Let's Have Dessert

For starters, I've missed you.

This past year was a big one.  Bigger than I can even wrap my mind, or my arms, fully around.  A quick review: I left DC, helped get my sister married off, moved to a farm in the middle-of-nowhere Northern CA for almost 7 months, road-tripped to Portland, Oregon, road-tripped back home to AZ, and here I am.  Phew.

I thought I was going to move to a coastal place, maybe San Francisco, when I left my beloved DC.  Instead, I have curiously found myself back in the Phoenix area, with skies like this one on the regular:

It's a funny thing, being home...like slipping into your favorite worn-in sweater and wanting to wear it forever.

One of the things I've had some time to do again is cook.  Not much, but a little, and it's a nice start.  For example, we had a game night with stir-fry, wine, Cards Against Humanity, and these Honey-Ricotta Turnovers for dessert.  I could've had four of them, but I consoled myself with two and a bite out of my neighbor's.

The recipe's not too hard, a little messy, but perfectly decadent with crunchy phyllo dough on the outside and creamy-sweet ricotta (with blackberries!) on the inside.

After these turnovers, I'm fully ready to embrace this new year with all of it's dreamy possibilities and unexpected surprises.  Let's do this, 2014!

Like A Child

There’s something deliciously comforting in re-creating treats from your childhood.  It’s better than a flashback; it’s more like a rediscovery of memories, of delights, of possibility.  For just a few seconds you glimpse your dreams from long ago, and instead of looking at them with that horrible adult eye of logistics and reasoning and numbers, you simply delight in your hopes.  You dream far and wide and look forward with excitement rather than planning and worry.  While gobbling up something familiar yet new, it’s better than before because it’s slightly more sophisticated, maybe a bit healthier, and it actually seems possible to move forward through your adult days with that restored wisdom of childhood.  

At least, all of that seems possible after a batch of Strawberry Rhubarb Poptarts. 

I got strawberries and rhubarb from the market.  Again, Kim Boyce’s rustic rye tarts went out the window and I instead scrambled to find a recipe for poptarts.  My favorite kind growing up were the brown sugar variety… the strawberry ones seemed too fake and chemically flavored to entice me enough to toast them  up before school.  Yet here I stand, Strawberry (with rhubarb! At least!) poptart in hand and damn if I’m not a little bit in love.

I couldn’t find an ideal recipe, no matter how I tried. So, I smooshed a couple together and got something pretty wonderful. For the dough I went off Smitten Kitchen’s poptart guide, though I used all-purpose, whole wheat, and rye flours (which I have completely fallen in love with, by the by. So creamy! So dreamy! Oh, rye.) I also couldn’t find a strawberry rhubarb jam that seemed just right…so, inspired as I was by a baked rhubarb/strawberry dish in this month’s Bon Appetit, I turned it into a jam instead (also, it has bourbon. Ahem.)

From one of my favorite movies, "Stranger Than Fiction."  This is when Will Ferrell brings Maggie Gyllenhaal "flours."  I'm officially on my way to multi-flour Gyllenhaal glory.

I will say that a measure of a dish's success is based almost exclusively on how fast it disappears.  Since I brought the poptarts to my dear friend Lina's housewarming party, (also known as L-Diddy, also known as my Indian Sister...and congrats again on the new marriage and house, Chris and Lina!) where I had several strangers come up to me to rave about poptarts with loud thank you’s and hugs, so I’d say that it was a success.  These little guys are  suitable for both special occasions and everyday breakfasting, but maybe not your toaster because these puppies are oven-toasted, thankyouverymuch.

Chin up, adults.  Have a poptart and remember what you were like as a kid.  Start that dreaming again, no logistics allowed, and let’s get ready for an epic summer, shall we?