With the shorter days, cold weather, and abundance of gatherings, winter is probably the season I cook the most. I love the way the oven warms up the whole drafty house and fills it with the smell of something tasty, and we usually have the fireplace going on a daily basis at that point, which mixes the smell of good food with that of a roaring fire, and the combination of the two is probably one of my favorite smells in the world. I also love that so many friends and family come into town during this time of year, so our house is always full of familiar and friendly voices. When I’m entertaining, my go-tos are always things that can be made ahead of time, and in this menu the Eggnog, Roasted Garlic Sourdough with Kopanisti, Winter Cheese Board with Herbed Dates, and Buttermilk-Beet Cake with Cream-Cheese Buttercream can all be made either earlier the same day or prepared the day before to cut down on the kitchen craziness of hosting a big dinner (I recommend pulling the roast chicken out of the oven closer to serving time, though, for optimum heat and tastiness). I hope this menu helps guide you through hosting holiday gatherings of your own and provides you and your friends with a delicious array of hearty sustenance!
Winter Cheese Board with Herbed Dates
Roasted Garlic Sourdough with Kopanisti
Roasted Chicken with Persimmon and Port Glaze
Buttermilk-Beet Cake with Cream-Cheese Buttercream
“Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home.”
—EDITH SITWELL
More than 95 percent of the fruit and vegetable varieties that were available for sale in the United States in 1906 are extinct today. This is due both to the growth of factory farming, where a handful of varieties of each plant have been sown over and over again, and to the increase in urban populations. When society was more agrarian, people grew their own food and saved their own seeds, passing specific heirloom varieties down from generation to generation. Since the majority of society now lives in cities, the ability and desire of individuals to grow their own food has significantly decreased. If we continue down the road we’re on in terms of food biodiversity, we’ll be at risk of one plant disease being able to wipe out a huge amount of our food supply.
This is why it is so important to source seeds from organizations that are preserving and reproducing heirloom fruit and vegetable varieties. Not only are you creating a more biodiverse and disease-resistant garden, but you’re opening up your kitchen to a new world of flavors, shapes, and colors. Deep purple potatoes, sweet green radishes with a neon pink interior, dark green watermelons dusted with bright yellow spots—there’s a whole rainbow of food out there waiting to be shared and enjoyed. All you have to do is sow a single seed. (See this page for a list of recommended seed sources.)
I’ve been gardening my entire adult life (and some of my childhood), so I have quite the collection going at this point. I easily have more than twenty thousand seeds in my home, from hundreds of different varieties of plants. To keep things organized, I recommend grouping the seeds by season and placing them in alphabetical order within each season. That way, when it’s early fall, you don’t have to dig through the melon seeds to get to the cabbage. But first you need to get started. To follow are a few tips on how to collect seeds from the foods you have on hand.
To start saving your own seeds, make sure that you only collect those of open-pollinating plants. The seeds of hybrid varieties won’t produce the exact same variety the next year (the original seed packet will tell you if the plant is open-pollinating or hybrid). I have tips for saving the seeds of different plants below, but a good rule of thumb as to whether or not a seed has dried out enough to be stored is whether the seeds break rather than bend. If they break, they’re good to go; if they bend, they need more drying time. Once completely dried, seeds should be stored in a labeled, airtight, and waterproof container, such as a tiny resealable and reusable plastic bag. If kept in an airtight container in a cool, dark, dry place, they will keep for up to two years. After that, the germination rate starts to decrease.
—For cucumber, melon, and squash seeds, cut the fruit in half and use a spoon to gently scoop out the seeds. You can remove any remaining membrane by running the seeds under water, while gently scraping them against the inside of a sieve, or by letting them soak in water for two days before drying them off and setting them on a glass or ceramic plate to dry out completely. Cucumbers, melons, and summer squash should be grown in the summer, while winter squash can be grown during early to mid-autumn.
—For peppers, just scrape the seeds out of a ripe pepper and leave them on a glass or ceramic plate to dry out completely. Peppers should be grown in the summer months.
—For beans and pea seeds, allow the beans pods to ripen and dry out on the vine. When you shake it and hear seeds rattling around inside the dried husks, remove the husks from the plant. Allow them to continue to dry out indoors in an even layer for 2 to 3 weeks before shelling them and reserving the seeds. Pole and string beans should generally be grown in summer, while peas should be grown in the spring.
—For tomatoes, use a spoon to remove the membrane pouch with the seeds. Place it in a glass and add as much water as there are seeds and tomato membrane. Allow it to sit, fermenting, out of direct sunlight until a layer of white or gray mold develops on top and there are bubbles at the surface, which can take several days, depending on the temperature of the room. Add enough water to double the volume of the mixture and stir quickly. The mold and debris will float at the top and the good seeds will stay at the bottom. Use a spoon to scoop out the floating materials, add more water, and repeat until the seeds at the bottom are clean and free of debris. Remove the seeds, pat them dry with a paper towel, and set them out on a glass or ceramic plate to dry out completely. Tomatoes should be grown in the summer.
The holidays are the busiest time of the year for home entertaining, and putting out a cheese plate is one of the most common appetizer solutions. The only problem is choosing from the never-ending variety of cheeses out there, which can be slightly overwhelming. So, to make things simple, I have a list of my favorite cheese varieties below, which, when served together, cover all the bases of cheesy flavor so that any one of your guests will be able to find a favorite. Going from softest to firmest, first there’s Vermont Creamery Bijou. This is a mild aged goat cheese that comes in a pack of two delicious, mildly tangy, and very creamy medallions. Second is Cowgirl Creamery Mt. Tam, a triple-crème aged cow’s-milk cheese with a tender white rind, soft spreadable interior, and notes of white mushroom. Third is Stilton, an aged English blue cheese that has a tart, sharp character. Fourth is Gruyère, an aged Swiss cow’s-milk cheese with a slightly sweet, nutty, and salty flavor that gets more complex the longer it is aged. And fifth and last is aged Gouda, my favorite cheese of all, which is a Dutch cheese typically made from cow’s or sheep’s milk that is aged until a deep and rich burnt caramel flavor develops and little crunchy salt crystals form in the cheese. A few words of note: If you can’t find the Mt. Tam, you can substitute any other triple-crème cheese. If you can’t find the Bijou, you can substitute with any other aged goat cheese—and as for the Stilton, if you want it to be a little more nutty and a little less pungent, it’s best to go for one that has been aged longer, which you can tell by the rind on the cheese. The thicker and more developed the rind, the longer the cheese has typically been aging. I also have some sweet complements for the cheeses below, namely some quick-and-easy herbed dates, a dollop of Maple, Rosemary, and Sea Salt Butter, and a dash of honey—all of these go great with any of the cheeses. As for the crackers, I like to get an assortment of wheat and rice crackers, in case there are any gluten-free folks (and also rice crackers have a strong crunch to them, which I really like), and I usually get the extra-seedy kind, since pumpkin and poppy seeds add more flavor as well as an extra pop of color and texture to the board.
— Makes 1 cheese board and 2 cups (250 g) herbed dates —
HERBED DATES
2 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 cups (250 g) pitted dates
4 fresh sage leaves
2 teaspoons fresh chopped rosemary
Flake kosher sea salt
WINTER CHEESE BOARD
Gruyère
Aged Gouda
Stilton
Cowgirl Creamery Mt. Tam, or other triple crème cheese
Vermont Creamery Bijou, or other aged goat cheese
Crackers
Maple, Rosemary, and Sea Salt Butter (this page), at room temperature
Honey
—For the herbed dates, in a small skillet, heat the oil over medium-low heat. Add the dates and sage and cook, stirring, until the mixture is very fragrant and the dates have lightened slightly on the points that have been in contact with the pan, 6 to 8 minutes. Remove from the heat, toss with the rosemary, and season with salt.
—For the winter cheese board, arrange the cheeses, crackers, butter, and dates on a platter. Put some honey in a small bowl and place it on the platter along with a honey dripper for serving.
This dish is based on a savory toast I had at an Italian restaurant called Ava Gene’s here in Portland. It was absolute heaven, and I immediately wanted to figure out a way to make it at home. After several trials, I got my own version down pat, and I’m sharing it with you here. It’s one of my favorite crostini because of the wonderful contrast of flavors and textures throughout. The caramelized onions give a little sweetness, the kale adds earthiness, the bread gives a little crunch, the pine nuts provide a bit of meatiness and a lightly toasted flavor, the fresh pomegranate jewels release little bursts of sweet and tart pomegranate juice with every bite, and the chèvre provides a tangy creamy base for it all that contrasts with the tart balsamic vinegar in the most perfect, tantalizing way. The way these flavors and textures meld together is almost musical, and they just so happen to look very festive for the holidays, too!
— Makes about 16 —
½ cup (120 ml) extra-virgin olive oil
½ baguette, cut into slices ½-inch (12-mm) thick
1 medium sweet onion, chopped
5 teaspoons balsamic vinegar
3 tablespoons pine nuts
6 cups (390 g) chopped kale leaves
1 teaspoon honey
¼ teaspoon flake kosher sea salt
4 ounces (115 g) chèvre, crumbled
⅓ cup (28 g) pomegranate kernels
—In a medium skillet, heat 1 tablespoon of the oil over medium heat. Brush ¼ cup (60 ml) of the oil on both sides of the baguette slices. Toast the baguette slices in the hot skillet until lightly golden on each side, 2 to 4 minutes per side. Remove and set aside.
