a conscious baker's blog

Before going into the subject of this entry, let me post an update on the fundraising effort. Peter Wingfield ran the New York Marathon this past Sunday in a tick over 4 hours (massively impressive! woohoo Peter, SO proud of you!), and the Abundance Bake Sale raised about $75--not too shabby, considering baked items were going for 25-50 cents apiece. Best of all, the money goes to UNICEF's 'Believe in Zero' campaign through Project Edan. PE has raised over $14K so far. The set goal was $10K, so we're nearly 150% above that! All in all, a great effort and kids the world over will benefit. Fantastic!

I haven't finished with the Bake Sale. It's just going in a slightly different direction while the holidays are on. I'll post ideas and results here.

Now, on to the main topic: making good pumpkin pie.

When I was a kid, I used to love watching my paternal grandmother make pie. She never used a recipe; she measured everything by handfuls, spoonfuls, and in any clean cup available. Her pies were always, always perfect. The only time I ever heard about a problem was from my mother, who told me once that Grandma wanted to replace the meringue on a lemon pie because ants had eaten half of it. Not the filling, just the meringue. (Mom convinced her to throw the whole thing out, but it took some doing. 'Frugality' was Grandma's middle name.)

Anyway, Grandma made good basic pies--no frills, no surprises. You knew what you were getting, every time. And yet they were never boring, mainly because they were GOOD. They were simple, made from the best ingredients available. Every bite tasted wonderful, even cold. (Nothing beats leftover homemade pie for Black Friday breakfast.)

I've been looking for a good pumpkin pie for a while now. The Libby's label recipe is too pale for me--it's okay in a pinch, but seems too sweet and milky. I also dislike 'chiffon' pumpkin pie, made with gelatin; the texture is supposed to be silky but comes off as granular and a little too slick for my taste.

This recipe is from the Old Farmer's Almanac site. I think this is the closest to my grandmother's style. It's a solid, spicy pie with massive pumpkin presence, but not stodgy or boring. It's delicious on its own or with a little real whipped cream (and if I find out you're using that frozen junk in a tub that's one molecule away from being plastic, I'll know you for a brainless tool of consumerism and you'll NEVER get to eat dinner at my house).

I did make two changes:

1) The original recipe calls for one cup of sugar--a lot for one 9-inch pie. I cut it back to 1/2 cup and it was still plenty sweet. Next time I'll take it down to 1/3 cup. You could also try 1/3-1/2 cup honey, agave or maple syrup in place of the sugar, for less uniform and more unique sweetness. (Molasses is also an option; it has a very strong flavor so be warned, but also makes a lovely luscious dark pie.) If you do choose to try a liquid sweetener, add a little more flour to the mixture--say, 1 1/2 tablespoons instead of just 1.

2) In place of the light cream I used 1/2 cup greek style yogurt, thinned with just a bit of milk. Yogurt gives the pie a subtle tangyness that teams up well with the mellow pumpkin and sweet spices. You could also use sour cream or even buttermilk. If you're going dairy-free, soy, rice or nut milk will work here; the filling will be a bit thinner, but still good.

Also, if your oven tends to run hot, preheat to 375F so your pie won't burn.

My favorite pie crust recipe got lost in the 2006 flood in Fredonia and I'm still trying to replace it, so just use whatever recipe you like. If you don't feel like rolling out a crust, use graham crackers or shortbread cookies to make a crumb crust. It won't detract from the taste at all. (Gluten-free cookies make an excellent crust in place of graham crackers. I make mine from Pamela's shortbread cookies and ghee.) You may blind-bake the pastry crust if you like; that simply means you prick the crust with a fork, then fill the pan with dry beans or a special bead chain to keep the crust from puffing up, and bake it for about 10 minutes. This will help prevent a soggy crust after the filling is added and baked.

The Old Farmer's Almanac Pumpkin Pie

1 cup sugar
1 tablespoon unbleached all-purpose OR gluten-free flour
1/2 teaspoon salt (opt)
1 teaspoon ginger
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
dash of pepper
dash of cloves
3 large eggs
1 1/2 cups canned OR cooked and pureed pumpkin
1 cup light cream or evaporated milk

Preheat the oven to 400F. Combine all ingredients and mix until smooth. Pour into a prepared 9-inch pastry or graham-cracker pie shell and bake for 50 minutes. Serve warm with real whipped cream or vanilla-bean ice cream. Serves 6-8.

What is ghee?

Basically it's clarified butter, made by simmering the butter until the milk proteins separate from the fat. The fat is then strained through a fine cloth and put in an airtight container. It doesn't require refrigeration as long as it's kept moisture- and oxidation-free and no dirty or food-covered utensils are used to remove it from the container.

Ghee is almost completely composed of saturated fat. It contains beneficial substances such as butyric acid. Some studies done with rodents indicate ghee can help reduce plasma LDL cholesterol. Long-time blood-type dieters know ghee heals gut illnesses and issues like nothing else.

Ghee has a high smoke point and is wonderful for frying and sauteeing; it has the added benefit of not creating free radicals or glycated end products by exposure to high heat. I use a 50/50 combination of ghee and light olive oil for my cooking, and have successfully substituted ghee for butter in many recipes (such as the carrot cake recipe preceding this entry).

And it tastes great! The flavor is mellow and nutty without being intense or intrusive. I use it almost exclusively. Uncooked butter tastes raw to me now!

So how do you make ghee? Here's my recipe. Easy-peasy, trust me.

Thoroughly wash and dry a glass jar (pint or mayonnaise size is fine) or an airtight plastic container. (The container MUST be bone-dry, not a single drop of moisture in it anywhere.) Line a mesh sieve or colander with an unbleached coffee filter or paper towel, and set aside.

Take a pound of unsalted organic butter. Yes, organic--expensive, but quality really matters here. The better the butter, the better the ghee.

Put the butter in a saucepan over medium-low heat. Let the butter melt. Eventually it will start to simmer. You'll hear a lot of crackling and foam will appear on top of the butter. This will continue for some time; it's the process by which the milk proteins cook out and settle to the bottom of the pan. Don't stir, just let the butter continue simmering. Keep an eye peeled though. Resist the temptation to stir the pot or turn up the heat; you'll end up with ghee that's too brown, or even burnt.

Eventually the crackling sounds will start to fade. This is when you MUST pay constant attention to what's going on. You should notice a nice popcorny or caramel-like smell coming from the pot. Skim off a bit of the foam if necessary so you can see the milk solids at the bottom of the pan. They should be darkening. DO NOT STIR, just keep an eye on things. I like to take the ghee off the heat when the solids are a dark golden brown, and the ghee itself is golden-yellow.

Place the sieve over the container. Slowly pour the ghee into the sieve and allow it to strain into the container. When the saucepan is empty, scrub it out immediately with some hot water and salt or baking powder. The salt will help release the solids from the pan without ruining the seasoning.

Allow the ghee to cool without putting the lid on the container. If you put the lid on while the ghee is still hot, you'll get condensation that will fall into the ghee and contaminate it.

