Bourbon Cherry Brownies (Gluten-Free!)

Brownies paired with whiskey. True Love.

Last summer we made a batch of cherry bounce – cherry-infused bourbon – from sweet summer cherries. We shoved them to the back of the refrigerator and promptly forgot about them – or at least tried to forget about them. It’s hard to forget about bourbon and ripe, deep red cherries even when they’re hidden behind the milk and eggs.

Remember this beautiful stuff? We made it again.

The results were ready for Christmas. We shared the wine-dark bourbon with family and friends. The burgundy liquor was festive: a good color for deep winter holidays.

But what of the cherries?  The cherries were for us.

Red and delicious

The cherries lost the edge off their vibrant red, but retained their juicy flesh and took on the complex aromas and psycho-pharmacological qualities of Kentucky bourbon. Boozy cherries? Don’t mind if I do.

Big chocolate chunks for big chocolate ooze

The cherries had a different fate.  Fortified by their alcohol content, they waited in the dark recesses of our fridge.  Now it’s Valentine’s Day, another holiday for baking. It’s time for warm, gooey bars and cookies, eaten straight from the oven with your love. It’s time for brownies eaten in slow sensuous bites. So, the two were united in an act of love: boozy, drunken cherries and dark, bitter chocolate slowly heated side by side in a fudge-y brownie batter.  The bourbon cooked off slowly in the oven, leaving a hint of fruity sour mash.  A new beginning for a new love.

Warm brownies for a cold day

We recommend pairing the brownies on a romantic evening.  Pair them after dinner with straight bourbon whiskey.  Pair them at midnight with champagne.  Pair them in the morning with Irish coffee.

Share some warm boozy brownies when you snuggle up on a cold Valentines' Day

Project 365, Day 8: Egg fried rice is comfort food

Raphe asked for it this morning and I was happy to oblige. When I’m stressed out, overworked or just a little blue, I almost always make myself fried rice. It’s quick. It’s simple. It’s satisfying.

It helps make a crappy week seem a little bit further away.

Sinigang, heavy on the ginger

This is a submission to the Kulinarya Cooking Club July 2011 challenge. The theme, “Sinigang” was chosen by Trissa of Trissalicious and Trisha of Sugarlace. For more information, visit the Kulinarya Cooking Club blog.

 

By the time this post posts I’ll be on my way to Zamboanga City, Philippines, for some family time.  It seems fitting, then, to begin blogging again with a Kulinarya Cooking Club challenge.   Especially with such a scrumptios theme.

 

A bowl of yummy on a rainy Friday evening

For a while there, soup was just not going to happen in the Kensington Kitchen.  No way.  No how.

When I woke up to a legitimately chilly breeze and grey overcast sky on Friday morning, though, my thoughts drifted towards this month’s Kulinarya challenge: sinigang.

Bok choy stalks are almost like celery in taste and texture - and they smell awesome while sautéing

Sinigang is yet another of those foods I neglected to learn the name of when I was a kid.  I ate it happily and  referred to it vaguely as “that soup with bok choy.”  The association between the two things – bok choy and soup – is strong.  The first time I saw bok choy at a farmers’ market in New Mexico I bought a whole pound for soup – sinigang, as it turns out.

That was the first and last time I made sinigang in the last eight years.

Fish chopped into bite-size pieces.

This week, I called my mom for a refresher course.  We went through the list of ingredients: pork or fish (essential), bok choy (essential), tomatoes (optional), ginger (essential), tamarind (optional), green onions or scallions (essential).

One of my favorite things about “bok choy soup” is that it’s a delicious meal filled with veggies that could easily fit into even a Food Stamps budget (I wish I’d remembered to make it when I was on the government dole).  I made a special run to the Hong Kong Supermarket in Chinatown on the way home from work on Friday, spent $8 and got enough food to make sinigang for 10 people.

Bringing the broth and firm veggies to a boil before adding fish always them to soften slighty

I went with mom’s deluxe version – fish, bok choy, tomatoes, ginger, green onions, tamarind, sea salt – and added some dried mushrooms and soy sauce to round out the broth.  The ginger is what makes the dish sing.  For me it hit home on a rainy night – I inhaled two bowls with rice.  Raphe proclaimed the broth “too fishy” and stopped after one.

