white (subway) tile.

My subway tile obsession continues.  

I can't help continuously falling for it.  The white is just clean but interesting and I keep finding myself drawn to clean but interesting lines.  

Oh and let's talk about that oven...And those wall hooks which are my other obsession.  

Image via Pinterest. 

buttermilk biscuits.

 























I used to firmly believe that unless you were born south of the Mason-Dixon Line it would be impossible to bake a perfect biscuit.  (I also like to imagine that when you are a baby born in the South that the first solid food you are given is a buttermilk biscuit but that’s probably not the case since I don’t think babies are supposed to eat butter.) I’ve struggled with having them emerge from the oven as towering golden brown masses that when broken open reveal a steaming fluffy interior perfect for stuffing softly scrambled eggs into.  Instead, when I opened the oven I would be greeted with something that resembled a tan hockey puck (which is never a good look or very tasty).   I continued to try tirelessly and then practically gave up until my (imaginary) best friend Deb over at Smitten Kitchen revealed her go to biscuit recipe and then all was right in the world.  These are perfect; tender and buttery with an incredible tangy undertone.  I’ve served them slathered with spicy honey as an accompaniment to this fried chicken, as the perfect base for strawberry shortcakes, and with butter and homemade rhubarb jam as a side to scrambled eggs.  This is a recipe everyone should have their repertoire because they are exactly how I imagine a perfect Southern biscuit tastes. 

Buttermilk Biscuits
Recipe via Smitten Kitchen

Makes 6 large sandwich style biscuits or 9 normal-sized biscuits 

As Deb notes on Smitten Kitchen the sugar can be dialed up or down depending on their use.  For me I prefer to keep the sugar content low as I find if I am using them in a sweet manner (i.e. Strawberry Shortcakes) that there is enough sugar in the other components to balance out the biscuits.  Freezing these pre-formed is also rather genius as it allows you to wake up on Saturday mornings and simply turn on the oven to bake them up and in about 20 minutes you have the perfect accompaniment to eggs!

2 1/4 cups (280 grams) all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons (my prefernce) to 1 1/2 tablespoons (10 to 20 grams) sugar (to taste, see note above)
1 tablespoon (15 grams) baking powder
3/4 teaspoon (5 grams) table salt
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
9 tablespoons (125 grams) chilled unsalted butter, cut into small chunks
3/4 cup (175 ml) buttermilk

Preheat oven to 400 °F and cover baking sheet with parchment paper. Whisk flour, sugar, baking powder, salt and baking soda in large, wide bowl. Using fingertips or a pastry blender, work butter into dry ingredients until the mixture resembles a coarse meal, Add buttermilk and stir until large, craggy clumps form. Reach hands into bowl and knead mixture briefly until it just holds together.

To form biscuit rounds: Transfer dough to floured counter and pat out until 1/2 to 3/4-inch thick (err on the thin side if uncertain, as the tall ones will literally rise and then tip over, like mine did the day I photographed these). Using a round cutter (2 inches for regular sized biscuits, 3 inches for the monstrous ones shown above), press straight down — twisting produces less layered sides — and transfer rounds to prepared sheet, spacing two inches apart.

To drop biscuits: Drop 1/4-cup spoonfuls onto baking sheet, spacing two inches apart.

Bake until biscuits are golden brown on top, about 12 to 15 minutes. Cool slightly, then serve warm, with butter/jam/eggs//fried chicken/macerated strawberries and cream.  The possibilities are rather endless.  

new at the market.

Baby, it's summer.  

There are still a few lingering streaks of light pink and orange evening light that I can catch over the high-rise buildings behind my apartment.  

The days are finally shifting.  They are longer, lazier.  

The market had a lot of surprises today - quarts of jewel like ruby-red strawberries that with one bite released the most intensely tart-sweet juice (it's jam making time), more tall stalks of purple and green asparagus, and the crispiest, crunchiest sugar snap peas I have ever tasted.  

