Showing posts with label fall. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fall. Show all posts

Saturday, November 14, 2009

the hardest part is the beginning

One Pumpkin Whoopie Pie

I've been lazing around the house all day now, since I woke up. I've wanted to start this blog post, but instead I've been doing things to put it off. Things I've done today while procrastinating blog posting include:

1. Looking through four different cookbooks in search of fun things to do with the last of the carrots in our crisper
2. Making a list of everyone I want to give holiday gifts to, and planning what those gifts will be
3. Checking Twitter on five different occasions
4. Looking up dessert restaurants that are open late in Brooklyn for a friend's birthday
5. Making chicken stock from this week's roast chicken bones
6. Doing the dishes in the sink

While each of these fantastic procrastination devices has been somewhat productive (with the possible exception of the obsessive Twitter checking), what I really wanted to do was write. But as lots of people who write know, beginning is usually the most difficult part. My thought process during today's procrastination went something like this:

"I'd really like to write a blog post today. But what could I write about? I need to cook something to write about it. I mean, it's a food blog, after all. I can't just sit down and write things and then publish them to the internet. Yes, I should cook something. But what should I cook? We're nearly out of butter, and everything I would want to cook includes butter. I should go to the store to get some butter. But I don't really want to go to the conventional grocery store to get it. I don't know where that butter's been or what kind of a cow it came from. I could go to the farmers' market and get some cream to make my own butter. But then I have to go out in the rain, and it's going to take forever to walk to the farmers' market and back. I could make carrots, I guess. Carrots would be a good thing to make. Plus, people will be looking for things to make for Thanksgiving, and it would be nice to give them an idea for a side dish. But we have so many roasted vegetables in the fridge. I can't just make more carrots. They might go bad, and that would be such a waste. Maybe I could make a carrot soup. That would keep in the freezer. But I don't have any stock. I'd better start making stock with that chicken carcass I have from the other night. Now I'm hungry. I think I'll heat up some leftover roast chicken and vegetables with rice for lunch. I should probably do the dishes, too. This stock is going to take a long time, and it's getting dark now. There's no way I'm going to be able to make stock for a soup, make a soup, and photograph it for the blog today. I guess I should just start writing. I could post those awesome pumpkin whoopie pies from the Baked cookbook that Mary made a few weeks ago. But that's a sweet, and Adriana's probably going to be posting a lot of sweets since she just started her baking and pastry unit in school. But I guess it would be fine to post the whoopie pies because they're really terrific, and some people might want to make them for Thanksgiving. Yeah, I guess I could post about them. But what the heck am I going to write? I should just sit down and get started, and then if I don't like what I'm writing, I can always stop. There's no rule that says you have to finish a blog post the same day you start it. Okay, I'm just going to get started. Now what the heck should I write?"

Yes, folks, that's pretty much what it was like to be in my head today. Quite the jumble of thoughts, eh? To be honest, I don't have much else to say. These pumpkin whoopie pies are incredible. Mary made them, and they looked and smelled so terrific that I decided to eat a whole one, even though I'm going sugar- and white flour-free these days. They tasted to me like little hand-sized pumpkin pies. In fact, they tasted way better than pumpkin pie, in my opinion. Since she made them, I've been telling Mary that she's got to make these as a treat for Thanksgiving. I think you might want to do that, as well.

On an unrelated note, I currently have a Thanksgiving article up at Refrigerator Soup. Have you heard of the site yet? It's similar in some ways to Foodgawker and Tastespotting, except it's a bit more blogger-focused. Each day, the website features a few photos that are posted in a featured section above the fold of the page. This is a terrific chance for food bloggers to showcase their work and draw attention to unique dishes. Refrigerator Soup is also unique because they have a blogroll of all their contributors down the entire right side of the page. This means that as long as you contribute photos to their site regularly, the name of your blog will be on the front page for other food lovers to find. They're a relatively young site, as well, so it's a fantastic place to learn about smaller-scale bloggers who aren't featured as often on larger round-up sites. My favorite thing about them so far, though, is that the people behind the site are just as nice as can be. They genuinely care about bloggers and about providing compelling content. I highly recommend visiting them and submitting your photos if you have a food blog you would like to share.

Pumpkin Whoopie Pies

Pumpkin Whoopie Pies
Adapted from Baked: New Frontiers in Baking
Makes about 24 pies


For the pumpkin whoopie cookies:
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. baking soda
2 Tbs. cinnamon
1 Tbs. ginger
1 Tbs. cloves
2 cups firmly packed dark brown sugar
1 cup vegetable oil
3 cups chilled pumpkin puree
2 large eggs
1 tsp. vanilla extract

For the cream cheese filling:
3 cups confectioners' sugar
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
8 oz. cream cheese, softened
1 tsp. pure vanilla extract

Cookies:
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper or nonstick baking mats.

