gourmet magazine folds

After years of being at the forefront of cuisine and months filled with whispers of trouble, Gourmet magazine has closed its doors.
So sad.
So many questions.
Why? Beyond dismal ad revenues, which could partially be attributed to the economic climate?
Which magazine will step up to be the classic, sophisticated authority on food that Gourmet was? Bon Appetit is nice, but focused much more on trendiness and unambitious, comfortable recipes.
Where will all the talented writers and cooks employed by gourmet go?
Will someone take the name and go independent? Ruth?
I feel so alone...

how to make instant coffee

Instant coffee has a bad name, and rightfully so. That's why I buy mine when in Europe. Or I get other people to, like my brother, who called me from France and was like "they don't have instant espresso, all they have is this Nescafe" and I'm like "bingo, you got it!" I suppose what I'm trying to convey is that when in a country where coffee means espresso, it's hard to get a bad cup. Really hard.

So I love having it around, because it's just so handy. And sometimes even French press doesn't make that cafe con leche taste just right. Somewhat recently, a friend told me about a trick his Peruvian friends swear by, and I've been doing it ever since. And it produces the best cup of instant coffee, with a foamy top and a perfectly blended body. It basically consists of forming a paste with the instant coffee granules, sugar, and a splash of milk or water. The process is almost as fun as drinking the resulting perfect cup of 'coffee'.

the best instant coffee

this makes a small/normal size cup of coffee depending on where you are from

tbsp instant espresso/strong coffee
tbsp of sugar
6-8 ounces of milk (whole cut with a bit of water, for me)

measure the coffee and sugar out into a cup. splash a tiny bit of milk and mush with spoon into a thick paste. pour steaming milk over coffee, agitating with spoon. drink.

pumpkin chocolate-chip cookies: a series

From appearances, this may look like another successful baking experiment. But appearances can be deceiving.
My closest friends can tell you about my obsession with pumpkin, and more specifically, perfectly crunchy, chewy pumpkin chocolate-chip cookies. A bakery in town used to make the absolute perfect specimen: 5 inches in diameter, crispy around the edges and top, yet chewy chewy in the center. I ate a whole one nearly every time I was there, stomachache be darned. I never got around asking them how they made these wonders, even though at the time I had already had a few failed attempts to recreate them. And the urgency wasn't there....after all, they'd always be there for the purchasing, right?
Wrong. Out of business. Without ever releasing their secret recipe.
If you've ever tried to make pumpkin chocolate chip cookies, you know that most often (using canned pumpkin) they turn out cake like. Soft. If you're lucky there's a bit of a crunch around the side, but always cakey.
So I spend the better part of every fall wasting a lot of chocolate, flour, and butter trying to figure this out. I've consulted experts. I've read up. I've combed the internet...disappointments all.
They say a little knowledge is a dangerous thing...today I set out to try again now that October is on us. Oh, I thought, I'll just up the sugar and fat (butter) and drain the pumpkin and voila...perfect cookies. So I let the pumpkin drain for about a half day over cheesecloth (which did let out about a CUP of liquid!). So I changed the proportions, even starting with the best chocolate chip cookie recipe ever.
The results? Probably my best attempt yet, but still totally lacking. Crunchy, a bit. I could tell they were trying. But still cakey, and not nearly enough pumpkiny zing.
Don't worry. I'm determined to get this right, for pumpkin cookie lovers everywhere. The quest continues...

all that remains.

Another glorious trip to my favorite little corner of the world, Gipuzkoa and Navarra, España, and I'm left with just memories and a slowly disappearing hunk of generic (and incredibly flavorful) sheep's milk cheese.

Hauled through customs and multiple airports, the cheese is still every bit as delicious as it was when the man behind the counter at Spar Todo Todo cut it from the wheel. So I'm savoring it slowly, whittling away one sliver at a time, and marveling how it can taste so much better than American cheese.

Reason #5,602 to not live here: our default cheese is technically not even food, but a food product.

Okay, so I lied. It's not all I'm left with. I have notes from an amazing dinner at Akelarre, which I hope to post for whoever cares (probably sans photo) soon. I also have all THIS which I stowed away in my Chinese store suitcase:



marti's spain essentials:

*bottle of Ribera del Duero (Cepa Gavilán 2006)
*Bela Untza, a basque homemade herb liquor
*pimientos del piquillo
*Principe chocolate filled cookies
*instant decaf coffee
*spanish ketchup
*special pastas from Sandro Desii (flavors: spaghettini with chives and lemon shells)
*guindilla peppers in vinegar
*salsa roquefort
*galletas marias
*dried piment d'espelette and piment d'espelette mustard


sigh. Spain, if you are reading this, I miss you!

summer vegetable pasta salad: recipe salvage

Okay. So, as soon as you get your breath back, you can see why I had to make this recipe one day after receiving my September issue of Gourmet. A luscious, glorious stack of summer vegetables that demanded my attention and seemed to promise to be more than the sum of its parts.