—In a Dutch oven, heat 2 tablespoons of the oil over medium heat. Add the onion and 3 teaspoons of the vinegar, stir to coat, and reduce the heat to medium-low. Cook, stirring every 3 minutes, until golden around the edges, 15 to 20 minutes. Add the remaining 2 teaspoons vinegar and the pine nuts and cook, stirring every minute, until lightly toasted, about 5 minutes more.
—Add the kale and remaining 1 tablespoon oil and stir to incorporate. Cook, stirring, until the kale is very wilted, about 8 minutes. Remove from the heat and stir in the honey and salt. Evenly distribute the chèvre on the tops of the crostini, then top each one with a tablespoon of the sautéed kale mixture and a generous pinch of the pomegranate kernels.
Chestnuts are not for the lazy cook. They require time, effort, and dedication, but if you stick with them, you will end up with one of the most delicious foods of the winter season. The meat of the chestnut is golden in color with a slightly sweet flavor and an almost potato-like texture. As far as the prep work goes, you need to cut an X through both the chestnut’s shells and skin before cooking them. There’s a semi-glossy dark brown hard shell on the outside of the nut, but underneath that is a papery skin that is stuck onto the chestnut, which you need to get off before eating—it’s thick and has a really unpleasant texture. This is a fun activity to do with a friend to make the cutting go by a bit more quickly—after a little conversation you’ll get to the eating part in no time! I love serving these as a rich-and-hearty appetizer along with a lighter main dish.
— Serves 4 —
BROWN BUTTER–SAGE SAUCE
1 cup (2 sticks/225 g) unsalted butter
5 fresh sage leaves
½ teaspoon chopped fresh rosemary leaves
ROASTED CHESTNUTS
1½ pounds (680 g) chestnuts (about 50 chestnuts)
4 sprigs fresh rosemary
2 sprigs fresh sage
2 sprigs fresh thyme
1 teaspoon flake kosher sea salt
—For the brown butter–sage sauce, in a large shallow stainless-steel skillet, melt the butter over medium heat. Swirl the pan around a bit every couple of minutes to help it cook evenly. Over a period of several minutes, the foam at the top of the butter will change from a light yellow to dark tan. Once it reaches the dark tan stage, smell it. It should smell nutty and toasted. Remove from the heat, stir in the sage and rosemary, and set aside.
—Preheat the oven to 425°F (220°C).
—For the roasted chestnuts, take a small sharp knife (pocket knives and utility knives work, too) and cut an X into the flat side of each chestnut, piercing the shell and the skin. Place a medium saucepan of cold water over medium heat and add the chestnuts. Bring the water to a boil and cook for 5 minutes. Drain and pat the chestnuts dry.
—Place a large sheet of foil on a rimmed baking sheet. Arrange the chestnuts on the foil, keeping them in one flat layer toward the center of the foil so you have several inches of space around them. Drizzle them with half the browned butter mixture and top with the rosemary, sage, and thyme sprigs. Fold the extra foil edges over the chestnuts and herbs, touching the edges of the foil together but leaving a little opening at the center for steam to escape.
—Roast until the edges of the scored X start to curl up and the chestnuts are cooked through, 30 to 45 minutes, depending on the size of the chestnuts. Remove and allow to cool for 10 minutes before handling.
—The nuts will still be very hot, but the skin and shell will come off more easily while the nuts are still warm, so you need to work quickly. Use a clean dish towel to pick each one up from the pan, squeeze it slightly to help loosen the skin, then peel off the hard exterior shell and fuzzy underskin. Repeat until all the chestnuts are shelled and skinned. Drizzle with the remaining brown butter mixture (you may need to reheat it to bring it to a liquid state) and sprinkle with the salt. Serve immediately.
My father made spanikopita, the traditional savory Greek pastry made from spinach, feta cheese, and filo dough, six days a week for more than thirty years at my parents’ Greek deli. This is based on his recipe, but with the addition of sautéed onions and a bit of ricotta. I’m slightly obsessed with onions and put them in nearly every single savory dish I make, so if you’re not a big onion fan, you can omit them here. (Although they really do add a nice flavor to the filling once they’re sautéed. Seriously, onions are the best.) I like using fresh spinach because it has a brighter flavor that holds up better when baked than the frozen pre-shredded stuff; plus, the frozen stuff is really waterlogged, and if you don’t squeeze out all the excess water, you’ll end up with some sad, soggy spanikopitas. As far as the feta goes, you can read through my generous helping of Greek cheese advice on this page. Trust me, using good-quality feta cheese will make all the difference in getting the right flavor and texture inside your spanikopita. Your stomach and guests will thank you!
— Makes about 36 —
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1 small yellow onion, chopped
8 cups chopped spinach (about 8 ounces/225 g)
1 large egg, beaten
12 ounces (340 g) feta cheese, crumbled
1¼ cups (305 g) whole-milk ricotta cheese
½ teaspoon dried oregano
½ teaspoon dried dill
¼ teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper
¼ teaspoon flake kosher sea salt
12 ounces (340 g) filo dough sheets, thawed if frozen
¾ cup (1½ sticks/170 g) unsalted butter, melted
—Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C).
—In a Dutch oven, heat the oil over low heat. Add the onion and cook, stirring, until softened and transparent, about 5 minutes. Add the spinach and cook, stirring every minute, until very wilted, 4 to 5 minutes. Remove from the heat and allow to cool until just warm.
—In a large bowl, mix together the egg, feta, ricotta, oregano, dill, pepper, and salt until combined. Stir in the spinach mixture until evenly distributed throughout.
—Lay the filo flat on a clean working surface and cover it with a clean dish towel. Each time you grab a sheet of filo from the pile, make sure to cover the pile with the towel; otherwise, it will dry out very quickly, crumble around the edges, and become difficult to work with.
—Lay down a sheet of the filo and use a pastry brush to lightly brush it with the butter. Fold it in half lengthwise and brush the surface sparingly with butter again. Place 1 heaping tablespoon of the filling in the bottom right corner of the strip. Fold the filo over from the bottom right to the left to create a small triangle. Continue folding up the strip, in the same method you’d use to fold a flag, lightly brushing the exposed filo with butter each time you fold it. The filling should now be wrapped in the filo. Seal the bottom by brushing the seam with butter and place it, seam side down, on a 13 by 18-inch (33 by 46-cm) rimmed baking sheet. Brush the top with butter. Repeat this process, filling up the first baking sheet and starting to fill a second one, until you’ve used all the filling, making sure to leave at least ½ inch (12 mm) of space between the spanikopitas on the baking sheet. Place the sheet in the oven and cook until golden brown, about 15 minutes. Allow to cool for 20 minutes before serving.
—Spanikopita also freezes very well before being baked. Place them on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper and wrapped with plastic wrap and freeze for 6 hours. Remove from the baking sheet and stack them in an airtight resealable container with parchment or waxed paper between each layer. They will keep like this in the freezer for up to 6 months.
—Note: To bake frozen spanikopita, follow the above baking directions but add about 10 minutes to the cooking time.
I learned to make sourdough from my friends Derek and Sean. Derek is one of the chefs behind Wicked Healthy, and Sean is a deeply talented baker who has worked as the head baker at Bouchon Bakery, Sullivan Street Bakery, and Grand Central Bakery. I’m using his sourdough recipe here, and it is essential that you have an accurate kitchen scale to measure the ingredients for the bread using grams. It’s incredibly easy to change the amount of flour you use in a recipe simply by tapping the measuring cup to allow the flour to settle (which you’re not supposed to do). It’s also very important to roast the garlic before incorporating it into the bread; if you ever try to put raw garlic in sourdough, it won’t rise due to the antiseptic qualities of raw garlic, which harm the yeast. I’ve also included my recipe for kopanisti, which is a traditional whipped Greek feta spread with garlic, olive oil, lemon, and rosemary. I love pairing it with freshly baked bread, since the flavor of the kopanisti is quite strong and goes with the subtle, warm sourdough splendidly. This recipe also calls for the bread to proof in a banneton basket, a woven straw basket that allows the bread to breathe while rising and also imparts a beautiful spiral pattern onto the top of the loaf. If you don’t have a banneton, you can use a lightly greased bowl instead.
— Makes 1 loaf of sourdough and about 1 cup (260 g) kopanisti —
ROASTED GARLIC SOURDOUGH
2 heads garlic
2 tablespoons olive oil
12 ounces (360 g) water, ideally 65°F (18°C)
1 cup (209 g) properly fed sourdough starter
3½ cups (420 g) bread flour, plus more for flouring the banneton
3 teaspoons flake kosher sea salt
Extra-virgin olive oil, for greasing the bowl
Rice flour, for flouring the banneton
Wheat bran, for flouring the banneton
KOPANISTI
8 ounces (225 g) feta cheese
⅓ cup (75 ml) extra-virgin olive oil
1 garlic clove, minced
2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
1½ teaspoons finely chopped fresh rosemary
¼ teaspoon red pepper flakes
—Preheat the oven to 400°F (205°C).
—For the roasted garlic sourdough, cut the top quarter off the heads of garlic and place the heads in the center of a sheet of foil. Drizzle with the oil and wrap them, leaving a small opening at the top for steam to escape. Place the foil packet on a small pan and roast until the garlic is very fragrant and lightly golden, about 35 minutes. Allow to cool to room temperature. Squeeze the roasted garlic cloves from the papery husks into a bowl, discarding the husks.
