Stress Addict: Green Tea-Peppermint Popsicles & Raspberry-Yogurt Popsicles

-Better than cocaine, right? Plus, it's a natural high.-

I’m addicted to stress.

I only recently figured this out. I was looking in my mailbox freaking out over why a new kindle hadn’t arrived yet. Did the mail lose it? I needed it soon! What if it doesn’t show? It’s hot outside, so what if the heat breaks it? The roads are bumpy and so it could shake apart. I’ll open a box of shattered glass and plastic! How do I even use it when it gets here? It seems so complicated! But?! Oh no!? AUUUGH!

Oh God, I think I’m gonna die…

-I am Anxiety Man. Able to leap to the worst conclusion in a single bound. (I hope I didn't stain the tablecloth for this photo.)-

My friend, Janelle, who was on the phone with me as my poor little heart ran so fast you would think I overdosed it with ecstacy and Pixy Stix, finally brought me back to earth. “Garrett. Stop. Why are you stressing this? It’s not solving anything and nothing can be done right now. Just stop." Her voice was so firm and each word given so much importance and stacatto she sounded like a female version of Allen Rickman.

I paused a moment, more because my heart skipped a few beats and caused me stroke out for a bit than because of what she said, but I thought about it.

Why was I? It was in the mail. There was nothing to be done except wait.

I realized then that I wanted to stress out about this. The adrenaline would flood my body. A neurotic electrical storm would rip through every memory and thought to find any shred – any damnable hope – of a solution. Muscle cells would fire like pistons raging against whatever dilemma was at hand. Stress, for me, was my power. Fuel for destroying my enemies be they human, situational, or, apparently, the United States Postal Service.

You see, in my experience stress brings about solutions.

The saying goes that you shouldn’t sweat the small stuff. The people who say this, usually have a gross excess of time and money, or a sugar daddy. When you sweat the small stuff it’s because the small stuff usually has a solution. Something can be done to remedy the problem at hand.

-Like have a panic attack. I hear mint calms those down.-

For example, when your flight gets cancelled you go into overdrive. You run like a greyhound after a mechanical bunny to the next information booth. You fight everyone else at the airport. They are your enemies; competition for a limited number of seats on the next flight out. They must be destroyed. You plead, yell, cajole, seduce, bribe the poor kiosk lady for the shittiest, leftover seat. Simultaneously, you’re on the phone with a booking agent looking for a backup to that as you e-mail a competing airline for an opening just in case. In the end you might get a flight out and still get home in time to watch a new episode of True Blood.

Sweating the small stuff gets things done. It gets results.

Many of you might not call something like missing a plane small stuff. My belief is anything not world ending is small stuff.

My house burned down? Screw it. I’m going to Mexico. Nothing to be done about it. (This is an example my own personal world ending.)

A meteor careening towards Earth? The end of the world is inevitable and no Bruce Willis on a shuttle with an atom bomb to save us all? Screw it. I’m spending my time at a drug induced orgy and having unprotected sex with strangers. Not like I have to really worry about the long term consequences, right?

Mistaken Identity: Blackberry-Rosewater Sorbet

-Make no mistake about the delightfulness of this spring sorbet.-

-Mission Viejo High School, 1999-

I was exhausted. Somehow I had scrounged enough cohesive thought on my most recent Algebra 2 exam and pulled off a B. The class was the bane of my academic life, an inescapable ding against my otherwise 4.0 GPA. I was getting tutored, studying like a maniac, and otherwise trying my best to scrape together good grades. A B was essentially the best I could do and probably used up the rest of my luck for the next few weeks. I was convinced that the class was completely useless in the long run anyways and couldn't understand the purpose of being beaten over the head with the derivative of a cosecant.

(By the way, to any readers out there who are in high school: Unless you plan to go to college for mathematics or engineering, you will never use Algebra 2, Calculus, or Trigonometry. Ever. At most, you will end up using the basics of Geometry and Algebra 1. Just thought I would confirm this ever-present high school complaint for you.)

As I made my way to the quad I spotted my friend, Tiffany. Her back was towards me but I could make out her tan skin, her short but bouncy curls like thick, winding ribbons, and her varsity jacket.

Tiffany and I were friends who had met in marching band. I was the only male flute player in the woodwind section and she one of the color guard girls. We were good friends who spent a lot of time together; she would teach me to spin her color guard flag, sending it soaring high into the air at dizzying speeds. I loved the kaleidoscopic spin of the colors and the pata-pata-pata-pap of the fabric as it fought against the whipping air. I taught her the basics of the flute and helped her with her English homework, and how to best memorize passages from her literature assignments.

Like any friends we also had out own secret set of inside jokes and private rituals. This included phonetically writing out any Japanese word in English, referring to ourselves "Bot Hitches", and me smacking her ass till it felt like a pincushion for her.

Hangover: Blackberry Mascarpone Turnovers (Plus Giveaway Winner!)

-Not sure if I should be ashamed of this post or not...-

The light blazing in between the slats of the window shades forced its way into the room with an unrelenting fury. To look at it was a mistake, my confused desire to confirm that all this daylight meant that it was indeed morning. The sun, in all its radiant indifference, slammed its rays through my eyes and into the back of my skull with shuddering force, like a gladiator swinging a halberd into the torso of his charging opponent.

“NYAAAAGH!!!” I cried and flipped back around to bury my head into the darkness of my pillow. “Why did you open the blinds?!”

“Because it’s ten o’clock and you told me to last night, ‘No matter what,’ so you could get your work done,” said BF who crawled back into bed before slipping into dreamy unconsciousness.

“Damn you and your punctuality. Damn me, too. Ugh,” I sighed. I peeked out from the covers to let a sliver of morning in and attempted to adjust my eyes. After a few minutes, now fully emerged from the darkness of my pillow-topped fortress, I pulled on whatever clothes were nearest to my hand (i.e. what I was wearing last night and had stripped into a pile on the floor, and that the cat had decided to make a bed out of). I wrapped myself up in a blanket and crawled out to the kitchen.

" I have to admit. I was surprised how well I held myself last night," I smirked to myself.

-Seriously, I was.-

The previous night had been the post-thesis celebration. A rather impromptu gathering fueled by food and booze of every sort. It was a grand ‘ol affair that went late into the night with raucous conversation and brazen drinking of the kind that I hadn’t partaken in since I was 22. A bevy of cocktails made with a pitcher of freshly squeezed vanilla bean lemonade and a bottle of Absolut vodka started the night off with a sunny disposition. Eventually the group moved through a few bottles of red wine before diving into a dauntingly large bottle of champagne (my one true weakness). By the time we cracked open the tequila it was a sleigh ride out of sobriety and into the realm of near total shitfacedness.

