I have a little problem. I'm addicted to cookbooks, food writing, recipe collecting, and cooking. I have a lot of recipes waiting for me to try them, and ideas from articles, tv, and restaurants often lead to new dishes. I started losing track of what I've done. So now I'm taking photos and writing about what I've prepared—unless it's terrible in which case I forget it ever happened.
Last weekend, with Bastille Day approaching, I made a plan to prepare some French food and decided to give the baguettes from the Breads from the La Brea Bakery book a go. This is the one bread that had me completely intimidated. It’s such a simple thing. They’re everywhere. Why so scary? Well, I had read about how tricky it can be to create a great baguette with the right crust, a good texture, and some flavor, and I had no idea what kind of results I could hope to expect. In the intro to this recipe, Silverton describes in detail what she believes makes a good baguette and the difference between fluffy ones and the rustic sourdough variety. Her recipe, and what you see here, is the latter. The classic, airy baguette is made with commercial yeast, but many of those contain added conditioners and extra yeast in an attempt to prolong their shelf life. Rustic sourdough baguettes have a caramelized brown exterior and pointy, irregular ends rather than smooth. The crust is slightly thicker and should shatter when you bite into it. The bread should compress as you bite it and then slowly rise back into shape. As usual, I followed the instructions in the book exactly, with a lot of uncertainty, and winged it.
This happens to be the same dough recipe that I followed for my first ever use of sourdough starter. There is no additional commercial yeast, just sourdough starter, bread flour, raw wheat germ, water, and salt. It was February when I made that first bread, and the house was several degrees cooler. Since then, my starter has developed better flavor, and the warmer temperature in the house this time around had a great affect on the dough rising. It worked so much better this time I was amazed. After the first rise, the dough was split into four pieces which were allowed to rest for 15 minutes. Then, each piece was folded and then rolled and shaped into a baguette. The rolling was actually easier with no flour on the board. It’s necessary for there to be some friction for the dough to be lengthened into the proper shape. Speaking of the proper shape, these are not skinny, classic baguette batons. Silverton points out that you should create the loaves to fit your oven, so for most home ovens, they will have to be shorter than commercial baguettes. I actually made mine the length of my baking stone, so they weren’t even quite the full size of my oven. The shaped loaves were nestled into a floured cloth, covered with another cloth, tucked into a plastic garbage bag, and left to rest in the refrigerator overnight.
The usual baking procedure was followed the next day. The loaves were removed from the refrigerator and allowed to come up to room temperature while the oven was heated to 500 F. The loaves were slashed, and I really need a good razor to do this because a knife just doesn’t work very well, the oven was spritzed, the temperature was reduced to 450 F, and in went the loaves. More spritzing ensued during the first five minutes, and the total baking time was about 30 minutes.
I was almost afraid to look in the oven at the end of the baking time. What if there was no caramelized brown crust? What if they were pale, sickly, distant cousins of a rustic baguette? And, then, I opened the oven door. And, then, I started dancing around and screaming about how pretty they were, and then I had to wait before I could taste them. Finally, I picked up a bread knife. The crust seemed good as I cut a piece. After a hurried photo shoot, I finally tasted it, and I realized this was the best bread I’ve made yet. All of that information about how the crust should shatter and the bread should compress was exactly what I experienced. I couldn’t believe it, and I think I have the weather to thank for it. I’ll definitely be baking baguettes year-round, but I have a feeling the summer bread will be hard to beat. This bread alone is worth the effort of maintaining a starter. I almost forgot, most importantly, I have the French to thank for inventing baguettes. Happy Bastille Day!
I’m submitting this to Yeastspotting, hosted this week by Nick at imafoodblog, where you’ll find some seriously well-made bread.
