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    raw blueberry pie with microwaveable filling and graham cracker crust

    This mostly-raw blueberry pie is a snap to make and very versatile--the filling microwaves in a few minutes, and you don't even have to bake the zippy gingered graham cracker crust--perfect for a hot Fourth of July and all summer long.

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Quiche x Fillo = Yeah!

(…plus a few more cheap cheese tricks)

Cauliflower mushroom quiche wrapped in fillo pastry is crispy, elegant and light.

I had bought a packet of fillo dough a while back, in the thought that by now I’d have a couple of fun party-food ideas to suggest. But this week I’ve been feeling like I’d rather make and serve something nonsweet, nonfussy and not heavy–an easy main dish for summer, lighter and more serious at the same time, and something that could last more than one meal and reheat quickly.

This vegetable-filled quiche is a flexible dairy main dish with a Mediterranean vibe thanks to its fillo crust. It looks a little fancier than an ordinary quiche, but it’s not actually difficult to put together, and it’s also not a heart attack on a plate.

The only trick, other than needing to bake it in a conventional oven rather than attempting the microwave (so don’t do it during the heat of the day), is to control the temperature and moisture so you get the egg and cheese filling to cook through without letting the fillo casing scorch or, possibly worse, get soggy. It stores well in the fridge for next-day dinners, and you can reheat and recrisp individual pieces quickly in the toaster oven, especially if you microwave first for half a minute on an open plate just to warm them through, then slide onto foil and toast a few minutes at a baking temperature slightly below full-stun toasting so you don’t scorch the tops.

I’ve made two versions of this by winging it, essentially, and it’s worked nicely both times. The first was an open-faced spinach and ricotta fillo tart that went well at a Chanukah party back in December, and it led me to this second riff, a cauliflower-mushroom-smoked cheese filling, this time sandwiched between top and bottom fillo layers.

Before I get into the recipe and tips for working with fillo specifically, let’s talk a little about flexibility by highlighting one of my hobbies, getting cheap with cheese:

Continue reading

Irish Soda Bread, Lighter on the Soda

Irish soda bread with slice

Irish soda bread has a reputation—it’s quick and easy and yet rustic, but can be a bit rough on your stomach and supposedly goes heavy and rocklike within a day. Most people blame the whole wheat or the lack of yeast. I blame the soda.

This kind of quick bread was probably intended to be baked alongside the supper roast or casserole and eaten up at that meal—the loaves aren’t huge and there would probably be no leftovers to speak of. Time is of the essence when you’re making dinner for a hungry working family, and typical recipes I find call for a large tablespoon or more of baking soda for only two or three cups of flour. Then they cover the metallic/salt/soap flavor of the bicarbonate with extra spoonfuls of salt. The result is a high-sodium loaf that’s bound to irritate your stomach lining somewhat, even while fresh, and then will almost certainly end up pretty dry and hard, like the stereotypical box-mix Passover cakes, if you let it sit out at all.

I’m actually not sure whether the baking soda levels in today’s recipes are the same as or more exaggerated than classic ones. But considering some of the vintage recipes for similar quick breads, muffins, scones etc., from the 1930s or so, I suspect that the cheapness and novelty of baking soda and baking powder, which could replace eggs as well as yeast, made some of the recipe developers of the day more enthusiastic than they needed to be. Except, of course, if they were developing recipes for Arm&Hammer, Calumet or other brands…

Does it really need all that chemical leavening just to rise? As with tea breads, scones, and quick-mix oil- or applesauce-based cake layers, I find you can get away with a lot less than most recipes call for.  Half a teaspoon of baking soda is enough for two cups (8 oz. or 240 g by weight) of flour and the rise is just fine as long as you don’t wait around before sticking the mixed dough in the oven, and you have included an acidic ingredient like yogurt, buttermilk or vinegar to activate it. Then you don’t have to compensate the taste with excess salt either. The acidic ingredients and any dairy will tenderize the crumb as well.

In any case, these problems are easy to solve without doing your head in or spending a lot of cash on specific ingredients, because the beauty of Irish soda bread is its great adaptability to what you have on hand.

This is the adaptation I made a few times in March and April of 2020, when yeast was suddenly, inexplicably, sold out in the grocery stores, eggs were scarce and flour was being snatched off the shelves too.

