A Lemony End to Summer

My mother and I have completely fallen in love with Molly Wizenberg. If you don't know who she is already, check out www.orangette.blogspot.com, or better yet, go out and buy her delightful book, A Homemade Life. 

This may sound creepy (and it might be, a little bit) but my mom and I sometimes even refer to Molly as if we know her. Sample conversation - Mom: "What are you making for dessert tonight?" Me: "Oh, I thought I'd try that chocolate cake recipe. You know, the one Molly had at her wedding." Mom: "Oh yeah, great idea!" Both her book and website are full of recipes that almost always deliver. (I don't recommend the tomato fennel soup. So far that's been our only backfire.) But the greatest success of all so far has been Molly Wizenberg's French Style Yogurt Cake with Lemon. I've made it twice now, and it is surprisingly uncomplicated for a dessert that provides such satisfying results. You can find the original recipe here. I make it just like she does.

The first time I made the cake, I served it with blueberries and white raspberries, and used both the syrup and the icing from the recipe. The result: lemony bliss; the very soul of summer.

A Parisian Feast

The 22nd of July marked my second visit to Paris, which is surprising when you consider that my first visit was not all that great. In fairness to the City of Lights, the first time I went to Paris none of our party knew any French, and we went right after a stunning trip to London. After the delightful four days which were my experience in England, Paris seemed like a maze of dirty subways, unbearable heat (it was July then, too), and snobby locals. But when my French-speaking friend Vivian invited me to meet her in Paris for a day before the two of us headed to Amsterdam for the weekend, I couldn't resist. And I am oh-so-glad I didn't.

Having already visited the main tourist attractions in Paris (Eiffel Tower, Louvré, Champs de Elysees, etc.) before, Vivian and I were both utterly unfettered by the usual pressure that comes with visiting a huge city in very little time. Instead, we spent the two nights and one day doing what one should really be doing in the most romantic of cities. . . eating. We made it our goal to take the subway as infrequently as possible, thereby forcing ourselves to walk long distances to each spot on our culinary hit list. Even so, they practically had to roll me to the train station on Friday morning after the day and a half of blissful gluttony that was that trip.

The evening I arrived, we went over to one of Vivian's friend's apartments for dinner. There were baguettes with goat cheese and honey, chopped carrots, sliced avocados, and at least three bottles of wine. As appetizers. For dinner, we had zucchini and mushroom risotto and a huge green salad, and because one girl didn't like risotto (what?) there was also angel hair pasta with spinach pesto sauce. Those girls could cook! 

Thursday morning, Viv and I headed down to Rue Mouffetard to revisit the most memorable part of my earlier trip to Paris: a huge, open-air food market. My friend Chris and I had gone there several years earlier and gotten a picnic lunch of bread, cheese, olives, and fruit, and then gone to a nearby park where I happily read the final Harry Potter book, which had been released that very day. Unfortunately, I failed to recall that the day we went to the market had been a Saturday, so the winding alleyways crammed with all manner of stands was reduced to a mere shadow in my memory. Nonetheless, Viv and I had a great time meandering through the stalls stocked with wine, cheeses, berries, seafood, and melons. We opted out of the picnic lunch, though, and ate at a small French bistro that had a killer lunch special -- three courses for nine euros. The highlight of lunch was Vivian's dessert, a chestnut purée topped with Chantilly cream. 

That afternoon, I had both the best pastry and the best ice cream I have ever had in my life. The ice cream came from what is arguably Paris's most famous gelato shop, Berthillion. The flavors were so unique and delicious-sounding that I seriously considered having three scoops. I managed to control myself, though, and chose two of the most perfect flavors ever to be created, I'm quite sure: Praline Amaretto and Raspberry Rose. I still regret passing up the Caramel Ginger, though . . . I'm just not sure I could have done three scoops with a clear conscience.

After a long afternoon of shopping, Viv and I were ready for a snack. We had passed a fancy-looking bakery that was suspiciously located amongst the fashionable boutiques of Marais, probably to lure young women such as ourselves, who had worked up an appetite browsing the pricey shoes and jewelry and stylish little dresses. Without knowing exactly what I was buying, I pointed to a square pastry with yellow layers and sugar dotting the outside. I'll have to ask Vivian again what the official French name of the pastry was, but to me it was the most perfect lemon bar imaginable.

Double Date

On one of my last evenings in Regensburg, Claudiu and I went on a double date with our friends Anya and Erwin. Anya is a vegetarian, and all four of us are always up for a good meal at a fun restaurant, so we decided to try Raddichio, an organic restaurant I'd come across when searching vegan options in Regensburg. I wish I could report that it was as fabulous as I had hoped, but all four of us were pretty underwhelmed. Not only were we the only people in the entire restaurant, but they were out of almost everything we tried to order! Apparently they were going to be switching the menu out the following day, so they hadn't restocked many of the listed ingredients in anticipation of the change. Anya's dish was certainly the prettiest, though: a polenta tower topped with sautéed vegetables.

Pfifferling Season

For the last month or so of my time in Germany, chanterelle mushrooms were taking the country by storm. It was like the springtime asparagus craze; these little guys were not only being sold by the kilo in every grocery store and street market, but they were also the focus of entire seasonal menus at virtually every respectable eating establishment in sight. 