“Still, I did not overtly swear, fall down, or fondle a single person last night. Plus, I remember everything that happened! I’m quite proud and more than just a bit than surprised with myself.”

"Mmmff," muffled back BF in sleepy agreement.

It’s true. I was. I can be a bit of a handful when I drink. My tipsy-akimbo position is one where one arm holds a drink while wrapped around the shoulders of a friend so I can stay standing, while the other arm takes to task touching any pretty lookin’ fellow who happens by me. Generally, I become the person you try to avoid and who you're embarrassed to have attended with. I'm quite the mess, really.

Somehow, still, by the grace of God, Vishnu, and a Euro-mix heritage that blessed me with a mighty liver I made it through the night without that happening. I think of it as a sign of maturation.

-Glad that whole becoming mature thing is out of the way.-

The hangover itself wasn’t so bad, either. I could move and I didn't wake up in the bathtub with a bucket nearby so already things were looking up. After my body adjusted to morning I was able to adequately go about my business except that I was accompanied by a dull headache. The sounds of the day would be chased by the constant hum reverberating in the front of my skull, a sound like the last trailing tone of a church bell’s bark.

I had set the alarm and the BF to wake me up because last night I had every intention of getting dressed and driving down the Farmer’s Market. As it stood now? Hells no. Whatever plans I had on cooking something elaborate and the story I had started penning to go with it were chucked aside. What for, though, was something I wasn’t quite sure of yet.

Once in the kitchen I plopped down on the linoleum floor and opened the refridgerator door. I zoned out as I tanned in the fluorescent light hoping something would club me in the face with inspiration. I pulled the blanket tighter against me as the cold air curled out and snaked around me. Grabbing my pounding head I wondered if Asprin studded scones would either be seen awesome or problematic. I imagine such a post would lead to a bunch of people unsubscribing to my blog feed followed by a whole new audience hitting the subscribe button.

-Next Week: Cocaine and Cough Syrup Parfaits!-

Suddenly, the sound of a small explosion burst from the fridge. It was, in fact, simply a stick of butter falling off a piece of tupperware onto the floor of the fridge. My addled brain had moved from buring my retinas with light to liquifying my brain with sound. "How lovely," I thought to myself.

The cause of the butter crash had been my cat, Eat Beast. He had already snuck well into the back of the fridge in an attempt to get at a poorly wrapped piece of ham and that his tail had knocked the butter over. As I yanked him out - much to his verbal protest - the Aspirin scones suddenly seemed far more reasonable. Maybe with a dusting of ground Lithium and powdered sugar for garnish?

Pulling out the cat revealed that previously hidden behind his girth sat a box of puff pastry. Near it, a container of blackberries and half of a container of mascarpone cheese.

Turnovers it would be. They sounded like appropriate hangover food.

Having never been one for fast food my usual hangover cure has always been vegetarian Szechuan food. This is put together in the most haphazard way I can think of as cooking and wanting to die at the same time rarely ever go hand in hand and usually results in pretty piss-poor food. I simply smash up some garlic, ginger, and chili peppers and throw them into a wok with shimmering-hot oil. After a quick stir in goes whatever vegetables I can find and chop up without harming myself. (Handling a knife while hungover is never the smartest thing, but I figure if professional chefs in the 80's can do it while coming down from cocaine I can do it while recovering from tequila shots). A few minutes and a splash of soy sauce later I have my meal.

Doing this post-mowed is pretty miserable work. I power through it each time knowing that in the end my stomach will feel better, my head will clear up (at least, somewhat so), and I’ll be able to go back to sleep and feel rejuvenated.

Having no vegetables in the house meant no Szechuan food. That meant turnovers.

-Most problems usually mean turnovers.-

The whole thing came together rather quickly. The filling ingredients were stirred together in a bowl. The puff pastry quickly rolled and cut. The only tedious part was the egg washing and folding. Tedious-ish. Time was pretty fuzzy during all this so I'm not sure if it took five or fifty minutes.

Either way, they got in the oven. I was even able to take pictures, so props to me there. They also tasted pretty darn good. So, you know, more props.

They taste even better when your head isn’t an arena for knife fighting monkeys. Buttery, flakey puff pastry is a welcome sight any morning, and, I can confirm this now, a great hangover cure. Fill it with blackberries and cheese? Well, the jammy and creamy mess bubbling inside them is just dandy.

However, these turnovers are of a simple flavor and not a revelation. Rather, they have a flavor you appreciate when you’re in the proper mood for it. When you are, the turnovers tastes nearly life affirming. When you're reeling from tequila shots they're practically the perfect food; even better than a coffee and a Big Mac. Even, possibly, better than Szechuan food.

After that I went back to bed and crashed for a bit; perfectly content and full of puff pastry. I would sleep the rest of the hangover off happily.

---GIVEAWAY WINNER---

To pick the winner I flipped a coin to choose whether the winner would be chosen from comments on the blog or comments on the Facebook thread. Blog won the coin toss. From that I entered everyone into a random number generator.

The winner is redstrands! Redstrands, please be sure to e-mail me with your contact info so I can send the books your way. Thanks everyone who entered!


Blackberry Mascarpone Turnovers
Makes 24 turnovers

2 7-ounce prepared puff pastry sheets
6 ounces blackberries, chopped
1/4 cup Mascarpone cheese
zest of 1 lemon or orange
1 tablespoon honey
1 egg, beaten

1. Combine blackberries, Mascarpone, zest, and honey in a bowl.

2. Preheat oven to 400°F. Working with one puff pastry sheet at a time roll out the pastry to a size of 9-inches by 12-inches. Cut into 12 3x3-inch squares. Use your finger to paint a the edges of each square with beaten egg (this will help the pastry seal). Place a teaspoon of the blackberry mixture in the center of the squares. Fold over the squares into a triangle shape (for smaller ones, just fold into rectangles, they aren't as pretty but they are easier to fold). Stretch the dough if you need to to close the turnovers. Use the tines of a fork to crimp the edges. Place the turnovers on a parchment paper lined baking sheet. Chill for 5 minutes in the refrigerator before baking, or chill while you prepare the second puff pastry sheet.

