Dec 29
Me from five years ago would be skeptical to see me here talking about risotto, since it was only a few years back I took any interest in it at all, and even more wary to see me recommending something with spinach, since even just a couple of weeks ago I wouldn’t have believed I could do such a thing. But here I am, heartily recommending both, and hoping this ends up on your table either for New Years or some time early in the new year. Read more
Here I am, the day before Thanksgiving, not talking about Thanksgiving food. This would be a perfect breakfast for an otherwise long weekend full of heavy dishes and indulging, and it would be particularly great to serve if you have guests in the house, but that’s just a coincidence. The main point is that this is a wonderful breakfast for when you have a bit of time in the morning – partially because it needs some time in the oven, but mostly because its very nature seems to most fit a slow, cozy, restorative sort of start to the day.
It’s rare, these days, that we have those sorts of mornings at home – between working, house guests, and out-of-town weekend plans, only once or twice since we’ve been in Madison have we had a morning with nowhere to be. So, when two weekends ago we had a cold, gray day with nothing on the schedule until the afternoon, I knew immediately that I’d turn to this recipe. Oatmeal, baked slowly with spices, maple syrup, milk, and an egg, plus fruit and/or nuts and/or any other toppings you might think to add. I knew going in exactly what I wanted to add – cubes of persimmon, toasted coconut, pumpkin and flax seeds, and vanilla. I’d been adding those things to my regular, everyday oatmeal in the mornings, and I couldn’t get over how well they all went together.
Nov 19
I’ve been feeling a little remiss in my duties as a Minnesotan lately, considering how little I’ve talked about wild rice over the years I’ve had this site. We don’t eat it as often as we should, and that’s probably where the guilt actually lies, but I’m determined to remedy the situation and so here I am.
I know I’ve mentioned wild rice here and again, but let’s back up and get a good handle on the whole business. Wild rice (which is not actually a rice, but we’ll get to that) looks like very long long-grain rice covered by a thin brownish-blackish skin. When properly cooked, that skin breaks open and most of the grains begin to curl in on themselves, which many recipes refer to as “blossoming.” The grains still have their bran intact, which gives it a toothsome, chewy texture similar to brown rice and other whole grains. It has a toasty, nutty, earthy flavor, and can often smell and taste slightly like black tea. The flavor and texture it adds over other rices and grains is worth the extra effort required in cooking it, and it’s interesting to add to soups, breads, salads, and other dishes in a way that other grains seem to act more as mere filler or heft.
That said, I’m from Minnesota. I get it. I’ve eaten wild rice my whole life, and in a million different ways. I’ve always known the difference between real wild rice and the other stuff, just like someone from the Northwest knows about wild salmon and someone from New Mexico knows about real green chile. Wild rice isn’t nearly as pervasive of a thing as those other two, so don’t feel bad if you have no idea where I’m going with this – just know that there’s a difference. Read more
Nov 14
Fairly often, things wiggle their way into my life and hang around for a while. Sometimes it’s a craving that won’t quit, or an activity that becomes a routine, or an idea or flavor or experience I become a little fixated on. I go through phases with foods I want to eat all the time, I get addicted to TV shows, I listen to albums non-stop, I wear certain outfits whenever they’re clean, and there’s usually some cocktail or other that I’m ordering. These things stick around for a while until something – a change in the weather, a random craving, or a need for change – steers me elsewhere.
And right now, it’s this humble little honey gimlet.
Oct 22
I did something exciting to these brussels sprouts. I did something fantastic to them, in fact, though in a way that might make some people feel a little nervous. “Gratin” means cheese and cream and butter, see, and sometimes those things induce a bit of anxiety. There’s also gussied-up breadcrumbs and caramelized onions, which don’t tend to turn people away, but the rest can b ea bit prickly.
But if you’ve been here for a bit of time you’ll know that I’m a pretty fervent defender of the butters and creams of the world; always ready to push for the sorts of things our great-grandmothers would have eaten (was that not someone’s – Michael Pollan’s, perhaps? – advice; to eat only things made of ingredients our great-grandmothers would have understood as a child?). I just have trouble getting worked up over something made with ingredients I could (at least conceivably) get from a farm, and I generally choose to fully immerse myself in and enjoy these things rather than worry about how much or how little I’m allowed to have. I live a pretty healthy lifestyle, in general, and a gratin here or there will not be my undoing.
So, here I am turning perfectly innocent brussels sprouts into something a bit devious. If your eyes and hearts are turning toward the holidays already, then by all means let me kickstart things for you. Read more
My name is Bowen and I'm a cooking instructor/food writer/home cook in Seattle, WA. I'm dedicated to community-based food systems that nourish people and planet alike, and this site is an extension of my kitchen - seasonal, fresh food and cocktails made with heart (and sometimes an indecent amount of olive oil) to share with friends and loved ones.
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