I conquered one of my fears Wednesday. A fear that was so great it prevented me from seeing many delicious possibilities. A fear that I didn’t have the genes that are so evident in my paternal grandmother’s hand with biscuits, pies, cakes, and homemade doughnuts. The fear that I had not inherited a baking gene. Something I thought would forever have me going to bakeries to purchase what I was sure I could not make at home.

But friends, I baked a cake.

And no, it didn’t have the words Duncan Hines or Pillsbury on the box. Heck, it didn’t even come out of the box. I made it all from scratch using a bevy of ingredients, each singular and whole.

Oh, the frosting! The frosting was homemade too! It went so well that it gives me the confidence to try other baking techniques.

I must admit, though, that this recipe seemed fairly easy-peasy even for a beginner like myself. I am going to go slow, but I will conquer this fear. I haven’t quite decided what baked good is on my agenda next, but I am eyeing pizza dough or breads pretty intently. Meanwhile, shouldn’t you bake a cake too?

Coca-Cola Cake

from “Great Cooks of the South Entertain Southern Style” by the AJC

Cake ingredients:

2 cups granulated sugar

2 cups AP flour

1 1/2 cups mini-marshmallows

1/2 cup (1 stick) butter or margarine

1/2 vegetable oil

3 tbl. unsweetened cocoa

1 cup Coca-Cola

1 tsp. baking soda

1/2 cup buttermilk

2 eggs

1 tsp. vanilla extract

Frosting ingredients:

1/2 cup (1 stick) butter

3 tbl. unsweetened cocoa

6 tbl. Coca-Cola

1 16 oz. box confectioners’ sugar

1 tsp. vanilla extract

1 cup chopped pecans (optional)

Making the cake:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a bowl, sift together sugar and flour. Add marshmallows. In saucepan, mix butter, oil, cocoa and cola. Bring to a boil and pour over dry ingredients; blend well. Dissolve baking soda in buttermilk just before adding to batter along with eggs and vanilla extract, mixing well. Pour into a well-greased 9×13 inch pan and bake for 35 to 45 minutes. (I started checking it after 30.) Remove from oven and frost immediately.

Making the frosting:

Combine butter, cocoa, and cola in a saucepan. Bring to a boil and pour over confectioners’ sugar, blending well. Add vanilla extract and pecans (if using). Spread over hot cake. When cool, cut into squares and serve.

Out of all the Asian cuisines, I must admit that Chinese is my least favorite.

I heart Vietnamese, adore Thai, and worship at the clog-clad feet of Japanese, but Chinese has always left me cold for some reason. Perhaps it is because there is a great quantity of mediocre fried rice and pallid Kung Pao and very little quality. Chinese food is that sort of thing that I sometimes—and this is rarely—order because frankly I am already in my jim-jams and do not want to cook nor to exit the house in order to seek sustenance.  I sigh, wait to plunk down my $15 for gristly chicken lo mein and salty egg drop soup. When it arrives, I eat what I can (never very much) and leave the rest to rot in the fridge. I hate when I’ve felt I’ve wasted money.

Well, friends, I took it upon myself to create my own stir-fry the other night and I have to say: satisfaction guaranteed.  The recipe said you could add some protein to make it a more rounded main course dish so I added extra firm tofu. I sliced it into manageable chunks (about a 1 lbs worth) , carefully drained it, and then marinated it in some spicy stir-fry sauce I had lurking in my fridge. I marinated it for about 20 minutes or so because man alive is that stuff porous. After that I sauteed it in some canola oil in a piping hot skillet for about five to eight minutes until the edges were nice and crispy. Then I put it aside while I prepped and prepared the veggies. Oh yeah, I was going to put this over brown rice, but opted for jasmine instead. Fragrant and pillowy, it was the perfect bed for all this goodness.

I would like to say: “Never again!” to ordering Chinese takeout. But if ordering putrid Chinese is what I must do every now and again to sate a drunken craving—though pizza is really what I want when it comes to that–then it must be so. God forbid hot oil and my clumsy sodden self meet. Brrr.

Broccoli Red Pepper Stir Fry

1 tsp. olive oil

1 tsp. walnut oil (I used grapeseed)

2 large cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped

3 cups broccoli florets

2 tbl. water

1 large red bell pepper, washed, cored and cut into short strips

1 medium onion, peeled, cut in half and then into lengthwise slivers

3 green onions, chopped, white and light green parts only

the juice of one small lemon

1/2 tsp. salt

Prepare all ingredients before starting to cook. Heat oils in large skillet over high heat. Add garlic and saute only until slightly cooked; do not brown. Immediately add broccoli. Stir-fry continuously until all broccoli has turned to a bright green color. Add 2 tablespoons of wate, cover and remove from heat for 2 minutes. Return skillet to high heat. Add red pepper and onions. Continue to cook, stirring for another 2 to 3 minutes. (I went 5 so I could soften the onion a bit.) Vegetables will be crisp and brilliant in color when properly cooked. Toss with lemon juice and salt and serve.

p.s. I also added some nam pla (fish sauce) to the whole thing when I plated it up. I recommend it.

