It All Started with Halo-Halo

  

I first read about this popular, in some places, dessert, Halo-Halo, in my copy of Filipinx, Heritage Recipes from the Diaspora, which I reviewed  and posted about last year. Then just recently, after experimenting with various versions of the treat, I wanted to do a post on it, but with a Filipino authored book to go along with my post. Well, searching the internet for authors, preferably of cozy mysteries, brought me to: Arsenic and Adobo, by Mia P. Manansala.  Which book, luckily I enjoyed very much.  Also, her covers are so striking! From the Publishers:

"The first book in a new culinary cozy series full of sharp humor and delectable dishes-one that might just be killer.... When Lila Macapagal moves back home to recover from a horrible breakup, her life seems to be following all the typical rom-com tropes. She's tasked with saving her Tita Rosie's failing restaurant, and she has to deal with a group of matchmaking aunties who shower her with love and judgment. But when a notoriously nasty food critic (who happens to be her ex-boyfriend) drops dead moments after a confrontation with Lila, her life quickly swerves from a Nora Ephron romp to an Agatha Christie case."  And from the Publisher's Weekly:

"Lila Macapagal, the narrator of Manansala's outstanding debut and series launch, notices two unwelcome customers at Tita Rosie's Kitchen, a Filipino restaurant run by her aunt in Shady Palms, Ill., where Lila has moved after a devastating breakup with her fiancé. Ed Long, the restaurant's landlord, is trying to close the place down, and Long's stepson, Derek Winter, a steady customer, consistently writes negative reviews about its cuisine on his blog....... Chock-full of food lore, this delicious mystery will leave readers hungry for more of the adventures of Lila, her friends and relatives, and her chunky dachshund (who is named after a kind of short, fat sausage). Cozy fans are in for a treat.

Bird's Nest Pudding for the Farmer Boy

Our latest Cook the Books Club selection was Farmer Boy by Laura Ingalls Wilder, her charming, somewhat bucolic, and idealized novel of early American farm life, as seen through the eyes of a young boy. Mostly biographical, as it was based upon her husband's upbringing in upstate New York.

I enjoyed the story, with all of the homegrown vegetables, grains, and meat, the home cooking, preserving of food, weaving, spinning, and their whole life of self reliance and  living on and from the land.  Even using the straw for hats, leather for shoes, etc.  Talk about going back to the land.  We have come so far from that sort of life. Refreshing to read about.

Even the "bad boys" at school get their comeuppance.  This is definitely not a dysfunctional family.  Though of course we know there were lots of those at that time as well as in our own.  She spared her young readers, many of whom likely wished themselves on the little house planet.

The Year of the Kumquat

 A very small portion of them shown here.

When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade, or in my case Lemon Mead, and when you've been blessed with a load of kumquats, you need to be creative with them.  We haven't really had a whole year of them, it just sounded good, and sometimes feels that way.  Bob has had a strange obsession with the fruit ever since Thanksgiving when I made a Cranberry Kumquat Sauce.  I know it was only partly my delicious creation, with the other driving factor being humor.  Really, the name is not that funny.  He started with Facebook posting a W.C. Fields film clip on kumquats.  Yes, that was funny, ha ha ha.  Then Googling and posting all sorts of information on the fruit, health benefits, recipes and etc.  And which has caused other people to give him kumquats.

Bob notwithstanding, I still needed to deal with the second large bagful of those tasty little citrus, thanks due to Nancy, whom some of you might remember from my fabulous post on chocolate making.  First up was marmalade, which I simplified.  I did not like the sound of most of those lengthy recipes.  So, rather than mincing them all, one at a time, I tossed the halved, seeded fruit into a food processor and voila.

Thomasplitzchen Buns or Fruit Spirals

As I began to read our current Cook the Books Club selection, The Baker's Daughter, by Sarah McCoy, I became more and more drawn into the story, both for its own sake, and then especially after remembering that my own mother was a German baker's daughter.  Her father's father came from Germany in the latter part of the 19th century, migrating to Minnesota, and from there his son, her father, Charles Ulmen, moved his young family to California around 1910, where he opened a bakery, which morphed into a cookie factory.

