Rosewater is the secret ingredient that makes these strawberry rhubarb galettes in a flaky whole-grain gluten-free crust taste like pure magic. Adapted from Sweeter Off the Vine by Yossy Arefi.
I’m listening to Gregorian chants while I edit photos of these flaky little pielets. Choral music often helps me focus, but today it seems especially fitting because biting into one of these sweet treats, especially when warm from the oven and smothered in drippy ice cream, is a religious experience. Crisp crust shatters against tender fruit, and flavors emerge one after another: floral vanilla, tart rhubarb, sweet berries, earthy oat and millet flours, butter, lemon, and finally a whiff of perfumy rose that forces you to take another bite, then another, before you can stop yourself.
Soaked cashews blended with miso, garlic, and lemon make a dreamy vegan Alfredo sauce for gluten-free pasta and spring vegetables. Parmesan is optional. Adapted from The Love & Lemons Cookbook.
Yesterday I went to our co-op to get the ingredients for this dish. I also grabbed some make-up – a bit of eyeshadow and face powder. I don’t wear the stuff much, but I’m performing with my salsa class this weekend and have to get done up in false eyelashes, a gold sequined halter top, and skintight red pants – totally my style. Anyway, Jay put the groceries away while I answered emails. He set the eyeshadow on my desk and I asked where the powder was. “There was no other make-up,” he said. The powder was on my receipt, so I checked the grocery bags, my purse, the car. Nothing. I called the co-op to see whether I had left it behind. They didn’t find it, but offered to continue looking. I figured I must have forgotten to put it in my bag and the next customer had accidentally picked it up. I was bummed – it had cost $22 and wasn’t even something I wanted. So I did what I do when I’m frustrated: I opened the refrigerator to get a snack.
Homemade coffee ice cream gets a twist from crumbles of sesame halva and drizzles of bittersweet chocolate stracciatella.
Before we get down to ice cream business, a bit of news about my cookbook(!). First, it has a new cover! And second, we decided to move the release date from April to September in order to put out the best book we could. Alternative Baker: Reinventing Dessert with Gluten-Free Grains and Flours will now come with layflat binding (which is a godsend when you’re trying to work from it in the kitchen, whether or not you have a nifty cookbook holder), as well as better photos, better edits, and the aforementioned shiny new cover. I couldn’t be happier with this decision, and I hope that those of you who have preordered (THANK YOU!) won’t mind the wait. Come September, you’ll be able to hold over 100 brand-new recipes in your hands.
Grilled asparagus and marinated tofu add substance to these fresh spring rolls (a.k.a. summer rolls) packed with crunchy roots, creamy avocado, and pungent fresh mint and scallions. Naturally vegetarian, vegan, and gluten-free.
Real talk: spring rolls are a pain. You prep vegetables, cook fillings, make a sauce, soften the wrappers, and then, after all that, you have to stand over the counter for forever rolling the slippery little buggers around ingredients that want to spray everywhere. All this for an appetizer that disappears in about 2.2 seconds. And yet, spring rolls are delicious. I want to eat them all the time.
This is why I tricked Emma into making them for me.
Grasshopper Pie gets a stupid-healthy update from cashews, coconut, matcha, fresh mint, and an almond-cocoa crust. Gluten-free, vegan and optionally refined sugar-free.
Pi Day is the best holiday, amiright? It’s a holiday where math, pizza, and pie lovers unite. No matter that I’m about as adept at math as I am at training my cat not to eat my cookies, my love of pie more than makes up for this fact, and I’ve been plotting and testing these green beauties for the past few weeks. So it is that I bring you these little pies in jars infused with fresh mint, matcha, and a crumbly almond-cocoa crust topped with minty coconut cream and chocolate shavings.
I like my ladies the way I like my cocktails: strong, cool, and complex.
I’ve been trying to make this cocktail since 2007 when I first tried it at Alembic in the Haight-Ashbury neighborhood of San Francisco. Amelia and I used to frequent Alembic when it first opened, before there was a line out the door every night and you had to elbow-fight pretty hipsters to get a drink. Back then, we would meet after work, which for us was around midnight. I worked a plating shift at a schmancy restaurant where I juggled 8 different desserts every night, then scoured the kitchen from top to bottom, all for what basically amounted to minimum wage. Amelia worked odd hours as a counselor at a house for folks who had fallen on hard times. We would both emerge from work when most of the city was tucked into bed, both in need of a stiff drink. We’d belly up to the near-empty bar, chat with the bartenders about the relative merits of gin vs. whiskey, and snack on deviled duck eggs and the most delicious cocktails either of us had ever tasted.