In a large bowl, whisk the flour, salt, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, ginger and cloves together and set aside.

In a separate bowl, whisk the brown sugar and oil together until combined. Add the pumpkin puree and whisk to combine thoroughly. Add the eggs and vanilla and whisk until combined.

Sprinkle the flour mixture over the pumpkin mixture and whisk until completely combined. Chill completely (at least one hour). This will make the pies easier to scoop and will give them their signature domed top.

Use a tablespoon to drop heaped spoonfuls of the dough onto the prepared baking sheets, about 1 inch apart. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes, until the cookies are just starting to crack on top and a toothpick inserted in the center of a cookie comes out clean. Remove from the oven and let the cookies cool completely on the pan while you make the filling.

Cream cheese filling:
Sift the confectioners' sugar into a medium bowl and set aside.

In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat the butter until it is completely smooth, with no visible lumps. Add the cream cheese and beat until combined.

Add the confectioners' sugar and vanilla and beat until smooth. Be careful not to overbeat the filling, or it will lose structure. (The filling can be made 1 day ahead. Cover the bowl tightly and put it in the refrigerator. Let the filling soften at room temperature before using.)

Assemble the whoopie pies:
Turn half of the cookies upside down (flat side facing up).

Use a tablespoon to drop a large dollop of filling onto the flat side of the cookie. Place another cookies, flat side down, on top of the filling. Press down slightly so that the filling spreads to the edges of the cookies. Repeat until all the cookies are used. Put the whoopie pies in the refrigerator for about 30 minutes to firm up before serving.

The whoopie pies will keep for up to 3 days, on a parchment-lined baking sheet covered with plastic wrap, in the refrigerator.

-Kylie

Pumpkin Whoopie Pies

Sunday, October 25, 2009

happy birthday, little blog (and our first giveaway)

carrot cupcakes and a pumpkin

This week, Thin Crust, Deep Dish turned one year old. If this were kindergarten, we would have brought in frosted cupcakes for the class. Regrettably, this is not kindergarten. We know this because: a) We haven't seen nap time in years, and b) No five-year-olds have asked Adriana to marry them lately (we'll tell you all about that some other time). Still, we wanted to celebrate with you. And so we've baked you cupcakes. Now, do not try to eat the screen. These cupcakes are actually, physically located in Brooklyn right now, though in spirit, they're in your tummy. Celebrating. If you want them to be actually, physically in your tummy, you can find the recipe here. Just bake them in buttered muffin tins, and only for 40 minutes.

blowing out the candle

Some of you have been here for Thin Crust, Deep Dish's entire life (hi, parents!), while some of you are just now visiting for the first time. And so we're inviting your participation. One of the things we hope for this blog in its second year of life is that more of you readers will join the conversation through comments. If you're reading this, please leave a comment telling us a bit about yourself. (ALERT ALERT! Our comments weren't working earlier, so if your comment disappears after you try to leave it, please send us an e-mail over at the right where it says Contact Us. We don't want to miss out on any more of your fabulous input. Meanwhile, we're trying to fix comment issues.) Please also tell us what you would like to see more of here on Thin Crust, Deep Dish. We'll then pick one commenter at random from a mixing bowl, and you will receive a gift of one of these: Fat, Ratio, or Super Natural Cooking. Each of these is a book we love, with an author we respect deeply. Think of it as a reverse birthday gift from us to you.

While we're chatting like this, there's something else we'd like to mention. You may have noticed some of the little design tweaks we've been making lately here at the blog. Well, there are more coming. We're in the process of changing things around to make this an even more fun space to be. As things change, feel free to drop us a line and let us know what works for you and what doesn't. After all, we like our guests to be comfy.

Thanks for being here to celebrate with us. Happy birthday, little blog.

-Adriana and Kylie

carrot cupcakes

Sunday, October 18, 2009

sugar freedom

Poaching Pears

This past couple of weeks, I've been joining in a virtual event hosted by Kimi of The Nourishing Gourmet called the Sugar-Free Challenge. If you know me, now is probably the time that you should say, "What? Sugar free?" I know; it's shocking. I'm the one who would rather smuggle candy than popcorn into the movies, the one who bakes cookies to share with coworkers for no reason at all. My hope is that, from this challenge, I'll still be the same sweet-loving person, but in a more natural and nourishing sense. And anyway, there are three levels of the challenge, and I started with the most basic. You can get more details about what the challenge is and the different levels here. While Kimi's challenge ended last week, I'm still going on my own personal challenge.

