Thing things

Can’t live without happiness Thursday + Roasted red pepper sauce

May 9, 2013 by Edlyn

I think it was 2005 when the big flood hit Bombay. Rain that didn’t stop for a whole week and all I remember of it was a week off from college. That and some of my friends were forced to A) Walk hours through flood waters to get home B) Camp out in South Bombay, the part of the city that saw nothing of this so-called flood. I fell into neither of the categories because I lived in South Bombay, like a non-snob (promise). I was there as a paying guest in a nice little house, the kind that is the stuff of urban legend today.

Unable to completely understand what was bringing this beast of city to a standstill, I made no effort to go out and see it for myself. It was raining and I’ve always believed the one thing I don’t like about moisture-laden clouds is their ability to make my feet feel alien. “Rain shoes” were only part of my vocabulary until my mother bought them for me. After that, it was “whatever-I-can-find-under-the-cupboard shoes”, which were never my shoe(s) in the first place.

Landlady and us roommates got the daily flood reports of places 30-minutes-away-by-train from the TV. Everyday – assuming A. Myra was not taking Jassi waaaayy too seriously – we’d turn on nondescript Hindi news channel and see images of a lot of filthy water, flooded homes (many of them makeshift) and people…having…fun?

And smiling?

And playing silly games?

All this over the voice of a news anchor sitting in a studio trying to sound like the opposite of what was happening. Apart from the people who were living all of it, the rest of us were all detached from reality and unable to see that the only people whose lives really sucked at the time were the ones that were truly happy.

Happy.

In all that uncertainty, confusion and really inconvenient living arrangements, the moving images that moved me the most was their joy. Their faces did not match the headlines and it made me feel like an idiot for missing out on all the fun. I used to have this grand idea as a child of blocking the space under the doors and turning on the tap in the bathroom. So you know, I could turn the house into a swimming pool. I never accomplished that and the images were as close as I could get to being 7 again…minus all the parental drama that could’ve been.

Happy.

I want to be that happy amongst that much sad. Because stupidly, I feel like I can handle it. We live in a world with constant expectations and being damn near (pick a number!) 25 never makes it any easier. We choose our paths and create ideas of how we’re supposed to be but it’s never any of that. It’s always more. It’s the part of you that practices saying “I’m a photographer”, when you’re not sure if you really are/can/pretend to be one. Or the girl that wants to have an uninterrupted 8 hours of just plain creativity in the hope that it one day be paid for. In the middle of it all, we just want to be one thing, even if it means an unscheduled glass of life-changing grape juice.

And to be that girl in a flood because her life is not over and HEY, she finally has her own swimming pool.

Think of this as a “how to” because based on this, I have a lot of non-throw-it-over-pasta recipes swimming in my head. I tried out one today in a hurry since I had to feed my little animal before I went out into the world. I let him finish up the bits and ends so I’ve yet to taste it. If it’s good, tomorrow will be the day!

Ingredients

3 red peppers
4 cloves of garlic (more if you love garlic)
1 cup of yellow onions (or red/purple)
Salt and pepper to taste
Olive oil

Pre-heat the oven to 425 degrees F, which in this house take 5 years and I’ve hired a personal chef in the future so why are we doing this again?

Slice the red peppers down in the middle and get rid of the seeds and the stalk. If you’re the seed-preserving kind, you can do that as well! Place them cut side down on a baking sheet lined with foil. I forgot to grease the foil. I don’t know if you’re supposed to but it didn’t matter. I know this because it didn’t stick. Peel and smash the garlic with the back of the knife and place it among the cut peppers. Lightly sprinkle the peppers with salt and put them in the oven for 45 minutes of until parts of the top get slightly blackened.

Once this happens, don’t freak out because this is how it’s supposed to be. Let the peppers cool completely and then peel off the skin and keep aside. You can save the non-blackened parts of the skin if you want to use in the sauce. It’s no big deal either way. Throw the peppers and (possibly) rock hard garlic pods into a blender or food processor and mix it until it turns into a paste/sauce.

