When we originally conceptualized this gingerbread house, we planned to create it in the image of Mount Vernon.  It just so happens, we are major GW dweebs.  I mean, have you seen this?

In the end, it was less George Washington than we imagined, and significantly more . . . glitz.  Though we did stay true to original by replicating the rounded driveway.  And there’s always next year to cut original molds for archways and weather vanes.

The house took three days to complete.  Day 1: making dough from this epicurious recipe (it’s not super sweet, but it holds up beautifully).  Day 2: making icing and gluing molds together.  Day 3: decoration.

Ginger GW and Martha felt quite at home.

Dipping noodles in sauce is the most marvelous idea.

If you, like me, are what Alex calls a “butter,” (short for butterfingers, but meaning generally spastic) sauce dribbles down your chin and splatters across your shirt and a solidly good mess ensues.  Nothing makes me feel two again like struggling to get a mound of wet noodles into my mouth.

Fortunately, the preparation of soba with dipping sauce is not as challenging as the consumption, but it is just as much fun.  This was our first attempt at home-cooked soba, though we’ve had some delicious versions at great places around the city.  To repeat myself, that’s home-cooked, not homemade, for we are not yet that skilled nor unoccupied.  Cooking soba noodles at home basically involves boiling water, throwing in noodles, and concocting a dressing. It’s easier than making just about anything, other than plain boiled pasta.  We fixed up some toppings, but you can go as minimalist as you desire.

Ingredients (serves 2-4)
8 oz. soba noodles
1 cup chicken stock
1/4 cup soy sauce
2 tbsp mirin
1 scallion, finely chopped
1 daikon radish, shredded
1 cup shitaki mushrooms, steamed in a bit of water and soy sauce

Instructions:
Boil water and salt it for soba noodles.  Combine stock, mirin and soy sauce, divide into bowls for dipping.  Cook soba noodles according to package instructions, and rinse with cold water.  Assemble soba noodles on plates, and top with scallion, radish and mushrooms.

My wonderfully brilliant copyright professor said something in class last week that I won’t forget.

He said that people develop hobbies like cooking and photography because they present opportunities to produce something tangible.  So many people’s work lives, he continued, are spent working on things that produce nothing (See, e.g., Alanna K., Why I’d Rather Watch True Blood Than Read Copyright Law, 1 J. Law & Procrastination 624, (2009)).

It got me thinking.  When Alex and I worked for our daily college paper, I loved waking up each morning knowing that I could physically pick up the product of my previous day’s work.  We started cooking seriously right after our tenures at the paper ended, and while I always thought that interest served to fill the time void, I hadn’t considered that maybe it fills a more psychological gap as well.  (See Alanna K., Why We Continue to Cook When We Have No Time Again, 1 J. Law & Procrastination 945 (2009)).

More than anything, baking bread gives me a sense of productivity.  It doesn’t require much effort (other than some pulses in the food processor and getting up from our desks every few hours to excitedly poke the rising dough for a bit and ooh over its size), but I feel like we’ve created something magnificent.  Professors: they are usually right.

It’s been a while since we baked bread, so we picked a simple recipe to ease us into it.  This oatmeal walnut bread is fresh, warm, and soft with a crispy finish.  With a slather of nutella, it is heavenly.  We took the recipe from a great book called The Best Bread Ever, and made only a few minor adjustments that are posted below (and a major one: we used all-purpose flour instead of bread flour because it was in the cabinet).  Also, note that the book called for baking the loaves on pizza stones, but we used pyrex baking dishes.  If you have a stone, you are lucky, and should use it.

Ingredients:
(oatmeal)
1/2 cup steel-cut oats (this stuff works)
3/4 cup uncooked oatmeal
1 cup water

(bread)
4 cups all-purpose flour
2 tbsp salt
1 1/2 tsp instant yeast
1 cup plus 3 tbsp water (the 1 cup should warm water)
1 cup walnuts, toasted and chopped

Instructions:
To make oatmeal, combine both oats and water in a pot.  Cover, bring to a boil, then uncover and reduce heat to low.  Stir and cook until water is been absorbed, about 5-8 minutes.  Let cool.  Add flour, salt and yeast to the food processor, then add cooled oatmeal.  With the machine running, pour the 1 cup warm water through the feed tube and process until dough comes together into a visible ball, adding more flour or water if necessary.  Remove the dough from the food processor and knead in walnuts.  Transfer dough to a large ungreased bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and let rise for about three hours.  Scrape dough onto a floured surface, divide into two equal pieces, and shape into two football-sized loves by folding pieces in half and pinching ends together.  Sprinkle a baking sheet with oatmeal, and place loves on sheet.

One hour before baking, preheat oven to 475 degrees.  Place a pan for water on the bottom rack.  Transfer loaves to pyrex containers, brush loaves with water, and sprinkle with more uncooked oatmeal.  Dust surfaces with flour, and use a knife to make a long slash along the length of each loaf.  Pour 1 cup warm water into the pan to create steam, put the bread in the oven, and turn heat to 450 degrees.  After two minutes, open the oven and quickly add another cup of water to the pan for more steam.  Bake for 30-35 minutes, until crust is golden.  Remove loaves, and let cool before serving.

Yesterday morning, we packed up half of the kitchen and headed to the Union Square Greenmarket to do a cooking demo/promotion for our lovely new cookbook.