I know they made a variety of cookies, at least one of them chocolate, based on an old family story of my uncle's raid on the bakery supplies.  The little guy ate enough chocolate to make himself sick, and never wanted any more for the remainder of his life.

Previously my genealogical research had been confined to my father's side, so this was an encouragement to dig into my mother's history.  Why did her grandfather leave his home in Europe, and exactly when.  Lots more remains to be discovered.

This book was a fascinating tale of life in Germany during the World War II years, from one young girl's perspective, and all through it we are tempted by the descriptions of delicious breads and pastries in their family bakery.  I was inspired to attempt them all.  Which might just happen, eventually.

Italian Plum Cake and Mysteries of Life

There are books, wonderful books, well-written, which I have enjoyed and appreciated, yet if asked later about the story line, I might only be able to tell you about a bit of food.   Plum Cake, case in point, from the recent and excellent novel by Donna Leon, The Golden Egg.

As one reviewer, Ms. Goring at The Herald, stated: "We find ourselves once more in the company of Commissario Guido Brunetti, a gentlemanly, bookish policeman who never takes a short cut if it would impede his ruminations on life."  A domestic tragedy, and mystery involving the death of a local boy, a deaf-mute, his neighbors believe.  Things are not always what they seem on the surface, and Paola, Brunetti's equally bookish wife, refuses to let things alone.  She encourages her husband to find out more about the sad-eyed young man, and why he died.

And she bakes her family a fabulous Plum Cake.  Her son equates it with God.  I don't know that I would go that far.  Though God did give us plums.

Tiramisu Trifle with Brown Sugar Cake, Chocolate Cream and Strawberries

 This began as a mistake.  A Dorie Greenspan recipe, which can be found in Baking: From My Home to Yours, for Brown Sugar Bundt Cake.  It was okay, though in the unmolding, quite a bit stuck to the bottom of the pan.  Not a thing of beauty, and as these things can happen, sat around for a few days.  So, yes a trifle (ha ha) stale.

I had been wanting an excuse to make Trifle, and this was it.  As well as another use for my Margarita glasses.  Not that they don't get enough use.  Multipurpose being  good.  Frugality also.

Trifle is so charmingly adaptable.  If your cake or cookies are plain, go hog wild on the layering ingredients.  This being a fruity sort of cake, including fresh pear and apple as well as dried figs and raisins, I kept the layers to a minimum.  Chocolate flavored cream cheese at the bottom, then cake pieces drizzled with Amaretto, followed by whipped cream, strawberries, then more whipped cream.

You could use ricotta or other fresh cultured cheese instead of the cream cheese in this, blended with your flavorings of choice. I used kefir cream cheese, agave nectar, and cacao powder.

The fresh strawberries came from our Volcano Village farmer's market.

Tiramisu Strawberry Trifle

For 2 large dessert glasses:

1 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons confectioner's sugar
1/2 cup cream cheese or ricotta
1/4 cup agave nectar or light honey
2 tablespoons cacao powder
1 tablespoon heavy whipping cream
2 cups (approx.) left-over cake
2 tablespoons Amaretto
1 cup strawberries, sliced  (2 reserved whole for topping)

Whip the cream and add in confectioner's sugar toward the finish.  Set aside.  Beat the ricotta and tablespoon of cream with honey or agave nectar and cacao powder until smooth, or whip together in your food processor.  Set aside.

Slice the strawberries, reserving 2 for topping.  Set aside.  Cut the cake into slices or pieces to fit your serving glasses.

Assemble layers, beginning with the chocolate cream at the bottom, next add a layer of cake pieces and drizzle with Amaretto or rum.  Add a layer of whipped cream, then the sliced strawberries, more whipped cream and a nice looking, smallish strawberry on top.

Chill for at least 2 hours so all the flavors can meld.  Serve it up with a little Sicilian (er... Mexican) tap dance.  Happy Cinco de Mayo!  Truly delightful, and pretty darn easy too.  Especially if you have some slightly stale cake or cookies that need to be creatively resurrected.