alfajores de uruguay

This is it, folks. A real live heirloom recipe, passed through Richy's Uruguayan family. But the recipe didn't start there. It was originally an Arabic cookie, passed to Spain during the Moorish occupation. At that time, it was a cylindrical confection of ground almonds, honey, spices, and bread crumbs. When the Spanish conquered the New World, they brought the cookie with them, but many of the ingredients were unavailable, and so it finally morphed into the form that Richy and I have come to enjoy: two soft, crumbly shortbread cookies sandwiched with dulce de leche and covered in coconut.



It was with this very cookie that Richy tried to win me over. He started with walnut chocolate chip cookies, but to seal the deal he broke out the big guns. Surely, he knew that to bring me alfajores on his first visit would make a certain statement. These are big, passionate cookies. It would have been a bold fist move, so he decided to begin more subtly. But when the time was right, he brought me a batch of alfajores in all their saucy glory. And I guess you could say it worked.



But I digress; let's get back to the cookies themselves. It's very important to use a good dulce de leche, so get thee to a bodega for the good stuff (and not the Nestle kind, ¡Dios mío!). We used a brand called Los Nietitos, from Uruguay, but you can also make your own. You also have to be careful not to let the cookies brown in the oven, or they won't have the right texture. They should be soft rather than crispy. I think this texture stems largely from the generous use of cornstarch. You might be shocked by the amount of cornstarch you use in this recipe, but it works! You also might be struck by the whitness of the ingredients--white sugar, white flour, cornstarch, baking powder, coconut flakes--but at this point I have accepted that baked goods are essentially homemade processed food. But don't let that get in the way of your enjoyment. Break out the cornstarch and make these cookies.


Alfajores de Uruguay
100 grams of butter (8 tablespoons)
150 grams of sugar (3/4 cup)
1 egg
1 egg yolk
zest of one lemon
160 grams of cornstarch (1-1/4 cups)*
60 grams of flour (1/2 cup)
1 teaspoon baking powder
dulce de leche
shredded coconut

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and line a baking sheet with parchment paper. With an electric mixer, beat the butter and sugar until creamy. Stir in the egg and egg yolk and beat well. Then, add the lemon zest. In a separate bowl, sift together the cornstarch, flour, and baking powder. Add the dry ingrediants to the butter mixture and mix until dough forms. Let the dough rest for 15 minutes. After the dough has rested, add cornstarch until the dough no longer sticks to the counter or your rolling pin. Be careful not to add too much cornstarch or else the dough will become crumbly and not hold together. (I ended up using an additional 50g for this batch, but this amount will vary. Do not be afraid to use as much as necessary.) On a floured surface, roll dough to 1/8-inch thickness and cut into desired shapes. Arrange cookies on baking sheet and bake for 8 minutes, or just before the cookies begin to brown.

Allow cookies to cool completely on the baking sheet before handling. Spread a generous amount of dulce de leche between two cookies. Then, coat the sides of the cookies with a thin layer of dulce de leche. Be sure to get a little on the top and bottom edges as well.

Fill a baking sheet with an even layer of shredded coconut. Roll alfajores in the shredded coconut to coat. Press both sides of the alfajor into the shredded coconut to coat the top and bottom edges.

* You will likely need to use more cornstarch than indicated because the dough will be too sticky to handle.

banishing the mini blinds, or building a copper curtain rod

When we moved in back in August, I told Richy that I could no longer have mini blinds in my life. This became something of a refrain over the next few months. For example, in the curtain section of IKEA I'm pretty sure I said "I CAN'T HAVE MINI BLINDS IN MY LIFE." I probably also said it in Home Depot, and at night, as I was settling into bed, it would become a lament. But finally, after months of hemming and hawing and procrastinating and planning, we have replaced the last mini blinds in the house.

Can I just say that these things were hideous?:


They were so gray, dusty, and depressing. In the morning, the light that filtered through them was dull and dreary. But the task of replacing them seemed daunting. The nature of the space made it too cramped for three separate curtain rods, and I have a constitutional distaste for finials. I suppose it's possible that someone out there manufactures tasteful curtain rods and finials, but after searching for several months, we were stumped. We also investigated curtain rod elbows so we could use one continuous curtain rod for the entire area, but those were kind of expensive, and we weren't sure how we could possibly mount such a contraption. Of course, it was a moot point because we couldn't find curtain rods we liked, anyway. Meanwhile, our IKEA Ritva curtains were languishing in the closet. We had picked them up back in September during the aforementioned episode in which I said I couldn't take the tyranny of mini blinds any longer. But then I had a thought. Would copper pipes work? A quick internet search showed that it had indeed been done before.