—Place the water, sourdough starter, and flour in the bowl of a stand mixer and fit the mixer with the dough hook. Beat the mixture on low speed until it just comes together in a shaggy mass, 30 to 60 seconds. Pour the salt on top of the mixture and allow it to rest at room temperature for 20 minutes.
—Beat the mixture on low speed until the dough comes away from the bowl in a solid mass around the hook and makes a slapping sound as it hits the sides of the bowl, 10 to 15 minutes. Add the roasted garlic bits and mix until just incorporated. Transfer the dough to a bowl well-greased with oil.
—Fold the dough by pulling one side of the dough straight up and then over to the opposite side of the dough, pressing down into that side of the dough ball. Turn the bowl a quarter turn and repeat. Repeat this two more times. Cover the bowl with a dish towel and set aside at room temperature out of direct sunlight to rise for 45 minutes. Repeat the dough folding process and allow the dough to rest for 45 minutes more, then repeat the dough folding process again and allow it to rest for a final 45 minutes. The dough will have rested for a total of 2 hours 15 minutes by the time the turning and resting cycle is complete.
—At this point, you can cover and refrigerate the dough for up to 24 hours if you want to finish making the dough the next day. To continue making the bread the same day, turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface. Form the dough by using the folding technique, pulling up one side of the dough up and over to the other side. Repeat this until the dough forms a circular ball shape. Next, you will form the dough by creating tension within it. Flip the dough over so that the smooth side is on top. Flatten your hand so that the sides of all your fingers are touching, and then curve your hand into a C or hook shape. Use your hand to cup the dough and pull it toward yourself over the work surface, working in short, quick movements, dragging it across the surface and using your cupped hands to rotate it slightly as it moves. Repeat this cupping movement until the dough is smooth and tight on top and very round in shape.
—Flour a banneton basket with a mixture of equal parts bread flour and rice flour, as well as a dusting of wheat bran. Transfer the dough ball into the banneton, smooth side down. Cover it with a dish towel and set aside at room temperature out of direct sunlight to rise until it is 50 percent larger, about 1 hour, depending on the temperature of the room.
—Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 500°F (260°C). Set a lidded 4-quart (3.8 L) Dutch oven inside to preheat for a minimum of 45 minutes.
—Remove the Dutch oven and lid from the oven, and remove the lid from the Dutch oven with oven mitts. Flip the banneton over onto a well-floured work surface, then quickly nudge it off the surface and into the Dutch oven. You can also do this with well-floured hands, if your hands are large enough to handle the mass of dough. Quickly score the surface of the loaf with a lame, razor, or kitchen shears. Cover the Dutch oven with the lid and place it back in the oven. Bake, covered, for 20 minutes, then remove the lid and bake, uncovered, until the bread is deeply golden and the crust is firm, about 20 minutes more. Remove the bread from the Dutch oven and allow it to cool completely on a wire rack before slicing and serving.
—For the kopanisti, in a blender or food processor, combine the feta, oil, garlic, lemon juice, and rosemary and puree on low speed until smooth and fluffy. Stir in the red pepper flakes and serve with the roasted garlic sourdough.
I love making this pizza in the firepit in our backyard. The fire and ash give it the most appealing smoky flavor, and if you have the dough ready, it’s really quick to throw together. I use my roasted garlic sourdough recipe for the crust. You could also substitute your own pizza dough here for simplicity’s sake (see this page for mine). The key to woodfire cooking is to let the fire burn down a bit. When you first start a fire, the flames are large. After 30 to 45 minutes, though, the flames are very small, and the wood turns into glowing red embers. This is the prime time for woodfire cooking, since the heat is less intense and more consistent—perfect for burying a lidded cast-iron skillet and baking a savory, wintry pizza!
— Makes one 12-inch (30.5-cm) pizza —
CREAMY ROASTED GARLIC SAUCE
2 heads garlic
¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons (90 ml) extra-virgin olive oil
3 ounces (85 g) Parmesan cheese, grated
3 tablespoons pine nuts
2 tablespoons fresh lemon thyme leaves
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
¼ teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper
SKILLET PIZZA
2 tablespoons rice flour
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
½ recipe Roasted Garlic Sourdough dough (this page), risen and ready to use, or 17 ounces (485 g) ready-made pizza dough
2 medium carrots, peeled and shaved into thin strips using a mandoline or vegetable peeler
1½ ounces (43 g) Parmesan cheese, shaved
2 tablespoons pine nuts
1 tablespoon fresh lemon thyme leaves
—Preheat the oven to 400°F (205°C).
—For the creamy roasted garlic sauce, cut the top quarter off the heads of garlic and place the heads in the center of a sheet of foil. Drizzle with ¼ cup oil and wrap them, leaving a small opening at the top for steam to escape. Place the foil packet on a small pan and roast until the garlic is fragrant and golden, about 35 minutes. Allow to cool to room temperature. Squeeze the roasted cloves from the papery husks into a bowl, discarding the husks.
—Add the Parmesan, pine nuts, remaining oil, lemon thyme, vinegar, and pepper to a blender or food processor and puree until smooth. Set aside.
—For the skillet pizza, bury a lidded 12-inch (30.5-cm) cast-iron skillet in the glowing red embers of a fire that has burned down a bit and has a mix of glowing embers and small flames. Allow the pan to preheat for 30 minutes, adding more wood to the fire, as needed, to maintain a low flame.
—Meanwhile, in a small bowl, mix together the rice flour and all-purpose flour until combined. Lay the garlic sourdough out on a clean work surface lightly dusted with the flour mixture. Use your fingertips to gently press it out into a flat round circle 12 inches (30.5 cm) in diameter. Transfer the crust to a pizza peel well-dusted with the flour mixture. Use heatproof gloves to remove the pan from the fire, remove the lid from the pan, and immediately transfer the garlic sourdough crust off the peel and into the pan. Spread the creamy roasted garlic sauce on the pizza, leaving a 1-inch (2.5-cm) border around the edges, and top with the carrots, Parmesan, and pine nuts. Cover with the lid and bury the pan in the embers. Cook until the dough is puffy and there are some deep gold or charred marks on the carrots, 5 to 20 minutes, depending on the heat intensity of your flame. Keeping the pan in the fire, expose the lid and remove it, allowing the pizza to cook for a few minutes more, uncovered, until the crust is completely cooked through in the center. Remove from the heat, garnish with the lemon thyme leaves, slice, and serve.
If you want to make something fancy for dinner but want it to require minimal effort and time, then this recipe is for you. Scallops are probably one of the easiest things to cook; all they require is a simple sear in some fat on a pan for a couple minutes per side and voilà! They’re ready to go. They have a slightly sweet flavor to them, which pairs really well with the brown butter–sage-roasted rutabaga puree. Even though the name is long, the ingredients and techniques for making the puree are very simple. You just toss some rutabaga in olive oil and salt and roast it for a bit, then puree the roasted bits with some brown butter, sage, and milk. If you’re unfamiliar with rutabaga, it is a winter root vegetable that is purplish on top and pale gold on the bottom. They look a bit like turnips but with a gold tint to the whole exterior (and— fun fact—they originated as a cross between turnips and cabbage). I love rutabagas because they aren’t quite as spicy as turnips, and they get wonderfully sweet when they’re cooked—just think of a caramelized, less-starchy potato, and that’s pretty much the flavor of a roasted rutabaga. Whole rutabagas also keep for a really long time in the refrigerator, so you can buy a few pounds at the farmers’ market when they’re in season and put them to use over the next month or two.
— Serves 2 —
RUTABAGA PUREE
1¾ pounds (800 g) rutabagas, peeled and cut into 1-inch (2.5-cm) cubes
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon flake kosher sea salt
4 tablespoons (½ stick/55 g) unsalted butter
4 fresh sage leaves
½ cup (120 ml) whole milk, at room temperature
SEARED SCALLOPS
1 pound (455 g) scallops
½ teaspoon flake kosher sea salt
¼ teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper
Pinch of rubbed sage
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
—Preheat the oven to 400°F (205°C).
—For the rutabaga puree, in a large bowl, toss together the rutabagas, oil, and salt until coated. Spread them out on a rimmed baking sheet and roast until the rutabagas are lightly golden and can be easily pierced with a fork, about 30 minutes. Remove and set aside to cool slightly; reduce the oven temperature to 200°F (90°C).
—In a large stainless-steel skillet, melt the butter over medium heat. Swirl the pan around a bit every couple of minutes to help it cook evenly. Over a period of several minutes, the foam at the top of the butter will change from a light yellow to dark tan. Once it reaches the dark tan stage, smell it. It should smell nutty and toasted. Remove the pan from the heat and add the sage. Steep the sage in the brown butter for 5 minutes, then transfer the brown butter mixture, the roasted rutabagas, and the milk to a blender or food processor and blend on medium-high speed until completely smooth, stopping to scrape down the inside of the container with a rubber spatula, as needed. Pour the mixture into a medium casserole dish, cover with foil, and keep warm in the oven until ready to serve.
—For the seared scallops, pat the scallops dry. In a small bowl, mix together the salt, pepper, and sage. Sprinkle the spice mixture all over the outside of the scallops. In a medium skillet, melt the butter over high heat. Add the scallops and cook until lightly golden on each side but still translucent in the center, 1½ to 2 minutes per side. Serve with the brown butter–sage rutabaga puree.
