faux bois cookies

When tender vegetation succumbs to killing frosts, it's the trees that lend interest to the winter landscape. And after the bounty of summer fades into fond memories, the trees grace our holiday tables with good things to eat.

Trees are so ubiquitous that it's easy to take them for granted, but just try to imagine life without them. Our houses would have a different character and our hearths would be cold. Cooking, as we know it, would have deviated from its path and taken the course of history and the progress of man along with it.

But trees are more than wood— they enrich our catalog of flavor. Without the things we harvest from trees there would be no sweet reduced sap to pour over our pancakes. Chewing gum may have never been invented. We would not know the comfort of apple pie or the aroma of a ripe peach. Our pantries would be destitute of sweet, oily nuts and our spice racks would lack the warmth of cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, and sweet bay. Winter, the bleakest season, would be unbearable without the spark of citrus.

So while we rejoice in our holiday hams and roasts and vegetables and grains, and all of the splendid things from pastures and fields, let us not forget to consider the trees and celebrate their bounty.

BISCUITS DE BOIS

These no-bake cookies are redolent of chocolate, chestnut, and bourbon. Bittersweet and boozy, they are decidedly adult treats. They were inspired by faux bois cement sculptures from the 19th century. Easy to make with these whimsical cookie cutters, they can alternately be made by cutting the dough freehand (or with a template) into branch shapes and pressing the surface with the tine of a fork to resemble bark. Make the dough well in advance to allow the flavors to mellow.

bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped 4 oz 113g
cocoa powder 3 Tblsp             11g
chestnut flour 3/8 cup            170g
egg white 1 large             40g
superfine sugar 2 Tblsp             26g
unsalted butter, softened 3.5 Tblsp          48g
bourbon 1.5 Tblsp          12g

Pulse the chocolate, cocoa powder, and chestnut flour in a food processor until the chocolate is the texture of sand.
In the bowl of an electric mixer, whip the egg white with the whisk attachment until it forms soft peaks. Gradually add the sugar while continuing to whip until stiff peaks form. Add the bourbon and whisk to incorporate. Remove the whisk and attach the paddle. Sprinkle the chocolate mixture over the meringue and beat on low for 1 minute. Add the soft butter to the crumbly mixture in the bowl and beat on low for 1-2 minutes, until a malleable dough forms. Wrap the dough in plastic wrap and age in the refrigerator for at least 2 days and up to 1 week.
Roll out the dough to 1cm/3/8” thickness. Cut out branch shapes and press woodgrain into top. Set out on a rack to dry for a few hours.
Makes about 1 dozen cookies.

PINE PALETTES

The base of these cookies are sables flavored with spruce-infused sugar. The best flavor comes from the tender young tips that appear in spring— winter tips have a woodier flavor that is best extracted by pulverizing in sugar.
The spruce sugar is used again in the icing to anchor the woodgrained chocolate veneers.

Spruce sables:
sugar                                              1 cup 200g
spruce tips                                      .28 oz                      8g
unsalted butter, softened 1 stick                      114g
flour                                              1 1/2 cups              190g
salt                                                  1/8 tsp                   .84g

Place the sugar and spruce tips in a blender and blend on high speed for 2-3 minutes until sugar is pulverized. Let stand 5 minutes and blend again for 1 minute. Sift the sugar through a medium sieve to remove spruce chaff. Sift again through a fine sieve to remove small particles. Measure out 1/2 cup/80g of spruce sugar and place in a mixing bowl. Reserve the remaining sugar for icing.
Add the butter and salt to the sugar in the bowl and beat on medium speed for 2 minutes until creamy. Gradually add the flour while beating on low speed until it is absorbed. Transfer dough onto a sheet of plastic wrap, wrap tightly and chill for at least 2 hours.
Roll out dough into a large rectangle 1/4"/6mm thick. Using a straight edge and a pastry wheel, cut dough into eighteen 1 1/2" x 2 1/2"/4cm x 6.5cm rectangles. Place on parchment-lined baking sheets. Bake in a preheated 350F/176C oven for 8 mins, or until cookies are baked through but still pale in color. Let cool.

