Snacks

Grilled Pineapple Salsa

May 7, 2012 by mollygilbert520 3 Comments

Certain events unfolded over the weekend which left me feeling, what’s the word? Oh, awful. And by “certain events,” I mean “margaritas,” and by “awful” I mean “terrible.”

So, so terrible.

Naturally, this tequila-induced Awfulness lead to a declaration on my part to, from here on out, subsist on nothing but vegetables and water. I could do it, too. I could walk on sharp tacks, bathe in rubbing alcohol (ugh, please don’t say alcohol), watch a horror film with my eyes open — any one of these things might feel better than the Awfulness. Vegetables and water. Detox. I’m doing it.

Saturday morning, this was. So I drank some water, ate sliced cucumbers, went out for a walk. Easy.

That’s when I got hungry.

While Ben laughed at my inability to eat only vegetables for one day, I revised my previous declaration to state that I would only eat vegetable-based meals for an entire week. You know, as opposed to pastry-based ones.

It’s been two whole days, and the declaration remains intact. I tried to bake a pound cake today and it exploded in the oven. (What? Even professionals explode cakes from time to time.) If that’s not a sign, I’ll eat my foot (covered with cucumbers, obviously).

So, in honor of the Awfulness, I present to you a delicious, veggie- (fine, fruit-) based recipe. Grilled pineapple salsa. To be eaten over greens and maybe some black beans or tofu. Or chicken. Maybe turkey burgers? Pita chips. Whatever. Just, please, hold the margarita.

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Vanilla Bean Banana Pudding

May 2, 2012 by mollygilbert520 4 Comments

The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain. And if you live in California (which, it turns out, I do now), the rain stays mainly somewhere else. Except, of course, when it doesn’t.

I don’t know what I’m getting at here. I think basically that sometimes you just need to watch My Fair Lady instead of vacuuming your apartment or doing your laundry or, you know, being employed. Sometimes.

Other times you need to make banana pudding. Like when your cousin Aaron comes over with his electric drill and builds you a whole closet so you no longer have to live out of a suitcase; that is a good time for banana pudding.

Aaron is the sole member of my family who lives here in San Francisco — the only one who also lives out West at all, actually — and I’m so glad to have him here. He makes this strange and wonderful city seem a bit more like home (he built me a closet, after all), and for that I am so very grateful.

So, you see? Banana pudding, with cookie crumbs and soft whipped cream and specks of whole vanilla bean. It’s time.

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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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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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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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Meyer Lemon Almond Loaf Cake

March 21, 2012 by mollygilbert520 11 Comments

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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Creamy Chocolate Date Bars

February 29, 2012 by mollygilbert520 8 Comments

It’s getting closer. The big date, I mean. You know, the date! The one on which I board a flight from New York City, wing my way out to California, and then stay there. Like, for good.

March 5th is that date, and there are signs everywhere telling me that it’s just around the corner. Signs like a wine- and pasta- and wine-filled going away party. Extra tight hugs. Empty shelves. The stack of brown cardboard boxes cluttering my apartment, and the men here to load them into a truck and move them across the country. Just a few signs.

As the date approaches, I’m getting antsy. Excited. Nostalgic. Hungry.

On the subject of dates and excitement and hunger, I’d like to tell you about these date bars. I’ve been on a date kick lately; it seems I buy a new carton every time I’m at the grocery store. I enjoy them, roughly chopped atop my cereal or oatmeal, or else straight from the carton; I rip each soft, sticky date open, wrest out the almond-shaped pit, and pop them, one after another, onto my happy tongue.

When the urge to bake something with my weekly carton of dates hit, I was initially reluctant to go with date bars. Date bars sound more like health food than dessert. But, after some thought, I reconsidered. I decided that, if I add some thick, rich and chocolatey ganache to my date bars, already filled with crunchy, oat-y cookie and creamy, naturally sticky-sweet dates, they might be okay.

They are.

So here’s to move dates and fruit dates, some of which are bittersweet and full of excitement, others of which are covered with chocolate ganache.

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Black and White (and Pink) Cookies

February 13, 2012 by mollygilbert520 10 Comments

The black and white cookie. The official unofficial cookie of New York City. Or is it the unofficial official cookie? Hm.

I made mine black and white and pink, for Valentine’s Day. Would Jerry Seinfeld approve? Probably not. But if you look to the cookie, you will see that these are really kind of perfect — they are a sweet sort of tribute, my personal homage to this city so nice, they named it twice; they are my little love letter to New York City, a city I’ve called home for three years, but which, quite soon, I will leave behind. For now.

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Sweet & Salty Snack Mix

February 7, 2012 by mollygilbert520 2 Comments

Last night was the Superbowl. While the Giants were busy beating the Patriots, game day food threw down. Chicken wings and blue cheese battled nachos and guacamole, and beer and burgers shoved their way around the table, barely leaving room for ganache-covered football-shaped cakes. Simpler snacks like pretzels and goldfish may have been left uneaten in the scuffle.

I know. Very sad.

Luckily, I’ve got you covered: sweet and salty snack mix. It’s a non-recipe sort of recipe, easily bagged and tied up with red ribbon, and it will make your Valentine smile. Probably. Unless your Valentine doesn’t like Goldfish and M&Ms, and really, if that’s the case, I’m pretty sure you’ve got bigger problems to deal with. Best of luck.

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Pink Grapefruit with Honey & Salt

January 18, 2012 by mollygilbert520 24 Comments

Eating grapefruit reminds me of my sister, Emily. Hi, Em.

Emily likes to eat grapefruit with sugar. Or rather, she likes to eat sugar with a bit of grapefruit underneath. At least, she did as a six-year-old. When Casey and I sprinkled sugar on top of our grapefruit halves, Emily unabashedly dumped spoonful upon spoonful on top of hers. But Emily’s always been bold like that.

Ever the middle child, Emily’s always been the bravest and brashest of us three Gilbert girls. Definitely the loudest. The most generous. A little bit of a spark plug. A tough cookie. When we were little, Casey and I, like most other kids in the neighborhood, mostly chose to wear a standard uniform of shorts, t-shirts and sneakers, but Emily insisted on wearing patterned tights, layers of jewelry, and dresses with skirts on top. Skirts over dresses. (She now works for the apparel company Anthropologie, so there you go).

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