End all, be all banana bread

It's not like I haven't made banana bread before—and I've tried my hand, too, at a unique Vietnamese (or Japanese) banana cake. But now that I've found this recipe, I'm not sure I'll ever go to a different one.

Not only does it bake up a wonderfully moist loaf of banana bread, the recipe is based on ingredients that I usually have on hand: oil, flour, sugar, salt, baking soda, vanilla extract. As long as I have bananas and enough eggs—and typically I do—I can whip up a loaf or two without having to leave the house. The only tricky ingredient is the crème fraîche, but I've subbed in plain yogurt, vanilla yogurt, or milk on different occasions and the banana bread still bakes up beautifully. Taking after my dad, I usually cut down the amount of sugar in the recipe, and a few extra bananas never seems to hurt the loaves any, either.

Instead of walnuts, I've been adding in toffee bits that I purchased from Vern's Toffee before I left Fort Collins. The broken almond toffee kind of melts into the crumb, lending an overall richness and nuttiness to the banana bread rather than asserting itself in large chunks. The bits make a fine topping for muffins, too.

Banana Bread
adapted from Flour Bakery
yields 2 loaves or 24 medium-sized muffins

3 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 large eggs at room temperature for 30 minutes
2 1/3 cups sugar [I typically cut this down to 1 3/4 cups]
1 cup vegetable oil [I typically cut this down to 3/4 cup]
3 cups coarsely mashed very ripe bananas [6 large, or more]
1/4 cup crème fraîche [I sub in plain yogurt; if using sweetened vanilla yogurt, I cut down the sugar by another few teaspoons]
2 teaspoons vanilla
1 1/3 cups walnuts (4 ounces), toasted and chopped [or, 1 1/2 cups toffee bits, chocolate chips, etc.]

Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter and flour 2 (9- by 5- by 3-inch) metal loaf pans, or line several muffin tins with paper liners.

Sift together 3 1/4 cups flour, baking soda, cinnamon, and salt into a bowl.

Beat together eggs and sugar in bowl of electric mixer at medium-high speed until very thick and pale and mixture forms a ribbon when beater is lifted, about 10 minutes. Reduce speed to low and add oil in a slow stream, mixing, then mix in bananas, crème fraîche or yogurt, and vanilla. Remove bowl from mixer and fold in flour mixture and walnuts, toffee bits, or chocolate chips gently but thoroughly.

Divide batter between loaf pans, spreading evenly, and bake in middle of oven until golden brown and a wooden pick or skewer comes out clean, 1 to 1 1/4 hours. If baking as muffins, bake about 15–20 minutes.

Cool loaves (or muffins) in pans on a rack 10 minutes, then turn out onto rack. Turn right side up and cool completely.

"Visions of France at La Creperie"

Click here to read my review of La Creperie in Fort Collins, CO!

Beer garden grub at Studio Square

For better or worse, the new beer garden Studio Square has grown immensely in popularity, drawing patrons from all corners of the city to its location in Long Island City/Astoria, Queens. On any given night the place is packed with a surprisingly diverse crowd, and maybe the menu is a reflection of its clientele—you can get a bratwurst with sauerkraut, a pulled pork sandwich, a portobello mushroom "burger," or skewers of chicken souvlaki, among others; you can also order sashimi or maki from the sushi menu. At the condiment bar, giant barrels of spicy brown mustard, sweet-hot mustard, and honey mustard sit alongside packets of soy sauce and wasabi.

When there with MH a week or so ago the idea of chowing down on a spicy tuna roll while swilling Hoffbrau Dunkel didn't sit quite right with me, but eating chicken tenders, fries, and a giant soft pretzel did. The chicken tenders tasted like giant McNuggets, but the fries were perfectly adequate, as was the hot, fresh pretzel, which was delicious at least until it cooled down. Best to consume those quickly.

Brooklyn wanderings: Grimaldi's, Almondine, and Brooklyn Flea

Look closely. See that woman down by the orange traffic cone, climbing down into a manhole in the middle of the intersection? A few minutes later, I was doing the same thing.

