Easy Recipes

Rhubarb and I dont always get along. I usually thrill to see it in the markets, right around the time that the wintered-over apples are mealy, past-its-prime citrus isnt juicy, and ohmygosh why isnt there any fruit? feelings are running high. But then I take it home, and dont quite know what to do with it. A few weeks ago I slumped rhubarb into a compote to pair with a flourless almond cake, but ended up just eating the cake plain (well, plain except for whipped cream).

I think the problem is that I dont want stovetop sauces or oven-baked pies. I want fruit. I want something fresh and juicy and full of spring. Given rhubarbs tartness, it can be hard to find raw preparations where it delivers on this springtime promise. Ive seen a few Mediterranean recipes that shave it into salads, but its usually just a lone stalk or two. And I didnt want salad. I wanted dessert.

The original version of this recipe pairs the rhubarb with its old friend, the strawberry. Im sure thats lovely, but our strawberries are still a few weeks away. And luckily my failure to wait for them yielded a truly delicious result. This almond granita is just a simple frozen almond milk, frozen into fluffy crystals (I made it fresh, but you could also freeze up a commercial version if you prefer). The milky sweetness is a perfect match for the spunky punch of pure fresh rhubarb, saucy with a bit of sugar. A little bit of mint (thanks to a friends backyard) heightens the springtime brightness even further. Im sure Ill eventually bake up some rhubarb into a pie (especially when the strawberries come in). But right now, this fresh-fresh-fresh bit of crunch and melt and sour and sweet is just what I needed to fall back in love with rhubarb.



  
Almond Granita with Minted Rhubarb 

adapted from Apt. 2B Baking Co. 
yields ~4 good-sized or 6 small serving 

Granita:
1 cup raw almonds
2 1/2 cups water (plus more for soaking)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract or 1/2 vanilla bean, scraped
sugar to taste (~2-3 tablespoons)
pinch salt

Rhubarb:
~6 slim stalks rhubarb
~1/4 cup sugar
handful of mint leaves

To make the granita: Place almonds in a bowl, and cover with water. Let soak at least four hours, or overnight. Drain, place in a blender with the three cups water, and puree to bits. Strain the mixture through a few layers of cheesecloth, squeezing to get out all of the liquid you can. Add vanilla, sugar, and salt, and adjust seasonings to taste to yield a sweet, flavorful mixture.

Pour the mixture into an 8x8 or 9x9 baking dish. Slide the dish into the freezer, and chill for one hour. Remove the dish from the freezer, and scrape the milk with a fork to break up the crystals. Return to the freezer, and scrape the milk every 20 minutes or so, until it is frozen and, thanks to your work, fluffy crystals have formed (maybe another hour or so).

To make the rhubarb: Wash the rhubarb, and cut in a fine dice. Toss it in a bowl with the sugar, and let sit for about half an hour to let the juices come out, and the sugar dissolve into a syrup. Add the mint.

To serve, layer the granita and minted rhubarb in a glass, and slurp up before it melts.

I once heard about a book that espoused a particularly appealing version of the "balanced diet" approach to weight loss. Say you want to have a milkshake? Well, it advised, have a milkshake! Just have a small one. And not every day. And accompany it with a big pile of steamed broccoli, and call it dinner.

At the time, I remember thinking that sounded great. Not as some sort of balanced system of penance and reward — simply because I like both of those items a whole lot, and a meal composed of the two would be across-the-board wonderful. Its often what I default to, especially when nobody else is around to mitigate. To whit: for a recent solo dinner, I ended up roasting and eating a pound of Brussels sprouts, followed by a few fresh-from-the-oven buttery, jammy cookies. And it was great.

I recommend these cookies as part of anyones balanced brassica-filled meal. Ive made thumbprint cookies before of a more hippie, oat-and-whole-grain-filled sort. I like that variation, but these have a buttery simplicity thats hard to beat. A rich, plain short dough, rolled in almonds that toast up in the oven, then filled with jam (in this case, a runny undercooked raspberry version Id made, which was perfect for the task). Even without the Brussels sprouts, they more than hold their own.