In the final part of the process, heat about a teaspoon and a half of olive oil in a small pot and throw in the onions. Let them cook until translucent and then pour in the roasted red pepper paste. Add a tablespoon or so of water and turn the heat to low. Once it simmers, take it off the stove and season with salt and pepper.

Rhubarb sorbet ramblings.

April 30, 2013 by Edlyn

As I sit down to write, it’s already 1pm. Thirteen hundred hours in military time and I’m still not sure what to wear. I picked the dog up off the floor in the hope that a lap dog would inspire me but that only works until there’s a knock on the door. Yes, I have to go answer it which I never ALWAYS do but the UPS courier man always has such a sheepish look on his face – I see it through the spyhole on the door – that I fell compelled to.

Then he looks at me wanting just one thing: My signature. I already have 1000 excuses made up as to why I’m still in stretch pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Nothing matches and I realise I forgot to check if I have honeydew seeds stuck on my face. Why would you have honeydew seeds stuck on your face, Edlyn? It’s a new thing I’m trying out. Ask me later if it worked?

As I sit down to write this, I turn around to look out the window. It looks deceptively warm but I won’t complain because any sun is good. Any sun after the rain is even better. The plants in the window are probably a lot happier. They have a lot of growing up to do and I have no idea how to help them with that. There’s so much to learn about new life and I tend to just step back a bit. Not out of fear. I’m just a little less bold than I sometimes feel. There’s nothing fun about being told “no”. The only fun part is I don’t mind at all.

As I sit down to write this, I should probably write it already. Nothing about a blank page overwhelms me. This is the one thing I know will never let me down. I can collect as many hobbies and people and cardigans but this ability right here, will always feel permanently comforting. It’s okay not to be read but I know I’d be committing the biggest disservice to this comfortable outfit I’m in and that light from the sky if I didn’t sit down to write.

So I did.

Rhubarb is like the made-up cousin of celery except you can eat the celery leaves and rhubarb leaves can poison you. Chop those of before you start and banish them far far away. The entire rhubarb plant is also very toxic for dogs. So for those of you who have pooches that sniff at your feet in the kitchen, you might want to hang a “No Dogs in the Kitchen” sign. And then teach your dog to read.

Ingredients

1 1/4 cups water
2 2/3 cup rhubarb stalks (320 gms, I had 4 or 5 rhubarb stalks)
2 1/2 tbsp lemon juice
Zest of half a lemon (optional)
1 tsp finely grated ginger
6 tbsp honey (or more if you like it sweeter)

Is everybody listening? I’m about to begin! You there at the back. Eyes on the prize!

Chop the rhubarb into small-medium sized pieces along the length of the stalk. Place the cut rhubarb in a saucepan with water, lemon juice, grated ginger root and honey. The saucepan then goes on to a stove on medium-high heat for a couple of minutes until the honey dissolves. Taste if it’s sweet enough for you. If not, add more honey. Turn down the heat to medium-low and cook this mixture of ingredients until the rhubarb is tender and the contents are fragrant. This should take around 10-15 minutes.

Take the saucepan off the heat and let it cool before pouring it all into a food processor. Turn the processor to low (“high” makes me nervous about kitchen explosions) and work it until the rhubarb turns into a smooth puree. There puree will have some stringy bits of the rhubarb stem but this doesn’t affect the texture of the final product.

Pour the mixture into a bowl and cool it in the refrigerator for no less than an hour. Once cooled, you can put it in your ice-cream maker* for 20 minutes and then freeze the sorbet in a freezer-safe bowl. If you don’t care about owning yet another modern convenience follow this link to make the sorbet without a machine. You’ll just have to pretend the ice-cream in the link is sorbet and follow the same instructions.

*My frozen dessert fiend BHF and I own a Cuisinart ice-cream maker and it’s the bomb.

Bunny in a hat + Something to snack on.