Once the ghee is cool, cover and store in a cool dry place. I keep mine right on the counter, ready for use.

One pound of butter (16 ounces) will give you about 12-14 ounces of ghee, depending on the quality of the butter. Unsalted butter crackles less and generally is smoother than the salted variety. I usually make 2-3 pounds of ghee at a time, more if I know I'll be doing some baking. It takes about 30-45 minutes to make from start to finish, depending on quantity.

You can also make ghee in the oven or in a slow cooker, but I've never tried those methods. A google search will probably yield plenty of recipes using those techniques.

Ghee is delicious, nutritious and worth the small effort it takes to make it. Give it a try and let me know how it turns out. :)

It isn't very often that I share my personal recipes with people. By 'personal' I mean my cache of blood type receipts, carefully created and culled from all sorts of sources and treasured for the health and great taste they bring to my life every day.

Eating right for your type is about as far from mainstream cooking as you can get without turning to raw foods or veganism. The focus is on foods that help your body heal, guided by research on what creates and sustains health for your blood type and what doesn't. The big surprise (for me anyway) was finding out healthy food can taste fantastic. This recipe is a good example.

I LOVE carrot cake. It's been my favorite birthday treat for many years. But most carrot cakes are a disgrace to the name. Insipid, bland, dry, overly sweet, overwhelmed by sickeningly sugary frosting, they're simply awful.

A couple of years ago I set out to reclaim carrot cake from the clutches of the modern addiction to uber-sweetness and over-processing. This is the result. It is positively orgasmic. Rich, textured, earthy, dense, moist, fragrant; this cake will blow your mind. Strong words, but I stand by 'em. I've made this recipe for non-Blood Type Dieters and watched their eyes widen in shock and delight as a myriad of flavors romped naked with wild abandon through their taste buds. THIS is what healthy eating should be about: deliciousness, created from the best ingredients and made with joyous intent.

A few notes:

~~Use full size carrots and just wash them, don't peel them. You can also substitute parsnips. Both give the cake a lovely subtle earthy sub-note that compliments the sweet spices and nuts.

~~If you can get black walnuts, please use them. They have a strong taste that doesn't get lost amid other assertive ingredients. Hazelnuts or pecans are interesting substitutes.

~~Ghee gives this cake a lovely mellow, nutty flavor that cannot be duplicated by butter or oil. I make my own ghee, it's ridiculously easy. I'll post a recipe after posting this entry. Trust me--it's worth the small extra effort. Ghee is wonderful stuff and it's good for you too.

~~If you cannot find agave syrup or you don't care for it, you may substitute honey, brown rice syrup, or maple syrup. (NO CORN SYRUP--it's way too uniformly sweet and swamps the other flavors completely, not to mention being bad news health-wise for every blood type.) Substitutions will affect the flavor of the cake, but in a positive way.

~~I prefer gluten-free flours for this recipe. You can use spelt, oat, white rice, or amaranth flour with good results. If you wish to use 'regular' flour please do so. Remember that overbeating any version of this recipe, gluten-free or not, will result in a tough, flat cake.

~~I stay away from commercial cream cheese because it contains gums that make me ill. Chevre is a wonderful substitute; it's deliciously tangy and rich and is my all-time favorite. Here is the secret to a successful carrot cake: do not make the frosting into a sugarbomb that disguises the taste of the soft cheese and ultimately, the cake below. It should be light, tangy and slightly sweet, with a hint of fresh lemon. Trust me on this.

~~I like a spicy, peppery edge to my carrot cake, so I usually double the amount of ground ginger and add a dash of nutmeg as well.

~~This cake tastes better the next day. Letting it age a day or so is key. Cover and store someplace cool. The fridge is okay but if you have to refrigerate, take the cake out an hour or so before serving to allow the flavors to bloom a bit.

Experimentation is fun and brings all kinds of rewards, including the legitimate excuse that you have to extensively taste the results. Please feel free to play with this recipe. Make it yours, then give it away to someone else and see what they do with it.

Brighid's Carrot Cake

1 cup/110 grams walnuts or black walnuts, toasted and coarsely chopped

1 cup/110 grams raisins, zante currants, chopped dried figs, dried cranberries or black currants

3/4 pound/340 grams grated raw carrots OR parsnips (about 2 1/2 cups finely grated)

2 cups/280 grams brown rice OR other mild-tasting gluten-free flour (spelt, oat, amaranth, white rice, etc)

1 teaspoon/5 ml baking soda

1 1/2 teaspoons/app 7 ml corn-free baking powder

1/2 teaspoon/2.5 ml sea salt

1 1/2-2 teaspoons/ 7-10 ml Vietnamese cinnamon (cassia) OR allspice

1-2 teaspoons/5 ml ground ginger

dash nutmeg (opt)

4 large organic or yarded (free-range)eggs

1/2 cup/60 grams agave nectar OR sweetener of choice (honey, maple syrup, brown rice syrup, etc)

1 cup/240 ml butter or ghee, melted (can also use light olive or canola oil)
(you can cut back to 1/2 cup/160ml if you want a bit less fat in the cake, but don’t go lower than that or you will compromise the ability of the cake to rise)

2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract (optional)


Cream Cheese Frosting (optional):

1/4 cup/57 grams unsalted butter or ghee, room temperature

8 ounces/227 grams cream cheese, Neufchatel, or chevre, room temperature

sweetener to taste

1 teaspoon/5 ml pure vanilla extract (opt)

finely grated lemon zest of one lemon


How to make it:

Preheat oven to moderate/350F/180C/Gas Mark 4 and place rack in center of oven.

Butter two 9 x 2 inch (23 x 5 cm) cake pans OR one 9 x 13 inch (23 x 33 cm) cake pan. If you are making two layers, line the bottom of the pans with parchment paper.

If desired, toast the walnuts in a non-stick or lightly oiled heavy skillet for about 8 minutes or until lightly browned and fragrant. (If using black walnuts, watch them carefully so they don't burn or scorch.)Let cool and then chop coarsely.

Peel and finely grate the carrots. Set aside.

In a separate bowl whisk together the flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt, and spices. Set aside.

In bowl of electric mixer, with the paddle attachment, beat the eggs until frothy (about 1 minute). Gradually add the sweetener and beat until the batter is thick and light colored (about 3 - 4 minutes).

Add the melted ghee in a steady stream and then beat in the vanilla extract.

Add the flour mixture and mix just until incorporated. DO NOT OVERBEAT or the cake will not rise properly.

With a large rubber spatula fold in the grated carrots and chopped nuts and fruits.

Evenly divide the batter between the two prepared pans (if you are using two pans) and bake 25 to 30 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. For one layer, bake for 30-35 minutes.

Remove from oven and let cool on a wire rack.

If you are making two layers: after about 5 -10 minutes invert the cakes onto the wire rack, remove the pans and parchment paper, and then cool completely before frosting. To assemble: place one cake, top side down, onto your serving plate. Spread with about a third of the frosting. Gently place the other cake, top of cake facing up, onto the frosting, and spread the rest of the frosting over the top of the cake. If desired, garnish with toasted nuts. Cover and refrigerate any leftovers.