After cajoling Richy a bit, we rushed to Home Depot. Even in the aisles he remained skeptical. The pipe looked too shiny. He hated the curtain rod holders. I may have asked him if he has ever seen a curtain rod holder that he's liked. He worried the pipe would bow in the middle. And so on and so forth until we were finally able to assemble our mise en place. Richy seemed to think that the entire project was under-planned, but at this point, we really just had to get stuff on the wall and experiment with trial-and-error.


15 feet of 1/2-inch diameter copper pipe
A laser leveler and stud finder
3 curtain rod brackets
A pipe cutter
2 elbow fittings
2 caps
A ruler

All together, it cost less than $40, which I consider a triumph of thrift and economy (thankfully we already had the leveler!). Our first step was to mount the brackets. We hoped we could get away with three of them, but after we put the pipe in place, we found that that we needed four: one on each end and two on the long back wall. With just one bracket in the middle, the corners got all cattywompus and begged for more support. (At that point, Richy nearly lost all hope).


After that, we did a lot of measuring and cut the pipe, which was strangely rewarding. Something about turning the little pipe cutter around and around and then finally hearing a snap was very satisfying.


And then the moment of truth: will the pipe fit? Will it not fit? Honestly, we had to do some adjusting, but FINALLY we were rewarded with curtain rods. Curtain rods that are not tacky with nary a finial in sight. We're also excited about the way that the copper will change with time, eventually oxidizing and developing a patina. By using the elbow joints, we're able to curve the curtains around the corner a bit, which makes the curtain feel less disjointed, almost cocoon-like. We have one panel on each short wall and two panels on the long wall, with the center panels wrapped around each corner.




Our bedroom now feels so much more like home. The light in the morning is a warm glow. It's almost enough to get us out of bed. Of course, now the windows in our living room are beginning to feel a little bare. Do we have the energy for another window treatment project?

plenty by yotam ottolenghi

Plenty has probably been the most talked-about vegetarian cookbook in years. For those of you who haven't heard of it, Yotam Ottolenghi owns a collection of prepared-food shops in London where he sells a selection of highly-regarded vegetable dishes (but also meats). The Guardian asked him to write a series of recipes in a column called "The New Vegetarian," which he was reluctant to do, as he is not, in fact, a vegetarian. But he did it anyway. A few people complained that meat-eating barbarians were invading the sacred turf of vegetarian culture, but mostly people were impressed by the recipes, which were collected in Plenty.

The general theme of the book seems to be herbs and spices and lots of them. They're everywhere! It's not atypical for a recipe to call for more than three different fresh herbs and a few spices as well. Obviously, this can make meals costly if you don't have an herb garden. (A lack of soil has prevented us from planting one, but if we had a yard, I assure you it would be overflowing with basil, parsley, thyme, and the like). I've managed to reduce the financial impact by making a whole slew of recipes that involve the same herbs, or by substituting them like crazy. Often, I can't even find the right herbs at Whole Foods, anyway. (Chervil? I know I've seen it somewhere before, but when?).


Nonetheless, I've been immensely happy with several of the dishes, particularly his shakshuka and green bean salad, which I happened to serve at the same dinner party. Generally, shakshuka, or "eggs in purgatory," is an Israeli dish of eggs poached in spicy tomato sauce. But Plenty instructs you to add fresh parsley, thyme, cilantro, bay leaves, and saffron. Instead of hot peppers, you use red and yellow bell peppers with a bit of sugar, making the whole thing a bit more sweet than spicy. Regardless, the final product is delicious, though I've made a few tweaks.

