Time in Taos, Day 2

Catch up here! Time in Taos, Day 1

When ES and I awoke the next morning, we wandered down to the sunny, open patio room of our B&B for breakfast and were greeted with glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice, hot coffee, and a plate of assorted mini muffins and scones.

Jars of wildflower honey, collected from beehives on the premises, graced each table.

While on the side there were cold cereals and milk for the taking, the main attraction of breakfast was this entree of huevos rancheros with bacon. As you can see, pieces of fruit were beautifully arranged all around the edges of the plate, creating a cheerful presentation that set the tone for the rest of the day.

And what a day it was! We went to the Rio Grande Gorge, a breathtaking sight behind the rails of the bridge we stood on. Vendors in the parking lot just before the bridge sold handmade goods as well as local honeys and jams, and I ended up getting some beads and a necklace with a teeny, stone pendant on copper chain (you all know I love jewelry).

We also went to check out Earthship headquarters. "Earthship" refers to a completely sustainable, self-contained home built entirely from recycled and re-purposed materials—for instance, glass bottles embedded into walls provide both light and structural support; electricity and water come solely from sun, rain, snow, and wind; food comes from vegetables and fruit grown on the premises. I'll admit it's a bit kooky, and the buildings do look like a somewhat odder version of something Gaudi might have built, but I admired the devotion to sustainability that Earthship homes demonstrate.


Later, in the tiny little town of Arroyo Seco, we shared a cup of ice cream at the ice cream shop Taos Cow. Ours was half blueberry flavor and half Cherry Ristra: dried cherries, piñon nuts, and chocolate chunks in a rich vanilla base.

The word ristra came up again when we visited Taos Pueblo, a living Native American reservation. Turns out ristra refers to the huge bundles of red chili peppers hanging from the awnings and doorways of the homes we saw all over New Mexico, placed there for both functional and decorative purposes. At the reservation we didn't eat anything with chilis, but we did share a freshly made frybread drizzled with honey, as well as a piece of prune pie.

With all that snacking, it took ES and I a while before we felt hungry, but after going back to our B&B, lying around in the two-person hammock, raking the giant zen garden, and strolling the on-premises labyrinth, it was dinner time. We headed over to La Cueva Cafe, a small, relatively new Mexican restaurant that used to be called Rellenos Cafe. We started off with an order of the Ceviche Mexicano, consisting of lime-marinated fish chunks mixed with pico de gallo, topped with avocado, and paired with chipotle mayonnaise. I'm more familiar with the Peruvian style of ceviche, but I was delighted with the flavor and extra creaminess that the avocado and dipping sauce added to the dish. 'Twas a large bowl of deliciousness, and cheap, too!

Our entrees were less notable, though not bad. I went with the Plato Combinado, consisting of one chile relleno, one enchilada, and one taco all smothered in green chili, while ES went with a two-taco plate.

Once our meal was done, we wandered over to the Adobe Bar at Doc Martin's Restaurant. A live band was playing in the main area, and we managed to snag a small table by the window, close enough to hear the music but far enough so that we could still chat. With eminently sippable margaritas in front of us—classic for ES, pomegranate for me—hanging out in the bar was the perfect wrap-up to a long and busy day in Taos.

Sundayyy, berry sundae

Where can you get this large cup of rich, creamy, frozen vanilla yogurt—swirled with strawberry syrup and topped with several large pieces of whole strawberries—for under two bucks?

Those of you who are bulk shoppers probably already know the answer: the food court of Costco. I've had good experiences with their chocolate and vanilla swirl, too, but the berry sundae is usually the one that wins. Geddit!

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.

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.