Potatoes! (And caramelized onions)

My neighbor Kristen is full of dynamite ideas. She's introduced me to the discount paradise BiMart, to Chelsea Coffee, to discount Tuesdays at the Valley Cinema Pub, and to Sunday dinner swaps. What a fantastic neighbor!

It works like this: on Sunday nights, instead of making enough dinner for two, Kristen and I make dinner for four. Then, we each wrap up the leftovers and exchange them. Voila! Monday night's dinner is finished, and each of us get to eat a completely new meal that we don't have to cook. Maybe your home is different, but I know that on Monday nights, at the start of another work week, I'm more likely to hop down the street to Humdinger than I am to cook a full dinner for...Raymond and myself.

Mostly we've stuck to casserole-style dishes. Once I made beans and rice with sautéed mushrooms and onions; another time Kristen made a cheesy vegetable strata. We both try to incorporate vegetables from our gardens--Fluffington Farms and Atticus Acres, respectively--into the dinners.

This week, since the clouds and fall temperatures are rolling back into Portland, Kristen and I simultaneously made each other soup! I can't wait to try Kristen's soup tonight (and perhaps coax her to share the recipe for the blog...)

It's almost soup season, and I couldn't be happier. I can smell it on the air. There's nothing more cheery on a rainy day than a warm soup like this one, with potatoes and baby shallots from the garden, and just enough chili pepper to keep your stomach warm. Take that, Campbell's! Mmmm good.

Potato and caramelized onion soup
serves 10-12

• 10 small or 7 medium Yukon gold potatoes, quartered
• 1 giant sweet yellow onion (like a Walla Walla) diced finely
• 1 large shallot (or many baby shallots) diced finely
• 1 slosh of olive oil
• 8 cups water
• 2 vegetable bullion cubes*
• 1/2 cup milk
• 1/2 cup cream
• 1-2 tsp. sea salt
• 1-2 tsp. chili powder
• 6 sliced cooked bacon, crumbled (optional garnish)

Heat a slosh of olive oil in a skillet over medium heat. Once the oil is hot, add the diced onion and shallot. Coat the veggies completely with olive oil, then cook them slowly until caramelized, stirring occasionally, for about 30 or 40 minutes. (You'll cook the potatoes while the onions are browning.) Don't rush the onions and shallots; let them heat slowly and evenly until they turn a deep amber.


While the onions caramelize, clean and quarter the potatoes. Bring the 8 cups of water to a boil in a pot and cook the potatoes for 15 - 30 minutes, until they're soft in the center. Drain the potatoes and reserve the water. Transfer the potatoes to a bowl and pour the water back into the pot. Bring to a simmer a dissolve the bullion cubes. Cover the pot and set aside.

In a blender, puree two cups of broth, two cups of potato, and one cup of onion/shallot mixture until smooth. Repeat with the remaining broth, onion/shallot mix, and potatoes. Transfer the soup back into the pan and stir in the milk and cream. Heat the soup back to a simmer and season with sea salt and chili pepper to taste. Add more water or milk to thin the soup, if you like. If you'd like to garnish the soup with bacon, cook a few slices in the skillet you just used to brown onions.

*You'll need more sea salt--closer to two generous teaspoons--if you used a low-sodium or salt-free bullion, like I did.

If you liked this post, you might also enjoy:

John McCutcheon butternut squash soup
Pan-fried chickpeas and cabbage with potatoes
Kate's Red Chili

Buttermilk and cake, together

As of this week, I've lived in Portland for over a year. The past 365 days just slip-slid past me until the Providence Bridge Pedal two Sundays ago. It's a bicycle tour of all the Willamette River bridges in Portland - the third largest bridge pedal worldwide! Raymond and I were peddling up a ramp on Interstate 405, under cloudy skies and through a refreshing light mist, when our Portlandiversary dawned on us.

Those are all pedestrians and bicyclists

We've been here a year already? The journey's been unreal. And real. Surreal perhaps. And we'd unwittingly picked the best way to celebrate: by exploring Portland, from the Ross Island bridge all the way north to the St. Johns bridge, by bicycle. Raymond broke in his new helmet and I broke in my new Schwinn Suburban. (She's named Coraline, in honor of our new home.)

Now with generator-powered headlight!

Over 18,000 people joined us for the ride. Some pedaled over five bridges, some over 10, but we all had a good time (and carbo-loaded afterward.) Thankfully there was a food festival happening right next to the finish line, and Sunshine Dairy gave all the riders free Popsicles and ice cream bars. Bless them!

My life and expectations of Portland evolved this year. I expected Portland to be a place where self-righteous hipster vegans and microbrew-loving bicyclists shared conversations about urban farming and politics. A bunch of soft-headed West-coasters who like their libraries and their forests and their public transportation just so, with no compromise.


Now I know that the flavors of Portland are more subtle. Hikers love soft rain in the evergreens, the lung-filling oxygen-rich forest. Vegans are in paradise because fresh produce and political groups grow wild. Not all bikers are spandex-clad superjerks or dewy-eyed hipsters on cruisers. I know people who are cruel and kind and who love animals and who love burgers and who love video games and love to be outdoors. And it's better this way.

So, I've mellowed out about Portland like I've mellowed out with this cake. It's a version of producer Melissa Gray's Naughty Senator Cake, a collision of sharp mint and chocolate, with a little rum. My version evolved because I couldn't bear to part with a whole pound of butter in one go. I subbed in some yogurt, and the flavors all changed. Suddenly, I knew mint would overpower the delicate cake. Understudies buttermilk and lemon stepped in and saved the show. Raymond and I toted some with us on our last trip to the coast. This not-so-naughty cake exceeded my original hopes.