April 17, 2013 by Edlyn

The more I have to do, the more I want to do something completely else. This is a good thing because I’ve had a chance to draw a bit, read a lot and watch too many movies. I’ve learnt to enjoy all this time I have to myself. I’m genuinely thankful for the pauses I get to take and that I get to look out a window more than I do a computer screen. I could want a lot but right now I have all that I want. My needs are immaterial.

The roomie has been sick so I’ve been force-feeding him tea all day since yesterday. And when I want somebody to drink their tea, I will put my foot down and make them. I’m really bossy about the temperature of the brew and also, it’s for his own good. He doesn’t complain. I just want him to get better so we can go on planning pretend adventures again.

This week the bunnies got to go on adventures too. I was happy for them. They get to take flight because of me. Lucky rascals.

I also thought I’d share with you this lunch snack idea, if you ever have the munchies. It’s so easy to make and all you should have in your kitchen is some:

Crusty bread
Garlic
Cherry or grape tomatoes,
Dried oregano
Olive oil
Sea salt

This is my take on bruschetta. Very subtle flavours (as it should be) and quite a rubbish photo I took with a cellphone. I wasn’t planning on blogging it but lunch ideas are important and so I will.

Quarter the tomatoes and remove the seeds. Place them in a small bowl and pour olive oil over to simply coat them. Sprinkle the dried oregano on the top and place in the refrigerator.

Take the slices of bread (as many as you’d like to use) and brush them well with olive oil. Cut a clove of garlic in half and rub it over the olive oil covered side of the bread. Heat the oven to 350 degrees F and place the bread on a baking tray in the middle of the oven for 10-15 minutes. The bread should be toasted.

Place the tomatoes on the top and sprinkle very lightly with salt. You only want it to bring out the inherent sweetness of the tomatoes and not overwhelm them. Trust me, you’ll enjoy the flavours.

A few years ago, I’d have never imagined I’d enjoy simple things this much but it’s been a journey. I’ve slowly realised that my impatience puts little into the universe as much as my perseverance does. I do want a lot of things for my life but I’m happy not to hurry them. I am still a go-getter. This is not me submitting to my handicaps (which if you ask me right now, it’s only being unable to drive legally). I’m just learning to pace myself. Let my mind rest. I have a great partner who always says, quite fleetingly, “Do whatever you want!” In an instant my mind rushes to so many places with an instant belief that yes, I can. But why? I don’t know why I’d want to spend hours working my way up to a dream when right here right now is the dream I’m kinda, sorta already living.

It aint grand. It’s no spectacle. My name isn’t on billboards but in small corners of this temporary home, a new day is a damn good deal.

Hair flip. And cue.

Get salad done Monday + Black lentil salad, that is.

April 15, 2013 by Edlyn

Where salad is another word for “stuff” and “stuff” is poop. If you’ve been reading stuff I’ve written so far, you’ll must already know how much I love doing dishes. I love it so much that I do them at least thrice a day. If I can’t find anything to wash, I make myself an unnervingly complicated bowl of food which requires no less than 83 utensils. Then I sit down and heave a sigh of relief because god knows what I’d have done if I didn’t have 83 utensils to wash.

I would have cried. Hopeless tears.

I’ve observed people around kitchen sinks all my life. Whatever they did while scrubbing blackened pots and pans looked simple enough. Yet, I felt guilt. Guilt that I did nothing to help dirty all those things and guilt that I only washed my own plate. And hand. Because that’s how we eat back in the South of the East. I knew it would eventually catch up to me.

All this love I had for washing dishes wasn’t going to stay bottled up in my big juicy heart forever. It spilled out into a sea of suds and blue scrubbers (many times over) ever since I started writing about my lust for eatable green world. Safe to say, I am overjoyed. I can now wash as many butter knives as I want without the slightest fear that somebody else (let alone a dishwasher!) is going to take away my sink full of dreams.

Butter knives? Sink full? It’s for when I want to study the wonders of natural peanut butter in pockets throughout the day. It’s going well so far, thanks for asking. Use a spoon, you say? Oh.

