Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Power Pops


Researching a frozen treats column isn't the worst way to spend a summer afternoon. Under that noble banner (and in an effort to beat continuing heat), the Spoonstress and I went to Durham's Loco Pops today. The pequena paleteria, or small popsicle store, sells a world of flavors, frozen and wrapped in plastic.

Before opening her icy oasis, Loco Popstress Summer Bicknell was an apprentice popsicle-maker in Mexico. In the small town of Tlazazalca, she discovered exotic mixes like Pineapple Basil, Ginger Canteloupe and Chocolate Chile. One suspects that she learned the Nana Nilla, basically banana pudding on a stick, this side of the border.

As pictured on the right, the Latte was an eye-opening experience for the Spoonstress. I enjoyed the Pineapple Basil much more than the Mojito or the Very Berry. As usual, we left pleased. And refreshed.

As Bicknell said, "A popsicle is, for me, a 10-minute trip to somewhere colder."

Monday, July 17, 2006

The Snowman Melteth

With summer in full blast, I've recently been feeling like this snowman. I'm also still searching for my next column. These two forces will join together, as I plan to write about some kind of frozen treat. It's just too hot to do otherwise.

On a similar topic, I've been frustrated that my favorite popsicle--the Toasted Almond--is nowhere to be found. Nobody seems to carry this stepchild of the Good Humor armada. While Fudgsicles made a decent temporary substitute, they taste like chocolate pudding on a stick. Not much different than, say, a JELL-O Pudding Pop. I'm sure The Cos loves them both, but neither is doin' it for me.

This situation must be remedied--I need something frosty to keep me from looking like Frosty (above). Stay tuned...

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Gazpacho Dispatched

I'm now in that vexing stage between columns where I'm deciding what to write about. I like to call it Three Little Bears Land, where I'm trying to figure out which idea is juuuust right. For instance, I'm keen to make my own granola bars, but just finished a column on granola.

Then there's the season to take into account. With summer in full haze, I thought I'd honor the spoon segment of Fork & Spoon and write about gazpacho. I planned to talk to the wizards at Pepper's Pizza who make an amazing version and it'd be a sure thing.

Perhaps not surprisingly, a summertime gazpacho piece proved less than original. The good people at The News & Observer, the parent paper for Fork & Spoon publisher The Chapel Hill News, ran their own interesting piece on the cold soup of Spain.

Oh well, that's life in this cut-throat, competitive world food journalism. I guess I'll commiserate with a nice cold bowl of soup.

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Granola with Gusto

Note: This column appeared in The Chapel Hill News and is reproduced here for blog readers because the newspaper does not maintain its links.

I recently returned from my honeymoon, where the Spoonstress and I hid out at a B & B in the Berkshire Mountains. Central to our experience at Stonover Farm were the sumptuous breakfasts, which married sensible granola, yogurt and fruit with decadent goat cheese and mushroom omelets with accompanying bacon.

After getting back to civilian life, I missed those a.m. eat-a-thons. I yearned to recreate a bit of that Massachusetts magic. But as a card-carrying night owl, I’m simply not going to be up in time to make a weekday omelet. The homemade granola, though, that seemed doable.

One e-mail to Stonover host Suky Werman and I was in business. After twenty minutes of mixing and a few—OK, four—hours of baking, I had recreated the healthier half of our honeymoon breakfasts. Suky noted in her message that recreating the granola could be “a small honeymoon legacy.” Indeed.

The key to Suky’s granola is the sautéed black sesame seeds, which both Whole Foods and Earth Fare stock in their Asian sections. The seeds don’t have a strong sesame flavor, but add a surprising smoked flavor that you’ll get used to after a few spoonfuls.

Another vital step in the process is coating the standard rolled oats and sunflower seeds with two cups of that sweet nectar of the North, maple syrup. While I know this is my second column to mention maple syrup, I’d like to reassure everyone that we New Englanders don’t actually drink the stuff.