Chocolate veneer:
dark chocolate, melted                                  3 oz                          85g
white chocolate, melted                                  4 oz                          113.5g
milk chocolate, melted                                  2 oz                             56.5g

Drop about 1 Tablespoon of dark chocolate on a sheet of acetate and spread thinly into a 3"/7.5cm band with an offset spatula. Place a woodgraining tool at the top of the band and slowly drag it through the chocolate while rocking it back and forth. Transfer the acetate onto a baking sheet and refrigerate until chocolate hardens. Blend the white chocolate with the milk chocolate until uniform in color. Remove the acetate from the refrigerator and let temper at room temperature for a few minutes. Spoon some of the white/milk chocolate mixture over the dark chocolate and spread evenly in a thin layer until woodgrain is completely covered. Return to refrigerator until hardened. Carefully peel woodgrained bands from acetate and set aside. Repeat 4 more times until you have completed 5 bands.
Cut the bands into 18 rectangles that are slightly smaller than the cookies using a straight edge and a knife that has been heated over a flame or in hot water.

Spruce icing:
reserved spruce sugar                                  6 Tblsps                      60g
unsalted butter, softened                              4 tsps                          21g
milk                                                              1 Tblsp                      18g

Cream the butter with the sugar, then blend in the milk.

To finish cookies: Spread a thin layer of icing on the center of each cookie. Top with a chocolate veneer, pressing gently to adhere.

Makes 18 cookies.

LOG SLICES

These cookies are made with 3 distinct batches of dough, flavored with products from 4 trees: acorn meal from White Oak (Quercus alba), maple sugar and syrup from Sugar Maple (Acer saccharum), mesquite flour from bean pods of the Mesquite tree (Prosopis), and ground pecans from the Pecan tree (Carya illinoinensis). Maple products and pecans are widely available, acorn meal can be found online or in Korean markets, and mesquite flour is found in health food shops.

Oak sapwood:
flour 2 cups 252g
acorn meal                                       1/2 cup                  66g
baking soda                                      1/2 tsp                   2.5g
salt                                                  1/8 tsp                     .84g
unsalted butter, softened                  1 1/2 sticks 170g
sugar 2/3 cup                  120g
egg                                                  1 large 50g

Maple heartwood:
flour 2 1/2 cups              338g
baking soda                                    1/2 tsp                  2.5g
salt                                                  1/8 tsp                     .84g
unsalted butter, softened       1 1/2 sticks 170g
maple sugar 2/3 cup                  120g
egg 1 large 50g

Mesquite bark:
flour                                            3/4 cups 100g
mesquite flour      1/2 cup    70g
baking soda                                      1/4 tsp 1.25g
salt                                                  pinch pinch
unsalted butter, softened 3/4 stick 85g
dark brown sugar 1/3 cup 52g
egg yolk   1 large 18g

finely chopped or ground pecans: 1 cup 90g
egg wash: 1 egg, lightly beaten

For each of the 3 doughs: In a medium bowl, whisk together the dry ingredients. Beat the butter with the sugar in a mixer bowl with the paddle attachment for 2 minutes on medium speed until light and creamy. Add the egg and continue beating until incorporated. Turn the speed to low and gradually add the dry ingredients in large spoonfuls until it is all absorbed and a malleable dough forms. For the Mesquite dough, stop beating while mixture is still crumbly. Tranfer to a bowl and cover with plastic wrap. Wrap the Oak and Maple doughs tightly in plastic. Chill all 3 doughs for at least 2 hours.
To form cookies: Cut off 1/4 of the Maple dough and roll into a cylinder that is 3/4"/2cm diameter x 6" /15.5cm long. Cut off slightly less than 1/3 of the Oak dough and roll out into a rectangle that is roughly 6" x 5" x 3/8" thick (1.5cm x 13cm x 1cm). Transfer dough onto a sheet of plastic wrap and trim one of the long edges so that it is straight. Brush the surface of the dough with the egg wash (glue) and place Maple cylinder along the straight edge. Using the plastic wrap to guide the dough evenly, roll the Oak dough around the Maple cylinder, pressing firmly, until it is completely wrapped, then trim the edge where they meet. The dough will crack as it bends, this is to be expected. Lay the flat of your palms on the center of the log and roll back and forth, exerting even pressure, moving hands slowly from the center of the log to the edges, until the outer layer of dough is smooth and the log has grown about 1"/2.5cm in length, and decreased slightly in diameter. Repeat the wrapping and rolling of each layer with remaining dough, alternating between the Maple and the Oak, and eggwashing between each, until the log is comprised of 6 layers and measures about 8"/20.5cm in length and about 2 1/2"/6.5cm in diameter.
Scatter the crumbly Mesquite dough onto a sheet of plastic wrap and pat into an 8" x 6"/20.5cm x 15.5cm rectangle. Brush the surface with eggwash and place the log along one of the long edges. Use the plastic wrap to completely encase the log with the Mesquite dough, pressing firmly to adhere, then repeat the rolling motion to form a compact log. Scatter the ground pecans on work surface and roll the log over them to irregularly coat the surface. Trim the ends of the log, wrap tightly in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 4 hours until firm.
To bake cookies: Slice the log 3/8"/1cm thick, rolling the log between slices to help it maintain its shape. Lay the slices out on a parchment-lined baking sheet and bake in a preheated 350 F/176C oven for 8-10 minutes.
Makes about 30 cookies.

