This month’s Fandom Foodies theme, hosted by The Hungry Bookworm, is Magical Realism, one of my favorite genres of fiction – and let’s be honest, the one I wish I was living in. Find lots of magical realism dishes using #MagicalRealFood.
Amélie is an adorably quirky film, one of my favorites of all time. Romantic and twee, and even a bit dark at times, it’s a movie for dreamers – and times are hard for dreamers.
In a sweetly heartbreaking scene, Amélie does what a lot of us do when miserable which is sad-baking. For her that means her famous plum cake. I never really knew what her plum cake was supposed to be, only that it was a yeast cake which seemed interesting and unusual. On latest viewing I dug into it a little and was introduced to kouign amann, a cake from Brittany, that is made with a yeast dough, and then folded and rolled into layers of butter and sugar, then baked until it is nice caramelized. With all the folding and layering, there’s opportunity for fillings, such as chocolate, cinnamon, jam, or fresh fruit.
For my first try, this wasn’t bad. Lessons to take away:
It was a little dense, so next time I might try my pizza dough method, which is to add the flour gradually until it juuuuuust makes a dough, rather than add it all at once.
Also, as you can see, caramelization is good, but there’s always too much of a good thing – I’ve complained before about my oven running hot (and yet, forgot to check how things were going along the way), so my cake got veeeery caramelized, and even a little burnt in spots. Next time I’ll lower the heat a bit and babysit it a little better.
Finally, as plums are not in season I used plum preserves, which was definitely tasty, but a little messy as it leaked out of the dough, onto my counters, and into the oven as well (I had to slide a sheet pan underneath to catch the drips). While this is still a legit version, I’m excited to try it with fresh fruit, so that’s the plan come July or August.
Amelie’s Famous Plum Cake (Prune Kouign Amann)
Rather than transcribe the entire recipe, I’m just going to link to David Leibovitz’s as I pretty much did that exactly, and he has very detailed instructions as well as pictures along the way (the folding pattern can get a little confusing without a visual).
The only thing I did differently was replacing one of the 1/4 cups of sugar with several tablespoons of plum preserves. Again, just a note, that you may have to adjust temperature and cooking time to your oven.
This dish was first posted for Fiction Kitchen Episode 38: AMELIE in which Carrie and Diana discuss the 2001 French film in which times are hard for dreamers, but things work out ok. Plus, cherry earrings, cracking crème brûlée, plum cake, endives, and scribbles for nibbles.
One of my favorite tales spun by Scheherezade in 1001 Arabian Nights is The Prince and the Large and Lonely Tortoise. This story has everything: animal brides, shape shifting, jealous bitches, cooking trickery, and dinner party drama. If, like the sultan you are dying to hear more, and I’m almost certain you are, the full story in all its public domain glory is below the recipe.
In the story, the lonely tortoise, in her lovely human form, attends the feast. She pours rice swollen in butter over her hair, which turns into pearls, and a thick green soup which turns into emeralds.
This reminded me of a delightful Middle Eastern soup I’ve made several times. It’s an elegant soup with split peas and mint. I feel that it’s pretty representative of the region, with the ubiquitous lentils and very common mint.
In a soup pot, heat olive oil on medium heat. Saute onions and garlic until the onion is soft and translucent. Add the chopped butter lettuce and saute until wilted. Add mint, a generous pinch salt, and a sprinkle white pepper, and stir well.
Add split peas and vegetable stock, bring to a boil, then lower to a simmer. Simmer for about 40 minutes or until split peas are soft. Add mint, and cook another 3 or 4 minutes.
Puree in a blender (hold a tea towel over the top so it doesn’t explode) and pour back into the pot. Taste and adjust seasoning (add more salt) if necessary.
Serve hot with a dollop of whipped yogurt and a sprinkle of chopped mint.
This dish was first posted for Fiction Kitchen Episode 9: ARABIAN NIGHTS in which Carrie and Diana Scherezade’s awesomeness, hedonism vs. moderation, random guests, bedouin hospitality and some light shape shifting.
It is related that there was once, in the antiquity of time and the passage of the age and of the moment, a powerful sultan whom Allah had blessed with three sons: Ali, the eldest, Hussein, the second, and Muhammad, the youngest. They were all indomitable males and heroic warriors; but the youngest was the most handsome, the bravest and the most generous. Their father loved them equally and, in the justice of his heart, had resolved to leave to each an equal part of his riches and his kingdom.
Also, when they came to marriageable age, the king called his wise and prudent wazir to him, saying, “O wazir, I wish to find wives for my three sons, and have called you to me that you may give me your advice.”