Making this granola will require a trip down the bulk foods aisle. Don’t be afraid. Just measure carefully and buy the right amount of oats and sunflower seeds to save time at home. To be honest, though, I did that less out of foresight and more because we don’t own a kitchen scale.
Now I know what you’re thinking—‘Making my own granola should save me a bundle.’ Given that the rolled oats and sunflower seeds together cost less than $1 per pound, it can. But when you coat your oats with two bottles of real maple syrup—at about $6 a pop—that economic incentive disappears.

In fact, Suky’s granola may even be a tad more expensive than your store-bought variety. Of course, you can always use a faux maple offering or go hard-core crunchy and skip the sweetener. And while those mass-produced granolas may beat Suky’s on price, they can't touch their spirit (or taste).

As Chapel Hill friend and granola guru Peter Robichaux noted, “That smoky, roasted flavor gives an interesting layer to the granola that is different than most. It’s not just one flavor, it’s a lot of different ones coming together.”

The maple coating and slow baking create a watertight texture. This is no wimpy granola. It holds its own against milk or yogurt, refusing to get soggy.

“One of the things this granola has at its core is that it’s crunchy—bridgework beware!” said Robichaux, a recreational granola maker. “Part of its heartiness comes from the same things that give it that nice gravelly consistency: sunflower and sesame seeds.”

A note of caution: this recipe gets a bit messy. When you’re finished, hopefully there will be more oats and seeds in the granola than on the floor.

The recipe also turns your kitchen into a bit of a granola factory. I fit the entire batch in the oven at one time—using four cookie sheets on two oven racks—but it may require two takes. Or two ovens. Here’s a chance for folks with industrial-sized ranges to finally use those extra square feet.

When the granola is browned to your liking, combine the contents in the biggest bowl you can find. A kiddy pool might work best. In combining all the parts, I found that my hands made the best mixing tools. Plus, it’s a bit earthier. Just make sure your hands aren’t too earthy.

While the concoction is cooling, you may need to run to the store for more Tupperware. You’ll need lots. Our kitchen, newly reorganized to house our wedding haul, is now filled with granola-stuffed containers.

With its sweet, smoky taste and blissful memories, though, Suky’s granola won’t last long. The Spoonstress and I have been plowing through it. The honeymoon may be over, but its breakfasts are not.


Suky’s Granola

3 lbs. Organic rolled oats
1 lb. Hulled sunflower seeds
1 1/2 cup black sesame seeds
2 cups raisins
1 cup finely chopped pineapple
2 cups pure maple syrup
Other dried fruits to taste

(Makes about seven pounds)


Mix the oats and sunflower seeds in large bowl, and then coat the mixture with maple syrup. Spread the mixture thinly on cookie sheets and cook at 250 degrees for four hours.
Suky recommends using silpat sheets on the cookie sheets, as a non-stick reusable surface. Since I don’t know what those are, I greased the pan with a little butter.

Meanwhile, sauté black sesame seeds (available in Whole Foods and Earth Fare’s Asian sections) in a shallow pan on low heat. There is no need for oil. Just heat until they start to pop—or for five to 10 minutes.

When the oat and sunflower mixture is golden brown, remove from oven and let cool. Place in large bowl and add sesame seeds, raisins, pineapple and any other dried fruits you like. Now the hard part: waiting until morning to have a bowl.

Monday, July 03, 2006

Grains of Wisdom

In preparing to write the Granola with Gusto column, found myself talking oats and seeds with friend Peter. It turns out that he makes his own granola and isn't afraid of a little granalysis.

Peter's soliloquy stands on its own:

"As a dorm room expatriate, I’m still stuck in the routine of eating cereal for most meals and snacks throughout the week. So, to get a better mix of the healthy things I need, I decided to mix it all together. The best way to get protein and good grains with a little dried fruit action is granola. Now, granola at the store comes in a smaller box and is twice as much as the Oats-n-More (Food Lion’s version of Honey Bunches of Oats) I was used to buying. That opened me up to the idea of thinking beyond a box (sadly, that pun was intended) and making granola for myself.

Also, the box granola didn’t give me everything that I wanted. I can submit to not adding things to my Lucky Charms because I don’t have the necessary equipment to create magically-delicious purple horseshoes, but with granola, there isn’t anything in there that I can’t buy at any grocery store."