With the temperature on the rise I see lots of sugar snap pea salads in my future (sliced thin with a spicy chili oil dressing) followed by bowls of strawberries macerated in bourbon smoked sugar and topped with barely sweetened whipped cream.  Recipes coming...

brunch at the dutch and more thoughts on subway tile.

They boy and I ate brunch at The Dutch this past weekend.  I've had it on my list for a while now as I adore Locanda Verde but it took a long lazy Memorial Day weekend to come a long for me to finally make a reservation.  The brunch was as I expected - wonderfully delicious especially my roast turkey sandwich which sounds probably incredibly boring but this one was done so well that it was rather extraordinary (creamy avocado and a green aioli stole my heart). (The boy in typical brunch fashion ate french toast.  He always eats french toast.)  The best part of the meal was the honey shoofly pie with green apple ice cream that I have become obsessed with.  So obsessed with that I have tweeted the pastry chef there to see if she will share the secrets.  Sadly I have gotten no response.  She clearly knows to hide a good thing.  

The restaurant shares my love of subway tire.  I've mentioned before my love of off centered tiles but the tiles at The Dutch were different.  It wasn't floor to ceiling white or even tiles of the same shape.  There was some white and some a blue that looked almost black.  Some were large and some were small.  It was cohesive yet intriguing and unique.  It made me think that things don't always need to be symmetrical and perfect.  That perfection can lie somewhere in the realm of imperfection (or maybe just in the eye of the beholder).  

The rest of the restaurant was filled with leather banquets, the kind of French napkins I am eternally searching for but have convinced myself don't exist outside the realm of cute rustic restaurants, butcher block tables, and mismatched photos.  It was basically what I envision my dream kitchen to look like complete with large windows that look out on to a beautiful tree-lined street.  A girl can dream.  Or a girl can go onto Pinterest and try and find more kitchens that steal her heart because she likes to look at inspiration.  This picture is the one I keep going back to.  So chic.  

Image via Pinterest.  

oatmeal pecan cherry chocolate chunk cookies.

With the unofficial arrival of summer, I've found myself in the kitchen a lot this past weekend, whipping up batches of cookies and dishes of fruit crumble.  I'm one of those people that if you invite me to your home or over for a BBQ or to spend the weekend with you at your awesome beach house that you can pretty much guarantee I will show up with a large container of sweets.  It's my way of expressing gratitude and my way of (hopefully) ensuring I always get asked back.  I have recipes for cookies I can whip up in my sleep, recipes that have never ever done me wrong, recipes that I can throw any random dried fruit or chunk of chocolate into and I will always end up with something satisfying which is exactly why I love this recipe.  This is the kind of cookie that makes you nostalgic for childhood and the lunches your Mom would pack for you as you headed off to camp.  It reminds me of beaches and pools and the scent of sunscreen.  It reminds me of summer and the treasures one can find in the cooler after an afternoon of swimming.  This cookie is soft and tender with wonderfully crispy edges and a soft chewy interior.  While it's perfect with just the oats, pecans and chocolate chunks, I find that the addition of the dried cherries is what takes these cookies from good to wonderful.  The cherries add a level of tartness that balances out all the other components and also makes them a little more interesting and a little more special.  And special is always good when you are showing up with gifts.  

Oatmeal Pecan Cherry Chocolate Chunk Cookies
Recipe from Martha Stewart but adapted with the dried cherries from Dinah Baken

Makes about 30 4-inch cookies 

This recipe is as adaptable as can be.  I've thrown pretty much anything and everything into these cookies including toffee bits, raisins, and walnuts.  As long as you keep the ratio the same you can add in whatever you want.  This dough also freezes rather well so I love to make a batch, form them into balls, and throw them in the freezer to bake up as needed (or to eat raw straight from the freezer which I have no shame in admitting I've done before.  Numerous times.).  You can also halve it easily but that would be a foolish thing to do.  