The wazir reflected for an hour, and then answered, lifting his head, “O king of time, the matter is delicate, for good and evil chance are not to be told beforehand, and against the decree of destiny there is no provision. I suggest that you take the three princes, armed with their bows and arrows, up to the terrace of the palace, and there, after bandaging their eyes, make them each turn round several times, After that, let them fire their arrows straight ahead of them, and let them visit the houses upon which the arrows fall. Have the owners of the houses brought before you and ask of each his daughter in marriage for the marksman of the arrow which fell upon his house. Thus each of your sons will have a bride chosen by destiny.”
“Your advice is excellent, and I shall act upon it!” cried the sultan.
As soon as his sons returned from hunting, he told them of the trial and led them up, with their bows and quivers, to the terrace of his palace. The dignitaries of the court followed and watched with breathless interest while he bandaged the eyes of the young men
The eldest prince was turned about, and then discharged his arrow straight in front of him. It flew through the air with great swiftness and fell upon the dwelling of a most noble lord. In like manner the second prince’s arrow fell upon the terrace of the commander-in-chief of the king’s army.
But, when Muhammad drew his bow, the arrow fell upon a house whose owner was not known. The king, with his retinue, set forth to visit the three houses, and found the great lord’s daughter and the commander-in-chief’s daughter were girls as fair as moons, and that their parents were delighted to marry them to the two princes. But when the king visited the third house, on which Muhammed’s shaft had fallen, he found in it no inhabitant except a large and lonely tortoise.
Therefore, deeming that there could be no thought for a moment of marrying a prince to such an animal, the sultan decided that the test should be made again. The youngest prince mounted again to the terrace and again shot an arrow blindfold, but it fell true upon the house of the large and lonely tortoise.
The king grew angry at this, and cried, “By Allah, your shooting is not fortunate today, my son! Pray for the prophet!”
“Blessing and peace be upon him and upon his companions and those who are faithful to him!” answered Muhammad.
“Now invoke the name of Allah,” exclaimed the king, “and shoot a third arrow.” “In the name of the merciful, the compassionate!” exclaimed Muhammad, as he strongly drew his bow and sent a third shaft onto the roof of the house inhabited by the large and lonely tortoise.
When the Sultan saw, beyond any manner of doubt, that destiny favored the tortoise, he decided that his youngest son should remain a bachelor, and said to him, “My son, as this tortoise is not of our race, or our kind, or our religion, it would be better for you not to marry at all until Allah takes us again into his compassion.”
But young Muhammad cried in dissent from this, “I swear by the virtues of the prophet (upon whom be prayer and peace!) that the time of my celibacy is over! If the large tortoise is written in my destiny I shall assuredly marry her.”
“She is certainly written in your destiny!” cried the astonished sultan. “But it would be a monstrous thing for a human being to wed with a tortoise!”
“I have no predilection for tortoises in general,” cried the prince. “It is this particular one whom I wish to marry.”
The sultan, who loved his son, made no more objections but, though the weddings of Ali and Hussein were celebrated with great splendor for forty days and forty nights and then felicitously consummated, no one at court, neither his two brothers, nor their wives, nor the wives of the amirs and dignitaries, would accept an invitation to Muhammed’s bridal feast, and, instead, they did all in their power to spoil and make it sad.
Poor Muhammad was bitterly humiliated by the mocking smiles and turned backs which everywhere greeted him; but of his marriage night he would say nothing, and only Allah, from whom no secrets are hid, can tell what passed between the two. It is certain, at least, that no one in that kingdom could imagine how a human youth might couple with a tortoise, even though she were as big as a stock jar.
In the time which came after the three weddings, the years and preoccupations of his reign, added to the emotion of his disappointment in Muhammad, bowed the king’s back and thinned his bones. He pined away and became yellow. He lost his appetite and, with his appetite, his vision, so that he became almost completely blind.
The three princes, who loved their father dearly, resolved to leave his health no longer in the ignorant and superstitious care of the harem.
When they had concerted together, they approached the sultan and kissed his hand, saying, “Dear father, your face is becoming yellow, your appetite is weakening, and your sight is failing you. If these things go on, we shall soon be tearing our garments for grief that we have lost the prop of all our life. Therefore you must listen to our counsel and obey it. We have determined that our wives and not the women of the harem shall henceforth prepare your food, for these last are great experts in the kitchen and by their cookery can give you back appetite which shall furnish strength, strength which will furnish health, and health which will restore your vision.”
The sultan was deeply touched by this care on his sons’ part. “May Allah shower his blessings upon you!” he said. “But I am afraid that this will be a great nuisance for your wives.”
“A nuisance to our wives?” they cried. “They are your slaves and have no more urgent object in life than to prepare the food which will restore you to health.”
“We have agreed that each of them shall prepare a separate dish, and that you shall choose your favorite in appearance, odor, and taste. Thus appetite will come back to you, and your eyes be cured.”
“You know better than I do what is for the best,” answered the sultan, as he embraced them.
