Today, I finally concocted a granola I can call my own. While I have made many batches of granola in the past, they’ve always come from recipes. My science-minded self craves structure, reliability, and accuracy. Therefore, before I set out to cook, I scour the cookbook shelf and the blogosphere for the golden ratio of ingredients. I realized that when it came to granola, this was quite hypocritical. Granola is a staple of the 1970’s, and it begs for free love. So this afternoon, I let myself go and mixed up my favorite ingredients to make the most delicious batch of granola that has ever emerged from my oven.

Inspired by a recent New York Times article, I used olive oil instead of the usual canola. This not only gave the granola a great golden color, but also imbued it with a fruity undertone. I had recently been given a giant jar of homemade honey from a farm in South Florida, and I used a generous pour to give the granola a rich sweetness. My nuts of choice were sliced almonds and bright green pumpkin seeds. I also added a healthy dose of ground flaxseed, shredded coconut, and a few grinds of sea salt.

As the granola baked away, I realized I had forgotten to add the ingredient I was most excited about: orange zest. However, this turned into a delicious mistake. The instant the warm granola came out of the oven I grated the zest of an entire orange over it and let the warm oats and nuts drink up the bright orange oil. Once it had cooled completely I tossed in dried apricots and cranberries. I’ve already munched on quite a few handfuls, and I can’t wait to have it for breakfast with Greek yogurt. I hypothesize that the results of this kitchen experiment will be well received by all taste testers

Recipe after the jump.

Joanna’s Granola
Feel free to make substitutions that suit your taste. Granola stores very well in an airtight container in the freezer.
3 cups old-fashioned oats
1 1/2 cups sliced almonds
1 cup pumpkin seeds
1 cup sweetened shredded coconut
2 tsp sea salt
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
2 tbsp honey
2 tbsp brown sugar
1 orange
2 tbsp chopped dried apricots
1/4 cup dried cranberries

Preheat the oven to 300°F. Combine oats, nuts, coconut, and salt in a large bowl. In a small heatproof bowl microwave the olive oil, honey, and brown sugar for 1 minute. Stir together the wet ingredients, making sure there are no clumps of brown sugar. Pour the wet mixture over the dry mixture and stir to coat evenly. Pour the mixture onto a large rimmed cookie sheet that has been prepared with non-stick cooking spray. Pat down the mixture so that it is in a uniform layer. Bake for 15 minutes, and then stir to redistribute the mixture. Bake for another 10 minutes, and stir again. Bake for an additional 10 minutes, or until golden brown. Remove granola from the oven and grate the zest of the whole orange over the mixture. Use your hands or a spatula to mix the zest evenly throughout the granola. Allow granola to cool for about 30 minutes and then add the apricots and cranberries. Store in an airtight container.

Complimentary truffles from the DiLido Beach Club

Last week was Erica’s birthday, but since it fell on a busy Monday, the family had a celebratory dinner Sunday night instead. As per the birthday girl’s request, we had chili-rubbed ribeyes with sweet corn and saffron mashed potatoes and a big salad. Papi also prepared some refreshing marlin ceviche, which he served with avocado and sweet potato cubes, as is customary in Peru. It was an all-around delicious meal!

But what would a birthday dinner be without a decadent dessert? 24 years of life deserve a special treat, and Erica and I spent the entire week leading up to her birthday tossing around ideas for the perfect birthday dessert. We quickly agreed that warm cake or cookie with ice cream would be the way to go, but it wasn’t until Saturday afternoon that we settled on the winning combination: warm Ghirardelli brownies (the only mix we ever use, and swear by) with homemade cherry ice cream with chocolate chunks.

I spent Saturday night staining my fingers deep magenta as I pitted close to a pound of fresh cherries. The ice cream base was extremely easy to make, requiring no eggs and a quick whirr through the blender. Many ice cream recipes call for the addition of alcohol, because since the alcohol doesn’t freeze, the ice cream retains a softer texture. I used a combination of Frangelico (hazlenut) and Chambord (raspberry) liquors and together they provided a sweet and nutty background for the tart cherries. Although I believe that when it comes to chocolate, the darker the better, Erica is a milk girl, so for this occasion, I folded in some milk chocolate chips at the end.

The brownies, fresh out of the oven, were topped with scoops of the whimsy pink ice cream and sprinkled with crunchy toasted salted almond slivers. The humble quart I made disappeared as our sweet-toothed family members lined up for servings. It had been a while since I last made ice cream, but last night reminded me of how easy and popular of a summertime dessert this is. I can’t wait to experiment with some more fruits and flavors in the near future.

I’m glad I was able to make Erica’s birthday that much sweeter. Happy Birthday, sista!

