Whisked Away

Mostly, I find myself alone in the kitchen except for the occasional passerby foraging for snacks. So when someone wants to jump into the fray, by all means, I say put on an apron and let's get down to it. If children grow up with an appreciation for home cooked foods made from scratch, they are that much more likely to eat well once they start cooking for themselves. Or better yet, once they start cooking for me!

Little Helpers

The enthusiasm that Claire and Jack have for cooking is such a delight to see. We all know the ulterior motive -- who gets to lick the beater -- but their eagerness to participate in kitchen alchemy renews my own faith that there's simply something magic about cooking for the ones you love...

Let's Bake

The kids are so lucky to have Leslie with them in the kitchen once a week: they love to get into the act and they always whip up something special. Jack particularly loved being assigned the task of smashing nuts with a mallet. Cooking can be fun!

Tagines and Tangerines

The other day I bought David Tanis' A Platter of Figs with the intention of cooking my way through the winter menus in this beautiful cookbook, starting with North African Comfort Food. It begins with Carrot and Coriander Salad, then Chicken Tagine with Pumpkin and Chickpeas, followed by Walnut Cigars for dessert. I was inspired by the smart and funny Tipsy Baker, who's currently cooking out of the same book.

After hours of chopping, boiling, toasting and baking, the results were remarkably bland and disappointing. I would have thought this was due to some gross error on my part, but Tipsy had the same results. How, we wondered, could this book get such rave reviews? Maybe the sycophants were cooking at a better time of year...

The author recommends "presenting tangerines in a well-worn earthen vessel" and that's about the only part of this meal that turned out as one would have expected. At least the Walnut Cigars were a hit, and elegant, but I don't know that I'd make them again. Now I'm just waiting to see what happens when the Tipsy Baker makes Tanis' Pig's Ear Salad on Wednesday...

Pot Pie, Oh My!

When I asked James what he wanted for dinner last night and he said, "pot pie," I was only too happy to oblige. Back in June I asked John, one the owners of the wonderful Dipsea Cafe, if he would be willing to divulge the recipe for the Dipsea's fabulous Chicken Pot Pie -- it's really the best I've ever tasted! He was so nice about it: not only did he send me the recipe, he tweaked it to a home-sized portion.

At first I thought I was reading it wrong: the recipe for six pot pies calls for almost a pound-and-a-half of butter. That's nearly a stick of butter per pie! I was beginning to understand why their version tastes so darn good...

I sautéed the leeks, carrots, celery and onion in a pan, and Chloé sifted in the flour as soon as the veggies were soft. After that, we added the chicken stock and watched a gorgeous gravy form -- I love food science! I chopped up chicken to mix in with peas and potatoes, while Chloé drifted off to play romantic melodies on the piano.

Claire jumped into the project at that point -- anything to do with pastry is right up her alley. I have to say, I fail miserably in this arena. Always have. Always will, I'm afraid. But Claire rolled up her sleeves and rolled out the sage-infused crust, and the Chanticleer on top was her own idea, a final flourish.

The pies were beautiful, the filling delicious, but my crust didn't achieve the golden perfection of the ones served at the Dipsea. Sadly, pastry is my downfall. Can anyone out there help me get over this problem? Everyone slurped it up, so it wasn't total failure. And if you're pastry proficient, you can indulge yourself with this recipe, posted on Coco's Kitchen. But I have to tell you: next time I get a craving for chicken pot pie, I'm going to the Dipsea Cafe.

The Chocolate Marauder

Jack enjoys dispensing tips on
how to bake a better batter!

(Re:) Introducing Coco's Kitchen

Coco's Kitchen was introduced without fanfare a couple of months ago in the sidebar, but more and more people are wondering where the recipes went; well, here they are. This is our archive of tried-and-true favorites from the family pantry, please visit and let us know what you think. Hope you're hungry!

Fake-a-Cake

After the fun we had with Friday night's birthday cake, Chloé, Wynham and I decided on the spur of the moment to take a "beginning fondant" cake decorating class at Cake Art on Saturday afternoon. Fondant is the smooth covering you usually see on wedding cakes, and it's an amazingly pliable medium; you're only limited by your imagination when it comes to the designs you can make with the stuff.

It's always fun to watch the kids at work in this kind of environment. Even though the teacher's English is barely understandable, Chloé gets it right away and is covering her styrofoam "cake" with perfect precision. Wynham and I stare at each other as we scrape our second, third, and fourth attempts off the table and try again. The teacher gets impatient and comes over to do it for us, which rather defeats the whole purpose.