The three princes went joyfully to their wives and bade them prepare the most admirable dish they could, and each said further, to excite a spirit of emulation, “It is essential that our father should prefer the cooking of our house.”
After they had given their orders, the two elder brothers were for ever mocking Muhammad and asking him how a tortoise cooked, but he met all their jests with a calm smile.
His wife, the large and lonely tortoise,had only been waiting for such an opportunity to show what she could do. At once she set to work, and her first care was to send a confidential servant to her elder sister-in-law, begging her to send back all the rat and mouse dung which she could collect in her house, that the tortoise, who never employed any other condiment, might use these matters for seasoning the rice dishes which she was preparing for the sultan.
“As Allah lives, I will do no such thing!” said Ali’s wife to herself. “If these things make really good seasoning, let the wretched tortoise find her own. I can make all the use of them that is necessary.” Then aloud to the servant she said, “I regret that I have to refuse your mistress’s request, but I have hardly enough rat and mouse dung for my own requirements.”
When the servant returned with this answer, the tortoise laughed happily, and sent her to Hussein’s wife with a request for all the hens’ and pigeon’s droppings which she had by her. The servant returned from this mission empty handed, with a bitter and disobliging message from the second princess. But when the tortoise had caused the words to be repeated to her, she fell into an ecstasy of contentment and laughed so heartily that she fell over on her backside.
As soon as she was a little recovered, she prepared those meats which she could cook best, covered the dish which held them with a wicker cover, and wrapped the whole in a rose-scented napkin. Then she dispatched her servant with the dish to the sultan, at the same moment as his other two daughters-in-law were sending theirs by slaves.
The time of the meal arrived, and the sultan sat down before the three dishes; but, when he had lifted the lid of that sent by the eldest son’s wife, there rose so foul a steam and odor of rat turds that it might well have asphyxiated an elephant.
The sultan was so disagreeably affected by this stench that he fell head over heels in a swoon, and, when his sons succeeded in bringing him to with rose-water and the use of fans, he sat up and cursed his daughter-in-law heartily.
In a little while he became calmer and consented to try the second dish; but, as soon as it was uncovered, a fetid stink of burnt birds’ droppings took him by the throat and eyes so that he thought that the hour of blindness and death was upon him. It was not until the windows had been thrown open and the dish removed and benzoin burnt with incense to purify the air, that the disgusted old man felt himself strong enough to say, “What harm have I done to your wives, my sons, that they should try to dig me a grave before my time?” The two elder princes could only answer that the thing passed their understanding; but young Muhammad kissed his father’s hand and begged him to forget his previous disappointments in the delight of the third dish.
“What is that, Muhammad?” cried the king in an indignant rage. “Do you mock your old father? When women can prepare such frightful foods, do you expect me to touch the cooking of a tortoise? I can see that you have all sworn to destroy me.”
Muhammad went on his knees and swore, by his life and by the verity of the faith, that the third dish would make up for all, and that he himself would eat anything of it which was not to his father’s taste. He urged with such fervor and humility that the sultan at last signed to the slave to lift the third cover, and waited with a set jaw, murmuring, “I seek refuge in the protection of Allah!”
But it was the soul of all fine cooking which rose from the dish that the tortoise had prepared. It exquisitely dilated the fans of the old man’s heart, it nourished the fans of his lungs, it shook the fans of this nostrils, it brought back lost appetite, it opened his eyes and clarified his vision. He ate for an hour without stopping, then drank an excellent sherbet of musk and pounded snow, and finally gurked several times from the very bottom of his satisfied stomach.
In great delight he gave thanks to Allah and praised the cooking of the tortoise. Muhammad accepted his congratulations modestly, in order not to excite the jealousy of his brothers. “That is only one of my wife’s talents, dear father,” he said. “Allah grant that she may some day find a chance really to earn your praises.” Then he begged the king to allow his future nourishment to be entirely in the hands of the tortoise, and his delighted father readily agreed to the arrangement, which in a few weeks entirely reestablished his health and eyesight.
To celebrate his cure the sultan gave a great feast, and bade his three sons attend it with their wives. At once the two elder princesses began to make preparation that they might appear with honor and success before their father-in-law.
The large tortoise also schemed how to whiten her husband’s visage before the people by the beauty of her escorting and the elegance of her clothes.
Her first step was to send her confidential servant to Ali’s wife with a request for the loan of the big goose which she had in her courtyard, that the tortoise might use it as a fitting steed on which to ride to the festivities. The princess gave so peremptory a refusal that the good tortoise fell over on her backside in the convulsions of laughter which it occasioned her.
Then she sent to the second sister to borrow her large he-goat for the same purpose, and never has the tortoise been so convulsed and dilated with pure joy as was this one when she received a second and much ruder refusal.