There's an explanation for why, but I'll get to that in a moment.

First, there was beef cheung fun from a cart at Hester and Elizabeth, which TL and I had that morning for breakfast in Chinatown. The woman topped the steamed rice noodles with soy sauce, sesame seeds, and a thin peanut sauce, which added necessary flavor since the meat portion was decidedly skimpy. This version was a quarter cheaper and pretty good, but in the end I'd rather have the prepared-to-order cheung fun from Corner 28.

After breakfast we went to Pell Street so that TL could get a haircut. And then we made our way from Chinatown to Atlantic Avenue and Court Street in Brooklyn, where we stood in the pouring rain for about half an hour…

…waiting to climb down into a manhole…

…and into a centuries-old abandoned tunnel running under the streets of Brooklyn. Built in 1844 and sealed less than a decade later, the whereabouts of the Atlantic Avenue tunnel remained a mystery until nineteen-year-old Bob Diamond finally located it in 1981 and worked to open it up again to visitors. Go here to reserve a spot on the tour and you can hear Diamond tell his tale yourself.

I was reluctant to leave the cool, dark tunnel for the humid sidewalks aboveground, but luckily by the time we finally surfaced, the rain had ended and the sun had come out. TL and I decided to walk along the promenade to catch the end of Brooklyn Flea. By the time we arrived, though, there were only a few vendors left in the market and only one was still selling any food. I picked up an almond croissant and a brioche to eat later.

But there was still the matter of lunch—after having only eaten cheung fun seven hours earlier, TL and I were famished. What to do?

I was thrilled when I saw that there was no line outside of Grimaldi's. We sat down and quickly asked for a pizza topped with sausage, ricotta, and extra basil. Our hunger is my only explanation for what compelled us to order a large for the two of us instead of a small…both of us tried to finish the entire pie, but midway through our third slices we knew it'd be impossible to go on. It had been a long time since I'd last had really good pizza, and I dearly wanted to. I'm not sure how Grimaldi's compares to all the other coal/wood oven pizzas being served around town—I haven't tried enough of them to know—but whatever the case, I found this pie totally satisfying.

Stuffed to the gills with pizza, TL and I headed back to Astoria. It wasn't until about 10pm that either of us felt hungry again. Luckily we had the leftover pizza and Brooklyn Flea pastries to sate our bellies. The croissant was quite good—just sweet enough, and the paste had a wonderful nutty flavor—but the brioche seemed a bit dry.

I had also picked up three macarons from Almondine, which had gotten a bit smashed on the journey home. At a dollar each, they were cheaper than most macarons but also quite a bit smaller. Happily, what they lacked in size was more than accounted for in flavor; both the lemon and passionfruit curds sandwiched between the almond paste cookies were bright and tart, tasting intensely of their respective fruit. The pistachio was less impressive but still tasty.

Between the pizza, the croissant, the brioche, the cheung fun, and the macarons, it was a totally satisfying eating day, but being able to go down a manhole into an abandoned tunnel was totally the icing on the cake. I should hang out like this more often.

Having a Winegasm

Back in NYC! The evening after I arrived, TL and I went to Winegasm, a sweet little wine bar in Astoria. He'd been there before and was a fan of its laid-back, mellow ambiance and welcoming vibe; I was happy to have a place to relax and chat.

TL was hungry, so we ordered a panini and a dessert to share. At eight bucks, the chicken version wasn't a bad deal: the hot, pressed sandwich was layered with chunks of chicken breast, a soft, gooey cheese (Swiss?) and paired with roasted red peppers, red onion, spinach, and a basil-laced mayonnaise. A perfectly dressed salad of tender mixed greens arrived on the side. The chocolate molten cake was good but typical; no complaints here except maybe about the price, which was only a dollar less than the panini.

We showed up near closing time so didn't stay for too long, but I could see myself spending a much longer evening here, sipping on wine and grazing on some of their lighter fare. Winegasm might have a cheesy name, but it still seems like a good spot in the neighborhood.

