I feel a bit guilty posting this on Christmas, but since it was my mother's Christmas gift and she's one of only two people who actually read this blog, I'm afraid there wasn't much of a choice. Besides. You're probably wondering what the heck to do with all those candy canes, you know, the ones people at work passed out, or attached to gift bags, the ones your children brought home from school, the ones hanging on your tree. Best part, if you make it after Christmas, you may not even have to share.
Even Dexter thinks so.
'Tis the season to be baking. Somehow, even with all our cookie baking, many of us still find that we're expected to produce additional seasonal baked goods. We have holiday gatherings at work, family gatherings, open houses. This cake is both seasonal and fairly easy. As an added bonus, you probably already have the ingredients in the house.
Oh. Sorry. The above picture is very much NOT something edible. It's what happens when you take one completely adorable snow-loving dog for a walk in the midst of a winter storm. He gets so cute that he turns into a stuffed animal.
Allow to harden. You can allow it to harden in the fridge. If you did the process correctly, you've tempered your chocolate which will keep it from getting to melty at room temperature and from coming off all over your hands. The refrigeration only speeds up the hardening, but you should be able to leave the bark out after that. If you mess up, no big deal. It still tastes good, you'll just have to lick your fingers more.
We're not actually snowbound. Clearly I left the apartment to take this picture, but it has been snowing for over 12 hours with no real sign that it will let up soon. I spent the day completely delighted with the weather and making all kinds of Christmas sweets. It's a bit evil, but living here allows us to relax and maybe even gloat a bit because we don't have any outdoor snow clearing responsibilities. But this recipe is so easy that you'd be able to make it even if you're exhausted from shoveling. Don't you deserve a nice warm fresh loaf of bread after all that work?
BEER BREAD
salad topping:
It's been a week, and I'm still reeling from Thanksgiving. First there's the marathon cooking sessions leading up to the big day (which thankfully, I was spared this year because my mother did just about everything herself), then there's the mad dash to eat, freeze and reinvent all the leftovers before anything spoils. And of course, the rush to post it all here before I forget what the hell it is I'm talking about.
Pour off some of the duck fat*. Emeril doesn't mention this, but I'd rather not have any oven fires, so I drain probably three-quarters of what's in the pan. I drain into a metal mixing bowl just because it's so darn hot and I'm afraid glass would crack and plastic would melt. Once you've flipped the ducks and poured off some fat, place the pan in the hot oven for an additional 8-10 minutes. You can use a meat thermometer to check for doneness if you worry about that sort of thing, the final temperature you want is 120 F. Remember the duck will come up a few degrees while it rests so you can pull it around 110 F. When you remove the duck from the oven, cover it and let it sit for 2-3 minutes. Mine was still giving off quite a bit of juice after that time, so it really does need to sit. Slice it on the bias into quarter inch slices. Feel very gourmet and impressive indeed.
My Life in France is enough to motivate me. And if the great Julia Child isn't enough to get you cooking, you're probably a lost cause. So I apologize for the lack of apple cookies, and hope to be back tomorrow, perhaps with a duck recipe, the apple cookies or perhaps just a list of books to make you drool slightly when you are unable to leave the couch for the kitchen.
Not so very long ago, I had a delicious sandwich at a local restaurant, which I refuse to link to for many reasons, but mainly because they keep removing things I love from their menu and then charging more for the crap they still serve that I don't want. They've already done away with nachos and mac and cheese, so I shouldn't have been shocked when I realized they also scrapped my new favorite sandwich ever. Yes, I know I have a new favorite sandwich ever each month. Let's move on. Anyway. I'm loathe to give those people my money anyway, so it's just as well. My latest greatest sandwich is so very good, and its star ingredient is fig jam. It's also very versatile, I've had it three different ways, all heavenly. The only bad news, is there's not so much a recipe as a set of instructions. You need fig jam (obviously), crusty french bread (although not a baguette, the kind that gives you sandwich size slices), fresh mozzarella (yes, it must be fresh), balsamic vinegar and olive oil. Those are the key ingredients. The ones you can rotate in and out include cooked slices of chicken, prosciutto, spinach and arugula. The bread will absorb the delicious butter from your pan, the mozzarella will be creamy, the fig jam will be sweet and the balsamic will balance that sweetness with a hint of acid. You can choose to add other ingredients, or omit them depending on what you have in the house, or what you're in the mood for.
There are some things that I only love when they're Southern style. Since it's probably best not to get me started on the topic of iced tea, as I may begin to rant, we can stick to cornbread. Like many good Southern foods cornbread must be a bit sweet. It should also be nice and fluffy. Think...delicious smells wafting from the grill, plates filled with barbecue, people sipping down real iced tea. Bad cornbread however, creates an entirely different scene...squatting by a fire, using a stick to pry a dry mass out of a cast iron pan. In short, I want to feel like I'm at a party, not trying to survive the Oregon trail. 
Everyone despairs when at the mercy of a repair or delivery person*. You are instructed, in no uncertain terms that you must remain in your home between certain specified hours, which are always representing an unfathomable window of time. Moreover, the moment the clock clicks over to the first minute of your designated window, you are seized with the urge to be anywhere but at home. You remember a million errands you have to run. The dog barks for a walk. You realize you have to shower, but can't, because you won't hear the phone, or doorbell, or you will hear the phone and doorbell and be forced to meet the repair/delivery person in nothing but a towel. It is not good. So here is my handy dandy plan for not going stir-crazy.
The thing is, there's not a whole lot more delicious than good home fried chicken. The crunch of the crispy crust, the mix of spices, the juicy succulent chicken. Oh dear, it's good. All you need is a foolproof recipe, and I've got one for you. I had never before fried a chicken. I hadn't even watched someone else fry a chicken. This worked perfectly, on the first try, and I have to say, was just as mouth-wateringly scrumptious cold the next day as it was hot when I served it. Labor Day's coming, maybe this is the year to do a good old southern feast instead of those hot dogs you'd planned on.
My very first Hippo and Nigella post. I'll admit, I didn't select this recipe because it spoke to me more than the others. It was a very practical choice. First, it didn't require self-rising cake flour. Additionally, I had raspberries that needed using. They were good. Not great, not I can't wait until I make these again. Just good. I think they need more lemon. Maybe a lemon glaze? They're definitely worth experimenting with. And for the raspberry haters out there, you might consider blueberries instead. Also, this is the very first time I used my silcone baking cups. They are reusable, and they don't take half your muffin with them when you peel them off. What's not to like?
When I was a little girl, my father used to travel for business. Not all the time, but sometimes. When he went away, my mother would not cook. I don't blame her. She cooked amazing meals whenever he was home, she deserved the break. At night, Daddy would call to check in on us and he'd always ask me if we ate our vegetables. My mother would be standing across from me nodding yes, regardless of what we'd had for dinner. When we hung up, she'd say "tomato sauce is a vegetable" or "the broccoli in the chicken with broccoli counts." I grew up just like my mother. I eat my vegetables. I do. But my husband is the one always checking, always asking, always making sure that I eat them.
These delicious honey chocolate crisps are possibly exactly what Winnie the Pooh would like if invited to tea. They are chewy, sweet without being too cloying and have just the right amount of chocolate. Elegant enough for adult parties, but simple enough to be a smackerel for any small person's tea party you might need to organize. But beware, you're likely to find you have to share, with friends, housemates, or small yellow bears.