I grew sweet potatoes for the first time last year, which was slightly nerve-racking, since you never really know how the plant produces until months afterward, when you dive into the earth and see what’s underneath. Luckily, I had a really strong harvest of the four heirloom purple sweet potatoes I’d planted—Okinawan Purple, Myanmar Purple, Molokai Purple, and Korean Purple. The flavor of purple sweet potatoes is just as sweet as the orange and white varieties but gives you a little extra pop of color. The purple ones can be a little firmer, though, so I’ve found I need to cook them just a tad longer than their orange counterparts. I used a mix of orange and purple ones for this recipe, so if you go full purple, you’ll likely end up with a slightly different-colored curry than this one, but I promise it will be just as tasty!
— Serves 6 —
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 large yellow onion, chopped
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 (1-inch/2.5-cm) piece fresh ginger, peeled and minced
1 teaspoon red Thai curry paste
2¼ pounds (917 g) sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch (2.5-cm) cubes
5 cups (1.2 L) full-fat coconut milk
12 ounces (340 g) collard green leaves, chopped
Flake kosher sea salt
—In a large Dutch oven, heat the oil over medium heat. Add the onion, garlic, ginger, and curry paste and stir to combine. Cook until the onion has softened significantly and is translucent, about 5 minutes. Add half the sweet potatoes and cook, stirring every 2 minutes, until softened slightly around the edges, about 10 minutes.
—Add the coconut milk and stir to combine. Bring the mixture to a boil and cook, stirring every 5 to 10 minutes and mashing the sweet potato pieces against the side of the pot with the back of a wooden spoon as they cook, until the sweet potato pieces soften significantly and the coconut milk has thickened, 25 to 30 minutes.
—Add the collard greens and remaining sweet potatoes and cook until the collard greens have wilted and turned dark green and the recently added sweet potatoes are soft when pricked with a fork, about 20 minutes more. Remove from the heat, season with salt, and serve.
I love incorporating caramelized veggies into mac and cheese—there’s just something about the way the creamy, salty cheese complements the sweet-yet-slightly-savory vegetables that makes my heart sing and my mouth water. I’ve caramelized leeks for this recipe and combined them with a bit of wilted spinach, sharp white cheddar, creamy ricotta, and tangy chèvre. To get as many caramelized leek bits out of each leek, I recommend picking leeks with a large white part on the stem and smaller green part, since you’ll only use the white and light green parts of the leek (toss the dark greens in the freezer to save for vegetable stock).
— Serves 4 to 6 —
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 large leeks, whites and light green parts only, halved lengthwise, washed well, and cut into slices ½-inch (12-mm) thick
¼ cup (60 ml) cream sherry
¼ teaspoon flake kosher sea salt, plus more for water
1 pound (455 g) toscani pasta or other spiral-shaped pasta
4 tablespoons (60 ml) extra-virgin olive oil
10 cups (300 g) chopped fresh spinach
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1½ cups (360 ml) whole milk
¼ cup (60 ml) heavy cream
⅔ cup (165 g) full-fat ricotta cheese
6 ounces (170 g) sharp white cheddar, grated
4 ounces (115 g) chèvre, crumbled
1 teaspoon sherry vinegar
½ teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper
½ teaspoon garlic powder
—In a large Dutch oven, melt the butter over medium-high heat. Add the leeks and stir to coat with the butter. Reduce the heat to medium-low and cook, stirring every 5 minutes, then more frequently as the leeks darken, until caramelized, 20 to 25 minutes. Add the sherry and stir to scrape up all the browned bits from the bottom of the pan. Remove from the heat and set aside.
—Bring a large pot of lightly salted water to a boil over medium-high heat. Add the pasta and cook until al dente according to the manufacturer’s directions. Drain, rinse with cold water, then toss the noodles with 2 tablespoons of the oil. Set aside.
—Meanwhile, in a large skillet, heat the remaining 2 tablespoons oil over medium-low heat. Add the spinach and cook, stirring every minute, until the leaves are wilted and shrunken, 5 to 7 minutes. Remove from the heat and set aside.
—Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C).
—Place the leek mixture back over low heat and add the flour, stirring until a paste forms. Add the milk, ½ cup (60 ml) at a time, allowing the liquid to smooth out before adding the next ½ cup (60 ml). Add the cream and stir until smooth. Cook, stirring every minute or two, until very warm but not boiling, 5 to 7 minutes. Add the ricotta, cheddar, and chèvre and stir to incorporate. Cook, stirring every 30 seconds, until the cheese has melted completely, about 5 minutes more. Add the vinegar, pepper, garlic powder, and salt and stir until incorporated. Remove from the heat, add the pasta and spinach, and stir gently to combine. Place the pot in the oven and bake, uncovered, until the top of the pasta is golden around the edges, 20 to 25 minutes.
Raw beets have an intensely bright and earthy flavor when they’re served raw. Because of their incredibly firm texture, they need to be shaved into strips to be eaten raw with ease, and this works out to the visual benefit of the salad because beets just so happen to be absolutely gorgeous inside. I recommend using a variety of Chioggia, golden, and plain red beets for the salad, but tossing the plain red beets separately so that their color doesn’t bleed onto the other varieties. If you’re unfamiliar with Chioggia beets, they’re the ones whose insides are striped with red and white circles like a target. The earthy flavor of the beets pairs perfectly with the creaminess of the chèvre and the sweet acidity of the port-and-balsamic vinaigrette, making for a killer winter salad that’s a treat for both the palate and the eyes.
— Serves 4 —
PORT-AND-BALSAMIC VINAIGRETTE
2 tablespoons port wine
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
1 teaspoon honey
1 teaspoon flake kosher sea salt
1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves
¼ teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper
SHAVED BEET SALAD
10 ounces (280 g) beets, shaved
2 ounces (55 g) carrots, peeled and shaved
4 ounces baby greens (about 4 cups)
2 tablespoons micro thyme or 1 tablespoon thyme leaves
4 ounces (115 g) crumbled chèvre
—For the port-and-balsamic vinaigrette, whisk together the port, olive oil, vinegar, honey, salt, thyme, and pepper until completely combined. Set aside.
—For the shaved beet salad, in a large bowl, toss together the beets, carrots, baby greens, thyme, and chèvre until combined. Distribute the salad among four plates and drizzle each with one-quarter of the vinaigrette. Serve immediately.
Kale is probably one of the hardiest things in my garden. Kale itself has an earthy, almost mushroomy flavor and tastes more like broccoli than any lettuce. This deep flavor lends itself very well to the other ingredients typically found in pesto. Basil, garlic, Parmesan, and olive oil all complement it ridiculously well, rounding out the earthiness of it with fresh, spicy, rich, and salty perfection. The filling itself doesn’t use all of the kale pesto you’ll make, so I always serve some extra on the side so folks can get as many spoonfuls of this goodness as they want.
— Makes 14 —
KALE PESTO
3 cups (195 g) coarsely chopped lightly packed kale, leaves and stems
1¼ cups (125 g) freshly grated Parmesan cheese
1 cup (135 g) pine nuts
¾ cup (30 g) fresh basil leaves
5 garlic cloves, crushed
⅓ cup (75 ml) extra-virgin olive oil
TOMATO–BAY LEAF SAUCE
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 large yellow onion, coarsely chopped
4 garlic cloves, minced
1 dried bay leaf
10 ounces (280 g) fresh tomatoes, coarsely chopped
½ teaspoon dried thyme leaves
½ teaspoon dried oregano
½ teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper
1½ teaspoons flake kosher sea salt
MANICOTTI AND FILLING
3¾ cups (920 g) full-fat ricotta
¾ cup (70 g) freshly grated Parmesan cheese
¼ cup (60 ml) whole milk
1 egg, beaten
¼ teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper
1 teaspoon flake kosher sea salt, plus more for the water
1¾ cups (115 g) finely chopped kale leaves
2 tablespoons chopped fresh chives
14 manicotti shells
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
—For the kale pesto, combine the kale, Parmesan, pine nuts, basil, and garlic in a food processor and pulse until chopped. Add the oil and puree until smooth. Cover and set aside.
—For the tomato–bay leaf sauce, in a medium saucepan, melt the butter over medium-low heat. Add the onion and garlic and cook, stirring every minute, until the onion is translucent and has softened, about 5 minutes. Add the bay leaf and tomatoes and raise the heat to medium. Cook, stirring every 5 minutes and breaking the tomatoes apart with your spoon as they cook, until the tomatoes have nearly disintegrated, about 30 minutes.
—Remove from the heat, stir in the thyme, oregano, pepper, and salt, and allow to cool for 20 minutes. Transfer to a food processor or blender and puree until smooth. Stir in ½ cup (60 ml) of the kale pesto and set aside.
—For the manicotti and filling, in a medium bowl, stir together ¾ cup (180 ml) of the kale pesto, the ricotta, ½ cup (50 g) of the Parmesan, the milk, egg, pepper, and salt until smooth. Add the kale and chives and stir until combined.
—Preheat the oven to 450°F (230°C).
—To prepare the manicotti, bring a large pot of lightly salted water to a boil. Add the manicotti and cook until al dente according to the package directions, then drain, brush with the oil, and set aside.