Studies show that using a spoon is a sure sign of an addiction. One that nobody should be willing to admit unless coaxed by observers forced to take out recycling bins full of jars that say “Skippy”. I speak like I know the truth, but really, all I know is there are certain cooking utensils that I love washing a lot more than others.

Spoons. Those same guys. Three sizes they come in. No idea why, but they’re breathtaking when you let the wonder that is running water caress their backs and it looks like a Vegas fountain. Turn the spoon the other way three seconds later and your face gets a free wash. WOW. Truly amazing.

Those scissor-looking things that people use to flip over bacon on pans and such. What a marvelous idea. I really do not know how my fingers have survived all these years without it. Washing the ends of this device is something I would give my left arm to Science for. And I don’t give things up to Science for nothing, ya know.

Knives. Oh if there was anything in the world that made me value the truth of dish-washing, knives would be it. Right on top. Number 1 and nothing less. How else could I explain the concern knives feel for me when they make me slow down. Pause. And breathe. And cherish the fact that it’s not those scissor-looking things that people use to flip over bacon that care for my fingers. It’s the knives. They love my fingers the most.

Non-stick pans and how little they actually make me work. I just have to blow on them and tuck them into a floor cabinet. Anything more is just too much Mama bear.

Pop yo collar (sometimes exploding) Pyrex. Because nothing makes me value my life more than having to see it all disappear in a matter of seconds.

Glasses where protein shakes once lived. They teach me the importance of soaking, and perseverance if I forget.

You see, I’m truly lucky. Blessed beyond measure. Ecstatic. Over the moon. Crock pot crazy! And if you know me, you’ll know that this is nothing out of the ordinary.

I feel like I’m starting to understand the vinaigrette formula better each day, and understanding it helps me adapt it to my arbitrary taste. I did a simple Internet search for a basic vinaigrette and most of them say that the ratio of vinegar to oil should be 1:3 (1tbsp vinegar:1tbsp oil). I’ve tried that formula and it works for sure but my Goan tastebuds are stubborn and they want more of the bite vinegar offers. You can tone it down if you prefer. I’m sorry if my vinegar-frenzy killed your throat or something.

Ingredients

1 cup black lentils, cooked and cooled
1/4 cup cooked and cooled quinoa (optional. I made this salad when I made those roasted carrots so I just threw in some of the quinoa that I used there)
1/2 cup roasted peanuts (unless you have allergies)
3 cups salad greens (I used a mesclun mix)

For the vinaigrette

2 tbsp apple cider vinegar
3 tbsp olive oil
1/4 tsp sea salt
Crack of pepper
Zest of 1/2 a lemon or 1 tbsp lemon juice
2 tbsp Greek yogurt
1 tsp honey (optional)

To cook the black lentils, first you have to buy them. Bring them home, scoop out half a cup and soak them in water overnight or for 10-12 hours. The next day, drain the water and put them in a pot of water with salt on medium heat for 25-30 minutes. The lentils should be just cooked through and not mushy. If they are mushy, kick it in the face and use them anyway. Life’s too short to waste good black lentils.

Roast the peanuts on a dry pan on medium high heat until they release their oils and become fragrant. Rinse and dry the salad leaves.

As for the dressing, in a small cup or bowl, mix together the vinegar and olive oil. Using a spoon or whisk, beat it until it combines. Add the salt and pepper and lemon parts and mix. Finally add the Greek yogurt to hold the vinaigrette together with its fattiness. Mix in the honey at the end.

In a medium bowl, bring the greens and lentils. Pour as much dressing as you want over and mix well. Toss the roasted peanuts in and serve cold. Guaranteed to leave your kitchen sink only slightly overwhelmed.

Ebb and flow

April 9, 2013 by Edlyn

I’m a firm believer in grating cheese over food that doesn’t impress me with its taste. I feel like this is how I want to live my life. Grating cheese over things and impressing myself. Yes, I do take the easy way out but that’s because not everything I make is Page 1-top post-hit publish worthy. If I was good at vomiting percentages, I’d say 60% of what I make tastes a lot like goat cheese. The rest is me being possessed by evil spirits and cooking things that see me spending 10 minutes staring at my taste tester.

