Occupy Cookie: Just Your Good Old-Fashioned Oatmeal Cookie, with a generous dose of Limequats and Fancy White Chocolate (and a little Cardamom too)

Once again, a month-ish after I last apologized for being the failure of a food blogger that I feel I so certainly am, I am sitting here looking at my almost empty computer screen trying to figure out where to start. What I want to share here - the "subject" of this post, I suppose - is a cookie recipe, a delightful cookie recipe, a sweet-and-sour cookie recipe employing the tried-and-true oatmeal cookie-crafting methods of America's Test Kitchen while experimenting with a new ingredient that caught my eye and piqued my interest at the grocery store about two weeks ago. I made these nearly two weeks ago. It's taken me that long to write about them.

That's the problem here. I'm out of practice. I have material. I've been cooking up a storm lately - seriously, in the last month I've spent more time in the kitchen than I probably did cumulatively from July through December. But what's trickier lately is the writing part of the blog, which I've always valued so much, which has always provided me so much satisfaction and joy and challenge all at the same time. I've fallen into that horrible trap of looking at other people's blogs and wondering why the heck I'm doing something that other people are doing better than I am. So I'm going to experiment with formatting here to just get some words on this compose page and try to get over myself, get back to work, and get you a good cookie recipe to contemplate. Or at least ogle.

Why do I have this dang blog anyway?

1. I love to write and to entertain.

2. I love to be heard and I'm too wordy for Twitter (or even Facebook).

3. I love food and cooking and eating.

4. I love talking about food and sharing food.

5. I believe food is integral to the building of community.

6. I need community. This blog is one way I can make community for myself.

7. I teach people how to cook and this blog gives me some credibility/dimension.

8. I like to sometimes not change diapers.

9. Sometimes when I'm traveling I like to cook the food I make at home and this blog has been a wonderful resource time and time again, as I can come here and type in the little search box the recipe I want. (Which reminds me - I still need to post more (all?) of my favorites here. I'm behind on that.)

10. I cook and eat a certain way. I use a select, finite set of ingredients over and over again (and then sometimes limequats). Some of the food blogs I read regularly attract me because the writing is funny (Joy the Baker) or the food is interesting and ambitious (Smitten Kitchen) or the photography is orgasmic (Not without Salt). But most of the food blogs that actually get me in the kitchen are the ones with recipes that resemble what I like to cook and eat regularly: Lottie and Doof, 101 Cookbooks, Dana Treat, My New Roots, In Praise of Leftovers. So, I figure, or hope anyway, that the people who come to my website - usually my friends, sometimes students, and more often than you'd think a random googler directed here via her "no-mayo tartar sauce" search -  are simpatico with the way I cook and eat, find themselves satisfied with one or two recipes they try, and keep coming back because the food I showcase here is accessible as well as inspiring, the kind of food they like to prepare and devour on a regular basis. And their name is Charlotte.

The set backs I've faced lately:

1. Time. Duh. You and me and everyone we know.

2. My nice camera broke and then Picnik sold out. My Hipstamatic solution was meant to be temporary but it's been a while now, too long a while given my dissatisfaction with the combination of my shooting skills + my old iPhone's ability to compensate for my own photographing deficiencies + Hipstamatic's not-so-user-friendliness. What's a bad picture-taker to do?

3. Beckett's allergies. Sometimes inspiring, mostly not.

4. Identity crisis. Duh. You and me and everyone we know.

I guess since there are more potential pros than cons, I shall keep at it. All the writers-on-writing books say deadlines help. Maybe my life is too unstructured. I'm going to try to give myself some deadlines. We'll see if that helps.

Moving on!

Let's talk about why these cookies are special.

And they ARE special. Like, the kind of special that caused their maker to eat most of them on her own within 48 hours. (Oh sugar and wheat and butter and all your deliciously addictive properties! I hate you and I love you so, so much.)

Yeah. Two sticks of butter. Forty-eight hours.