We’ve had annual subscriptions to Bon Appetit and Gourmet magazines for as long as I can remember. Each time a new issue arrives, I eagerly flip through the pages, drooling over the food porn and bookmarking the five-course meals and sky high cakes that I plan on making. Unfortunately, my lofty culinary goals usually get cast into the ever-growing pile of magazines that adorns our living room. Soon thereafter, the next month’s issue arrives, and the delicious dishes I dreamed of cooking never come to fruition.

Today, Papi ended this vicious cycle.

The cover of June’s Bon Appetit had been staring at us for weeks—artfully prepared shrimp enchiladas with salsa verde. Before we had even eaten breakfast, Papi resolutely declared that we were making these for dinner. We were so excited to finally bring a beloved cover to life that we spent all day shopping and preparing for the meal. As 5pm rolled around, smells of freshly chopped oregano and cilantro and caramelizing onions filled our house. After a couple hours of kitchen teamwork, we sat down to an amazing dinner.

Papi attributes the incredibleness of this dish to all of the layers of flavor. The enchiladas were simply stuffed with sauteed shrimp, caramelized onions, and cotija cheese (a hard, crumbly Mexican cheese similar to feta), and layered with salsa verde (we took the easy way out and used Goya). But when served with creamy avocado, fresh sliced red onion, cilantro, lime, and crema (a liquidy Mexican sour cream), magic happened. The melange of textures, temperatures, and tastes melded perfectly. We served the enchiladas alongside Mom’s homemade black bean salad and roasted corn on the cob. It was a perfect meal for a leisurely summer night. Hopefully, the curse has been broken, and many more of our treasured magazines will be uncovered.

Nobody in the family has a green thumb, so I was shocked on a recent visit home when my mother’s formerly dinky Chia herb garden had overtaken an entire corner of backyard, all wild and green and begging to be simmered into soups and snipped into salads.  The thyme, rosemary, and oregano are plentiful, but it’s the summer basils and mint that are truly impressive.  Mom claims they tripled–if not quadrupled–with the first big rain, a la Jack’s beanstalk.  I half listened while daydreaming of my new mini-prep food processor and the delicious pesto I could make by mixing basils and perhaps a sprig or two of mint.

It was as bright and and fresh as I had hoped, and made for a 10-minute weekday lunch or dinner served over orzo with diced tomatoes.

Recipe after the jump.

Two Basil & Mint Pesto

They’re back.

They began falling early and in abundance.  Trees that lay dormant in past years are hanging low with the weight of fruit shining violet and green and all shades of orange like long forgotten Christmas lights.  While walking the dog in my parents’ neighborhood I spied an elderly couple tying extra support beams to their year-old sapling whose young branches bent earthward, the dozen or so absurdly large mangoes flirting with blades of grass.

For me, the beginning of summer is not defined by a holiday weekend or the end of school or the tilt of the earth but by two distinct smells: imminent thunderstorms and ripe mangoes.  This weekend, as Joanna and I watched grey-black clouds overtake Biscayne Bay from a bench swing in Stiltsville, our sweet-smelling fingers stained orange, my summer arrived.

We’ve rhapsodized about mangoes before, and I still hold that the ripe fruit alone is better than any recipe out there.  The one possible exception is mango salsa.  It is sweet and spicy and impossible to eat in small quantities.  I’ll make pints of it, certain that I’m set for at least a week of delicious snacking, but none too surprised when I find the container empty the next afternoon.  Everyone in the family has her own recipe, each featuring diced fresh mango.

 After years of trying every possible shortcut to get at the flesh of a mango, I must admit that using a peeler (though not my favorite task) gives the best results.  To achieve the small dice perfect for chip scooping, look at the shape of the mango and determine where its flat elliptical seed runs from top to bottom.  Use one hand to steady the fruit lengthwise on a cutting board so that the seed is perpendicular with the board.  Cut quarter- to half-inch slices until you reach the seed; repeat on opposite side.  A medium-large mango should yield 3-4 slices per side.  Dice into evenly sized cubes.  Using a paring knife, detach any remaining fruit from the seed.

This salsa isn’t just for chips.  It’s great on grilled chicken, skirt steaks, fish, wrapped in a burrito, or tossed in a summer salad.  I’ve been known to eat it straight up with a spoon.  Best of all, making it requires only fresh ingredients and a sharp knife.

Mango salsa

 2 mangoes, diced in ½ inch cubes

1 red bell pepper, diced

1 jalapeño pepper, diced

½ small red onion, finely diced

½ can black beans, drained and rinsed

Juice of 1-2 limes

2 tsp. olive oil (optional—counters the acidity of other ingredients)

1 small handful of cilantro, chopped

Salt and cumin, to taste

 Combine first five ingredients in large bowl.  Mix in lime juice and olive oil (if using) at the same time.  Add ¼ tsp each of salt and cumin, stir, taste, and add sparingly to taste.  Stir in cilantro and serve or keep in refrigerator for up to 5 days. 