I don't know what it was that made me think I could successfully complete this challenge. Perhaps it's just that, similar to Adriana, I'm drunk with love over fall and everything the markets have to offer right about now. But usually my favorite fall things include a particular sandwich cookie with neon orange cream filling. And the small dishes of bite-sized candies that start popping up in every office and shop in mid-October. This year, though, things have been different.
 
When Kimi posted the challenge, I realized that I wanted to, and could, join in. So here I am. It's almost two weeks later, and extracting processed sugars and white flour from my routine hasn't been the tug-of-war of will versus desire that I had expected. Instead, sugar-free has felt simply like freedom. Please note that I've been debating with myself about whether or not to blog about this, afraid that committing this experience to keyboard would somehow break this sugar-free spell and that I would suddenly find myself incapable of resisting all highly refined products and slipping into a mire of darkness and ill-health with which I associate them. However, I'm taking that chance, as I think there are several elements of this sugar-free week from which others (and I) can benefit. Here are some of them.

1. Eat lots of fermented foods. This may not be true for everybody, but for me, eating fermented foods has really helped to reduce cravings for sweets and other refined carbohydrates. If you know why this is, please chime in. My best guess is that fermented foods are more easily digestible and increase healthy intestinal flora, allowing us to extract more nutrients from our food and decreasing cravings for nutrients we aren't getting. These days, if I'm hungry between getting home from work and making dinner, I snack on a half cup or so of Bubbies sauerkraut or my homemade 'kraut. I'm a little bit in love with it.

2. Eat more vegetables. This challenge has been a great excuse for me to fall back in love with my favorite vegetables. Last week, instead of packing my usual afternoon snack of almonds and an apple, I sauteed a red bell pepper and an onion. It was delicious. Funny that I didn't think of sauteed vegetables as a snack before, and that I so blatantly overlooked their natural sweetness.

3. Get enough protein. I know this can be a hard one, especially for the vegetarians and vegans out there.  Plus, who wants to go around calculating the amount of protein you need with each meal? My tactic is to make sure I have some form of animal protein at each meal, be it unsweetened whole milk yogurt, scrambled eggs, chicken or grass-fed beef.

4. Include high-quality fats. Some of my favorites of late have been my homemade cultured butter, coconut milk and coconut oil, almonds, olive oil and whole milk from grass-fed cows.

5. Experiment with natural sweeteners. Try out some sweet leaf Stevia in your coffee or tea, or add raw honey to your oatmeal instead of eating sugary packaged cereals. One of my favorite fruit-sweetened recipes is stewed prunes, which are simply luscious and decadent with yogurt. Oh, and this whole natural sweeteners thing is what brings me to my next point: poached pears. I know that even if you're going sugar free, you might still want to share a beautiful dessert with your friends when they come over for dinner. These poached pears are perfect for just such an occasion. Mine are sweetened only with apple cider, and I found them plenty sweet. However, if you want to add a teaspoon of raw honey to the cider as it reduces, I'm sure that would be lovely, as well. I love these pears because they fill the house with autumnal aromas without the sugar and white flour that are in so many fall treats.

Mulling Spices

Cider-Poached Pears for Fall
Serves 4


2 cups fresh apple cider
2 Tbs. mulling spices
4 pears, peeled, halved and cored
Optional: 1 tsp. raw honey

Add the cider and spices to a medium-sized saucepan and bring to a low boil. Stir in the honey if you are using it. Reduce the heat, and allow mixture to simmer, uncovered, for ten minutes.

Meanwhile, peel, halve and core your pears and place them gently in the liquid. Continue to simmer for 10 to 15 minutes, until the pears yield easily to the tines of a fork but are not falling apart. By now, your liquid should have reduced to half its original volume. If it has not, remove the pears when they are tender and continue to reduce poaching liquid.

Remove the pears from the pan and place in shallow bowls. Strain the liquid into a bowl to remove the spices, and generously spoon the liquid on top of the pears. Serve warm as a dessert, or cooled as an accompaniment to breakfast yogurt.

*Note: You'll notice that the pears I photographed were not halved and cored. I did this because they are pretty to serve that way. However, on second thought, it's much easier for people to eat these if you do the coring before you poach, which is why I included that step in the recipe.

-Kylie

Cider-Poached Pear
 

Subscribe in a reader

Adriana Willsie and Kylie Springman ©2009