1. Two sticks of butter.

2. Limequats. Like kumquats, but yellow, and limey. Here are some chopped up because I forgot to take a picture beforehand:

3. Eggs and wheat. My toddler son is allergic to both foods, so we rarely use either in our home. But I purposely promised to bring dessert to dinner at my friend's house because I craved an opportunity to use these trusty badboys. There is a reason European and American baking rely so heavily on wheat and eggs. They WORK. And they are so wonderful and easy and rewarding to work with. I'd missed you guys! See you next time! Stay cool! K.I.T.!

4. America's Test Kitchen is the best. Here's the deal though, having followed their instructions pretty precisely and then not following them because I was a little taken aback by the size of these awesome albeit monstrous cookies. (Oh the irony, given that I ate them almost all by myself anyway.) This is an adaptation of ATK's "Big and Chewy" oatmeal cookie recipe. The outside is crispy but the inside is soft. If you make the cookies huge, and bake them for the time specified, you will get this crispy-soft combo. If you make them smaller, which I did with about two-thirds of the batter, they have a firmer interior on day one and then are pretty crispy on days 2 and 3 (there will be no day 4, trust me). Reducing the baking time doesn't solve this dilemma. The baking time and ingredient portions are designed to make a crispy exterior regardless of the size, so you have to bake them nearly as long for them to have a nice outside texture. (If you underbake them they will just be sort of all around chewy, which I think is kind of weird in an oatmeal cookie. But all power to you.)

Makes 18 big, chewy-on-the-inside cookies:

Or way more small, crispy cookies:

Not pictured: the cup of raw dough that my husband and I ate before it made its way onto a cookie sheet.

Oatmeal-Limequat-White Chocolate Cookies

Adapted from America's Test Kitchen
Makes: 18 huge ones or a lot more small ones

1 1/2 cups (7 1/2 oz) all-purpose or whole wheat pastry flour

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom (optional)*

1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened

1 cup packed (7 oz) light brown sugar

3/4 cup (~5 oz) sugar

2 eggs

3 cups thick rolled oats

1/2 cup finely chopped limequats (or kumquats)

One 3.5-oz bar good quality white chocolate, coarsely chopped

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper or a Silpat. In a bowl, whisk together flour, salt, baking powder, and cardamom. In another bowl, toss chopped limequats with a tablespoon of flour or some of the oats.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with paddle attachment, beat butter and sugars at medium speed until light and fluffy, about 2-3 minutes. Add one egg at a time, beating for a few seconds after each, and mix for 30 more seconds.

Decrease mixing speed to low and add the dry ingredients; mix until combined, about 30 seconds more. Add oats and stir on low speed or use your hand and a measuring spoon. Add limequats and white chocolate and stir in until as combined as possible (the dough will be super thick, so give it some time).

For crispier cookies, measure heaping teaspoonfuls of dough and roll into balls. Space about 1-2" apart on the lined cookie sheets and bake for 16-20 minutes, rotating pan 180 degrees half way through.

For cookies with a crispy exterior and a soft inside, form larger cookies - use ~2 tablespoons of dough per cookie (size of a ping-pong ball) and space apart at least 2 inches. Bake for 22-24 minutes, rotating pan 180 degrees half way through.

* Full disclosure: I used 1 teaspoon of this cardamom extract, which is sold at the grocery store where I teach. It's wonderful!

A slaw, really, but we call it Mom's Pico de Gallo

This morning, I bring to you an accoutrement. A slaw, really, given the inclusion of cabbage and involvement of steps such as "shred as thinly as possible" and "toss well". But for some reason we call it pico de gallo in my house, even though the cabbage part sort of takes it out of your usual pico de gallo realm. We play with words in our family.

We use this pico de slaw most often as a garnish to Mom's White Chili, i.e. my all-time favorite comfort food en el mundo. [Tangent: I've realized that I haven't posted on thishereblog several of my top foods/recipes and am in the process of remedying that. Stat!] I will be posting a recipe for Mom's White Chili soon (the Beckett-friendly, brown rice, low sodium version - I did it, Mom! and it was super good!), but I thought I'd share the slaw de gallo recipe with you now because while, yes, it's delicious on chili or any other cumin-spiced soup, it can also be enjoyed a thousand other ways too - on nachos or tacos, mixed with rice and beans, in a salad, tossed with a colorful blend of citrus segments (they're in season!), et cetera. Also in its favor: its super cheap and simple to make, lasts a few days in the refrigerator, and, particularly when made with purple cabbage, is quite pretty.