When I started using my new ice cream maker, I pretty much wanted to make every frozen concoction I could imagine all at once. Plain ice cream was quickly followed by ice cream sandwiches with a chocolaty sundae coming right after that. As I read the Demolition Desserts' recipe for vanilla gelato which I used in those ice cream sandwiches, I saw the note at the side of the page: “make a tin roof sundae with dark chocolate sauce (page 207) and salted Spanish peanuts.” Thank you, yes, I believe I will was my response. Throughout this book, there are helpful tips, suggestions, and added information in the sidebars, and I appreciate that each topic is thoroughly covered. For instance, on page 207 with the dark chocolate sauce recipe, there are more notes about how this sauce could be used as a filling for cupcakes, or as a warm sauce served with homemade graham crackers and marshmallows, or as a drizzled sauce over cakes, ice cream sandwiches, or bare skin. I didn’t make that up; it’s part of the list. There’s also a note about making this as milk chocolate sauce rather than dark chocolate. Despite the book’s focus on somewhat complicated, plated desserts, there is a lot to gain from learning the techniques for each component of those desserts. And, rather than preparing the desserts exactly as presented, the components can be used in simpler ways just as this sauce is being used here for a sundae.
There are two types of chocolate flavor in this sauce. First, 70% cacao bittersweet chocolate was melted with a combination of heated cream and honey. Then, cocoa powder was heated with water and whisked until thick. The cocoa mixture was added to the chocolate-cream mixture and whisked to combine. Butter and salt were added to finish the sauce. The result was a thick, full-flavored chocolate sauce with a nice shine. It can be refrigerated for a week, but it does harden when chilled. There are instructions for re-heating by placing the bowl of sauce into a larger bowl of warm water, but I found that removing it from the refrigerator about 20 minutes before I plan to use it gave it enough time to soften to a spoonable state.
The luscious sauce poured over freshly made vanilla gelato and topped with salty peanuts was a very fine version of this classic sundae. All the contrasts, cold ice cream and warm sauce, oozy sauce and crunchy peanuts, sweet ice cream and salty nuts, make it what it is. One more classic ice cream treat has been re-created at home, and now there are only about a thousand others I’m looking forward to attempting next.
No, I’m still not done with salads. It’s only July, and all those salads I see in books and magazines continue to catch my eye. In the April issue of Food and Wine, there was an article about wine country recipes in which chefs from four different wine regions around the world presented dishes that pair well with their local wines. The regions represented were northern California, Mediterranean France and Spain, coastal Chile, and south Australia. This salad is from Armand Arnal of La Chassagnette outside Arles. Some interesting ingredients and flavors are combined in the salad, and I made one substitution but probably shouldn’t have. As you see in the title, my version of the salad included yellow squash, but zucchini was used in the original. As it happened, I had a yellow squash in the refrigerator but I had used all the zucchini. I thought it would be pretty much the same difference. The problem, however, was the color. You see, this salad also involves the use of preserved lemon, and once the lemon rind was sliced, it looked very much like the sticks of yellow squash. In fact, as Kurt was eating his salad, he started pushing the yellow things to the side of his plate and said that he didn’t require that much lemon. I had to explain that all that yellow stuff was squash which he then ate while realizing the actual quantity of lemon was just right.
The first step in preparing this salad was marinating the zucchini or squash in olive oil with thinly sliced garlic, cumin, lemon zest, lemon juice, salt, and pepper. Plumped currants were added to the squash, and it was left in the marinade for two hours. At the same time, chicken was marinated in olive oil with minced shallots and lemon juice. Then, pine nuts were toasted, the chicken was sliced and sauteed, arugula was cleaned, and the preserved lemon peel was slivered. All of those items were then tossed in the marinade with the squash and currants. It came together very simply once the marinated items had been prepared and allowed to sit.
For a simple salad of some chicken on some leafy greens, there was actually a lot going on here in the flavor department. The pinch of cumin added an interesting hint of earthy spice, and the sweet currants balanced the peppery arugula. The lemon juice and preserved lemon peel were bright notes in the mix, and the marinated chicken made it all deliciously more substantial. This was a thumbs-up meal, and it’s going into the permanent file with one note: don’t willy-nilly substitute yellow squash for zucchini. My lesson of the day was to always remember that color can matter more than you might think in a dish.