Continue reading

Last-minute Thanksgiving 2021

Good reasonably fast bread makes for a better cheese plate–so I tell myself…

I’m always, always late to the table, I know it. Yes, it is sort of too late to do much more than give you the link to my Slow Food Fast Thanksgiving guide from a few years ago plus the few new ones from last year, and recommend “Thanksgiving” in the search box if you’re stuck for microwaveable but good ideas.

Last year was the first on-our-own-but-Zooming-it Thanksgiving and this is our second, and Chanukah starts Sunday evening. Maybe I’ll have something exciting and original by then.

Despite all that, I do have a few things I’ve been meaning to share but haven’t had time to post. The past few months seem to have sped up on me because my daughter’s aiming to graduate early this year, and because I’ve been helping host the still mostly-online Jewish Book Festival for our region and that means interviewing authors–some really eminent ones–for our local Federation magazine and moderating online for two of the events. So my “skill set,” both technical and staging, has had to rev up in a big way…

But Thanksgiving…I am doing most or at least some of the same menu I put together for “just us” last year–artichokes in the microwave, wild rice pilaf, salmon, broccoli, salad, pumpkin pie, cranberry sauce, and maybe some mushroom caps. All of it is good and almost all, everything but the salad, is microwaveable at least for part of it, and there will be good leftovers for lunch this weekend. So–not much new.

The things I did last year that I didn’t manage to post include a relatively quick whole wheat olive-rosemary faux-sourdough bread, which came out really well and I’m doing again, and the cheese plate à deux that manages to be interesting without breaking the bank…

These things may not come in time for today, depending where you are and how impatient or well-stocked, but they could come in handy in the next few weeks.

Whole wheat rapid faux sourdough with mix-ins

I usually keep a bowl of dough in the fridge for things like pita and calzone and it lasts me about a week. I’ve done proper sourdough rye and kornbroyt with medium success, and a yogurt-based 3-hour “faux” sourdough that wasn’t too bad, but lately I’ve decided that I can get a decent mildly sourdough flavor simpler and nondairy by just stirring a capful of apple cider vinegar into the flour as I’m making a regular yeast dough.

For this whole wheat bread, I’m doing a smaller ball of dough than my usual salad bowl worth–I want it quicker and it’s really just for this, so. I took a chunk of the regular dough since I had some in the fridge, maybe a heaping tablespoon or so, softened and pulled it apart with a fork in half a cup of warm water, sprinkled on about a cup each of whole wheat and regular bread/AP flour, less than half a teaspoon of salt, and a small capful of cider vinegar, and started stirring. I heated up another half a coffee mug of water a few seconds in the microwave, just to “finger-warm,” and added just enough to the bowl to get it to make a reasonable dough, kneaded it until smooth, drizzled on olive oil, covered the bowl and set it in a colander over a stockpot filled with hot tap water–and put a lid over it to shut out light. Hopefully it’s rising as we speak.

Olive rosemary bread in progress, as of Thanksgiving 2020–from the outcome, I’d say at least double the olives and throw in some chopped walnuts as well to get a more generous, nicer-looking distribution.

You can go a couple of different ways with mix-ins. Last year I chopped some Greek olives and minced a sprig or two of rosemary from the bush in the backyard, and when the dough was risen, I rolled it out into a rectangle and sprinkled everything on, rolled it up, let it rise again covered for 40 minutes or so while I heated the oven to 420F, and then threw a mugful of water into the oven and baked the bread for about an hour–it was a bigger loaf than I’m doing today, so I expect this one to take less time.

This year I’ll probably do the same but throw in a few chopped walnuts and maybe hot-soaked raisins as well. You could do raisins instead of olives if you prefer, nuts or no nuts, or just rosemary and thyme or sage if you want an herb bread.

Cheese plate with slight microwave assist (because, of course…)

The Ralph’s/Kroger in my neighborhood put in a fancy cheese counter two years ago, trying to rival Whole Foods and more or less doing a decent job of it. The Ralph’s cheeses are all stocked by Murray’s, which is headquartered in (I think?) the Hudson Valley in New York.

Now, that of course doesn’t sound incredibly affordable and the regular prices aren’t terrible but they’re still $10-25 a pound, which is a lot. However, the cheese counter always has a few “under $5” baskets out to attract those of us who don’t have champagne budgets or big parties to stock but are still sort of cheese freakish.