The hour of the feast came. The old queen’s women were drawn up in good order at the outside door of the harem to receive the three royal brides. As they waited, a cloud of dust rolled towards them. When it dissipated, they saw a gigantic goose waddling forward with the speed of the wind, throwing her legs to left and right, beating her wings, and carrying the first princess of the kingdom clinging to her neck in disordered fright. Almost immediately afterwards, a he-goat, rearing and savagely bleating, came up to the entrance. It bore upon his back the second princess, all stained with dust and dung. The sultan and his wife were deeply offended by this double exhibition. The former cried, “See, they are not content with strangling and poisoning me; they wish to mock me before the people!”
The queen received the two women coldly. An uncomfortable pause was only broken by the arrival of the third princess. The king and his wife were full of apprehension. They said to each other, “If two humans could show so absurdly, what can we expect from a tortoise? There is no power or might save in Allah!” So saying, they waited with caught breath for what might appear.
The first rank of couriers appeared, announcing the arrival of prince Muhammed’s wife. Presently four handsome grooms, dressed in brocade and rich tunics with trailing sleeves, led up the palanquin. It was covered with bright-colored silks, and the black men who carried it set it down by the stairs. An unknown princess of bright splendor stepped from it, and the women, supposing her to be a maid of honor, waited for the alighting of the tortoise. Yet, when the palanquin was borne away, and this delightful vision mounted the steps alone, they recognized her as Muhammed’s bride and received her with honor and effusion. The sultan’s heart rejoiced to see her grace and nobility, her charming manners and musical movements.
At once the sultan bade his sons and their wives be seated by him and by the queen, and, when they had taken their places, the feast was served.
The first dish was, as usual, a profusion of rice swollen in butter. Before anyone could take a mouthful the beautiful princess lifted the dish and poured all its contents over her hair. Immediately each grain of rice turned to a pearl, and the pearls ran down the long strands of hair and tinkled to the floor in a bright cascade.
Before the company could recover its wits after so admirable a prodigy, she also lifted a large tureen, filled with thick green soup, and poured its contents over her head in the same way. The green soup changed to an infinity of emeralds among her hair. These fell about her like green rain, to mingle their sea-tints with the pearls upon the floor. During the delighted confusion which followed, the servants brought other supplies of rice and green soup for the guests to eat. The two elder princesses, now yellow with jealousy, could not leave well alone. The eldest seized on the dish of rice and the second on the tureen of green soup; both poured the contents of these things upon their heads. But the rice remained rice in the hair of the first, horribly daubing her with butter. The soup, remaining soup, ran down in a sticky course over the hair and face and garments of the second, for all the world like cow slop.
The sultan was disgusted at these accidents and commanded his two elder daughters-in-law to withdraw from the feast. Also he proclaimed that he wished never to see them again, or smell them, or hear of them. Their husbands, therefore, led them away in a great rage. You may suppose that all four noses trailed very near the ground. So much for them.
When prince Muhammad and his magic princess were left alone with the sultan, he embraced them and took them to his heart. He said “You alone are my children!” He wrote a will leaving his throne to his youngest son. Calling together his amirs and wazirs, he made his intention known to them. Then to the two young people, he said, “I wish you both to stay with me in my palace until the end.”
“To hear is to obey,” they answered. “Our father’s desire is upon our heads and before our eyes.”
That she might never again be tempted to resume the appearance of a tortoise and so shock the old sultan, the princess ordered her servant to bring the large and lonely shell which she had left at home that day and, when it was fetched, burnt it without compunction. Ever afterwards she remained in her own delightful form. And glory be to Allah who gave her a faultless body, a marvel to the eyes of men!
The giver showered his blessings upon these two and delighted them with numerous children.
As reality and dystopian fiction become closer to indistinguishable, it’s no surprise that it is #DISHTOPIA Month: Eat Like It’s the End of the World, Fandom Foodies theme hosted by the lovely Catherine at The Gluttonous Geek – check out the linkup for more foodpocalypse!
Blade Runner (1982) gives us the most charming retro-futuristic world, where Turing Test-passing AI and flying cars exist but people are still using noir tropes and pay phones. As we learned during the Blade Runner episode of our Fiction Kitchen podcast, the future has heavy Asian undertones, food is nonperishable, and as Cracked claims: tough guys eat noodles.
This dish inspired by the film was really an excuse to try out Momofuku Ginger Scallion Sauce which I’ve had my eye on for awhile – and it did not disappoint! – so I made a bowl of ramen to be tossed with that and other goodies.
Blade Runner Tough Guy Future Noodles
For the ginger scallion sauce
2 1/2 cups thinly sliced scallions (greens and whites; from 1 to 2 large bunches)
1/2 cup finely minced peeled fresh ginger
1/4 cup grapeseed oil
1 1/2 teaspoons soy sauce
3/4 teaspoon sherry vinegar
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt, or more to taste
Toss all ingredients together, let sit 15 minutes.
