Dunk & Crumble

Archives for March 2012

Sweet Cream Biscuits

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Sometimes you just need a biscuit.  A warm and sweetish salty one, smeared with soft butter and jam, and maybe some fruit and milky tea.

Know what I mean?

It’s raining in California again.  Someone needs to talk to the authorities about this.

So, um, excuse me?  Authorities?  Mr. and Mrs. Powers That Be?  Can’t we lay off the grey skies, the chilly drafts, the rain coming down in drips and sheets?  I may be new around here, but I was told California was, you know, sunny.  I’m beginning to think I’m being punked.  (Not cool, Ashton.)

So, yes, biscuits.  These are simple, light, tender-crumbed.  Eaten warm, they’ll make you close your eyes and smile.  A little bit of cozy on a wet and dreary day.

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Meyer Lemon Almond Loaf Cake

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Roughly 80% of my days here in California have been rainy ones.  Maybe 73%.  70-80 percent, probably.  Definitely.  I mean, those are made up percentages, but whatever, it’s been rainy.  What’s going on, California?  Meanwhile, my old love, New York City, has been taunting us with sun-filled, 70 degree days.  It’s officially spring now, so let’s get our act together, California, okay?  Okay.

Spring it may be, but only just.  At the markets, the steadfast winter jewels are hanging on tight — kale, Brussels sprouts, apples, citrus.  They haven’t yet made way for asparagus, rhubarb, strawberries and peas.  I don’t really mind, because of the Meyer lemons.

Meyer lemons are thin-skinned, bright and gorgeous, especially here, where they’re grown in my neighbors’ backyards.  They’re sweeter and more floral than regular lemons, since they’re actually a cross between a Eureka or Lisbon lemon and a mandarin orange.  (It’s true, I Googled it).

I’m planning to wait out the rain, and to wait for the strawberries.  Until then, we have Meyer lemons, and that’s okay with me.

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Green & Goat Frittata

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It started with a simple enough proposition.  A run, Ben said, down to the Ferry Building farmer’s market.  Just a short run, he said, about a mile.  We can jog.  A short jog, I thought, might be nice!  Nice way to see my new city and end up at the farmer’s market.  Let’s go.

So we went!  And went.  And went, and went, and went.

Roughly three miles and many dirty looks later, Ben and I arrived at the Ferry Building, he unruffled, cool as a cucumber, me gasping for oxygen in strained bursts, my face the color of a vibrant summer tomato.

I’ve never been so happy to see a farmer’s market in my life.  This one had stalls overflowing with tangy cheeses, piles of orange and yellow citrus, and endless bunches of dark, leafy greens.  I was temporarily distracted from the searing cramp in my side by the Californian grandeur of it all – the people, the produce, the pastries!  As I sucked in big gulps of air off the Bay, Ben offered to buy me an almond croissant, and, suddenly, all was forgiven.  The peace offering complete, we browsed the market, ducking between stalls and choosing fat bunches of dinosaur kale, a large, muddy-bottomed leek, and a few sharp stalks of purple-specked green garlic.

After an hour or so, my face had turned from tomato red to what Ben assured me was a healthy, pinkish glow.  Right.  We took the bus home.

Our green market haul went happily into this frittata, along with a handful of creamy goat’s cheese, and was enjoyed by some lovely new San Francisco friends for brunch on Sunday, and then again for dinner on Tuesday.  Yep, this one is a keeper.

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Cookies & Cream Cake

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Sunday was a day for tears, for long goodbye hugs, runny mascara and tear-stained t-shirts on the east coast.  Monday was a day for travel, filled with taxi cabs and airplane food, cramped-up legs and some minor jet lag on the west coast.  And today, well, today is a day for celebrating.

Not only is today, March 6th, my first official day as a person who lives in San Francisco, but it’s also the birthday of two of my very favorite things: Katie Gro and Oreo cookies.  KGro is my curliest-haired (some say identical) cousin, a lover of high heels, yoga and scotch, and the best, truest, most selfless friend you could have.  Happy birthday, KGro!

And then there’s milk’s favorite cookie, the classic and unmatched Oreo.  Today, the Oreo turns one hundred years old.  One hundred!  I’ve been eating Oreos since birth, I’m pretty sure, and they are by far my favorite packaged cookie.  Do I consider the Oreo a sweet and special friend, on par with my KGro?  No.  Do I consider the Oreo a sweet a special friend, always there for me in times of happiness, sadness and excess milk?  Absolutely.  Happy birthday, Oreos!

California.  KGro.  Oreos.  So many things to celebrate!  To help, I thought a cake might be in order, a chocolate one with Oreo-flecked buttercream.  Happy happy, everybody.

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