$20 cheese plate! Notes: 1. The Stepladder Creamery wedge, at $7, is the most expensive one here and full price; it’s still relatively inexpensive, wonderful and flavorful even in slivers, and produced by the dairy where my niece is a goat herd manager up near San Simeon. The other wedges are all over 5 ounces–the Ralph’s/Kroger/Murray’s Cheeses goat cheddar with vegetarian rennet at the lower left, contrary to what the upside down label says, is actually over 9 ounces, not the “0.22 lb” (3.5 oz) on the label. The full prices for the other two from Trader Joe’s: 3.60 for 5 ounces of stilton; 4.66 for 8 ounces of camembert, both vegetarian rennet.

And sometimes they’re actually big wedges, 6-8 ounces, that are nearing their sell-by date, or maybe they’re just not moving, so they discount and you can get a major bargain on things like Humboldt Fog or Cambozola, a stilton, or an aged goatsmilk cheddar or asiago-style cheese like Ewephoria. (Of course, occasionally you can find seriously discounted Limburger going for 75 cents a tightly-wrapped chunk, because they really, really want you to take it off their hands).

Continue reading

Bring us a better world this year, 5782

unbaked round challah for Rosh Hashanah with three "doves" made from dough scraps and raisin eyes
When you bake, you hope for the best, but you don’t know exactly what you’ll get.

Sometimes your doves turn your challah into seaturtles…

We have one world–vast imagination, but only one world.

May you be written for a good and sweet New Year

לשנה טובה ומתוקה תכתיבו

A Lighter Take on Coconut Macaroons

Not really macaroons–or even macarons. These are basically coconut-almond meringues.

Newsflash: I didn’t buy any macaroons this year for Passover. They’re…ok, in very limited quantities, preferably with actual fruit to lighten things up. But they’re so heavy and doughy and overly, throat-burningly sweet, and the cans from the major manufacturers–Manischewitz, Gefen, etc. etc.–all basically taste identical. Worse, they’re designed to feed a whole seder table with in-laws and more in a regular year. This year, with only two 3-D people at our table and not kibbitzing on Zoom, they would just hang around the table all week whether you really want any more or not.

I have made my own coconut macaroons once or twice before, and they came out lighter and better and different, not so packed-down. So this evening before supper I decided to try again. I needed something desserty and light and slightly impressive, at least to myself.

Why? Why in mid-Passover? Because.

Because I signed up for a COVID vaccine today. It’s April 1st, the first day I’ve become eligible in California…and within minutes, my HMO assigned me a slot for tomorrow. Tomorrow! My first reaction was “Ack! Tomorrow?! Wait, I just clicked to see what was listed on that date… I was hoping maybe next week or so, to give me a chance to get used to the idea!”

…I know perfectly well that I am lucky not to have to scramble for a shot, and that there is no real alternative if we want to get through this pandemic and end it. I also know perfectly well that I’m less nervous and more adamant about much less effective vaccines like the annual flu shot. Anything that’s 90+ percent effective is almost unheard-of and nearly a miracle. But a few minutes to get used to the idea would really help…well, I decided, that could start right after hocking my husband to get on and sign up quickly before all of next week’s spots get snatched up. And he did.

So once I calmed down again, because I knew I was being more apprehensive than the situation deserved, I decided to calm down further by trying to make something just tricky enough to keep me focused and not thinking about the shot. Also something that wouldn’t make huge amounts or take a lot of time.

And here’s what came of it–better than I expected. These lightened-up coconut…you can’t really call them macaroons. They’re closer to “macarons,” only with coconut instead of almond meal. Basically, coconut meringues.

Actually, I’ve seen an awful lot of meringues on Passover recipe rosters this year–pavlovas, coffee-tinged meringues, berry swirl meringues, plain ones…all kinds.

But I didn’t really think this was going to be one of them. The first time I made this kind of recipe, it came out like a slightly lighter, sweet-but-not-achingly-sweet version of a coconut macaroon with toasted almond chunks embedded in it. Pretty good, but it turned out tricky to reproduce. The last time I tried it, something weird happened when I folded the coconut into the beaten egg whites and they collapsed. I think it’s because I tried to rehydrate the coconut shreds before adding them. Or maybe I added the sugar all at once and then tried to beat it. Not certain…see, though, this is why this project was going to be slightly tricky and keep me occupied.