—Pour one-third of the tomato sauce into a 10 by 14-inch (25 by 35.5-cm) casserole dish. Stuff each manicotti with about 3 tablespoons of the filling and arrange them all in an even layer in the pan. Pour the remaining tomato sauce over the manicotti and sprinkle with the remaining ¼ cup (25 g) Parmesan. Bake until the sauce is bubbling around the edges, 20 to 25 minutes. Remove from the oven and serve with the remaining kale pesto.
I love eating cubed hash for breakfast, but it takes so long to cook on the stovetop and requires such constant monitoring that it’s hard to find the motivation to make it right after waking up. I want those savory, sweet, delicious root veggie cubes so badly, but I don’t want to spend the first thirty minutes of my morning standing in front of the stove. The struggle is real! To pacify the lazy cook within, I figured out another way to make these guys with much less hands-on time. You just toss the root veggies with some olive oil and seasonings, spread them out on a baking sheet, and roast them. The key to making them cook evenly is to stir up the contents of the pan twice during the cooking time—this will keep the sides of the veggies touching the pan from getting too charred, and mimics the texture and consistency of the stovetop stuff perfectly. As for the rainbow of colors in the hash, I use a wide variety of heirloom turnips and potatoes, including Red Round turnips, Gilfeather turnips, Magenta Love potatoes, and Purple Pelisse potatoes. I stuck with golden beets, though, because the red ones tend to leak a lot of color, and I didn’t want to dye the other veggie bits while tossing them together in the oil. I recommend serving these with a tasty fried egg and a thick slice of buttered toast.
— Serves 4 —
2 teaspoons flake kosher sea salt
1 teaspoon garlic powder
½ teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper
½ teaspoon ground cumin
½ teaspoon paprika
1¾ pounds (800 g) turnips, peeled and cut into 1-inch cubes
¾ pound (340 g) golden beets, peeled and cut into 1-inch cubes
¾ pound (340 g) potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch cubes
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 teaspoons fresh thyme leaves
—Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C).
—In a small bowl, mix together the salt, garlic powder, pepper, cumin, and paprika. In a large bowl, toss the vegetables with the oil and half the spice mixture. Spread out the vegetables in an even layer on two large rimmed baking sheets. Roast until the edges of the vegetables are golden, a little wrinkly, and easily pierced with a fork, 45 to 55 minutes, gently tossing the vegetables in the pan every 15 minutes.
—Transfer the vegetables to a serving bowl and toss with the remaining spice mixture and the thyme. Serve immediately.
For most of my life, the only veggie burgers I’d had were the frozen Gardenburger variety, which are fine, but they’re mostly rice and not as rich with savory vegetable flavor as I’d like. Then I was introduced to the magic of beet burgers at a little Portland restaurant called White Owl Social Club, and a serious love affair began. I became obsessed with trying to re-create them at home. After much recipe testing, I was able to create a burger that was more flavorful than any meat-based patty I’d had, held together without issue, and left me feeling full and satisfied—as opposed to some of the less protein-heavy veggie patties that leave you hungry again in an hour or two. The combination of ingredients for the patty might sound strange (black beans, seaweed, beets, eggs, and hazelnuts, to be exact), but I swear to the lord of light that they come together in the most fluid, savory, and complementary way.
— Makes 6 —
¾ cup (100 g) chopped rehydrated wakame seaweed
1 pound (455 g) beets, peeled and grated
1 cup (85 g) crushed hazelnuts
1 can (15 ounces/430 g) black beans, rinsed, drained, and pureed
2 large eggs, beaten
2 teaspoons flake kosher sea salt
½ teaspoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon shiitake mushroom powder (optional)
¼ teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper
12 tablespoons (120 ml) mayonnaise
2 teaspoons vinegar-based hot sauce, such as Tabasco
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
¼ teaspoon garlic powder
6 brioche buns
2 cups (65 g) alfalfa sprouts
3 ounces (85 g) chèvre, crumbled
⅓ cup (54 ml) Quick-Pickled Onions (this page)
—Preheat the oven to 400°F (205°C). Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
—Press the seaweed between your hands to squeeze out any excess water. Place it in a food processor and add the beets, hazelnuts, and black beans. Pulse several times until a coarse puree forms. Pour the mixture into a bowl and mix in the eggs, salt, garlic powder, shiitake mushroom powder (if using), and pepper until evenly incorporated.
—Use your hands to form the mixture into 6 patties and place them on the prepared baking sheet. Roast in the oven until they’ve deepened in color and are crisp around the edges, about 30 minutes. Allow the patties to cool on the pan for 10 minutes before handling.
—Meanwhile, in a small bowl, mix together the mayonnaise, hot sauce, paprika, and garlic powder. To assemble, evenly distribute the mayonnaise sauce between the insides of the buns. Use a spatula to remove each patty and place it on the bottom of each of the buns. Top each patty with ⅓ cup (30 g) of the sprouts, ½ ounce (15 g) of the chèvre, and a generous pinch of the onions, then add the top of the bun and serve.
Every year, Jeremy and I go to Garibaldi Bay along the Oregon coast and do some good old-fashioned clamming. There are different techniques, depending on the type of clam you’re trying to catch, but we just use a clam rake when the tide is out to search for near-surface-dwelling butter clams. It’s a really fun and easy activity, and the view of the coast when the tide is completely out is unreal. My favorite clam recipe is this classic clam chowder. I like this version because it’s a little lighter—it’s heavier on the wine and vegetable stock than the milk—and really lets the flavor of the fresh clams come through. Once you get your hands on some fresh clams, the best way to store them is to line a large shallow dish with a layer of ice, then put a container on top of the ice and transfer the clams into that container, making sure the walls of the container are high enough to keep out any water as the ice melts. Cover the clams with a damp paper towel, place them in the refrigerator, and use them within twenty-four hours.
— Serves 4 to 6 —
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 large yellow onion, chopped
2 bay leaves
2 garlic cloves, minced
6 ounces (170 g) salt pork belly, cut into ½-inch (12-mm) cubes
1 cup (240 ml) dry white wine
3 cups (720 ml) Vegetable Stock (this page)
2 cups (480 ml) whole milk
3 pounds (1.4 kg) heirloom potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch (2.5-cm) cubes
2 teaspoons dried thyme leaves
½ teaspoon garlic powder
½ teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper
1 teaspoon Old Bay seasoning
3 pounds (1.4 kg) clams
Flake kosher sea salt
—In a large Dutch oven, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the onion and sauté until softened and translucent, about 5 minutes. Reduce the heat to medium-low and add the bay leaves, garlic, and pork belly. Cook, stirring every 5 minutes, until the onion turns golden and the edges of the pork belly are crispy, 35 to 45 minutes.
—Add the wine to the pan and stir until all the crusty bits at the bottom have dissolved. Add the stock and milk and stir to combine. Bring the mixture to a boil, then add the potatoes, thyme, garlic powder, pepper, and Old Bay seasoning. Cook until the potatoes are tender when pierced with a fork, about 20 minutes.
—Add the clams and cook, covered, until they’re tender, have opened, and are just cooked all the way through, 3 to 5 minutes. Discard any clams that do not open along with the bay leaf. Season with salt and serve alongside toasted bread for dipping.
It’s hard to find a finer comfort food than a classic roasted chicken. In the wintertime, I tend to make them on the regular, and out of all the cold-weather produce I’ve tried cooking them with, nothing compares to the persimmon. Persimmons, which grow on trees much like apples, have an interior texture that is very dense, kind of like a tomato, but without all the goopy seedy bits and just the thick meaty part. When eaten raw, they have a very mildly tomato-y flavor with a hint of sweetness that gets stronger the riper they are. There are two types of persimmons you’ll find at the market, Fuyu and Hachiya. Fuyu are short, squat, and round and are typically eaten when their skins are fully bright orange, but the fruit is still hard and crisp. Hachiya, on the other hand, are more elongated and oval-shaped and need to be eaten when bright orange, very ripe, and soft. If you try to eat an unripe Hachiya persimmon raw, it will taste straight-up terrible, which is why it’s important to purchase them several days before you intend to use them. Leave them in a brown paper bag on your kitchen counter to ripen fully. You can use either variety for this recipe, although a fully ripened Hachiya has a higher sugar content and will make for a slightly sweeter overall flavor.
— Serves 4 to 6 —
PORT BRINE
2 quarts (7.5 L) warm water
½ cup (134 g) flake kosher sea salt
¼ cup (60 ml) ruby port
1 teaspoon dried rosemary
½ teaspoon dried thyme leaves
½ teaspoon rubbed sage
1 chicken (about 5 pounds/2.3 kg)
PERSIMMON BUTTER SAUCE
2 ounces (½ stick/55 g) unsalted butter
1 chicken neck
½ large yellow onion, chopped
1 persimmon, finely chopped
⅓ cup (75 ml) ruby port
1 teaspoon chopped fresh rosemary
¾ teaspoon flake kosher sea salt
½ cup (60 ml) chicken stock or Poultry Stock (this page), at room temperature
ROASTED CHICKEN
½ large yellow onion, chopped
1 persimmon, chopped
¼ cup (60 ml) extra-virgin olive oil
¼ teaspoon rubbed sage
¼ teaspoon dried thyme leaves
4 sprigs fresh rosemary
¼ cup (60 ml) chicken stock or Poultry Stock (this page)
¼ cup (60 ml) ruby port
3 persimmons, cut into ¼-inch (6-mm) thick slices
—For the port brine, whisk together the water and salt in a large bowl until the salt has completely dissolved. Whisk in the port, rosemary, thyme, and sage and allow to cool to room temperature. Place the chicken in a resealable plastic bag in a casserole dish (this will make it easier to take it in and out of the refrigerator) and add the brine. Seal the bag and refrigerate for at least 12 hours or up to 48 hours.