Shakshuka
3/4 tsp whole cumin seeds
1/2 cup light olive oil
2 large onions, sliced
2 red bell peppers, cut into 3/4 inch strips
2 yellow bell peppers, cut the same
4 tsp sugar (the book asks for muscovado, but white sugar will do)
2 bay leaves
8 thyme springs, leaves picked and chopped
2 tbsp chopped parsley
2 tbsp chopped cilantro, plus extra to garnish
1 28-oz can san marzano tomatoes, drained and chopped
1/2 tsp saffron threads (optional)
1/4 tsp cayenne
salt, pepper
up to 1 1/8 cup water
8 eggs

1. In a very large saute pan, roast the cumin seeds in a dry pan over medium-high heat until they begin to become fragrant, about 2 minutes.

2. Add the oil. When shimmering, add the onions and saute for 5 minutes, or until softened but not yet browned. (From what I can tell, traditional shakshuka would have you add garlic at this point, and I was tempted to do so, but the flavor is actually more delicate and nuanced without it).

3. Add the peppers, sugar, thyme, parsley, bay leaves, and cilantro, and continue to cook on high heat for 5 to 10 minutes until you get a bit of browning.

4. Add the tomatoes, saffron, cayenne, salt and pepper. Reduce heat to low and cook for 15 minutes. Watch closely, adding water as necessary to keep a pasta-sauce consistency. Taste to adjust seasoning. The sauce can be set aside at this point. Since the recipe makes a large batch, you could freeze half of it and save the rest for later. I found that the flavors improved greatly overnight.

5. Remove bay leaves and reduce heat to medium. Make wells in the sauce, making room for the eggs, which should be dropped directly into the pan with care, so as not to break the yolk. Sprinkle each egg with salt, cover, and cook on very gentle heat for 8-10 minutes, or until the eggs are just set. I prefer it with the yolks on the runny side. Sprinkle with cilantro and serve with crusty bread.

This is great at dinner or brunch. In fact, it kind of blew me away. I promise to follow up with the green bean salad recipe soon!

reupholstering a vintage lounge chair

If you read Apartment Therapy, you’ve probably seen their scavenger posts. You know, the section where they showcase cool stuff from craigslist? Except that the stuff for sale in Boston is usually terrible. Really awful. Maybe an old dinged filing cabinet or lacquered 80s furniture. It's not Apartment Therapy's fault. Boston craigslist is just really depressing, as if most of the furniture came from an Allston frat house. Sometimes, however, you find a gem.


Right after we moved, we were checking craiglist obsessively with a fervor that nearly matched our apartment search mania. And then we saw it. Well, Chris saw it first, but Richy claims to have seen it earlier without remarking upon it. We may never know exactly how it slipped into our consciousness, but we’re glad that it did. We had been thinking about splurging for a Selig Z-chair, but we had very little hope that we would ever find an affordable one.


We feel like the chair we found has a similar, but more organic aesthetic. We haven’t been able to find any information on it; there is no identifying information anywhere to be found. We think it’s made of teak, and the seller thinks it was Danish, though no one can say for certain. We’ve come to love the gently curved armrest and low profile of the chair. It’s also extremely comfortable but can be difficult to climb out of as it’s so low to the ground. The only problem was the original fabric, which was cheap, synthetic, and rapidly decaying.


Thankfully, Richy has several yards of high-end upholstery fabric tucked into his little craft closet from the days he worked in the textile industry. Richy wanted to add a bit of warmth, and so we chose a beautiful fabric from Place Textiles which combines a finely spun linen yarn with a soft cotton chenille.


The fabric gets its name from the Sonoma Valley landscape that it resembles. Richy re-covered the whole chair, piping and all. (And sewing piping for the first time was quite a challenge!). Previously when reupholstering furniture, Richy tended to rip open the old upholstery to use it as a pattern for the new one. But he was hesitant to destroy a decent, though not entirely stylish, original cover. Since the pattern contained only five separate pieces (all of which were simple squares or rectangles), he decided to try his hand at creating the cover from scratch.


Richy carefully measured each piece from the old cover, added seam allowance, and cut those pieces in the new fabric. Construction was going swimmingly until he realized he would need to get all the stripes to line up together at the seams.


Finally, Richy settled on hand basting the entire thing, and he is so glad he did. Richy loves sewing on his vintage Singer 201-2; he especially appreciates the quiet hum of the machine as it gracefully sews through yards and yards of fabric. But he was surprised at out how peaceful he felt hand sewing. It brought him back to when he was too young to use a machine and his grandpa taught him by hand. And the end result was definitely worth the effort.