3. Whisk a teaspoon of water into the beaten egg. Using a pastry brush paint the turnovers with the egg to give them a shiny glaze. Bake the turnovers for 15-20 minutes or until golden and puffy. Allow to cool for 10 minutes before serving.

-And now for a long nap.-

Escape From Anxiety: Strawberry & Wine Jam

-In order to bring about a calming sensation...-

I peered across the room to the see the clock on the kitchen oven. By this time of day the sunlight was blasting its way into the apartment completely annihilating the dull green glowing time. I finally had to get up from the couch and delicately tip-toe around the piles of papers and research that stacked like a miniature skyscrapers around my feet. Once in the kitchen I cupped my hand to block the light and check the time. 10:32 AM.

“Oh hell,” I muttered. I had woken up at 6 AM to start working and already four hours had flitted away without my notice. My head, buried in the collected works of Karl Marx and Carlo Petrini and fueled by an exaggerated cup of black tea, had been too preoccupied.

My stomach growled a low bass rumble that shook the kitchen. I felt exhausted, stressed, and completely empty. I grabbed a piece of bread and smeared it with a bit of butter before wolfing it down to fill all the nothing inside me. As soon as I swallowed some of it a ripple of nausea took over. I felt my throat beginning to contort and my tongue instinctively taking a sluice-like position. I turned on my heel and threw myself over the sink and spit out the bread I was still chewing. I immediately braced myself for what was sure to come.

I waited. My stomach churned. My diaphragm sent my torso heaving. Nothing came. I waited some more. Nothing.

-Pictured: Not vomit.-

I dragged myself up and wiped the tears out of my eyes. A deep breath followed by another, heavier breath. I forced the rest of the bread down. I washed it all with the rest of my tea, which by now was hoarse and cold but I wanted the bitterness to nullify the lingering gastronomic vertigo that my stomach seemed to be recoiling from.

It was time for a break.

The anxiety attack had been caused by, unsurprisingly, the thesis. I had finally received feedback on my last chapter from my second reader. Most of it was positive, but she had noted a few places where she thought my arguments rested too much on broad generalizations and needed some more concrete evidence, preferably Marxist.

I had avoided learning anything more than the basic premises of Marxist critique and theory during my academic life because I had found it rather dull and uninspiring. Now, at the end of a nine year run of undergrad and grad school, Marx came bum-rushing in right before the finish line to kneecap me with a lead pipe. I had spent the previous 32 hours reading through most of Marx's major works attempting comprehend his theories. (Which, now, I will admit, are kinda intriguing.) I was mentally drained and physically exhausted.

-Is making jam a marking of the proletariat? Is it Petit Bourgeois? These are not questions one asks oneself when trying to prevent sugar and strawberries from scorching.-

I was doing my best to do a three day turnaround on my thesis and get a near-perfect draft to my final reader. With only 5 weeks left in the semester I needed approval or else I was doomed to enroll in a regular semester instead of enrolling in continuous enrollment semester of which I was currently on my last semester of.

Here’s how it works and the situation I find myself in: Each student gets three semesters of continuous enrollment where you aren’t really taking classes. It’s just more time to work on your thesis or project. Continuous enrollment costs about $200. If you go past three you have to re-enroll in a regular semester which costs about $2000.

I’m trying to get the thesis fixed and approved under a tight deadline so I can finish this semester. The reason for the anxiety is that if my reader requests a revision I probably won’t have enough time to fix it and get it to her. I would have to wait 6 more months and pay thousands of dollars in order for her to spend a few hours reading a revision. Her hands are essentially tied as she is disallowed to legally or contractually do any work outside of school time and read it when she is not on the clock else she get in trouble with the school.

I had appealed to the school for an extension, citing that the house fire last January during my first continuous enrollment semester had destroyed most of my research along with everything else and that I hadn’t dis-enrolled at the time simply because it wasn’t on my mind. Homelessness will do that. The graduate department (aka: The Bastards) perplexedly concluded that this was not a valid reason. So now I'm trapped in a web of bureaucratic yellow tape and deadlines. I imagine the dean of the college simply lying in wait deciding on when to plunge its mandibles into my wallet and soul (it’s not a matter of either/or, but of which one first).

-Screw you, graduate studies office. You get no berries. Just the finger.-

I was now on day three of trying to revise and perfect a 160-page document on that not only did my graduation hinder on, but another six months of my life and thousands of dollars of possible tuition money that would come out of my pocket. Hence the anxiety attack.

Staring into the sink I knew that there was only one thing to do right now. I got out my good pot and my canning materials, and pulled out the hefty bag of strawberries I purchased the other day in preparation for this. I would make jam.

Jamming is my mode of escape from stressful situations. It’s methodical work that requires all of your senses and attention. You have to diligently cut and chop every piece of fruit to similar size. You're constantly touching, smelling, observing, and tasting. Jamming requires you to be intimate with your produce as each batch will have a different personality. Yesterday’s may be slothful and bubble for hours in a syrupy mess before coming together, while today’s may be unripe and unruly, and tomorrow’s batch may be quite keen on you and jam with little more than a click of your heels. Each batch requires supervision and an always stirring hand in order to ensure uniformity.

Jam, thank god, requires that you think and focus on nothing else but jam.

This is why I find it to be such a grand escape. Plus, the bonus of jam making in order to escape is the jam. Your effort results in a rich, concentrated fruit that envelopes the eater.

As I pushed the strawberries into the pot I noticed a bottle of Bordeaux sitting on the counter. BF and I had opened it last night and capped the rest off for later. Without much consideration I grabbed the bottle and poured a few steady glugs of it in the pot. I immediately then put the bottle to my lips and finished the rest. It was dark, fruity, and with a taste of berries and pepper; but without exposure to air the wine was also harsh and burned at my negligence. I twitched a little and felt better as my body warmed.

-Booze makes everything better. This includes breakfast.-

Time passed and the jam came together. It tasted as red probably should, full of spring and precociously sweet fruit. I processed it and licked the spoon clean.

The wine began to take hold and the work had relaxed me. My stress began to wash away and my brain relax as it pushed out concerns of superstructures and deadlines and thought about lid sterilization. Ah, lid sterilization. I pondered about how utterly simple and wonderful lid sterilization is. No rhetorical questions are involved in processing jam. You just preform the task with attentive care.

As I write this days later the anxiety is still present, but tamed. My thesis is now sitting in a professor’s office awaiting judgment. I’m still on the verge of throwing up half the time when I think about it or open my e-mail knowing that a fateful e-mail may await me. The well wishes I have received are hopeful, inspiring, and greatly appreciated, but now it rests on my work and the approval of a single individual. I have no inkling on what her impressions will be.