I find the salsa is best after chilling for a few hours, when the raw onion mellows, and the flavor trio of spicy jalapeño, sour lime, and sweet mango to melds into smooth perfection.

After a lengthy blog hiatus, mumblepie is back with a vengeance to share the flavors of Miami!

We wanted to inaugurate summer 2009 with an easy and flavorful recipe for Vietnamese summer rolls. We’ve always enjoyed summer rolls in restaurants, but we never realized how easy it was to make our own. Fresh vegetables, zesty herbs, shrimp, and rice noodles are simply wrapped in a rice paper skin, which can be found at a local Asian grocery store. Whip up a simple peanut sauce alongside and you have a light and summery dish.

We served these as appetizers at a family party, so they were cut into thirds, but you could easily leave these whole and make a meal out of them.

Welcome back to mumblepie!

See recipe after jump.

Vietnamese Summer Rolls
15 rice paper skins
1 package vermicelli rice noodles, cooked
15 shrimp, cooked and split lengthwise
1 head Boston lettuce, torn into pieces
Julienned carrots
Bean sprouts
8 spears asparagus, steamed and cooled, cut in half
30 fresh mint leaves
15 fresh basil leaves

Soak rice paper skin in hot water for 5 seconds and lay it on a cloth towel. Place a piece of lettuce on the rice paper, about a third of the way from the bottom. On top of the lettuce, place two shrimp halves, carrots, bean sprouts, an asparagus spear, 2 mint leaves, and 1 basil leaf. Be careful to not pile on too many ingredients, or else it will be difficult to roll. Fold the bottom of the rice paper over the filling and tuck in the sides. Continue to roll the paper until you have created a neat package. Slice if desired, or serve whole with peanut dipping sauce. Be sure to eat them the day they are made, or else the rice paper will dehydrate.

Peanut Sauce
1 cup peanut butter
¼ cup water
3 tsp rice wine vinegar
2 tbsp honey
1 tbsp mustard
1 tsp sesame oil
2 tsp soy sauce
½ tsp minced ginger

Combine ingredients in a bowl.

After a long set of final exams, I’m finally back in Miami to enjoy the warmth and the holidays. I wanted nothing more than to spend my first weekend home in the kitchen and surrounded by family. These two desires merged perfectly on Sunday afternoon when my sister, mom, aunts, and I got together to bake holiday cookies. Everyone brought a recipe and ingredients, and we ended up making five very different and very delicious cookies

Mom made incredible Chocolate Thumbprint Cookies filled with ganache. They had a slight hint of saltiness that perfectly matched the richness of the chocolate. These are to die for.

Aunt Susan made Giant Ginger Cookies, full of molasses, brown sugar, and spices. These are soft and chewy and encapsulate true holiday flavor.

Aunt Karen made classic Russian tea cakes. They were buttery, crumbly, and covered in powdered sugar. Simple and incredible.

Erica recreated her favorite French iced sugar cookies. Rolling them out proved challenging given the humidity in Miami, but she devised an ingenious technique of rolling out the dough on a refrigerated metal cookie sheet. It worked like a charm, and resulted in soft, sugarplum colored hearts with a sprinkling of glittery sugar for holiday flair.

I also tried my hand at a rolled cookie, Rugelach. I encountered some challenges in rolling out my dough, and ended up with unruly mounds, rather than uniform crescents. Given their haggard appearance, I lovingly renamed them “ugelach.” Looks aside, they tasted great. The cream cheese dough was filled with apricot jam, cinnamon sugar, walnuts, raisins, and chocolate. I have already made and frozen another batch for Christmas morning. These actually held their shape, so I will post a photo of the non-ugly rugelach soon!

All in all, baking with the family was the perfect way to spend my first Sunday home. This was the first time we’ve done a holiday cookie bake-off, but I hope it will become an annual tradition!

Generally, I’m not a fan of chicken (gasp!). The chicken widely available in American supermarkets is at best a bland slate for any number of sauces and flavors. Even for the chicken dishes I sort of like, my enjoyment is in spite of, not because of, the bird at the center. Fried chicken usually falls under this category, the bone-in poultry serving as a socially acceptable delivery method for the actual goodies: spicy breaded animal fat, deep fried to a crisp. I started work on my chicken frying skills this summer, and to my shock, have perfected the art of golden chicken pieces whose flesh tastes nearly as good as their skin.

The secret is starting at least 48 hours ahead of the first bite, which takes special motivation if, like me, your best cooking results when precious free time meets creative culinary whim. But I promise, this is one dish worth the planning. What gives the flesh its flavor is a highly seasoned buttermilk brine or marinade. The technique is old news, but I think the level of seasoning and time spent soaking are the keys to making this chicken meat the most tender I’ve tried.

