Excuse my dusty cliché, but man does time fly. It’s been more than a month since I’ve written anything here, a month of living by the beach, trying to remember where I put things in my urgency to just get unpacked already, and now it seems that summer is waning with the moon. I’m sorry for my absence; not writing here feels like not talking to your best friend for too long.

But it’s not like I haven’t been writing at all, which is why it’s been a little hard to get back into the groove. In fact, I’ve been keeping up my column for the LA Weekly’s blog, Squid Ink, with stories about lobster trap escape hatches, food stamps at farmers markets, egg safety regulations, sugar shortages, Eat-Ins and farmers market celebrations. And I’ve been cooking, just a little bit, trying to figure out my oven on the not-so-hot days, but mostly making ice cream.

I find the clicking and whirring sounds of the Cuisinart ice cream maker that Matt and Adam lent me quite comforting, a musical interlude before a delightful frozen treat, and I use it every chance I get. The recipe I’ve been working on lately was inspired by the musty, piquant Yerba Buena mint Lily had at her herb stand a few weeks ago. Standing there with Foodwoolf, my face buried in the mint taking long deep breaths, I imagined the aroma interacting with something spicy, something sultry. Chocolate. Chile. Mint.

It took a couple of tries, but the chocolate-chile-mint ice cream I envisioned that day finally came together. Neal and I are still pecking away at the first batch, where I used to crushed chile flakes. The heat in that ice cream was all front-of-the-palate, and it built so that it was a little hard to eat when you got to the bottom of the bowl. I liked the mint element, which was cooling, but there seemed to be a big hole in the middle, like donut, followed by the rich, coating quality of 85 percent Scharffenberger chocolate.

For the second batch, I searched for Fresno chiles, thinking their sweet heat might give the ice cream a rounder flavor. But then I remembered the Ibarra in my cabinet and the smoky, cinnamon-spiced heat that makes Mexican hot chocolate so intriguing. So I opted for the full-flavored ancho chile powder in my cabinet instead, added some fresh-grated Vietnamese cinnamon and toned down the bitterness on the chocolate using 70% Scharffenberger. To quote my friend Bryan, whose wife was a recipient of the first successful batch: “OMG that ice cream you made and brought is absolutely FABULOUS.  Jia-Rui (his wife) woke up talking about it this morning and I just tasted it… OMG. So damn good.”

I think you’ll feel the same way. I loved it, and I don’t even like chocolate that much.

Chocolate Chile Mint Ice Cream

2 cups heavy creamy
¾ cup sugar
3 springs Yerba Buena mint (can substitute spearmint or peppermint), chopped
5 tbsp unsweetened Dutch-process cocoa powder
3 oz chopped 70% cocoa Scharffenberger chocolate or other bittersweet, high-quality chocolate
pinch of salt
1 tsp fresh ground Vietnamese cinnamon
2 tsp ancho chile powder
1 ½ cups whole milk

Heat cream and sugar in a medium saucepan until the sugar dissolves. Add mint and let steep for 30 minutes. Re-warm and whisk in cocoa powder, trying to break up lumps. Bring mixture to a rolling boil and then remove from heat.

Slowly stir in chopped chocolate until fully melted. Add salt, cinnamon and chile powder. Stir until combined. Stir in whole milk. Pour into a storage container and chill overnight.

Strain out mint and freeze according to your ice cream maker’s instructions.

Beignets for Fat Tuesday

People who know me know this: I have very few secrets. Maybe I read too much Dr. Seuss as a kid, or maybe I was interested in psychology too early, but I offer up information about myself like a flower does pollen. So when I recently let it slip that I have an obsession with donuts, I think my fiancé Neal was a little surprised.

I wasn’t allowed to eat many sweets growing up, and there were rarely any in our house. My mom occasionally bought coffee cake or, my favorite, boxes of Entenmann’s Donuts. I loved the mildly spicy powdered cinnamon ones best. They were cakey and just a little sweet, and they would almost dissolve into a glass of milk. When the cinnamon ones were all gone, I would furtively sneak the plain cake ones, thinking no one would notice.

Somehow, most of my donut eating after that was done on the sly—the honey-dipped Dunkin’ Donuts a secret treat from my Aunt, the dozen donuts at Yum Yum when my friends and I snuck out at 2 a.m. in seventh grade, even the pre-shift sugar donut in grad school that kept me bounding around the restaurant like a five year old at a birthday party after both cake and ice cream. No one knew.

When I confessed my secret passion for donuts to Neal I discovered, to my delight, that Neal secretly harbored a love for donuts too!