Oh, well.  More for me.

Colorful and healthy with a final dollop of tamarind paste

Fried Rice: The Ultimate Multicultural Food

When you’re done here, check out the rest of the Bicultural Mom blog carnival on multicultural awareness!

As a child of a multicultural family, fried rice holds a special place in my heart.  While keeping the flavors and ingredients of my own families’ food near and dear, it provides the ultimate canvas for experimenting with flavors and ingredients from other countries and cultures.

Kielbasa and cabbage fried rice

Fried rice was never a “special” meal in my Filipino-American household.  Rather, it was a common occurence after family gatherings and holidays like Easter or Thanksgiving.  Events with a surplus of roasted meat and steamed jasmine rice.   Some families had hotdish or stew to clean out those kinds of leftovers – we had fried rice.

Eggs make it breakfast, right?

Pierogies on the side

Cube it up into little nibble-size pieces

Our fried rice had no bounds – honey glazed ham, hamonada, roast turkey, bratwurst, Spam, chicken breast, lima beans, corn, peas, carrots, cole-slaw mix – it all went in with a couple of scrambled eggs, soy sauce and garlic.  Filipino, Spanish, Chinese and American cuisine all rolled into one warm comforting dish.

Saute the onions, then the veggies and pre-cooked sausage. Your nose will thank you.

Today, I keep the multicultural fried rice tradition alive in my Pakistani-Polish-Mexican neighborhood in Brooklyn, NY.   Jasmine rice is hard to come by, so I’ve embraced the longer grained basmati rice favored by my Pakistani neighbors.  After six years in New Mexico, my palette still cries out for chiles, so we crank up the heat on an otherwise mild, savory dish.  Raphe will roast Southern-style chickens with paprika and beer on a regular basis, throwing the beer drippings into the rice cooker.  The rice, chicken and even the gravy end up in fried rice a few days later.

Crack the eggs right in there. This is a one skillet meal.

Lazy Day Cassoulet and Baby Spinach Salad with Cherry Vinegrette

Goodbye, Winter.

It’s been a good few months. You’ve given us much lovely snow, but much drippy rain. It’s probably best that we go our separate ways.

You’ve aided and abetted many an early night in (not to mention the late mornings). You’ve inspired cookies, muffins, soups and stews. You make that bread hot from the oven just that more tempting. We’ve spent whole lazy weekends under your spell.

We’ve made you one last savory baked dinner. You’ve been begging for a casserole, so we spent one more lazy day in the kitchen for you. We sauteed that holy trinity of French flavors (onions, celery and carrots) in fat rendered from salty bacon, rich chicken legs and sweet bratwurst. We baked the meat under a thick layer of tomatoes and white beans until the chicken practically melted off the bone. Oh, and we topped it with garlic breadcrumbs (your favorite, we know). It warmed the house as it baked all afternoon. We hope you like it (we certainly did).

But it’s time for us bid you adieu. We’ll see you again next year.

Love,
Us

**********

Hello, Spring.

It’s been a while and we’ve missed you. The sun’s almost become a stranger in these short few months.

We’ve been dreaming about your early mornings and late afternoons. We’re yearning for fresh, tender leaves and bright buds.

We know it’s a bit soon for this, but we made you a little something. We hope it doesn’t scare you off, but it helps us remember what it’s like to be warm again. Crisp spinach and tangy goat cheese are such a tease. Toasty walnuts crunch under our teeth and sweet cherry vinegar (made from the cherries we got from you last June) nips at our tongues. We hope you like it (we certainly did).

Hope to see you around here more often.

Love,
Us

Notes: Don’t be intimidated by the length of the ingredient list. The important thing to note is that you’re using some aromatic veggies and meat as a base for the beans. The actual veggies and meat isn’t so important: cassoulet isn’t a fussy dish. We made a lot of changes to the recipe as we went along, since it was hard to follow while we cooked. We added an ingredient list and split the process into four basic sections common to casseroles: 1. Prep, 2. Brown, 3. Bake, 4. Finish. We used a dutch oven, but this could just as easily begin in a skillet and be transferred to a casserole dish or crock pot after the “Brown” steps.