Lemon Yogurt Pancakes

Every year over the holidays my mom and I watch The Sound of Music and, subsequently, get the songs stuck in our heads for weeks. I always enjoyed the scene where Maria calmed the children by singing about her favorite things, but I have to admit, my lyrics would be a heck of a lot different than whiskers on kittens and cream colored ponies:
 
“Thin New York pizza and dry apple cider
Custard-filled cream puffs and wine by the fire…”
 
Ok, Tristan said I have to stop before everyone knows that I'm a dork. But if I were allowed to continue, I would certainly work savory pancakes in there. Zucchini, sweet corn, green pea, you name it. But the love ends at the standard buttermilk flapjack. I like the idea of ordering a piping hot stack but they're just too starchy and inevitably leave me feeling 10 pounds heavier.
 
That said, I recently had an inexplicable hankering for sweet pancakes, and my cravings don't go away until they're satisfied. To avoid the infamous flour-induced coma, I decided to make a version using yogurt, lemon zest and whipped egg whites. The result? Seriously fluffy, light-as-a-feather, uncommonly good pancakes.

The key here is separating the egg yolks from the whites. You could easily skip this step (simply mix whole eggs into the yogurt) but you'd be missing out on some incredible texture. Folding in whipped egg whites produces a batter that's impossibly airy and delicate. 

Requiring only 7 tablespoons of flour per batch, these lemony little cakes will simultaneously satisfy your pancake craving and perpetuate it.

Lemon Yogurt Pancakes
A lighter version of the American breakfast classic, these are made with yogurt instead of milk and a bit of lemon zest for freshness.
 
Makes 14 3-inch pancakes
 
1 cup plain yogurt (I use organic whole milk yogurt)
2 large eggs, divided
Zest of one lemon
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
7 tablespoons all purpose flour
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
 
In a medium bowl, whisk together the yogurt, egg yolks, lemon zest and vanilla. In a small bowl, stir together the flour, sugar, baking soda and salt. Add the dry ingredients to the wet and stir until just combined (do not over-mix).
 
Using an electric mixer beat the egg whites on high speed until stiff peaks form. Gently fold the egg whites into the batter, being careful to retain as much air as possible.
 
Heat a cast iron skillet or griddle over medium-low heat (err on the side of lower heat to avoid burnt outsides and raw middles). Add enough melted butter to lightly coat the bottom of the pan - you can do this by brushing, swirling or, as I do, running the end of a stick of butter over the pan's surface. Pour in the batter in scant 1/4-cup-fulls. Cook for 2-3 minutes or until bubbles appear on the surface. Flip carefully and cook another 1-2 minutes. Repeat with remaining batter.
 
Serve in a stack with butter, yogurt and real maple syrup.

Roasted Butternut Squash with Citrus Compound Butter and Rosemary-Scented Sugared Pecans

 

A friend recently asked if I had any special Thanksgiving recipes to share but to be honest, I’ve never had to host the big dinner at my house. Most years my contribution involves appetizers, homemade bread or pies. And then the other day one of my coworkers shared her very popular, very simple annual dish. It involves roasting butternut squash, drizzling it with melted lemon butter and sprinkling it with chopped rosemary and walnuts. I decided, two days before take-off, to give it a go.

There are many possible variations to this recipe. Since we’re in the midst of the holiday season I thought an herbed citrus compound butter would be beautiful. And while walnuts are lovely, why not add a bit of sweetness with rosemary-scented sugared pecans? The results were dazzling.

 

There’s no need to be intimidated by the term compound butter; it’s just a fancy way of referring to butter that’s been flavored. If you don’t want to bother, simply melt the butter, mix in the zests, rosemary and salt, and drizzle it over the roasted squash. And if you'd rather skip the rosemary sugared pecans, plain roasted pecans chopped with a bit of fresh rosemary will also make a nice topping (you may want to sprinkle a bit of brown sugar over the squash wedges to give them that sweet-savory component). 

This Thanksgiving we’re heading to Tristan’s aunt and uncle’s house and I’m responsible for the bread (I’m thinking a wheat-sheaf Pain de Champagne) so stay tuned!

Rosemary Sugared Pecans 

1 cup pecans

2 tablespoons butter

2 slightly rounded tablespoons packed light brown sugar

Pinch of cayenne

1 teaspoon finely chopped fresh rosemary

Coarse salt  

Roasted Butternut Squash 

1 medium butternut squash (or squash of choice, delicata is shown here)

Olive oil

Kosher salt 

Rosemary Citrus Compound Butter

The below amounts make more than you'll need for 1 roasted butternut squash.