Continue reading

Zwetchgenkuchen: a lighter holiday plum tart

Zwetchgenkuchen or plum pie with almond filling

In spite of the recent weather snarling Thanksgiving traffic a few weeks ago and the upcoming winter holidays this week (Oy! Chanukah starts tonight! gotta get candles!), we still have plums in the market in southern California even now that it’s late December. Which adds a strange twist to the dessert I was going to post about belatedly, because I realize that’s probably not true in the rest of the country, so what now?

I first meant to post this recipe for a svelter pastry way back in October, on the heels of the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah, when plums are usually in season.

Zwetchgen, sometimes spelled zwetchken, or “quetches” in French, (could this possibly be the origin of the famed Yiddish word “kvetch”?–probably not, but it’s fun to think about it) are the elongated, blue-black Italian prune plums, which were in at my local Armenian corner grocery in September-October, along with the divine yellow-green sweet plums for eating raw. Unfortunately, most standard supermarket chains in the US don’t sell either fresh prunes or the yellow-green kind of plum in their produce sections, to say nothing of dinosaur plums (green and brown speckled outsides, variously pink and yellow insides, telltale dinosaur logo on the sticker) or Santa Rosa plums (pinkish-red outside, deep rose-pink insides), so it’s a good argument for seeking out your local mom-and-pop ethnic corner grocers wherever possible.

But my lightened-up method for a plum tart is still pretty adaptable to other fruits you probably do have–apples, pears, thickened berry jams or canned cherry filling, mincemeat,  or even, dare I suggest, canned pumpkin? (green tomatoes? even rarer than plums unless you garden, like my in-laws.)

So it’s not that you absolutely must have plums (only for a plum tart, it’s kind of required) nor that you should do the (nearly) unthinkable for a plum tart and use dried prunes somehow. Which, I promise, I am not doing here. Well, maybe they’d work in mincemeat, preferably a vegetarian version with no suet involved. Actually, someone back in the old days of the nursery rhyme probably was using prunes and it understandably fell out of favor when fresh fruits became available more widely during the winter months. Or when some bright young thing started selling premade mincemeat filling in jars…

This lightened-up European-style tart for a holiday or other party tastes good, makes the most of end-of-season fruit, and isn’t overwhelmingly rich or oversweetened. It’s got a thin, delicate crust, an almond filling, and tart, substantial wedges of fruit. The almond extract or amaretto (or you could use rum or brandy or kirsch, or orange liqueur, or orange blossom water if you’re going nonalcoholic) gives it something most American desserts these days sorely lack–not the alcohol, which quickly bakes out, but a depth and complexity of flavor that don’t depend on sugar or butter. Continue reading

Three-Hour Sourdough

Three Hour Sourdough

I love sourdough–eating it, anyway. Baking? That’s enough of a challenge that I’m elated when it turns out relatively edible. Because even with my standards, which are a bit loose, there are times when the outcome is decidedly not up to expectations. I have trouble getting the dough risen well enough and into the oven before the acid chews up all the gluten. In other words, it tends to overproof and then flop. Few of my loaves–I can face it–have ended up risen enough to consider serving other people, and most of them are a bit coarse inside–partly because I want rye or whole wheat rather than just white bread.

The other challenge is the perennial one for sourdough cultures–it takes several days to build a decent-tasting and stable mix of flour, water, wild yeast and lactobacillus culture with no undesirable bugs or off-flavors and odors. And in the meantime most instructions tell you to take a small bit of the mixture, feed it fresh water and flour, and toss the majority. Wasteful–both of ingredients and time.

So for the past year or so I’ve wondered whether I couldn’t somehow just get a running start past all that by using commercial yeast (a big no-no according to sourdough experts) with some commercial lactobacillus culture–yogurt, maybe?–and flat-out cheating. As in, faux dough. Well, more precisely, perfectly real dough, with a real-enough sourdough taste and texture, only about 4 2/3 days faster. At least. Without just caving and paying 6 bucks at Whole Foods for a small decorator loaf.

Yesterday I wondered it strongly enough to hunt around online and see if the yogurt idea had occurred to anyone else–and it had.