Warm weather. Oh thank you, Jebus, I was gettin’ worried.

So let’s start, shall we? First off, in order to celebrate the coming of real weather, I made a Southwestern salad involving a new grain for me: quinoa.

Quinoa is apparently considered more of a berry than a grain—hence it’s appeal for the modern Passover cook—but whatever you call it, it turned out real delicious.

The thing with quinoa is that it has a sort of resin coating it; a bitter protective dust that prevents it from being the food for insects or birds. So you have to rinse it—really rinse it—in order to get the funkiness off, but if you buy it boxed as you would at certain grocery stores, apparently they take care of that for you. I bought it bagged like dried beans at Whole Foods and rinsed it myself, all the while worrying if I had run under enough water, visions of ruined dinner dancing before my eyes.

The recipe I found in paper suggested a rice salad application, which sounded quite perfect. It came together nicely and when all was said and done, I found that quinoa is a nice change of pace. I still have enough dry grain/berry to use for some other recipe, and if you guys have any ones you like, let me know.

Southwestern Quinoa Salad

1 1/2 cups water

1/2 cup of mild or medium picante sauce

1 cup quinoa, rinsed well under cold water

1/2 tsp. cumin

1/4 tsp. salt

ground black pepper to taste

1 15 oz. can black beans rinsed and drained

1 1/2 cups fresh or frozen corn, cooked, drained, cooled

1 cup cherry or grape tomatoes, halved*

4 green onions thinly sliced

1 jalapeno pepper, seeded and finely chopped

1 tbl. canola oil

In a medium saucepan over high heat, combine the water, picante sauce, quinoa, cumin, salt and pepper. Bring to a boil, then reduce to medium, cover and cook until the liquid is absorbed, 15 to 20 minutes.

Remove from the heat and let stand 5 minutes. Uncover and toss with a fork. Transfer to a large bowl and let cool slightly.

Add black beans, corn, tomatoes, green onions, jalapeno and canola oil to the quinoa, tossing well to combine. Excellent a bit warm or room temperature.

Ah, sweet and savoury. I find most people are quite adamant about that sort of flavor combo, and I can be too, but most of the time, it works. (Other times, when it doesn’t, it really doesn’t.) And as always, I’m willing to give it a shot.

This dish was a big hit this week mainly for the fact it involves so little prep and frankly, it was probably one of the best things I’ve ever made. I recommend it for family gatherings or dinner parties with friends. A nice white wine white would go with this, or perhaps a nice stout German lager. Dishes like this remind me what I love about cooking; the simplest ingredients become something extraordinary.

I love spring. I love that I feel more alive and so does the world.

I apologize for the blurriness of the pic below. I’ve had this digital camera for nearly three years now and I don’t even know what half of what it does.

Of course, I used turkey kielbasa as I have this thing about certain types of meat. But the meatiness of the kielbasa, the tang of the mustardy sauce, and the sweetness of the apples was sublime.

Really, make this for someone you love. You’ll be rewarded by groans of pleasure and eye rolls of delight. I think the LSC would love this meal.

Noodles with Kielbasa, Cabbage and Apples

adapted from Time-Life’s “Great Taste, Low Fat”

8 oz. “yolkless” egg noodles

1 tbl. canola oil

1 onion, coarsely chopped

1 lb. kielbasa, cut into 1/2 inch rounds

2 cups fresh shredded cabbage

1 apple, cored and diced

1 cup low sodium chicken broth

1 tbl. cider vinegar

1 tsp. Dijon mustard

1 tbl. cornstarch

In a large pot of boiling water, cook noodles until just tender. Drain well. Meanwhile, in a large nonstick skillet, heat oil over medium heat until hot but not smoking. Add onion and kielbasa and cook until kielbasa is slightly browned, about 4 minutes. Add the cabbage, apple and broth and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to a simmer and cook until the cabbage is just tender, about 5 minutes.

In a small bowl, combine the vinegar, mustard and cornstarch. Add the cornstarch mixture to the skillet and cook until the liquid is slightly thickened, about 1 minute. (If you like it a bit more saucy, add more broth.) Transfer the kielbasa mixture to a large bowl and add the noodles. Toss to combine.

Morocco is one of those places I’ve always wanted to go to; of course, I mostly wanted to go because I liked the messed-up amalgam William Burroughs made of it in Naked Lunch.

