{Newlyweds Cook} Annie + Oliver

{images courtesy of Martha Stewart Weddings}

Wedding season is upon us, and since my sweet brother and his long-time girlfriend, Karen, are recently engaged, we're all abuzz around here about wedding details once again, something I hadn't thought a lot about since my own magical day. And, since we're having a Martha moment over here, I thought it was a perfect time to share with you one of the most beautiful weddings I have ever seen, which was featured in the pages of Martha Stewart Weddings. The betrothed, Annie and her sweet groom Olly, are the sister and brother-in-law of my friend Katie, of Mom's Kitchen Handbook. When I saw their wedding, my jaw literally dropped. Annie is a couture dress designer, and her utterly romantic line Annie Sullivan | Couture Bridal,  recently launched. So it's not surprising that there were so many elegant details applied to her own wedding day. On the eve of Annie and Olly's first year anniversary, I asked Annie to recall their sweet story.

Annie says...


I have always had a fixation on all things French. I moved to France in my twenties, sure that I would fall in love with a French man and have French-speaking children who would drink hot chocolate out of little bowls and call me “maman.”  

Instead, after a couple of years on French soil, I returned to New York City and fell head-over-heels for Oliver Cobb, a hunky Englishman who was kinder than anyone I'd ever dated, French or otherwise, and had an accent that made me swoon.   

On our first date, while throwing back copious amounts of oysters and Sancerre, Olly casually mentioned his family's house in the south of France. As if I wasn't already hooked by his entirely charming self, this little tidbit was the icing on the cake. We have been together ever since.

On our first trip to Paris together, after a boozy lunch in Saint Germain, I led Olly through the teensy, twisted streets to Rue Bonaparte so he could sample what I considered pure heaven: an olive oil and vanilla macaron from the pastry shop, Pierre Hermé. We ordered several other flavors -- caramel with fleur de sel, rose, lemon, chocolate -- and stood in the square in front Saint Sulpice church with our waxed paper bag, nibbling our way through each one, warmed by Paris' afternoon sun. We were in love. 

Fast forward to our wedding. I wanted the day to feel like a spectacular European dinner party set in a far gone era.  The dessert had to be just right, and I am not a fan of English sweets. The likes of  Battenberg cake, fruit cake, bakewell tart, and something called “spotted dick," are not for me. Sticky toffee pudding is the one exception, but lacks the elegance I had envisioned. Going with French desserts seemed like a no-brainer.

We decided we would have a dessert table laden with classic French sweets, something the likes of which Marie Antoinette would have approved. Making the traditional French wedding cake, croquembouche, the centerpiece, would be the crowning touch. 

Croquembouche is essentially a tower of crème puffs or profiteroles, shaped into a tall cone, bound with spindly ribbons of spun sugar. Since pastry chef Francois Payard makes them magnificently, we asked him to do ours, along with all of the wedding desserts. 

Aside from the croquembouche, the table was laid with assorted diminutive goodies, everything from macarons to miniature lemon tarts, madelines, and petite éclairs. It was whimsical and decadent and the perfect end to the day. 

Lucky for us, Payard Pastry is a subway ride away, where we can go and reminisce about our first macaron together in Paris, and our first one as a married couple.

In the end I got what I wanted: the love of my life. I figure I can just teach our children to call me "maman."

~

{Martha Stewart} The Spring Wedding Show

We did it! As soon as it's live online, I promise to post.

{A Party} The Newlywed Cookbook at Pink Olive, NYC

I hate to go all girlie on you, but if you'll let me for just a second, there's something about a pretty shop and a gathering of girls that just puts me into happy fits. Next Saturday, I'll be celebrating and signing my book, The Newlywed Cookbook, at Pink Olive, on a charmed little rue in the East Village {details above}. Come join me, Pink Olive's gracious owner Grace Kang, 2h flowers, and Izze sparkling juice as we toast and celebrate the season of the betrothed. RSVP at Concierge@pinkolive.com and I promise to save you one of my Deep Dark Secret Chocolate Cookies. xo


A special thanks to....

Martha Stewart + Me

 {Photo by FRANÇOIS DISCHINGER}

Pssst....