Heat oil, and saute carrots until soft, about 8 minutes. Add red pepper flakes and soy sauce, cook another few minutes until liquid evaporates. Toss with sesame seeds.
For the mushrooms
Clean and slice 8oz cremini mushrooms. Heat a tablespoon oil and 1 grate clove garlic, then saute mushrooms until liquid evaporates, add a 1 tablespoon splash soy sauce, cook another minute or two.
For the cucumbers
Peel and slice two large cucumbers, toss with 2 teaspoons sugar and 1 teaspoon sea salt (or to taste) and let sit 10-15 minutes.
For the boiled eggs
Put 6 eggs in a saucepan and just cover with cold water. Bring to a boil, remove from heat, and sit, covered for 7 minutes (10 for fully hard eggs). Dunk eggs in an ice bath, peel and slice.
For the noodle bowl
Boil and drain 9oz ramen, toss with other goodies!
This dish was first posted for Fiction Kitchen Episode 37: BLADE RUNNER in which Carrie and Diana discuss the 1982 cyberpunk neo-noir film, eat some tough guy noodles, make some edible origami, and cry into their peaches.
As reality and dystopian fiction become closer to indistinguishable, it’s no surprise that it is #DISHTOPIA Month: Eat Like It’s the End of the World, Fandom Foodies theme hosted by the lovely Catherine at The Gluttonous Geek – check out the linkup for more foodpocalypse!
For the Hunger Games, unless you’re really into fried squirrel or nettle tea, the best food is going to be found in The Capitol. Obscene feasts are thrown regularly from the wealth of resources flowing in, which probably include spices, so when I set out to make the creamy pumpkin soup sprinkled with slivered nuts and black seeds that Katniss samples, that’s exactly what I imagined.
I used canned pumpkin (LAZY! Like Capitol people) and a whole can of coconut milk (RICH and DECADENT! Like Capitol people).
Paanch phoran, or five-spice powder, is made from cumin, fenugreek, fennel, mustard, and black seeds called kalonji (or nigella seeds, or onion seeds, or black seeds, etc. It’s the seed of many names), so that’s what I used as the seasoning for my soup. I much recommend seeking out the curry leaves (NOT bay leaves, even though they look similar) at your local Indian market, they will give your soup a delicate and delicious fragrance and really take it to Capitol level fare.
May the soup be EVER in your flavor…
Capitol Pumpkin Soup
2-3 tablespoons coconut oil (or a flavorless cooking oil)
1 onion, diced
1 inch ginger, chopped
2 garlic cloves, chopped
1/2 teaspoon each cumin, fenugreek, fennel, mustard, and kalonji seeds
1/2 teaspoon turmeric
1/2 teaspoon red chili
3 tablespoons ground almonds or almond meal
1 can pumpkin puree
4 cups vegetable broth
1 can coconut milk
1 cinnamon stick
4-5 fresh curry leaves
sliced almond and a sprinkle of kalonji for garnish
Heat the oil and saute onion until it just starts to turn golden. Add ginger and garlic and stir for a minute or two, then add all seeds and cook until they start to sizzle (be careful not to burn). Add turmeric and red chili, stir for a minute, then add almond meal, pumpkin puree and a cup of the chicken broth. Heat through.
Blend the mixture thoroughly and return to the pot along with the rest of the chicken broth, the coconut milk, cinnamon stick, and curry leaves. Mix well, gently heat and cook on a low simmer for about 20 minutes. Serve hot, garnished with sliced almonds and kalonji.
This dish was first posted for Fiction Kitchen Episode 25: THE HUNGER GAMES in which Carrie and Diana discuss The Hunger Games books and movies, including from Greek mythological child sacrifices, Katniss’s practical hairstyle, social commentary, and the scarcity of goat milk.
Better late than never for #BattleChefBuffet, Fandom Foodies theme of the (last) month, hosted by the awesome Victoria at Pixelated Provisions – that’s right it’s Battle Chef Brigade!
I haven’t gotten a chance to play the Trinket Studio developed/Adult Swim published game yet, although the kids got a Switch for Christmas so we plan to in the near future – just as soon as our Zelda: Breath of the Wild obsession quells! However, the game looks delightful and innovative and full of intriguing dishes…and…oh, what’s this???
Onion Chopping Ninja Chef has challenged me to a Quarry Cap cook off! Orc smash!! Weird orc horn!! Pew pew pew pew!!
We both received pics of the dishes; she made Mina (the human’s) Quarry Cap dish, which you can find on her site – and full disclosure, it looks delicious and I fully plan on trying her recipe with the leftover wood ear mushrooms I have from my dish.