Ladyandpups.com is the food blog of a sometimes cranky, sometimes poetic, impressively prolific and creative baker named Mandy Lee. She has a “fraudulent easy sourdough” recipe that uses more than a cup of plain yogurt with a small amount of yeast and 3.5 cups of bread flour–no added water, apparently–and some salt for a firm dough that rises either 18 hours at room temperature (1/4 t active dry yeast) or 6 hours (3/4 t. yeast) and comes out tasting right and looking beautiful and crackle-crusted via the Jim Lahey no-knead-but-preheat-the-dutch-oven method.

And that’s all to the good.

But I’m even more impatient than that, and most of my sourdough faux pas have to do with letting the dough sit too long before baking. Even a 6-hour rise seems like too much. I also wanted a whole-wheat sourdough (so half whole wheat, half bread flour), which means it’s already comparatively gluten-challenged. So I wanted a really short, sharp rise that would get the dough puffed up and bakeable before the acid got to the gluten too badly. With luck, the yeast would win out just enough to outpace the acid buildup and resulting hopeless flop, but still allow enough to develop a good tang, which is the whole point of sourdough in the first place.

That meant changing things a bit:

1. Less yogurt, only about half what Lee calls for–half would still have plenty of lactobacillus culture to reproduce, but wouldn’t contribute as much acid right up front.

2. Some water to dilute the initial acidity further to delay the inevitable gluten-chewing effect. More water also gets the dough smoother and the gluten developing more quickly even when there’s no acid-producing bacteria to worry about. That’s an added benefit since I was going whole-wheat.

3. Not too much yeast either. Normally, adding more yeast means getting a faster rise. But even 1/4 t. is about what I usually go with for a slower-rising dough with 5-6 cups of flour, and that only takes 3-4 hours to more than double in my kitchen, at least with a hot rise. I didn’t want so much extra yeast at the start that it outcompeted and inhibited the lactobacilli from the yogurt altogether, because no sour culture equals no sour flavor. Continue reading

Take two on pears

pear almond torte

When pears are good, at the peak of ripeness and aromaticity, they’re very very good, and biting into one will see the juice roll down your chin. When they’re not at their peak, or even when they’re frankly over the hill, you can still use them to advantage.

Slightly underripe pears slice thin and stay crisp in salads or on a cheese platter, something like jicama or underripe watermelon. They’re just barely sweet, not unctuous enough to upset the balance with a sharp vinaigrette or an aged cheese.

Ripe pears can substitute well in a variety of desserts for either apples (when still firm) or bananas (when very ripe, or even overripe and getting mushy).

And they lend a note of European sophistication to many desserts (and salads, and even main dishes) thanks to a dry aromatic twist to their sweetness–not exactly bitterness, more like something that plays well with the bitter notes of almonds, hazelnuts, bittersweet chocolate and dry red wine. These are flavors that don’t mesh as well with most apples due to their more overt sweetness and higher acidity, and probably not so well with bananas either due to the novocaine factor. (Although I’ve never actually tried to pair bananas with cabernet, I can just imagine it. Not promising.)

So even if you’re not a big fan of raw pears, the occasional bargain bag may be worth considering for desserts. If you can get them organic at a decent price, do, because pears are on the “dirty dozen” list for absorbing pesticides. Trader Joe’s sells bags of 6-8 small to medium (3.5-4 oz.) organic pears for about $3 at this writing. But what if, as happens occasionally, the child who insisted she wanted them instead of apples yet again has eaten two, and the rest have sat neglected in the fridge for long enough to turn?

Overripe pears don’t look very nice on the outside and may have gone bland and/or brown, but they’ve still got what it takes if you peel them and cut away actual bad spots. If they’re only a little overripe and still flavorful, use them for a sorbet or microwave them for a minute or so to turn them “micro-poached.” If they’re really soft and going brown, peel and core them, remove all the brown bits and then mash or blend them as you would ripe bananas to give body and moisture to a cake or torte.

Here are two easy microwaveable desserts that use ripe to overripe pears and are Passover-worthy but can work anytime.

microwaved pear with chocolate

Micro-Poached Pears with Chocolate

This one’s very fast and impromptu–make just one pear or a few at a time and add a little time just as needed.