I should be sleeping right now, but I'm going on The Martha Stewart Show tomorrow, and I'm kind of excited. Not only is Martha an impressive icon, she took things that I think have tremendous value --feeding your family,  making a home, tending a garden -- and not only made them chic, but potentially lucrative too. Things our mothers did for free. Women getting paid to make the world a more beautiful, delicious place? Amen to that.

Love her or not, if you've watched her show lately, you may know Martha has a pretty good sense of humor. And she must be a good sport, too. Imagine inviting people on your show and letting them show you how to do things you know very well how to do. Like bake cookies. See, it's really quite generous. She gives us our chance to shine. And for that, well, Martha, I think you're the bee's knees.

I'll be sure to let you know the air date! But for now, night night. Time to get my beauty rest. 

xo

Sarah 

A Giveaway from Ice Milk Aprons

Okay, I'm officially declaring this southern love month. And one of my absolute favorite things to come out of the south since the buttermilk biscuit is heirloom designer Ashley Leckey Schoenith's Ice Milk Aprons. They are elegant, lady like and just plain pretty. And who doesn't want to feel pretty when they are cooking?  In celebration of the launch of The Newlywed Cookbook and as a treat to all the brides-to-be this summer and spring, Ashley's graciously offered her beautiful Vanilla Churned Sugar apron for one lucky reader {bride, bride-to-be, or not!}. 

And in the spirit of southern hospitality, Ashley is also hosting a giveaway of The Newlywed Cookbook on her site today too. Once you're there, I know you'll want to stay. Not only does Ashley has impeccable taste, she has the most charming spirit. The way she treasures family traditions, heirlooms and the sweet moments in life come right through the screen, and you'll soon wish yourself a part of your world. 


If that wasn't sweet enough, she's featuring my Grandma Copeland's Brown Sugar Pudding on her Heirloomed blog later this week, too. This is one seriously special recipe to my family, a true heirloom. Granddad brought it home from a boarding house in Missouri where he stayed not long after he and my grandmother were secretly married. He gave the recipe to his young bride, who I'm told would make it for him just as often as he wanted for the rest of their lives. Grandma and Granddad were married almost 70 years {I know, amazing!}, and were the definition of forever newlyweds. They were always lavishing each other with love and tenderness, which in Grandma's case often came in the form of good southern cooking. 

About marriage and love, Grandma always said to us, "learn to make his favorite things." 

To lavish the ones you love with good cooking, you need a special apron, one with a story, one that makes you feel especially lovely while you're learning to make your beloved's favorite things. Brides, beauties, passionate cooks and anyone who treasures a handmade heirloom, here's how to enter to win: 

Post a comment with a story about either your favorite food from the south, the best thing you learned to make or bake from your mother or grandmother, or what and how you learned to cook your beloved's favorite thing. Then, if you tweet, follow Edible Living and Ice Milk Aprons on twitter and RT I just entered to win @icemilkaprons Vanilla Churned Sugar apron on @edibleliving http://bit.ly/icemilkgive. Then come back to tell us about it! Follow either of us on Pinterest {Ashley's pages are to die for} and come back to enter again! Three chances, now that is generous, southern hospitality for y'all. * {only U.S. residents eligible to win} *

This is one prize you'll want to keep in your family for generations to come.  

xo

Sarah

Bubbly + Books {A Book Signing for The Newlywed Cookbook}

i'm over the moon excited to be toasting and signing books tomorrow night at Chelsea Market Basket, and guess who is invited. why you, of course!

{you're invited} The Newlywed Cookbook Valentine's Tour, and a Bittersweet Chocolate Tart

{photos by sara remington}

It's Thursday, which means there's still plenty of time to go out and buy loads and loads of bittersweet chocolate before the weekend. That's a very good thing, first, because it's February, the month of Valentine's! And second, it's the start of the official Valentine's launch party for my new book, The Newlywed Cookbook. And where there is a Valentine's party, there will be chocolate. 

Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I dream myself in an airy Soho loft, where I'd invite you all to come for slender slivers of my Bittersweet Chocolate Tart with Smoked Sea Salt and a glass of pink champagne. We'd celebrate in high style, we would. But as I write from our snug new york city studio {we are newlyweds, after all}, it's hard to imagine more than two or three of you here at once. Still, our hearts are big and full of the love and joy that always precedes a feast among friends, so, feast we will!

