one splendid squash + a prayer for peace

I've always said, never underestimate the ability of a humble squash to feed a family. Growing up, one of my favorite meals was mom's baked squash, stuffed with sweet and spicy sausage and a sprinkling of brown sugar. We'd each get an oozing warm half, or a quarter (for the littler ones) drizzled with the buttery brown-sugar goodness that had collected in the bottom of the roasting pan. It was steady and sure, both the meal and the feeling I had after eating it, surrounded by my siblings and parents at the family table.

I intended to write you about this habit I have of buying a pretty squash on every trip to the market, particularly when I know we'll be going away. It keeps well on the counter, and waits for our return, a promised sure-thing dinner when we return from a weekend or even a week away. I planned to write to you about the style of simple sure-thing cooking I've come to rely on the last two weeks, working outside the house again as Food Director at Real Simple magazine. I thought I might convince you of the splendor such simple foods can translate into when you give them a little love and care. But right now, squash doesn't seem to be quite enough of a steady and sure thing for the times we're living in.

Tonight, far, far too many families are sitting around a table with an enormous part of their world and their hearts missing. I can't express enough sorrow or sadness, can't begin to comprehend the future for these families. All I can offer is prayer, and a wish that each of us take every opportunity to continue to love, cherish and nurture the beloved ones we have the great privilege of sitting among tonight.

God bless and keep us, every one.

{eat cake} Rhubarb Upside Down Cake + Our Little Secret

{photo by Sara Remington}

This is the story of the best cake I've ever made, the cake that got me on The Martha Stewart Show. It is my mother's, and originally my grandma Pollock's famous Rhubarb Upside Down Cake. The making of this cake is as clear as any memory I have of childhood. Mom would send one of us into the backyard to snap off fat stalks of rhubarb that grew up over our heads. I remember the ruby color, the first crack of the fibers as she sliced them into plump chunks, rhythmically rocking her well-used Chicago Cutlery against the cutting board. The smell of the house as the cake cooks is like a wave of browning sugar that washed over every sense, and it can still take me back to the sounds of my dad, smacking his lips with a gleeful “oh honey, honey, hon-ey” aimed at my mother as he drizzled fresh cream over his steamy portion. To me, this cake is all innocence and childhood. It is bliss.

Years later, when I was learning French pastry at the New York City restaurant Café Boulud, I made mom's cake for the staff, and my pastry chef Remy Funfrock, whom I both feared and adored. I brought him his portion rather sheepishly -- he was a renowned three-star French pastry chef and this a humble farm dessert. He spouted rave reviews in his thick French accent, claiming he wanted to put it on his menu, and making me, the awkward and normally silent new pastry cook, feel like a sudden star. His praise was a strong, early lesson to always be proud of where we come from.

Since then I've made this cake proudly for friends and colleagues far and wide, including for my dear friend Nikki while we were working side by side in the Food Network Kitchens years ago. Knowing I wanted to save the recipe to include in my own cookbook one day, I shared the recipe with her but with the promise never to reveal its contents, especially, the secret ingredient -- marshmallows. 

Packaged miniature marshmallows go against all the principles of fresh, local, seasonal food. But you’ll have to forgive yourself just this once. They are the magic ingredient in this irresistible cake, that brûlée into an alluring crust along the top of the cake, balancing the tart, tender rhubarb that's making its fleeting appearance in the market as we speak. 

Needless to say, Nikki kept her promise and our secret until years later when, while running the kitchen at The Martha Stewart Show, she made this cake for Martha Stewart herself. And that's how my book won Martha's heart. 

Sunday night I'll be teaching a group of newlyweds how to make this cake, along with five of my other favorite late-spring, early-summer dishes from my book. I sincerely wish you could all be there with me (I love a packed house!). Ugh. Why do you all live so far away? So we can be together in spirit, here's my recipe so you can make Rhubarb Upside Down Cake and have a little "honey, honey hon-ey" in your kitchen too. 