—For the persimmon butter sauce, in a medium skillet, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the chicken neck and cook until lightly browned on both sides, 5 to 7 minutes per side. Add the onion and persimmon and stir to coat in the pan juices. Cook, stirring every 3 to 5 minutes, until the persimmon and onion bits are golden around the edges, about 20 minutes.
—Add the port and stir, using your spoon to scrape up any browned bits off the bottom of the pan. Add the rosemary and salt and stir to incorporate. Cook, stirring every 2 to 3 minutes, until thickened slightly and it no longer smells of alcohol, about 5 minutes. Remove from the heat and allow to cool just to warm, then puree with the chicken stock until smooth. Set aside.
—Preheat the oven to 400°F (205°C).
—For the roasted chicken, evenly distribute the chopped onions and chopped persimmon over the bottom of a roasting pan. In a small bowl, whisk together the oil, 2 tablespoons of the persimmon butter sauce, the sage, and thyme until smooth. Set aside. Remove the chicken from the brine, rinse thoroughly, and pat it completely dry with paper towels. Coat it inside and out with the oil mixture, getting underneath the skin of the breast but taking care not to tear the skin while doing so. Toss the persimmon-onion mixture in the roasting pan with the remaining oil mixture.
—Place the chicken on top of the persimmon-onion mixture in the roasting pan and stuff the chicken cavity with two of the rosemary sprigs. Truss the bird and drizzle the remaining persimmon butter sauce into the pan around the bird along with the stock and port. Arrange the persimmon slices around the chicken and place a rosemary sprig on either side of the bird. Roast until the skin is golden and the internal temperature at the thigh joint reaches 165°F (75°C), 1 to 1½ hours, depending on the size of the chicken. Remove the pan from the oven and allow the bird to rest for 20 minutes before carving and serving.
Spareribs come from the lower ribs of the pig, right near the belly, and because of this proximity, they tend to have more fat on them than their backbone-adjacent baby back rib counterparts. Since the large bits of fat aren’t great to eat on their own after grilling or roasting, I always braise spareribs in a flavorful broth to disintegrate the fats and add even more flavor and richness to the cooking liquid. This low-and-slow braising technique also softens the tight muscle tissue on the ribs so the meat falls off the bone right as you put it to your mouth. For the broth, I’ve combined cashew milk, dried figs, soy sauce, ponzu, and star anise for a salty and sweet Asian-inspired stock. I love using cashew milk for braising because, unlike cow’s milk, it doesn’t curdle when exposed to high temperatures for a long period of time, and it develops a deeper, nuttier flavor as it cooks, almost like it’s being slowly toasted.
— Serves 4 —
2½ pounds (1.2 kg) pork spareribs, cut into 3-rib sections
2 teaspoons flake kosher sea salt
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 large yellow onion, chopped
12 ounces (340 g) dried figs
1½ cups (360 ml) plain unsweetened cashew milk
¼ cup (60 ml) soy sauce
2 tablespoons ponzu
1 star anise pod
—Preheat the oven to 325°F (165°C).
—Coat the spareribs with the salt and place them in the bottom of a 9 by 13-inch (23 by 33-cm) roasting pan in an even layer.
—In a medium Dutch oven, heat the oil over medium-low heat. Add the onion and stir to coat in the oil. Cook until softened and translucent, about 5 minutes. Cut half of the figs in half, then add all of the figs to the pan and stir to incorporate. Cook, stirring every minute, until the figs are softened slightly, about 5 minutes.
—Add the cashew milk, soy sauce, ponzu, and star anise and stir. Bring the mixture to a boil and cook for 5 minutes before removing from the heat.
—Pour the contents of the Dutch oven into the roasting pan, then add 2 cups (480 ml) water. Cover the pan with foil and place it in the oven. Roast for 1 hour 30 minutes, then remove the foil and roast for 30 minutes more, uncovered. Discard the star anise and serve.
This is one of the prettiest desserts I’ve ever made, and it has the perfect balance of sweet, creamy, smooth, nutty, and crunchy. The crust is made from an almond flour and cake flour base and is filled with a mixture of mascarpone, sugar, lemon, vanilla, and cinnamon. But the real star here is the persimmon. I recommend using a mandoline to slice them very thin. The thinner they are, the more they will ruffle around the edges when boiled in the cinnamon-honey syrup. I accidentally discovered this textural transformation while preparing another recipe. I’m not exactly sure what causes it, but the thin layers begin to ruffle in the most graceful and consistent way—a beautiful sight to behold!
— Makes one 8-inch (20-cm) tart —
CANDIED PERSIMMONS
½ cup (100 g) sugar
⅓ cup (75 ml) honey
1 cinnamon stick
4 large persimmons, thinly sliced crosswise
ALMOND CRUST
½ cup (50 g) confectioners’ sugar
½ cup (1 stick/115 g) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 egg yolk
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1¼ cups (165 g) cake flour, sifted
1 cup (95 g) almond meal, sifted
½ teaspoon finely grated lemon zest
¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon
¼ teaspoon flake kosher sea salt
MASCARPONE FILLING
1⅓ cups (305 g) mascarpone cheese, at room temperature
⅓ cup (65 g) sugar
2 large eggs
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon
¼ teaspoon flake kosher sea salt
—For the candied persimmons, in a medium saucepan, combine the sugar, honey, cinnamon stick, and ¾ cup (180 ml) water and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Reduce the heat to medium-low and add some of the persimmon slices, keeping them in a single even layer on top of the syrup, and cook them until they begin to ruffle around the edges, 5 to 7 minutes per side, working in batches as necessary. Remove any tan froth from the surface of the syrup with a mesh spoon or small strainer. Remove the persimmons from the syrup and place on a cutting board lined with parchment paper until cool enough to handle. Repeat with the remaining persimmon slices. Transfer to a wire rack to cool completely and allow any excess syrup to drip off.
—For the almond crust, in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat together the confectioners’ sugar and butter on low speed until smooth. Add the egg yolk and vanilla and mix until combined. In a separate medium bowl, mix together the flour, almond meal, lemon zest, cinnamon, and salt. With the mixer running on low speed, add the flour mixture to the yolk mixture and mix until little sandy crumbs form. Transfer the crumbs to an 8-inch (20-cm) tart pan and press them into the bottom and up the sides of the pan to form the crust. Poke all over with a fork, then cover and freeze for 30 minutes.
—Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C).
—Parbake the crust for 10 minutes, then remove it from the oven.
—For the mascarpone filling, in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, combine the mascarpone, sugar, eggs, lemon juice, vanilla, cinnamon, and salt and mix on medium-low speed until smooth.
—Pour the filling into the crust and bake until the filling puffs slightly but is still jiggly in the center, 25 to 30 minutes. Remove the tart from the oven and allow to cool to room temperature before topping with the candied persimmon slices and serving.
You might think the idea of beets in a cake sounds a bit strange, but beets actually have a lot of sugar in them, and they sweeten up significantly when baked. They also have a slightly bitter, earthy flavor, much in the same vein as chocolate. So in this cake, grated beets are mixed with a bit of cocoa powder, buttermilk, sugar, vanilla, and cinnamon to create a moist, dense, and flavorful cake that’s very similar in overall flavor to a traditional carrot cake but with a chocolate-like quality. I recommend using plain red beets for this one, since the dark color works well with the chocolate theme, but you can use whatever variety you have handy, since they’ll all taste very similar. I ice this with my classic cream-cheese frosting—with only a handful of ingredients, it has the perfect balance of sugar and cream cheese and a delightfully smooth consistency for spreading. I recommend using this icing on carrot cakes, lemon cakes, and strawberry short cakes, too.
— Makes one 8-inch (20-cm) cake —
BUTTERMILK-BEET CAKE
2½ cups (325 g) cake flour, sifted
¼ cup (25 g) unsweetened cocoa powder, sifted
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
¾ teaspoon flake kosher sea salt
½ cup (1 stick/115 g) unsalted butter, at room temperature, plus more for greasing the pans
1½ cups (300 g) granulated sugar
¼ cup (55 g) packed dark brown sugar
3 large eggs
1½ teaspoons pure vanilla extract
1 cup (240 ml) full-fat buttermilk
10 ounces (280 g) beets, peeled and grated
CREAM-CHEESE BUTTERCREAM
1 (8-ounce/225-g) package cream cheese, at room temperature
1 cup (2 sticks/225 g) unsalted butter, at room temperature
3 cups (300 g) confectioners’ sugar
¼ teaspoon pure vanilla extract
—Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C). Grease three round 8-inch (20-cm) cake pans with butter and line the bottoms with parchment paper cut to fit.
—For the buttermilk-beet cake, in a medium bowl, mix together the flour, cocoa powder, baking soda, cinnamon, and salt. Set aside.
