When I began ‘Baking and Books’ last September I had no idea that this site would influence my palate, but the truth is that writing about food has introduced me to many novel aspects of the food world. Blogging about what I eat has inspired me to seek out new dishes and flavor combinations - all in the hopes of creating something interesting to post - and in that sense I’m fortunate to have a husband who shares my taste for culinary exploration. (The nerd in me can’t help put point out the Star Trek “new worlds and civilizations” reference, and yes I do think food can introduce us to new civilizations… worlds too if they had cookbooks.) Recently we’ve been experimenting with everything from stinky cheeses to spiced oils, and in the process we’ve discovered a number of uncommonly good meals, such as pumpkin seed pesto and Époisses de Bourgogne. For the most part we’ve both enjoyed each new flavor, but there have been exceptions. No matter what I pair it with my husband cannot comprehend my recently acquired adoration of sauerkraut (the lacto-fermented version of which is, incidentally, good for digestion). Nor does he understand the supreme satisfaction I derive from eating dried carob pods. I learned about this snack option while at the Cleanse with Hale who brought a large bundle of them from Turkey, and since then I have sought out these crunchy, mildly sweet delectables at every occasion. In Israel, where carob trees are abundant, hikers often harvest pods that have fallen to the ground, but since carob trees aren’t an everyday sight in New York (or Connecticut) my initial strategy was calling specialty food stores, where I’d ask befuddled clerks if they happened to have dried carob pods on hand. “I like to munch on them, you see.”

However, there is one aspect of our food exploration that we are in complete agreement on: nuts. Now this may surprise you, but until a few months ago I disliked most kinds of nuts, and to this day I don’t like peanut butter. But then I began to cook with pine nuts, and then almonds, and then hazelnuts. And oh yes, macadamias. A few weeks ago we added pistachios to our repertoire, making pistachio ice cream (a childhood favorite, I didn’t realize I was eating nuts), green biscotti, and lace cookies that looked like delicate leaves sprinkled with sugar. These forays into the world of pistachio were both tasty and culturally enriching, the latter because, at some point - I think while the ice cream was churning - I decided to begin researching the history of said nut. What started as a distraction from thoughts about spooning half-churned ice cream from the machine ended two hours later with the knowledge that pistachios are a member of the Cashew family, which also includes sumac, mango and poison ivy (a random fact I found immensely fascinating, for some reason). I also uncovered the banquet preferences of Mogul Emperor Akbar the Great, who instructed his cooks to feed chickens destined for the feast table nothing but pistachio nuts 8 weeks before the event. Akbar believed that ingesting the nuts would improve the flavor of the meat, and as emperor only the most delicious birds would do for his dinner guests. Another intriguing side-note: Pistachio trees grew in the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, which King Nebuchadnezzar II built for his wife when she was lonely and longing for the lush landscape of her homeland.

In addition to the goodies mentioned above, our exploration of the pistachio included the cake you see in this post. In my opinion it looks like it’s encrusted with jewels, the vibrant green and purple of the pistachio nuts infused into the fluffy cake, then studded along the surface. Color is one of the most important qualities of good food, transforming an ordinary dish into a feast for the eyes as well as the mouth, and this cake certainly satisfies in that regard. Once we’d sliced into it, removed our wedges, then soaked them with chilled rose syrup, both my husband and I simply sat and looked at the slices for a few moments, absorbing the color, and inhaling the fragrance of warm pistachios and roses. The cake itself is made without flour, which is unusual unless you remember that Passover cakes are also made without it. Indeed, like many passover cakes, nut flour and eggs provide the support necessary to give the cake its texture.

For the time being our revels with pistachios are at an end, my attention having been drawn to the art of baking with tea. Nevertheless I’m sure I’ll revisit the matter of pistachios soon. Afterall, we haven’t even begun to explore the realm savory pistachio dishes!