Not-so-naughty buttermilk-chocolate swirl cake
adapted from The Naughty Senator Cake
serves 8

• 1 1/2 cups sugar
• 1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
• 1/2 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
• 1/2 cup plain yogurt (not non-fat!)
  
• 4 large eggs
• 3 1/2 cups sifted cake flour
• 3 tsp. baking powder
• 1/2 tsp. salt
• 1 cup buttermilk
• 6 - 8 drops lemon oil
  
• 2 tsp. rum

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees, making sure the baking rack is centered. Heavily grease a 12-cup bundt pan with butter or coconut oil.

Cream the butter with a mixer at medium speed. Slowly cream in the yogurt, working until the butter and yogurt are smooth and consistent. This may take several minutes, but be patient! Gradually incorporate the sugar, beating until smooth. Add the eggs, one at a time, and beat well after each one.

In a new bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, and salt. Add 1 cup of the flour mixture to your batter. Beat on a slow speed until it's incorporated. Keeping your mixer on that slow speed, add 1/3 cup of buttermilk. Repeat this process until all of the flour mixture and milk are incorporated.

Pour half of the batter into a clean bowl. In that new bowl, beat in the lemon oil and rum on a medium speed. Set aside. In the first bowl, mix in the cocoa on a low speed (so the cocoa doesn't fly everywhere!)

Layer the two batters in the bundt pan, using a third of each batter each time. Use a knife to cut through the middle of the batter ring to the side of the pan--as you rotate the pan 90 degrees clockwise. Repeat this process three more times. You will have created four curved, overlapping "cuts" in the batter.

Bake for an hour, or until the cake tests done (and an inserted toothpick comes out clean.) Cool the cake for 30 minutes in the pan, then overturn and unmold it onto a cake rack. Serve warm, or toasted later, with cream cheese.

If you liked this post, you might also enjoy:

Ms. Rita's banana bread
Chocolate cardamom swirl cheesecake
Pumpkin cream cheese muffins

Drunken blueberries

Last week, I got drunk on red wine...and made blueberry cobbler. Some people get in fistfights when they drink! Some drunk-dial ex-boyfriends! Some cry about the color of the sky. And when I imbibe, I hug people, drunk-text my happy feelings to them, and now make blueberry cobbler. Well done, Kate! Maybe next time, I can drunk-text people messages like, "I love you! I made blueberry cobbler." Usual suspects, keep an eye on your Inboxes.

I don't usually shoot for drunkenness like free throws at basketball games; however, when I learned that the blurriness in the cobbler photos came from my unstable hand, not my camera, I realized that "helping finish" wine while baking can get messy. It also got tasty!

Don't let this badly lit photo deceive you. The "one for me, one for you" way I "shared" with this cobbler turned out badly for me...but deliciously for the cobbler. During a crazy-boring-wonderful Knitting Party last week, Kristen and I cracked open a bottle of wine. Then half the bottle sat on the counter. Staring. Waiting. Giving me the pouty face. I gave in. "Fine! I'll drink you!"

At first, I just poured a little sip for me and a glug for the cobbler. The longer I sipped, the more the cobbler sipped. But it worked out well! The wine mellowed the berries and sugar, stirring in some mystery to an church picnic-ready dessert. Raymond and I polished off the first cobbler in a day, with some help from Kristen and Eric.

I made a second one while sober for a neighbor potluck. I measured with more accuracy and care this time, though I forgot to take a photo of the finished product until it was too late. Gone in 10 minutes!

Drunken berry cobbler
serves 6

Filling:

• 4 cups blueberries (fresh or frozen is fine)
  
• 1 cup mixed berries (optional - makes the cobbler less sweet but more complex)
  
• 1/2 tsp. cinnamon
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 2/3 cup red "sweet" or dessert wine
• 1 tsp. lemon juice
• 2 Tb. corn starch

Topping:

• 1 cup flour
• 1 Tb. sugar
• 1 1/2 tsp. baking powder
• 1/2 tsp. cinnamon
  
• 1/2 tsp. salt
• 3 tb. firm butter
• 1/2 cup milk

Preheat your oven to 400 degrees. Heat the berries in a saucepan on the stove top and stir in sugar and cinnamon until well and evenly combined. Sprinkle the cornstarch on top, then stir in until there are no lumps or bumps of cornstarch. Bring the berry mixture to a low boil and stir in the lemon juice and wine.

Keep the filling bubbling until it's thickened. Resist the urge to eat it all, spoonful by spoonful, out of the pan. When the sauce is thickened, remove the filling from heat and pour into a small baking dish. Let it cool while you prepare "sweet dumplings" for the top.

Toss together the flour, sugar, baking powder, cinnamon and salt in a bowl. Cut in the butter with fingers, a fork, or a pastry cutter until the butter is broken into tiny flakes, distributed well into the flour mixture. Create a small well in the flour, then pour in the milk slowly, stirring with a fork as you pour.

Top the berries with spoonfuls of dumpling, then bake the cobbler for 20 - 30 minutes, or until the topping is golden brown and the filling bubbles. Let the cobbler cool for 10 minutes, then serve warm with ice cream!

If you liked this post, you might also enjoy:
Cranberry peach salad with ginger
Dried fruit pie
Strawberry rhubarb tart