CSA, Week Seven: Two doughs, four flatbreads

We've been getting herbs nearly every week in our CSA share, and even though I am splitting a single share with four other people, the big fresh bundles of dill, parsley, and cilantro were piling up in my refrigerator. I'd been storing them covered in a plastic bag with their cut stems submerged in a cup of water; while after a few weeks most had fared well, I was worried I wouldn't get around to using them before they rotted. I knew that adding a sprinkle of chopped dill or cilantro to dishes here and there wouldn't cut it. I started looking for recipes that would use up a lot at once, and that's where the idea of making herbed flatbreads came in.

My first experiment was to attempt a replication of the roasted garlic and parsley flatbread JL had served for our sockeye salmon feast, but since she hadn't posted a recipe for it on FoodMayhem, I was left to figure one out on my own.

Luckily, Colorado Review editor SG had recently given me a stack of old Cooking Light, Gourmet, and Bon Appetite magazines. While flipping through the August 2006 issue of Cooking Light I came upon a recipe for Bell Pepper Focaccia, and the base seemed good for what I was envisioning. I swapped out the bell pepper topping for mashed roasted garlic and finely chopped curly parsley, which I mixed together with olive oil and salt to form a loose paste; then I spread this paste over the risen focaccia dough and put it in the oven to bake for 28 minutes, as the Cooking Light recipe directed.

Unfortunately, 28 minutes was way too long. When I opened the oven door, I was dismayed to find dried-out herbs atop a tough, dark brown crust. It was far from the focaccia of my dreams, though the flavor of the roasted garlic and parsley tasted spot-on.

So I tried the focaccia again, this time with a topping of finely chopped cilantro and minced garlic, also mixed with olive oil and salt to form a loose paste. This time, I only baked the focaccia for fifteen minutes, and it was perfect. The slight sweetness of the fluffy dough combined with the cilantro, garlic, and salt was positively addictive. (Recipe at bottom!)

After that success I probably would have kept on going with focaccia, but then KS, who works at Cozzola's, bestowed upon me a large bag of leftover pizza dough. I wasn't sure how to work with the stuff so I just winged it: I rolled out the dough and topped it with layers of chopped up roasted cauliflower and broccoli (also from the CSA) and grated Monterey Jack cheese, then baked it in the oven at 400 degrees for about twenty minutes or half an hour. This combination proved delicious, but I should have let the dough rise for a bit before topping and baking—the crust was tough and almost cracker-like in the thinnest areas.

I wasn't going to try making another bread at that point, especially because I was leaving for NYC in just a few days, but then I realized I had a nearly full container of cottage cheese in the fridge that I had mixed with lemon juice and chopped CSA dill. (I'd done this with whipped cottage cheese before and had been delighted with its dip-like properties, but done with small-curd cottage cheese, the dip seemed to lose its charm. So I'd ignored it for a while.) I figured if I spread the mixture on top of pizza dough and baked it, it would be another decent flatbread of sorts and I'd want to scarf it down.

Unfortunately it didn't come out quite as I envisioned it, and the flavor was just okay. I ended up sticking most of it in the freezer, where it will probably languish some more. I'll have to work with this idea again.

As for other CSA recipes, I only made a few new things: a salad combining chopped cherry tomatoes and CSA fresh raw peas with lime juice, olive oil, salt, and pepper; and a minimalist version of my "very merry broccoli salad," meaning chopped up broccoli, a dressing of half mayonnaise and half nonfat plain yogurt, and a few spoonfuls of cranberry chutney.

Oh, and French breakfast radishes? I know it sounds weird, but they are delicious when eaten sliced up on top of pita chips (specifically the Stacy's brand, which I am addicted to). Something about the toasty, salty, hearty crunch of the pita chips paired with the spicy, fresh crispness of the radishes just really works for me.

As always, if you have any suggestions for veggie preparations, I'd love to hear them. Hope everyone is doing well with their CSA bounty!