Her choice to use wood ear mushrooms (or, as I got mine at the Korean market, they are labeled somewhat less charmingly as “black fungus”) was a smart choice to acheive the striking color of the dish, so I decided to use them in mine as well. My dish is Thrash (the orc’s) Quarry Cap soup. I regularly make a sherried cream of mushroom soup, Western style, but decided to try the same dish with a more Asian profile, and was happy with the kickass punch-you-in-the-mouth result!
Orc Rock Mushroom Soup with Corn and Coconut Cream
For the mushroom soup
x ounces dried wood ear mushrooms
4 ounces fresh button mushrooms, sliced
4 ounces fresh shiitake mushrooms, sliced
Vegetable oil
1 small bunch green onions, whites and greens divided, sliced
3 garlic cloves, grated
1 inch ginger, grated
1/2 teaspoon white pepper
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1/4 cup shaoxing wine (substitute dry sherry or white wine)
4 cups vegetable broth
Salt to taste
To rehydrate the wood ear mushrooms, pour a cup of boiling water over them and let them steep for at least 30 minutes.
Meanwhile, heat a tablespoon or two of vegetable oil in a wok, and stir fry mushrooms until they release their water and start to color. Add the whites of the green onions, garlic and ginger, and cook, stirring, for a minute or two. Add white pepper and soy sauce and shoaxing wine and cook, stirring, until almost dry. Add vegetable broth.
Drain and slice wood ear mushrooms (reserving some for garnish, optional), and add to the wok. Simmer for 30 minutes. Puree in a blender and return to the hot pot to heat through. Check for seasoning and add more salt if necessary.
For the corn and coconut cream
1 can coconut milk
2 ears white corn (reserve some kernels for garnish)
Pinch salt
In a small sauce pan, heat coconut milk and add ears of corn. Simmer for 30 minutes. Remove ears, slice of kernels and place in a blender with the coconut milk. Puree and return to the pot to heat through.
To serve, pour soup into bowls and drizzle with a generous swirl of the coconut corn cream. Garnish with mushrooms, corn kernels, and reserved green onion.
Red peppers get all the love but the humble green pepper is fresh and unexpected. I had posted a green pepper soup recipe here years ago and it was one of my most popular; I’ve tweaked it slightly and taken terribly lit moody new photos.
While not as sweet as red peppers, deeply roasting green ones does bring out a bit of sweetness, though their overall flavor is more grassy and herbal. In this soup the grassiness is enhanced by ground coriander, deepened by cumin, and mellowed and richened by coconut milk. It’s light enough that I’d like to try it chilled in the summer, but right now in the winter it’s the perfect cheap and green dish for your New Year.
Roasted Green Pepper Soup
3 green peppers
1-2 tablespoons coconut oil, or a flavorless oil
1 onion, chopped
2 garlic cloves, grated
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1 teaspoon ground cumin
salt & pepper to taste
4 cups vegetable broth, divided
1 can coconut milk, left in the fridge overnight to separate into water and cream
Heat oven to 450° and roast green peppers by placing on the rack and turning with tongs as they blacken (place a cookie sheet on the rack underneath to catch any drips). When blackened, place in a bowl and cover with a plate or plastic wrap to steam and make easier to peel.
Meanwhile in a soup pot heat coconut oil and saute onion until just beginning to turn golden, being careful not to burn. Add garlic and cook for a minute or so, then add coriander, cumin, salt (start with a scant teaspoon) and generous black pepper. Cook, stirring, for another minute, and add about a cup of the vegetable broth. Move mixture to a blender.
Peel and deseed the green peppers and place in the blender with the soupy mixture and blend until smooth, adding more vegetable broth if necessary. Return to the pot and heat through.
Open the can of coconut milk and reserve several spoons of the cream for garnish. Add the rest to the soup and heat through well, and adjust seasoning if necessary. Serve with a dollop of coconut cream.
Wouldst thou like the taste of butter? A pretty dress? Wouldst thou like to live deliciously?
It’s #Witchtober, hosted by Fiction Food Café. Check the tag on social media for wickedly witchy recipes!
The Witch (2015), a “New-England Folktale” written and directed by Robert Eggers, is haunting, unsettling, and painstakingly historically accurate. From the dialog to the clothing to the Puritanical hysteria, the colonial ambience is on point. I’ve read several times how it’s not very scary, however (light spoilers) with actual baby-smashing witches, creepy twins, writhing possession and a goat which is terrifying even in its most mundane state – I respectfully ask what more do you want?
The family dynamic in this movie is refreshing. It could have easily been a story about religious authoritarian parents repressing their daughter who is on the cusp of womanhood. Instead, though devout, they are a family who truly cares about one other and are trying their best both to live righteously and survive in a harsh new land. The parents are both Game of Thrones alums, Ralph Ineson of the low booming voice, and Kate Dickie who has the market cornered on disturbing breastfeeding scenes. Anya Taylor-Joy as Thomasin, the oldest daughter, is fresh and earnest in the face of unknown evil. Bonus points to Black Phillip for exceptional goat acting.