~

Rhubarb Upside-Down Cake

From The Newlywed Cookbook

Serves 6

5 tbsp/70 g unsalted butter {plus more for the pan}, at room temperature

1 1/4 cups/140 g cake/soft-wheat flour

1 1/4 tsp baking powder

1 3/4 cups/350 g sugar

1/4 tsp fine sea salt

1/2 cup/120 ml whole milk

1 large egg, beaten

1 tsp pure vanilla extract

4 large stalks rhubarb, cut in 1/2-in/12 mm pieces {about 4 cups/2 kg}

Handful of miniature marshmallows

High-quality vanilla ice cream, for serving

Heavy/double cream {optional}, for serving

Preheat the oven to 350˚F/180°C/gas 4. Butter a 9-in/23-cm-square baking pan.

Whisk together the flour, baking powder, 3/4 cup/150 g of the sugar, and salt in a medium bowl. Mix in the 5 tbsp/70g soft butter with a fork or your fingers. Whisk together the milk, eggs, and vanilla in a small bowl. Add the milk mixture to the flour mixture, using a fork to bring all together into a loose batter.

Toss together the rhubarb, the remaining 1 cup/200 g sugar, and marshmallows in a medium bowl; spoon in an even layer in the prepared baking pan. Spoon the batter over the top in an even layer. The batter will drip down between the rhubarb allowing some of the rhubarb to show {don’t worry if some of the marshmallows and rhubarb show, they will melt into a caramelized crust as the cake cooks}.

Bake in the center of the oven until the rhubarb is bubbly, the top is puffed and caramelized {slightly golden-crisp in spots}, and the cake springs back lightly when touched, about 40 minutes.

If you can resist the intoxicating smell, let the cake cool a few minutes on a rack. Then spoon out into small bowls, flipping the cake so the rhubarb side faces up, and serve with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. If you’re feeling really decadent or have a bit of Southern in you, drizzle fresh cool cream over the top.  

{in the test kitchen} playing with....

bloomsdale spinach. snap peas. fiddlehead ferns. strawberries. ramps. 

{in season} Bloomsdale Spinach

Lately I've been blown away by the bold pinks and greens found in the garden that practically scream of spring. Radish sprouts with tender pink roots. Blushing ruby rhubarb with pale green streaks. And voluminous, ruffled Bloomsdale Spinach stemmed with a splash of hot pink. Until you grow it yourself or find it at the farmer's market, you may never see the bright pink stems of fresh Bloomsdale spinach. I had never had until I gathered this homegrown batch in the sink and practically mediated over the power of these colors. No offense to the pre-washed bagged baby version (which has its place), but it has nothing on this tangy, almost-sweet spring green.

This spring I've been putting Bloomsdale spinach on DIY pizza {Jim Lahey no-knead style}, tossing it together raw in salads, and stuffing it into grilled cheese and quesadillas. And today, for lunch, there will be Spinach Soup with Rosemary Croutons, just the thing for another rainy spring day. Savor it now before fresh spinach fades away into the hot days of summer.

{Earth Day Weekend Project} Plant Raspberries

Last summer, our first in our house upstate, we chanced upon a roadside plant sale with a sign advertising raspberries, $5. Baby Greta had already established herself as a serious raspberry lover, like her daddy, and since it's always been my life-long dream to step outside the backyard into an orchard, or at least a bramble, I was in. I didn't know a thing about planting raspberries, but at $5 a tiny bush {and an old coffee can to leave your cash in}, there was very little risk. Between May and September, Greta and I picked handful upon handful of raspberries off those tiny bushes the grew, in full sun, up to my waist.

This Sunday is Earth Day, the perfect time to put something in the ground that will feed you and your family for years to come. Raspberries need full sun and some trellising, but beyond that, very little from you except water. Plant them as a hedge row, along a fence or any tucked away corner of the yard where they are easy to trellis, and ideally somewhere so close to the kitchen door you can pluck them off the bushes just minutes before you pile them on your weekend waffles or crepes. Spring is the best time to plant raspberries. Before you do, here's what you should know: 

look for.....