Pistachio Cake with Chilled Rose Syrup
Reprinted with permission from Arabesque, by Claudia Roden
Ingredients: Makes 1 cake (Serves 10 to 12)

For the syrup:
• 1 1/2 cups sugar
• 3/4 cup water
• 1 tablespoon lemon juice
• 2 tablespoons rose water

For the cake:
• 5 eggs, separated (Make sure there isn’t even one drop of yolk in the whites or the whites won’t stiffen into peaks later. To be on the safe side use 3 bowls: one to separate the eggs over, one for the yolks, and one for the whites.)
• 1 cup superfine sugar (I used confectioners sugar)
• 1 1/2 cups pistachios, ground finely
• 1/3 cup pistachios, chopped very coarsely
• To serve: 3/4 cup clotted or heavy cream (optional)

Make the syrup first. Bring the sugar, water and lemon juice to the boiling point and simmer until the sugar is dissolved, whisking gently throughout. Remove from heat and stir in the rose water. Let the syrup cool, then chill it in the refrigerator.

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees F.

With a hand held mixer or a stand mixer, beat the egg yolks with the sugar to a pale cream, then add the ground pistachios and mix well. With a clean whisking attachment and in a separate bowl, beat the egg whites until stiff. (Pull the whisk attachment out of the whites and invert it - if there are stiff peaks on the end of the attachment the whites are ready. Be careful not to beat them beyond this point.) Gently fold the whites into the cake batter. Pour into a greased and floured nonstick cake tin 9 to 10 inches in diameter and sprinkle the coarsely chopped pistachios on top. Bake for 45 minutes.

Turn the cake out into a deep serving dish. Make little holes over the top with a fork and pour over the syrup. The holes will let the syrup soak in quickly.

Serve, if you like, with clotted or heavy cream.

* A couple notes, in case you decide to recreate this recipe in your own kitchen: In my experience, this cake is best served the day it is made. We enjoyed our slices a couple hours after the cake emerged from the oven, but by the next day the flavor had diminished and the spongy texture had acquired a somewhat gummy feeling. My advice would be to serve this cake at a tea party, or when friends are visiting, so that most of it can be eaten the day of and what isn’t consumed can be sent home for snacks later that night. Also, the flavor of pistachio and rose are quite pronounced, which is a wondrous thing if you ask me, but may take getting used to if you haven’t eaten floral flavored cakes before.

The rose syrup soaks into the top and side of the slice.

Book Review: “Arabesque: A Taste of Morocco, Turkey and Lebanon” shares a delightful collection of recipes, each of which makes you feel as if you are experiencing a vibrant part of another culture. From Talaş Böreği, which takes you into the kitchens of Turkey, to Moroccan Briwat Bi Tamr (Dates Rolls in Honey Syrup), spending time with this book is akin to taking a culinary trip around the Middle East. Each chapter includes an introduction to the cuisine & history of the part of the world it seeks to represent. It is in sections like these that we learn, for example, about Lebanon’s history as a feudal state and how interactions between Sunni Muslim, Greek Orthodox and Ottoman culture influenced the cooking we recognize as Lebanese today. Such socio-historical tidbits are sprinkled throughout the book, while chapters are organized into sections about “starters & meze,” “main courses,” and “desserts.” Many recipes are accompanied by mouth-watering color photographs, so that this well-bound, artistically presented book would make a lovely coffee table book when you’re not using it in the kitchen. Most of the dishes I tried were truly delicious, opening my eyes to new spice combinations and flavors. It was not until this book, for instance, that I would have thought to add cinnamon, pine nuts and currants to a meat dish (vegetarian meat dish in our kitchen, but the principle is the same), nor would I have thought to add pomegranate molasses and cumin to a salad. On one or two occasions I wasn’t thrilled by the final result, but one cannot expect to fall in love with every recipe in a cookbook, especially one that is composed of meals so dissimilar from what you eat on an everyday basis. Recipes do assume that you have a firm grasp of basic cooking principles but at no point is this a hindrance. With internet access just a step away it is an easy thing, after all, to verify what “stiff egg whites” look like (Alton Brown did an entire show about this) or what greek-style yogurt is. Overall this book is a worthy addition to any collection - if you buy it and want my advice, make the Briwat Bi Loz (Almond Pastries in Honey Syrup) first. Not only are they easy to make, but the combination of crispy fillo, crunchy almonds and sweet syrup is hard to resist. Variations with confectioners sugar & orange blossom water are included for even more delightful exploration of this Moroccan dessert.