I made a classic colonial dish, Apple Tansey, based of a recipe that can be found in The Compleat Housewife, first published in London in 1727 and the first cookbook to be published in the United States. A tansey is basically an egg-based dessert, and this one contains apples (and apple butter) which the children in the movie reminisce about eating back in England. The apples are cooked in plenty of butter of course, the luxury so unctuously uttered into Thomasin’s ear, and served with a lightly sweetened goat cheese cream to honor our king of sky and land, sea and sand, Black Phillilp. Wouldst thou like to live deliciously? Read onward.
Apple Tansey with Goat Cheese Cream
For the tansey
2 Granny Smith apples, peeled, cored, halved and sliced
Heat the broiler. On the stovetop in a cast iron skillet or other deep oven-proof pan, melt butter, and cook apple slices on medium until softened (7-10 minutes). Meanwhile, whisk egg yolks with sour cream and sugar, whip egg whites until white and frothy and fold into the egg mixture. Lower heat to medium low and stir egg mixture into apples with a spatula and smooth on top. Swirl in the apple butter and cook for 4-5 minutes until set. Sprinkle with brown sugar and place under the broiler until brown and bubble. Cool slightly before serving with goat cheese cream.
For the goat cheese cream
4 ounces goat cheese, room temperature
1/4 cup heavy cream
1 tablespoon sugar
Whip goat cheese until smooth. Separately, whip cream to soft peaks, then blend with goat cheese and sugar until smooth. Serve with the tansey.
It’s finally here!! It’s #Witchtober, hosted by Fiction Food Café. THAT’S RIGHT WITCHES!! Check out the tag for Witchy recipes from fiction all month long.
The House of the Devil (2009), written and directed by Ti West, is a bit of a haunted house movie, a bit of a slasher, and a bit of witchy movie rolled in to one. What’s otherwise a basic tropey horror movie gets elevated by it’s full 80s style. From the titles to the soundtrack to the camerawork to the feathered hair and Satanic Panic, this movie feels like the cover of a VC Andrews novel and I loved it.
An eclipse features heavily in the film, being both the occasion for the final ritual as well as inspiration for the special of the day in the pizza parlor that our final girl Samantha (Jocelin Donahue) and her friend Megan (Greta Gerwig) have lunch. “Eclipse Pie” is detailed on the chalkboard: white sauce, garlic, tomato, olives and feta. I put together such a pie using a few techniques I’ve collected over the years: those for New York pizza dough, white sauce, and deliciously slow-roasted romas that I make all the time and use for everything (you know, salads, pastas, drawing pentagrams). And voila: pizza fit for a demon.
Heat olive oil. In a food processor, blitz together onion and garlic (alternately you can finely chop both), and cook until softened and most of the moisture has evaporated, being careful not to brown. Add heavy cream and thyme and a pinch of salt & pepper, and cook for a few minutes until reduced and thick. Remove from heat.
For the tomatoes (slices or sauce)
2 pounds roma tomatoes, trimmed and medium sliced lengthwise
4 cloves garlic, peeled and smashed
olive oil
salt & pepper
Heat oven to 300°. Toss tomatoes and garlic with generous olive oil, salt and pepper, and spread in a single layer in a couple roasting pans or a couple baking sheets. Cook for 1 1/2 hours. They can be used as is, OR if you want to make a sauce for drawing symbols and such, transfer to a food processor and blend with just enough water to get a thick but squirtable consistency. Transfer to a squirt bottle.
For the pie
One New York-style pizza dough (recipe from Serious Eats)
white sauce & tomatoes (above)
4 ounces ricotta
4 ounces mozzarella
salt & pepper
palmful kalamata olives, sliced
palmful basil, small chop
palmful feta
Heat oven to 500°
Grease a pizza peel, stone, or baking sheet, and gently stretch the dough to a 14 inch round. Top with white sauce.
Mix ricotta and mozzarella, season with salt and pepper, and spread over the pizza. Add olives, basil, feta, and either the whole tomatoes or draw a pentagram (or heart or happy face, whatever).
Cook for about 15 minutes (start checking at 12) until golden and bubbly. Allow to cool slightly, slice and serve.
Bonus: Samantha bopping around the spooky house like an 80s music video!
It cannot be seen, cannot be felt,
Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt.
It lies behind stars and under hills,
And empty holes it fills.
It comes first, and follows after,
Ends life, kills laughter.
In honor of Hobbit Day (September 22), the Fandom Foodies theme of the month is The Hobbit, hosted by In Literature. Use #HobbitMonth to find lots of Hobbit-themed dishes this month!
