Savour Fare

Giveaway, The Auberge of the Flowering Hearth and Endive Salad with Bacon

Kate — Fri, 12 Mar 2010 12:22:12 +0000

As I may have mentioned before, I generally receive a several cookbooks for major gift-giving occasions. This isn't surprising; after all, I have a known cookbook problem, and I have several cookbooks on my Amazon wishlist. I'm fairly familiar with the major cookbooks that are released, what the buzz is, and what the classics are. But this Christmas my aunt (who is a fantastic cook) gave me a book I had never heard of -- the Auberge of the Flowering Hearth, by Roy Andries De Groot. "It's the book that inspired Alice Waters," she told me. I thanked her politely and added the book to my already crowded shelf of food and cookbooks.

A month or so later, I had finished my book club book for that month and was looking for something to read, and my eye fell on the Auberge. The book is unassuming, with its seventies cover and relatively unknown author (who was at some point the President of the Gourmet Club, which I'm sure had some real meaning in 1973, but sounds made up to me, like something an enterprising high school student would use to pad their college application), but I thought it would be an excellent soothing bedtime read.

What I discovered was an absolutely delightful book, and I'm giving away one copy to readers.

The Three B’s — Beets, Blue Cheese and Bacon Dip

Kate — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 11:58:12 +0000

When I was a little girl, my favorite restaurant was a steakhouse in my hometown called the Sawmill. The interior was one of those 1980's restaurants with no windows, an open kitchen, dim lighting, a terrarium, rough-hewn wood beams and leather club chairs, but to very small me it was heaven. I always ordered a steak sandwich and a Shirley Temple (in a short glass, with extra cherries), but what really made the restaurant my favorite was the old fashioned salad bar. Young children don't usually have that much control over what they eat, but at a salad bar I was master of my destiny. After much trial and error (what is the POINT of baby corn?) I settled on the winning combination of romaine lettuce, spinach (this was before the era of ubiquitous mixed greens), chick peas, scallions, croutons, bacon bits, blue cheese dressing and beets. This was a particular treat because we NEVER had beets at home -- to this day my father claims to be allergic based on a rash he got in 1948 (and to this day, I remain skeptical about the existence of such an allergy), and I loved their earthy sweetness.

Fast forward to 2006, and when enjoying a lovely (outdoor) dinner at a local Greek restaurant in Los Angeles, I discovered Patzaria -- a Greek spread made from yogurt and beets. Spread on toasted pita bread, the sweetness of the beets tempered by the tang of the yogurt, this spread was my favorite beet dish I had had since those childhood salads. So I decided to reconcile the two experiences, and come up with my own patzaria that replicates the flavors of my childhood nostalgia with a modern Greek spin. (As a housekeeping note, I'm giving away a set of Oxo Tools and you have until 11:59 Pacific Time Wednesday to enter! What are you waiting for?)

Giveaway and The Savour Fare Kitchen — Essential Kitchen Tools

Kate — Sat, 06 Mar 2010 18:08:17 +0000

Today we're returning to our Savour Fare Kitchen series with a post on Essential Kitchen Tools. While pots and pans are a little more universal due to either their straightforward functionality or their high space requirements, the tools you keep in your kitchen are idiosyncratic. I have a tendency to pick up kitchen tools right and left -- people give them to me as gifts, I receive them in goodie bags at blog events, and I am magically drawn into every Sur La Table or Williams Sonoma I walk past. As a result, this list is not going to be a comprehensive listing of my personal kitchen tools, nor can it be an exhaustive list of every tool you should own. If you really love cherry clafoutis, you should probably indulge in a cherry pitter. If you make cobb salad every Saturday for lunch, an egg slicer might be your bag. This list is just intended to serve as a starter list of some tools I use and brands I love. Additionally, read on to the end to find out how to enter the first entry in the Savour Fare March Madness Giveaway series and win some of my favorite kitchen tools!

Strawberry Orange Cream Cake – Happy Birthday, Savour Fare!

Kate — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 16:55:46 +0000

One year ago today, I was sitting around with nothing to do, and so I started a food blog. OK, it didn't exactly happen like that. If you've been reading along, you have probably realized by now that I have a life that's rather full, what with my full time (not food-related) job, a wild monkey of a two year old running my household, and a husband to boot (though given his childcare and dishwashing contributions, I think the husband nets positive in the time calculations). But I still make the time to cook. It was my hope, when I started this blog, that I could give a little insight into how real people prepare their meals. Cooking good food, from scratch, can fit into a busy life. And I hope that in this past year this blog has inspired you -- to cook when you otherwise might not have, to change up your routine, or to try something new.

This blog has certainly inspired me. It's challenged me to figure out how recipes can be made more flavorful, more streamlined or more consistent. I've gone outside my comfort zone and discovered new foods. And I've been able to write down and record some of my family favorites.