Frosting:

In bowl of electric mixer, with the paddle attachment, beat the cream cheese and butter on low speed until very smooth with no lumps. Gradually add the sweetener and beat, on low speed, until fully incorporated and smooth. Beat in the vanilla extract and lemon zest.

Serves 10 - 12.

Back at last and ready to start baking! But first, a digression into breakfast territory.

Years ago I gave up oatmeal as a daily cold-weather food. It was hard, really hard. I love oats and oatmeal in particular. Not that nasty gummy instant stuff in packets that comes tarted up with a ton of sugar and disgusting artificial flavors; I mean REAL oatmeal, creamy, mellow and hot from the slow cooker (recipe to follow), best eaten the old-fashioned way with a bit of butter and a pinch of salt.

But grains are not good for me, not even my beloved oats. They spike my blood sugar and make my joints ache. I stop losing weight when I eat oatmeal too often. So I put away my 1-quart slow cooker and stopped buying oats.

A few months ago my friend Victoria mentioned that she eats oat bran in place of rolled or steel-cut oats. Since she is the source of much wisdom, it seemed a good idea to buy some oat bran and give it a try.

This morning I made a batch for breakfast. The result? Sort of a cross between cream of wheat and mellow oaty-ness. I added a bit of ghee and a sprinkle of sea salt. An hour later and there's no sugar spike or headache. I'm pleasantly full but not bloated. Excellent!

I won't go back to eating oats every morning, but it looks like oatmeal's okay for the weekend at least. What a treat!

If you want to make oats the old-fashioned way, give this method a try. My mother learned to slow-cook oatmeal overnight from her mother, who would set the covered pot on top of the hot-water reservoir shroud on their cookstove.

In a 1 or 1.5 quart slow cooker, using 1/3 cup of steel-cut or old-fashioned oats as one serving, add as many servings of oats as you want to make. For each serving, add 2/3 cup of ice water--as cold as you can make it without it actually being frozen. Stir everything together, add a pinch of sea salt if you like, plug in the slow cooker (put it on the LOW setting if you have settings to choose from), and let it cook all night. You'll wake in the morning to a hot breakfast with a fragrance that makes your tummy rumble (in a good way!).

(I haven't tried this with oat bran yet, but it should work just fine.)

This is a recreation of the original recipe. My mother's recipe card was destroyed in a flood a few years ago, but I've made these cookies so many times I can sorta kinda remember how to do it by rote.

~~You may use blackstrap molasses in place of the dark molasses, but be aware your cookies will have a very strong flavor. If that's your thing, go for it. Blackstrap is awesome stuff and it's good for you too, chock-full of vitamins and minerals.

~~You will definitely need to use shortening here and not butter. Shortening keeps the cookies from spreading out into thin platter-sized crackers. If you're really opposed to using shortening, try a 50/50 blend of shortening and butter. The cookies will spread more, so make them teaspoonfuls instead of tablespoonfuls and watch carefully to make sure they don't burn.

~~The amount of flour may vary a bit according to ambient humidity. If the cookie batter seems too thin you can add a little more flour, but don't beat the batter too much or it will get tough. The consistency should be that of a stiff cake batter--thick and light--and the ripples from the mixer beaters or your spoon should still be visible in the top of the batter.

~~I use a lot of spice in these cookies, especially ginger. If you don't like things spicy, feel free to cut back. But not too much. Life is meant to make you sit up and take notice.

~~Also, make sure the water is as hot as possible without actually boiling--just taken from a boiling teakettle will work fine. When you add the soda it will fizz quite a bit. Just stir it in and add it to the batter.

This recipe is easily doubled.


2 1/4 cups sifted all-purpose unbleached or sprouted-spelt flour
2 teaspoons ground dried ginger
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon allspice (optional)
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup green label molasses
1/2 cup very hot water
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 scant cup shortening ('scant' means a little over 3/4 cup)
2 eggs

Preheat the oven to 375F.

Sift flour, spices, and salt together. Cream shortening and sugar until light and fluffy. Add eggs and molasses, beat well and add the flour mixture in small amounts, beating as you add it. Put the baking soda in the water, stir and add to the dough, mixing well. Drop by tablespoonfuls on ungreased or parchment-lined baking sheet. Bake at 375 degrees for 8-10 minutes. Glaze if desired. Store in a container or cookie jar with waxed paper between each layer. These cookies are best eaten within a few days of baking. Yield: 2 dozen.

Cookie glaze:

1 cup confectioner's sugar
enough vanilla extract to make a batter-like consistency

A minute or so after the cookies have been removed from the oven and are still hot, put a dollop of glaze on the center of each cookie and spread GENTLY with a knife. (The cookies will still be tender and will tear or break easily if you use too much pressure.) Allow to cool before placing in a container.

My mother passed away Monday evening.

Over the last day I've been remembering all sorts of things. Most of my memories involve Mom at the ironing board pressing her uniforms and cap while watching her soap (The Edge of Night, and Oxydol was the sponsor--I remember the commercials), or darning socks (this was the early 60s, after all), or listening to Artur Rubenstein playing Chopin Nocturnes while she cooked dinner and I did my homework at the dining room table. I vividly remember her completely absorbed in reading the latest novel, relaxing with her beloved crossword puzzles, or finding yet another book on art from the library to show me. Mom liked to tape great swathes of butcher paper to the wall so we could paint and draw anything and everything. We would have picnics in the living room on a cold snowy day, with a tablecloth spread over the carpet and a blanket tent overhead.

I also remember the two of us making her favorite recipe--Aunt Hattie's Soft Molasses Cookies--and Mom telling me stories of her own childhood. How Aunt Hattie was a courtesy auntie, one of many older women in the neighborhood who acted as unofficial babysitters, advice givers and caretakers. How she had figured out the recipe on her own because Aunt Hattie never used standard measures--it was 'a piece of butter the size of a hen's egg' and 'enough molasses to sweeten the dough'. How she learned that if you added in the hot water and baking soda at the very end, you got light, fluffy cookies that didn't spread all over the pan.

Often during prep we would talk about everyday things as well. Mom never talked down to me. She listened to what I had to say and treated me with respect. She encouraged me to think for myself, to question assumptions and find the truth in every statement. She shared her own experiences to help me grow and learn, and taught me to face adversity with grace, humor and perseverance. She had a wonderful dry, sarcastic wit and a fine appreciation of life's absurdities. Many times she would be reduced to tears of laughter when relating some ridiculous story she'd heard from a coworker or friend. I think the two of us laughed more together than we cried or argued, and that is a good memory to have above all the others.

But back to cookie-making. My favorite part of the whole process was to add in the spices. I would carefully spoon out mounds of cinnamon, allspice, and the best of all, ginger, and help Mom mix it into the batter. We would take surreptitious tastes, swiping our fingers along the rim of the mixing bowl, the mineral-sweet molasses and the burn of fresh spices tingling on our tongues.