My favorite vignette from The Hobbit is Riddles in the Dark, where Bilbo encounters the precioussss, slimy Gollum and they play a game of riddles, during which Gollum decides whether or not he wants to eat the little hobbit that has wandered into his lair. It’s a delightfully creepy scene, and as I was also an obnoxious, smartypants kid, the cleverness of it was fun for me.
Though it’s said that Gollum subsists on fishes and the odd goblin that gets lost in his cave, I started dreaming of what other slimy, swampy food might be available. I put together this stew, seaweed steeped in a lovely broth rich with sweetness and umami, with earthy mushrooms and watery lotus root. Lest it veer too far into Asian territory, I flavored it with ginger, peppercorns, and clove reminiscent of Medieval Europe’s ubiquitous savory spice mix poudre fort. If Gollum gets hungry and tired of fishes, this stew is a slurpy alternative.
Heat oven to 300° Whisk together miso, vegetable oil, and 2 tablespoons water. On a baking sheet, toss onions, carrots, celery, garlic, shitake mushrooms, and kombu with the miso mixture and arrange in a single layer. Bake for 1 hour to 1 1/2 hours until caramelized.
Transfer vegetables to a pot with 4 quarts cold water, peppercorns, cloves, and ginger. Simmer for about an hour and strain.
For the stew
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
8 ounces baby bella mushrooms, sliced
6 ounces lotus root (about half a lotus root, I used a package of slices), peeled, halved, and sliced
2 green onions, whites and greens divided and sliced
1 ounce dried wakame seaweed, cut or broken into long strips
vegetable broth (see above)
salt and white pepper to taste
In a pot, heat the vegetable oil, and cook the mushrooms until liquid is released but before they brown. Add lotus root, green onions, and white pepper and cook until onions are wilted. Add seaweed and about 3 cups vegetable broth (more if you’d like a soupier consistency). Cook on a low simmer for about 15 minutes, check seasoning, and serve hot or warm garnished with green onion.
The Descent, a film about a group of adventurous women and their fraught caving expedition, is probably in my Top 5 favorite horror movies of all time, and is surely a modern classic. First of all, it’s scary as hell; the darkness and claustrophobia of spelunking are already terrifying, and that’s before you get to any supernatural elements. But above all else, I think this is one of the most natural depictions of women and their friendships and conflicts of any movie I’ve ever seen, in any genre.
The women in this movie are legitimate badasses, extremely competent, and physically powerful without their bodies becoming the focus of the male gaze. They are supportive of each other and work together to solve problems, and they falter and argue in a very human way. (The fact that I’m applauding a movie for portraying women as humans is both comforting and upsetting…but let’s be happy about it here).
The Faculty of Horror podcast has a fantastic episode on The Descent which brilliantly dissects the movie and echoes a lot of my own thoughts. I definitley recommend a listen.
Sarah is our clear protagonist, who has experienced a loss I don’t know if I personally could come back from. Juno, her closest friend, is more complex. Like Alex from The Faculty of Horror, I’m a Juno apologist; she’s my favorite character in the movie, from her ferocious love of the people close to her to her desperate recklessness to her shutting down when it’s all too overwhelming. Her necklace with the engraving “Love Each Day” is cheesy, yes, but it embodies her; she experiences the world on a pure, raw level.
For my recipe, I made an energy bite, perfect for whatever adventure we ladies get up to. It’s got dates and flax seeds, nutritionally dense staples that I hear sporty people are into (My actual tweet from when I first watched this movie. Ahem. “This movie’s making me want to be more sporty. [Reclines, sips wine]”). I’m just kidding, I go outside once in awhile. The main thing though is apples, which, come on, apples are the classic symbol of temptation and indulgence, it’s in my damn logo. Before any real trauma, the caving ladies stop for a break; Juno heartily devours an apple and Sarah noticeably declines.
The other ingredient I included drawn from the film is lemon zest. In a very tense scene, Sarah has a panic attack and Beth (the sweetest, most wonderful character) tells her a very cute joke about a lemon to calm her down. And it’s so good! I tasted the mixture before and after the addition, and the lemon zest both makes the bites delightfully bright and brings out every other flavor. Beth’s joke ftw.
I refered to Minamalist Baker for a general technique, but as my ingredients are super different and it still worked, I’ve concluded you can pretty much make these to your preference.
Apple Lemon Energy Bites
3 ounces dates (rehydrate for 10 minutes in warm water and drain if they are super dry, I didn’t need to)
3 ounces dried apple
1 ounce candied ginger
zest of one lemon
1/2 cup rolled oats
1 tablespoon flax seeds
In a food processor, blend dates, apple, and ginger, until the pieces are small and it forms a moist ball. Break up the ball by hand into pieces in food processor, it will help the rest blend. Add lemon zest, oats, and flax seeds.
Blend to a fairly uniform mixture (will be grainy). Form heaping tablespoons into balls on a plate, then set for 10 minutes in the freezer. Take on your caving expedition.