So happy first birthday, Savour Fare!

Now let's talk about a party.
...
Where would a birthday be without cake? Since I and all of my immediate family members have fall birthdays, I never get to indulge my yen for a creamy, dreamy light springtime birthday cake ... until now. This cake is four layers of fluffy orange butter cake, sandwiched together with fresh strawberries and the simplest fluffy whipped cream frosting. The whole thing is not too sweet and very satisfying. I served it to the ladies in my book club (sadly, a blog can't eat its own birthday cake), and not to brag, but almost everyone had two slices. These are Los Angeles ladies who lunch people. We are talking serious cake.

Maple Mustard Chicken with Goat Cheese and Arugula

Kate — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 02:30:09 +0000

The summer after I graduated from college, I took off for Europe. I wasn't living the bohemian life with a backpack and a Eurail pass (Quel horreur!), I was traveling with my parents and about 30 college juniors on a summer program for my mom's university. The downside of this plan was that I spent three weeks in a hotel room with my parents in what may be the most boring down on the French Riviera. The upside was that we got to take a leisurely coach ride (OK, it was a bus, but coach sounds much more romantic with its regency overtones) from Paris, through Southwestern France, and into Provence. We visited Chateaux in the Loire Valley, peered over the defensive walls in Carcassonne and tasted wine in the caves of Bordeaux. But the experience that really stuck in my mind was the day we visited the goat farm. We drove up through bucolic pastures into a fenced yard which held any number of baby goats, and then we were ushered to a small restaurant where we ate a five course lunch featuring goat cheese. There was goat cheese quiche and goat cheese flan, and aged cheeses with fruit. But the dish that I loved the best and that I still remember, many years later, was a goat cheese salad with honey. The sweetness of the honey perfectly balanced the pungency of the cheese, and the vinaigrette on the salad added a lovely acid note.

It was that dish that I had in mind when I created this maple mustard chicken with goat cheese. I'm always looking for new things to do with chicken, which seems to be the ubiquitous protein, and to add some flavor to chicken breasts. In this dish, Chicken breasts are pounded thin, and then marinated in a sweet vinaigrette of maple syrup, mustard and lemon juice. They're then spread with good fresh goat cheese and some arugula (which adds a lovely nutty taste) and then baked.

Creamed Kale

Kate — Wed, 24 Feb 2010 12:05:06 +0000

Something funny has been happening this winter -- kale has become a staple in my refrigerator. A week rarely passes when I don't buy a bunch, either from the farmer's market or during a Whole Foods run. It's a combination of being drawn to the purported health benefits of kale, admiring its ruffled appearance and just plain liking the taste. Kale has a savory heartiness that doesn't contain the metallic tones of spinach or the sometimes bitter flavors of collards or mustard greens.

Sometimes I make kale chips or crispy kale (google and you'll find a kajillion recipes -- one of these days I might even get around to posting my recipe, but it usually gets eaten too fast to take pictures), but more often, especially when my kale buying enthusiasm and my cooking time do not overlap, I end up making this creamed kale. It can be made with wilted greens, which is a plus in the flexibility department, and is easy and delicious to boot. In fact, if you've been paying attention round these parts, you may have noticed creamed kale keeping company with Lamb Top Round and Pommes Anna on New Year's Eve, or setting off this chicken sausage casserole. It's a versatile and hearty dish, and one that has become a regular in my kitchen.

Steamy Kitchen Cookbook Review and Garlic Butter Noodles with Shrimp

Kate — Fri, 19 Feb 2010 12:51:42 +0000

I have a little bit of a cookbook problem. You see, when we moved to our current home, we dedicated a reasonable sized bookcase to the cookbooks. It had four shelves, was about two and a half feet wide, and seemed perfectly fine. Until I started putting my cookbooks on it. There was a little overflow, a few cookbooks I put on another shelf, some books that I recategorized as "travel books." But the problem only got worse. It's not that I buy a ton of cookbooks -- I mean, I do buy a few, sometimes to cook with, sometimes as a souvenir when I'm traveling, sometimes because I really can't resist a used book sale. But I also receive cookbooks as gifts. And cookbooks have a way of finding their way into my house in other ways too. As a result, I have several cookbooks that are more for recreational reading than actual cooking, per se, and several more that never really see the light of day (but do look so ornamental on that bookcase. And the surrounding bookcases as well.) The point is, I have a lot of cookbooks, and while I don't mind this, my husband seems to think my collection is a bit ... excessive. So you know a new cookbook is good when he comes up to me and says "You know, that cookbook really fills a niche that I think was missing from your cookbook collection." This cookbook isn't only endorsed by me, it's endorsed by him, and that is a rare thing indeed, when it comes to cookbooks. The cookbook in question is, of course, The Steamy Kitchen Cookbook by Jaden Hair. People who are up on the food blogging community will recognize Jaden from her popular blog, Steamy Kitchen, and if you've met her in person or seen her on TV, you know that she has a lot of personal charisma and energy (Full disclosure -- I met Jaden at the 2009 Blogher Food Conference, and I received a complimentary copy of the book through the conference after party), but even if you've never heard of Jaden Hair, this is a book you'll want in your kitchen.