Imagine a tiny, little town in the middle of Illinois where the fourth of July is a really big deal and where on that day the park is filled with food stands and carnival rides and a dunk tank and the night-time fireworks show draws a crowd larger than the town’s population, and I grew up there. The fourth of July holiday was the highlight of the summer. Those food stands sold everything from fried fish sandwiches to pulled pork to soup, and pie was always served for dessert. All, or most, of the ladies in town baked pies for the various stands, and the proceeds benefitted local churches and charities. Not much has changed over the years about the celebration, but I don’t make the trip to attend very often anymore. Instead, I check in with my Mom to find out what kind of pies she’s baking and how big of a crowd is expected. She went with peach pies this year. When the day arrives, I always wish I had traveled north to join the fun. The one thing that makes it seem almost like I’m there is baking a pie, and this year’s pie is one I spotted in the March issue of Living magazine. It was presented as a raspberry custard pie, but I found local, organic blueberries and used those instead.
First, the crust was blind baked and allowed to cool. I followed the pate brisee recipe that’s included in the article, and that happens to be the pie crust recipe I use most of the time. Then, flour, sugar, an egg, and cream were whisked together. The blueberries were tossed with sugar and a small bit of salt. The berries were placed in the baked and cooled crust, and the custard was poured over top. The pie went back into the oven for 45 minutes. Once removed from the oven, it was allowed to cool on a rack, and then it was refrigerated overnight. It was simple as far as pies go. I always feel like a pie is easier than it could be when there’s no top crust.
The custard was cold, smooth, and not too rich. The berries were sweetened just enough by the sugar and custard but retained their fresh flavor. Thinking back to all those different kinds of pies at the park, I remember how they were cut into equal-sized pieces and placed on small paper plates with a plastic fork sitting right on the plate. There would be a whole long table full of pieces of various kinds of pie. There were double-crust, lattice-topped, open-faced, chocolate-cream, fruit combinations, rhubarb-studded, you name it, but I don’t recall seeing many custard pies. I told my Mom about the blueberry custard pie I baked, and she commented that it sounded great except for the blueberries. I somehow went my whole life until last weekend before learning that Mom doesn’t like blueberries. That could explain why her pies are always apple, peach, or cherry, but I think I might be able to change her mind about blueberries with this pie.
We had a great fourth of July holiday weekend. We spent a lot of time outside, we had a lot of fun, but mostly, we ate a lot of food. I had several things in mind that I wanted to try, and I managed to put them together into one big feast of a meal on Sunday night. My original inspiration for the meal came from the cucumbers that were included in our CSA pick up. I love chopped cucumbers simply tossed into a green salad, but these were destined for something more interesting. I’m not sure of the varieties of cucumbers we received, but one was long, skinny, and striped. As soon as I saw it, I started thinking about tzatziki and how I had never made it myself. I flipped to the recipe in the Barefoot Contessa Parties! book, and right there on the preceding page is the tabbouleh recipe. I had also just seen some fantastic-looking watermelon salads on both Kopiaste and Kalofagas, and I decided to put these ideas together along with some pita, feta, hummus, good olives, and grilled kabobs. I wanted to make homemade pita but ran out of time. One of these days, I’ll try making it myself. As long as I’m confessing, I bought the hummus already made as well. There were just too many other fun things to do this weekend, but all the parts came together for a meal that left me wishing I could keep eating for several hours in a row.