When the first batch of cookies came out of the oven, it was my job to glaze them. You never covered the whole top of the cookie, just the center. The glaze, made of confectioner's sugar and vanilla extract, would cool and harden into a delicious thin cap that crackled and broke when you bit into it. The cookies themselves were dark and fragrant, about 3 1/2 inches across and an inch thick in the center, soft and a bit sticky from the copious amounts of molasses in the batter. My brothers could take two of them to school in their lunchboxes and trade them for anything their hearts desired.

We would make a double batch of several dozen, all carefully cooled and placed in the carousel cookie tin between layers of waxed paper to keep them from sticking together. The kitchen was always redolent of molasses and spice and the warm, clean smell of fresh baking. We would have one cookie apiece to celebrate another successful baking session, then move on to making dinner. The cookies would last until my brothers depredations emptied the tin, usually within a day or so.

We baked many other things over the course of years: loaves of bread, pies, cakes, crackers, you name it. But my favorite memory will always be of Mom stealing a bead of Brer Rabbit Green Label molasses from the lip of the jar and savoring the sweetness.

Rest in peace, Mom. It was great being your daughter this time around. I look forward to seeing you again. Love you.

Constance Helen Bramble, 1921-2009

We have our first real fall nor'easter coming in today. I love nor'easters. True, they bring rain or snow and wind, they make getting out and about a treacherous, miserable business, and they usher in bleak grey days. And they make me ache like a bad tooth. But cold, blustery days also mean warm sweaters and thick blankets on the bed--and hot steaming soup, the first batch of the season.

It's become a sort of tradition in our household to make squash soup for the night of the first autumn nor'easter. Here is the recipe we've developed over the years. It's a kitchen witch kinda thing--a pinch of this, a handful of that. Aside from a few basics, you can vary this recipe in all sorts of ways and still come out with a delicious result.

Classic Nor'Easter Squash Soup

1 large winter squash (butternut, buttercup, hubbard, etc)
3-4 medium carrots
1 large onion
1 large OR 2 small tart-sweet apples (such as Gala or Macintosh)
1-2 cloves garlic, minced
1 T. fresh grated ginger OR
spices/herbs as desired
olive oil
water
milk, evaporated milk, rice/nut milk OR
stock (chicken or vegetable work best)
1 c. fried crumbled or chopped sausage and some of the pan drippings (optional)

Roast or simmer the squash, carrots, onion and apples as you prefer:

If roasting, peel, seed or core and chop the ingredients into one-inch chunks, place in a single layer on a foil-lined roasting pan and brush with olive oil. Roast at 350F one hour.

If simmering, prep ingredients as above, place in a stockpot or dutch oven, add enough water to cover the bottom of the pot to a depth of one inch, and bring to a boil. Turn down to low heat, cover pot and let simmer until ingredients are tender, about 10-15 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Once the ingredients are roasted or cooked through, add the garlic, ginger or seasoning of choice and pulse in a food blender or with an immersion blender until as smooth as desired. Return to stockpot or dutch oven. Add in milk or stock and stir until the soup is the consistency you like. Add in sausage and some of the pan drippings. Over low heat, allow the soup to heat through. DO NOT BOIL.

Serve with hot crusty rolls or grilled cheese sandwiches.

Okay--fairly basic recipe, yes? But you can make as many variations as there are ingredients in your fridge or on your counter.

~~You can use frozen squash if fresh is not available or is too expensive. It's also easier than cutting up a large hard-shelled squash, which can be dangerous (and I've got the scars on my fingers to prove it). I'm not a snob; a little convenience is okay, a lot is even better as long as it doesn't interfere with the quality of the end result.

~~Pumpkin is a great substitute, fresh or canned. It makes a slightly darker, richer soup, a little sweeter too. If you're using canned pumpkin, make sure you get the non-sweetened/spiced kind.

~~Add in a sweet potato. You'll get a yummy hit of mysterious spiciness and subtle sweetness. It's a much better way to enjoy sweet potatoes than smothering them with marshmallows and sugar, sugar, sugar.

~~In place of the ginger, try some garam masala or chili powder, ground cumin and a pinch of red pepper flakes for a bit of heat. If you want sweeter spices, cinnamon and nutmeg make a good blend.

~~Just before serving, swirl some cream or a little Greek yogurt into the soup. The first gives a mellow contrast, the other a tangy-sour one.

~~If you're adding in the sausage, forgo the milk base and use stock instead. Sprinkle a few toasted fennel seeds into the pot, along with a tablespoon or two of the sausage pan drippings. This makes a more rustic, hearty soup (it's my favorite). I use Bolton Farms turkey sausage and it's fantastic--much more flavorful and leaner than pork sausage.

~~A pinch of grated sheeps-milk pecorino romano cheese on top of each serving adds a little hit of tangy sharpness.

However you make it, it's even better the next day!

I sold two muffins before even walking in the door this morning!

I went in very early and was the first person there. A coworker came in right behind me, saw the pan full of goodies and said "I'll take two of whatever you've got!"

The blueberry muffins were definitely the most popular, they sold out almost immediately. I'm going to make them again this weekend, but use a somewhat different recipe. And different pans. I can get large-size aluminum-foil muffin pans at the store. By using paper cups I can re-use the foil pans for quite some time, until I can get new permanent pans.

Several people very generously didn't take change when they put in a dollar and bought just one muffin, so the total is a bit more than expected:

'seed' money in envelope: $6.00 (in coin so people could make change)

total amount: $12.00

number of muffins sold: 9 (= $4.50 @.50/ea)

An extra $1.50 in the envelope for a total profit of $6.00! High finance, well, maybe not--but it's a good start, and a pretty decent outcome for a dozen innocent little muffins.

Baking muffins is not as simple as you might think. I knew that going in this evening and had everything set up as far ahead as possible, because time is of the essence when you're making quickbreads. The initial leavening--bubbles of carbon dioxide gas created by the chemical reaction of part of the leavening agent with an acid--works very fast. You've got to get the batter into the baking pan and then the oven so you don't lose that nice first rise.

What does this have to do with size?

I've got an old muffin pan. It's done yeoman work over the years, it's nicely seasoned, and it's light enough so it doesn't strain my weak wrists. But it's simply not deep enough to make the big muffins I'd like. The recipe I used is for big poofy muffins with high crowns. When I put the batter into the greased cups, it stuck up above edge by a good half inch.

Both batches of muffins came out well, but they didn't rise as high as they could have because there was no room for them to do so. If I'm going to do this on a regular basis, I'll have to get new muffin pans. I suspect my kitchenware is going to be replaced piece by piece while this bake sale is going on. That's not at all a bad thing, but there are so many choices out there I get overwhelmed. Still, I'll find the right pans somewhere.

At any rate, the blueberry muffins look really good. I used a spatula to blend the berries into the batter as suggested at the KAF site, and they didn't break! No bluish-grey batter! The cinnamon muffins are an unknown quantity at this point, though they look okay. The filling was too thick to swirl properly. I think next time I'll stick with my old filling recipe, it's lighter and easier to manipulate.