Since tomorrow is Fat Tuesday, the culmination of Carnival celebrations, I thought I’d indulge my sweetheart and my sweet tooth and whip up a batch of one of my favorite kinds of donuts: beignets. Beignets are a traditional New Orleans treat—deep-fried yeast dough dusted with powdered sugar. The word beignet is French for “fritter,” a word that any donut-shop frequenter would recognize. I like mine rolled in cinnamon and sugar, though they’re also good with a little spiced chocolate.

To find a recipe I turned to my Anne, a friend and colleague who also happens to be a trained pastry chef. She pointed me in the direction of the Village Coffee Café blog, which had this simple (and might I add, fast) beignet recipe a la the famous Cajun chef, Justin Wilson. I cut mine into little bite-sized circles and served them three ways: dusted with powdered sugar, rolled in cinnamon and sugar, and dipped into oozy good dark chocolate. And I saved some dough to make them fresh for the perfect Fat Tuesday breakfast: Fresh beignets and café au lait.

Beignet Justin Wilson Style
courtesy of Village Coffee Café

2 cups flour
1 tsp salt
1 tbsp baking powder
1 tsp ground cinnamon (optional)
1 medium egg
3 tbsp sugar
1 cup milk
¼ tsp vanilla extract
1 quart of oil for deep frying
powdered sugar

Fill a large, heavy-bottomed pot with oil and heat to 375 degrees.

While the oil is heating, sift together the flour, salt, baking powder and cinnamon into a medium bowl.

In another bowl, beat the egg well. Then beat in the sugar, milk and vanilla.

Add the egg mixture to the flour mixture and stir until just moistened. Turn the dough out on to a well-floured work surface (it will be sticky) and knead lightly. Cut into diamond shapes or cut out 1-inch circles for bite-sized beignets.

Fry in oil, turning once, until lightly browned. Drain on a paper towel. Dust with powdered sugar or roll in cinnamon and sugar and serve hot.

These can easily be adapted to savory recipes as well.

I’m not as bitter about wedding planning as I was in my first post about the subject. I’m actually starting to enjoy it, thanks to my wedding planner, Emily, who has taken over all the research responsibilities. Now I can click on the myriad links she sends me leisurely. I can rule places out with a glance, and I don’t have to worry about hurting my mother’s feelings. And I can sit in my pajamas all day and flip through the stacks of wedding magazines my friend Suzy so thoughtfully lent me. None of this makes finding a location for both the ceremony and the reception that suits our budget any easier, however; it’s just less stressful.

But with most of my free time devoted to the business of getting married, and Neal hunkered down at his desk, working into the wee hours every night trying to finish a side project he took on months ago, I haven’t thought much about romance.

I’ve long had an aversion to Valentine’s Day. It was one of the few days that being single bothered me when I was, and it always felt cliché and unromantic when I wasn’t. But last year I fell off the anti-Valentine’s wagon lock, stock and chocolate-covered barrel. And this year I’m grateful that it’s coming up, if only that it’ll shake me out of my future-oriented daze and get me to pay some well-deserved attention to the man I love. While I’m working diligently to whip a mental recipe to make Neal melt like a box of Russell Stovers left in the sun, here are a couple of click-and-go treats from my quiver.

Recchiuti Confections
If your lover likes chocolate, these elegant, rich, subtly infused delights are a no-brainer. Using top-quality chocolate from Valrhona, El Rey, Scharffenberger and E. Guittard, Michael Recchiuti’s collection of sweets are like the cacao version of Jeff Buckley’s “Lover, You Should Have Come Over”—they will bring you to your knees. My favorite was easily the Sur de Lago—extra bitter chocolate ganache resting on a Sur de Lago chocolate disk with crushed Sur de Lago nibs all covered in bittersweet chocolate. While decadent enough to make you want to tear your clothes off, it wasn’t too sweet and it had the most textural contrast of all the Recchiuti chocolates that I tried. The San Francisco chocolatier has special Valentine’s selections, but nearly anything from this house of chocolate would work. If you’re really looking to impress (or can’t decide), try one of Recchiuti’s Chocolate Clubs and fill the next three, six or 12 months with chocolaty bliss. Order online or check out their store at the Ferry Building Marketplace in San Francisco.

Carmela Ice Cream
If you’re current relationship is hot and steamy, the last thing you’ll want to do is overheat before Valentine’s is over. Carmela Ice Cream’s cool, creamy confections will also quickly put the thaw on any anti-Valentine’s sentiments. Jessica has whipped up a Valentine’s assortment that includes a reprise of the ever-popular Rose Petal ice cream, which has a hint of rosewater and flecks of organic red roses. The sampler also includes Lavender Honey, made with organic lavender from Silver Lake Farms and local honey, Brown Sugar Vanilla Bean, which is exotic and earthy, Salted Caramel, Dark Chocolate Cacao Nib, Spiced Strawberry Sorbet, Blood Orange Sorbet and Aztec Chocolate, a blend that includes Ceylon cinnamon, whole Madagascar vanilla beans and spicy Ancho and Chipotle chile peppers—the perfect way to reintroduce the heat after these frozen desserts. You can order Carmela’s ice creams online by February 9th or pick them up from one of the area farmers’ markets: Culver City, Silver Lake, South Pasadena or Hollywood.