I think you'll like it v. much.

Mom's Pico de Gallo

Yield: about 3 cups

From Mom (duh)

1/2 head of cabbage

1 small, or part of a large, tomato

1 jalapeno, seeds and veins removed (optional)

About half a bunch of cilantro (big handful)

Juice of one lime

1/2 teaspoon salt (or, better yet, Penzey's 4/S Special Seasoned Sea Salt)

Shred cabbage as thinly as possible. Finely chop tomato, jalapeno, and cilantro. Place everything in a bowl, top with lime juice and salt and toss well. Let sit for 10 minutes or so before serving. Enjoy!

Cooking By The Seat Of Your Pants! - featuring Roasted Spaghetti Squash with Mediterranean-Spiced Tomato Sauce

I've talked before here about how I feel my greatest asset in the kitchen is my resourcefulness. It really is, and I take great pride in it when I remember to, but most of the time, when food merely gets on the table but it's not necessarily anything to shout (or post) about, I don't think much about it.

But sometimes - the best times, really - after a long snowy cabin-feverish day, a day when my under-the-weather children spend half of it crying or whining to be in my arms and the other half actually in my arms (my arms can only handle half a day), and I really just want to order take-out because being in the kitchen sounds awful and potentially dangerous (see above: children in arms), but I'm conflicted - maybe I've just looked over the bills and am horrified by the amount of money we've spent dining out recently, maybe I weighed myself this morning (and that's enough about that), or maybe I'm just in need of that sense of accomplishment I get from making a great dinner against all odds (refrigerator is bare, pantry is uninspiring, produce on my counter falls in the "too hard" category, it's mighty close to dinner time). When this happens, I rally. I take inventory - spice cupboard looks good, that lemon has potential, I bought those jarred tomatoes for exactly this kind of evening, hey! Beckett's not allergic to spaghetti squash!

And then, with the help of Thomas the Train, via streamable Netflix, I get to it. Roast the squash, zest the lemon, chop some aromatics, settle on a spice profile. It comes together. I expected it to come together. What I didn't expect was for it to be the most delicious thing I've eaten at home since I can remember. Definitely our best (not to mention healthiest) meal in weeks.

And so I pat myself on the back and then go back for seconds. 

Oh my gosh, spaghetti squash. You did NOT let me down!



And you make a wonderful compost container.

Roasted Spaghetti Squash with Mediterranean-Spiced Tomato Sauce

Yield: 4-5 servings

From me

1 large spaghetti squash

Olive oil

Salt and pepper

Half an onion, chopped

1 carrot, chopped

3+ cloves garlic, minced

Zest of 1 lemon
1 24- to 28-oz jar tomato sauce or tomatoes
1 cube vegetable bouillon (or a teaspoon of Herbamare or sea salt)

1 teaspoon sweet paprika

1 teaspoon aleppo pepper (optional - could use 1/2 tsp red pepper flakes instead too)

1/2 teaspoon oregano

2 teaspoons honey or sugar

1 tablespoon of butter or olive oil (optional)
Large handful or two of baby spinach 

Other additions: garbanzo or other white beans, feta or parmesan cheese, fresh herbs (oregano, basil, tarragon, marjoram)

Preheat oven to 400°F. Prepare the spaghetti squash by cutting it in half lengthwise, removing the seeds, rubbing the inside of each half with a drizzle of olive oil, then seasoning with salt and pepper. Place face down on a lined baking tray and place in the oven – cook for about 45 minutes. Once it's done, remove it from oven and allow it to cool for a few minutes until it's manageable.