One dozen muffins will go with K to a retirement luncheon tomorrow. The other dozen will go with me to work, along with a spiffy sign and an envelope with some change. I've already put a little protective spell on the money and the muffins to prevent five-finger discounts. I'd debated on bringing two dozen, but it's better to bring a little less than you need in the beginning--always leave them wanting more. Later you can bake in quantity and be assured it'll sell, because people will know from experience that you're a good baker.

Fingers crossed!

Yes, I know we're well into peach season here in Bucks County, with apples beginning to show up here and there (Lodis are usually the first early-season variety in this area) and pears not far behind. But you have to understand, there are childhood memories involved:

standing under a blazing midwestern sun, waist-deep in loaded bushes, picking for all you're worth as sweat stings your eyes and heat fries your brain; the mingled scents of warm meadow grasses and bug repellent; the rustle of wind high in the treetops, too far up to give you any relief, and the drone of cicadas, a sound that always makes a summer day hotter; the taste of a freshly washed berry exploding on your tongue, sweet and tart; the knowledge that Thanksgiving and Christmas pies, wintertime muffins, and bowls of dried-blueberry granola with milk and brown sugar lie in your future . . . Nothing can compare. Blueberries are like Salmon, the Fish of Wisdom: eat them and you will find health, knowledge and (in the case of just the berries, here's hoping) the awesome terrorizing power of a blue tongue.

I bought Michigan blueberries at a favorite little grocery store where good bargains can still be had. Local berries are mostly played out at this point, and I needed a couple of pints to make muffins to sell at work. Frozen berries are okay, but I like buying fresh fruit in season as long as possible, even if it means cheating on the 'buying locally' rule on occasion.

The recipe I'm going to use creates those nice big muffins you see in the bakery. The secret is to grease the top of the pan as well as the baking cups, so the tops don't stick. One batch of muffins will be blueberry, the other will be cinnamon swirl. I'm competing with Dunkin Donuts--they just put out a flyer with pretty decent coupons--but I think proximity to the sacred coffee altar and the lure of homemade freshly-baked goodies will prevail. And I'm only charging 50 cents a pop. Fingers crossed.

Here's the link to the recipe I'm using:

http://www.kingarthurflour.com/recipes/fancy-department-store-muffins-recipe

Encouraging results at work today!

I took two of the cinnamon bread loaves, sliced them up and put them in a nice container with a tub of homemade honey butter spread, and took them to work. Since they were an experiment that didn't really turn out--the cinnamon didn't swirl in the bread the way it was supposed to--I decided they would be the giveaway, the libation to the Mother that will kick off the start of the Abundance Bake Sale.

Why the name Abundance, beside the obvious reason?

K used to work with David Palladin years ago. He told her a story she shared with me a while back:

The Pueblo people were enduring a bad drought. They decided they would have a dance to bring on the rains. All the women in the village would bare one breast, and each man would kiss each breast as they passed by. At the end of the story David said, "Y'know, we could have had a bun dance."

Baking as a dance of plenty--that feels right. And I love the mental image of a whole village of people shaking their buns to bring on the rain.

But (haha) I digress. Took the loaves to work and set them up on the sacred coffee stand, displayed oh so temptingly. Half an hour later, people were slipping away to sneak in and grab a slice of bread. At break they hung around the table like starving August yellowjackets, munching and stealing another slice out of the container and asking 'Is it someone's birthday today?' By the time I left at noon, only two forlorn slices were left, and I was able to give them loving (if temporary) homes. The office ladies thanked me for bringing in goodies and asked for the recipe. The young guys wanted to know if this was going to be an everyday thing. Everyone else just ate as much as they could get away with. Success on all fronts!

Tomorrow I'll put up a sheet letting people know next week I'll be bringing in muffins to sell. The sheet will have several flavor choices, so I'll know what they want me to bring in.

Looks like Abundance is on its way!

This is taken from the book Artisan Bread in 5 Minutes A Day, by Jeff Hertsberg and Zoe Francois (Thomas Dunne Books/St. Martin's Press 2007, ISBN-13: 978-0-312-36291-1, ISBN-10: 0-312-36291-9).

Basic Challah Dough recipe: (this is easily halved or doubled and makes 4-1 lb loaves, or about 3 batches of cinnamon rolls)

1 3/4 cups lukewarm water
1 1/2 tablespoons granulated yeast (1 1/2 packets)
1 1/2 tablespoons salt
4 large eggs, lightly beaten
1/2 cup honey
1/2 cup unsalted butter, melted, plus more for greasing the pan
(you can substitute a neutral-tasting oil like canola, but your dough will spread more)
7 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

Cinnamon filling:

1 tablespoon Vietnamese cinnamon
1/4 cup sugar
4 tablespoons butter, softened
1 tablespoon Clearjel or cornstarch (optional)
enough water to make the filling the consistency of peanut butter
milk for brushing the dough

Mixing and storing the dough:

1) Mix the yeast, salt, eggs, honey, and melted butter with the water in a 5-qt bowl, or in a lidded (not airtight) food container.

2) Mix in the flour without kneading, using a spoon, a 14-cup capacity food processor (with dough attachment), or a heavy-duty stand mixer (with dough hook). If you're not using a machine, you may need to use wet hands to incorporate the last bit of flour.

3) Cover (not airtight), and allow to rest at room temperature until the dough rises and collapses (or flattens on top), approximately 2 hours.

4) The dough can be used immediately after the initial rise, though it is easier to handle when cold. Refrigerate in a lidded (not airtight) container and use over the next 5 days. Beyond 5 days, freeze in 1-pound portions in an airtight container for up to 4 weeks. Defrost frozen dough overnight in the refrigerator before using. Then allow the usual rest and rise time.

(The following instructions are a combination of ideas from several sources, including Artisan Bread.)

On baking day:

5) Butter or grease a 9x9" pan or line with parchment paper or a silicone mat. Dust the surface of the refrigerated dough with flour and cut off a 1 1/2-pound (cantaloupe-sized) piece. Dust the piece with more flour and quickly shape it into a ball by stretching the surface of the dough around to the bottom on all four sides, rotating the ball a quarter-turn as you go.

6) With a rolling pin, roll out the dough to 1/8-inch thick rectangle. As you roll out the dough, use enough flour to prevent it from sticking to the work surface but not so much as to make the dough dry.

7) Cream together the butter, sugar, cinnamon, Clearjel and water. Using a pastry brush, brush the dough with milk. (This helps the filling stay in place.) Spread the filling evenly over the rolled-out dough to within 1/2 inch of the long edges. Starting with the long side, roll the dough into a log. (Roll loosely; if you roll tightly the centers will pop up during baking.) If the dough is too soft to cut, let it chill for 20 minutes to firm up.

8) With a very sharp serrated knife, cut the log into 9 equal pieces (easiest way: cut into thirds, then cut each piece into thirds) and arrange in the pan. Cover loosely with a flour-sack tea towel or plastic wrap and allow to rest and rise 1 hour (or just 40 minutes if you're using fresh, unrefrigerated dough).