For the next thirteen days, many talented writers, some old friends and many new ones, will be cooking from The Newlywed Cookbook,  sharing their story of food and love along with one of my recipes for you on their blogs! We, whether married two years or twelve years or not-yet-married-at-all, are toasting to the spirit of newlyweds ~ to the the joy and curiosity and abundant love that is at the heart of this book.

The menu, if I do say so myself, is quite delightful, and includes all the major valentines food groups. On it you'll find....

Rise and Shine Muffins ~ Oatmeal Yogurt Pancakes with Blackberry Crush ~ Ricotta Silver Dollar Pancakes ~ Multigrain Pancakes with Chocolate Shavings ~ Roasted Beets with Ricotta and Pistachios ~ Two-For-Two Cheese Souffle ~ Halibut with Coriander and Carrots ~  Grilled Lamb Chops with Melted Polenta ~ Cast Iron Skillet Steak ~ Dowry Dinner Rolls Chocolate Bread & Butter Pudding ~ 1000-Layer Chocolate Cookies~ Olive Oil Cake with Tangerine Marmalade

We invite you to come taste these recipes and hear the stories of these talented writers and friends here...

Dorie Greenspan ~ Diary of a Locavore ~  Aida Mollenkamp ~   Just A Little Organic ~ E.A.T. ~ Mom's Kitchen Handbook ~ Spoonful of Cake ~ Nancie McDermott ~ Farmhouse ~ Lucid Food  ~ Crumbs On My Keyboard ~ Dessert-o-Licious ~ Dallas Food Nerd ~ The June Cleaver Blog ~ Cherryspoon ~ Healthy And Happy Hour

To show our love for our readers and hopefully inspire some loving feasts in your home, each of us will be giving away a copy of The Newlywed Cookbook to one lucky reader. Kindly leave me (and them) a comment and tell us your story of food and love for your chance to win.


Meanwhile, while I regret that I can't cook you my Bittersweet Chocolate Tart myself, I'm so happy to share the recipe with you. I promise that your skill-set in the pastry department is of no matter; this is one simple, sensational valentine's treat you and your love won't regret embarking upon. 

Come, bring your beloveds, bring your friends as we toast to love. May your hearts and tables be filled!

xo, 
Sarah

Bittersweet Chocolate Tart with Smoked Sea Salt

~

Despite its handsome finish, this tart couldn’t be easier. The crust gets its tenderness from sugar and melted butter, pressed in instead of rolled for ease. It is completely simple, and sinfully elegant. The flavor comes from the chocolate and the cream, so splurge on the highest quality of both you can find.  Your loved ones are worth it.

Serves 12
{Crust}

1/2 cup/115 g unsalted butter, melted

3 tbsp sugar

1/2 tsp pure vanilla extract

Pinch of fine sea salt

1 cup/115 g all-purpose/plain flour

{Filling}

1/2 cup/120 ml heavy cream

1/2 cup/120 ml whole milk

2 tbsp sugar

Pinch of fine sea salt

7 oz/200 g high-quality bittersweet chocolate, chopped {1 heaping cup}

1 large egg, beaten

Smoked sea salt {optional}

Preheat the oven to 350˚F/180°C/gas 4.

Make the crust: Whisk together the melted butter, sugar, vanilla, and salt. Add the flour and stir until it feels like damp sand. Press the dough evenly along the bottom and up the sides of an 8-in/20-cm square or 9-in/ 23-cm round tart pan/flan tin with a removable bottom {which makes it much easier to remove the tart in one piece. If you don’t have a tart pan/flan tin, you can make this tart in a springform pan; press the dough evenly across the bottom and only about 1 1/4 to 1 1/2 in/3 to 4 cm up the side of the pan}. Use wax/greaseproof paper or buttered fingers to even out and press the dough tightly into the corners. Prick the crust all over with a fork and chill in the fridge until ready to bake, about 30 minutes.

Set the pan on a baking sheet/tray and bake until the crust is golden brown, about 25 minutes.

Make the filling: While the crust bakes, bring the cream, milk, sugar, and salt to a simmer in a medium saucepan over low heat. Remove from the heat and add the chocolate. Let it sit for about 2 minutes, without stirring. Starting in the middle of the pan, whisk together until the chocolate is evenly melted and the mixture a smooth and a shiny dark brown.