Early in the day, I marinated chicken in lemon juice and zest, olive oil, garlic, and oregano. I also started the tzatziki by grating the cucumber and leaving it in a sieve over a bowl in the refrigerator for a few hours. Ina’s recipe suggests that the yogurt also be strained, but I used thick, Greek yogurt and skipped that step. To complete the tzatziki, the strained cucumber was combined with yogurt, sour cream, minced garlic, lemon juice, white wine vinegar, fresh dill, salt, and pepper. The tabbouleh is also a good dish to prepare in advance so the flavors can form a mutually respectful union, and I have actually made the recipe from this book before. First, bulgur wheat was covered with boiling water, and lemon juice, olive oil, and salt were added. That was left for an hour while green onions, fresh mint, parsley, cucumbers, and cherry tomatoes were chopped. After the bulgur had absorbed the water, the other ingredients were incorporated, and it was placed in the refrigerator until ready to be served.
We had green bell peppers, onions, and yellow squash also from our CSA, so those were included on the kabobs with the chicken. While the kabobs were on the grill, I sauteed sliced haloumi in olive oil for the watermelon salad. I used basil because my mint has succumbed to the heat, and I forgot to save some of the store-bought mint I used in the tabbouleh for this salad. I also completely forgot about the red onion that should have been added to the salad, but it worked out ok. Actually, this simple salad of watermelon chunks, browned haloumi, basil, and olive oil was one of the single most delicious things I’ve eaten lately. I can’t stop talking about it, and I highly suggest everyone give it a try.
The watermelon salad was definitely the star of the evening, every bite inspired nodding and smiling, but the table was loaded with delicious things. The kabobs were made even better with the tzatziki, the tabbouleh was cool, fresh, and crunchy, and the sharp, sheep feta and mix of olives were tasty accessories on the platter. I’m now wondering why I had never made tzatziki before, but I’ll certainly be making it again. The cucumber, dill-flavored, creamy goodness pairs so well with lemon-marinated chicken. At the end of the meal, we were beyond stuffed, and we were saddened that we’d reached a point at which not one more bite could be taken. Luckily though, with leftovers, we can enjoy it all again.
I am proud and excited to announce that I am now the owner of an ice cream maker. No longer do I have to look longingly at all the ice cream, sorbet, and frozen yogurt recipes I see. No more will I read about them and think, well, some day. Having an ice cream maker during the heat of the summer is turning out to be a terrific thing, but I suspect I’ll be using it regularly throughout the whole year. I chose the Cuisinart model, just like the one Ina uses, because it’s small enough that I should be able to find a place to store it in my tiny kitchen. I’ve been using it almost constantly since I got it, but if I ever need to store it, I’m sure I’ll find a place. For my first use of the new machine, I followed Michel Roux’s recipe which includes one batch of creme anglaise and then some added cream. Six egg yolks were involved, and at the end of the churning time, I added some fresh cherries. It was a rich, creamy, and decadent cherry-vanilla ice cream. That was a great test run, and next, I decided to try the vanilla gelato found in Demolition Desserts. In the book, Elizabeth Falkner explains that she prefers a pronounced salt flavor in her vanilla gelato. So after the custard base is chilled, salt is added until you can taste it.
To begin the custard, two egg yolks were whisked with cornstarch. In a saucepan, milk, sugar, corn syrup, and seeds from one half of a vanilla bean were heated just to a boil and then used to temper the eggs. The mixture was returned to the saucepan and heated for a few minutes. This custard base was then chilled in a measuring pitcher set in a bowl of ice water. Once cool, a cup of cream was added along with salt to taste. After the finished mixture was chilled in the refrigerator for an hour, it was churned into gelato.
As soon as I got the ice cream maker home, I started thinking about what kind of cookies to use for ice cream sandwiches. I considered going with a big, thin chocolate chip cookie or maybe a chewy molasses number. I’ll get to those options in time, but for my first ever homemade ice cream sandwiches, I finally decided on the chocolate malt cookies from Martha Stewart's Cookies. They are intended as a sandwich cookie in the book, I just replaced the chocolate malt filling with vanilla gelato. The cookies themselves are made with cocoa powder, malted milk powder, vanilla, and creme fraiche. They have a great texture which is a little crunchy on the edges and slightly chewy in the center, and they worked really well in ice cream sandwiches.