Sugarbird Sweets
Bring out the little kid in your sweetheart with handmade marshmallows and rosewater Rice Krispie treats from Sugarbird Sweets. Using gourmet fruit purees and fresh herbs from the garden or the farmers’ market, Kei takes the marshmallow to a whole new level. The strawberry heart marshmallows are intense, but to me the perfect Valentine’s flavor is passion fruit, which has a lovely tropical tang to it. Kei left her job working pastry at David Meyer’s Sona and now reserves her handiwork for these confections, currently available at the Carmela booth at the farmers’ market and from her Etsy site.

Strawberry Preserves with Black Pepper and Balsamic Vinegar

I can’t find my first sentence. Do you know where it went? I had it wrapped around my brain when I rolled out of bed this morning, but staring at the computer now, I can’t remember what it was. I had been dreaming about Top Chef again and Gordon Ramsey was the judge and Nancy Silverton had replaced Padma. We were getting ready to start the Quick Fire Challenge when G-Ram said…what?! Argh!

If you’ve seen enough episodes of Ramsey’s Kitchen Nightmares you’d know that Gordon tells all his flailing restaurateurs the same thing every time–that the key to success is simple, fresh ingredients prepared well. It’s easy to get seduced by the idea that a complicated dish is the superior one, but like writing, getting rid of the fat usually makes the meat taste better.

To me, Nancy Silverton exemplifies what Gordon Ramsey rails on about. Her entire career has been about elevating the simple: bread, cheese, grilled cheese. Having trouble writing last night, I decided to go visit Nancy and have something to eat over at Osteria Mozza. I only ordered two small dishes, but it was the first that inspired me to come home and write about simplicity. The dish was based on five ingredients: sheep’s milk ricotta, roasted garlic, roasted hazelnuts, fleur de sel and lemon zest. The garlic appeared three ways, as sweet whole cloves mingling with the roasted hazelnuts on the plate, whipped until it was the consistency of creamed honey and spooned onto the dish beneath the ricotta and blended with hazelnuts to create an aillade then spread onto crostini. Its smoky, earthy sweetness was the anchor on the plate, grounding the ethereal texture of the slightly tangy sheep’s milk ricotta. The hazelnuts and crostini were the perfect textural counterpoint adding depth of flavor in addition to crunch. The salt and the lemon zest elevated the whole dish. Nothing was masked, nothing was overwhelmed. Instead, it was like every ingredient had the volume turned up all the way–their dissonance coming together in harmony.

It was an expensive and roundabout way to get me to the simplicity of strawberry preserves, but sometimes you have to stretch the rubberband, you know?

Though it’s only the beginning of April, the strawberries at the farmers market have already been tempting me, beckoning with their ruby clad fingers of perfume. Amazingly, I bought a flat a couple of weeks ago and promptly forgot about them for a week. When I finally remembered, the strawberries were a little soft, but still super-sweet and vibrant. Since their texture was the main thing that suffered, I decided to make strawberry preserves with balsamic and black pepper. Tangy, spicy and sweet, this simple jam is the perfect foil for fresh bread, robiola or braised short ribs. The recipe is the epitome of simple–just five ingredients–and absolutely transcendent.

Strawberry Preserves with Black Pepper and Balsamic Vinegar
from Gourmet, June 1997

2 cups strawberries (about 1 pint), trimmed and quartered
1 ½ cups sugar
3 tbps balsamic vinegar (I like an aceto from Modena)
3 tbsp water
1 tsp cracked black pepper

Combine all ingredients in a saucepan and bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer, occasionally skimming the foam off the top. Cook until thickened and translucent. Remove from pan and cool completely. Preserves keep, covered and chilled for one month.

It’s taken me a couple of times to figure out “thickened” means slightly syrupy, which usually takes about 30-40 minutes. Remember that the preserves will thicken when they cool, too. If you want to make a larger batch, I recommend heating some canning jars and processing them for 15 minutes in boiling water after you remove the preserves from the stove. To read more about canning, read my End of Summer post.

Valrhona Suave au chocolat et aux pommes

I have long counted myself among the Valentine’s Day-haters, a scowling anti-cupid. And my hate was the self-righteous kind, the disdain of the enlightened, of someone who didn’t buy into a holiday concocted to sell more greeting cards and chocolate—something like a Valentine’s vegan. But then I fell deeply in love. And suddenly, like someone who had deprived themselves of bacon and butter too long, I fell off the deep end.