Still, I have jam. I can eat that and momentarily, even for just a split second, relax. Those split seconds matter to me. That is why jamming, then, is so damn important. Any escape is.


Strawberry & Red Wine Jam
3 1/2 lbs. strawberries, hulled and diced
1/4 cup red wine
juice of 2 lemons
1 lb. sugar
1/8 teaspoon butter

1. Place all the ingredients in a stainless steel or copper pot, or a enamel lined dutch oven (not an aluminum pot as this will leach). Let macerate for about 10 minutes. Place a small plate in the freezer as this will be used for testing later.

2. Turn heat to medium-high. The mixture will bubble and froth vigorously. Skim the foam off the top and discard (or save it and put it on cheese or yogurt; super tasty). The boil will subside to larger bubbles, but still bubble vigorously. Be sure to begin gently stirring the jam frequently to prevent it from sticking and burning to the bottom.

3. After about 20 minutes begin testing the jam by placing a small amount on the cold plate. Allow 30 seconds to pass and then run your finger through it to see what the cooled consistency will be. Boil for a few minutes longer if desired for a thicker jam.

4. Ladle into hot, sterilized canning jars and seal leaving 1/4 inch of head space. Wipe the rims of the jars clean before applying the lids. Screw on the rings to finger-tight. Work quickly. Process in a water bath to ensure a good seal. If you want you can skip the water bath and just screw the lids on tight where the heating-cooling process will create a vacuum seal, but the water bath is a surefire method for a secure seal.

*To sterilize the jars, rinse out clean mason jars, dry them, and place them, without lids, upright in a 200°F oven for 10 minutes. To sterilize the lids put them in a shallow bowl and pour boiling water over them.

Boysenberry-Brown Butter Financiers

-Garrett McCord vs. The World. And does so armed only with baked goods.-

So far this has been one of those weeks where it feels like the universe is against me, where every major celestial body in my life is aligning into a constellational "Screw you." It's quite awesome really. One might find some sort of value in that much attention. I guess I should feel special.

This is a stark comparison to last week where everything seemed to be going so well. Yet within a short time span life suddenly began to suck. This then proves just how cyclical life can be; luck changes in an instant with dizzying and unpredictable speed. Right now, I just happen to be on one of those major downswings. (Seriously, like a greased up razor-lined water slide, this week.)

I know that everything will eventually turn around, I just have to be patient and proactive in changing things for the better. So, in the meantime, I try not to funk myself out too hard. I've always been one of those solve-your-own-problem kind of guys and do my best to reassure my own stormy thoughts rather than hoping happiness will simply drop in my lap. I do this through reading a good book, snuggling with the cats, maybe taking a night out in the middle of the week to meet friends for a movie, and cocktails are always a welcome pick-me-up. However, more often than not, I'll resort to baking.

-It turns out that boysenberries, at least to me, are pretty much the same as blackberries. (Maybe I just got some bad ones?)-

I decided to start flipping through some of my baking cookbooks. Realizing that David Lebovitz's new book was still sitting on my shelf unused I picked it up and started looking for something that would sparkle, something that would brighten my mood, and something foolproof as any slip-up would probably tip me over the edge.

David's blackberry - brown butter financier recipe was the perfect candidate. Requiring just a few minutes with a food processor I was able to pop together a simple tea cake with the nutty taste of brown butter. While I had no blackberries I did have a few baskets of boysenberries that I had procured at the market. (I had picked them up to see if there was really a difference between the two. In my opinion, not really).

The cakes, thank god, turned out perfectly. Simple and bright - just what I needed.

The week still has a few days to go and so far things haven't really turned around yet. Still, when eating my cute cakes things, for a moment, seem a bit better.


Boysenberry-Brown Butter Financiers
Adapted from David Lebovitz's Ready for Dessert

7 tablespoons of butter
140 grams of almond flour
100 grams of sugar
70 grams of powdered sugar
45 grams of all-purpose flour
pinch of salt
4 egg whites
1/2 teaspoon of almond extract
1/2 teaspoon of vanilla extract
6 ounces of boysenberries

1. Preheat an oven to 400F and butter a 12-slot muffin tin.

2. In a saucepan melt the butter over low heat. The butter will crackle and sizzle a bit. Continue to cook until the butter turns amber-colored. This will happen quickly and the butter can go from browned to burnt in a second so keep a close eye on it.

3. In a food processor or blender mix together the almond flour, sugars, flour, and salt. With the motor running add the extracts and egg whites. Pour in the warm brown butter through a wire strainer to keep out the blackened, burnt butter solids at the bottom of the saucepan. Mix until smooth.

4. Divide the batter evenly amongst the muffin slots. Press a few boysenberries into each cup. Bake until golden brown, about 18-20 minutes. let cool for 10 minutes, then tip the cakes onto a wire rack to cool completely.

-Here's to better weeks.-

The Steamy Story of Blueberry Jam

-Jam making with loved ones can be a bit messy.-

To my knowledge BF wasn't much of a cook before we met. He can fire a mean grill but I don't think he really had much kitchen panache. However, in the last few years or so through a combination of curiosity, observation, and osmosis he seems to be picking up quite a bit. He can make a mean banana bread, his blondies kick ass, and his ability to whip together an astounding marinade to slather on any of God's tasty creatures gives me goosebumps.

When he recently got back home after a few weeks of medical training he saw the ludicrous amount of jamming I had been pounding out. Jars of mint jelly, rhubarb ginger syrup, blackberry jam, apricot jam, apricot vanilla syrup, plum conserves were stacked high in the kitchen. Indeed, to anyone, cook or not, it was quite a sight.

-Isn't it odd that blueberries cook up violet and indigo?-

"Did you make any blueberry?" he asked.

"No, sadly, I haven't gotten around to it. It's been on my to-do list for about two years now. I always seem to put it off," I said.

"Well, then let's make some."

"You want to learn to make jam?" I was surprised.

He said that he did. I was giddy. The man can make buckwheat pancakes, fix a shower head like nobody's business, bandage my clumsy ass up, and has a desire to learn jam making? Oh yeah, definitely a keeper.

We got lucky in our berry search as we found huge cartons of organic berries for only four bucks each - a steal in blueberry economics. Three pounds ended up costing us around $13. We grabbed a lemon and an extra sack of sugar and headed home.