Cilantro-Garlic Focaccia
by Soopling

Dough
1 package dry yeast (about 2.5 teaspoons)
1 cup warm water (100 degrees to 110 degrees)
1 tablespoon honey
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 3/4 cups all purpose flour, divided (about 12.5 ounces)

Topping
1 cup finely chopped cilantro (about 1 bundle)
4 cloves minced raw garlic
1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil
3/4 teaspoon salt

To prepare dough, dissolve yeast in warm water in a large bowl, followed by honey and salt. Stir until well blended. Stir in 2 1/2 cups flour to form a dough and turn out onto a floured surface. Knead about 10 minutes, or until smooth and elastic; as you knead, add enough of remaining 1/4 cup flour, 1 tablespoon at a time, to prevent dough from sticking to hands. The dough will still be a bit sticky when it's ready.

Place dough in a large bowl coated with oil, turning to coat top. Cover and let rise in a warm place free from drafts for about 45 minutes or until doubled in size. (It's done rising when an indentation remains in the dough after you've gently pressed a finger into it.) Punch dough down, and turn out onto an oiled jelly-roll pan or cookie sheet; press into an 10x8-inch rectangle. Cover and let rise 30 minutes or until doubled in size.

In the meanwhile, preheat oven to 400 degrees. Make the topping: mix the cilantro, garlic, olive oil, and salt together and let sit until dough is ready.

Uncover dough and make indentations in top of dough using your fingertips. Using a spoon or your fingers, evenly spread the cilantro topping over the dough.

Bake at 400 degrees for 15 minutes or until loaf is golden brown around edges and sounds hollow when tapped.

Yield: 8 servings

Green Tea and Chocolate Swirl Cake: A treat in green and black

For KS's birthday I wanted to bake something fun, and it seemed like that "something" should be less wholesome than banana blueberry bread or lemon-blueberry yogurt cake. So of course chocolate came to mind…and when I looked through my list of bookmarked recipes, I found Bakerella's chocolate matcha bundt cake.

Which was perfect, because the last time I'd gone home to NYC I'd spotted this packet of green tea powder in my parents' pantry. My mom had made a face when I'd asked her about it, saying she had tried to brew a cup but had found the tea way too bitter. I was happy to take the powder off her hands, knowing that once back in Colorado I'd be using it to bake green tea cakes and green tea cookies.

Bakerella's recipe seemed a bit rich to me: there were three cups of sugar and a full cup of butter for only three cups of flour (looks like I've become my dad, after all). So I decided to make some adjustments, both to work with what ingredients I had (no milk, for instance) and to make it a bit healthier. I cut the sugar by a third, cut the butter by a quarter, and substituted 1 cup of plain nonfat yogurt and 1 1/4 cups of water for the 1 3/4 cups of milk her recipe called for.

The cake still ended up tasting rich, sweet, and moist, though with what seemed like a slightly coarser crumb from Bakerella's (maybe from the yogurt? I've noticed that all the yogurt cakes I've baked have shared a similar texture). I had planned only to make some cupcakes, but there was so much batter in the recipe that I had enough for a loaf cake too.

I really loved this cake—not only was it beautiful with its swirls of light and dark batter, but the slight, grassy bitterness of the tea played nicely against the sweet dark chocolate. I'll have to try this one again!

Green Tea and Chocolate Swirl Cake
by Soopling, adapted from Bakerella

Chocolate mixture
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup cocoa
1 1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt

Green tea mixture
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2–3 tbsp matcha powder
1 1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp salt

Wet mixture
2 cups sugar
3/4 cup salted butter, at room temperature
3 eggs, at room temperature
1 cup plain nonfat yogurt, at room temperature
1 1/4 cups water, at room temperature
1 tsp vanilla

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees. Butter and flour a 9-inch loaf pan and prepare 12 cupcake liners in a tin (there will be enough batter for both). You can also bake the full amount of batter in a 12-cup bundt pan.

Whisk the dry ingredients for the chocolate mixture in a bowl and set aside. In another bowl, do the same for the green tea mixture.

Using an electric mixer, cream the butter and sugar until white and fluffy. Add the eggs, yogurt, water, and vanilla. Mix until thoroughly combined.