—In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream together the butter, sugar, and brown sugar on medium-low speed until smooth. Add the eggs, one at a time, mixing well after each addition. Add the vanilla and mix to combine. Alternate between adding the flour mixture and the buttermilk to the butter mixture, mixing on low speed just until smooth. Stir in the beets and evenly distribute the batter among the three cake pans. Bake until the cakes are lightly golden on top and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean, 20 to 25 minutes. Allow to cool for 15 minutes before turning the cakes out of the pans onto a wire rack to cool completely.
—For the cream-cheese buttercream, in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat together the cream cheese and butter on medium speed until completely smooth. Reduce the speed to low and add the confectioners’ sugar and vanilla. Mix until combined, then raise the speed to medium. Beat the mixture until smooth, light, and fluffy, about 5 minutes more. Frost the cake with the buttercream and serve.
If you haven’t noticed yet, there’s a whole lotta brown butter going on in this chapter. There’s just something about its warm, toasted, nutty flavor that’s so deeply comforting and hearty, making it the ideal ingredient for wintertime foods. When you’re browning butter, you’re essentially cooking the butter right up until the edge of burning it, so the milk fat inside the butter becomes golden brown and toasted, which is what gives it that remarkable smell and taste. And when you use it to make buttercream, you get a deep, resonating flavor that pairs perfectly with the herbal rosemary and caramelized little date bits in the cake itself. As far as rolling the cake goes, it’s imperative that you roll the cake right after you’ve pulled it from the oven, when it’s still hot. It’s most flexible at this point—waiting until it cools will mean certain breakage. As for the rolling fabric, I’ve found linen dusted with confectioners’ sugar to be the least sticky and easiest to work with.
— Makes one 9-inch (23-cm) -long rolled cake —
ROSEMARY-AND-DATE ROULADE
1 tablespoon unsalted butter, at room temperature, plus more for greasing the pan
1 cup (130 g) cake flour
½ teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
3 large eggs
1 egg yolk
1 cup (200 g) granulated sugar
⅓ cup (75 ml) whole milk
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 tablespoon finely chopped fresh rosemary, plus 3 sprigs fresh rosemary, for garnish
1 cup (145 g) chopped pitted dates
Confectioners’ sugar, for dusting
BROWN-BUTTER BUTTERCREAM
1 cup (2 sticks/225 g) unsalted butter
3 cups (300 g) confectioners’ sugar
2 tablespoons heavy cream
¼ teaspoon pure vanilla extract
¼ teaspoon flake kosher sea salt
—Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C). Line a 9 by 13-inch (23 by 33-cm) pan with parchment paper cut to fit and grease the sides with unsalted butter.
—For the cake, in a medium bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, and cinnamon. Set aside.
—In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, beat together the eggs, egg yolk, and granulated sugar on medium-high speed until pale and fluffy, 2 to 3 minutes. Add the milk and vanilla and mix until combined. Add the flour mixture and rosemary and fold until incorporated. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and evenly distribute the chopped dates over it. Bake until set and lightly golden around the edges, about 13 minutes.
—Remove the cake from the oven and invert it onto a linen dish towel dusted with confectioners’ sugar. Carefully remove the parchment paper, then trim the edges of the cake, dust the cake with more confectioners’ sugar, and place another linen dish towel on top. Starting at the long side of the cake, tightly roll the cake and allow it to cool to room temperature.
—For the brown-butter buttercream, in a large stainless-steel skillet, melt the butter over medium heat. Swirl the pan around a bit every couple of minutes to help it cook evenly. Over a period of several minutes, the foam at the top of the butter will change from a light yellow to dark tan. Once it reaches the dark tan stage, smell it. It should smell nutty and toasted. Remove from the heat and set aside to cool to room temperature.
—Transfer the browned butter to the clean bowl of the stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Add the confectioners’ sugar, cream, vanilla, and salt, and beat at medium-high speed until smooth and fluffy, 4 to 5 minutes.
—Gently unroll the cake and remove the towel. Spread the butter-cream over the top of the cake and roll it back up again. Garnish with fresh rosemary sprigs and more confectioners’ sugar.
The zippy acidity of cranberries is subdued by the sweetness of crisp winter apples in this aromatic and comforting pie. The color is also quite the sight to behold, with bubbling bright red juices flowing up around the patterned crust’s edges. The crust itself has a little bit of graham cracker crumbs in it for some extra flavor and texture, and I use little pie stamps to cut out the fun shapes on top of the pie. You can find pie stamps on Amazon.com and at specialty baking stores, but feel free to top it with a lattice pattern instead. I love serving this with a scoop of vanilla ice cream for some melty, creamy contrast to the fruity pie.
— Makes one 9-inch (23-cm) pie —
CRANBERRY-APPLE FILLING
1¼ pounds (570 g) apples, peeled, cored, and chopped
14 ounces (400 g) fresh cranberries
1 cup (200 g) sugar
1 cinnamon stick
1¼ teaspoons ground nutmeg
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon flake kosher sea salt
¼ teaspoon ground cloves
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
GRAHAM CRACKER CRUST
2 cups (250 g) all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
¾ cup (90 g) graham cracker crumbs
2 tablespoons sugar
¾ teaspoon flake kosher sea salt
¼ teaspoon ground allspice
¼ teaspoon ground nutmeg
¼ teaspoon ground ginger
1 cup (2 sticks/225 g) unsalted butter, frozen
10 to 13 tablespoons (150 to 195 ml) ice water
—For the cranberry-apple filling, in a medium saucepan, combine the apples, cranberries, sugar, cinnamon stick, and ¼ cup (60 ml) water and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Reduce the heat to medium-low and cook, uncovered, until the mixture has thickened, the cranberries have burst, and the apples are very soft, about 30 minutes, stirring every 5 to 10 minutes. Remove from the heat and stir in the nutmeg, ground cinnamon, salt, cloves, and vanilla. Set aside to cool to room temperature. Once cooled, remove and discard the cinnamon stick.
—For the graham cracker crust, in a large bowl, mix together the flour, ½ cup (60 g) of the graham cracker crumbs, the sugar, salt, allspice, nutmeg, and ginger until combined. Grate the frozen butter over the bowl, stirring it every 30 seconds to help coat the individual shards of butter in the flour mixture. Add 10 tablespoons (150 ml) of the water in 1-tablespoon increments, stirring, until all the water has been added. Knead the dough for 1 to 2 minutes to help disperse the moisture, then grab a handful of the mixture and squeeze. If it generally sticks together when you let go, it is fine. If it completely crumbles apart, it needs another tablespoon or so of water.
—Once the dough holds its shape, roll it out on a floured work surface until it is ¼ inch (12 mm) thick. Transfer it to a 9-inch (23-cm) pie plate, trim the excess, and form the edge. If you’d like, you can save the excess dough and roll it out again to ¼ inch (12 mm) thick, then use pie stamps or cookie cutters to cut out shapes to place on top of the pie for decoration. Place the crust and any decorative shapes in the freezer for 30 minutes.
—Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C).
—Pour the filling into the crust and top with the remaining ¼ cup graham cracker crumbs and the decorative crust shapes. Bake until the crust is golden brown around the edges, 45 to 55 minutes. Remove from the oven and allow to cool for 1 hour before slicing and serving.
Carrots are chock-full of natural sugars, which is why they make such a great addition to sweets. Much like beets, the sugars in carrots caramelize when you cook them, creating a deep and slightly toasty flavor. This bread pudding pulls a lot of ingredients from traditional carrot cake—like cinnamon, vanilla, allspice, and cloves—but it also has a little extra something called cajeta. Cajeta has that wonderfully rich creaminess of dulce de leche but with the slight tang of goat’s milk, making for an incredibly complex and deeply addicting caramel sauce. An important word of note: to get the bread pudding to hold the shape of the Bundt pan and unmold properly, you must allow the cake to cool completely to room temperature while still in the pan. This will take several hours, but if you rush it, the bread pudding will not hold the Bundt pan’s shape and will instead begin to expand outward. Patience is key when making this recipe.
— Makes 1 bread pudding Bundt —
CAJETA
7 cups (1.7 L) goat’s milk
2½ cups (500 g) sugar
1 cinnamon stick
1 vanilla bean, split lengthwise
CARROT BREAD PUDDING
Unsalted butter, for greasing
3 large eggs
3 egg yolks
3 cups (720 ml) whole milk
⅔ cup (165 ml) heavy cream
½ cup (60 ml) honey
1½ teaspoons pure vanilla extract
1½ teaspoons ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon ground allspice
¼ teaspoon ground cloves
¼ teaspoon flake kosher sea salt
14 cups stale French bread, about 12 ounces (340 g), cut into 1-inch (2.5-cm) cubes
10 ounces (280 g) carrots, peeled and grated
—For the cajeta, in a medium saucepan, combine the goat’s milk, sugar, cinnamon stick, and vanilla bean pod and seeds. Cook over low heat, stirring about every 10 minutes, until the mixture turns a light caramel color, 1 hour 15 minutes to 1 hour 30 minutes. Continue to cook, stirring every 5 minutes at first but then stirring every minute once it gets closer to a deep golden color, until the mixture turns a deep golden color and thickens, 30 to 45 minutes more. To see if it is done, place a drop of it in a glass of room-temperature water. If it stays roughly in shape, it is done. If it spreads out and starts partially dissolving in the water, it needs more cooking time. Once done, remove it from the heat, remove and discard the cinnamon stick and vanilla bean husks, and set aside to cool to room temperature.
—Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C). Set an 8-inch (20-cm) cake pan two-thirds full of water on the lowest rack of the oven. This will fill the oven with steam as it simmers and help keep the bread pudding moist. Generously grease a 10-cup (2.4 L) Bundt pan with unsalted butter.
—In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs, egg yolks, milk, cream, honey, ¼ cup (60 ml) of the cajeta, the vanilla, cinnamon, allspice, cloves, and salt until completely smooth. In a separate large bowl, toss together the bread cubes and carrots. Pour the egg mixture over the bread mixture and toss gently with your hands to coat. Allow the mixture to soak for 15 minutes.
—Pour the bread mixture into the Bundt pan, pressing down on the bread pudding in the pan to compress the bread cubes to allow them all to fit in the pan. Place the Bundt pan on a rack just above the water-filled cake pan and bake until the bread pudding pulls away from the sides of the pan and looks golden on top, 50 to 60 minutes. Remove the pan of water from the oven and discard it.
—Turn the oven off, open the oven door, and allow the bread pudding to cool completely in the oven. If you skip this step, the bread pudding will not hold the shape of the Bundt pan once unmolded. It has to be completely cool before it is unmolded from the pan. To unmold the Bundt, invert it onto the serving plate and gently pull the pan up; the Bundt cake should remain on the plate. Drizzle with ½ cup (120 ml) of the cajeta and serve with the remaining cajeta for drizzling on each slice. The cajeta should be used at room temperature, but if it is too thick to drizzle easily it can be heated to make it easier to pour. Any leftover cajeta can be stored in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 3 weeks.
People use the term winter citrus pretty regularly nowadays, but the source of its meaning isn’t really widely known, and, because I am a giant food nerd, I am going to share it with you. . . . Back in the day, when being able to quickly ship exotic fruits and vegetables wasn’t really an option, wealthy English landowners had gardeners whose jobs it was to keep the land of the estate producing and looking robust. Because they needed food sources year-round, the landowners had elaborate and beautiful greenhouses built, and the best of the best gardeners would be able to produce a harvest of fruits, namely citrus, in the dead of winter. And thus “winter citrus” was born. There are so many types of citrus out there, and the best part is that you can use any of them for this cake. It’s not limited to orange, lemon, kumquat, tangerine, or grapefruit—the rainbow citrus sky is the limit with this one!
— Makes one 8-inch (20-cm) cake —
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, plus more for greasing the pan
½ cup (110 g) packed light brown sugar
1 tablespoon honey
2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
5 to 8 thin various citrus slices
2 cups (250 g) all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon flake kosher sea salt
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon ground cardamom
4 large eggs
1⅓ cups (265 g) granulated sugar
½ cup (120 ml) extra-virgin olive oil
¼ cup (60 ml) fresh orange or blood orange juice
¼ cup (60 ml) fresh citrus juice, such as lemon or lime juice
3 tablespoons whole milk
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
1 teaspoon grated orange zest
—Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C). Grease an 8-inch (20-cm) round cake pan well with unsalted butter and line the bottom with parchment paper cut to fit.
—In a small saucepan, combine the butter, brown sugar, honey, and lemon juice and heat over low heat, whisking, until the sugar has dissolved. Remove from the heat and pour the syrup into the prepared cake pan. Arrange the citrus slices over the bottom of the pan in an even layer, overlapping them to ensure the entire bottom of the pan is covered. Set aside.
—In a medium bowl, stir together the flour, baking powder, salt, cinnamon, and cardamom until blended. Set aside.
—In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat the eggs, granulated sugar, and oil on medium-low speed until smooth. Add the orange juice, citrus juice, milk, vanilla, and orange zest and mix until incorporated. Gradually add the flour mixture and mix until just blended.
—Fill the cake pan three-quarters full with batter and bake for 30 to 40 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean. Allow it to cool in the pan for 10 minutes, then invert it onto a wire rack, peel off the parchment paper, and allow to cool completely before slicing and serving.
Douglas fir, spruce, and hemlock tree tips can make for a nourishing herbal tea. The flavor tastes pretty much how the tree smells, making it incredibly bright and refreshing. So, what are fir tips, anyway? Well, they’re called tips for a reason, and that’s because they’re the softer, brighter green, newer growth that’s right at the tip of the branch. You can see the color difference pretty clearly. When harvesting, you want to snip off the really bright green part and leave the darker green, older growth in place. You can do this in spring when the whole new growth is soft and pliable, and you can still do it in the fall and winter, when the new growth stem will have become a bit woody. Once you get home from foraging, you’ll need to spread out the clippings in an even layer on a wire rack with a large sheet of waxed paper or parchment paper underneath it. Let them dry out for three days at room temperature, then you can pull the needles off the woody stems more easily, saving the needles and discarding the stems.
— Makes 10 cups (2.4 L) —
3 ounces (85 g) freshly dried fir tip needles
4 ounces (115 g) dried lemon verbena leaves
2 ounces (55 g) dried chrysanthemum blossoms
1 ounce dried peppermint leaves
—In a medium bowl, mix together the fir tips, lemon verbena, chrysanthemum, and peppermint until combined. Store in a brown paper bag; best if used within 1 month. For steeping, steep 1 tablespoon of the tea mixture in 1 cup (240 ml) hot water for 5 minutes, strain, and enjoy.
Using fresh, ripe cranberries makes all the difference in this drink, which relies on a homemade cranberry syrup to impart a little sweet tanginess. I get my cranberries from a local Pacific Northwest grower called Starvation Alley (highly recommended if you’re in the area), but any organic fresh cranberries will be great. You just want to avoid any nonorganic ones, since pesticides can add an unpleasant chemical flavor to the syrup. The gin adds a pleasantly refreshing quality to the drink, while the raspberry liqueur helps balance out the tartness of the cranberry syrup with some extra-fruity sweetness. The sparkling water adds a light and bubbly mouthfeel, giving a celebratory quality to this cocktail that is perfect for holiday gatherings.
— Serves 4 —
CRANBERRY SYRUP
2 cups (190 g) fresh cranberries
1 cup (200 g) sugar
1 cinnamon stick
CRANBERRY GIN SPRITZER
16 ounces (480 ml) gin
8 ounces (240 ml) Cranberry Syrup
4 ounces (120 ml) raspberry liqueur
24 ounces (720 ml) sparkling water
—For the cranberry syrup, bring the cranberries, sugar, 1 cup (240 ml) water, and cinnamon stick to a boil in a small saucepan over medium-high heat. Reduce the heat to medium-low and simmer, uncovered, for 10 minutes, breaking the cranberries apart with a wooden spoon as they cook. Remove from the heat and set aside to cool to room temperature.
—Strain the syrup into a bowl, discarding the cranberries and cinnamon stick.
—For the cranberry gin spritzer, in a medium bowl, stir together the gin, cranberry syrup, and the raspberry liqueur. Add the sparkling water, stir gently, and pour into four lowball glasses.
I didn’t try homemade eggnog until I was in my late twenties. This was because every time I had store-bought eggnog, I hated it, and I assumed that all eggnog tasted like rancid bubblegum. As it turns out, I was deeply mistaken, and I learned this at Portland restauranteur Jeffrey Morgenthaler’s bar, Clyde Common. I had my first real eggnog there, and a deep and lasting love affair began. I tried many iterations with different alcohols and liqueurs, some with just yolks, some with egg whites and yolks, some with mostly cream, some with mostly milk, some with honey, some with granulated sugar . . . well, you get the idea. After much experimenting, I settled on this recipe. I use both the egg whites and the yolks, because I love the silky mouthfeel the whites give to the drink, but I whisk the yolks with maple syrup first until they ribbon to make the consistency of the drink extra-smooth. I use rum as well as hazelnut liqueur, but you could also sub in brandy and amaretto, depending on your flavor preferences and what you have handy. For me, the most important aspect of good eggnog is the nutmeg. It has to be freshly grated. Fresh nutmeg has a buttery, nutty, toasty quality that the preground stuff loses after sitting on the shelf so long. You can find whole nutmeg at most natural food stores and at Mountain Rose Herbs’ website (mountainroseherbs.com). I recommend grating it on the finest setting of your grater, too, to keep the consistency nice and fine so you don’t get any strange crunchy bits of nutmeg in the ’nog.
— Serves 6 —
4 large eggs, separated
⅓ cup plus 1 tablespoon (90 ml) maple syrup
16 ounces (480 ml) whole milk
8 ounces (240 ml) heavy cream
4 ounces (120 ml) golden rum
3 ounces (90 ml) hazelnut or amaretto liqueur
½ teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg, plus more for garnishing
½ teaspoon unsweetened cocoa powder, plus more for garnishing
¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon
¼ teaspoon ground cloves
—In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, beat the egg yolks and maple syrup on medium-high speed until very pale, fluffy, and thick and a steady ribbon of the mixture flows down from the whisk when it’s lifted from the bowl, 2 to 3 minutes.
—Transfer the egg yolk mixture to a blender and add the egg whites, milk, cream, rum, liqueur, nutmeg, cocoa powder, cinnamon, and cloves. Cover and blend on medium speed for 30 seconds. Stir in any froth on top of the mixture and pour into a pitcher.
—Garnish with a few pinches of nutmeg and cocoa powder. Can be served warm or chilled. Will keep in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 2 weeks.
