A riff

It's been two-and-a-half years since my first Tuesday's With Dorie post, and after hell and high water -- or, work and too many social engagements -- keeping me from fulfilling my TWD obligations every now and again, I've been back on track and, finally, it is my turn to pick this week's recipe from Baking: From My Home to Yours.
Since I first read about an online baking group attempting a recipe from Dorie's tome of tried and true breads, cakes, pies, and puddings each week then writing about their results along with the rest of the group, I've wanted to be a part of it. I figured that it would encourage me to bake more often, and bake things that I wouldn't normally choose to bake myself for whatever reason. In these last couple of years, I've learned that the moment Swiss buttercream comes together is a wondrous event, crystallized ginger can be revived through steaming, rugelach may be my favorite pastry, and the freezer is every baker's friend -- all valuable lessons that will serve me well in this lifetime.
As a relative late-comer to the group, and not the most diligent blogger, there weren't too many recipes left to choose from, however, my pick of Oatmeal Nutmeg Scones could not be more appropriate. That this is a scone recipe already has my name all over it -- I've proclaimed my love for them. And my coworkers can attest that my preferred breakfast of champions is a bowl of doctored-up oatmeal. Nearly every weekday morning, I heat up a bowl of old-fashioned oats and water on medium power for five minutes, along with chopped dried apricot, cherry, and whatever nut I have on hand, then finish it off with a puddle of soy or almond milk and generous dashes of cinammon and nutmeg. Nutmeg, oh, nutmeg. Oatmeal just isn't the same with out you. I'm liberal with the spice anytime a Dorie recipe calls for it, and even when it doesn't. There's a reason why I love my Microplane so much, and it has a lot to do with grating whole nutmeg.
Another wonderful, ingredients straight-out-of-the-fridge quick bread recipe, these scones are perfect for mornings when you aim to please but are short on time. The dough was noticeably more wet than the Maple Cornmeal Biscuits from last week, so cutting them into triangles and transferring them to the baking sheet was a bit messy (flouring a dough-cutter before each cut helps), but the resulting product was tender, buttery, and aromatic. The oatmeal added some heft to the pastry, so a couple of these would definitely hold me over until lunchtime, and they were a satisfying vehicle for rich, Kerrygold butter and vibrant, apricot jam as well. Oatmeal, nutmeg, apricot jam? substitute the buttermilk for almond milk, throw a handful of nuts in the dough and I think I've got my new breakfast of champions...

Oatmeal Nutmeg Scones
from Baking: From My Home to Yours by Dorie Greenspan

makes 12 scones

1 large egg
1/2 cup cold buttermilk
1 2/3 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/3 cups old-fashioned oats
1/3 cup sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
1 stick plus 2 tablespoons(10 tablespoons) cold unstaled butter, cut into small pieces

Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Line a bking sheet with parchment or a silicone mat.

Stir the egg and buttermilk together.

Whisk the flour, oats, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt and nutmeg together in a large bowl. Drop in the butter and, using your fingers, toss to coat the pieces of butter with flour. Quickly, working with your fingertips (my favorite method) or a pastry blender, cut and rub the butter into the dry ingredients until the mixture is pebbly. You'll have pea-size pieces, pieces the size of oatmeal flakes and pieces the size of everything in between -- and that's just right.

Pour the egg and buttermilk mixture over the dry ingredients and stir with a fork just until the dough, which will be wet and sticky, comes together. Don't overdo it.

Still in the bowl, gently knead the dough by hand, or turn it with a rubber spatula 8 to 10 times. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured work surface and divide it in half. Working with one piece at a time, pat the dough into a rough circle that's about 5 inches in diameter, cut it into 6 wedges and place on the baking sheet. (At this point, the scones can be frozen on the baking sheet, then wrapped airtight. Don't defrost before baking -- just add about 2 minutes to the baking time.)

Bake for 20 to 22 minutes, or until their tops are golden and firmish. Transfer them to a rack and cool for 10 minutes before serving, or wait for the scones to cool to room temperature.

In a crunch

When you've just barely gotten back from an 11-day trip to Asia...
When your internal clock is operating somewhere between Pacific and Taiwan/Hong Kong time...
When you've slept 12 hours and feel like you could sleep 12 more...
When you need a little not-too-sweet, buttery breakfast treat and are already late for work...

Then this is the thing to bake.



