Archive for the 'breakfast' Category
I know I’ve shared plenty of granola here before, but I have a new favourite. This clumpy, crunchy granola is bound together with peanut butter and pure maple syrup. I KNOW!! The peanut butter adds a light crunchiness I’ve never achieved with other granola formulas – like Harvest Crunch, without the over-the-top sweetness. Next time I’ll venture into peanut butter and honey territory.
I’ve had a big baking sheet of this on my kitchen counter all afternoon, and when I had to leave the house I got all panicky for a minute that I had to leave my new bff, and wound up filling a ziplock bag of it to tuck in my pocket and sneak handfuls of. You could of course spice it up with cinnamon or a pinch of ground ginger, but I kind of like it straight-up. Of course feel free to take liberties with nuts, seeds and dried fruit, too.
Extra Clumpy Peanut Butter & Maple Granola
4-5 c. old-fashioned (large flake) oats
2 c. sliced or slivered almonds
1 c. shredded coconut
1/4 t. fine sea salt
1/2 c. creamy peanut butter
1/3 c. brown sugar
1/3 c. maple syrup (the real stuff!) or liquid honey
1 c. dried fruit, such as raisins, cranberries, cherries, chopped dried figs, dates or apricots
Preheat the oven to 325F. In a large bowl, mix together the oats, almonds, coconut and salt.
In a small saucepan, combine the peanut butter, brown sugar and maple syrup over medium heat and stir until everything is melted and smooth.
Pour over the oat mixture and toss until well combined. Spread the mixture out onto a large rimmed sheet pan and bake for 30-40 minutes, stirring once or twice, until pale golden and crunchy/clumpy. Let cool and stir in the dried fruit. Store in an airtight container or in individual zip-lock baggies. Makes about 6 cups.
January 27 2012 | breakfast and grains | 18 Comments »
I’ve been running a pretty tight ship, refrigerator-wise. I’m digging right through to the back, taking inventory. On one such spelunking mission I came up with a bag containing 6 overripe pears. Pale yellow and dented, they were far too delicate to travel any distance in a lunch bag. There were too many to grate into muffins or pancakes. My freezer, which unloads the same container of pesto and a few disks of pastry dough every time I open the door, had no room. So while W sat at the table and did his home reading out loud, I chopped them into a pot with some water, sugar and ginger and made a compote. Or jam. Or something that looks great in a jar and is delicious on toast.
It’s not as sweet as most jam, which is why I felt the need to call it a compote. I dumped in a handful of cranberries from the freezer as an afterthought, which made it irresistibly sweet-tart and blushed. It might have been raspberries, or rhubarb. Whatever’s falling out of your freezer.
I admit I winged this. If you cook fruit and sugar it’s inevitable that at some point you’ll wind up with something jam-like. But this is roughly how it was done. (And no, you don’t need to peel your pears. Too much work, and those ripe skins are so thin you don’t even notice them. Plus they have fibre, which is a good thing.) By the way, those are Weck jars, from Crate & Barrel Southcentre!
Cranberry-Pear Ginger Preserves
5-6 ripe pears, cored and roughly chopped
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 cup water or apple juice
1 Tbsp. grated fresh ginger
1-2 cups fresh or frozen cranberries
Put everything into a pot and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer, occasionally mashing with a large spoon or potato masher, until the mixture thickens, looks more uniform and jam-like. (Remember it will thicken as it cools.) Transfer to clean jars and refrigerate.
Makes 3-4 cups.
January 25 2012 | breakfast and preserves | 7 Comments »
I won’t lie – it was a terrible New Year’s Eve (with the exception of the party we went to!), and an even worse New Year’s Day, starting before I even got out of bed. Today ended with taco chips for dinner and a house more disastrous than it was before Christmas, with the tree still up, no new stove, and a kitchen that looks like someone picked it up and shook it. I suppose that means things can only improve this year, right? I’m happy to read of all the clean slates and beautiful beginnings, but mine was not. It’s the worst kind of writers’ block, where you can’t think of anything good to say, and so probably shouldn’t say anything at all, but you really want to.
This apple pancake was good. There, that’s something.
A puffed pancake is easier to make than you might think, easier than traditional one-at-a-time pancakes, even. You whisk the batter together, pour it into a hot (from sautéing those apples) pan, slide it into the oven and let it puff up all crusty and crackly, like a ginormous Yorkshire pud.
If you want it to rise even higher, take the sautéed apples out of the pan, set them aside, pour the batter into the pan and bake it on its own. Then dump the apples on top when you serve it, in wedges. If you don’t want to do apples, heat up the pan on the stovetop with a little oil (and butter too, if you like) and bake the batter as-is, then fill the pancake with fresh berries to serve it.
I’m also struggling with the fact that it’s January 1st, which means a) this blog has been here 4 years! and b) I want to launch something new, which I know is either a very good or very bad idea, but would be so much fun, wouldn’t it? Especially if I start tonight and do 365 days of something. There’s so much potential on this here world wide inter-web.
And so regarding this new year, I declare a do-over. I’m back to deadlines this week but W is still home, so I’m hoping to spend some me and him time clearing the clutter, three-dimensional and otherwise, and hopefully get a good and proper start on the year – next Monday morning. Tomorrow just can’t count. I’m not fresh and focused and ready! Where did the week go?