Evenly divide the wet mixture in two separate bowls. Slowly add the chocolate mixture to one half of the wet mixture and mix thoroughly to make a chocolate batter. Add the green tea mixture to the other half of the wet mixture and mix thoroughly to make a green tea batter.

Drop alternating spoonfuls of each batter into cupcake liners, loaf pan, or bundt pan until they are about 3/4 full. You can use a knife to marble the two batters; just run it through the batters a few times after you've poured them both in.

Bake cupcakes for 20–25 minutes, loaf cake for 45 minutes to 1 hour, or bundt cake for 1 hour and 15 minutes. The cake/cakes will be done when a toothpick inserted into the middle comes out clean.

A brownie, coffee, and a cricket at Cafe Ardour

I don't know why I hadn't stepped into Cafe Ardour sooner—it's one of the cutest coffee shops in Fort Collins (that I've hung out in, anyway). There is a kind of homey charm to the place, highlighted by the rustic wooden tables and tall plants nestled by the windows, the local artwork on the walls, and the dreamy 1940s French music playing softly in the background.

Using a Be Local coupon, I purchased a brownie and received a 12 oz. mug of coffee for free. I didn't think the brownie would be anything special, but once I took a bite, I discovered that the brownie wasn't just good, but excellent. It had a moist, fudgy texture and a fabulous buttery flavor behind the sweet chocolate. When KS saw the leftover piece of brownie sitting on my dining table that evening (I forced myself to eat only half, and gave her the other) and learned that it was from Cafe Ardour, she told me that she has a coworker who buys and eats one of these brownies every single day. I can totally see why.

As I sat in Cafe Ardour for the next hour or two typing up an article, I was joined by this cricket, who hopped between my table and the plant in the corner several times before disappearing. If he had tried to land on my brownie, I would have had to chase him away, but lucky for him he left the sweets for me.

Sock(eye salmon) to me

Hyuck, hyuck. Forgive my terrible post title, but I couldn't resist—the special package TL and I had to drop off with JL were the two packages of wild-caught smoked salmon and two whole wild sockeye salmon (sans their heads) that he had brought back frozen from Vancouver. I don't know how I ended up with so many friends willing to haul seafood back from their hometowns to share, but I consider myself a lucky gal.

We cooked one fish that night (reserving the other one for LB and TL to experiment with the next night). Here it is before…

…and after! JL had stuffed the fish with lemon and parsley and put it briefly on the grill. Due to a grill-sticking issue the salmon was a little less pretty by the time it got to the table, but it was no less delicious. The lean flesh was tender and had a clean, sweet flavor. You can't really tell from this photo, but its color was beautiful too—a deep bright red many shades apart from the typical pale orange of farmed salmon.

Photo (left) by TL

We ate the fish with a variety of condiments and did a lot of experimenting to find the best flavor combinations. I think all of us have a habit of "cooking at the table" (which is something someone once noted about my brother): we made open-faced sandwiches with roasted garlic and parsley flatbread; laid chunks of the salmon on top of salad; ate pieces of salmon paired with grilled shishito peppers or pickled chioggia beets; and scraped the meat from the spine to make an impromptu spicy salmon mixture using mayonnaise and sriracha. With four pounds of fish on the table there was plenty of room to play.

For dessert, we had blueberry-almond financiers baked by JL. She wasn't that into the pastries, but I liked their gentle sweetness and texture, especially alongside mugs of hot tea.

The next morning I flew back to Colorado with a wedge of leftover flatbread in my bag, which I ate for breakfast at the terminal—a fragrant, tasty reminder of a fun meal.

Brought to you by the letter B: Blueberry Banana Bread

Hey! Remember my issue with flat baked goods? I have no idea how I achieved this one, but I managed to bake a loaf of banana-blueberry bread that rose up beautifully. I almost didn't want to cut into it, lest it should somehow deflate.