I succumbed, preparing it for a very special dinner party featuring Vellum, a most delicious wine from Napa Valley. Here is my slightly less stylized and photoshopped version, made with Snow's Bend multicolored summer squash.



Unfortunately, here is a case where beauty just wasn't enough. Perhaps there were too many other delicious items on offer (creamed corn with queso fresco, peppercorn-encrusted NY strips, steamed okra with scallions, ginger and lime), but the veggie torte remained mostly whole in the middle of the table, in its lonely beauty, while we were licking clean the pan of creamed corn.

Fortunately, with a little bit of creativity, I am able to present a usable, delicious recipe that I can fully recommend. I took the remaining torte, chopped it up and tossed it with warm pasta, a little mayonnaise, and some of Alecia's Tomato Chutney, which is a very special condiment made here in Alabama. I crumbled up some leftover queso fresco and lunched on a thoroughly delicious yet ugly plate of veggie pasta goodness.





summer vegetable pasta salad


1/2 recipe yellow squash and bell pepper torte, or sauteed slices of summer veggies
1 1/2 c dried whole wheat rotini or other pasta, cooked until al dente
3 tbsp mayonnaise
3 tbsp Alecia's tomato chutney
1/2 tsp salt, or to taste
1 tsp fresh ground black pepper, or to taste
1/2 c crumbled queso fresco (or mild feta)

Toss warmed veggies, warm pasta, mayonnaise, chutney, salt and pepper. Sprinkle cheese over top.

muscadine sorbet

It's a bountiful month for vegetable harvests, but here in central Alabama, it's a transitional time for fruits. Gone are the blueberries and blackberries of the hot summer sun. Enter muscadines, the untouted, undervalued American grape. Perusing the farmer's market Saturday with dessert on my mind, I saw only cardboard pints of lonely muscadines.

Fortunately, for last month's birthday I received an ice cream maker, and I've been dying to crank it up for a few weeks. I walked away with two pints of muscadines in my hands, dreaming of their transformation into icy refreshment.

Eating a muscadine is fun. First you bite a hole in the thick skin, then you suck out the pulp while extracting the seeds with your tongue. Eating muscadine sorbet, a much simpler prospect, is divine. Once blended, the muscadine skin lends a neon pink-purple hue to the sorbet, thanks to their dark skins. It's actually fairly breathtaking. And the taste is like pure, freezing-cold muscadine essence, which you actually miss a bit when you're managing the skin and seeds and pulp all at once.

I'm sure this will be just one of many future ice cream posts, but it may well end up as my favorite.


muscadine sorbet
2 pints of muscadines, halved and seeded
1 c water
1 c sugar

Heat water and sugar together, stirring occasionally, until clear. Cool.
Blend muscadines in blender for a few minutes at high speed, until totally liquefied. Pass through a fine-mesh strainer.
Whisk half the simple syrup (that's the sugar water) into the muscadine juice. Taste for sweetness, adding more simple syrup if desired.
Spin in ice cream maker according to manufacturer's instructions.

puerco pibil

Probably everyone's favorite meal from our vacation was puerco pibil (one of the dinners I prepared). Of course, that is an unofficial statement that I pretty much made up, but this tender, deeply spiced pork really stole the show without requiring much effort.

If you can muster up the energy to grab a couple new spices from the store, cube some pork butt, and use your blender, then you can easily prepare an amazing meal for dozens of people at a time. Ever since Chip showed me the special features on Once Upon a Time in Mexico, which include a cooking class on puerco pibil with director Robert Rodriguez, this dish has been a never-fail staple.



It's easy. It will never let you down. And it gracefully accepts whatever you choose to pair with it. This time I prepared some refried black beans, by sauteeing some peppers, onion and garlic with black beans and smashing them. Then I threw some red onions and corn on the grill, whipped out a batch of homemade salsa, and heated up some tortillas.
It was incredible.



puerco pibil

5tbsp whole annato seeds
2t whole cumin seeds
1 tbsp peppercorns
8 whole allspice seeds
1/2 tsp whole cloves

Grind the above in a spice mill/coffee grinder.

2 habanero chiles, stems and seeds removed, chopped
1/2 cup orange juice
1/2 cup white vinegar
2 tbsp salt
8 cloves garlic
Juice of 5 lemons
splash tequila

Combine the above with the spice mix in a blender, and puree.

5 pounds pork butt, cut into 2-inch cubes

Combine all ingredients in a zip-top bag and mix well. Line a 9x13 pan with banana leaves; add the pork mixture; fold over the leaves to cover, then cover tightly with foil. Alternatively, just wrap the whole thing in a foil packet. Bake 4 hours at 325.

adapted from Robert Rodriguez