I follow this recipe but vary the spices depending on mood, side dishes, and what’s on hand. I usually swap cayenne for ruby-red Indian chili powder, and have tried combinations of Dijon, yellow, and honey mustard. You can play with flavors but follow these essential tips: brine for 24+ hours in a zip top bag with all of the air removed, turn the bag over and massage the buttermilk into the chicken pieces a few times a day, and use enough salt to flavor even the thickest breast meat (the seasoned buttermilk will taste oppressively salty).

After its long milk bath, the chicken spends another hour mingling with a simply seasoned flour mixture. If you buy a “fryer,” split the breasts in half, or better yet, have the butcher do it for you. A full-sized breast would take forever to fry. Like magic, your 8-piece chicken dinner becomes 10, so you can invite more friends over to rave about how your fried chicken is even better than that world-famous chicken they waited in line 2 hours to try while vacationing in [fill-in-the-blank southern city].

Per the recipe, I fry in peanut oil which can be pricey. Light colored vegetable oil or shortening should make a fine substitute. Because I love fried chicken but don’t want my couch/dog/clothes smelling like it a week later, I fry outside in an electric skillet. This has the added bonus of choosing a temperature dial, which eliminates the need for an immersion thermometer.

I’ve found that serving the chicken after exactly ten minutes on a wire cooling rack produces perfectly crispy skin that adheres to the meat and flesh that is warm and juicy but won’t burn your mouth. Served with mashed potatoes and a simple salad dressed in buttermilk, this is finally a chicken I can love.

Miami should be the easiest place in the country to avoid gaining the 5 pounds the average American puts on during the prolonged holiday season. As frost descends on northern fields and produce markets fill with tubers, South Florida’s growing season begins (more on this soon).

But television ads and weather reports blow high definition snow into the living room; department store windows display faux hearths and cashmere gifts; and every food magazine arrives replete with sublimely photographed holiday recipes. So in the spirit of seasonal camaraderie, I’ve gone on a comfort food cooking binge. This weekend’s experiment was a duo of pizzas.

The craving came after nightfall-way to late to start playing with yeast, so I cheated and purchased a ball of dough from our neighborhood pizzeria. Unlike a supermarket crust, I know that the product I’m getting has the same simple ingredients I would use at home (and doesn’t require hauling out and cleaning the stand mixer). Using ingredients I had on hand, I came up with two delicious pizzas: one of the familiar tomato sauce and mozzarella variety, the other similar to a savory tart or flatbread.

The American

[thin crust, tomato sauce, hand grated mozzarella, sautéed mushrooms, bacon, pepperoni, and garden basil]

We topped this with huile picante (a chili and spice oil ubiquitous at pizzerias in France and Northern Italy) I had picked up at a market in Avignon. I was sure this was the winning pizza until I tried the second one.

The Mediterranean

[very thin crust with raised edges, fig preserves, caramelized onions, fleur de sel; topped with prosciutto and manchego after baking]

I began caramelizing onions with a niçoise pissaladiere in mind. But then I thought of the lonely block of manchego in the fridge and this lovely tart followed. This would be perfect cut into squares as an appetizer, or served in a breadbasket with dinner (minus the ham and cheese). The crust melded with the fig and onions in the oven, and the result was paper thin, sweet, and addictive.

I baked both pizzas on an oiled cookie sheet at 500 for approximately 10 minutes.

It seems that as the seasons change, so does my appetite. The faster the leaves turn colors and the chillier the air gets, the intenser my cravings for the flavors of fall become. Pumpkin has been a star ingredient in many of my meals for the past month. From oatmeal to yogurt to soups to pastas, it adds warmth and creaminess to every dish. Today it found its place in a delightfully moist cake, made all the more decadent by a gooey ribbon of chocolate chip walnut streusel. This will definitely be a staple in my autumn repertoire.

Recipe after jump.

Pumpkin Cake with Chocolate Chip Walnut Streusel
Cake:
½ cup oil
½ cup sugar
½ cup brown sugar
2 eggs
1 cup canned pumpkin puree
1 ½ cups flour
1 tsp baking soda
½ tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt
1 tbsp cinnamon
½ tsp nutmeg
½ tsp ginger
¼ cup milk
1 tsp vanilla
Streusel:
¼ cup brown sugar
1 tbsp cinnamon
¼ cup chopped walnuts
¼ cup chocolate chips
For cake: Preheat oven to 350°. Grease a 9×9 square pan. Whisk together oil and sugar. Add eggs and beat until combined. Add pumpkin puree. Add dry ingredients and spices and stir until just combined. Add milk and vanilla and stir to incorporate.
For streusel: Combine ingredients.
To assemble: Pour half of the cake batter into the prepared pan. Sprinkle the streusel evenly over the batter. Add the remaining batter and spread to cover the streusel layer. Bake for about 25 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out with small crumbs adhering to it.