Everbearing Raspberries {sometimes called fall-bearing}, which bear fruit slowly but constantly throughout the growing season.  Raspberries come in all sizes and colors from red, purple, golden, or white varieties, so choose your favorite, or plant a bush of each if you have the space. The best sources to buy plants are always your local nursery, where they are likely to sell or at least know what varieties will grow well in your region, but you'll also find them a Home Depot and even some grocery stores, depending on where you live.

raspberries need.....

Raspberries need full sun, plenty of water and light pruning once or twice a year. They grow well in most soils, but prefer sandy loam soil with lots of organic matter {compost and hummus} added to the soil. The key elements are sun, space to grow year by year, and a sturdy trellising system that keeps the canes {branches} off the ground and allows for air to circulate and dry the berries during rainy spells. Plant raspberry bushes or canes in a shallow holes 2 feet apart, with 10 feet between each row. Cover the roots with about 3 inches of soil, not more. Prune each spring by removing tall canes and any weak ones, and prune again the fall after the last {or largest} harvest. 

eat them.....

Raspberries are loaded with fiber, vitamins A, C, folate, antioxidants and minerals. The seeds also contain vitamin E. Eat them whole on top of pancakes, waffles, crepes or ice cream, stirred into muffins or made into pies, cobblers or buckles. They are extremely good eating, and the most healthful, straight from the bush.

{Grow} The 8 Square Feet Challenge + Garden Tool Giveaway

 {Photo by Dana Gallagher for Whole Living}

What if I told you all the produce in this beautiful plate of pasta was grown in just 8 square feet, in Brooklyn no less?

The recipe for this Vegetable Garden Linguine comes from Whole Living magazine, one of my favorite mags ever. In this issue, they challenged several Brooklyn-based gardeners to grow a feast in just 8 square feet. Not only are the recipes in this story so simply good, the planting strategy attached to each recipe is incredibly practical and easy to execute today. I mean truly, today. You could head to your local nursery directly after reading the article and put your plan into action. It's that simple. 

You have to admit, if we can do it in NYC you really can do it anywhere. With a single raised beds or several pots, just 2 by 4-feet in space, you just might amaze yourself at what you can grow, too. 

I was so inspired by the can-do spirit of this article that this Earth Day, and all summer long, I'm taking the challenge and asking you to do it with me. Leave a comment here to commit to grow at least one homegrown produce-based feast this summer (butter, olive oil, eggs, pasta, cheese, salt, pepper, spices and other pantry staples are free-bees). Check back with me from time to time and tell me how your garden is growing via comments (and leave your names, I want to learn about you!). 

When your feast is complete, send photos of your garden, the meal and your recipe to grow(at)edibleliving(dot)com. The Edible Living team and I will choose a winner based on resourcefulness, creativity, and of course taste. I'll feature the winning recipe and photos right here, with your story. And, to keep your garden growing, I'll send the winner, and the two runners up each one of my favorite gardening tools from Williams-Sonomas' new gardening line, Agrarian, like this gorgeous Joseph Bentley cultivator, below. 

Okay, let the growing begin. Who's In? 

{Books} To Grow Cook Eat

In honor of Earth Day 2012 {this Sunday, April 22}, the second installment of my favorite new cookbooks is all about inspiring you to grow. Both of these cookbooks {sold in Anthropologie, next to mine} caught my eye because I think one of the most useful and enjoyable things to learn about food is how to grow it! Each book glorifies home-grown veggies, and show you how to make the most of your harvest. 

The Gardner and the Grill

I recently met the two grilling gals behind this book, Karen Adler and Judith Fertig, who call themselves the BBQ Queens. From their spunk, I knew I'd love anything created by this Kansas City duo, who have dedicated decades to the skills of the grill. You'll be fire roasting, wood-planking and char-grilling your heart-out before you know it. 