Whisk the beaten egg into the chocolate filling and pour the filling directly into the hot crust. Decrease the oven to 300˚ F/150˚C/gas 2 and return the tart to the oven. Bake until the filling is set, but still a little wiggly in the center, about 12 to 15 minutes (temperatures vary from oven to oven, so the visual clue is more important than time}. Set your timer for 12 minutes. If it looks mostly set at that point, test it by opening the oven door a crack and carefully jiggle the tart pan/flan tin with the edge of your oven mitt. Only the center third should wobble. If it wobbles all the way to the edge, close the door quickly and continue baking about 2 to 3 minutes more.

Remove and cool the tart completely on a rack at room temperature. Just before the tart cools and sets completely, sprinkle a few large flakes of smoked salt on the surface, or leave plain.

Remove the tart from the pan sides and carefully transfer to a platter before serving. Let it cool just until it slices easily. It melts in your mouth when served slightly warm, with a dollop of crème fraiche, if you wish, for extra decadence. Or cool completely, and serve by itself. 

P.S. The deep, smoky flavor of smoked sea salt is a fine complement to the rich chocolate, but this tart is just as elegant with big flakes of white sea salt, or if you’re a chocolate purist, no salt at all. 

{a date night show & tell} The Newlywed Cookbook Trailer

it's not supposed to snow in october. not when there's still tomatoes and zucchini at the market. not when the table's set for two on the little cafe table out back. but it did. just a few days after our anniversary. so we had our picnic anyway, on the living room floor. it was one of the best date nights we've had in ages.....

{tremendous thanks to our friends jim & iri, of brakethrough media and panforte productions, who were there too, with their cameras, to give you a peek into what lies inside the pages of The Newlywed Cookbook}

Newlyweds Cook: Luisa + Max {Date Night in Berlin}

Around here, Friday is date night. It's always given the end of the week a special sparkle, stealing away to the ladies room to put on lip gloss before András picked me up Friday from work, or slipping the secret ingredients for his favorite meal into the fridge for a surprise supper at home. It's a harder date to keep since baby girl arrived on the scene, but this sweet, sweet story from my friend and brand-newlywed Luisa Weiss, reminds me how important it is to keep the Friday fires burning. You might know Luisa as author of the well-adored blog The Wendesday Chef, but I'm guessing to one man, she's better known as the hightlight of each week, authoress of a superb plate of Spaghetti all’Amatriciana Tedesca, beloved wife. Join me in welcoming Luisa and Max home from their honeymoon in Greece and on with the rest of their joyous life together! Here is their story.  

 {photo by cinzia bruschin}

Luisa + Max
Berlin, Germany

Just a few months before my husband and I were married, he was offered a job, the kind of job that’s hard to refuse. Good news, you would think, especially in this day and age. And indeed, we were thrilled. But the offer was contingent upon one crucial thing: that Max move to another city, one in western Germany, just a little too far away for a daily commute from Berlin, which is where we live together.

Plenty of Germans, especially Berliners, commute elsewhere for work, since our city – as vibrant and beautiful as it may be - holds little in the way of employment for people in industries other than the creative one. In fact, Max’s father has this very life, working Mondays through Fridays in a town about three hours away from Berlin and coming home to Berlin and his wife, Max’s mother, only on weekends. A number of Max’s friends do the same dance each week.

It wasn’t ideal, we agreed. But it was doable. The commute would be just under three hours each way. And once a month, I’d go to see him, so Max wouldn’t have to travel every single weekend. The hope was (and is) that after a year or two, he’d be able to put in for a transfer to an office in a town just on the outskirts of Berlin and he’d move home. Our fingers are crossed.

Max and I are no strangers to long-distance love. In fact, in our early twenties, we spent five years in love while I lived in New York and he lived in Germany. We were too young and stupid for that relationship to ultimately flourish (and frankly, that amount of distance was, over that amount of time, the true killer). But after having found each other again in our early thirties and after I made the huge step of moving back to Berlin from New York, in part so we could we be together, the separation between Berlin and Kassel feels like a piece of cake.

After all, we are in the same time zone these days. The same country, too. We are each other’s wake-up calls and good night calls. I can hop on a train or get in the car if I really need to see him. Just knowing that he’s that close goes a long way. Every Saturday, we wake up together. Every Sunday evening, I drive him to the train station and we wave to each other, again and again, as he walks towards the tracks. And every Friday night, barring a train delay, Max comes home in time for dinner.

