Archive for March, 2010

Bacon with fresh rosemary sprigs and crushed Tellicherry black peppercorns. ‘Nuff said.

Read the rest of this entry »

Thanks to everyone–organizers, bloggers, and bakers (Not Derby Pie, Thrifty DC Cook, One Bite at a Time, Adventures in Shaw, Macheesmo, French Twist DC, Pete Bakes!, 1 Tsp Love, One Vanilla Bean), not to mention all the fantastic cookie fiends–who braved Sunday’s early chill to help raise $950.00 for Doctors Without Borders’ Haiti relief efforts. This is particularly kick-ass given that we were open for a mere two hours and faced with competition from some marauding Girl Scouts and THEIR cookies… you know, the ones made in factories in Indiana? Hmph. For those with practical concerns, all unsold baked goods were delivered to the N Street Village.

Below, please find an awesome video of the event, and some lovely pix fresh from the oven… er, camera. Thanks again, everyone!

Bake Sale For Haiti from Thomas Nguyen on Vimeo.

Read the rest of this entry »

Eggs=Breakfast.

There is no finer–nor more appropriate–food to serve in the morning. Though most egg dishes–in any significant quantity for a large number of guests–are impossible to pull off successfully. There is nothing worse than an overcooked egg. Scrambled eggs must be served and consumed immediately, most appropriate for two, no more than four people. Frittatas are excellent but keep said dish in mind for no more than four guests. And omelettes? Just make them for yourself.The last thing you want to do is become a short-order cook on Sunday:

“Two more sunny-side up eggs, Charlie? *smack* Coming right up!”

So,  how do you still manage to serve eggs provided you have six or more guests over in the morning? Enter, the baked egg.

It’s elegant, classy, and giggly; easy to make an army of them all at the same time, from 6- 20.  Read the rest of this entry »

For tomorrow’s bake sale. Hope to see all of you there!

The lovely Rivka over at Not Derby Pie has rallied round some of D.C.’s food bloggers for a bake sale to benefit Haiti (via Doctors Without Borders, a very nice organization indeed). The Fruits will be contributing their ever so cool icebox cookies and peppermint brownies in addition to helping man the sale, so stop by! We will surely steer you right–though, really, how could you go wrong? See you Sunday morning at the Dupont Farmer’s Market! Or, more specifically, in front of Zorba’s Cafe, 1612 20th Street, N.W. 

So, as promised, I baked the Victoria Sponge from La Nigella’s How to Be a Domestic Goddess. I followed her directions, using the food processor method, and sandwiched it with the traditional cream and jam (with a few berries) per instructions. Never one to be content with leaving well enough alone, however, I did a bit of reading on the cake, whose simplicity belies its significance.

It’s so-called because it was a common on the tea table of the eponomous queen whose courtiers had, following the death of her beloved Albert, encouraged her to host tea parties as a way of reentering the public sphere. It rapidly spread to the country’s humbler environs as well, and has remained a favorite since. As a beloved standard, the Victoria sponge–or, more accurately, the Victoria sandwich, as it isn’t actually a sponge cake in the strictest sense–has also become something of a culinary barometer: the higher a cook can get her sponge cakes to rise, the higher the esteem with which she is regarded.

Against such lofty antecedents and expectations, I have to admit that I am not 100% pleased with this iteration, so no recipe yet. I KNEW I should have used cake strips–either aluminized cloth or silicone that wrap around the cake to ensure more even cooking and less domeing of the cake–but I forgot to and got two perfectly serviceable, but not perfectly perfect layers. Argh. While Mr. T and our house guests proclaimed the Victoria sandwich to be a delicious success, I’m convinced, however, that I can make it harder, better, faster, stronger. So, recipe to come once I try again, using the by-hand method that demands less leavening and remembering the cake strips. And then we shall see who has the fairest tea table in all the land… *maniacal laughter*

This weekend was a gorgeous sunny one that found all of D.C. running about outside or lying prone on the grass busily manufacturing Vitamin D after a long, grey winter. After a busy day of brunching and monument-viewing and other important activities with Mrs. T and Dr. T, everyone felt like a nice salad would be just the thing for supper. (We brunched at the Tabard Inn. There were doughnuts…) As I often do, I turned to the South of France for my very favorite entree salad (sorry Chicken Caesar, you’re just too corporate lunch box for me). Salad Niçoise is a pleasing mix of the fresh, the savory, and the piquant–and a perfect way to extend the sunshine of a glorious day out.