It can be hard to find chocolate that’s labeled kosher for Passover. Depending on your level of observance, consult the Orthodox Union’s Passover Guide, which changes year to year but  lists brands with kosher certification or acceptability even without a mark. If you eat kitniyot (beans, legumes, corn and peas, some spices, seeds and nuts) you can probably eat most chocolate that contains soy lecithin and vanilla. If not, look for the specially marked Elite chocolate bars that are kosher certified for Passover–for the Orthodox Union in the US, it’s the regular OU symbol (a capital U in a circle) but with a capital P superscript at the right. Other kosher certification at the Orthodox level is most likely to be the Hebrew letter kaf and/or a paragraph of Hebrew text naming the certifying rabbinical authority and location, sometimes with a circular seal containing the text (usually this is if it’s an Israeli product). There may be other certified or acceptable chocolates made with vanilla beans rather than extract (or without vanilla at all) and without lecithin–some of the high-end organic brands, for example.

  • Ripe to very ripe pears
  • Dark chocolate, your preference for cocoa percentage, brand, etc.
  • optional: turbinado or regular granulated sugar, cinnamon, powdered ginger etc. for sprinkling (check the OU site if you need to; regular granulated sugar is certified as-is but brown sugars aren’t always, and ground spices need to be certified for Passover)

Wash the pears, split in half and trim out the seed core and stem threads.

Lay the halves face up on a dish or plate that can go in the microwave. Place a square of chocolate on each half about where the core was.

Microwave 1-2 minutes per pear, just until the chocolate starts to melt and bubble and the pears are tender. Sprinkle with turbinado or other sugar and spices as desired before or after microwaving.

Eat with a knife and fork–add blackberries or a dollop of yogurt on the side if you want. Let it cool a little before digging in–I’m never that good and the roof of my mouth sometimes suffers for it.

Making the best of bad pears

The second recipe is yesterday’s riff on the Banana Ginger Almond Torte (from the I can haz cake?! Passover breakfast menu scheme…) crossed with my lightened-up version of Nigella Lawson’s “Damp Apple Almond Cake.”

five overripe pearstrimmed pears

Only, obviously, I had 5 small way-overripe pears to deal with. Brownish to quite brown on the outsides. But good enough inside to yield about 1 to 1 1/2 cups of pear once they were trimmed. And the result was seriously delicious.

pear almond torte slice

Continue reading

A different take on pumpkin “spice”

It’s just past Halloween and soon to be Thanksgiving. The pumpkin bins at the Trader Joe’s will probably disappear next Tuesday morning, very convenient. The worst of it is, the only edible-grade pumpkins they sell are the little pie pumpkins. The gorgeous Cinderella’s carriage ones, a dusky pale orange-gray, are a staple of Mediterranean cooking from soups to couscous to filled fillo spirals and beyond. Even candied pumpkin as a spoon sweet. But the ones the supermarkets here sell are grown for looks only with questionable water, fertilizers and pesticides, and are presumably just for decorating your lawn and attracting rodents.

It would be so nice if they sold edible larger pumpkins like the Cinderella kind–organic ones? even in wedges, as they do in European and North African farmers’ markets. It’s a shame to see so much food potential wasted like that.

Meanwhile, Starbucks, Cinnabon and other mall favorites will no doubt be assaulting the national palate once again with an overload of nutmeg and cinnamon extracts–the gastronomic equivalent of “Rockin’ Around the Xmas Tree” and “Feliz Navidad” played endlessly over the PA system wherever you go shopping. Taste is no object.

So my grumbling has resulted in a couple of searches for pumpkin with spices that don’t threaten anyone’s latte. I’ve been cruising my ever-growing collection of Mediterranean and Near Eastern cookbooks in search of good vegetarian and vegetable dishes that I can speed up with the help of a microwave without losing flavor.

Just by starting with a microwaved butternut or other whole red squash, you can cut the roasting, peeling and chopping time and effort (and danger of self-inflicted wounds) way down. Some decent savory recipe ideas can be done with ordinary cans of plain packed pumpkin too.

Then my preference is to go savory rather than sweet. It’s more interesting, for one thing, and it’s more versatile too. Finally, I look to see if I can make some of the recipes I find faster, svelter–and preferably both.

I see little benefit to using heavy cream, full sticks of butter, and extra egg yolks for “richness,” which mostly means as bulking ingredients more than for actual flavor. My head, my heart, my doctor and my hips are all in accord with me on this one. Besides, I’m a cheese freak. In my world, you need to save up your limited saturated fat allowance for stilton or chevre or camembert–something with funk and flash and that lightningy je ne sais quoi.