Grow Cook Eat

When you want to put in a garden, what you need is some good, practical advice, and Grow Cook Eat delivers. A Food Lover's Guide to Gardening, as the subtitle so plainly states, this book suits every kitchen gardener no matter how many years they've had their trowel in the soil, or haven't. Author Willi Galloway shares her well-organized and inspiring successes and sound advice, hard-earned from years of tending her own Seattle soil. 

I hope you'll forgive me the pun, but I have to say it. Dig in. 

But before you go, tell me, what would you like to learn more about on the kitchen gardening front? 

{Books} For the Very Fond of Food

My friend Andrea Nguyen has said, Anthropologie is the holy grail of lifestyle books. It's also a communal happy place, one of my favorite spaces to escape and dream up a prettier world. So imagine my delight when I got an email on Saturday morning alerting me that The Newlywed Cookbook was now on their shelves. Hooray! That was my big, big hope.

I'm a complete sucker for the kinds of books Anthropologie deems worthy of their little book nooks -- dreamy, inspired, playful, happy, beautiful and full of mouthwatering food. Here are a few others I love, from their virtual bookshelves, perfect for gifting {even to yourself} to anyone who is very fond of food.

Very Fond of Food 
Who wouldn't love a book called Very Fond of Food? An absolute kill-joy, that's who. I adored Sophie Dahl's luscious, down-to-earth first book, Ms. Dahl's Volumptious Delights: A Recipe for Every Season, Mood, and Appetite. I'm only a teeny, tiny bit jealous she gets to name her books these playful, poetic titles.

Ripe
I've been looking forward to this book for a long time. You  might already know I think fruits and vegetables are the greatest thing since sliced bread {I do realize that's a gross oxymoron}. And, if you're familiar with Cheryl Sternman Rule's award winning blog, 5 Second Rule, you know what a pleasure it is to read her writing. What better excuse to dive into her color-drenched pages?

Plenty
Yotam Ottolengi's Plenty was a smash success in London before my publisher, Chronicle Books, repackaged it for American eyes. And what a beautiful package it is. This is full of unexpected, inspired vegetarian food for anyone {omnivores included} who loves flavor.

The Good Life
What's with all these lucky ducks nailing these one in a million book titles? This one worked on me. I picked it right up and paged through inviting moment after moment of pies, breads, biscuits, ice cream, sausage, vegetables and more. From Australian chef Adrian Richardson, this book is full of texture and the kind of recipes I want to go home and cook, right now, for everyone I love.

P.S. You might have noticed I'm sensitive about titles today. These are four sensational ones. I'm still working on nailing the perfect title for my yet-unamed Mostly Vegetarian cookbook, due in 14 days {but who's counting}. Any suggestion? I'd love to hear from you!

{Grow} Heirloom Seeds for Sundays

Depending on where you live, the first serious day of gardening season may be Easter, or Memorial Day {or if you're one of the lucky southerners, the season never ended}.

I start most of my garden from seeds, so Easter weekend was prime planting days. I can't think of a more peaceful, spiritual way to start a Sunday than early morning outside with my family in the soil {followed by baths, brunch and church...}. That's exactly where we were last Sunday, and where we're headed now, but not before I leave you with my favorite sources for organic and heirloom seeds so you can spend the next Sunday in your garden.

Most of our garden gets planted with heirloom seeds, since that helps restore the wonderfully diverse food system nature intended. The following are a mix of heirloom and organic seed seed sources. You may not find the same kind of gorgeous, vintage art {pictured} on all of these seed packets, but what's inside is sure to make beautiful, edible art of your yard.

Botanical Interests

Botanicalinterests.com

Burpee Organic Seeds

Burpee.com

Hudson Valley Seed Library

Seedlibrary.org

Johnny’s Selected Seeds

Johnnyseeds.com

Renee’s Garden

Reneesgarden.com

Seeds of Change

Seedsofchange.com

Seed Savers Exchange

seedsavers.org

The Cook’s Garden

Cooksgarden.com