9) Twenty minutes before baking time, preheat the oven to 350F. If you're not using a stone in the oven, 5 minutes is adequate.

10) Bake about 40 minutes, or until golden brown and well set in center. Let cool a few minutes, then glaze if desired with some confectioner's sugar mixed with a little milk or vanilla extract.

So.

Got up at 0600. Put on the regalia--hairnet (I tend to shed), apron, lint roller (cat sheds too). Took out the towels and equipment, washed the board and pans and rolling pin and put on the stockinette (a cloth sleeve for the pin to keep dough from sticking). Made the cinnamon filling. Then the first batch of dough was taken, with great difficulty, out of the overflowing dough bucket in the fridge.

It was beautiful stuff--satiny smooth, springy, fragrant. And soft. So soft it stuck to everything--my hands, the board, even the stockinette. I used as little flour as possible to keep the dough from becoming too dry, but had to give in finally and substantially flour the board and the pin. The dough didn't stick after that, but now it would hold no shape whatsoever. I'd roll it out, it would spring back into a nice soft ball and give me a neener neener, daring me to try again. I had to literally pin the dough down at the corners with measuring cups to keep it flat. It sounds dire, but I was laughing the whole time, it was simply hilarious. You had to be there, I guess.

After the cinnamon spread was put on, the dough was rolled and cut. Actually, mangled would be a better description. I did my best to not crush the roll, but it simply sank down and flattened out with the least pressure of the knife. I managed to get twelve slices into the pan to rise, then sat down and considered plan B. In baking you'd better have at least three other plans ready to go in case plan A doesn't work out.

I could not see myself struggling with this dough to make four more batches of what looked to be the ugliest cinnamon rolls on the planet. Plan B: cinnamon swirl bread. I took the rest of the dough and made four loaves with a substantial swirl in each. It was still difficult to get the damn things to roll out, but it wasn't as crucial to get a thin layer so there was less need to brutalize the dough. I put the loaves to rest and rise on the board while the rolls baked.

Forty minutes later, the first batch was done. The rolls were simply enormous--a good two inches above the top of the pan (close to four inches tall all told), oozing with cinnamon and smelling like heaven. I gave them a thin glaze after they'd cooled for a few minutes, then cut one out of the pan, put it on a plate and handed it to K, the designated taster. Immediately it was clear these were without a doubt the best rolls I've ever baked in my entire life: light as a feather, long-flaked, tender, soft crumb, and fabulous spicy-sweet filling spilling over it all. K took a bite. She is my acid test for all things baked, because she is not a bread-eater. When her eyes closed and a little smile curled up the corners of her mouth, I knew it was the best of signs.

I'll be honest--I gave in and had one (ooh, gonna pay for that *sigh*). Sweet Mother India, the taste--the TASTE! Absolutely perfect, and that is no exaggeration. The roll was not sweet at all, just rich enough to set off the explosion of cinnamon and sugar filling on the tongue. The tops were lightly browned but not hard, the caramelization adding to the mellow, wheaty, homemade flavor. Glazing made them totally decadent, but the rolls really didn't need it.

All in all, an unqualified success despite the change to plan B. I know what went wrong--I measured the flour incorrectly. The master recipes call for the flour to be dipped and leveled off, not sprinkled into the cup. It sounds like a small thing but sprinkling gives you less flour because it adds more air, just as sifting does. Also, it was just too warm to work a sticky dough like this one. Our kitchen is not air-conditioned and it's a sultry muggy morning, with Hurricane Bill off the coast pushing back a cold front from the midwest. Live and learn.

But when the weather cools, things will be different. This recipe's a blue-ribbon winner! I'm definitely making this one again! Man, the prizes I could get for those rolls at the county fair back home . . .

I'm off to take a nice cool shower now. I'll post the recipe later today so you can give it a try too, if you like.

The first batch of sweet dough is mixed and rising!

The recipes in Artisan Bread are for wet doughs that can be kept in the fridge for several days to two weeks. It's supposed to be no-knead, but I think that's mainly for people using a mixer with a dough hook. I had to work the last two cups in by hand. But that's okay, kneading is a pleasant pastime and a good way to learn the character of the dough.

I used a challah recipe, with eggs, melted butter and a small amount of honey. That makes a rich, sticky dough that will complement the cinnamon filling and not compete with it. It can be used immediately after the initial rise, but it'll be easier to roll out after it's been in the fridge overnight.

Tomorrow morning I'll take 1 1/2 lbs of dough (a chunk about the size of a cantaloupe) and roll it into a 10 x 15" rectangle, brush the dough with milk, spread the cinnamon filling to about 1/2 inch from the edge, and roll loosely. (If you roll too tightly the centers will pop up when they bake.)Then I'll cut 12 slices with a serrated knife dipped in hot water between cuts, and lay them in a buttered baking pan. One batch will be baked right away (after rising) as a test--K's going to taste them for me, what a rotten job. Leftovers will be sliced in quarters and kept as samples for people to try. Two more batches get rolled out and go back into the fridge to be baked Monday, destined for my workplace breakroom.

When the rolls go into the oven, I'll pin some strips of terrycloth soaked in ice water around the outside of the pan. The wet strips keep the rolls on the edges from baking too quickly and getting hard. Once they're done and cooled a bit they'll be glazed with a thin mixture of confectioner's sugar and vanilla extract. No thick, gooey, sickening-sweet slabs of sugar to ruin the spicy-rich taste!

Tomorrow will be the big test, but just from the way the dough smells now, these rolls are gonna be a winner.

My order from King Arthur Flour came today. What a blast opening the box to find loads of goodies! Better than Christmas morning--lots of wonderful things, and all to be used for the first big batch of treats!

I'm headed to the library in a few minutes to pick up the second part of the beginning--a book called Artisan Bread in 5 Minutes a Day. I understand the principle behind this book very well. You make a large batch of dough, you keep it in the fridge, and use it as needed to make whatever you want to make. It streamlines the process immensely because you're not forced to take an entire day to make dough, wait for it to rise, knead and shape it, sit through another rise, and baking. It should work very well to make a quick batch of whatever to take to work and sell. Believe me, nothing racks up sales better than something right out of the oven, still warm and fragrant and oozing with lusciousness.

So I've got till Friday to get cleaning finished up and make sure I've got everything needed to make a pan or two of light, tasty cinnamon rolls, since they are first on the list.

I can hardly wait to start!

I just finished reading The True History of Chocolate, by Sophie and Michael D. Coe (1st edition, Thames & Hudson 1996, ISBN 0-500-28229-3). It's a good read, a little on the dry and scholarly side, a bit flawed by some prejudices and dated facts (haven't read the new 2nd edition yet so they may have updated things), but all in all, worth recommending. A couple of interesting tidbits:

~~The Olmec and then the Maya probably discovered and used cacao long before the Aztec did.