-Behold! A sea of blue.-

It was a steamy batch of jam to say the least. With the weather being in the triple digits outside and the water bath boiling away inside as well as the oven running at 200 degrees to sterilize the cans it felt like a Louisiana summer. We went about our work dressed only in shorts and aprons teasing and flirting as we went back and forth across the linoleum floor. As I measured the sugar he zested the lemon, I weighed the berries while he readied the lids; each task preformed with a little bit of posing. Witty repartee and coy tête-à-tête played in our tiny galley kitchen which we normally bemoaned about. Now the cramped quarters were suddenly quite intimate.

As we went about mashing and mixing our jam the occasional indigo splurt of juice exploded onto the counter, the floor, and ourselves. The latter wasn't so bad as it was excuse enough to wipe it up with our fingers and taste the jam to see how it was progressing. The jam had condensed the flavors of the blueberries into a winey nectar that was rich and intense, the essence of blueberry harnessed into a more potent preserve.

We quickly ladled the finished jam into jars, popped on their lids and rims and dunked them in their water bath. Tens minutes later and after a bit of cleanup we had six jars of dark Cabernet-colored jam. The heat and humidity was finally too much and we collapsed on the couch under the breeze of the air conditioning armed with tall glasses of iced tea. It was too miserable to cuddle up as body heat was the enemy. Instead we popped in a disc from Netflix, propped our feet on the coffee table and let our toes touch in what I can only call an affectionate manner.

It seems a good relationship is like a good jam. A little time and attention is all it takes to make one successful. Though some heat in the kitchen helps too.

-Perfect on pancakes, toast, muffins, and scones.-

Blueberry Jam Recipe
Blueberries are high in pectin so you won't have to reduce this until it has a jam-like consistency. Do it to just under so it still looks a little bit too liquidy. It will set up plenty solid.

3 lbs of blueberries
1 lb of sugar
three tablespoons of lemon juice
zest of one lemon
1/4 teaspoon of butter

1. Wash the blueberries and toss them into a stainless steel or copper pot, or a enamel lined dutch oven (not an aluminum pot as this will leach). Mash the berries with a wooden spoon. Add the rest of the ingredients and stir. Let macerate for about 10 minutes. Place a small plate in the freezer as this will be used for testing later.

2. Turn heat to medium-high. The mixture will bubble and froth vigorously. Skim the foam off the top and discard (or save it and put it on cheese or yogurt; super tasty). The boil will subside to larger bubbles, but still bubble vigorously. Be sure to begin gently stirring the jam frequently to prevent it from sticking to the bottom.

3. After about 20 minutes begin testing the jam by placing a small amount on the cold plate. Allow 30 seconds to pass and then run your finger through it to see what the cooled consistency will be. Boil for a few minutes longer if desired for a thicker jam.

4. Ladle into hot, sterilized canning jars and seal leaving 1/4 inch of head space. Wipe the rims of the jars clean before applying the lids. Screw on the rings to finger-tight. Work quickly. Process in a water bath to ensure a good seal. If you want you can skip the water bath and just screw the lids on tight where the heating-cooling process will create a vacuum seal, but the water bath is a surefire method for a secure seal.

*To sterilize the jars, rinse out clean mason jars, dry them, and place them, without lids, upright in a 200°F oven for 10 minutes. To sterilize the lids put them in a shallow bowl and pour boiling water over them.

-Good enough to eat with a spoon.-

Breakfast for One

-Eating alone doesn't have to be depressing.-

For the past few weeks BF has been out of town for some of his medical training (which is one of the reasons we compliment each other so well, I having predisposition to accidentally harming myself, and he having to bandage me up). Roommate is usually away for work and his frequent weekend adventures in San Francisco make him so absent I sometimes forget I even have a roommate. I'm only reminded when he comes back in at some random hour on a Tuesday and he regales me with stories that are too scandalous for this blog.

And, so, I've had a lot of alone time. Most of my life has been surrounded by people and while a little alone time is great large amounts of it unnerve me. The cats only listen to me for so long before walking away to catch some reflected sunlight on the wall. I have a strict rule not to drink alone (who would I dance with?). I usually end up watching some horror movie late into the night. I subsequently spend the rest of it in bed rationalizing that the picture frame that fell off the wall at one in the morning was a random occurrence and not the manifestation of some angry ghost who wants to brutalize me.

However, there are plenty of positive aspects to having a long period of uninterrupted personal space. It's amazing how much reading I've been able to catch up with. No one is playing World of Warcraft at three in the morning (nothing, apparently, is noisier than a Death Knight at three in the morning). I can sprawl out in the bed all I want and the covers are all mine.

Cooking seems to be the real problem I have. Suddenly reducing my menus from meals for three to meals for one is difficult. I buy too much at the market and end up struggling to use it all. The sheer volume of leftovers I have in the fridge and freezer is enough to open my own food bank.

-I prefer white nectarines to yellow ones. Plus, I enjoy them tight and tart, not squishy and too sweet.-

Of course, the reason some of it goes unused is because I can eat without reprobation. Ice cream and a side of peanut butter toast is perfectly acceptable for dinner. I can break out a jar of Nutella and a spoon and simply watch repeats of Xena or Airbender without anyone complaining. A simple salad of bok choi with sesame oil and Chinkiang vinegar can be the most relaxing thing ever and I don't have to hold a conversation. I can simply, rudely, bury my nose in a magazine and not give a damn about the world. And, once in a while, I'll go grab a quick Taco Bell taco.

Not all of my meals are so irresponsible. A simple single serving of cooked fruit can be quite relaxing and indulgent. I don't even have to share!

A few cubed up nectarines and berries tossed with a bit of thyme and honey is a particular summer treat that I enjoy making for myself on a lazy Sunday. This morning the necatrines at the Farmer's market were tight and tart the way I like them and begged to be roasted just a little to sweeten them. A little flurry of ground almonds gave the dish a faux crumble crust. I decided to really make it richer with a small pour of heavy cream. A trick my cousin's wife, Cio, taught me that enhances any crumble or cobbler.

This little serving for one with a tall glass of iced oolong tea made for a beautiful breakfast for me, myself, and I which is nice because - between being amongst all the people I love - we needed to catch up a bit.


Baked Summer Fruit
There's no real recipe for this, just a method. Preheat the oven to 350F and lightly butter a baking dish or a few ramekins. In a bowl toss some chopped nectarines or peaches and a handful of berries (your choice on what kind) with a spoonful of honey and 1/2 teaspoon of thyme. Place into the baking dish or ramekins. Dust with some almond meal (though any well chopped nut will do). Bake for 15 minutes. Pour a few tablespoons of heavy cream or milk over the fruit. Serve.

