This is a favorite seasonal treat from the cookbook 'With a Measure of Grace: The Stories and Recipes of a Small Town Restaurant.' Nearly one year ago to this very day, M. and I were vacationing in the very small town of Escalante, Utah. We ate every night at Hell's Backbone Grill, a small, delightful and utterly delicious restaurant. On the very last night we were there, after days of hiking, bird watching, and eating some amazing meals, we decided to order dessert. At the suggestion of the waitress we ordered Dark Magic Gingerbread with Butterscotch Sauce. We loved it and I have made it again and again in memory of a most wonderful day.
Dark Magic Gingerbread
3 cups white flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
3 teaspoons ground ginger
1 and 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 teaspoon Chimayo chile (I have left this out and it is equally delicious)
1 and 1/2 sticks butter, softened
2 eggs
1 and 1/2 cups sugar
1 and 1/2 cups dark molasses
1 and 1/4 cup boiling water
1/2 cup diced pear
1 tablespoon chopped crystallized ginger
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease & flour a 9 by 13 baking pan.
2. Sift flour, baking soda, salt, and spices
3. In a large bowl, beat butter until it's creamy. Gradually add eggs and sugar and beat with an electric mixer on high speed until batter is light in color and texture, 2 to 3 minutes. Slowly beat in molasses.
4. Add flour mix and stir until just combined (don't over mix).
5. Stir in boiling water slowly, mixing well, then add diced pear & crystallized ginger.
6. Pour batter into the prepared pan and bake cake for about 40 minutes, until the cake springs back when lightly pressed on top.
Butterscotch Sauce
1 stick unsalted butter
1/4 cup water
2 tablespoons light corn syrup
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup heavy cream
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla or scotch whiskey
1. Combine butter, water, and corn syrup in a heavy bottomed suacepan and cook over medium heat, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon until the butter is melted.
2. Add sugar and stir until it is dissolved, completely smooth and no longer making gritty, scraping sounds.
3. Increase heat and boil without stirring until the mixture starts to brown around the edges. Start stirring and continue to stir while the sauce thickens and turns darker brown.
4. When it just barely begins to smoke, remove from heat and pour in cream (be careful because the cream can cause the sauce to sputter). Stir sauce until sauce is well mixed. If there are lumps, place over low heat and stir the lumps out.
5. Add salt and vanilla or scotch and stir well.
Monday, October 20, 2008
First Supper in a New Home
I have been in San Francisco for one week, one sunny beautiful week during which M. has cooked nearly every meal. I have made toast, yes, and coffee, and lunches for myself. Last night I even started the rice and washed the lettuce for our salad. Oh and I made cake, a beautiful gingerbread birthday cake stuffed with two kinds of ginger (ground and crystallized) and diced pears. But one cannot live on cake alone, even if it is cake that is served warm with a spoonful of soft butterscotch sauce over the top.
So now it is my turn to cook the dinner. There is no pressure at all. I am not worried that I'll accidently burn something or make a meal that tastes horrible. I am not worried that I'll scratch a favorite pan or break a favorite plate. I am not worried that it will be a dismal failure and that because of my failures I'll never be allowed to cook dinner again. Not at all.
Ok, maybe there is a little bit of fear, a tad bit of worry that the meal (practiced once before with very good results) will not be good. I pray to the kitchen gods that the skillet will be hot, but not too hot; the knives sharp, but not too sharp; and that the sausages and plums will braise perfectly in their rich juices, creating a perfect sauce to be sopped up by large chunks of soft bread and chewed alongside a spicy, peppery arugula salad.
There is no pressure at all, but this meal must be just right.
So now it is my turn to cook the dinner. There is no pressure at all. I am not worried that I'll accidently burn something or make a meal that tastes horrible. I am not worried that I'll scratch a favorite pan or break a favorite plate. I am not worried that it will be a dismal failure and that because of my failures I'll never be allowed to cook dinner again. Not at all.
Ok, maybe there is a little bit of fear, a tad bit of worry that the meal (practiced once before with very good results) will not be good. I pray to the kitchen gods that the skillet will be hot, but not too hot; the knives sharp, but not too sharp; and that the sausages and plums will braise perfectly in their rich juices, creating a perfect sauce to be sopped up by large chunks of soft bread and chewed alongside a spicy, peppery arugula salad.
There is no pressure at all, but this meal must be just right.