Although I read a lot of books, as far as I can remember I’ve only read two memoirs: “Eat, Pray, Love” by Elizabeth Gilbert and “The Late Bloomer’s Revolution” by Amy Cohen. The first caught my eye because the title drew an implicit connection between food, spirituality and passion (and I am so down with that). The second came to my attention when a book publicist shot an email my way, which said, essentially, “I have a great book to share with you. It’s a memoir about a woman who lost her writing job, then her mother (to cancer), then her boyfriend (who was almost her fiancé), then her face (to a hideous rash).” Whoa, I thought. That sounds pretty heavy… not sure if I want to spend my leisure hours with a book like that. But then the publicist continued. “It’s filled with observations that are at times sweet, then bittersweet, and often laugh-out-loud funny,” and it was here that she caught my attention. How could a book about so many difficult experiences be funny? Do I even want a book about such serious topics to be amusing? I decided there was only one way to find out.

The first paragraph of Chapter 1 begins: “I grew up thinking my mother had the answer to everything. Watch any black-and-white film and she always knew some obscure fact about an actor with one line. ‘See the fishmonger behind the ox, the one who’s yelling, “Slay the hunchback!” she’d say. ‘His name was Skids Monroe. He came out of the Yiddish theater and was tragically maimed in a Ferris wheel accident.”‘ From a reader’s point of view, I like paragraphs like this because you start in one place (in front of a household television) and end up somewhere completely unexpected (the scene of a Ferris wheel ride gone awry). This particular example may be a touch morbid, but you have to admit, it’s also interesting. Thankfully, Amy’s mom knew others things as well, like words. “‘The term “steatopygous” means characterized by fat around the hips,’” Amy recalls her mother saying in paragraph two. “It was once considered not cellulite, but a highly desirable benchmark of fertility! Remember that the next time you say you look hideous in a bathing suit.”

“The Late Bloomer’s Revolution” is filled with chuckle-worthy moments like this, which makes it all the more heart wrenching when, for instance, Amy’s mother finally succumbs to her illness. I would lament the end of a relationship in one moment, then laugh at Cohen’s ability to bring humor to a bad situation in the next. For instance, one day she went to the dry cleaners only to have the service woman greet her with “Oh God! What that on your face? You burn in grease fire?” - which is how Amy discovered the onset of a serious rash that marred her face and kept her homebound for almost a year. Yet despite such upheavals Amy’s humor shines through, turning what could have been a “look at all the awful things that have happened to me” memoir into a poignant, thought-provoking account of one woman’s search for love in New York city.

Overall I was delighted with “The Late Bloomer’s Revolution,” so when Amy’s publicist suggested that I include Amy in my author interview series I was happy to comply. (Amy is actually making quite a few blog appearances this month, so I wouldn’t be surprised if her ‘blog tour’ pops up elsewhere while you’re surfing the internet.) To tie everything in to the food side of this blog I asked Amy about her favorite comfort food dishes, one of which was macaroni and cheese. Hence, the recipe featured in this post.

In your book you have a humorous take on everything that has happened to you. Is this how you have always dealt with difficult situations or did the humor develop in retrospect?
I think for years I didn’t think of myself as particularly funny, it was more of a survival mechanism I wasn’t actually aware of. I thought I was a little weird. At age eight, my favorite book was by the photographer, Diane Arbus. I was partial to her Transvestite Series in particular. And later I considered myself difficult, for things like bringing a ham and cheese sandwich to a Yom Kippur service, but never necessarily funny. My Mom was sick so often when I was growing up, I think I just always felt the need to lighten the atmosphere. But yes, I would say now humor is my way of dealing with difficult things. My whole family is like that.

What advice would you give women who want to be in a relationship but haven’t yet found a meaningful one?
Live your life and do not, under any circumstances, wait, because I really do think meeting someone – the right someone – is a matter of luck. Don’t listen to friends who say you want it too much or you don’t want it enough. Don’t let anyone convince you the reason you haven’t met the right one has anything to do with you.

Especially don’t let yourself wonder “What’s wrong with me?” (which I wondered for years) No one could have done more to meet someone than I did and I really do believe meeting the right one is all luck.

Travel to places you’ve always wanted to go and if you’re afraid to travel alone, go with groups or friends; enjoy going into a crowded movie alone and getting a great seat because there’s only one left; eat those weird dinners you can only have when you’re single – the kind where you can have dessert first and then have some tortilla chips and some chicken and then go back to the chocolate cake in the fridge.