Blackberry Jam

-Jamming season has begun.-

When the dreaded fire started back in the old apartment the very first thing to go were all the jams, syrups, pickles, and preserves I had made during the Spring and Summer. The fire, starting at the stove in the apartment next door, quickly ate through the kitchen wall and into my kitchen cabinets; right into the four flats of homemade canned goods. They did not survive.

The cabinet was apparently one of the few things that was sturdily built because even though the walls and pipes were consumed by the ravenous flame the cabinet stayed up leaving behind the evidence of what ate through the wall. The jars had literally exploded from the heat, black shrapnel scattered across the cabinet floor and even embedded itself into the walls. The jams had splattered and boiled down to a dull pitch crisp as if every surface has been caked with muddy obsidian.

Ironically, it wasn't supposed to have happened. Almost all of that jam had been destined to be turned into Christmas gifts but I had forgotten them back in Sacramento on my drive to Southern California, only remembering somewhere in the middle of a Central Valley drive-thru. I told my family I would mail the jams off to them when I got back. The fire was kind of the epic head-slap after a "D'oh!" moment in this regard.

So the past few weeks I have been on a jamming spree. I've churned out many batches of my apricot and Riesling jam at this point, a batch of apricot vanilla bean (those little bean specks give me such joy), and some rhubarb preserves. The windows are constantly fogged up from the steam of the cans' water baths creating a Floridian microclimate in my apartment. Still, through all the sweat and haze it's quite worth it. The jam is superb.

This last weekend I was lucky enough to have come across blackberries, bulbous and juicy, concentrated in flavor, for cheap at the Farmer's Market. Six overflowing baskets for $10 is something that demands to be jammed. I paid up and quickly took them home in a rush excited at this unique opportunity. Normally, I jam whatever fruit my friends' trees and gardens simply have an overabundance of, rarely do I buy a ton of fruit just to jam. However, this particular fruit situation demanded proactivity and I had never had the chance to jam berries.

The base recipe I used was Lindsey Shere's boysenberry jam recipe in Chez Pannise Desserts. However, I decided to play with it just a little. Blackberries seem to have two popular pairing as of late that I seem to be seeing everywhere: Bourbon and violet (the latter via actual violets, Creme de Violette, or violet extract). I decided to go with the Bourbon as the Creme de Violette was too delicate in flavor to stand up to these ballsy berries.

I measured out a shot glass of Bourbon and tossed in a bit of homemade vanilla extract into a pot of barely mashed berries and enough sugar to comatose a six year old. About a half hour later I had jam. Amazing jam. The bourbon added a subtle spice behind the fruit, and the vanilla added a slight creaminess. Just... oh lord, the best blackberry jam ever. So good you giggle to yourself when you taste it.

To you jammers and canners out there with access to black or boysenberries be sure to give this a shot. You won't be disappointed.

-Tasty trio of jam. (I ate all the rhubarb ones already. Oops.)-

Blackberry Jam (With a Hint of Bourbon)

2.5 lbs of blackberries
1 lb of sugar
2 tablespoons of lemon juice
1/4 teaspoon of butter (this helps for clarity and prevents foaming)
3 tablespoons of Bourbon (or one shot glass worth)
1 teaspoon of vanilla extract

1. Wash the blackberries and toss them into a stainless steel or copper pot, or a enamel lined dutch oven (not an aluminum pot). Lightly mash the berries with a wooden spoon. Add the rest of the ingredients and stir. Let macerate for about 10 minutes. Place a small plate in the freezer as this will be used for testing later.

2. Turn heat to medium-high. The mixture will bubble and froth vigorously. Skim the foam off the top and discard (or save it and put it on cheese or yogurt; super tasty). The boil will subside to larger bubbles, but still bubble vigorously. Be sure to begin gently stirring the jam frequently to prevent it from sticking to the bottom.

3. After about 25 minutes begin testing the jam by placing a small amount on the cold plate. Allow 30 seconds to pass and then run your finger through it to see what the cooled consistency will be. Boil for a few minutes longer if desired for a thicker jam.

4. Ladle into hot, sterilized canning jars and seal leaving 1/4 inch of head space. Wipe the rims of the jars clean before applying the lids. Screw on the rings to finger-tight. Work quickly. Process in a water bath to ensure a good seal. If you want you can skip the water bath and just screw the lids on tight where the heating-cooling process will create a vacuum seal, but the water bath is a surefire method for a secure seal.

*To sterilize the jars, rinse out clean Mason jars, dry them, and place them, without lids, upright in a 200°F oven for 10 minutes. To sterilize the lids put them in a shallow bowl and pour boiling water over them.

My Blogday & Vanilla Thyme Cupcakes with Vanilla Cream Cheese Frosting

Today Vanilla Garlic turns 2. Which is odd, I mean looking at a calendar it all makes sense. 731 days (one extra for the leap year) have come and gone. Yet, it feels like much, much longer than that. A lot has happened in the course of two years. More than I would have expected, and things were never expected seem to constantly occur.

It's astonishing really.

But no big celebration this year. I'm playing it low key. No need to upset the blog, it's in it's Terrible 2's. Anything can happen this next go-around.

Still, we can't have a birthday without a cake. With finals finishing, my brain is too tired for anything groundbreaking. Simple and tasty will do, which is where we find this cupcake.

It's based off of one from Cheryl, her 3 Vanilla cupcake. I've just gone and added some fresh thyme to it. Fine crumb and simple flavors that, when combined, become complex and soothing. If this blog wasn't called Vanilla Garlic it would be Vanilla Thyme, but that's a bit to punny for me.

Happy Blogday to me.Vanilla-Thyme Cupcakes
Makes 20 cupcakes / 350F oven

3/4 cup (1-1/2 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature
1-2/3 cups vanilla sugar
2 large eggs, room temperature
2-2/3 cups flour
1-1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup + 2 tablespoons milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 vanilla bean, seeds scraped out
2 teaspoons of loosely packed, fresh thyme

1) Beat the butter and sugar together for a few minutes until light and fluffy.

2) Add the eggs, one at a time, beating in each for 30 seconds.

3) Measure the flour, baking powder, salt and thyme into one bowl.

4) Measure the milk, vanilla bean scrapings, and vanilla into another bowl.