The interesting thing about assembling the sandwiches is that the ice cream needs to be soft enough to spread on the cookies, but you need to finish putting them together before the ice cream melts. This was tricky. I let the gelato soften in the refrigerator for about 30 minutes, and then, as I finished each sandwich, I popped it directly into the freezer. I felt a little bad that I wasn’t able to make the sandwiches more gorgeous given the speed required to finish them in my warmish kitchen. They may not have looked perfect, but they tasted incredible with the hint of salt flavor in the gelato and the rich chocolate maltedness of the cookies. Not too bad for a first try. Stay tuned for more ice cream treats to appear here in the coming days and weeks.
We all have our food phobias, preferences, and various other issues. Kurt doesn’t have very many food issues, but every once in a while he surprises me with a new one. For instance, sometime in the last year, he decided rice salads should always be avoided. I don’t know what a rice salad ever did to him, but he made the decision and stuck with it until last night. When presenting this dish, I slyly called it a Thai salad and left the rice word out of the title. That worked well enough for him to taste it before pointing out that he could see that it was a rice salad. But, one taste managed to change his mind. That’s how good this salad is. This bright, freshly-flavored, mind-changing salad is from none other than Donna Hay and is found in Off the Shelf. I wasn’t kidding about the proliferation of salads and recipes from that book this week.
So, if you were wondering what would be a great make-ahead item that you could leave in the refrigerator, that would have incredible flavor even in its chilled state, and that you could enjoy for a few meals, well you found it. Make a big bowl of this salad and enjoy. The recipe is very quick and simple, and if you have some leftover chicken it’s even faster. I used leftover grilled chicken, but any cooked and shredded chicken would work. Then, cook some rice. I went with jasmine rice, and I always follow the process I learned from Saveur years ago. That process involves swishing the rice in water, draining, and repeating until the water remains clear. Then, the rice is boiled in a saucepan for a few minutes before the heat is turned to low and the pan is covered for 20 minutes. Last, the pan is removed from the heat and left to sit, covered for 10 minutes. The ratio from that article, from so long ago I don’t remember what year, was two cups of rice boiled in two and three-quarters cups water. It always turns out great. So, with cooked chicken and cooked rice, all that was needed to be cooked for this salad was some briefly sauteed green onions, chopped red chiles, and finely chopped lemongrass. Once sauteed, those items were combined with the cooked and cooled rice, the shredded chicken, some shredded mint, cilantro leaves, and shredded kaffir lime leaves which I actually found at the grocery store even though I usually don’t. Then, a dressing including lime juice, a little sugar, and fish sauce was poured over the salad. It was tossed to combine, and the salad was left in the refrigerator until ready to serve.
I tasted the salad as I made it, and the lime and lemongrass flavors were front and center, but I wondered if it would become a little dull after being chilled. It did not. The lime leaves, lime juice, lemongrass, fish sauce, mint, and cilantro all contributed to the flavor burst that was still there after the time spent in the refrigerator. I was very happy with the salad and surprised that Kurt not only tolerated it but found it to be quite good. I don’t know that this has opened the door for other rice salads, but I do know this one will be welcomed when I make it again.
Last weekend, with Bastille Day approaching, I made a plan to prepare some French food and decided to give the baguettes from the Breads from the La Brea Bakery
book a go. This is the one bread that had me completely intimidated. It’s such a simple thing. They’re everywhere. Why so scary? Well, I had read about how tricky it can be to create a great baguette with the right crust, a good texture, and some flavor, and I had no idea what kind of results I could hope to expect. In the intro to this recipe, Silverton describes in detail what she believes makes a good baguette and the difference between fluffy ones and the rustic sourdough variety. Her recipe, and what you see here, is the latter. The classic, airy baguette is made with commercial yeast, but many of those contain added conditioners and extra yeast in an attempt to prolong their shelf life. Rustic sourdough baguettes have a caramelized brown exterior and pointy, irregular ends rather than smooth. The crust is slightly thicker and should shatter when you bite into it. The bread should compress as you bite it and then slowly rise back into shape. As usual, I followed the instructions in the book exactly, with a lot of uncertainty, and winged it.
