We started house-hunting about ten days ago, and at the time I had no idea how all-encompassing it would feel. The market is such in Seattle right now that you don’t really get to think about this very large, immensely important decision for a few days (or even overnight, in some cases); you have to either make an offer right away or move on. And I’m not one to make very big decisions quickly. So there’s been a lot of pacing, and trips to the grocery store for bad (but so good) Easter candy consumed late at night while scanning through new listings online. I’ve had my head down for awhile now and I think somehow during this time, spring has moved right on in. Sure, we had blossoming trees even last month and noticeably more light, but lately the rain is even different: softer and sweeter. And there’s possibility and change in the air.
The photos featured in this post are from my new column over on The Kitchn called But First, Breakfast. I was inspired to write this column largely from some of the feedback from my book, Whole Grain Mornings. So many of you have said you love the book and use it often — but many of the days you crack it open happen to be weekend days. In my cooking classes, the recipes that students seem to respond to most are the accessible recipes that they can easily recreate at home the next day should they choose to. So I got to thinking about how nice it’d be to have a breakfast column that was geared towards doable, inspired morning fare that could either be tackled on an average weekday … or I’d give lots of make-ahead tips and time-saving tricks so it could be prepared over the weekend for the busy days ahead. It will be posted bi-weekly on the weekends with just this in mind.
I think you’re going to like this first recipe for Baklava Breakfast Parfaits. I’ve long felt like baklava is perfectly acceptable morning fare, but I realize not everyone would agree so I set out to create a breakfast parfait that featured many of the flavors of the popular sweet without feeling so desserty. And I have to say, it was a success. One of the components of the recipe is this buttery phyllo topping (below) that we’ve started to call “pie brittle” in our house. You will have a bit leftover which is really good news as I’ve discovered a wide range of delightful culinary uses for it (may I suggest starting by sprinkling it on top of your vanilla ice cream?). I hope you enjoy the column, and look forward to hearing about any recipe successes you have or things you’d love to see featured.
Get the Recipe: Baklava Breakfast Parfait
Beyond this parfait, there so many spring finds around the internet to get excited about:
Coconut Sea Salt Caramel Ice Cream – Minimalist Baker
Breakfast Porridge with Soft Eggs and Pea Shoots – Bon Appetit
Honey Rhubarb Quinoa Cornbread – Edible Perspective
Warm Cauliflower ‘Couscous’ with Green Peas and Herbs – Green Kitchen Stories
Cornmeal Crusted Fish Tacos with Lime Crema – Brooklyn Supper
Lemon Bars with Olive Oil and Sea Salt – Melissa Clark
And as if that weren’t enough, there are a few cookbooks coming out so very soon that I can’t wait to cook from:
My New Roots by Sarah Britton
The Sprouted Kitchen Bowl + Spoon by Sara and Hugh Forte
Simply Ancient Grains by Maria Speck
Hope you’re seeing all the blossoms and light from your windows, too. See you back here soon, friends.
On Monday our little family of three is headed to the airport at 6 am to board our first with-baby cross-country trip. We'll be visiting Sam's family in New Jersey for a few days, then renting a car and driving over to meet up with my family at my mom's lake house in the Adirondacks. Sam's younger sister and her kids have yet to meet Oliver; my grandpa has yet to meet him, and Oliver has yet to take a dunk in a lake, see a firefly, or spend quality time with energetic dogs -- of which there will be three. A lot of firsts. This week my family has been madly texting, volunteering to make certain meals or sweets on assigned days while we're at the cabin and it got me thinking about really simple, effortless summer desserts -- in particular, ones that you can make while staying in a house with an unfamiliar kitchen and unfamiliar equipment and still do a pretty bang-up job. I think fruit crisp is just that thing.
This past week we've had quite a heat wave in Seattle. I've been getting into the bakery early in the mornings so as to avoid the afternoon heat + hot oven combination, and it turns out the upstairs of our new house is quite a little hot box. I bought some aggressive blinds and a new fan and am hoping both will help cool things down a bit. The wool blanket is in the linen closet for the season, and Sam's been making iced tea like it's his job. Summer has arrived! A few nights ago, the thought of actually doing much real cooking seemed a bit overwhelming, so I figured it was time to dig out the ice cream maker and get to work. I'd wanted to do something with the beautiful strawberries we have in the markets right now, but it seems every time I get a little pint it's gone before I have the chance. They are just so incredibly sweet, and it seems a shame to do anything other than eat them right out of the container, preferably while sitting on the Moroccan picnic blanket you brought back from honeymoon on the lawn in your new backyard trying not to stress out about the incredible, insurmountable number of weeds. So. Many. Weeds. But cherries: somehow the bag of cherries made it safely through the weekend, so I set about to find a great cherry ice cream recipe.
When you have an eight month old baby, making social plans can be hard. Especially in the evenings. When I was pregnant, I read Bringing up Bebe and one of the big premises of the book is how the French feel strongly that babies and children can fit into your lives and that you shouldn't have to change and alter everything to accommodate them. I remember reading the book and thinking: YES! Life will be just as it was, except we'll have a small baby in tow. Obviously a few things would likely be different, but I didn't want to change our routines, change the way we cooked or approached time off together, or see our friends any less. Well of course I'm the fool. Or at the very least, I'm not as French as I thought I was. Today, we very much schedule things around Oliver's nap schedule and bedtime, but thankfully we have a lot of other friends with kids who get it. Friends who make homemade cookies, own ice cream businesses, and have really great taste in music. Friends who host the kind of occasion that warrants homemade hot fudge sauce and eating dessert first.
We're back! After a restful few days in Lake George, I ended up flying home while Sam spent a little time with his family in New Jersey and a few days in New York City by himself before taking the train all the way back to Seattle (a solid four day journey). If you know Sam, this isn't surprising; he loves trains. When he's gone, I quickly revert back to my single gal days of eating veggie quesadillas for dinner (over and over) and staying up working later than I'd like. We would talk on the phone often as Sam would narrate his very full days in New York City and the stops and layovers he had while on the train. After a few days of me lamenting the fact that I wasn't there to experience it all with him, he encouraged me to ditch the quesadillas and do something special for dinner. See a movie. Go to the museum for just an hour. In short: I needed to get better at dating myself.
I received The Sprouted Kitchen Bowl + Spoon cookbook in the mail not long before we moved to our new house, and I remember lying in bed and bookmarking pages I was excited to try but also feeling overwhelmed with where to start: the truth is that this summer has been a relatively low-inspiration / low energy time in the kitchen for me. I'd been chalking it up to pregnancy but when I think back and if I'm honest with myself, my cooking style tends to be very easy and produce-driven during these warmer months. I rarely break out complicated recipes, instead relying on fresh tomatoes and corn or zucchini and homemade pesto to guide me. But last night I cracked open Sara's book and pulled out a few peaches I've had sitting on the counter, fearing their season may be nearing its end. This morning as I was making coffee, I sliced up the peaches, toasted the pecans and churned away -- having a bite (or maybe two) before getting it into the freezer to firm up.