Square One
Casting aside my fear of doilies, heart-shaped boxes of chocolate and fluffy animals bearing pithy “conversation” hearts, I got quickly got down to the business of deciding what kind of Valentine’s Day I would like. After nearly 15 years in the restaurant business, pitching prix fixe menus, I knew I wanted to cook a meal at home. While scanning my cookbooks for the perfect menu, one that wouldn’t leave me in the kitchen all night, I began running through gift ideas. Neal, like my mother, is not easy to shop for. So after much contemplation, I had finally decided on buying him an autographed Manny Ramirez rookie baseball card. While it didn’t have the romantic sentiment that I had initially hoped for, Manny is his favorite player on the Red Sox. And we did fall in love over homemade dinners and Red Sox games on TV. But when a friend emailed me to say that autographed baseball cards weren’t as valuable as unsigned ones, and I noted the lack of memorabilia in our apartment (contrary to what you might be imagining, I do not live inside a scene from Fever Pitch), I decided to shelve the idea until I could get more information.

Back to Square One
My dad suggested doing something simple. He’s bought my mother a Nestle’s Chunky and a single red rose for almost all of the soon-to-be 35 years they’ve been married. But the candy and flowers thing, no matter how unconventional, isn’t really my bag. So night after night I stared blankly at our butter cream yellow walls, trying to imagine a perfect, creative gift, perhaps something that I could do instead of buy. Then, like a fresh coat of paint brightens the dullest room, it dawned on me: our walls! I would paint our bedroom (or at least promise to). Neal’s hated the color since the painters’ first stroke. It was simple and thoughtful and just unusual enough to work. So I got started on my I.O.U.

The Menu
My Valentine’s menu didn’t really take shape until the morning of, while I was cutting out pink, red and white paper hearts to scatter across our entryway. It had to have shrimp and chocolate, but also had to be easy enough to make so that we weren’t eating at mid-night. It was a workday after all. I remembered marking a recipe for Quick and Easy Cioppino in the October issue of Gourmet; that would work if I added shrimp and, perhaps, some fresh King or Snow crab to the pot. A little crusty sourdough from La Brea Bakery and a bottle of southern Italian wine and the dinner plan was set. Dessert would have to be something chocolate, since Neal loves it. I thought about a soufflé or a pot de crème, but decided on a recipe straight from the Valrhona chocolate website:

Suave au chocolat et aux pommes
3 tart apples, peeled and chopped coarsely
2/3 cup hazelnuts (with the skin), chopped
9 oz Caraïbe couverture, 66% cocoa, chopped
2/3 cup whipping cream
3 egg yolks
1 tbsp, slightly rounded, cornstarch
3 egg whites
3 tbsp honey
Softened butter for the cake pan
Powdered sugar
Powdered cinnamon

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter an 11-inch springform cake pan. Prep the apples and hazelnuts; set aside. Bring whipping cream to a boil and pour over chopped chocolate. Whisk in the egg yolks and cornstarch, being careful to avoid lumps. Add honey to the egg whites and whip to soft peals. Incorporate a small amount of the whipped whites into the still lukewarm chocolate and cream mixture using a whisk, to temper it. Then, with a spatula, gently incorporate the rest of the remaining whites. Pour the batter into the cake pan then sprinkle the chopped nuts and apples over the top. Dust with powdered sugar and cinnamon before baking. Set on middle oven rack and bake for 25-30 minutes, or until a knife inserted in the center of the cake comes out clean.Cool on a rack and unmold only after it has cooled to lukewarm.

I’d never made a Suave before, but I’m glad I did. It was rich and dense, with the tang of the apples and roasted hazelnut flavors really complementing the bittersweet chocolate. I actually used 71% cacao Valrhona chocolate, because that’s what I had already bought, and I only used seven ounces (two bars), which was plenty! I also didn’t have a springform pan and substituted two 9-inch cake pans. I’m sure this affected the texture of the cake a bit, but it didn’t keep it from being utterly decadent and delicious. I made a small amount of fresh, slightly sweetened whipped cream to counter the richness. I might add a little cayenne if I make this again, though, the dessert definitely calls out for a spicy foil.

Overall, I’d say, our first Valentine’s was a success. And any chance of the gag-me-cheesiness was immediately lost when I slammed the door in Neal’s face when he arrived home for work 15 minutes earlier than I’d expected. I was just switching NPR for Tom Petty on the stereo and still had to scatter the hearts and light some candles. We laughed hysterically when I finally let him in, cold and a little pissed off for having been left out on the doorstep alone for so long.