INCENSE TREE

The dough for these stacked cookie sandwiches is fragrant with orange zest and spices that are harvested from different parts of trees: cinnamon (the inner bark of Cinnamomum verum), star anise (the fruit of Illicium verum), nutmeg (the seed of Myristica fragrans), cloves (the dried flower buds of Syzygium aromaticum), and allspice (the dried unripe fruit of Pimenta dioica).
The buttercream filling is flavored with frankincense, the dried tree sap from Boswellia sacra. Frankincense can be found in Middle Eastern markets or online— look for milky white tears, free of debris.

Spice dough:
flour                                          3 cups                      405g
baking powder                          1/2 tsp                  2.5g
salt                                              1/2 tsp                  3.2g
ground cinnamon                          1 1/2 tsp                  4.5g
ground star anise                      1 tsp                      3g
ground nutmeg                          1 tsp 3g
ground cloves                              1/2 tsp                     1.5g
ground allspice                          1/2 tsp                  1.5g
unsalted butter, softened              11 oz                       312g
sugar                                          1/2 cup                  95g
muscavado sugar                       1/2 cup                  83g
egg                                          1 large                  50g
microplaned orange zest              2 tsp                      5g

Frankincense buttercream:
water                                      1/2 cup 120g
frankincense tears                      1 1/2 Tblsp          17g
sugar                                          1/2 cup               100g
egg whites                              3 large                  90g
cream of tartar                          1/4 tsp                  .80g
unsalted butter, room temp          1/2 lb                  226g
lemon juice                              1 tsp                      15g

24 karat gold leaf (optional)

To make cookies: In a large bowl, whisk together the dry ingredients with the spices. Beat the butter with the sugar in a mixer bowl with the paddle attachment for 2 minutes on medium speed until light and creamy. Add the egg and orange zest and continue beating until incorporated. Turn the speed to low and gradually add the dry ingredients in large spoonfuls until it is all absorbed and a malleable dough forms. Wrap dough in plastic wrap and chill for 2 hours.
Roll the dough out to 1/4"/6mm thickness. With a set of 11 round cutters that graduate in size from 3/4"/2cm to 3 5/8"/9.25cm, cut 22 rounds by using each cutter twice. Place the cookie rounds on parchment-lined baking sheets and bake in a preheated 350F/176C oven for 6-8 minutes for the smaller cookies and 8-10 minutes for the larger ones. Allow to cool.
To make the frosting: place the water and frankincense tears in a small saucepan and bring to a boil. Cover pan and set aside for 10 minutes to infuse. Strain through a fine sieve. Rinse saucepan and return 1/4 cup/65g of the strained frankincense water to it. Pour the sugar into the center of the pan, stir gently to wet the sugar and set over medium-high heat. When sugar melts and syrup begins to reach 200F/ 93C, turn the heat to lowest setting.
In an electric mixer with the whisk attachment, beat the egg whites on high speed until frothy. Add the cream of tartar and beat until stiff peaks begin to form. Turn the mixer speed to low, return to the syrup and turn the heat up to high. Bring the syrup to 248F/120C (firm-ball stage) and immediately remove from heat. With the mixer still on low, slowly pour about 1/2 of the hot syrup down the side of the mixing bowl directly into the egg whites but avoiding the whisk. Turn mixer to high and beat for 30 seconds. Return mixer speed to low and slowly add the remaining syrup to the meringue in the same manner. Turn the speed back to high and beat for 2 minutes. Allow the meringue to cool completely before proceeding.
When meringue has cooled, add the butter, 1 Tblsp at a time, while beating on medium speed. If at any time it appears to have seperated, turn the speed to high and beat until it becomes creamy again. When al of the butter is incorporated, turn the mixer to low and beat in the lemon juice. Scrape buttercream into a pastry bag fitted with a #12 (7mm) round tip.
To finish tree: Line up the cookie rounds into 11 pairs and pipe the buttercream onto the bottom rounds all the way to the edges. Lightly press the top rounds onto the buttercream to form 11 cookie sandwiches. Stack the cookies on serving plate, starting with the largest and graduating to smallest, using a small dot of buttercream between each cookie to hold them together. If using gold leaf, press the tip of a small, damp brush on a corner of a leaf and pull to tear randomly. With the piece of gold leaf still attached to the tip of brush, transfer to cookie tree, pressing on a section of exposed buttercream to adhere. Continue until desired effect is achieved.