Laissez Les Bons Temps Roulez — Mardi Gras King Cake

Kate — Sat, 13 Feb 2010 23:54:44 +0000

Skip straight to the recipe

A confession: I've never been to Mardi Gras. I realize it counts as one of those things you should do in your life but I'm kind of afraid that that ship has sailed. Although I've never been a wild partier, there was a time when a citywide party with a crowd of strangers and copious alcohol may have seemed like it might be fun. Now, in my advancing middle age (I'll be Thirty TWO on my next birthday) I am now firmly in the stage of my life where a good time means a comfortable seat, a scintillating conversation, and one or three cocktails prepared with extreme care. And I have a secret suspicion that those three items might be hard to find in New Orleans during Mardi Gras.
There are certain things I AM sorry to miss out on, though, and one of those is the famous King Cake. I've had the French Galette des Rois for Twelfth Night (you may have noticed if you're a regular reader that my upbringing tends towards the francophone), but that frangipane and pastry confection is, from what I understand, NOT the same thing. I have friends in the South who talk about King Cakes from January 6 through Mardi Gras, and my interest was piqued. I've spent the past few years checking out all the places in Los Angeles that I thought might reasonably sell King Cake, all to no avail. So I did what any moderately insane curious person with a kitchen would do -- decided to make my own.

Love and Chocolate — Molten Chocolate Rosemary Cakes

Kate — Wed, 10 Feb 2010 21:16:57 +0000

Ken and I have been together more than eleven years, and married for almost seven. Although on occasion he still makes my breath quicken and my heart go pitterpat, I think the real boon of a long love is that warm glow of contentment that comes from security. I know what to expect, whether its pizza and TiVo every Friday night, coffee in bed every morning (milk and a teaspoon of sugar, unless either one of us is sick, in which case we have tea), or the fact that neither one of us wants to empty the dishwasher. There is a comfort in routine that does not disappoint or catch you off your guard. And yet familiar does not mean boring. There's a reason I chose this man to marry -- I find him perennially interesting (except for maybe the in depth discussions of cars or macroeconomics -- sorry, honey) and completely unique and I always want more. I love him because I know him, but I always feel like there's more to know.

And that is why, on this Valentine's Day, I'll make him these warm chocolate rosemary puddings. Sure, chocolate on Valentine's Day is something to be expected, but there are a reason cliche's become cliches. And this cliche is utterly worthwhile. It looks simple and straightforward -- almost like a brownie - but pierce the outer layer and you get depths of warm, flowing chocolate richness. The rosemary (which is optional, by the way) adds another layer to the flavor. As wonderful as chocolate can be, it's so familiar that on its own it can seem one dimensional. These puddings have an extra little frisson, a haunting flavor and fragrance that you can't quite put your finger one. This is a dessert you want to get to know better. It has hidden depths.

A Successful Experiment — Mashed Potatoes with Broccoli

Kate — Sat, 06 Feb 2010 00:25:25 +0000

Well Harrumph.

Today is World Nutella Day and I was fully planning to participate. I had at least two projects in mind and I even attempted them, but someone stole my cooking mojo and both my experiments were abject failures. If you'd like some Nutella goodness I offer up these Nutella Nanaimo Bars from last week and I hope you enjoy them. You can also check out this Nutella Cheesecake from Eat, Live, Travel, Write, this Chocolate Hazelnut Spread from David Lebovitz or this dangerous looking nutella molten lava cake from Paula at Bell'alimento. So strike one for topicality.

Also, Sunday is the Super Bowl, which is a big holiday in food terms. I was going to post a new experimental guacamole recipe, but my avocados were not photo worthy. Feel free to check out Jalapeno Popper Dip, this Easy Crockpot Chili, Hot Clam Dip, Black Eyed Pea Salsa or Pimento Cheese if you're looking for grub for the big game. Strike two for topicality. (The guacamole recipe will come later).

So I'm going to present you today with a recipe that isn't at all topical, but is good, nonetheless. It came from a desire for old fahioned, comforting, mashed potatoes (because WHO doesn't like mashed potatoes?) combined with my New Year's goal to eat more vegetables. We always have broccoli in the house (the Nuni loves it raw), and I've made mashed cauliflower before -- an idea was born.