“Is it good?”

“Do you like it?”

“You’re lying”

“It’s not that good.”

“Give me the truth, man. That’s all I ask.”

To tell you the cold hard truth, it hasn’t been that good this week. Either I’m realising that I wasn’t made with a flair for cooking or I just have temporary afternoon blahs. Or I feel too plain and I want to step up my game. If I have to, I have no idea how. Do you have such thoughts too? I assume it comes with the territory…of coming up with something new each week.

I thought about how I’d like to be Miss Spice of Life in this world and I came up with a few ideas. To everybody not reading this right now, this is me thinking out loud and motivating myself to focus on this experiment as a whole and not a day-day thing.

– Stay simple and true to your ingredients. It takes a lot for me to say “NO, I will let this lemon be a lemon and flavour my cold water right now” when all I can think of is “PIEEEEE”. Nothing wrong with that except you tend to scatter your thoughts to 70 different areas instead of taking a seat and sipping on you lemonade and feeling so cool that you can whatever you want if you just breathe.

– Reminisce food experiences. Those meals are the ones you yearn for. Find your own special way to recreate them and make them your own.

FINALLY.

– Cook the food you love to eat. If this week is all about the dal (yellow lentils) and rice, then so be it. Yesterday it was slightly different. I couldn’t stop thinking about the rainbow carrots in the vegetable drawer. They were sitting there and being pretty and I was scouring the web for recipes that would do the most justice to them. I couldn’t wait much longer so I went ahead and cooked them in the way I knew best. I would eat this 10 times over if I could.

I will have this recipe up for you sooner than you think.

In other news, I have to do a test tomorrow. For a job. Spectacular. Thankfully it requires very little getting out of bed and a lot of tea on tap.

In other other news, these guys are making my life just when I was about to give up on them.

Hey little ones, I will eat you very soon. Without cheese because that’s how good you’ll be.

Sunny side up say whaaaaat.

March 31, 2013 by Edlyn

Is it strange that I spend quite a lot of my time thinking I was made for bigger things? That I should have already written my bestseller and signed every fan copy requested of me while juggling a media career where I talked for 30 minutes every week on how we just need to get along and have cookie exchanges.

Cookie exchanges. Like stock trading with cookies.

Never mind all of that. I figure if I wanted something really badly, I would have done it already. No excuses. I sometimes wonder how I’m going to keep writing this way. Everyday, almost diligently. With strong doses of “move your arse”, I have managed well so far. Last year was spent just sitting around contemplating what I could so instead of whining. Now I just sit around. I DO NOT.

Here’s your lesson that you can gain nothing from whining but a lot from sitting down. I’ve made a lot of things in the kitchen and a lot of messes I just did not want to clean up. The fact remains that I’m always going to love cooking and taking pictures of my food. Nobody can take that away from me, least of all the pressure I sometimes put on myself to write.

My “eggs on a Sunday” post has been MIA 3 weeks now. I was going for week 4 but I changed my mind. This is a good thing because we’re all going to be winners here.

Winners not whiners. I’m going for gold, if you didn’t already know.

Sunny side up eggs on creamy-mustardy spinach

You’ll need 1 egg, a cup of spinach, dijon mustard (or any mustard you want to experiment with), heavy cream, bread crumbs (I used panko crumbs because it’s all I had), mustard seeds, parmesan-reggiano, salt and pepper. Oh, also heat the oven to 400 degrees F which takes 8000 push-ups worth of time to do in this house. You should see my arms. Buff.

On a baking sheet lined with a tiny bit of foil, mix together 1/2 tsp mustard seeds, 1/4 cup bread crumbs and 1 tsp of mustard. Put this in the oven for 5 minutes. This will go on top of the egg, for crunch ye know?