That first meal together on Friday evening, after five days of not seeing each other, is always special, no matter where we go or what we eat. Sometimes we make cheese sandwiches and munch on quick cucumber pickles on the living room couch. Sometimes I make us a simple pot of spaghetti with tomato sauce (a sauce Max learned to cook so well that I had to include that fact in our wedding vows). Sometimes I put on lipstick and heels before I go pick him up and we drive straight into the city from the train station, settling in at the bar at our favorite sushi restaurant, where we watch the sushi chef work furiously behind the bar, fingers flying. Sometimes, rarely, just as a guilty pleasure, we get currywursts from a street vendor, piping hot and sweetly spicy, and eat them in the front seat of the car, the way we used to do years ago, before we had any idea how our story would end. Or, really, how it would continue.

“But you're newlyweds!" people sometimes howl when they hear of our living arrangement. "Isn't it haaard?" And I don't think it's always easy for Max. He's the one with the weekly train rides, the new city to adjust to, the homesickness. All I do is miss him, but from the comfort of our home and our city, I don't think I really get to complain.

Plus, the upside of our arrangement is that our weekends together feel sacred and romantic. From the activities we choose to do, the people we see and the meals we share everything is done more deliberately, with more care and thought. The time we have is precious. We don’t want to waste a minute.

~

Luisa generously shared her favorite restaurants in Berlin to hide away with Max which you can find here, but since most of us can't get to Berlin tonight {poor us!}, here's her recipe for your date night. 

~

 Spaghetti all'Amatriciana Tedesca

When no restaurant holds the appeal that a home-cooked meal can, we stay home and I make spaghetti. These days, with summer gone and the cold nights of Berlin’s autumn stretching into daytime, we need fortification from our spaghetti sauce; a simple tomato sugo spiked with basil won’t do. In heavy rotation around these parts lately is what I like to call Spaghetti all’Amatriciana Tedesca. Instead of using guanciale or pancetta in the tomato sauce, I use German Schinkenspeck, which is the very lean part of a cured ham (it has a thick cap of fat, but I cut that off and the meat below is entirely lean). I like to buy a thick slice from the butcher at my favorite market on Saturday mornings and then use it all week long, cut into tomato sauce or diced finely in potato salad. It has a much stronger flavor than pancetta or guanciale, but it works incredibly well with the sweet onions and tomatoes and the kick from the chile. It’s hard not to eat the sauce straight from the pan while cooking.

 1 to 2 tablespoons olive oil

A 4-by-4-inch chunk of lean Schinkenspeck, cut into large dice

1 medium yellow onion, finely diced

1 14-ounce can whole tomatoes

1 small dried chile, broken in half

Salt to taste (optional)

200 grams dried spaghetti (I calculate about 80 grams for me, 120 grams for him)

serves 2

1. Put the olive oil in 10-inch sauté pan over medium heat and add the diced Schinkenspeck and onions. Let cook, stirring occasionally, until the onions are translucent and fragrant, about 7 to 10 minutes. Do not let the onions brown.

2. Pull the peeled tomatoes into long shreds with your fingers and add to the onions. Reserve half of the tomato puree; you don’t want this sauce to be too gloopy. Add the broken chile and stir to combine. Let the sauce simmer while you put a pot of salted water on to boil for the spaghetti.

3. The tomato sauce should simmer for about 20 minutes, about the time it will take you to boil the pasta water and cook the spaghetti until al dente. If you find the sauce getting too dry, add a spoonful or two of the tomato puree and let simmer. Taste the tomato sauce for seasoning just before serving; if needed, add some salt to taste. But between the chile and the Schinkenspeck, you probably won’t need much.

4. Drain the spaghetti, reserving some of the starchy pasta water. Put the drained spaghetti in the pan with the tomato sauce and stir to combine. Add some of the starchy water to loosen the mixture, if necessary. Serve and eat immediately. 

Marriage, Stinky Cheese & Fig Jam {an anniversary story}

Three years ago today, I married this crazy, brilliant, handsome, playful man. I love him more than I ever dreamed it possible to love. And when you love someone, sometimes you want to steal them away from the world and have them all to yourself, just for one day. That's how I'd hoped to spend today, in my favorite city with my favorite guy. Maybe we'd eat at abc kitchen or swing Greta between us in the park or just sit outside together at our favorite beer garden with our baby girl toddling at our feet and try not to be busy, just for a few minutes.