2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda 
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 cup light brown sugar
1 cup granulated sugar
1 tablespoon pure vanilla extract
3 tablespoons milk
2 large eggs
3 cups old-fashioned oats
12 ounces semi-sweet or bittersweet chocolate chips or a bar cut into chunks
1 1/3 cups (5 ounces) toasted pecans, coarsely chopped 
3/4 cup dried cherries

In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, salt, baking powder, and baking soda. Set dry ingredients aside.

In the bowl of an electric mixer, combine butter with both sugars; beat until light and fluffy. Add vanilla, milk, and eggs; mix well. Add reserved dry ingredients, and beat until just combined. Remove bowl from mixer, and fold in oats, chocolate, pecans, and cherries. Place dough in the refrigerator until firm, at least 2 hours or overnight.

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper, and set aside. Remove dough from refrigerator. Using an ice-cream scoop, shape into 2-inch-diameter balls. Place six balls on each baking sheet, spaced 4 inches apart.

Transfer to oven. Bake until golden, but still soft in center, 15 to 16 minutes. Remove from oven, and place on a wire rack to cool completely. Repeat with remaining dough. Store in an airtight container up to 2 days.

buttermilk fried chicken.

I've developed a strong affinity as of late to overalls.  I don't own a pair at the current moment and I haven't owned a pair since I was about 15 and thought light-washed Gap overalls with pastel polo shirts was the way to win a boy's heart (clearly there was a reason why I never won any boy's hearts).  Now I keep yearning to find a pair that will exude the cool girl French look that I spend most days pining for.  Instead, every pair I've tried on as of late exudes a Southern farmer look which isn't necessarily bad it just isn't quite the look I'm going for.  I finally admitted to myself this past week that overalls and I aren't meant to be in that cool way I want them to be and that maybe it's time to embrace the Southern look so I went home that day and made fried chicken.  I have forever had this vision that in the South you eat fried chicken and biscuits and drink ice cold glasses of sweet tea at least once a week.  Maybe it's just that I want to think I would be required to eat fried chicken once a week if I ever head south of the Mason-Dixon line and if this is not the case please don't tell me otherwise.  (I like to think my imagination is always accurate.)  I have a soft spot for fried chicken since in my mind its the quintessential summer dish and now that we have arrived at the unofficial start of Summer (even if the weather didn't yet get that memo) it means that its time to eat cold fried chicken on a blanket in the park.  

The internet is filled with more fried chicken recipes then I could ever count.  I am sure there are some other super good ones out there, but for me the perfect fried chicken recipe comes from Thomas Keller's cookbook Ad Hoc.  Mr. Keller is a perfectionist.  He is one of those people that actually has the patience and foresight to lay out all his ingredients before he sets to work on a recipe.  (He is one of those people who would probably faint if he ever saw me cooking.)  His fried chicken recipe is unbelievable particular and precise  Normally recipes like this make me want to run away but the end result is so damm good that I continuously go back to it time and time again.  The chicken is moist and flavorful   The crust is a most gorgeous golden brown.  It's crunchy and spicy and absolutely perfect.  It's the kind of thing I imagine myself eating all summer long ideally in a pair of overalls.   

Buttermilk Fried Chicken 
Recipe from Ad Hoc by Thomas Keller

This chicken involves a little bit of planning which for someone like me who is super impulsive finds slightly annoying but none the less I try and tell myself this recipe teaches me patience.  The brine should be made the night before you want to make the chicken.  Cool the brine in the fridge overnight and then place the chicken in the brine the next day.  After that the whole thing is as easy as can be.  You can also halve the below if you are only serving 2 people and make 1 bird.
Two 2 1/2- to 3-pound chickens (you can find the smaller sized birds at the farmers markets ) .  You can use normal sized birds from the supermarket but it will take a little longer to cook the pieces. 