Pour water in a skillet to cover half of it and wilt the spinach in it. This should take about 3 minutes. Once it’s done, drain the spinach and squeeze out the water from it. Wipe the skillet clean and put it back on the stove with the spinach, 1 1/2 tsp mustard and 1 1/2 tbsp heavy cream. Stir until the spinach absorbs the cream and mustard, taking on a creamy texture itself. This will take 3 minutes. Season with salt, pepper, and a sprinkle of parmesan cheese. Put it on a plate and fry the egg.

HURRY.

Break the egg into the pan and once the white is completely cooked, put it on top of the spinach and sprinkle the bread crumbs on the top. Tres facile, ne c’est pas?

I try, I do.

If there’s that thing you’ve always wanted to try, do it.

Don’t be like me, hiding my non-existent bestseller from the world and everything.

Quinoa stir-fry with lemony winter greens + older and nuttier

March 29, 2013 by Edlyn

Just yesterday, Antsypants booked two tickets for us to go visit my in-laws and his parents in May. That’s where we’ll be this time two months from now. This time two months from now, I’ll also be 26. Mama, if you’re reading this, WHEN DID I BECOME 26? Bleah, it’s okay. I actually like my birthday. I forget I’m 26 at least until somebody asks me my age and then I have to think for 5 seconds when this all changed.

It wasn’t like this when I was a teenager. I was angst-ridden and the idea of me standing around a cake with people staring at me was quite unappealing. I wanted to hide in my room but I always wanted to hide in my room at that age. There were parties people came over, I came out and shook hands and said thank you. When I realised that I was missing all the presents, I tried to be better about it. Who doesn’t love presents?! Especially of the monetary, non-fabric kind.

Non-fabric kind. I just made myself “lol”. Ask me later if you want to know why.

At 25, I can say quite confidently that I don’t think like that anymore. I still don’t like birthday parties in the tradition of “let’s invite everyone we know so our faces fall off from two cheek kissing” but I like to be around the people that matter. As for presents, I feel better a lot better about giving and feeling grateful for what I already have. There’s little I need and a bulk of that you just can’t buy.

Two months to 26. If this is what it’s going to feel like, I’m alright with that. Being with the new extension to my family, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I made this recipe up from my own “too lazy to cook something fancy” brain and guess what? It turned out to be quite fancy after all. I should not try more often. My point is, if you find that you need to change the vinegar-soy sauce ratio, go ahead. Just make sure you start with less and taste as you go. I’ve made this thrice and I’ve like it most with this combination of quinoa. The red quinoa is a lot crispier even after it’s cooked and the mustard seeds give it a wonderful nutty flavour as you eat.

Ingredients

1/2 cup quinoa, rinsed and cooked (I used a mix of black, white and red quinoa from the bulk section of the grocery but any one kind will do)
1 + 2 tsp peanut oil
5 oz tofu, cut into 1/2 to 1 inch cubes
2 tsp whole mustard seeds
1 large clove garlic, chopped fine
1 cup carrots, diced
1 cup green beans,
2 tbsp lite soy sauce (it’s a lot less salty than the regular kind. You can also use tamari if you don’t like soy sauce but modify the quantity as per your tastebuds)
4 tsp rice vinegar
Winter salad greens, washed and dried (frisée, arugula, mustard, beet greens, chicory…are some example. If you don’t have any of these, you can add baby or chopped spinach)
Squeeze of lemon juice
Salt to taste

Heat a teaspoon of peanut oil in a non-stick frying pan and cook the tofu on both sides until it’s golden and crisp on the outside but still soft on the inside. It should take about 3 minutes per side. Take it out of the pan and place it on a paper towel. I thought about cutting it into cubes after frying it (makes it easier to flip) but if you’ve gone knife crazy and prepped your ingredients already, I’m sorry. I can make it up to you by cooking for you someday should our crosses path. Paths cross.

I’m not really sorry.

At this point, your quinoa should be on the stove top in a small pot, being cooked in lightly salted water or vegetable stock.

On the same frying pan where you fried the tofu, add 2 tsp of peanut oil and add the mustard seeds to it. Once the oil gets hot, the mustard seeds will start to pop. Quickly add the garlic and give it a 30-second stir. Then add the carrots and stir-fry for 3 minutes. Throw in the green beans next, then the tofu and keep stirring the mix for another 4 minutes at least.