5) Add about a third of the dry ingredients to the butter/sugar and beat to combine. Add about a half of the milk/vanilla and beat to combine. Continue adding, alternating between dry and wet and finishing with the dry.

6) Scoop into cupcake papers about 2/3 full. Bake for 22-25 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean. Allow to cool on wire racks. When completely cool, frost with cream cheese frosting.

Vanilla Bean Cream Cheese Frosting
For the frosting, I used my basic recipe, and added the scrapings from 1/2 of a vanilla bean.

Banana Strawberry Cupcakes with Cream Cheese Frosting

Dear readers, I apologize. Profusely. With utmost sincerity. It's just that I've been so busy and distracted. Part of it is due to school and work. I'm in the throws of finals, and I have a GPA and 20 page papers that are making me fuss and worry. Well, actually, school is just all encompassing all the time. I just haven't had time for cupcakes.

Plus, baking wise, I have been exploring other new routes and recipes with my work over at Simply Recipes. These projects have just taken me away from cupcakes, which I am glad for as I am becoming a better baker for it. Though there still is a nagging feeling of neglect for the cupcakes I love so much. Plus, as many ideas for cupcake recipes as I have had, I just haven't had one that really gave me drive or inspiration.

Compound that with work on my own blog, the magazine, and my actual day job, I'm a bit of a busy bee. Rob and my friends are concerned I'm going to stroke out or have a heart attack or ulcer due to the stress, which I have never handled well to begin with.

However, I recently stumbled onto the blog, Tartlette, and after reading every single one of her posts (which badly cut into time I should have been studying) I found some new inspiration, and budgeted out a night to for these cupcakes.

This delicious cupcake takes it's bare base measurements from Tartlette's recipe for Banana Rhubarb cupcakes. The difference here is the swap of rhubarb for strawberries, lemon for orange zest, and vanilla sugar in lieu of spices. For the most part I was thoroughly happy with this cupcake; rich in banana flavor, very dense, with nice bits of strawberry that, after being baked, had a great almost jam like quality to them. Add in the subtle hints of soothing vanilla, and the inexplicably delicious taste of cream cheese frosting (proof that not only does God exist, he likes to bake) it's a winner and a perfect cure for Spring fever.

The cupcake thus gets a special dedication to Jill and Rob who have been great in helping me focus and stay centered and realize that everything will work out. =)
(And yes, Jill, I will make a batch just for you.)
Banana Strawberry Cupcakes
Makes 20 Cupcakes / 350 F

What You'll Need...
3 cups flour
1 cup vanilla sugar (or substitute regular sugar)
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 teaspoon of salt
3 eggs
3/4 cup vegetable oil
1 tsp. vanilla extract
grated zest of one lemon
2 bananas, mashed
1 cup of chopped strawberries

What You'll Do...
Preheat oven to 350 F.

Combine the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt in a large bowl.

In a separate bowl, stir the eggs and the oil. Add the bananas, rhubarb and orange zest.

Add to the dry ingredients and stir just until combined. Spoon into cupcake papers, about 3/4th's full and bake 25-30 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out clean. Cool in a wire rack and frost.

You can find the recipe for my Cream Cheese Frosting here.

Blueberry & Sour Cream Coffeecake

A friend of mine has a small green house where she recently coaxed a bushel of blueberries out in the very early throes of March. Amazing, no? So when she offered me some, there was no way I was going to turn her down. Blueberries are one of my favorite fruits, their deep hues, summer time taste, the memories I associate with them, frenetically popping them into my mouth with such eager gusto. I decided to make some spring-y with them, a sort of baking magic spell to help coax warmer weather in a bit earlier this year.

This is a delicious coffeecake that enchants anyone who tries it. It’s a traditional coffeecake with its delicious cinnamon-brown sugar swirl, but the addition of blueberries gives it a nice burst of fresh flavor.

I know blueberries aren't in season (maybe in Chile) but really, some thawed out frozen blueberries are great, and lend itself to a nice taste of warmer days still to come.

Blueberry Sour Cream Coffeecake
Makes 20 cupcakes / 350 F oven

What You’ll Need…
3/4 cup of butter
1 1/2 cups of sugar
2 eggs
1 cup of sour cream
1 teaspoon of vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups of all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon of baking powder
1/4 teaspoon of salt
1 cup fresh or frozen blueberries
1/2 cup of brown sugar
1 teaspoon of cinnamon
Powdered sugar for garnish

What You'll Do...
1) Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. In a large bowl cream together the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in the eggs one at a time, beating for 30 seconds after each.

2) Mix in the sour cream and the vanilla extract, mix well.

3) Combine the flour, baking powder, and salt together in a bowl. Mix into the batter until just incorporated.

4) Fold in the blueberries, being sure not to break or crush them. Roughly fold in the brown sugar and cinnamon, being sure it stays in large swirls of cinnamony-sugar goodness.

5) Spoon into a 13x9 pan which has been lightly greased and floured. Bake for 30-35 minutes at 350F. Allow to cool on a wire rack. Dust with powdered sugar and serve.

Variations…

Feel free to switch the blueberries out for other berries. Chopped rhubarb is fantastic in this as well during spring.

A variety of other spices might work here which could allow departure from a traditional coffee cake, such as ground ginger or even a chai spice mix.

Black Bottom Cupcakes

Black bottom cupcakes are total classic Americana. Like chocolate and peanut butter cupcakes or tomato soup cake, many of us grew up with this classic dessert that came out of mom's oven. It's surprising you don't see these classics more often, but over time they've been pushed over by hipper, more contemporary flavor combinations.

I admit I'm guilty of this myself, new flavors can be so much fun to play with and the creation process is more entertaining than a clown car on fire, but there is something to be said for the classics.

Their elegant simplicity.

You can usually depend on your pantry for the ingredients as none of them are ever exotic or expensive. They're often simple recipes, and easy to put together. The perfect recipes for parents to teach their children.

However, the black bottom cupcake's taste is unique and unrivaled. Dark chocolaty cake, with sweetened cream cheese and chunks of chocolate? Common, throw this into an old tin lunch pail with a PB&J, an apple, and a box of juice and you are so set. It's the kind of dessert that brings out the child in you, and makes your children all the happier. You can guarantee they won't be trading lunches with any of their classmates.

I admit, I did put a bit of a modern tweak to this, I split the cream cheese mixture in half and while one half got chocolate, in the other I mixed in blackberry preserves. Fruit and cream cheese just go so well together and with chocolate cake, what's not to love? Both versions are great and should help please everyone you feed them too. They're perfect served with a big glass of milk.