Almond-Covered Thumbprint Cookies

adapted from Nikole Herriott, via Lottie and Doof
yields ~20 cookies

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature
1/2 cup white sugar
1 egg, separated (I used two smallish eggs, which worked great)
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 1/4 cups all purpose flour
scant 1/2 teaspoon coarse salt
3/4 cups raw almonds, chopped (you want them small enough to adhere to cookies, but big enough to provide a nice bite)
~ 1/4 cup jam of your choosing (raspberry is especially nice)

Preheat your oven to 325° Fahrenheit. Line two baking sheets with parchment, or grease them well.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the butter and sugar together until well-mixed and fluffy. Add the egg yolk and vanilla, and beat until well mixed. Stir in the flour and salt, and mix until the dough just comes together (you can add a spoonful of water if needed).

Scoop your dough out into generous tablespoons and roll into balls (you should have about 20).  Lightly whisk the egg whites, and places the almonds in a shallow bowl. Roll each dough ball in the egg whites to coat, then in the chopped almonds (you can use a little pressure if needed to make them adhere). Place the cookies on sheet, with a bit of space between them (they shouldnt spread all that much).

Press on each cookie, to flatten into a chubby disk. Using your thumb, or the handle of a wooden spoon, make a nice wide intent in the center of each cookie. Spoon a bit of jam into each indent (you may not be able to fit much more than a generous 1/4 teaspoon). Bake in the preheated oven until just beginning to turn lightly golden, ~15 minutes, then transfer to racks to cool. Best eaten in the first day or two.

I recently received a package from a friend who is traveling in Africa. The brightly-colored fabric-backed painting was lovely, but honestly I was probably just as thrilled by the basic fact of the envelope as by its contents. Care package! Foreign stamps! Hand-written letter! Getting mail is so exciting!

These days, its possible to go years without receiving a little homemade postal love. Unless youre sharing grocery lists, you might not know what someones handwriting even looks like. Theres the mass-produced holiday card, or the wedding thank-yous written out by the dozens, but honestly its not the same. A care package, lovingly assembled in another city and posted out to you, is such a thrill. I give and receive them all too infrequently.

But when I do, the question remains: what to send? The shelf-stable particulars vary based upon the recipient, but Im almost always looking to include a little handmade sugar as well. Unfortunately, it can be hard to find the right cookies to send. Chocolate chip cookies and brownies are great fresh from the oven, but unless youre a starving college student, youre probably not going to want them six days later. Things like gingerbread or biscotti, dried out to a long-term-storage crisp, work well. But recently I pulled together a package for someone in need of a little pick-me-up, and demure crunchy tea cookies werent going to do. I wanted something a little more gooey, more chocolatey and indulgent, but still delicious after spending the better part of a week in transit. Fortunately, I discovered these macaroons.

This recipe produces a showstoppingly good cookie. Fresh out of the oven, youre struck by the moist, rich coconut filling, gently toasted to a crisp on the outside. And to make matters even better, this richness is offset by a bittersweet fudgey ganache. I was compelled to take it even further, adding a sprinkling of toasted almonds, and the lightest dusting of coarse salt to bring out the sweetness. They ship well (having no delicate edges to break off in the mail), and even a few days later still taste like a candy bar. If you really want to play up the similarity, you can omit the chopped nuts, and hide a single toasted almond beneath the ganache. These macaroons are my new favorite for shipping off across the country (or hiding away in my very own freezer).


Macaroons with Chocolate Ganache and Almonds (aka Almond Joy Cookies)

adapted from a recipe that Bon Appetit adapted from Marigold Kitchen, with thanks to Orangette for flagging
makes ~ 4 dozen

Cookies:
3 cups (lightly-packed) sweetened shredded coconut
3/4 cup sugar
3/4 cup egg whites (about 6)
pinch salt
1 1/2 tsp vanilla
1/4 tsp almond extract

Ganache and Topping:
9 oz bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, chopped
6 Tbsp heavy whipping cream (if shipping, reduce to 3 Tbsp for a firmer set)
1 Tbsp corn syrup (optional, but gives a nice gloss to the finished ganache)
~1/4 cup chopped and toasted almonds
coarse salt for sprinkling (optional)

Mix together the coconut, sugar, egg whites and salt in a heavy-bottomed saucepan. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly once it warms. The mixture will gradually dry out and become less loose and gooey, and more of a sticky paste (~12 minutes). Remove from heat, and stir in the vanilla and almond extracts. Spread out in a thick layer on a cookie sheet, and refrigerate until cold, ~1 hour (you can also place in a sealed container and allow to sit in the refrigerator overnight).

When the dough is chilled, preheat the oven to 300, and line a couple baking sheets with parchment.