venison pepper banon

I adore spice cookies with cheese… cream cheese sandwiched between two wafers of thin gingerbread… blue cheese spread on gingersnaps… soft molasses cookies with melted taleggio (and beets!)… toasted lebkuchen and almond crumbs scattered over burrata…. these make me very happy.

And so,when this liquid-ripe banon crossed my path, it could not escape its destiny with the naked pepper cookies. Nor could the gamey venison tenderloin, a gift from a hunter who generously gave up what he considered the best part of the animal. Add to that: bittersweet ginger shards, roasted persimmon caramel, and tiny green peppercress seeds, and I'm very happy indeed.

pepper cookies

It just isn't Christmas until I've tasted that first warm bite of spice cookies. Gingerbread, gingersnaps, lebkuchen, speculaas, hermits— I love them all!

As their names imply, pfeffernusse, pepparkakor, and piparkakut are spice cookies that are set apart from the rest by the inclusion of pepper. But if you're expecting the fragrant, tingling burn of piperine, you might be disappointed as even the oldest recipes for these cookies contain only small amounts of pepper, whose flavor is overshadowed by other pungent spices.

Don't get me wrong— I still enjoy these cookies— it's just that they don't quite live up to the promise of their name. And since it was their name that captured my imagination in the first place, it was high time to re-imagine what a pepper cookie can be.

clockwise from top left: long pepper (Piper longum), pink peppercorns (Schinus terebinthifolius), black peppercorns (Piper nigrum), sichuan pepper (Zanthoxylum piperitum), grains of paradise (Aframomum melegueta), green peppercorns (immature Piper nigrum), center: chile tepin (Capsicum annuum var. glabriusculum)

pepper cookies
makes about 5 dozen 2" cookies

Chocolate rye malt is used in the production of dark beers and can be purchased from beer brewing suppliers. It gives these cookies a pleasant bitter edge, deep roasted aroma, and darker color. If unavailable, substitute equal amount of wheat or rye flour that has been slowly roasted in a low oven to a dark chocolate color.

spice blend: 6 black peppercorns, 5 green peppercorns, 8 pink peppercorns, 1/4 tsp sichuan pepper, 1/4 tsp grains of paradise, 1/2 of a long pepper, 3 chile tepin, 4" piece of cinnamon stick, 4 whole cloves, 2 cardamom pods, 8 coriander seeds, 1/2 tsp coarse salt

Place all ingredients in a spice blender and grind to a fine powder. Sift ground spices through a fine sieve and re-grind any coarse pieces.

245g (2 cups) flour
14g (3 Tblsps) finely ground chocolate rye malt, or dark toasted flour
2.5g (1/2 tsp) baking powder
1.25g (1/4 tsp) baking soda
85g (3 oz) unsalted butter, softened
150g (5.25 oz) muscavado or dk brown sugar
1 egg
7g microplaned fresh galangal root, or ginger root

Place the ground spice mixture in a bowl with the flour, chocolate rye malt, baking powder, and baking soda. Whisk until well blended. In the bowl of an electric mixer, cream the butter and sugar on medium speed until lightened. Add the egg and galangal and mix until incorporated. Add the dry ingredients and mix on low speed until a dough forms. Wrap dough in plastic wrap or place in an airtight container and age in refrigerator for 2 days to allow flavors to bloom and mellow.
When ready to bake, preheat oven to 176C/350F. Roll out dough to .63 cm/ 1/4" thickness and cut into desired shapes. Bake for 10-12 minutes. When cool, dust with confectioners sugar.