Yesterday, we found out András had to go to Boston for work this week, so there would be no dinner at New York's chicest local food mecca, no shared stein of beer, no Netflix streaming snuggled side by side in bed.

When he told me, I did a requisite pout. Then I spent a good hour feeling sorry for myself, something I don't believe in but allow myself about once a year. Until my friend Breana told me she spent her very first anniversary at home in North Carolina eating stinky cheese and fig jam while her hubby, Scott, was off doing his dissertation research among the cheetahs in Kruger National Park, South Africa.

That was a good reminder that in marriage, we didn't sign up for one perfect day together once a year, but instead, for all the simple, imperfect days we share in between, including the support and sacrifices it takes to follow our dreams. Perfection? That's what the wedding day is for, one magical day to get you started, something to relive when you're apart, and to hold onto anytime you need a little bit of fairy tale.

Today I have these photos from our fairy tale, and sweet Greta who is our happily ever after. And by tomorrow, András will be back by my side again.  But in the meantime, I'd like to commence the the tradition of the wild-card Stinky Cheese & Fig Jam Anniversary, redeemable for leather (3rd), pearl (30th), gold (50th),  diamond (75th) or any other anniversaries anytime you have to celebrate your special day apart from the one you love.

I'd love a story to keep me company while I stir my fig jam. Tell me, when you have had to spend your beloved day away from your beloved, and what did you do to sulk or celebrate? 

~

Fig Jam

2 pounds green or purple figs, stemmed and quartered

1 1/2 cups raw, organic sugar

zest and juice of 1 lemon

1/3 cup water

makes 3 8-ounce jars

1. Toss the figs, sugar and lemon zest together in a non-reactive saucepan and let them sit, about 15 minutes.
2. Add the lemon juice and water and bring to a simmer over low heat. Simmer, stirring occasionally, until figs are soft and the liquid is jammy, about 20 minutes.
3. Cool and transfer to sterile jars. Store in the fridge for up to 2 months. Serve with scones or toasted bread and stinky cheese. 

Newlyweds Cook {food for forever newlyweds}

As some of you already know, my first cookbook, The Newlywed Cookbook: Fresh Ideas and Modern Recipes for Cooking with and For Each Other, is coming out in just a few short months. I can’t wait to finally share the recipes and foods that sustain the sweet (and sometimes salty) life I share with my hubby, András.

There’s the temptation to hear the word Newlywed and write off the topic as something only for real newbies. Honeymooners. But here’s the thing: Somewhere between getting married and writing a book proposal and signing a contract and writing said book, András and I celebrated our one-year anniversary. And then our two-year anniversary. And next month, just before the book hits the shelves, we’ll celebrate anniversary number three.

What is a newlywed, exactly? By definition, it’s someone recently married. The way I see it, in the big picture of a marriage that I very much hope tops five or six decades, we’ll be recently married for many years to come. But more importantly, we still feel like newlyweds, and in many ways (despite the recent addition of our baby bird, Greta), we still live like newlyweds too.

One of my life goals is to always live with András like newlyweds, to cook and eat together with the same reckless joy and passion of that first year together. In that spirit, I want to hear from other newlyweds and forever newlyweds about their lives together, to learn about what makes their relationship tick, how they share meals and messes in the kitchen, what they cook, and where they eat out when they’re not cooking, all of which has inspired the launch of my new column, Newlyweds Cook: Food for Forever Newlyweds. This is a column for newlyweds, oldyweds, almost weds and never weds who love cooking, eating and celebrating life together.

To honor our title, I’ve invited a newer newlywed to join me as our Newlywed Editor as we begin our pursuit to tell the stories and share the recipes (mine, hers and sometimes theirs) that keep us all well fed. I’m going to introduce you to her and her hunky hubby tomorrow, so please come back and meet them. In the meantime, get into your kitchen and flirt with your sous chef.  We’ll be looking for twosomes all over the globe to join our column month-by-month and share the things that make your kitchen the spirited center of your nest.

xx, 

Sarah

P.S. Follow us on twitter @NewlywedsCook