 

1/2 cup (1 stick) butter, softened

1 tablespoon finely chopped fresh rosemary

2 teaspoons lemon zest

1 teaspoon orange zest

Pinch of salt

For the pecans: preheat the oven to 350˚F. Spread pecan halves in a single layer on a rimmed baking sheet. Transfer to the oven and roast for 8-10 minutes or until they are golden and fragrant. Remove and set aside.

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper (or if you don’t have any parchment, a lightly buttered sheet will do). Set aside.

In a large skillet heat the butter, sugar, cayenne and rosemary over medium-high. Once the butter has melted, add the nuts and cook, stirring frequently, for 5 minutes. Transfer the nuts to the prepared baking sheet and sprinkle with a good pinch of coarse salt. Cool to room temperature, stirring occasionally.

For the squash: preheat oven to 400˚F.

If you’d like to serve the squash skinless, use a vegetable peeler to remove the skin. Carefully cut the squash lengthwise in half; scoop out the seeds and fibers with a spoon. Cut each half in half again and rub the cut side of each quarter lightly with olive oil. Place wedges cut side up in a baking dish and sprinkle with a pinch of salt. Transfer to the oven and roast until the edges have browned and the flesh is tender, 40-60 minutes.

For the compound butter: mix all the ingredients together in a small bowl. The butter can be used immediately or rolled on parchment paper into a log shape, wrapped in plastic and frozen.

To assemble: Place squash wedges on a serving platter lined with rosemary sprigs. Top each with a dollop of compound butter and a sprinkling of crunchy pecans. Garnish with a bit of orange zest, if desired.

Pappardelle with Spinach, Mascarpone and Lemon

 

Like most people, I prefer plain, soothing food when I have a troubled stomach (rice pudding and congee have saved the day many-a-time). This was my predicament a few days ago and I couldn’t bear the thought of eating anything with the suggestion of meat or spice. But all is well that ends well because that’s exactly what led me to this dish.
 
I adore Jamie Oliver. And when it comes to his recipes, I find them down-to-earth and repeatedly delicious. This particular dish was no exception. Spinach is cooked down into a tender wilt and then simmered with a dash of cream, mascarpone and Parmesan before getting folded into hot noodles. I can see why he claims that kids love this meal, even if they don’t normally eat spinach. It’s probably the same reason why it tastes good on an unsettled stomach: because it’s comforting, creamy and just plain good.
 
Pappardelle with Spinach, Mascarpone and Lemon
You can easily replace the lemon zest with freshly grated nutmeg for a warmer, nuttier flavor. Adapted from a Jamie Oliver recipe.
 
10-16 oz pappardelle, tagliatelle or spaghetti
Olive oil
2 teaspoons butter
2 cloves garlic, minced
1-2 bunches fresh spinach, washed well and spun dry
½ cup heavy cream
5 ounces mascarpone cheese
Zest of one large lemon
Salt and pepper
2 handfuls freshly grated Parmesan cheese
 
Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. If using dry pasta, add it to water and cook according to package instructions. If using fresh, add it after beginning the sauce since it will only take a few quick minutes to cook. 

 
In a large skillet, heat a drizzle of olive oil and the butter over medium heat until butter melts; add the garlic and cook for 1 minute. Add the spinach, one handful at a time, and cook until wilted and some of the water has evaporated, about 5 minutes. Add the cream, mascarpone, lemon zest and a little ladle of the pasta water. Bring to a simmer and season with salt and pepper.
 
Drain the pasta, reserving some of the liquid, and stir into the spinach sauce. Add the Parmesan and toss well. Loosen up the sauce with a bit more pasta water (the sauce congeals and thickens quickly when plated so a little loosening at this point works wonders). Check for seasonings, and then serve immediately topped with grated Parmesan.

Strawberry Rhubarb Compote

My mom should be in the running for the title of "Best Pie Baker in the U.S. of A." I'm not kidding. I've eaten homemade slices all over this country and nary a one has held a candle to Mom's pastry perfection. I know, I know. Lots of people think their moms' pies are the best but this is for reals. I've seen complete strangers look up in utter disbelief after taking a bite. The secret is in her impossibly flaky crust, plus her fillings are never too sweet. And her famous apple pie is always served still slightly warm. Living on opposite coasts proves especially difficult this time of year - I'm talking about rhubarb season. Her garden fresh strawberry rhubarb pie is heavenly while her single crust rhubarb custard pie is down right celestial. Try as I may, I'll never attain such a level of baking greatness. Thank God for compote.