Coloring the paste for the decorations is time consuming, as you have to knead the colors in by hand, although it's great physical therapy. I don't think we would have chosen these colors or designs, but hey, we're learning something. Wynham's flowers are a marvel of minute detail. I have to admit, I brought him to the class with me because I know I'll need his help on projects that require a steady hand.

Claire is beside herself when we bring our dummies home and she discovers that we can't eat them. James wonders about the futility of our endeavors, but I'm sure he'll enjoy the results when it's his turn and the cake is real. With all the birthdays coming up in the next couple of months, we're going to get plenty of practice...

Book Learnin'

Birthdays are a great excuse for some culinary creativity. My Dad marked the beginning of another year yesterday, and we were lucky enough to celebrate it with him, so I used it as an opportunity to turn another page in my birthday-cake-making book.

Now, everybody has their traditional favorite birthday dinner in our family and you can't mess with that, but as long as the cake is the right flavor, well, anything goes. Since Dad is a writer and we were giving him some reading/writing accessory gifts, I decided to stick with that theme and make a cake that looked like a book. What a novel idea!

It's amazing what you can learn when you get an idea in your head of something you want to do, but have no concept of how to carry it out. Who knew there's a whole culture around edible ink out there? I didn't, until the day before yesterday, but I'm learning quickly. For instance, if you're going to do this kind of thing, you have to have a dedicated printer, or else get someone who does to print your design for you (which is what I did).

I just designed the pages on the home computer and then had them printed on edible rice paper. When you place the paper on your frosted cake, it's supposed to dissolve into the frosting. The piece of paper I had was really thick, so that didn't really happen, but everyone ate it anyway. The cake flavor was a disappointment -- boring chocolate cake with a buttercream that was too sweet -- although the design got rave reviews. I may not make the bestseller list this way, but at least I'm having fun...

Stew Love 4ever

The cold, grey, wet weather has our dutch oven working overtime this season. Nothing says comfort and warmth like a hearty slow-cooked stew, and the one we had for dinner last night must be the mother of them all. I took one bite and the heavens cracked open and a chorus of angels sang "Alleluia!" Okay, maybe I'm the only one who heard the music, but don't call me crazy until you've tried it. I swear, the pot had a glowing halo around it...

My life-long search for Stew Love has come to an end with this recipe from Sunset Magazine, reprinted here on the left (it's so good, they put it on the cover!). When you make three squares for six people every day, the cooking romance can kinda fizzle out. But this dish, Smoky Beef Stew with Bleu Cheese, restores my faith. Never mind that it takes four hours to make and that everyone wolfed it down in fifteen minutes and mostly forgot to say thank you; certain labors are their own reward. Sigh.

Waiting for Gateaux

Some pictures just speak for themselves...

Crêpe Expectations

The Saturday Morning Meal can be quite a production at our house – it’s the only day of the week we have time for a “luxury” breakfast. So when Chloé came home from France with her recipe for Pâte à Crêpes Sucrée, her crêpes immediately made the Saturday Top Ten List. The recipe is simple: roughly 2 cups of milk, 3 eggs, 1 cup of flour, a pinch of salt, and a teaspoon of vanilla-infused sugar (the recipe also calls for 2 tablespoons of rum, but never mind that at breakfast time…).

After you whip up the recipe, things start to get complicated. First, the batter has to sit there for an hour so that the proteins can do something scientific in the bowl, and they like to take their time about it, thank you very much. This is apparently very important to the success of your end result. After that, it’s all about technique. Deft wrist action is needed for spreading out the perfect thinness of the crêpe. Flipping over the crêpe at the perfect moment of doneness without tearing it requires a level of dexterity I certainly never possessed, but Chloé’s got it down.

Since Wynham is about to be crowned King of the Perfect Single Fried Egg, I got all excited about trying my hand at the savory version of the crêpe, made with buckwheat flour. Everything seemed to be going all right until I attempted to fold my crêpe into that just-opened-flower shape that Jaques Pépin makes so effortlessly – mine looked more like a crushed soda can. C’est la vie…

Well, I don’t need to tell you what the kitchen looks like after all this fun, especially with Claire and Jack “helping”. This is a good time to get very philosophical about the merits and methods of house cleaning (I start by closing my eyes and taking deep breaths). So when Wynham asks, just a little plaintively, “Mom, can we please just have buttermilk pancakes for breakfast this Saturday?” I’m quick to respond “Of course!” Flapjacks, I can do.