My lineup of adaptations so far:

Kolokithopita

Like spanakopita triangles or fillo rolls but instead of spinach and feta, use cooked and fairly dry pumpkin (or in this case butternut squash) mashed with feta, oregano and/or thyme (or fresh za’atar if you can get it), hot pepper flakes, a little tehina sauce or some garlic and lemon.

Butternut squash fryup–just add a little feta and some hot pepper flakes

If you’re only making 4-8 rolls or triangles, you can stick them on a length of foil that fits your toaster oven. Use a sandwich baggie over your hand to dab very sparing amounts of olive or expeller-pressed grapeseed oil or other light vegetable oil on each individual fillo sheet before folding in thirds, putting the filling on and rolling or folding. Brush the tops very lightly with a little more oil, turn down your toaster oven settings to about 400F and bake for about 10 minutes. When the tops are golden brown, turn the pastries over very gently and bake the whitish bottoms a little longer.

Pumpkin Gorgonzola Flans with Toasted Walnuts

Butternut squash savory flan, slimmed down

adapted from Dorie Greenspan’s Around My French Table

This one has to be microwaveable–it’s a custard base, after all. It also, and I mean this, has to be svelte-able. Really. Greenspan uses 3 eggs plus 2 yolks and half a cup of heavy cream for only one 15-ounce can of packed pumpkin. That’s pretty obscenely rich, especially with 4 ounces or so of crumbled gorgonzola and some toasted walnuts sprinkled over the 6 individual ramekins before baking in a water bath in a conventional oven. And she suggests creme fraiche or sour cream as a garnish? Yikes.

Flan in quarters

Microwave-safe ceramic ramekins are pretty inexpensive if you shop Ross for Less or Target.  I didn’t have gorgonzola or any kind of bleu on hand, so I winged it for concept with some feta.  I will say I’ve noticed that at least Stella gorgonzola melts into a runny sauce in a microwave–good if you want a smooth gorgonzola salad dressing, not so good for a recipe like this where you don’t want it to disappear into the flan. Maybe a more solid bleu like Stilton will melt and run but I’m hoping it stays together better.  Also, nuts in the microwave–maybe not a good idea, at least for big chunks. Even with the moisture from the flan taking the brunt of the energy, I kind of think you’re at risk of scorching them from the inside out, particularly if they’re on top of the flan. Better to roast them separately on a lowered heat in the toaster oven–200-250F for 5 minutes or so while the flan is going in the microwave, then sprinkle them on afterward as a garnish.

My half-recipe test came out pretty delicious on its own merits and I’m going to buy a small wedge of Stilton to try next. Because I mashed the butternut squash with a fork rather than using a purée, it’s a little rougher and less refined but the fresh taste is noticeable and lighter. Using plain nonfat yogurt in place of the heavy cream also made it obviously lighter and played up the tang that gorgonzola and bleu normally contribute. The acidic yogurt  may be counterintuitive if you’re thinking conventional cooking, but the small addition of flour plus the egg plus the starch and fiber in the squash prevent it from separating and curdling under heat.

Half-recipe pumpkin flan for lunch (serves 1-3 for lunch or an appetizer/side dish)

  • 6-7 oz/185 g chunk of cooked (microwaved, roasted, leftover) butternut or other red squash
  • 1 lg egg
  • 1/4 c or large heaping soupspoon of plain nonfat milk-and-cultures-only yogurt (not even Greek! just the cheap regular!)
  • small clove of garlic, mashed/minced/grated
  • pinch or stem worth of thyme
  • 1 t flour
  • 1 oz crumbled feta
  • sprinkle of smoked paprika, grind of black pepper to taste
  • toasted walnuts, optional

Mash everything up to the feta together in a microwaveable soup bowl, sprinkle on a little paprika and/or pepper, cover the bowl lightly with a lid or saucer, microwave 3 minutes on HIGH. Lift the lid carefully to check–it may still be liquidy in the center but cooked towards the outside rim. If the bowl’s very hot, let it sit covered another couple of minutes, jiggle again to see if the center’s cooked. If not, give it another 30 seconds and let sit again to cool down enough to handle. Cut into 3-4 pieces and serve–garnish as desired.