I've been running on fumes for the last 48 hours. 58 if you count the flight back to Los Angeles, and you should because getting a crick in your neck as you sleep upright really isn't sleep at all, and 82 if you count the minimal slumber from the night before as we tried to make our last night in Hong Kong count (and staying out until 5 or 6am is normal there). Surprisingly, I haven't been suffering from being wide awake at 4am like I would always be when I was younger. In fact, I've been sleeping way too much -- exhibit A being today's sudden realization that it was 9:17am, I should be at work at 9:45, but I still had to make this week's Tuesday's With Dorie pick by Lindsay of A Little Something...Sweet!

But these Maple Cornmeal Biscuits require none of the room-temperature eggs/milk/butter fuss that other baking recipes do. I simply rolled out of bed, preheated the oven, measured out the flour, cornmeal, baking powder, salt, and baking soda, waited for the oven to come to 425 degrees, and did that last minute cutting-in of the cold butter and incorporating of the milk and maple syrup before plopping the dough on a cookie sheet. It really was the simplest recipe.

By the time the biscuits emerged from the oven, I was ready to go, and threw them in towel-lined basket as Dorie suggested they be eaten hot anyway. I got to work with the craggy, golden mounds still warm to the touch. With a quarter cup of maple syrup being the only sweetener in the recipe, the biscuits went perfectly with a bit of jam, though not at all necessary either. The cornmeal provided a wonderful texture and was another kick in the head as to its amazing properties in baked goods. Those lingering grains in the finish of a bite get me every time.

An honest muffin.

Growing up in a household of four children, shopping trips to Costco were a given and an occasion to which my siblings and I always anticipated with excitement. My dad wouldn't always let us tag along, for fear we'd load the cart up with cookies, candy, and pastries galore, I'm sure, but the opportunities arose every once in awhile, and usually with only one kid at a time. We stocked up on such quality products as Kirkland Signature toilet paper, Nature's Valley granola bars, pallets of Yoplait yogurt, gallons of Minute Maid orange juice, and, of course, mens' briefs. Sometimes a tray of croissants would show up on the kitchen table when we came home from school (Costco croissants -- my, how far we've come...), but other times, it would be an assortment of mini-muffins. You know the ones -- chocolate chip, double chocolate, bran, blueberry, and my favorite, lemon poppy seed, packaged in fives with clear cellophane. They were perfect for throwing in our sack lunches, and we did. I can only hope I didn't devour them all myself, or in one sitting, though I wouldn't put it past my fifth grade self (kids must burn a lot of calories in P.E., right??)

I can't recall having been as big a fan of lemon poppy seed than when they came five to a pack. Given today's normal varieties of muffins, I feel a magnetic pull towards sour cream coffee cake muffins or the spiced options and lemon poppy seed is often shafted. This week, however, our Tuesdays With Dorie assignment was for my beloved mini variety, only in full size form and with the optional additional of jam that I took full advantage of, as chosen by Betsy of A Cup Of Sweetness.

Despite my early fondness for the lightly scented lemon muffin with poppy seeds suspended throughout, this was my first attempt at baking them. The two-bowl wonder of a recipe really could not be any more simple. I threw the dry ingredients together, then the wet, combined, and off into the oven they went in less than ten minutes. Half of them got the star treatment with a belly of raspberry jam, but that additional dimension wasn't all that necessary. It's an honest muffin. Straight-forward. Despite the raspberry jam and lemon glaze, you know that at its heart, it's just a lemony muffin with the perfect proportion of poppy seeds. And I love Bonne Maman raspberry jam, but I don't need to search for it in every bite -- the cake is just so good alone. With or without the bells and whistles, if I were to wake up to it every morning, life couldn't possibly be so bad.

Unfortunately, well done.

It was my own fault.

My mind has been in a million places lately, and I ignored my better judgment and kept this week's Tuesday's With Dorie recipe from Kelly of Baking With the Boys in the oven for quite a bit longer than I should have. By now I should have learned to check cakes far earlier than recommended in a recipe sometimes, but I was neglectful this week, and it showed.

What could have been a resoundingly perfect, delectable slice of bread, according to this week's Ps & Qs was just "okay" in my book. The edges were rather hard, and the innards didn't taste particularly strong of mango, but I'm sure I kept the loaf in the oven for too long. Those moist bits surrounding the fruit always throw me off!!! The taste wasn't bad at all, and I didn't think there was too much ginger, but I'm crossing my fingers that a day tightly wrapped on the counter will soften up the crust and deepen the flavors.

Only time will tell...

A different way of celebrating.