Puffed Apple Pancake
2 apples or pears, ripe but firm, cored and sliced
1-2 Tbsp. canola oil
1-2 Tbsp. butter
1-2 Tbsp. sugar or honey
Pinch cinnamon
3 large eggs
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
3/4 cup milk
Preheat the oven to 450°F.
In a large skillet (if you have an ovenproof one, use it), sauté the apples in the oil and butter over medium heat for a minute or two. Sprinkle them with the sugar and cinnamon and cook until they start to turn golden. Remove them from the heat.
Whisk together the eggs, flour, and milk. Don’t worry about getting all the lumps out. Pour the batter over the apples in the skillet and put it in the oven. (If you don’t have an ovenproof skillet, pour the sautéed apples into a pie plate and pour the batter over them.)
Bake for 20-25 minutes, until the pancake is puffed and golden. Cut it into wedges and serve warm, sprinkled with icing sugar if you like, with the fruit and a drizzle of maple syrup. Serves 4.
January 01 2012 | breakfast | 21 Comments »
I woke up early this morning, and finding myself downstairs in the kitchen in the dark surrounded with half cleaned-out cupboards and drawers and a sink more than full with dirty dishes, I opted to make muffins. Breakfast is important, right?
Also, that half jar of mincemeat in the fridge was far more pressing than total kitchen reorganization. (I do this every holiday week – decide to overhaul the kitchen or bedroom or basement, or all three. Most often my gumption runs out after I’ve taken everything out, and before I put it all back away.)
Mincemeat is one of those things that -unlike chocolate and cheese and wine- does not translate well to any season beyond Christmas. Namely January. Eating mince tarts in the middle of January just does not taste the same as the middle of December. But what else do you do with all that mincemeat?
Bake muffins!
They won’t come out tasting of mince tarts, but of themselves – moist and fruity and wonderfully spiced. You can add chopped apple or pear and pecans or walnuts too, if you like. And if you have a little more than a cup of mincemeat, or a little less, don’t sweat it – they’ll still work.
And the house will smell wonderful when everyone gets up.
Mincemeat Muffins
Gourmet, December 1997
2 cups all-purpose flour
1/3 cup sugar
1 Tbsp. baking powder
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/4 tsp. salt
3/4 cup milk
1/3 cup canola or other mild vegetable oil
1 large egg
1 cup all-fruit mincemeat
1 small tart apple, cored and chopped
1/2 cup chopped pecans or walnuts (optional)
Preheat oven to 400°F and line twelve muffin cups with paper liners.
In a largish bowl, stir together the flour, sugar, baking powder, cinnamon and salt. In a smaller bowl (or Pyrex measuring cup) stir together the milk, oil and egg, and add it to the flour along with the mincemeat. Stir until the batter is almost combined, then add the apple and nuts and stir just until blended. Don’t worry about getting the lumps out.
Fill the muffin cups almost full and bake for 25 minutes, or until golden and springy to the touch. Serve warm.
Makes 1 dozen muffins.
December 29 2011 | bread and breakfast and snacks | 6 Comments »
I’m not quite done with cookies yet, although I can’t really classify these as cookies. They’re light, airy and crisp, and taste like what I want elephant ears and other fried dough products to taste like at the Stampede, but never do.
Rosettes are made by frying batter quickly on the end of a rosette iron, which I imagine aren’t found in too many kitchens. But I’d like to rectify that. It’s the sort of thing one might ask Santa to tuck in one’s stocking – they’re inexpensive, and worth it for the batches of crisp rosettes you’ll undoubtedly crank out every Christmas. There’s something to be said for special recipes only made on special occasions, like cookie parties and Christmas. Especially when those things are rosettes, still warm and dusted with icing sugar. Waffle irons exclusively make waffles – so why not? You may even come across some nice vintage ones at garage sales or on etsy.
The batter is similar to that of a crepe, although the result is nothing of the sort. The mixture is easily whisked together in a minute or two. Then to make the rosettes, bring an inch or two of canola or other mild vegetable oil in a smallish pot. Dip the floral end of the metal iron in the oil to heat it up, then dip it in the batter, and back into the oil. Once golden, each rosette will pop right off with the tip of a fork.
Set the pile on a paper towel-lined plate and dust with icing sugar. Pass around immediately.
Rosettes
2 large eggs
2 Tbsp. sugar
1 cup milk
1 tsp. vanilla
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 tsp. salt
canola oil, for cooking
icing sugar, for dusting
In a medium bowl, whisk together the eggs, sugar, milk and vanilla until smooth. Add the flour and salt and whisk just until blended.
Heat an inch or two of oil in a heavy medium saucepan until it’s hot but not smoking (if you have a thermometer it should register about 375°F). Dip the metal end of the rosette iron into the oil for a minute to heat up, then take it out, letting the extra oil drip into the pot.
Dip the rosette iron into the batter, without letting it come up over the top edge of the design, then submerge the iron in the oil and cook until golden, 35 to 40 seconds. Lift out iron, letting oil drip off, and pry the rosette off with a fork over a paper towel-lined plate. Repeat with remaining batter.
Dust the rosettes with icing sugar and serve immediately. Makes lots.
December 20 2011 | breakfast and cookies & squares | 17 Comments »
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