MangiaMore: brown butter BLONDIES with salted speculoos frosting

RER 8.22.16

Summer just about slipped through my fingertips. The last weeks of steaming August melted, collecting and creating a pool at the feet of muggy September. There is a summer haze hovering over those last few weeks as so much happened in so little time; heat and excitement have clouded my memory…

RER 8.22.16

RER 8.22.16

But, in the midst of it all, was a sweet baking adventure with a great friend. It was just a little less hot, but just as sticky because brown sugar, brown butter, white chocolate chips, cookie butter, and a little too much frosting were involved.

RER 8.22.16

RER 8.22.16

RER 8.22.16

After speculation, we decided to make brown butter blondies with salted speculoos frosting found on Butter and Brioche. We knew these were going to not only be sweet, but also a mature play on the oh-so-delicious blondie.

RER 8.22.16

RER 8.22.16

Anything with browned butter is instantly kicked up a notch, and the sexiness goes through the roof. Browned butter brings maturity—burned notes that are round and intriguing. The walnuts in these blondies connected nicely with the rich flavor of the brown butter, while the white chocolate chips vanished, but traces of their sweetness remained, bringing a softer side of the browned butter out to play.

RER 8.22.16

RER 8.22.16

If that wasn’t enough, a thick layer of decadent cookie butter frosting, weeping with the late August heat, was smeared across the just-cool-enough blondies. The frosting was warmed with just a touch of cinnamon, but the cookie butter mimicked the brown sugar and butter patterns of the cookie-like blondie below.

RER 8.22.16

RER 8.22.16

The confection was fudgy and dense, an overdose of sugar that mellowed with refrigeration. Each bite tickled so many senses: the scent of browned butter and cinnamon emanated from each morsel; the sticky frosting that clung to fingers and lips and crunchy toasted walnuts, both with textures forcing feel and touch; the taste of caramel brown sugar spiked with fat chunks of sea salt heightened sweetness and added sophistication and refinement; the visual undulation of salt and sugar, monotone yet alluring.   

These blondies had it all— brown sugar, brown butter, white chocolate chips, cookie butter, and a little too much frosting.

RER

9.10.16

RER 8.22.16

MangiaMore: KALE caesar salad

RER 7.19.16

Another week, another obligatory meal preparation. It may seem like I did not fulfill my weekly duty last week, but I did (although there is no photo evidence to prove it); I made easy peasy tacos. This week was another low-key dinner. There was far less prep than the zucchini lasagna, less financial responsibility than shrimp tacos, and far less salsa than regular tacos. Instead, there was far more… kale.

RER 7.19.16

RER 7.19.16

For some reason, some strange reason, I was really yearning for a kale Caesar salad. Vegetables are not really my thing. I like them, but I do not long for them on the regular, like I would a cheeseburger, pizza, or a good old chocolate chip cookie. I eat salad, but mostly because I have to, and it is easy to pack up and carry to school (when there is school…). But I am going to go ahead and say, salad is not my ideal lunch, by far. But sometimes the desire for dark leafy greens arises, and you must give in, even if it seems counterintuitive.

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RER 7.19.16

So I did and forced this vegetal meal on my family. There are endless kale Caesar salad recipes out there in the great wide world of the internet, but I instantly gravitated towards one on Gimme Some Oven.  This kale Caesar salad recipe included equal parts kale and romaine (though, in reality, this did not happen; there was much more kale involved) and a homemade Caesar dressing with a secret ingredient…

RER 7.19.16

RER 7.19.16

Lime! Lime instead of the traditional lemon. And non-fat plain Greek yogurt, for all of the creaminess without the calories and fat of mayonnaise. And, anchovies (typical, but something I have never worked with before). Get this— went to the store and no anchovy paste. So I got some canned anchovies and put them in my baby food processor with my too big Parmesan and my too big garlic, made a paste and mixed up them ingredients. Perfecto!

RER 7.19.16

RER 7.19.16

Mixing mounds of greens in my almost too small salad bowl did not make nearly as much mess as putting it all together. But the stray kale leaves, soaked spinner, Parmesan strands, and slew of dirty dishes were so worth it. The Caesar dressing was unlike anything I have had before. It was missing that gloopy, heavy texture that weighs down the salad; instead, the dressing was light and softened the earthiness of the dark kale and brightened the flat crisp romaine. The lime in the dressing really made a difference, transforming the salad from a warming winter food, to a fresh side (or main, or whatever) for smoldering summer. It was addictive, with just enough chew and crunchy croutons.

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RER 7.19.16

RER 7.19.16

Plus, the leftovers will make for a great (no sarcasm) salad lunch.

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7.19.16

RER 7.19.16

MangiaMore: zucchini LASAGNA

RER 6.30.16

Because I am currently a lady of leisure—school’s out for summer— I have been given a charge, a responsibility, a duty: I must make dinner for my family at least once a week (emphasis on “at least”).  I am not going to say it is an honor, or even a pleasure, but it sure will be an adventure, experience, experiment, whatever you want to call it.

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RER 6.30.16

If you can’t tell by my blog and the foods that I make, I would call myself more of a baker than a cook. They say baking is a science, whereas cooking comes from passion and the soul. When baking a chocolate cake or whipping up some zucchini bread or even rolling out some bomb sugar cookies, there is an element of precision to the creation of these confections. Too much of something and not enough of something else can cause your dessert to fall flat. Must. Measure. Everything. But don’t get me wrong; there is plenty of room for creativity in baking. There is combining of flavors and playing with textures, the gamut.

RER 6.30.16

RER 6.30.16

Cooking, at times, has looser guidelines—a pinch of salt, a clove of garlic, pepper to taste, a pad of butter. It is about how the sauce smells when it is simmering on the stovetop, or how the eggs feel when scrambled in butter, or the give of the meat swimming in its juices. A little bit of this, and a touch of that, and some more of this, one more taste. Cooking might just take that intuition that I lack. If intuition is a part of human biology, then perhaps, cooking is science too.

RER 6.30.16

RER 6.30.16

RER 6.30.16

RER 6.30.16

To start my weekly endeavors, I found a tasty-looking Tasty recipe on Buzzfeed for some zucchini lasagna. I watched the Tasty (not to be confused with tasty) video over and over. As my sister would say, “my body was ready.” I was ready to make this noodle-less lasagna, but I was more ready to eat it.

RER 6.30.16

RER 6.30.16

Luckily, despite a stiff neck and a self-diagnosed strained thoracolumbar fascia, the recipe was pretty easy to bring to fruition. I measured everything, down to the salt, pepper, and olive oil but added a tiny flair of my own to the dish: red pepper flakes and mozzarella cheese. I was willing to sacrifice noodles, but not mozzarella cheese (nota bene: not all lasagna must have pasta, but all lasagna must have mozzarella). Using a vegetable peeler to make the zoodles was a chore, but delightfully destructive. Even though mozzarella was lacking from the recipe, I was happy to see that the ricotta was flavored with goodies rather than plopped right from the plastic container. A little salt goes a long way. Definitely.

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The results: a happy Mommie (because she did not have to cook), satisfied bellies, and one week of my cooking penance down. Stay tuned for my weekly, my at least weekly installments of dinner dishes.

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6.30.16

RER 6.30.16