I used a recipe somewhat modified from Dozen Flour's, cutting down the sugar, adding more flour, adding some milk, using one less banana (because I only had two), and throwing in blueberries. As with the lemon-blueberry yogurt loaf, I also sprinkled pearl sugar on top, which I am liking more and more as a cake/muffin topping. It's pretty, it adds texture and sweetness, and it's not messy like frosting or powdered sugar. The sugar does lose some of its crunch as it gradually melts into the baked loaf and pulls moisture from the air, but that only happens after the cake has been around for a few days. If you're sharing this loaf with other people, the sugar melting won't be a problem.

Blueberry Banana Bread
by Soopling

1/2 cup salted butter, softened
3/4 cup sugar
2 eggs, at room temperature
2 bananas, very ripe and mashed or cut into chunks
1/2 cup skim milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon Kosher salt
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup blueberries (you can increase this amount, but that was all I had)
1/4 cup pearl sugar (optional)

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Butter and flour a 9-inch loaf pan.

Using an electric mixer, cream the butter and sugar in a large bowl until the mixture is fluffy. Add the eggs, bananas, milk, and vanilla extract and mix until combined. It's okay if the batter is a little lumpy from the banana.

Whisk together the baking soda, salt, and flour in another bowl and then add to the wet batter. Mix on low speed, scraping the sides of the bowl as needed, until the dry ingredients are incorporated. Toss the blueberries in about a tablespoon of flour, and then gently fold them into the batter.

Pour the batter into the prepared loaf pan and sprinkle pearl sugar on top. Bake for 15 minutes. Reduce the temperature to 350 degrees and bake for another 45 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center of the loaf comes out clean.

Remove from pan and place on a rack to cool.

Blueberry-yogurt somethingcakes

Sometimes, I have no idea what the difference is between a muffin, a cake, and a cupcake. Sure, there are basic concepts—a cupcake has frosting, a muffin is less sweet, and a cake is, well, bigger than the both of them. But what about when I'm baking cake batter in a loaf pan, and I have too much batter, and I pour the rest into cupcake/muffin liners? I don't whip up a frosting for the little guys, which makes them look like muffins. But they're sweeter than muffins, and made with the exact same ingredients as the thing I'm calling cake (or a loaf). So what should I name these? Cupfins? Mufcakes? Cakefins?

For these blueberry-yogurt (blanks) I used Smitten Kitchen's recipe (note: she's calling hers a cake), and it yielded one moist, dense loaf and twelve slightly flat (blanks). For both varieties I sprinkled the surface batter with pearl sugar before baking, which lent the tops an awesome sweet crunch.

By the way, why can't I get my baked goods to rise properly? Every time I've baked muffins/cupcakes, they spread out instead of rise. Bakers, what am I doing wrong?

I brought the loaf to a birthday celebration later that evening, but felt sort of like I was offering a breakfast item for dinner. Cake, muffin, loaf, cupcake…I give up. Whatever it was that I baked it tasted good, and that's all that matters.

Changing up chefs in the family kitchen

The night before I flew back to Colorado, my family and I gathered around the dining table for a vast home-cooked meal. Unlike other feasts that were primarily created by my mom, this time my brother did most of the cooking, coming up with seven or eight dishes by himself over the course of an afternoon. On the table were fried pork chops; a stir-fry of shrimp, carrots, and celery; marinated burdock root; stewed lotus root; sauteed snow peas; braised tofu; and sauteed Taiwanese cabbage. We ate everything atop bowls of my dad's multigrain "rice," and it was a meal that tasted all the better from my older sibling's touch.

The next morning, I pulled out several batches of homemade bagels from the oven—I had kneaded and shaped the dough the night before, and gotten up early in order to boil, top, and bake them in time for breakfast with the fam. I'd also picked up some smoked fish at a tiny Russian grocery next to my bus stop the day before, and that on the bagels along with some veggie cream cheese and lettuce picked from the garden meant we were truly dining in style. There was only so much time to linger over the meal though—I had a plane to catch, my dad had an exercise class to lead in the park, and my brother had to go back to his apartment. In other words, it was time for my brother and I to remove our chef hats and return the kitchen to our folks.