Add the soy sauce and give it a quick stir and then add the rice vinegar. Taste here to check if all’s well in stir-fry land. Cook for 3 more minutes or until the veggies are cooked but not soft (I like them to be a little crunchy). Take it off the stove and check on the quinoa. If it’s ready, then add this stir-fry mix to it and combine the two in the quinoa pot. If it’s not, you wait till it is. That was easy. Ha.

The third part of this recipe is incorporating the salad greens. Wash and dry the greens and then squeeze some lemon juice over them in a separate bowl. You are now going to add these greens to the quinoa in the pot. The quinoa should still be warm when you do this so that the greens wilt just a tad.

Serve warm in a bowl. Squeeze more lemon juice on the top if you prefer.

Let me be your teacher.

March 28, 2013 by Edlyn

Promising people (chocolate) cake does not get you internships. Or work. Whatever. This is all you need to know about the real world. It’s a sham but if you’re reading this, together we can change the world.

Next time, I will promise beer too.

Hot cross buns with chocolate, dates and pecans + If you have no daughter.

March 27, 2013 by Edlyn

I love this time of the year. It has nothing to do with the weather but yet, it has everything to do with it. Spring time festivals all seem to come along at the exact same time. I don’t think it’s coincidental that Holi and Easter come in the same week. I know somebody planned it that way all along and then let us play with it, make our own rules and call it something marvelous, with the perfect food to accompany the event.

Except, on Holi people are too stoned to remember and everything looks like perfect food. Not speaking from experience only because drinking cannbis-laced milk things doesn’t appeal to me. I spit it out and then filmed my friends acting their lives out in slow motion. On Easter, the food isn’t traditional but on Good Friday, my family has this “thing”. It’s a fairly new thing and my favourite part of it, is that it’s completely non-traditional (at least in my mind it is).

They go to the Good Friday service: Mother, father, and my sisters and me, when I was around. The chapel is on a hill, wonderful views but in 2000 degree heat, it doesn’t really matter. There is always place to sit and simple things don’t take forever to finish. My father, driving us there and back, loves pointing out that the church they usually go to “is still doing *such and such* part of the service”, (emphasis on the “still”). We are a crafty lot that way.

Crafty as foxes, in the meadows, stalking rabbits.

Except the rabbits are masala dosas and dosas need to be eaten. I did say it was non-traditional. Yes, we eat dosas right after church, in a restaurant, on Good Friday. I would say we’re going to hell but there is no proof of that. Just like the best, we make the rules up as we go. As for the hot cross buns, those are always waiting for us at home. Full of dried fruit and a zig-zag cross. If there was a better way to wash down a dosa, I don’t want to know about it.

This is it.

This recipe does take 2 days but most of the work has everything to do with bread-like waiting. Nothing about it is intimidating and if you’re a non-professional bread maker like me, this would make for a great first experiment. This was my first and only attempt with the help of this beautiful recipe from Chocolate and Zucchini. I changed some things but the base is the same. I do encourage you to read through Clotilde’s recipe as well simply because painstakingly she made this process so much easier for me.

Ingredients

For the buns

3 cups (400 gm or 12 oz) all-purpose flour. I used Gold Medal Unbleached.
2 tsp dry yeast
3/4 cup whole milk (room temperature)
1/2 cup fresh cream
6 tbsp pecans, roughly chopped
2/3 cup (100 gm or 3 1/2 oz) Ghiradelli bittersweet chocolate chips (or any other good quality chocolate chips)
2/3 cup (100 gm or 3 1/2 oz) pitted and chopped dates
1 tbsp sweetener (agave syrup or honey or maple syrup)
1 1/2 tsp salt
Zest of 1/2 an organic lemon
1 tsp cinnamon powder

For the crosses

2 tbsp all-purpose flour
2 tbsp water

For the glaze

50 gm (1/4 cup) raw cane sugar
3 tbsp + 1 tsp water

Mix the flour and dry yeast in a large mixing bowl and then pour in the milk and fresh cream. If you have a mixer, you can use it to mix the messy mass of dough but all I have are my hands. Once incorporated, leave the dough to rest for 30 minutes.