I discovered only recently that I am a 'mushroom person.' My mother is a phenomenal cook (and that is an understatement) and will prepare and eat almost anything. . . but not mushrooms. Whether she's allergic or just averse to the edible fungi we aren't quite sure, but the fact remains that I grew up unaccustomed to eating them. Now that I've lived in a country that dedicates entire seasons to the different varieties of mushrooms, I can say definitively that they have to be one of my favorite things to eat. Once I'm back at school (and out of my mother's kitchen) I'll be experimenting more with the earthy flavors they bring to a dish.

This is a picture of one of the specials on the Pfifferling menu from a restaurant in Regensburg called Hemingway's: a penne pasta with cherry tomatoes, arugula, chanterelles, fresh chives, and ricotta.

A few weeks ago Claudiu and I visited his sisters, who live in a beautiful house in the country, about a fifteen minute train ride from Regensburg. For dinner, his sister Gabi prepared a delicious vegetable sauté with carrots, zucchini, tomatoes, leeks, and mushrooms they had picked earlier that morning in the forest nearby. Fresh!

Back in Action

Wow, sorry about that. I have been completely missing in action, primarily due to final exams, term papers, and a fantastic trip to Paris and Amsterdam (more on that later). But I have returned, with about 76,092 new photos and some unbelievable culinary experiences to share with you. 

I know I've talked about gooseberries before, but I didn't include a picture of the precious little fruits. I still haven't done anything other than devour them raw, but I did some research and apparently they make a mean pie. They're also quite popular in jam over here, and my grandmother recently brought back a jar of it from Germany that my great-aunt made with the gooseberries from her garden. Yum.

Day 30, or "Challenge Completed!"

For my last day of veganism (for now), I had a second sushi-making party. My guy friends were all a little offended that they didn't get the invite to the 'girls only' event with my grandmother, so I decided to let them be part of the fun this time. And oh goodness, was that a different experience. . . 

Sushi-making with just the girls was a relaxing, low-stress evening where everyone took their time and where we chatted while we rolled the sushi and sipped girly drinks. Sushi-making with the guys was an energetic event (to put it kindly). There was yelling, name-calling, and a crackling sense of competitiveness in the air. There was fighting over the sushi mats. It was hilarious; it was a ton of fun. We made about ten rolls, and not one piece went to waste. Plus, the boys helped with the dishes. 

And with this post, I can no longer call myself a vegan. (Actually, I still haven't eaten anything that's not, but I might.) For the next month or so, I'll be cooking 'normal' recipes (still healthy, though!). Sorry if this offends any of you, but most likely you're pretty thrilled. Me, too.

And just to give you an idea. . . My friend Lukas, smoking a sushi roll. Classic.

Day 29, or "Huge Zucchini"

A while ago, Claudiu's sisters dropped off an enormous zucchini from their garden. It sat in the fridge forgotten until yesterday, when we decided to cook something with it. I know from experience that large zucchinis sometimes don't taste very good (they tend to get bitter and stringy), so my first instinct was to bake some muffins or bread out of it. But Claudiu got my attention when he sent me this link for stuffed zucchinis. Neither of us wanted to try to locate millet in a German grocery store, though, so I looked around and found this one, which uses couscous--something I already had. I decided to combine the two and and create my own recipe. 

Earlier in the day, I spontaneously purchased 500 grams of green beans. I'm going to be honest and say that I still don't fully understand those little metric weight units. In other words, 500 grams is a whole freaking lot of green beans. Oops. But I wanted to try the shallot and green bean recipe my friend Katie recommended a while ago. Delicious!

Check out the size of that zucchini!!

Mediterranean Couscous Stuffed Zucchinis

Ingredients:

1 large or 2 medium zucchinis

1 cup couscous

2.5 cups vegetable broth 

large handful chopped, pitted kalamata olives

1/4 cup capers

1 can diced tomatoes

3 tbsp fresh parsley (I used frozen)

a few generous shakes of several types of dried herbs and spices (I used basil, oregano, sweet paprika, black pepper, and herbed salt)

2+ tsbp olive oil

1 medium yellow onion (I used a shallot)

Directions: Preheat oven to 350 degrees. 

To prepare couscous: Bring vegetable broth to a boil. Add couscous, stirring once. Remove from heat and cover. Let stand 10 minutes. Fluff with a fork. 

To prepare zucchini: Wash and remove stem. Cut zucchini in half lengthwise and place in a large pot, flat side down. Cover zucchinis halfway with water. Bring to a boil, cover and let simmer for 5 minutes. Place zucchinis on a plate and let cool. Once cool enough to work with, scoop out the pulp. If the zucchini is large, try to remove most of the seeds from the pulp. Chop the pulp and reserve.

Meanwhile, heat olive oil in a large skillet. Add onion (or shallot) and sauté two to three minutes. Add parsley and herbs; sauté one minute. Carefully add the tomatoes, juice included, to the pan (it might splatter) and the zucchini pulp. Finally, add the olives and capers. Remove from heat. 

Add couscous to the tomato mixture and mix well. 

Place zucchinis on a baking sheet and fill with couscous mixture, mounding slightly in the middle. 

Bake in the oven for 20 minutes. If you're not vegan, I'd recommend broiling some cheese on the top at the end, or grating some fresh parmesan over the top once its out of the oven:

Katie's Green Beans with Shallots

Ingredients:

500 grams? of green beans

3 shallots

3 tbsp olive oil

salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Directions: Wash and trim the ends off of the green beans. Boil for three minutes, and then plunge into ice water to stop the cooking and preserve color. Heat oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add shallots to pan and sauté 3 minutes. Add green beans and cook until beans are heated through, about 3-4 minutes. Season generously with salt and pepper.