Take the chilled dough, and shape into packed, mounded heaping tablespoons (a mini ice-cream scoop is ideal for this). Place the cookies on the prepared baking sheets (they wont spread, so you dont need to space them too far apart). Bake until the coconut on the outside begins to get golden, ~20-30 minutes. Remove, let set on the sheet for a few minutes to firm up, and then transfer to a rack to cool completely.

When the cookies are cool, prepare the ganache. Place the chocolate, cream and corn syrup in double boiler, and heat until the chocolate is almost entirely melted. Remove from heat, and whisk until smooth. Spoon the glaze over the macaroons, allowing it to form little chocolate hats and drip down thickly over the sides. Sprinkle with toasted almonds, and, if desired, just a few grains of coarse salt (you can lightly press down any sticking-up almonds to make sure they are fully anchored in the ganache). Refrigerate until the ganache fully sets (at least two hours), then transfer to an airtight container. Store in the refrigerator or freezer, or ship off to the loved one of your choosing.

Several years ago, I left my dog alone at a friends house for an evening, and returned to find that he had eaten all of the dog food in the house. All of it. When he came to greet us at the front door, he was noticeably larger. We rushed our barrel-shaped pup to the veterinarian, who pronounced him fine (and showed us an amusing x-ray, wherein you could still see all of the individual pieces of kibble in his overly-full stomach). In addition to piece of mind (and a hefty bill), we were given my absolute Favorite Diagnosis Ever: dietary indiscretion. Seriously. Dietary Indiscretion. Its sort of like diagnosis: bad decision-making. I suffer from that all the time.

For the most part, my diet is fairly healthy, full of fresh produce and whole grains and all that good stuff. But sometimes its not. Sometimes Im dining out, and the deliciously retro ice cream sundae on the menu calls to me. Or Im catching up with friends over happy hour, and after a few drinks an order (or three) of fries suddenly seems like a phenomenally brilliant idea. Or I am eating something so addictively delicious, say these little cheese-filled puff pastry palmiers at my friend Sarahs house, and I just cannot stop. Dietary Indiscretion.

After such poor choices, weve come up with a recovery meal known around our household as Hippie Dinner. Its the best way to sop up booze, grease, and bad decisions, and set you on the path to dietary righteousness. There are three elements: whole grains (in the form of some brown rice or quinoa); protein (in the form of marinated tofu or a piece of lean fish); and a huge pile of steamed or sauteed vegetables. Actually, make that 4 elements: the whole plate is topped off with a tahini variation called sloppy sauce.

Sloppy sauce, inspired by a friend who needed to recover from a nearly all-pizza diet, is a great way to make a huge pile of steamed kale and sweet potatoes much more exciting. It starts off like a traditional Middle Eastern tahini sauce, mixing sesame paste with lemon juice and garlic. But its given a bit of savory heft (and arguable health benefit) from a scoop of miso, and delicious nuttiness from almond butter. I like to further play up the East meets Middle East dimension by stirring in a bit of grated ginger, or a handful of scallions or chopped cilantro if youve got. And sometimes I emphasize the peanut sauce resemblance by using lime juice instead of lemon. As suggested by its name, sloppy sauce is a pretty informal affair, and can be easily adapted to your taste. And it can be enjoyed any time, whether youre recovering from a dietary indiscretion or not.


Sloppy Sauce (aka Tahini with Miso and Almond Butter)

yields ~3/4 cup

1 Tbsp miso (any type)
2 Tbsp tahini
2 Tbsp almond butter
1 clove garlic, crushed
1/2" ginger, grated
juice of 1 lemon
water
handful minced scallions and/or cilantro (optional)

Mix together the miso, tahini, and almond butter until well combined. Stir in the garlic and ginger, then the lemon juice. Add water, a little at a time, until it reaches a thick-but-pourable consistency (~1/4+ cup). Stir in the scallions and/or cilantro, if using. Taste, and adjust seasonings as needed. Pour over whatever hippie concoction you desire. The sauce will thicken upon standing, so just stir in a little additional water or lemon juice to loosen leftovers.

 A few weeks ago, I described the fairly epic meal I ended up cooking in trade for a blissful ninety minute massage. I still dream about that massage. But the whole involved affair, from handmade ice balls to truffled cheese, actually came out of a fairly simple request: something made with almonds. And so, in the midst of all of those courses, I actually did deliver as promised. With an amazing, crisp-yet-soft, rich-yet-light almond tart.