I’m not saying it’s not going to be hard. I know as well as anyone how painful it can be to go to wedding after wedding, and then the first birthday parties and feel like “Why isn’t it me?” But it will be even worse if you haven’t enjoyed your freedom, which has so many wonderful advantages that should be savored.

When you write, do you have a writing ritual? For instance, do you go to a particular place or listen to a certain kind of music?

Good question. I write in my apartment. I work in a small office that’s painted a shocking, hot pink. I can’t listen to music. I’m barely a single-tasker so I can’t multitask.

I need silence. And I typically work from 7 am to 2 pm. And every day is Shabbat – meaning I turn off the phone and don’t watch tv. But I do have lights. And my computer. And shrimp in the freezer (for when I make Fra Diavolo with linguine). Okay, so it’s my version of Shabbat.

What is your all-time favorite book?

Tough. Oooooh. I know it’s unfair of me to choose more than one, but the all time favorite shifts occasionally as years pass. At different times of my life it’s been each of these books: Eleven Kinds of Loneliness (Richard Yates); Nine Stories (J.D Salinger); Lolita (Nabokov); The Collected Stories of John Cheever; Naked by David Sedaris.

If you could invite any living person to dinner, who would you invite and what would you serve?

I’d love to have Elizabeth Edwards. She and my sister were diagnosed with breast cancer the same day and I’d like to have a little celebratory dinner for the three of us and the many other breast cancer survivors we’ve gotten to know in the last few years.

Since it would be a celebration, I’d go all out.

I would start with a baked artichoke dip, served alongside a bowl of sweet and spicy cashews; a Caesar salad with homemade dressing, croutons and pancetta; sweet sausage and spinach lasagna; garlic bread with basil; and for dessert, an Apple Cake. And I’d serve Prosecco, too, because I love it and when I was at Graceland I got some Elvis champagne flutes.

To you, comfort food means…
Fried Chicken – we had this every Friday night growing up. I sat so close the TV, my eyeballs got tan and ate fried chicken.

Tuna Casserole (not because I like it, but I love seeing and thinking about tuna casseroles, because it was the one dish my mother made – literally THE ONE – she made it with sweet, Italian sausages and Campbells Cream of Mushroom soup — and it always reminds me of her.)

Macaroni and Cheese – elbow, noodle, American cheese, Fontina and Parmesan. Any take on this yummy classic.

Amy Cohen lives and writes in New York City. You can visit her online at www.byamycohen.com and, if you live in the NYC Metro area, you can meet her this Tuesday, July 10th, at 7pm. Location: Barnes & Noble 675 6th Ave. (21street).

Macaroni & Cheese (My Recipe)

• 1 lb short pasta (cavatappi, rotini, macaroni, whatever you like best. I used whole wheat pasta in the Mac N’Cheese pictured above)
• 5 tablespoons of butter
• 1/4 cup all-purpose flour
• 4 cups milk
• 1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper
• 1/8 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg (you can use dry ground nutmeg too, but fresh is better)
• 3 cups of cheese (You can use whatever combination of cheeses you like so long as the cheese melts well. In the photo above I used 1 1/2 cups of sharp cheddar and 1 1/2 cups of Monterrey Jack. Other good options include: Parmesean, mozzarella, Muenster, Swiss, Gruyere and Pecorino Romano. You can add up to 1 additional cup of cheese if you like for a total of 4 cups of cheese.)
• 1 1/2 cups coarse breadcrumbs
• Kosher salt

Preheat your oven to 375 degrees F.

Bring a large pot of salted water to boil and cook the pasta 1 to 2 minutes less than the package instructions indicate. Lightly butter a large casserole dish and add the drained pasta. Set aside.

Heat 4 tablespoons of butter in a medium saucepan over medium-high heat. Add the flour and cook, whisking constantly, for about 1 minute. Add the milk, nutmeg, cayenne, and 2 teaspoons of kosher salt. Bring to a simmer, whisking continuously, and continue to cook until the sauce is thick enough to lightly coat the back of a wooden spoon. Add the cheese, 1 cup at a time, whisking between additions. Continue to stir until all the cheese has melted and the sauce is smooth.

Pour the cheese sauce over the pasta (which should be in the baking dish), mix well to coat.