(You have no idea how many times I’ve seen the film version. Partly because I have this weird thing for David Cronenberg, he of the masterful calmly psychotic voice, and partly again for Peter Weller, whose voice is none too shabby itself.) Anyway, since I’ve yet to go to Morocco or Tangier and experience the hashish or dark-eyed boys, this soup might be an acceptable substitute.

Mmm. Cinnamon: is there anything that it can’t make delicious? (It also saved my heinie when I made waffles the other morning and had to make a sweet topping on the fly.)

The key to making this sucker sumptuous are two things: spices and your handy-dandy immersion blender, i.e., a stick blender.  I have this thing about texture. Sometimes it works against my palate–calamari, mushrooms–and other times it’s very important. You don’t have to puree this soup–about 1/3 of it–but it makes a helluva difference.

Listen, I know the weather is getting warmer. But here in Atlanta, before the swelter of summer swings in, we are prone to procuring the possible unpalatable period. (Today I am big on alliteration.) So when the occasional chilly night creeps by, this soup will be your friend.

Of course, if you live in a place where it’s already fairly warm and likely to stay that way, it’s a good soup too because it isn’t heavy with cream or milk. The mouthfeel comes from your friend, the immersion blender.

Moroccan Chickpea Soup

2 Tbl. olive oil

1 small onion, chopped

2 cloves garlic, minced

1/2 tsp. cinnamon

1/2 tsp. paprika

1/2 tsp. ground cumin

1 pinch of cayenne pepper

1 15 oz. can diced tomatoes

2 15 oz. cans chickpeas, drained

3 cups vegetable broth

1/2 tsp. sugar

salt & pepper to taste

4 cups packed fresh spinach, thinly sliced

In a large pot, heat olive oil over medium-high heat. Add onion, garlic, and spices. Cook, stirring occasionally, until onions are translucent, about 5 minutes. Add tomatoes, chickpeas, vegetable broth and sugar. Simmer for 45 minutes. Remove from heat and use immersion blender to puree a little bit of it–about 1/3. You can use a food processor or blender, but be careful as soup is hot.

To serve, place a generous handful of spinach on the bottom of a bowl. Ladle hot soup over spinach.

Garlic. Lime. Chicken.

LSC here. Crossposting this to my blog, too. It’s been neglected of late, what with a tornado and all, but I’m getting back up to steam.

Last night’s spicy garlic lime chicken — modeled closely on this, but with a few modifications and a bit of improv — is the sort of thing that makes me wonder why people even go out to restaurants in the first place.

Got the basmati rice going in the rice cooker before I started prepping, and it dinged over at almost exactly the same time the chicken was done cooking.

Here’s the rundown:

* 3/4 teaspoon fresh-ground Himalayan pink salt
* 1/4 teaspoon fresh-ground black pepper
* 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
* 1/8 teaspoon regular paprika
* 1/8 teaspoon Hungarian paprika
* 1/4 teaspoon onion powder
* 1/4 teaspoon dried thyme
* 1/4 teaspoon dried basil
* 6 chicken thighs

* 2 tablespoons butter
* 1 tablespoon olive oil
* 1/2 garlic bulb, peeled and minced
* 3 tablespoons lime juice

DIRECTIONS

0. If you’re going to be serving this with something — rice, pasta, or potatoes — be mindful that this whole recipe takes about 30-45 minutes to complete, so if you don’t start cooking your sides before you start working on the chicken, you might get caught out.

1. In a small bowl, mix together all dry ingredients to make a spice mix. Sprinkle spice mixture generously on both sides of chicken thighs.

2. Heat butter and olive oil in a large heavy skillet over medium heat. Saute chicken until golden brown, about 6 minutes on each side. Add the minced garlic and lime juice. Cook until cooked through, turning frequently to make sure it all gets coated in delicious goodness.

Why the chicken thighs? Largely because I stopped at the store on the way home to get the lime juice, and there was a package at 50% off (at-expiry-date pricing). I also like the taste of chicken thighs; some people (including Kali) prefer breast but I find the thighs have a nice potent “chickeny” taste. I also like liver, and venison, so maybe “meaty” meat is my thing.

On the whole: wow. Even in the pan, I could smell this was going to be something special.

And once I got it on the table, on a nice bed of basmati rice with a glass of chilled white wine, it was spectacular..

This is — as many recipes are — a restaurant killer. About 45 minutes of work, pillar to post, and most of it spent on the phone with Kali, chatting as I cooked (and as she tidied up around her place). An easy recipe to assemble, and to clean up after (one pan, one spice mix bowl, the rice cooker and the eatin’ bowl).

And delicious. Jaw-dropping delicious. Lots of leftovers, too, now patiently biding their time in the freezer for those nights that I’m too busy to cook.