This happens to be the same dough recipe that I followed for my first ever use of sourdough starter. There is no additional commercial yeast, just sourdough starter, bread flour, raw wheat germ, water, and salt. It was February when I made that first bread, and the house was several degrees cooler. Since then, my starter has developed better flavor, and the warmer temperature in the house this time around had a great affect on the dough rising. It worked so much better this time I was amazed. After the first rise, the dough was split into four pieces which were allowed to rest for 15 minutes. Then, each piece was folded and then rolled and shaped into a baguette. The rolling was actually easier with no flour on the board. It’s necessary for there to be some friction for the dough to be lengthened into the proper shape. Speaking of the proper shape, these are not skinny, classic baguette batons. Silverton points out that you should create the loaves to fit your oven, so for most home ovens, they will have to be shorter than commercial baguettes. I actually made mine the length of my baking stone, so they weren’t even quite the full size of my oven. The shaped loaves were nestled into a floured cloth, covered with another cloth, tucked into a plastic garbage bag, and left to rest in the refrigerator overnight.
The usual baking procedure was followed the next day. The loaves were removed from the refrigerator and allowed to come up to room temperature while the oven was heated to 500 F. The loaves were slashed, and I really need a good razor to do this because a knife just doesn’t work very well, the oven was spritzed, the temperature was reduced to 450 F, and in went the loaves. More spritzing ensued during the first five minutes, and the total baking time was about 30 minutes.
I was almost afraid to look in the oven at the end of the baking time. What if there was no caramelized brown crust? What if they were pale, sickly, distant cousins of a rustic baguette? And, then, I opened the oven door. And, then, I started dancing around and screaming about how pretty they were, and then I had to wait before I could taste them. Finally, I picked up a bread knife. The crust seemed good as I cut a piece. After a hurried photo shoot, I finally tasted it, and I realized this was the best bread I’ve made yet. All of that information about how the crust should shatter and the bread should compress was exactly what I experienced. I couldn’t believe it, and I think I have the weather to thank for it. I’ll definitely be baking baguettes year-round, but I have a feeling the summer bread will be hard to beat. This bread alone is worth the effort of maintaining a starter. I almost forgot, most importantly, I have the French to thank for inventing baguettes. Happy Bastille Day!
There are two types of chocolate flavor in this sauce. First, 70% cacao bittersweet chocolate was melted with a combination of heated cream and honey. Then, cocoa powder was heated with water and whisked until thick. The cocoa mixture was added to the chocolate-cream mixture and whisked to combine. Butter and salt were added to finish the sauce. The result was a thick, full-flavored chocolate sauce with a nice shine. It can be refrigerated for a week, but it does harden when chilled. There are instructions for re-heating by placing the bowl of sauce into a larger bowl of warm water, but I found that removing it from the refrigerator about 20 minutes before I plan to use it gave it enough time to soften to a spoonable state.
The luscious sauce poured over freshly made vanilla gelato and topped with salty peanuts was a very fine version of this classic sundae. All the contrasts, cold ice cream and warm sauce, oozy sauce and crunchy peanuts, sweet ice cream and salty nuts, make it what it is. One more classic ice cream treat has been re-created at home, and now there are only about a thousand others I’m looking forward to attempting next.
For a simple salad of some chicken on some leafy greens, there was actually a lot going on here in the flavor department. The pinch of cumin added an interesting hint of earthy spice, and the sweet currants balanced the peppery arugula. The lemon juice and preserved lemon peel were bright notes in the mix, and the marinated chicken made it all deliciously more substantial. This was a thumbs-up meal, and it’s going into the permanent file with one note: don’t willy-nilly substitute yellow squash for zucchini. My lesson of the day was to always remember that color can matter more than you might think in a dish.