Read the rest of this entry »

So yes, I may have mentioned that Mr. T has family in town. I may also have mentioned that they’re lovely, and that they’re English. And this means that there is tea. Lots and lots of tea. Did I mention that there’s tea? I just want to make sure that you’re getting the full picture… of tea. Whatever the time, place, or occasion, it’s right for tea. And, while I insist on my perversely New England-y habit of drinking my tea iced and unsweetened, I can really get behind this ritualistic pause for beverage and wee nibbles. So, hooray for tea time!

This does mean, however, that the hostess with the mostess must needs have an array of tea-time nibbles on hand. Mr. T has repeatedly tried to use tea time (as in, pausing for tea, not a hardcore lace mitt-and-petits fours throwdown) as an object lesson for small pleasures; he says that tea-times, and the English in general,  demand small, restrained pleasures. This approach, however, is totally foreign to me, having been brought up with the firmly American attitude that “if a thing’s worth doing, it’s worth overdoing”.

Unfortunately for my best intentions toward grandiosity, I’ve spent most of the past week flat on my back recovering from the unceremonious removal of my appendix. Thus I have not been engaging in the excessive bustle of baking you and I might expect. Happily, I am mostly upright at this point and I did forsightfully pop a lemon poppyseed poundcake into the freezer a few weeks ago, so I’ll not be caught with my tea party pants down. I’ll still, I think, need to pop round to Rodman’s for a tin of Cabury’s biscuits (UK spec.) all the same. In any event, our Strategic Marmalade Supplies are running low. And regardless, come hell or high water I WILL be making La Nigella’s Victoria Sponge at some point during their stay. So there.

Read the rest of this entry »

And they’re even British! That’s right, Mr. T’s mom–whoops, I mean mum–Mrs. T and his sister, Dr. T, are coming to visit. They get in this evening, and when I have house guest incoming after a long flight, I often turn to soup. It’s tasty and nourishing, but easy to deal with when a full-on meal might be too much. A nice restorative bowl and a bit of good bread or biscuit (U.S. spec.) is, I think, the perfect thing having sat in a plane for hours and done battle with THE AIRPORT, which is always a nightmare, no matter where THE AIRPORT happens to be. The last time Mrs. T came to visit, I think I made the medieval squash soup. That, of course, means that I need something else for tonight. I don’t like to repeat recipes for guests, least of all for the mother-in-law (who, for the record, is super-lovely and delightful and is DEFINITELY not tracking my soup service…).

So, what soup to make? Curried Broccoli! Yes. Another perennial favorite, this simple puree seems far more than the sum of its parts. A little onion, a little curry, a little broccoli, and you’re there. The curry (and a stealthy potato) adds welcome warmth and substance without making it overbearing or heavy. Spice to your heart’s content, but I like a sweet, mild curry for this. Now is not the time for eye-bursting vindaloo. So that’s the plan at least: curried broccoli soup for the English guests. Curry! Come on! That’s practically like serving Heinz Baked Beans on toast… except, you know, for the whole “ewww” thing. After eight years with Mr. T, it seems that I’m still American at least.

Read the rest of this entry »

Cooked properly (with great eggs, too), scrambled eggs are extraordinary. Since my diet yesterday consisted of a handful of granola and 3/4 of a salad from Chop’t–I had NO appetite AT ALL–I needed fuel.  Oh, yeah. The 17 mile bike ride I went on last night didn’t help, either.  I whipped these up this morning for myself and made a little parsley oil (Uh, yeah. Why the hell not?). I was bound and determined to have a proper breakfast.

You do NOT need to add any dairy (milk, cream) to your scrambled eggs. Honestly, if you just whisk them on low-heat, you will end up with lovingly heavenly curd after lovingly heavenly curd.

Fluffy. Creamy. Ethereal with a little bit of Emerald City courtesy of the wonderful parsley oil which elevated the dish even higher. Tasty stuff, indeed.

Read the rest of this entry »