In a separate bowl, add the pecans, chocolate chips, dates, sweetener, salt, zest and cinnamon. Stir it up well. This messy mass of goodness will go into the dough in a little bit.

Ready?

NOW. Mix the pecan-chocolate-date mass into the dough so that they’re spread out evenly. This can also be done with a stand-in mixer but like I said before, “this is a one-in-a-million hand.” Actually George said it. Love me, love my Seinfeld quips.

Fold the dough for 4 minutes. This video was in the original recipe and it shows you how it’s done (ignore the numbers and the texture of the dough in the video. Yours will look more “together”. Just take 4 minutes). At first, the dough will seem a bit tough but as you go along, it will soften up. Once this is done, place plastic wrap on the surface of the dough and cover the bowl with a plate. Your dough will then go into the fridge for 12 to 18 hours.

Day 2

Take the dough out of the fridge and let it rest for 30 minutes. It will look like it hasn’t risen at all but of course, it has. It’s just a very moderate increase in size. Lightly flour a working surface and work with the dough making equal bun-shaped pieces of it. You should have 12, according to the recipe but I had 11. They should be more of less the same shape because you want it to bake evenly. Make sure each bun has close to the same amount of the pecan/date/chocolate mix so that no unnecessary fights break out.

Line a baking tray with parchment paper and place the shaped dough an inch apart from each other. Cover it with a clean and damp towel and let it sit for 3-3 1/2 hours in a warm dark place or until they become 1/2 as big. Once the buns rise, it’s okay if they touch. You want that to happen. I personally love it when my food touches.

Next, turn your oven up to 360 degrees F (180 C). Brush the top of the bun dough with milk so they’ll brown well while they bake.

Make the mixture for the “crosses” on the hot cross buns. If you don’t have any of the piping tools to draw a cross on the buns, make one out of parchment paper. This video will show you how. Pipe the crosses on top of the buns. Place the baking tray into the oven (middle rack) and bake for 35-40 minutes or until they’re nice and brown on the outside.

I do make crappy crosses, if I say so myself.

While they bake, prepare the sugar syrup to glaze the top once the buns are out of the oven. Mix the sugar and water in a small saucepan and bring to a boil. Keep stirring until the sugar dissolves and thickens into a syrup. Brush this on the buns while they are just out of the oven. It will form a nice sugary coat on the top. This step is entirely optional, especially if you’re trying to make it lighter.

Slice the buns horizontally let them cool completely. Store in an air-tight container.

“Store in an air-tight container.” Hahaha, only if you don’t eat them all at once. Did not happen.

Bunny in a hat. hat. hat.

March 25, 2013 by Edlyn

I was never this way. Sunshine was never an excuse for lack of productivity. Guess that’s what four seasons and the lack of sun does to you. Four seasons like the seasons, not the hotel.

All day I’ve just been staring outside, thinking of what I needed to do. Yes, the sun needed to hit my skin and no, standing in a kitchen wasn’t an option. I miss the 355 days of summer I’m so used to. For a minute there I caught myself thinking about how I’d miss “layering” but who am I really fooling? I do not know how to layer. Wearing two tank tops instead of one is my idea of (lame) style more than warmth.

Welcome to the temperate zone, I guess. I also never thought I’d care this much about the weather. All I do is watch for the next full day of sun. I’m a sun person. Complete beer and cocktail with sand in my feet person. Crazy person.

You knew that part already.

As advance notice, tomorrow I’m going to be productive. If by productive you mean, stare outside and count the number of walks I’m going to take.

Probably a million. Or two.

More bunnies in the hat. If you guess what each bunny is correctly, I’ll draw you a postcard sized drawing that you can frame and then pretend that it’s the work of a very famous and cool artist. The kind you’d want to be friends with.

Such a ham.

Bye!