Archives for April 2012

Cashew Tarragon Pesto

April 25, 2012 by mollygilbert520 11 Comments

I’m going to tell you something, but you have to promise not to tell my friend Steve. He’s deathly allergic to nuts, you see, and becomes horribly offended when I feature them here. So don’t tell, okay? Okay.

Cashews. I’m slightly obsessed with them. Shhh.

I never ate cashews growing up, because I thought I was allergic to them; a handful of mixed nuts left me oddly itchy and puffed up like a balloon one Thanksgiving – needless to say, I spent the following years as far away as I could from any and all nut products. However, the guilty nut turned out to be none other than the evil Brazil nut, so while I continue to shun those oddly-shaped nuggets of anaphylaxis, cashews have gained a seat at the table. In a big way.

I throw cashews into salads, soups, even bowls of cereal. And I find few greater pleasures than eating roasted, salted handfuls straight from the freezer, which is where I store them (for freshness purposes).

I use cashews to make pesto. With some tarragon, parsley, lemon and garlic. I spread it on toast, eat it with pasta, smear it on roasted chicken. I suggest you do, too! Unless you are my friend Steve, in which case, do not eat this. But do. But don’t. You know. Sorry, Steve.

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Carrot Bread

April 22, 2012 by mollygilbert520 14 Comments

Today is a day for slouchy yellow sweaters and neon pink nails, for doing the crossword and then riding your new blue bike through the grey fog, for parking yourself at the greenmarket. When you’re there, you’ll want to buy olive bread, red snapper fillets, fresh mint, fat asparagus, new strawberries and some gnarly carrots, short and lumpy, with well-coiffed leafy green tops that rustle and billow with the wind from the Bay.

When you get home, you’ll want to eat sugared strawberries, olive toast, carrot bread. You’ll measure your flour, mix your sugars, grate your nutmeg, but then you’ll hit a snag. Those lovely carrots, you’ll realize, have gone missing. Where could they be? You’ll check your market tote, the refrigerator, the countertop – no carrots. You’ll check those places again, and also the freezer, just for good measure, because maybe you’re going nuts and you threw them in there without realizing. You didn’t. You’ll scratch your head, because you know that you definitely bought some carrots and that those carrots were here just a minute ago.

Then you’ll look towards the couch. You will see Ben there, looking guilty, crunching his jaw and holding a carrot top.

He’ll say “oops,” and then you’ll say “OOPS?!” and vow not to give him any carrot bread, once you get more carrots and actually bake it, you mean. But you will give him carrot bread, because he likes it so much and because you can’t help yourself, because he is Ben and because they were just carrots, after all. And because carrot bread, faintly sweet and speckled with coconut, is meant for sharing. Even with a carrot sneak.

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Meyer Lemon Dream Curd

April 18, 2012 by mollygilbert520 10 Comments

It’s true, I’ve already said my piece about Meyer lemons. The thing is, they’re still here. They’re kind of all over the place. Smooth and bright little yellow jewels, bunched in baskets at every market, crying out for me to turn them into cakes and dressings and curds (oh my).

So I do.

Lemon curd is a gorgeous thing, really. Dreamy. It sings with flavor, simultaneously tart and sweet, with a texture spun of silk, so smooth and downy soft you’ll want to just start spreading. And spreading and spreading some more.

I’d start with toast. Maybe a scone. Definitely swirled into some plain yogurt for a dressed up breakfast, or folded into a bowl of soft whipped cream alongside some berries for a decadent dessert.

Do with it what you will, just make sure you do with it, not without.

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Casey’s Apple Date Walnut Salad (Charoset)

April 13, 2012 by mollygilbert520 9 Comments

I did Passover a little differently this year. I did it on the west coast, for one, and I did it without the usual crowd — no Aunt Lissie, Mom, Dad, sisters, original girl cousins, or any other east coast family, for that matter. Lucky for me, I have family, both real and makeshift (which, let’s be honest, also counts as real), here in the Bay.

There were 10 of us at last night’s Seder (a little late, yes, but no matter – Elijah still came), only two of us actually Jewish, but all of us open-minded and enthusiastic. We drank wine, we said prayers, we ate matzoh balls, and we tore through our hosts beautiful apartment in search of the Afikomen. We told the story of Passover, drank more wine, and ate flourless chocolate cake while singing Happy Birthday, competing with each other to see whose voice sounded best. I don’t want to say we’re bad singers, but the Happy Birthday contest probably could have been the 11th plague. Was it unconventional? Yes. Was it perfect? Yup.

Happy Passover, everyone.

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Cashew Cream of Asparagus Soup

April 11, 2012 by mollygilbert520 4 Comments

We had an unofficial soup-off here the other night, whereby two soups were made, tasted and judged, and one soup was declared the winner. It was a slurpy, soupy fight. It was a battle of epic proportions. Gauntlets were thrown, tears were shed, friendships were ruined. Vegetables were blanched, fingers were nicked, steam puffed from simmering pots and, in the end, this soup took home the trophy.

That’s actually sort of a lie.

I mean, we did have a soup-off, and two soups were definitely made and tasted — our friends Dania and Craig made a smooth tomato bisque, Ben and I made cashew cream of asparagus — but as far as judgement goes, we sort of dropped the ball. We just slurped and slurped, each insisting that our own creations were clearly the best, none of us able to keep a straight face while doing so. In the end, no soup was declared the winner, and everyone went home full and happy.

Lame.

Everyone wins? What is that? This is America, dammit, the land of champions, and I demand a trophy. This soup wins! Cashew cream of asparagus! Most original! Sneakiest use of cashews! Maybe not the best looking but all-around tastiest! Best soup in the land!

Well. It’s good, anyway. Like, really good. Don’t let the name fool you — there’s no cream in this soup. Just some soaked and pulverized cashews, which add some protein and a full, creamy texture; it really balances out the fresh, springy green of leeks and asparagus. Try it! It’s award-winning, you know.

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Lemon Scented Banana Bread

April 3, 2012 by mollygilbert520 10 Comments

When I lived in an enormous apartment building in New York City (a mere month ago), I knew only one of my neighbors. Just one of those New York things, I guess; when you live in a city with 8 million others, it’s far too daunting to try and get to know everyone, so, instead, nobody gets to know anyone. Neighborliness is too exhausting when you live in a building of thousands, you know? At any rate, my one New York neighbor was named Mike. He owned a big dog and a nice collection of shoes, and I’m fairly certain he thought my sister and I were a sweet young lesbian couple who lived three doors down and often wore matching workout gear.

Since I’ve moved to San Francisco, I’ve already met two of my neighbors. There’s Chris, who lives next door — we met when I was walking out of my apartment and he was walking into his. It was clear we were both in respective hurries, so we said quick hellos and then did an awkward shuffle around each other in our small hallway; it was nice.

My other neighbor is named Jen. I know this because of the late-night laundry lock out. The late-night laundry lockout began at 10:30pm last Saturday night. Ben and I snuck down to the laundry room to throw in a load (quite a life, we lead), terrified yet thrilled at the prospect of doing laundry after the building’s acceptable laundry hours. We darted into the washroom, fed the machines some quarters and then dashed out, nervously giggling at our domestic derring-do. It wasn’t until we were halfway up the building’s back staircase that Ben asked me, smiling, “You have my keys, right?”

I didn’t. Being his keys and all, I didn’t, you know, have them.

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