Going above and beyond the actual request is partly a result of my sporadically-manifesting perfectionism, and partly because I really, really wanted to make sure that this trade would be repeated. But honestly, I could have stopped with the tart itself. Because its amazing.

This recipe comes from David Lebovitz, and was a favorite during his stint at Chez Panisse (favorite with the diners that is—I think the kitchen staff, like me, cursed its fussiness just a wee bit). It is like nothing youve ever had before: a buttery tart shell filled with an almost candy-like paving of almonds, bound with something thats sort of like caramel but without the overly cloying sweetness. And its surprisingly simple: once you wrestle with the fiddly crust, you just simmer together equal parts cream, sugar, and sliced almonds, along with a dash of extracts to bolster the flavor. Pour it into your shell and bake it, giving a stir now and then as it sets to make sure things stay nice and pretty. As long as you actually place the tart on a pan to catch the drips, and have a false-bottom tart pan to make short work of any overflow-related-crust-adherence issues, it should be fairly easy (I failed on both of these counts, but please dont be like me).

And because, as stated, I cant leave well enough alone, I served it with a blob of lightly sweetened whipped cream, and a puddle of candied kumquats. The combination of the bright and punchy kumquats, soft cream, and crisp almond tart is truly special. Hopefully special enough for another massage...


Chez Panisse Almond Tart

adapted from the amazing David Lebovitz

I have made this tart twice, and once it behaved exactly as expected, whereas the other time it bubbled over wildly in the oven. Im not sure why. Both were delicious, and as long as you (unlike me) place the tart on a pan to catch any drips, bubbling over shouldnt be too much of a bother).

Crust:
1 cup flour
1 Tbsp sugar
1/2 cup (aka 1 stick) unsalted butter, cold, cut into cubes
1 Tbsp ice water
1/2 tsp vanilla
1/8 tsp almond extract

Filling:
1 cup heavy cream
1 cup sugar
pinch salt
1 cup sliced almonds (blanched or skin-on are both fine)
1/8 tsp almond extract
2 tsp orange or almond liquor (such as Grand Marnier, Triple Sec, or Amaretto)

optional: whipped cream and candied kumquats for serving (for the latter, just cut kumquats into thick slices, pop out the seeds (I find a skewer fairly helpful,  but sometimes you can just squeeze them out), and simmer in a 1:1 sugar/water (or sugar/water & white wine) syrup until soft and translucent)

To make the crust: Mix together the flour and sugar. Using a food processor or pastry cutter, cut in the butter until its reduced to rice-sized bits. Add the water and extract and work until the dough just comes together. Shape into a chubby disk, wrap with plastic and let rest in the refrigerator until chilled, about an hour.

After the dough has rested, remove and let come to room temperature. Using your hands, press the dough into a 9-inch tart pan until you form a thin-yet-relatively-even layer, pricking the bottom a few times with a fork to prevent it from bubbling up. Reserve a small bit of dough for patching any holes. Place the shaped crust in the freezer for about half an hour to chill thoroughly.

While the tart is freezing, preheat the oven to 375 degrees Farenheit. Bake the frozen shell until set and lightly golden, ~20-30 minutes (a bit of slumping is okay, but if it sinks too much, take it out mid-way and shape it back up). Remove and let cool slightly, patching any holes with the reserved dough (or just sort of smushing the partially-baked dough around to cover—its fairly forgiving). Leave the oven on.

To prepare the filling, place the cream, sugar and salt in a large saucepan or pot, and bring to a boil over a high heat. When it foams up, turn off the heat and add the almonds, extract, and liquor. Stir to combine.

Pour the filling into the par-baked crust, and place it on a baking sheet. Bake in the pre-heated oven for 30 minutes until golden, with no remaining gooey white bits. After the first 10-15 minutes, tap the surface of the top a bit with a heat-proof spatula or wooden spoon, to keep it from forming an unattractive top crust. Repeat five minutes later, and again until the tart begins to set and become golden (if your tart happens to be bubbling over wildly, you neednt worry about this). Remove, and let cool for a few minutes. Remove from the ring and base—this may be a bit difficult if the tart has bubbled over and glued itself to both of them, but slip a small knife in until you can loosen it easily. Serve with whipped cream and candied kumquats, if desired, or enjoy as-is.