For dredging and frying

Peanut or canola oil for deep-frying
1 quart buttermilk
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

For coating

6 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 cup garlic powder
1/4 cup onion powder
1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon paprika
1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon cayenne
1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Ground fleur de sel or fine sea salt
Rosemary and thyme sprigs for garnish

For the chicken brine

5 lemons, halved
24 bay leaves
1 bunch (4 ounces) flat-leaf parsley
1 bunch (1 ounce) thyme
1/2 cup clover honey
1 head garlic, halved through the equator
3/4 cup black peppercorns2 cups (10 ounces) kosher salt, preferably Diamond Crystal
2 gallons water

For the brine: (makes 2 gallons) The key ingredient here is the lemon, which goes wonderfully with chicken, as do the herbs: bay leaf, parsley and thyme. This amount of brine will be enough for 10 pounds.

Combine all the ingredients in a large pot, cover, and bring to a boil. Boil for 1 minute, stirring to dissolve the salt. Remove from the heat and cool completely, then chill before using. The brine can be refrigerated for up to 3 days.           

For the chicken: Cut each chicken into 10 pieces: 2 legs, 2 thighs, 4 breast quarters, and 2 wings. Pour the brine into a container large enough to hold the chicken pieces, add in the chicken, and refrigerate for 12 hours (no longer, or the chicken may become too salty).

Remove the chicken from the brine (discard the brine) and rinse under cold water, removing any herbs or spices sticking to the skin. Pat dry with paper towels, or let air-dry. Let rest at room temperature for 1 1/2 hours, or until it comes to room temperature.

If you have two large pots (about 6 inches deep) and a lot of oil, you can cook the dark and white meat at the same time; if not, cook the dark meat first, then turn up the heat and cook the white meat. No matter what size pot you have, the oil should not come more than one-third of the way up the sides of the pot. Fill the pot with at least 2 inches of peanut oil and heat to 320 degrees F. Set a cooling rack over a baking sheet. Line a second baking sheet with parchment paper.

Meanwhile, combine all the coating ingredients in a large bowl. Transfer half the coating to a second large bowl. Pour the buttermilk into a third bowl and season with salt and pepper. Set up a dipping station: the chicken pieces, one bowl of coating, the bowl of buttermilk, the second bowl of coating, and the parchment-lined baking sheet.

Just before frying, dip the chicken thighs into the first bowl of coating, turning to coat and patting off the excess; dip them into the buttermilk, allowing the excess to run back into the bowl; then dip them into the second bowl of coating. Transfer to the parchment-lined pan.

Carefully lower the thighs into the hot oil. Adjust the heat as necessary to return the oil to the proper temperature. Fry for 2 minutes, then carefully move the chicken pieces around in the oil and continue to fry, monitoring the oil temperature and turning the pieces as necessary for even cooking, for 11 to 12 minutes, until the chicken is a deep golden brown, cooked through, and very crisp. Meanwhile, coat the chicken drumsticks and transfer to the parchment-lined baking sheet.

Transfer the cooked thighs to the cooling rack skin-side-up and let rest while you fry the remaining chicken. (Putting the pieces skin-side-up will allow excess fat to drain, whereas leaving them skin-side-down could trap some of the fat.) Make sure that the oil is at the correct temperature, and cook the chicken drumsticks. When the drumsticks are done, lean them meat-side-up against the thighs to drain, then sprinkle the chicken with fine sea salt.

Turn up the heat and heat the oil to 340 degrees F. Meanwhile, coat the chicken breasts and wings. Carefully lower the chicken breasts into the hot oil and fry for 7 minutes, or until golden brown, cooked through, and crisp. Transfer to the rack, sprinkle with salt, and turn skin side up. Cook the wings for 6 minutes, or until golden brown and cooked through. Transfer the wings to the rack and turn off the heat.

Arrange the chicken on a serving platter. Add the herb sprigs to the oil (which will still be hot) and let them cook and crisp for a few seconds, then arrange them over the chicken.

Note: We let the chicken rest for 7 to 10 minutes after it comes out of the fryer so that it has a chance to cool down. If the chicken has rested for longer than 10 minutes, put the tray of chicken in a 400°F oven for a minute or two to ensure that the crust is crisp and the chicken is hot.