(ground and whole) chocolate malted rye berries

seasoned puffed pasta

Seasoned puffed pasta makes a great snack. I like to keep cooked, dehydrated pasta in ziplock bags to fry and season for last minute munchies, cocktail snacks and soup garnishes. They're really good tossed in salads, too.

The potential seasonings are infinite. Here are two of my current favorites:

Quintessential Mac 'n Cheese: Cabot makes a product called Cheddar Shake— a sharp white cheddar powder that has enough moisture to cling to and thickly coat puffed pasta. These really are The Cheesiest.

For something more exotic: I toast fenugreek and coriander seeds, grind them with grains of paradise (melegueta pepper), fennel pollen, meyer lemon zest, salt, and a touch of citric acid, and sprinkle it onto the pasta as soon as it comes out of the fryer. The spices cling better when the pasta's surface is still wet and the heat releases their essences.

Note: Virtually any sauce or paste can be spread thinly on silpat and dehydrated along with the pasta (to save energy), then ground and used as a seasoning. I've had success with (reduced) marinara sauce, bbq sauce, mole, and curry pastes.

amazake strawberry kinome

It was on a blustery winter afternoon that I first sampled amazake. It came in the form of a traditional Japanese beverage, served warm with a sprinkle of grated ginger. Learning that it was essentially just fermented rice and water, I was amazed at the depth of flavor and sweetness that koji had coaxed out of the rice. And there was a richness about the way that it felt in my mouth that reminded me of dairy. It was, I was told, the vegan eggnog.

Recently, I had a visitor come to my home to see my newly remodeled kitchen. Because he writes about food, I wanted to cook for him and was eager to showcase some of the products that I had fermented. For dessert, I made an amazake ice cream based on the beverage, using coconut water for added flavor. It was really an experiment, as I was curious about the texture of churned and frozen amazake. The result was not as creamy as I had hoped and the inherent sweetness had muted to a mere whisper— which typically occurs with freezing. We both agreed that it showed promise, but needed work.

We also agreed that the flavor of strawberries and kinome with the amazake was quite special, so that part of the dish would remain intact.

Days later, I made a new ice cream with pureed amazake, cream, and sugar. It was a vast improvement over the original, but I couldn't help but feel that I had missed an important opportunity.

As someone who cooks customized food for a living, the upsurge of food intolerances is a salient concern. Coeliac disease, lactose intolerance, and food allergies are serious conditions that I have learned to make allowances for. Then there's an ever-increasing number of people who choose to refrain from entire food groups such as dairy or meat, or follow 'lifestyle diets' that exclude white powders and saturated fats. Add to that, the political eaters who prohibit foie gras, veal, unsustainable fish, factory farmed proteins, and unorganic produce; or picky eaters who refuse to eat (for example) anything with garlic or onions, and you can begin to see why chefs are so frustrated— some to the point of choosing to make NO allowances.

I don't have that luxury.

When a guest at a dinner party unexpectedly announces that there is something on the carefully planned menu that they can't or won't eat, I have to accommodate them. No excuses.

The upside is that when you feed someone with special dietary needs a delicious and satisfying meal that doesn't offend their bodies or minds, they are exceedingly grateful. Altruism aside, a happy client is always a boost to the ego.

Over time, I've learned to make adjustments to fit most diets, but vegan desserts continue to challenge me. In a pinch, I can turn to fresh fruit and sorbet or granita, but that often feels like a copout. So I reexamined amazake's potential to add texture, natural sweetness, and moisture to desserts that otherwise rely on dairy products and refined sugars, and I decided that an ice cream was a good place to start. To the pureed amazake, I added coconut milk for richness, rice syrup for added sweetness, and guar gum to improve the mouthfeel. The addition of sichuan pepper was specific to this dish to enhance the flavor of strawberries and kinome.

While I'm pleased with how the amazake ice cream turned out, if I were given a choice between the sweet cream version and the vegan one, I would invariably choose the former.

I'm grateful that I have that luxury.

amazake ice cream ✢ puffed forbidden rice
strawberry ✢ sake ✢ kinome

vegan amazake ice cream

400g coconut milk
260g amazake
20g rice syrup
5g vanilla
4g lightly toasted and ground sichuan peppercorns (optional)
3g guar gum

Place all ingredients in a high speed blender and blend 3 minutes, or until very smooth. Scrape mixture into an ice cream freezer and proceed according to manufacture's directions.

kinome

I've been in hot pursuit of this plant since I first tasted its young leaves over a year ago. Nearly gave up until http://www.raintreenursery.com came to the rescue.