First, the crust was blind baked and allowed to cool. I followed the pate brisee recipe that’s included in the article, and that happens to be the pie crust recipe I use most of the time. Then, flour, sugar, an egg, and cream were whisked together. The blueberries were tossed with sugar and a small bit of salt. The berries were placed in the baked and cooled crust, and the custard was poured over top. The pie went back into the oven for 45 minutes. Once removed from the oven, it was allowed to cool on a rack, and then it was refrigerated overnight. It was simple as far as pies go. I always feel like a pie is easier than it could be when there’s no top crust.
The custard was cold, smooth, and not too rich. The berries were sweetened just enough by the sugar and custard but retained their fresh flavor. Thinking back to all those different kinds of pies at the park, I remember how they were cut into equal-sized pieces and placed on small paper plates with a plastic fork sitting right on the plate. There would be a whole long table full of pieces of various kinds of pie. There were double-crust, lattice-topped, open-faced, chocolate-cream, fruit combinations, rhubarb-studded, you name it, but I don’t recall seeing many custard pies. I told my Mom about the blueberry custard pie I baked, and she commented that it sounded great except for the blueberries. I somehow went my whole life until last weekend before learning that Mom doesn’t like blueberries. That could explain why her pies are always apple, peach, or cherry, but I think I might be able to change her mind about blueberries with this pie.
We had green bell peppers, onions, and yellow squash also from our CSA, so those were included on the kabobs with the chicken. While the kabobs were on the grill, I sauteed sliced haloumi in olive oil for the watermelon salad. I used basil because my mint has succumbed to the heat, and I forgot to save some of the store-bought mint I used in the tabbouleh for this salad. I also completely forgot about the red onion that should have been added to the salad, but it worked out ok. Actually, this simple salad of watermelon chunks, browned haloumi, basil, and olive oil was one of the single most delicious things I’ve eaten lately. I can’t stop talking about it, and I highly suggest everyone give it a try.
The watermelon salad was definitely the star of the evening, every bite inspired nodding and smiling, but the table was loaded with delicious things. The kabobs were made even better with the tzatziki, the tabbouleh was cool, fresh, and crunchy, and the sharp, sheep feta and mix of olives were tasty accessories on the platter. I’m now wondering why I had never made tzatziki before, but I’ll certainly be making it again. The cucumber, dill-flavored, creamy goodness pairs so well with lemon-marinated chicken. At the end of the meal, we were beyond stuffed, and we were saddened that we’d reached a point at which not one more bite could be taken. Luckily though, with leftovers, we can enjoy it all again.
As soon as I got the ice cream maker home, I started thinking about what kind of cookies to use for ice cream sandwiches. I considered going with a big, thin chocolate chip cookie or maybe a chewy molasses number. I’ll get to those options in time, but for my first ever homemade ice cream sandwiches, I finally decided on the chocolate malt cookies from 
The interesting thing about assembling the sandwiches is that the ice cream needs to be soft enough to spread on the cookies, but you need to finish putting them together before the ice cream melts. This was tricky. I let the gelato soften in the refrigerator for about 30 minutes, and then, as I finished each sandwich, I popped it directly into the freezer. I felt a little bad that I wasn’t able to make the sandwiches more gorgeous given the speed required to finish them in my warmish kitchen. They may not have looked perfect, but they tasted incredible with the hint of salt flavor in the gelato and the rich chocolate maltedness of the cookies. Not too bad for a first try. Stay tuned for more ice cream treats to appear here in the coming days and weeks.
I tasted the salad as I made it, and the lime and lemongrass flavors were front and center, but I wondered if it would become a little dull after being chilled. It did not. The lime leaves, lime juice, lemongrass, fish sauce, mint, and cilantro all contributed to the flavor burst that was still there after the time spent in the refrigerator. I was very happy with the salad and surprised that Kurt not only tolerated it but found it to be quite good. I don’t know that this has opened the door for other rice salads, but I do know this one will be welcomed when I make it again.