Wednesday, October 08, 2008
Final Days
Today is the day before the day before The Move. I am down to the nitty gritty of packing. There are things that need boxes and boxes that need things. Yet nothing seems to match up and I am still surrounded by piles and piles.
I slept poorly last night and woke up to rain and fog, a typical Oregon October day. So I did what I had to do -- turned on the oven for one last time. I was early, before 7 AM, and dark. The oven clicked on as I searched for what to make. I needed something that would incorporate the last cup or so of frozen blueberries in the freezer. I bought them at the farmer's market in late July, a big bag of them, knowing that if I froze them they would be tough to eat before it was time to pack my bags. And indeed it was. So I used the last of the whole wheat flour, the last of the eggs, the last of the oil, and the last of the blueberries to make a loaf of blueberry cake for the road.
Just putting the ingredients together was relaxing and made me feel useful and productive in a way that all those piles of boxes could not. And also a little bit sad.
I slept poorly last night and woke up to rain and fog, a typical Oregon October day. So I did what I had to do -- turned on the oven for one last time. I was early, before 7 AM, and dark. The oven clicked on as I searched for what to make. I needed something that would incorporate the last cup or so of frozen blueberries in the freezer. I bought them at the farmer's market in late July, a big bag of them, knowing that if I froze them they would be tough to eat before it was time to pack my bags. And indeed it was. So I used the last of the whole wheat flour, the last of the eggs, the last of the oil, and the last of the blueberries to make a loaf of blueberry cake for the road.
Just putting the ingredients together was relaxing and made me feel useful and productive in a way that all those piles of boxes could not. And also a little bit sad.
Monday, October 06, 2008
The Fatted Calf
It is now less than a week until The Move. The past few days have been a seemingly never ending buffet of food and drink. I have visited my favorite Portland spots, some of them again and again, never seeming to grow tired of the tastes and smells of my most favorite foods and the atmosphere of my best haunts. These, after all, are the ones I will miss the most.
But today, I am feeling a little weary. Yes, it is so kind of my nearest and dearest to make sure that I am well fed and well loved before they send me packing to San Francisco. But do they not realize that there is food in the great city of San Francisco too -- new food, new restaurants, new cafes and quaint hole-in-the-wall spots?
Of course they know. But they don't care. I'm in Portland for five more days after all which means there is more time, more meals, more drinks to be had.
Meanwhile, I enjoy the bounty and try to make room in my very full stomach for just one more thing.
Curious about what and where I ate? Read on.
Ken's: Oh how I love Ken's. Once upon a time, only a few years ago I spent at least two mornings a week at Ken's. I love their walnut rolls with butter and jam the most, followed by cannelle. I will miss cannelle so much that I'll have to work extra hard on perfecting my technique and baking them myself. Last week at Ken's, A and I shared a salad with chunks of heirloom tomato, ricotta salata, pine nuts and the most amazine mint coriander dressing. I will think about that dressing for a long time. A promises to try to replicate it.
Evoe: is new. New, new, new. I love trying some new before I go. Evoe is on SE Hawthorne, connected to Pastaworks. Last Friday while the October rain poured down I ate the spiciest of deviled eggs, a fennel mushroom salad, and the smallest piece of pork belly surrounded by white beans and red peppers. It was all very very good.
Stumptown: I had the most beautiful and delicious cappucino at the Ace Hotel Stumptown last week. Each and every coffee I drink there is seemingly The Best. I will miss visiting. Stumptown was a place I went on Saturday mornings or bad days, the times when a simple coffee can lift you over the sun and into a good day.
Navarre: On Saturday seven girls went to Navarre. We sprung for the tasting menu, which means I never even looked at the list of food or the specials. I just ate course after course of amazing, homey, Navarre perfect food. It is hard to remember the highlights. Was it the pate (so rich John referred to it as savory buttercream), the tuna, the halibut, or the octupus? Or maybe it was the perfect roast chicken, or the spicy meatballs? Maybe it was the wine -- two whites and a red from Sicily? Or maybe, just maybe, it was the five desserts. Yes there were, five: devil's food cake with white frosting, chocolate mousse, rosemary nectarine pie, peach baby bottom cake, and fruit stewed in red wine with cream and a sugar cookie. All came with tall skinny birthday candles, laughter, and song.