We really love the inviting feel that the new cushions add to the piece. The fabric itself is quite soft, and the raised stripes that were difficult to sew were actually perfect for adding subtle visual interest. But what we love most about our chair is the story behind it. In an age when most of us head to Ikea for furniture, it's nice to have something more personal. And while we both love Ikea, the furniture always feels temporary; it's the furniture you buy while you're waiting until you can afford what you really want. We're really proud of ourselves for putting this look together for less than the cost of an Ikea KARLSTAD. We hope this successful tale of thrift and craft inspires you and demonstrates that you don't have to be wealthy to have your real furniture, the kind you will own for the rest of your life and tell stories about for years.

apple and squash risotto

At last, decorative gourd season is upon us. Our farm share is now overflowing with squash, apples, and good, honest root vegetables like carrots. I love squash as much as the next guy, but man, it's a lot of work. The peeling, the chopping, the long cooking times; it's not a vegetable for 30 minute meals. It's more of a weekend project than an after-work dalliance. But squash deserves more than your brief attention, anyway.

I've tried squash in many different risotti over the years, but I think this one is the best. In the past, I haven't roasted it before adding it to the rice, and it hasn't developed as much flavor as it should. But squash rewards time and effort. Unlike the tomato, which is hardly ever improved by cooking, squash will thank you for your ministrations.

In other risotto news, I may have changed my mind on risotto rice yet again. At first, I used arborio, because it was the most available. Then I switched my allegiance to carnaroli, but it seems like Whole Foods may have stopped carrying it. This time, when I stopped at Shaw's to pick up arborio, they wanted $8 for two pounds, which may be the most expensive rice I have ever seen. I couldn't make myself do it, so I went to Whole Foods, where arborio is about $3/lb. However, someone in the rice section suggested I try calrose, at a mere $1.50/lb. I decided to give it a try, and the results aren't awful. It's not quite as good as carnaroli, but it may be a slight improvement over arborio. I may be heretical to say this, but sometimes arborio can be too starchy, and the grains lose all of their definition. While the calrose wasn't quite as creamy as I would like, I think it's a great substitute if you can't find the other varieties. I'm not giving up on carnaroli, however. I just need a new source. (I'm considering ordering 12 pounds of it on Amazon, but that seems like a lot of rice to store in a small kitchen).

Apple and Squash Risotto
1 large tart apple, cubed
1 (3-lb) butternut squash
1 onion, chopped
4 tablespoons olive oil (divided)
2 tablespoons butter (divided)
1/2 cup freshly grated parmigiano reggiano
1 teaspoon fresh rosemary or thyme, finely chopped
salt, pepper
1 cup white wine
1.5 cups rice (arborio, carnaroli, or calrose)
6 cups vegetable stock

1. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Peel the squash, remove the seeds, and slice it about 1/2" thick. Lay the slices on a cookie sheet, and use your hands to coat the slices with about two tablespoons of olive oil and a few pinches of salt. Spread the slices in a single layer and place bits of butter (about a tablespoon in total) between the squash pieces. Roast for about 30 minutes, flipping half way through, until browned on both sides. Once it has cooled, cube the squash and set aside.


(A note about this photo: it turns out the environmentally-friendly CFL bulbs we used are HORRIBLE for food photography. We've since reverted to standard bulbs and have been happier with the results).

2. Bring 6 cups of vegetable stock to a slow simmer in a saucepan. In a large, heavy bottomed pot, saute the onion and rosemary over medium heat in a tablespoon of butter and 2 tablespoons of olive oil. Once softened, add the apples and rice. Stir to coat with oil.

3. Add a cup of white wine and simmer until reduced by half. Add vegetable broth, a ladle at a time, stirring occasionally to keep rice from sticking to the bottom of the pan. Once you've used most of your broth (it should take about 20 minutes), start tasting the rice for doneness. It should be soft on the outside, but retain a bit of a bite in the center. I always prefer my risotto to be a bit soupy, so it oozes deliciously across the plate, so keep that in mind as well. When nearly done, add the cubed squash.

4. Remove risotto from the heat. Stir in about 1/4 cup of cheese and add salt and a tablespoon or two of butter if necessary. Once plated, add more grated cheese.