Melt 1 tablespoon of butter. Put the breadcrumbs in a small dish then add the melted butter, mix well. Sprinkle this mixture over the pasta. Cover with aluminum foil and bake for 30 to 35 minutes. For a golden color you can remove the foil near the end of the baking time and cook the mac n’cheese uncovered for 5 minutes.

Two More Reviews:
Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant
I love reading essays about food, especially when they are authored by talented writers like Laurie Colwin, M.F.K. Fisher, Ann Patchett and Nora Ephron. So when I opened this book and discovered that the first chapter was a story by Laurie Colwin my curiosity was immediately piqued. “For eight years I lived in a one bedroom apartment a little larger than the Columbia Encyclopedia,” Colwin begins, “… I had enough space for a twin-sized bed, a very small night table, and a desk… Instead of a kitchen, this minute apartment featured a metal counter… on top of which was what I called the stove but which was only two electric burners - in short, a hot plate.” With the scene set Colwin then proceeds to share with her readers some of the meals she cooked for herself, and others, in her tiny abode. One of her favorite things to cook when dining alone was eggplant, and hence it is from this portion of the story that Colwin’s essay, and this book, get their title: “Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant.”

Indeed, eating alone, whether at a restaurant or at home, is the theme of this book, in which the author attempts to answer the question: how do we feed ourselves when we’re alone, when there are no one else’s needs to take into consideration? Each writer interprets this question in their own way, with some lauding the versatility of beans and others reminiscing about spaghetti. Amanda Hesser shares her thoughts on “single cuisine,” by which she means the simple, yet satisfying, meals she and her friends enjoy during their solitary nights at home: truffled egg toast, single girl salmon, and an enticing pasta dish made with garlic, olive oil, fried eggs, pepper and freshly grated cheese. This latter dish belongs to Hesser’s sister who, once all her ingredients are assembled, tosses them with pasta water, causing the egg yolks to crack open in the process. The yolks then dress the strands of pasta turning an ordinary dish into “a rustic, simple carbonara, minus the bacon.” Delicious descriptions like this made my mouth water and in an act of profound thoughtfulness many essays are accompanied by recipes. In the end I couldn’t help but devour this book.

A Slice of Organic Life
“A Slice of Organic Life” introduces readers to the various ways they can incorporate organic living into their routines, regardless of where they live or how much time they have on their hands. Chapter one, titled “No Need for a Yard,” has a variety of easy tips that can be adopted by someone living in a small apartment, from shopping ethically and growing strawberries in a hanging basket, to growing herbs indoors and then drying those herbs for storage. Each topic is 2 to 4 pages long and gives the reader a brief, yet helpful, introduction to the subject. Recipes are included where appropriate, for instance, in the section about how to make & freeze baby foods, where the authors share recipes for baby meals like herb mash, carrot soup, and fruit smoothies. The second chapter of this book is meant, as the title indicates, for people who live in an apartment or house with a “Roof terrace, Patio, or Tiny Yard.” Here how-to topics include growing an apple tree in a pot, gardening without pesticides and collecting rainwater to water your plants. The third chapter, titled “Yard, Community Garden, or Field,” takes organic living to its utmost manifestation and includes sections such as how to preserve fruit, create a wildlife pond, make apple juice, milk a cow and make freshly churned butter. Every page includes eye-catching color photographs and much food for thought. Indeed, if I had a large yard the section on keeping chickens would have left me seriously considering building a coop.

In general the chapters in this book are well-conceived and enjoyable, but on a couple occasions the authors took their enthusiasm for organic living a bit too far. For instance, on page 102 they counsel readers to forage for mushrooms in the wild, which is dangerous advice if only because several lethal mushrooms resemble their edible cousins. Though the authors share photos of four poisonous mushrooms and council newbie foragers to tag along with experienced foragers in the beginning, only an expert should attempt to gather mushrooms for consumption. Every year approximately 9,000 people in the US accidentally poison themselves with mushrooms, and though one could easily talk around this point by noting how a majority of the people poisoned are curious children with an appetite for fungi, in my book it counts for something that even food expert Alton Brown has said he wouldn’t presume to pick mushrooms in the wild. Nevertheless, on the whole, this book is an excellent introduction to organic living, giving readers the opportunity to thumb through a user-friendly manual on how to make their lives more environmentally friendly without abandoning metropolitan life or giving up creature comforts. “A Slice of Organic Life” will make you rethink how you approach even the most mundane aspects of your life.