~~Until fairly recently in chocolate's long history, it was a drink, not a solid food. It was used in ground, roasted powder or tablet form with various seasonings and flavorings, and generally not a sweet drink (though the ancient Maya probably used honey to sweeten at least one of their recipes). Chiles and chili powders were popular additives with Mesoamericans. (If you have never had cocoa or chocolate with a chili addition, try it. The combination of chocolate intensity and afterburn is perfection.) Baroque Europe preferred jasmine, ambergris and cinnamon as additives, along with adulterants like potato starch, burned bread crumbs, red lead, and brick dust. A pot of chocolate in Samuel Pepys' day was thick, intense, gritty and bitter--about as far from modern cups of watery, sugary, pale packet cocoa as can be imagined, most likely.

~~The Maya made a thick layer of froth--then and now, considered the best part of the traditional drink--by pouring the chocolate from one pot to another. Molinillos, or wooden beaters, weren't in use until the Spanish Colonial period and afterwards. It was necessary to beat the chocolate not just to create the foam, but to incorporate the cocoa butter which tended to float to the top. Modern de-fatted cocoa powder hadn't been invented yet.

There are two types of unsweetened cocoa powder available: raw, and 'dutched'. Dutch-process cocoa has had an alkalizing agent added to it to neutralize the natural acidity. It's darker and milder in flavor than raw cocoa.

As for chocolate . . . well, you can go from a cheapo hollow Easter bunny or Christmas Santa with a fairly low percentage of cocoa solids mixed with a lot of sugar and ersatz vanilla and wax and palm oil, to chocolate made in artisan batches with a high percentage of cocoa solids and butter, and find hundreds of variations and tastes in between those two extremes. As far as I'm concerned, whatever you like is fine. Chocolate snobbery is just that. Half the fun of eating chocolate is finding out what tastes right to you. Such a tough job, sampling choco-goodness.

Still, there are two words which make a big difference in the cocoa and chocolate you buy, and they have nothing to do with taste or composition. Those words are 'fair trade'.

It is an unfortunate fact that slave labor, in particular child slave labor, is being used to grow cacao, particularly on the Ivory Coast. If you want to learn more, google 'chocolate slave labor' or 'fair trade'.

I will not in good conscience use slave labor cocoa or chocolate in baked goods dedicated to raise funds to help children. Therefore, I've cleaned my cupboards and this week will purchase my first fair-trade cocoa. I'm buying raw cocoa from Dean's Beans, if you're interested in an example of a company working with small farmers to ensure fair prices, better working conditions and no exploited children.

http://www.newdream.org/marketplace/deanscocoa.html

My preferred cocoa is a 1:1 homemade blend of dutch-process and raw, much like the 50/50 blend sold by King Arthur (great minds think alike!). It makes a very intense, well-balanced cocoa for just about any recipe. My next purchase-- dutch-process cocoa--will be from Sweet Earth Chocolates.

http://www.newdream.org/marketplace/sweetearth.html

As for chocolate, I'm not a Hershey or Mars/M&M fan, they're too sugary for me and both companies use chocolate purchased from slave labor farms in some if not most of their products. I like my chocolate dark, a little bitter and very intense. Dagoba's Dark Moon bar is a favorite. Anyway, I've just started researching fair trade chocolate and along with new (to me) cocoa discoveries, and will post anything good here to share.

Just a quick note: initial donation went off to Project Edan today! Yippee! The first of many!

I'm fortunate enough to live in an area with plenty of farmers selling local produce, meats and dairy. In the last couple of years the number of people raising free-range chicken and eggs has grown. I buy mine from Happy Farm in Kintnersville. (They're listed at www.localharvest.org, if you're interested in finding out more about them.)

If you have never had an egg from a hen allowed to live in a truly yarded or free-range setting, you're missing out big time. They are as different from storebought battery-cage hen eggs as chalk is from cheese.

Yarded or free-range eggs tend to be brown eggs in all shades of brown from pale tan to chocolate, but you can also find light green, blue, and speckled, depending on the breed of chicken the farmer is raising. The shells are strong and thick; depending on how fresh the eggs are, the yolks are typically deep orange and stand up round and high when the egg is broken into a skillet or bowl. The whites don't spread all over when you cook them up for breakfast. And when you bake with them, the results are amazing--moist bread, cake or rolls that fluff up and have a wonderful mellow flavor and a beautiful pale yellow color from those orange yolks. Free range egg whites whip up higher and better than storebought too.

What causes the difference? A hen raised the old-fashioned way does what hens are supposed to do. She walks around her run or barnyard eating bugs, plants and bits of gravel. She gets plenty of exercise, sun and fresh air. She's given good quality feed to supplement the insects and greens she gets in the yard (or in the garden). And she lays her eggs according to the natural cycles of the seasons. In other words, she's happy, healthy and her needs are respected, and in return she lays eggs that are nutritious and delicious.

I'm not going to detail the dire conditions in which battery-cage hens live. Google or Wiki the phrase 'poultry farming' and you'll find plenty of details about what 'intensive' farming means for chickens (and food animals in general). Suffice it to say, what's done to hens in the name of profit results in quite a bit of physical and spiritual damage to the chickens, the planet and us too.

Want to know the best and fastest way to change the state of chicken and egg factory-farming? Vote with your dollar. Money talks and the other stuff walks.
Remember that when you're at the supermarket with 'eggs' on your shopping list. Within the neat rows of cartons in the dairy case sits the sad result of a lot of misery and unsustainable farming choices.

If possible, buy local eggs. Check sites like LocalHarvest to find a farmer near you, or make a trip to your town's farmer's market to see if anyone's selling fresh eggs. You can also ask your store's dairy manager about bringing in free-range or cage-free eggs. They will cost more; factory-farmed eggs are cheaper because they're produced in huge quantities under conditions that generally maximize profits, period. Small farmers using organic or yard/free-range techniques have high overhead costs with less income,so prices are higher. You get what you pay for.

Finally, here's a story to make you smile: a college student told me this anecdote years ago. She and her sister were out in the yard sunbathing one warm summer morning. Not too far away was the henhouse with a chicken run. Several hens were strolling around the run, doing what hens do--eating, clucking, scratching, and eating some more. The girls had a radio with them. At one point a commercial for Perdue chicken came on (Perdue's a well-known chicken mega-brand here on the East Coast, as big as Tyson is elsewhere).

"The minute those chickens heard that announcer they went crazy!" the girl told me. "They ran around the run flapping their wings and squawking, then they ran into the henhouse and wouldn't come out!"

I rest my case. ;)

I know what you're thinking. 'Just buy some at the store. Get over it.'

Welcome to the world of the wheat- and corn-free baker. Having to purge those foods from everything you eat leads you down dark, twisting pathways to places of arcane wisdom. In other words, I know how to make aluminum- and corn-free baking powder.

Most commercial baking powders are double-acting. Basically this means they have the elements to create two reactions generating gas bubbles, or leavening. Those little bubbles help your cookies, cakes and quickbreads rise. (In yeasted breads this is accomplished in part by the yeast beasties eating sugars and starch and creating little gas pockets that are held in place by strings of gluten. Didn't know you were eating yeast farts with that yummy bagel and shmeer, did you? See. Dark, twisting pathways = arcane wisdom.)