Yakuza: Yakuza was new to me, and I needed something new to help balance out all the over-eating at the old favorites. And Yakuza was good, quiet and nourishing on a cold rainy night. Each dish popped with flavor. I have been thinking and thinking about what I liked best and I just can't pick. But it might have been the salad of cucumbers and avocado with a simple sweet/savory sesame dressing. Or, it might have been the large scallops that came in a bowlful of orange proscecco brown butter sauce. The scallops were spicy and hot, the sauce was oh-so-tart. The combo was perfect.
But wait, we weren't done yet. What about something sweet to end the evening? The five desserts at Navarre the night before plus the mid-afternoon donuts from Staccato Gelato to help with the packing just weren't quite enough. So we went to Pix. I love love Pix, partially because it feels as if you have stepped onto the set of Amelie. The desserts are magnificent too, though my stomach will always hold a special spot for the coconut chocolate sorbet. And the salted caramel macaroons. My stomach likes those a lot too.
Dare I say stay tuned for more? I am giving my belly a bit of a break, but come the weekend there might be a meal or two to boast about.
But today, I am feeling a little weary. Yes, it is so kind of my nearest and dearest to make sure that I am well fed and well loved before they send me packing to San Francisco. But do they not realize that there is food in the great city of San Francisco too -- new food, new restaurants, new cafes and quaint hole-in-the-wall spots?
Of course they know. But they don't care. I'm in Portland for five more days after all which means there is more time, more meals, more drinks to be had.
Meanwhile, I enjoy the bounty and try to make room in my very full stomach for just one more thing.
Curious about what and where I ate? Read on.
Ken's: Oh how I love Ken's. Once upon a time, only a few years ago I spent at least two mornings a week at Ken's. I love their walnut rolls with butter and jam the most, followed by cannelle. I will miss cannelle so much that I'll have to work extra hard on perfecting my technique and baking them myself. Last week at Ken's, A and I shared a salad with chunks of heirloom tomato, ricotta salata, pine nuts and the most amazine mint coriander dressing. I will think about that dressing for a long time. A promises to try to replicate it.
Evoe: is new. New, new, new. I love trying some new before I go. Evoe is on SE Hawthorne, connected to Pastaworks. Last Friday while the October rain poured down I ate the spiciest of deviled eggs, a fennel mushroom salad, and the smallest piece of pork belly surrounded by white beans and red peppers. It was all very very good.
Stumptown: I had the most beautiful and delicious cappucino at the Ace Hotel Stumptown last week. Each and every coffee I drink there is seemingly The Best. I will miss visiting. Stumptown was a place I went on Saturday mornings or bad days, the times when a simple coffee can lift you over the sun and into a good day.
Navarre: On Saturday seven girls went to Navarre. We sprung for the tasting menu, which means I never even looked at the list of food or the specials. I just ate course after course of amazing, homey, Navarre perfect food. It is hard to remember the highlights. Was it the pate (so rich John referred to it as savory buttercream), the tuna, the halibut, or the octupus? Or maybe it was the perfect roast chicken, or the spicy meatballs? Maybe it was the wine -- two whites and a red from Sicily? Or maybe, just maybe, it was the five desserts. Yes there were, five: devil's food cake with white frosting, chocolate mousse, rosemary nectarine pie, peach baby bottom cake, and fruit stewed in red wine with cream and a sugar cookie. All came with tall skinny birthday candles, laughter, and song.
Yakuza: Yakuza was new to me, and I needed something new to help balance out all the over-eating at the old favorites. And Yakuza was good, quiet and nourishing on a cold rainy night. Each dish popped with flavor. I have been thinking and thinking about what I liked best and I just can't pick. But it might have been the salad of cucumbers and avocado with a simple sweet/savory sesame dressing. Or, it might have been the large scallops that came in a bowlful of orange proscecco brown butter sauce. The scallops were spicy and hot, the sauce was oh-so-tart. The combo was perfect.
But wait, we weren't done yet. What about something sweet to end the evening? The five desserts at Navarre the night before plus the mid-afternoon donuts from Staccato Gelato to help with the packing just weren't quite enough. So we went to Pix. I love love Pix, partially because it feels as if you have stepped onto the set of Amelie. The desserts are magnificent too, though my stomach will always hold a special spot for the coconut chocolate sorbet. And the salted caramel macaroons. My stomach likes those a lot too.
Dare I say stay tuned for more? I am giving my belly a bit of a break, but come the weekend there might be a meal or two to boast about.
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