Once squash has been in the oven for about a half hour, start on the sauce. In a skillet over medium heat, heat a little oil and add onion and carrot to pan. Saute, stirring every couple minutes, until soft, maybe browning a little, about 7 minutes. Add garlic and lemon zest and cook, stirring constantly, for a minute or so. Add the tomatoes (with juices) or sauce, bouillon cube, paprika, aleppo pepper, and oregano. Bring to simmer and then reduce heat to low. Cook for about ten minutes, allowing flavors to marry.

Meanwhile, using two forks, shred the flesh of the spaghetti squash and place it in a bowl. Add a little more salt and pepper.

Back to the sauce: stir in honey or sugar and butter or olive oil, if using. Throw in the spinach and incorporate into sauce, stirring until just wilted. Pour sauce over spaghetti squash, add any of the optional additions above or others you can think of, and serve. Babies love this! Three year olds not so much... but the one in my house only really eats bread and cheese, so perhaps she's not a good representative.

Coming Back With A Bang! Yeah, a salad's a bang, didn't you know? - Cranberry-Miso Vinaigrette and an Autumn Salad

Oh heavens. Remember when October happened? And then November? And then a third of December? Yeah. I'm really sorry about that. I mean, I didn't have anything to do with the general passage of time, but I did fail to post for approximately 75 days and that is just rude. I consider this thing we've got going on a relationship. An important one. Not hearing from me for coming-on-three months? Unforgivable. Not to mention - totally not my style. Generally on the relationship front I embrace stalking over silence. This approach scored me a husband a few years back, so, obviously it works. I should have stuck with it. I should have bombarded you with documentation of my mad skills at work and run-on sentences and trying-too-hard jokes.

There are no good excuses. I was traveling and then I was lazy.

I am sorry.

So sorry that I am coming back with a bang - something to WOW you and WOO you back. But it's not an overt bang like a brownie or cinnamon roll. I wouldn't want to seem desperate - talk about mixed signals.

And so I bring you, humbly, contritely, a little excitedly: a salad. But not a boring salad! A decidedly fall salad with a creamy, heavenly cranberry dressing. And this dressing. Oh this dressing! Friends! It is something special - fragrant, tart and tangy, a tiny bit sweet. Plus it's fuschia. And if fuschia doesn't say bang, I don't know what does. So go pop that cranberry already.

Cranberry-Miso Vinaigrette

Yield: 1.5-2 cups

1 teaspoon oil (I used sunflower for this part)

3 green onions, thinly sliced

2 teaspoons fresh ginger

1 cup fresh or frozen cranberries

Juice of one large orange or 2 small ones (I used 2 clementines)(~1/4 cup total)

1/4 cup olive oil

1/4 cup maple syrup (or any liquid sweetener)

2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar

1-2 heaping tablespoon(s) light miso

1 teaspoon orange zest (from whole clementine or half an orange) (optional)

In a small sauce pan, heat oil over low heat and add green onions and ginger. Stir for a minute or so and then add the cranberries. Stir for a couple minutes (just a minute or so if using fresh cranberries), then add a tablespoon or two of water to mixture. Reduce heat to lowest possible setting and cover with led, allowing cranberries to pop open from the steam.

Meanwhile, put all the other ingredients in a food processor or blender. Once the cranberries are soft and have "popped" (this will take like 5 minutes or so - they kind of crack open a bit and look v. plump and juicy), pour sauce pan contents into food processor or blender, using a spatula to get all that ginger-cranberry gooey goodness, and process until smooth. Add a tablespoon or two of water if you want it thinner (I did not).

Eat on salad (see below) or use it as a dip with vegetables (picture below - toddler crudité) or sweet potato fries or drizzle some over a block of cream cheese or warm brie and serve with crackers. So good!!!

Autumn Salad with Cranberry-Miso Vinaigrette

Serves 2-4

1 head or bag of lettuce of choice

1 pear or apple or orange, diced or segmented, respectively

1 avocado, diced

1 carrot, finely chopped

Handful of something crunchy like seeds or nuts or cacao nibs

Toss all ingredients in a bowl with 1/4 cup cranberry-miso dressing. Enjoy!