If you're new to baking, looking for culinary trip down memory lane, or teaching a young baker in the kitchen this is the richest and tastiest way to go!

Black Bottom Cupcakes
Makes 21 cupcakes / 350 F oven

What You'll Need...
1 8oz package of cream cheese, softened
1 egg, room temperature
1/3 cup of sugar, plus 1 additional cup
1/2 cup of chocolate chips, roughly chopped
2 teaspoons of blackberry jam
1 1/2 cups of all-purpose flour
1/3 cup of unsweetened cocoa powder
1 teaspoon of baking powder
1/2 teaspoon of salt
1 cup of water
1/3 cup of vegetable oil
1 tablespoon of apple cider vinegar or white vinegar
1 teaspoon of vanilla extract

What You'll Do...
1) Preheat oven to 350 F.
2) In a bowl, combine the cream cheese, egg, and 1/3 cup of sugar and beat until light and fluffy. Split the batter in half, add the chocolate chips to one and the blackberry jam to the other.
3) In a large bowl sift the dry ingredients together. Make a well in the center and pour in the wet ingredients. Mix until just blended.
4) Fill the cupcake papers (or you can lightly grease with cooking spray a cupcake/muffin tray) 1/3 full with the chocolate mixture. Drop in a good dollop of the one of the cream cheese mixtures. Bake for 20-25 minutes. The cheese may depress into the cupcake a bit but don't worry about it.

Strawberry Cupcake - Five Ways

I've always wanted to do a fancy petit fours (or in this case fives) kinda' dessert or appetizer. It just seems so swanky and chic. Penelope came over to spend the day with me so we could catch up and just be bitches, and I wanted to involve her in this project. It was fun, exotic, and just in time for Valentine's Day!

The cupcake was odd; it was fruity but didn't resound of strawberry. It was a quandary, too hard to describe, but it was good none the less. Plus it came out an odd grey-purple color. The frosting luckily resounded of strawberry and really backed up that pink color. The cupcake tasted of strawberries. Ah but lets move on to the flavors...

Balsamic and Black Pepper Reduction
This was the favorite by far. The idea came to me as during summer, Rob and I do the Italian thing and macerate our strawberries in balsamic vinegar and pepper. We made this into a reduction and drizzled it on the cupcake. Pow! Zing! Pop! The reduction develops a surprisingly slight, lemony pizazz that pleasantly contradicts the strawberry flavors. It dazzled the senses.

Cilantro
This was the flavor we were really eager to try and at the same time understandably weary. Strawberries and cilantro actually share many of the same flavor compounds, thus they compliment each other nicely. The cupcake is sweet, but the single peppery leaf whispers in the back on the mouth and creates a nice finish.

Chocolate & Pink Salt
We at first used only a dark 60% cacao chocolate and that was pleasing. Chocolate and strawberries. Pink and black. It's classic. The addition of pink salt elevated this to a new platform of flavor; it enriched the chocolate to new heights.

Himalayan Pink Salt
Salt naturally enhances flavor, and it does no different here. It accented the strawberry flavors, ans the salt went wonderfully with the sweet. It's was definitely the wild card of the plate.

Orange & Cointreau
Orange oils and the orange liqueur mixed into a syrup created a fruity, cavity inducingly rich, and viscous lushness to the cupcake. Orange and strawberry go well together in strawberries romanoff so we knew the royal flavors this conveyed would give it presence amongst the other cupcakes with more bite.

Strawberry Cupcakes
Makes 36 mini cupcakes -or- 12 regular cupcakes
Adapted From Rickpoon Flickr and E Cupcake

What You'll Need...
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 cup sugar
2 large eggs, room temperature
1-1/3 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup strawberry sauce (see below)
1/4 cup milk

What You'll Do...
1) Beat butter on high until soft, about 30 seconds. Add sugar. Beat on medium-high until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes.

2) Add eggs one at a time, beat for 30 seconds between each.

3) Whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt in a bowl. Measure out milk and strawberry sauce together. Add about a fourth of the flour to the butter/sugar mixture and beat to combine. Add about one third the milk/strawberry sauce mixture and beat until combined. Repeat above, alternating flour and milk and ending with the flour mixture.

4) Scoop into cupcake papers about half to three-quarters full (depending on whether you want flat or domed cupcakes). Bake for 20-22 minutes at 350F until a cake tester comes out clean. If using a mini cupcake tin, bake for 8-10 minutes and use Pam For Baking to grease the pan. Scoop into slots until three-quarters full.


Strawberry Cream Cheese Frosting
What You'll Need...
8 ounces or 1 package of cream cheese
1/2 stick butter
4 cups sifted powdered sugar
approximately 1/4 cup of strawberry sauce

What You'll Do...
1) Bring cheese and butter to room temperature by letting it sit out for 1 or 2 hours. Sift powdered sugar into a bowl.

2) Beat butter and cheese at medium speed until creamy. Add half of the sugar, beat until combined. Add strawberry sauce until you achieve the right color and flavor, making sure not to add too much or the frosting will be too soft. Gradually add remaining sugar (more if you have to) until you get to the consistency and sweetness you like.


Strawberry Sauce
What You'll Need...
2 cups of fresh strawberries, cut in half and stem removed
sugar to taste

What You'll Do...
1) Macerate strawberries with about 1-2 tbs sugar for 15 minutes.

2) Put strawberries in a small saucepan and heat under medium heat with lid on. Cook strawberries for approximately 15 minutes till strawberries cook down and become soft and saucy. Adjust sweetness with sugar until you get the desired sweetness.

3) Using a hand blender, puree until you get the desired smoothness or chunkiness. Cool before using in recipe.


Orange Cointreau Syrup
What You'll Need...
1/2 cup of Cointreau
4 good strips of orange zest
1/2 cup of sugar

What You'll Do...
Combine all over medium heat until bubbling and all sugar has dissolved. Turn heat to low and let bubble for 5-8 minutes. Let cool, it should be a thick syrup. Drizzle on cupcake.

Balsamic Reduction
Take a 1/2 cup of balsamic vinegar and a few grinds of black pepper and let come to a boil at high heat. Reduce to low and let reduce for 15-20 minutes or until the sauce coats the back of a spoon. Drizzle on cupcake.

Chocolate, Salt, and Cilantro
Sprinkle on the salt. Place a leaf or two of cilantro on the cupcake. Melt chocolate in microwave or double boiler and drizzle on cupcake.

See Flickr Set Here