Kinome is the young leaf of Zanthoxylum piperitum, a species of prickly ash. It's the same plant that produces sichuan pepper. The leaves taste lemony fresh and produce a mild tongue-tingling sensation.

Although I bought it for its leaves, I'm curious to see it bloom and fruit. Hope I can stop myself from stripping it before that happens.

curry cake

Perhaps the best thing about rebuilding a kitchen from scratch is that everything will finally get a home in a place that makes sense— at last, form will follow function. My spices, for instance, were once scattered around in cupboards wherever they would fit. Soon, they will live together in their very own cabinet; on shallow floor-to-ceiling shelves, in shiny new jars, each clearly labeled.
I think they're as excited as I am.
In fact, I know they are.

I'm pretty sure that they planted the idea of spice cake in my head while I was organizing them. I tried to shake it off because, frankly, I've been baking more judiciously lately. But it was of no use. I think I heard them cheer when I pulled out my go-to recipe for spice cake, which made cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and ginger very happy, but caused some others to feel slighted. Five bold spices came forward and asked "Why can't we play too? You know we play well together…you always put us in your garam masala."
They had a point, but did I really want to make a curry cake?
I did.

Conceding to a new direction, I scrapped the spice cake recipe and decided that a yogurt cake would be a more appropriate platform for the savory spices. I measured them out individually, planning to blend the spices together into the finished batter, but they had other ideas. They didn't want to be muddled together. They each wanted to star in their own individual layer and be united as a cake.
"Really?" I asked, "you want me to make nine different layers?"
They did.

It wasn't as complicated as I thought it would be. I simply weighed out the batter in grams and divided by nine. Then I added just enough spice to each batch to allow each flavor to come through, but not overpower the others. This was all going well until I tasted the turmeric batter, which had the distinct flavor of musty cardboard. I didn't want to insult the old chap, but I had to be honest. He took it pretty well— considered it for awhile, then invited the other spices to join him.
"We'll be the curry layer… the reference for the cake."
What a trooper.

After the layers were baked, cooled, and trimmed, I joined them together with coconut frosting. Because turmeric stepped up and took one for the team, I gave him a distinct layer where his vivid color could be best appreciated.

As I ate the curry cake, I found myself tasting each layer with a hyper awareness, then searching for that unique flavor in the blended layer. I thought about the process of synthesizing— how we often blend things together to create something new and synergistic. Taking them apart, not to deconstruct, but to isolate, reminded me of the importance of being mindful of individuality, while celebrating commonality.
For me, it was a lesson about so much more than food.

curry cake
mango chutney ice cream

instant ginger tea

Ginger root is an indispensable ingredient in my kitchen, but you won't find any in my refrigerator. Like the world outside my door, it is in a state of deep freeze.
Freezing fresh ginger root not only preserves it (no more tossing out shriveled, forgotten nobs), it makes it user friendly. Good riddance to the days of scrubbing it against a porcelain grater, then picking out the stringy fibers. Now, when I want fresh ginger flavor, I quickly microplane the frozen rhizome directly on food; the gratings (fibers and all) are as fine as snow, and the rest goes back in the freezer. When I want fresh ginger juice, I pull a nob or two from the freezer and let it thaw. The softened rhizome can then be easily squeezed and readily releases its juice.

Ginger has long been known to possess many health benefits that range from settling an upset tummy to fighting off colds and flu— the reason why I routinely drink ginger tea in winter. I used to have a ritual of squeezing thawed ginger into hot water, then stirring in honey, but that changed when I found these packets of ginger-honey crystals at an Asian market. I've tried other ginger teas, but found they lacked the mouth-numbing fieriness that I love about fresh ginger. These crystals don't; they contain only three ingredients: cane sugar, honey, and ginger, and they dissolve instantly in hot or cold liquids. Sometimes I forego the liquid entirely and eat them out of hand, but today, with the snow piling up outside, I'm going for the comfort of tea.

While surfing around the internet this morning, looking for ideas for the ginger-honey crystals, I found this article at Salon.com by Francis Lam about spicy ginger ale that made me wish my hot tea was cold and fizzy. I stopped buying soda when the boys came along, but every once in awhile I crave the carbonation. For those occasions, I keep CO2 cartridges on hand. Thanks to the ginger-honey crystals and a soda siphon, I was able to enjoy an instant glass of sweet, spicy ginger ale without trudging through the snow.