Strawberry rhubarb compote is one of the easiest, most delectable desserts imaginable. I've started adding both lemon zest and juice to mine, which imparts a refreshing depth of flavor. As opposed to gently spooning compote over ice cream, I prefer a bowl full of warm sauce with a dollop of vanilla bean ice cream in the middle, just for contrast.

I may not be turning out nationally acclaimed pies, but this compote certainly holds its own.

Strawberry Rhubarb Compote
The combination of tart rhubarb, sweet strawberries and refreshing lemon create a compote with flavorful depth. Eat alone, with ice cream or over chicken.

4 stalks rhubarb, washed and trimmed
1 lb strawberries, washed and hulled
5 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon lemon zest
1 1/2 tablespoons lemon juice

With a sharp paring knife, strip and discard the outer fibrous layer of the rhubarb stalks. Cut the stalks into 1/2-inch pieces and place in a medium sized saucepan.

Cut strawberries into quarters and add to rhubarb. Sprinkle with sugar and lemon zest. Being careful to avoid seeds, squeeze lemon juice over fruit. Toss well.

Over medium-high heat, bring fruit to a simmer, stirring often to dissolve the sugar (the rhubarb will release a lot of liquid). Continue cooking until rhubarb is soft and the liquid has reduced a bit, about 8 minutes. Let cool slightly and serve warm with ice cream.

The First Taste of Spring

Tristan and I went to the University District farmers market on Saturday with the simple intentions of getting breakfast (buckwheat crepes) and buying a dozen free range eggs. Good thing I brought two bags because we filled them both. Not only did we get three types of lettuce and two parsley starters for our urban garden window boxes, we filled the kitchen counters with curly fiddle heads, butter potatoes, rhubarb, freshly picked spinach, our beloved eggs and, the surest sign of spring, asparagus.

The first of our treasures to be gobbled up were the leafy greens. And what a breakfast it was! I quick boiled the spinach, sprinkled it with a bit of apple cider vinegar, topped it with fried eggs and served the whole shebang with buttered, sprouted grain toast. There's nothing quite like bright, yellowy-orange yolk running into fresh greens. Truly and utterly satisfying.

We decided to have the asparagus for dinner. When I lived in Europe I collected all sorts of recipes and one in particular came to mind. It was from the Swiss magazine Kochen and called for tender white asparagus to be pan fried in a light, crunchy almond coating. The picture alone makes my mouth water every time and I couldn't wait to try it. However, I had green asparagus and something told me it wouldn't quite translate. Back to the bookshelf it went.

My inspiration finally came in the form of Gourmet's May 2009 issue: Lemony Risotto with Asparagus and Shrimp. Bingo! I've always loved the hypnotic process of stirring hot broth into Arborio rice until it gives up its starch and asks for more liquid. I tend to get lost in the creamy swirls. I am happy to say that after 30 minutes, we had a dish that welcomed Spring as if it were royalty.


Lemony Asparagus and Shrimp Risotto
A wonderful way to use the first asparagus of the season. Adapted from Gourmet, May 2009.

4 cups chicken stock
1 cup water
1 bunch asparagus, trimmed and cut into 1-inch pieces
2 tablespoons butter, divided
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 large shallot, finely chopped
1 1/2 cups Arborio rice
1 glass dry white wine
3/4 lb uncooked medium shrimp, peeled and deveined
1 tablespoon grated lemon zest
1/2 cup freshly grated parmesan
Freshly chopped parsley

In a medium saucepan, bring broth and water to a simmer. Add asparagus and simmer, uncovered, until just tender and bright green, about 4 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer asparagus to an ice bath to stop the cooking process. Drain and set aside. Keep broth at a bare simmer.

In a 4-quart pan over medium heat, cook shallot in 1 tablespoon butter and olive oil until softened, about 4 minutes. Add rice and cook, stirring constantly, for one minute. Add wine and cook, stirring constantly, until absorbed. Add 1/2 cup broth mixture and briskly simmer, stirring constantly, until absorbed. Continue adding broth 1/2 cup at a time, letting each addition be absorbed before adding the next, until rice is creamy and tender but still al dente, about 20 minutes. Stir in the shrimp and cook until just cooked through, about 3 minutes. Stir in the asparagus, lemon zest, remaining tablespoon butter, parmesan, parsely and salt and pepper to taste. Serve warm.