I look forward to St. Patrick's Day every year. Sure, it is some bastardized holiday that has become more an occasion to drink until obliteration than one celebrating the man who rid Ireland of snakes, but as much as I enjoy a well-made Irish coffee, my love for Irish soda bread runs deeper. That, for me, is the true highlight of March 17th.

I can still remember the first time I tasted this bread because the day was marked with a car accident on the streets of San Francisco. My sister and I had stopped at La Farine in Berkeley on our way into the city for morning buns and there was Irish Soda Bread sitting on the shelf, over the shoulder of the baker. It was a variety I had heard about, but had never tried and there it was in front of me. It was the perfect day to take a chance on something potentially phenomenal (it was La Farine, after all) so I went ahead and had them throw one in the bag too. The morning buns, however sugary and messy to eat, were devoured in the car before we crossed the Bay Bridge, but the loaf we saved for a more leisurely moment. This leisurely moment came much later in the afternoon - only after our car was hit full on by a car coming down those hills of the city without stopping for its red light! No one was injured, but our plan of spending a beautiful, bright, and sunny day in the city window shopping and relaxing was shot and instead, we were shuttled back across the bay by the tow truck driver and waited at the Carl's Jr. across the street from the mechanic while insurance was dealt with.

I should qualify this deep affection as one for the American Irish soda bread -- slightly sweet with raisins and, undoubtedly, caraway seeds!! I love the flavor of rye that it gives and it probably tricks my senses into thinking the bread is healthier than it actually is. Left to my own devices, I could probably finish a 10 inch loaf before lunch time.

Last year I made the Cook's Illustrated recipe with raisins and caraway seeds and I brought some delicious white cheddar and Granny Smith apples to accompany it. This year, I decided to try a different recipe, but incorporated elements from last year's pick -- most notably, baking the bread in a dutch oven and brushing it with melted butter to give it a nice crust. I decreased the amount sugar, and also the baking powder because, as this is a soda bread, it doesn't quite make sense to me to use so much of another leavening agent.



The result was a more scone-like than bread-like soda bread. I love a good scone, so this texture I don't mind at all, but I think next year I'll revert back to the basic Cook's Illustrated version for something more reminiscent of bread. It wasn't at all necessary, but I bought some rich Kerrygold Irish butter to go with the bread and it was heaven in my mouth. I think you could slather some Kerrygold on a shoe and it would be delicious.

I'm thinking about incorporating this bread into my regular repertoire seeing as how I just can't get enough of the taste, but I also kind of like how it is only associated with one particular holiday for me. As my last fix was a fairly recent, I'm not itching to devour another loaf just yet, but give it time. I'll be feenin' soon!! And then I'll have some real decisions to make.

The savory side of baking

I do lots of baking, by the normal person's standards, and especially during this time of year, but virtually all of it is sweet. Cakes, pies, cookies, muffins...these are never unusual in my repertoire, but it takes something like Tuesdays with Dorie to "force" me to bake something savory. I don't know what it is -- I've just always erred on the side of sweet from childhood on.

Soy milk sweetened with sugar, or with the addition of green onions, preserved pork, pickled greens, and a drizzle of vinegar and chili oil? Sweet, of course!

A flaky, curry chicken or Chinese BBQ pork mini-pie, or a flaky egg custard tart? Dan ta! (No brainer!)


Brioche french toast with bourbon-pecan topping, or red flannel hash with a poached egg on top? Okay...these days, that decision is a little tougher -- I can't pick a winner.

Rebecca of Ezra Pound Cake was the host of this week's recipe, and she picked Savory Corn & Pepper Muffins, thankfully, because I probably never would have made this recipe if someone hadn't. Typically me, I prefer the sweet Yankee style of cornbread (may be because I was first exposed to this kind of cornbread first and most frequently) and the additions of any savory ingredient always perplexed me.

Cheese? Jalapenos? Why would you do that??

This recipe came together so quickly despite the chopping of the extra add-ins, and although I feared something went wrong when my perhaps-not-room-temperature-enough buttermilk was mixed with the butter (lumpy, bumpy substance), everything turned out just beautifully. Next time, I think I may even add more black pepper, jalapeno, red pepper, and cilantro, as I felt like those flavors could be more pronounced. I would absolutely serve this at dinner, or as an accompaniment to a yummy hash or egg-based breakfast.



I think maybe my salted-sweet-leaning allegiances are now giving way to a finer appreciation for things savory. What is this world coming to?