All this tea and soda got me thinking about a hot carbonated tea. I tried putting hot ginger honey tea through a soda siphon, but the bubbles dissipated before I was halfway through the cup. Before giving up, I thought of asking the Twitterverse for help. Jeffrey Stoneberger (@Eatmecookme) came to the rescue— carbonate a cold drink, then heat in microwave. After doing it his way (which, he said, is how they do it at Husk Restaurant in Charleston), I sat down to my third ginger-honey beverage of the day. This one, though, was the most enjoyable of all, as it offered hot soothing comfort with the giddiness of carbonation. The only problem: do I call it carbonated tea or hot soda?

coconut fig curry

Coconuts were introduced to Europe by Portuguese explorers who brought them back from India. Vasco da Gama's sailors thought the round, hairy fruit (actually, a seed), with the black eyes and nose, resembled "Coco", a folkloric ghost/witch/monster; the precursor to the jack-o-lantern. When it reached England, "nut" was added to the end and the name stuck.

Although the coconut palm (Cocos nucifera) and the fig tree (Ficus carica) have little in common except for similarity of flavor and aroma, they sure taste good together.

I can't help but wonder if 16th century Europeans, upon opening a coconut for the first time, thought that it smelled like fig leaves. I also wonder what they would've thought of this dessert: a familiar and beloved fruit, married to newly-discovered treasures from faraway lands.

coconut fig terrine ✢ curry tea foam ✢ agastache blossoms

Fig leaf tea makes a light and flavorful base for an aromatic curry broth. Further lightened into a foam, it lands weightless on the tongue and dissipates, leaving only an impression of warm spice.

Download recipe: coconut fig terrine with curry tea

gingerbread goat cheese ham

The birth of this dish started around the holidays, when I picked up the mingled scent of gingerbread and baked ham and thought that they made sense together. After all, we stud ham with cloves and glaze them with brown sugar— not such a big leap to gingerbread.

My first inclination was to go basic: bake a loaf of ginger bread and make a ham and cheese sandwich. Maybe grilled or toasted a la Croque-monsieur. But then citrus season got in the way and it was forgotten.

The idea popped up again when my son, who has a penchant for spice cookies, requested gingersnaps. I happened to have on hand some petit billy, a soft, tangy goat cheese from the town of Billy in the Loire Valley*. I also had reserved a nub of Pop's magic ham, not enough to slice, but just enough to microplane into a soft heap of ham filings. Together, these flavors were a fantastic combination— sweet spice, milky tang, savory smoke— and inspired a different kind of sandwich that befit the season; an ice cream sandwich.

For the ice cream, I took my base recipe and swapped out the petit billy for some of the heavy cream and cut the sugar by half. I tweaked my gingerbread cookies to render them softer and toned down the spices. The whipped rhubarb (rhubarb syrup whipped with 2% versawhip) was added for color, texture, and fruity acidity.

soft gingerbread cookies
makes about 4 dozen 3" cookies

1/2 cup (113g) unsalted butter, softened
1 cup (200g) sugar
1 egg
1/4 cup (72g) molasses
1/4 cup (72g) honey
1/2 cup (115g) heavy cream, whipped
3 cups (375g) flour
1 1/2 tsp (7g) baking soda
1 tsp (2g) cinnamon
1 tsp (2g) ground ginger
1 tsp (2g) ground cloves
1 Tblsp (7g) grated fresh gingerroot

In a mixer bowl, cream the butter with the sugar until pale and creamy. Add the egg and beat until incorporated. On low speed, beat in the molasses and the honey, followed by the whipped cream. In another bowl, combine the remaining ingredients until well blended. Add half to the butter mixture, beating well until incorporated. Repeat with remainder of dry ingredients.
Chill cookie dough until it stiffens, about 1 hour.
Preheat oven to 375F/190C. Roll out dough 1/4" thick on floured surface. Cut into desired shapes. Transfer to parchment-lined baking sheets.
Bake cookies for 6-10 minutes, depending on size, or until edges darken and crisp, but centers remain soft.

*I love the word-play of a goat cheese made in a town named Billy, and sandy cookies in Sablé-sur-Sarthe, both in the Loire Valley. Oh, those ironic French.