The demo went swimmingly — we cooked a delicious eggplant pasta recipe from the book three times in row, and served samples to 300 people (a record for us!).  Fact: Nothing garners a crowd like the aroma of sauteed garlic.

After the event, we came home and used our leftover ingredients to cook the eggplant pasta a fourth time for friends joining us for dinner.  We’re now pretty good at the recipe, so it’s too bad we’re suffering a bit of post-traumatic stress over the idea of it.  In all likelihood, we’ll be frantically chopping eggplants in our dreams for the next few weeks.

So hopefully you understand why we’re not blogging the pasta, despite the fact that it’s incredible fall dish that everyone should make.  Also, we forgot the camera and have no pictures.  (Quick shameless self-promotion:  If you would like the recipe, it’s in the book).

Now, for the main blogging event: pesto hummus — the appetizer to our eggplant pasta supper last night.  We decided to make this dip simply because it utilized ingredients that we had hanging out in our fridge and cabinets.  We were completely shocked by the delightful flavors that resulted.  We scraped the bowl completely clean, and I had even scraped the food processor clean earlier in the afternoon while making the dip.  Though it’s called a pesto hummus, there’s no tahini — so this really ends up tasting more like a pesto bean dip.  We recommend it for any party, to spread on sandwiches, or just for snacking with carrots and crackers.

This recipe should really be adjusted to taste, so please use our recipe as a guideline to create your own delicious masterpiece!

Ingredients (serves 8-10):
2 16-oz. cans chickpeas (drained, liquid reserved)
1 cup packed basil leaves
1/2 clove garlic, chopped
3 tbsp olive oil
3 tsp balsamic vinegar
3 tsp soy sauce
juice of 1 1/2 lemons
salt and pepper to taste

Instructions:
Combine chickpeas, garlic and basil in the food processor.  Pulse several times.  Add olive oil, vinegar, soy sauce and lemon juice, and pulse (you can add more of these ingredients or less, to taste).  Add reserved chickpea liquid and continue process until mixture is desired consistency (we aimed for the consistency of hummus).  Season with salt and pepper, and serve with raw veggies, crackers, or spread over bread.

After not having tortellini for maybe 10 years, I have them on the brain.  It’s kind of like when you learn a word, and then see it everywhere.  I rediscovered tortellini, and now I see and crave them constantly.  (Me:  What?  Has our local grocery store been selling tortellini all this time and I never noticed?!  Alex:  Yes.)

Alex is currently studying the brain for his Brain and Behavior class, yet he has been usless in helping me to determine why I cannot get enough tortellini.  Perhaps it is because his primary study tool is this video?

In any case, it seems as though the only cure for tortellini brain is more tortellini.  We conjured up this soup recently, and it has served as a sufficient antidote for about a week (though I can feel the urges kicking in again: flashes of tortellini, visions of pasta, etc.).  The recipe is adapted from one in Eating Well magazine.  The original recipe uses ravioli and suggests tortellini as an alternative.  I don’t just suggest it; I strongly urge it.   We made some other tweaks, and our version is posted below.

Enjoy, and don’t blame us if you catch the tortellini brain.  I hear it’s contagious.

Ingredients:
1 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
2 bell peppers, chopped
1 onion, chopped
1/2 tsp crushed red pepper
1 28-ounce can fire-roasted crushed tomatoes
3 1/2 cups chicken broth
1 tsp dried basil
1 9 oz. package fresh tortellini
2 cups zucchini, dices
salt and pepper to taste

Instructions:
Heat oil over medium-high heat large soup pot.  Add onions, and cook for about two minutes until glistening.  Add peppers and cook for an additional 3-4 minutes until onions and peppers are soft.  Stir in crushed red pepper, then add tomatoes, broth and basil and bring to a simmer.  Let simmer for about 15 minutes.  Add tortellini and cook for 3 to 5 minutes less than package instructions.  Add zucchini and cook until it is tender, about 5 minutes.  Season with salt and pepper, then serve.

When I asked Alex what we should say about this soothingly refreshing beverage, he responded that we should call it a “delicious summer treat.”

But for Al, everything is a delicious summer treat.  I might have gotten the same response if I’d inquired about beer or grilled salmon.  He loves all foods and beverages Summer.  Who doesn’t?

Me, for one.  I’m not categorically opposed to summer drinks, but they are second fiddle to the winter drinks of my heart: mulled cider, brewed chocolate with mint, hot lattes.

Predictably, this Green Tea Mint Lemonade is the exception.  The exceptional exception, excepting the exacting exercise of extracting juice from lemons (though if you have a juicer, you’re exempted).  Yes, squeezing is such a pain, but its worth it for this cooling beverage that’s not too sweet, and offers a uniquely refreshing blend of fresh seasonal flavors.

Ingredients (serves 6-8):
1/2 cup packed fresh mint
1 cup sugar
2 cups water, divided
1 cup fresh lemon juice
8 cups iced green tea (or other iced tea)

Instructions:
Combine mint leaves, sugar and 1 cup water in a small saucepan, then bring to a boil, stirring occasionally.  Turn off heat and let cool.  Once cool, remove mint leaves and combine with lemon juice.  In a large pitcher, combine iced tea and remaining 1 cup water, then pour the lemon mixture into it.  Serve chilled or over ice, with mint leaves for garnish.