Baking powders generally consist of a starch, an alkaline agent, and one or more acid agents, such as cornstarch, bicarbonate of soda (baking soda), sodium aluminum phosphate, and monocalcium phosphate. The baking soda and the phosphates are the 'double-acting' part of the baking powder: the soda reacts in the presence of an acid, such as milk products, lemon juice, vinegar, etc., while the phosphates react to heat. Those reactions create the gas that makes the baked good rise, first in the mixing bowl and then in the oven. The cornstarch is present to add bulk to the powder (making it easier to use) and to keep it free-flowing.

What do you use in place of cornstarch and phosphates? There are at least two options on the first ingredient. You can replace the cornstarch with arrowroot, unless you're like me and allergic to it. White rice flour is my cornstarch replacement of choice. You can find it in most large supermarkets or Asian groceries. It's very much like cornstarch in texture--a fine, silky-soft tasteless powder. I use Bob's Red Mill brand. As for the phosphates, they can be replaced with cream of tartar.

Here's the basic recipe. It takes all of two minutes to make and is good for about six months if kept in a cool dry place. Make sure the baking soda is fresh. If the box of Arm & Hammer you've got sitting in your cupboard has been there longer than a year, put it in the fridge to absorb odors and get a new box.

1/2 cup cream of tartar
1/2 cup arrowroot or white rice flour
1/4 cup baking soda

Mix together well and store in a glass container; make sure you write the date you made it on the lid. Use as you would commercial baking powder in a 1:1 ratio (i.e., 1 teaspoon of homemade stuff to 1 teaspoon storebought). You can test it to see if it's still working: put one teaspoon in a glass of hot water. If it fizzes energetically, it's still good.

One caution: for all intents and purposes, this makes a single-acting baking powder. That means you'll get only one reaction, when the ingredients are mixed together. And that means you need to have your oven preheated and your pan ready to go. Time is of the essence. The longer you let your batter sit around, the more gas escapes and the less your baked good will rise. If your batter is fairly thick, this isn't really a cause for concern, but quick action will still give you a good leaven.

Why bother to use homemade baking powder? It's simple. Food should offer health along with wonderful flavor. Aluminum is bad news. Some studies have posited it may be a contributing factor in the development of Alzheimer's disease. Certainly it appears our bodies weren't meant to consume and process it. Why voluntarily add it to your diet?

Yes, there are aluminum-free baking powders out there. One of the easiest to find is Rumford's, and it's an excellent brand. I keep a can in the cupboard to use for thin batters that need double-acting leavening to accomplish a decent rise. Another excellent option for a single-acting aluminum-free powder is Bakewell Cream, offered through the KAF catalog. But I just like making my own baking powder. It's a way of adding a personal touch. That, and I'm a total control freak.

Healthy eating takes effort. Walking those dark, twisting pathways can be an exercise in frustration at times. But if you're persistent, if you're willing to keep going, you'll find that arcane wisdom waiting, with good health sitting right beside it.

This is the fun part!

I sat down and made out my shopping list this morning after cleaning. The first thing on the list: vanilla beans.

It's really simple to make your own vanilla extract. Definitely not cheaper than storebought, but at least you know what's in your own batch. Most commercial extracts are loaded with artificial flavor, color, and the ever-popular high fructose corn syrup. Two notable exceptions are the Frontier and Sonoma brands; I've used Frontier with excellent results. I'd like to try Sonoma's Vanilla Crush someday, it's in the KAF catalog and looks simply luscious. Still, it's just great fun to make and use your own extract.

The first thing you need is an alcohol base. Most people use vodka. My preference is for whiskey or bourbon. Whiskey makes a lovely strong dark vanilla that adds a wonderful dimension to anything you bake.

A wide-mouth quart canning jar works very well as an extraction bottle, but you can also use the fifth itself if you like. Stuff it full of whole vanilla beans. The more you put in, the stronger your extract will be. I use a minimum of one dozen beans and often sixteen to eighteen beans or more, depending on finances and the variety of beans you use. Pour the alcohol in to completely cover the beans and fill the jar, put on the lid, and store in a cool dry dark place.

The steeping/extraction process takes about six weeks. I like to gently shake the bottle once a day, but once or twice a week is sufficient. When the vanilla is ready take some of the beans out, slit them open and scrape out the seeds, then add everything back into the bottle. The seeds become tasty little flecks, the same kind you see in vanilla bean ice cream.

When the extract is used up, you can re-use the beans to make vanilla sugar or in potpourri. Just take them out of the bottle, let them dry and push them into a container of sugar, or break in pieces and mix with dried herbs and flowers.

Of course this means six weeks without homemade vanilla, but I've still got a bottle of Frontier extract in the cupboard and that will do for now.

It's a perfect day to clean an oven: cool, dry, sunny. I waited until K left the house for work, then got out the Magic Eraser and baking soda, with sea salt for backup on tough spots. I'd planned on using oven cleaner before my decision to go as green as possible with this project, but it's nasty stuff, a hazard to humans and environment alike. And besides, you can't use it with a gas oven. That was a total D'OH! moment on my part. Alcohol in cleaner + pilot light = BIIIIG BIG BIG BIG BOOMITY BOOM BOOM.

So. You make a paste with a little water and baking soda and apply it, with copious amounts of elbow grease and the help of the Magic Eraser, to crusty spots. A little dish soap will also help dissolve layers, but it's harder to clean up and tends to leave a residue. Coarse sea salt works nicely as a stronger abrasive and also helps release grease and baked on food.

An hour's worth of holystoning, and the oven is much improved. It's not spotless; only something really caustic will take off the hard-baked bits, and those bits have been there since God was a baby (well, twenty years at least). But it's a lot better than it was. I even learned how to replace the little clip that holds the temperature probe in place, woot :) Handy knowledge. A sheet of aluminum foil on the oven floor finished the job.

While I was up for it, I grabbed the Murphy's Oil Soap, a bucket and scrub brush. (I much prefer Dr. Bronner's lavender castile soap, but ran out the other day and haven't had a chance to get more.) The cabinet doors got a good cleanse and wipedown, as did the counters and backsplashes. I'd like to paint the cabinets and change out the hardware, which is a really ugly 70s-Mediterranean style, very dark with sharp corners that are hard on the knuckles. That's going to have to wait till cooler weather though. Semi-gloss paint does not dry well in muggy heat and today's weather is an anomaly for August. By tomorrow we'll be back to sweltering.

At any rate, things are looking much better. Next task is wiping out the drawers and getting them reorganized. I can do a drawer a day if necessary and combine that job with others. Fingers crossed, by the end of next week the last chore will be to clean and mop the floor and put down new mats, and the kitchen will be ready to set up for baking!

I don't have a digital camera, but I plan to get a couple of one-use cameras and take pictures to add to the photo gallery. You won't believe how small this kitchen is! Put two people at the sink and they're livin' in sin! But I like this little alcove kitchen. It has good vibes, just like the rest of the house. That makes for good cooking and baking.