Last-Minute Sweets for Rosh Hashanah

toaster oven baklava rolls with honey

A quick last-minute wish for peace and a sweet and prosperous New Year to everyone. I know it doesn’t look that likely, between the physical and political versions of “weather” in the news, but I try to remember that it begins with us in our own neighborhoods and that we can make a difference by our own actions. If you haven’t yet, please make an effort to donate aid–even a couple of bucks–to the victims of Hurricanes Harvey, Irma and Maria and to the victims of the earthquakes in Mexico. If you have neighbors and friends waiting to hear from loved ones caught in these disasters, do what you can to support them.

In the meantime, if you’re stuck for a last-minute dessert that works along the theme of “honey”–try baklava. I’m not actually kidding–if you have a toaster oven (for smaller amounts, 7-10 portions) and a microwave, and you have the makings of baklava (a roll of fillo, a bag of walnuts, some sugar and sweet spices and some butter or light-flavored vegetable oil), plus a bottle of honey, you’re in business. Of course, you could do apples instead of walnuts and make a strudel instead–also good and pretty easy. Peel and slice up or chop the apple (s), stick the pieces on a plate and microwave a minute or so to cook through and drain the juices before sprinkling on sugar, spices, and crushed nuts or breadcrumbs and/or raisins, and rolling up in fillo.

Toaster Oven Baklava Rolls

These are kind of like “ladies’ fingers” Moroccan fillo pastries, only with walnut filling rather than almond paste. Rolling individual fillo sheets is easy and a lot  quicker (and more fun, frankly) than layering several sheets flat and neat and then cutting pieces and baking and pouring a big jar of cold syrup over the hot pan. Plus the traditional syrup soak is a huge overload of sweet that’s admirable in its own odd way but very rich and hard to deal with–very sticky–right before you have to head off to synagogue. This is kind of a modular recipe–make just a few rolls if you feel like it, drizzle a bit of honey over the rolls at will.

  • roll of fillo dough , thawed (uses 1 sheet per roll; if you have extra left over, rewrap carefully and store in the fridge or freezer)
  • about 1 ounce walnuts per roll (I used about 6-7 ounces for 7 rolls)
  • 1 T sugar per 3-4 oz walnuts (I used 2T)
  • cinnamon or ground cardamom, about 1/2 t for 6-7 oz walnuts)
  • 1 t orange blossom water, optional, or orange or lemon juice or rind–you don’t want the mixture wet, this is for aromatic flavor
  • 2-3 T butter, melted, or vegetable oil, or a mixture, as needed
  • honey to drizzle over the top once baked, about 1/2-1 t per roll
  1. Slice the butter thin and melt in a ceramic or other microwaveable bowl, about 2 minutes.
  2. Put the walnuts in a plastic bag with some room and roll over them with a rolling pin or wine bottle to break them up fairly fine with a few 1/8th-1/4 inch bits, or if you feel like it, chop them in a food processor, not too fine. Add the sugar, spices and orange blossom water or juice to the bag and mix them into the nut meal.
  3. Unroll the fillo carefully onto a clean flat surface (lay down plastic wrap first as needed).
  4. Put a plastic sandwich baggie over your hand and dip it lightly into the melted butter. Dab on the top sheet of fillo.
  5. Fold the fillo sheet in thirds lengthwise. Grab a small handful of the nut mixture (2 T-ish), squeeze, and place at one end of the fillo strip. Tuck the side edges over it by 1/4-1/2 inch, then roll the end over and around the nut filling to enclose it. Dab a bit more butter on the rest of the strip and roll it up. Place on tin foil. Repeat with the rest of the fillo sheets until you run out of nut filling. If you run out of butter or oil, you can slice a bit more to melt quickly. You don’t need much per roll and the sandwich baggie should help spread it without absorbing any.
  6. When all the rolls are made, dab the last of the butter or oil on the tops, wait a minute to let it sink in a bit, and place the sheet in a toaster oven (or your regular oven preheated to 350F). For the toaster oven, set to bake on 350-400F, not “toast”, for about 8-10 minutes and keep an eye on it so nothing burns.
  7. Bake until the rolls are a deep golden brown and smelling baked. Remove from the oven, cool and squeeze on a drizzle of honey to taste–about half to one teaspoon per roll is enough for flavor without submerging it in syrup.

Baklava rolls browning in the toaster oven–don’t forget to set the temperature a little lower than for toasting so the tops don’t burn

L’Shanah Tova Tikatevu!