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home made bagels

Let’s make some bagels, can we? Yes we can! For starters, today is my birthday, and on my birthday we can do anything we want. We can eat cake for breakfast and bagels for lunch and because it’s my birthday the calories don’t count. Please remember that I have an actual degree in nutrition, so if I say it, it must be true. Bagels for everyone!

Also, it’s pretty easy to make your own bagels at home and you will impress yourselves and everyone who you hand a fresh home made bagel to. These bad boys have been on my culinary bucket list for eons, and I really don’t know why I thought that making them was so intimidating. Maybe because you have to boil them which means that there are, like, *two* steps to the bagel cooking process. But you’ve boiled things before, right? Pasta? Potatoes? Eggs? Boiling bagels is no big deal. 

I won’t lie, you need to set aside some time for bagel making, and, since they are best if they’ve been left to cure in the fridge overnight, you need to plan a little in advance. But, like boiling things, we plan ahead all the time, right? Hey, what are you doing tomorrow? Making bagels!

I got over my bagel baking fear when I saw that three of my favourite spaces on the internet had each posted a bagel recipe, all from the same source. Here, here, and here. Give them a read, they’ve got some good info. What I have posted here is the same recipe with some personal tips. The most important thing is for you to read the recipe from start to finish before you start. That way you’ll know you’re supposed to let the bagels sit on the counter for 20 minutes before you put them in the fridge, and you won’t be pulling chilled bagels out of the fridge in a mad panic and hoping you haven’t effed them up too badly (don’t worry, you won’t have). So go ahead, give it a good read, and then go get your bagel on. Happy birthday to me!

One year ago: Savoy Slaw

Home Made Bagels Recipe:

Recipe from The Bread Baker’s Apprentice by Peter Reinhart

A note about flour – this recipe recommends high gluten bread flour. If you live in Canada your All Purpose flour has a much higher gluten content than does AP flour in other parts of the world, so you’re good to go. If you live in the US or in Europe the gluten content in AP flour is generally much lower and I would suggest getting a higher gluten flour or bread flour. If you’re in Sweden look for Special Vetemjöl, which has a higher gluten content than regular vetemjöl, or look for a bag of Manitoba Cream, which is a high gluten bread flour from Canada (what what!).

If you’re going to top your bagels with seeds or anything else you may want to consider adding an egg wash. I didn’t, and I lost a good amount of the seeds off of the tops. Next time I think I will try gluing the toppings down.

If you have a stand mixer with a dough hook, this is a good place to use it. If you don’t, you’re going to get a nice forearm workout, this dough is stiff! But tough it out, the results will be well worth the effort.

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For the sponge:

1 tsp instant yeast

4 cups high gluten or bread flour

2 1/2 cups room temperature water

For the dough:

1/2 tsp instant yeast

3 3/4 cups high gluten or bread flour, divided

2 3/4 tsp salt

2 tsp honey, molasses, or malt syrup (I used honey)

For finishing:

1 Tbsp baking soda

oil for the trays

desired bagel toppings

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To make the sponge, in the bowl of a stand mixer or in a large mixing bowl, combine the flour, yeast, and water into a wet, shaggy dough. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and let stand for 2 hours. The sponge should have about doubled in size and the surface should be covered in bubbles when it is ready.

In the same bowl add from the dough ingredients the yeast, 3 cups of flour, honey, and salt. Mix well. Now you’re going to knead in the remaining 3/4 cups of flour, a bit at a time. If you’ve got a mixer, run it on low with the dough hook and add the flour about 1/4 cup at a time, kneading well between additions. If you’re kneading by hand, you’ll want to knead it in a bit at a time, and don’t give up! We want to knead this dough for about 6 minutes by machine, or 10 by hand. The kneaded dough should feel soft and silky, and be pliable but not sticky.

Divide the dough into 16 even pieces – I weighed my dough with my kitchen scale, divided the number by 16, and then weighed the bits to ensure they were even. My dough bits were around 115 – 120g each. Form each piece of dough into a smooth ball and set it on the counter top. Cover the balls with a clean, slightly damp kitchen towel, and let rest for about 20 minutes.

Prepare your baking trays. Line two trays with parchment paper, and brush the parchment lightly with oil. When you are ready to start forming your bagels, take a dough ball and holding it with both hands, push your thumbs through the center. Work your hands around the dough with your thumbs on the inside and your fingers on the outside, widening the hole evenly. Place the formed bagel on the prepared tray, and repeat, ensuring you leave about 5cm between bagels. When all of the bagels are formed, brush them very lightly with oil and then cover lightly with plastic wrap (I used plastic shopping bags, two on each tray) and let them rest on the counter top for 20 minutes.

Now you’re ready to ‘retard’ your bagels. They should go into the fridge for at least 2 hours, but you can leave them for up to 48 hours. I left mine in the fridge over night.

Bagel baking time! Preheat your oven to 250 C / 500F. Fill your biggest, widest pot with water, and bring to a boil. When the water is boiling add 1 Tbsp of baking soda to the water. Now add bagels to the pot a few at a time. My largest pot was wide enough to accommodate 4 bagels at a time. Boil for 1 minute on each side (or, as I did, 2 minutes on each side for chewier bagels), then remove from the water with a slotted spoon and replace on the same oiled parchment lined tray that they came from. Repeat with all bagels. If you’re going to add toppings (I used a blend of sesame seeds and coarse salt) add them immediately when the bagels are removed from the water.

Place trays of boiled bagels into the preheated oven. Bake for 5 minutes, then rotate the trays both 180 degrees AND up to down if you’re baking more than one tray at a time. Bake for another 5 minutes. I needed to bake my bagels for an additional ten minutes (rotating again after 5 min) before they were browned to my satisfaction.

Remove bagels from the oven and cool on a wire rack for at least 15 minutes before slicing. Enjoy!

All text and photos © The Muffin Myth 2012

tom yam soup

Tom Yam soup. I’ve always seen this soup referred to as Tom Yum, but our instructor and recipe booklet both call it Tom Yam, so that’s what I’m going with. If you find yourself in Chiang Mai and are looking for a great cooking class, let me suggest May Kaidee’s Thai vegetarian cooking class. The original May Kaidee restaurant and cooking school is in Bangkok; her sister, our instructor, opened a second branch in Chiang Mai about five years ago.

What really amazed me about our Thai cooking class was that no dish we made took much longer than five minutes to put together. I had always assumed that the bold and bright flavours of Thai cuisine would require long cooking times and a lengthy ingredient list; how wrong I was. Of course, we had chopped all of the vegetables we would be using in advance which made things very speedy. But couldn’t we do that at home too?

In my home salads are dinner on Monday and Wednesday nights. On Monday as I was chopping vegetables for the salads I kept a Tupperware container on the counter beside the cutting board and when I was chopping a vegetable I thought I’d also like for my soup, I chopped a bit extra and tossed it in. Snow peas, carrot, red and green onion, cauliflower, tomato, and red pepper all went in my veggie container. When we made this soup in Thailand we also included fresh baby corn sliced lengthwise, kale, and these fabulous crunchy brown mushrooms our instructor said were called ‘mouse ears’.

On Tuesday I made myself this soup for dinner. Armed with my container of pre-chopped veggies it did indeed come together in a matter of minutes, and it tasted every bit as good as I remember it being in Thailand. All I had to do is dice up some tofu, measure the sauces and spices, and throw it all together in a pot.

On the ingredients let me say this: we brought a good amount of them back from Thailand, but you should be able to find most things in your grocery store or Asian food store. Here in Stockholm there is a small Asian food store in our neighbourhood and there I can find fresh lemon grass, kaffir lime leaves, and galangal (Thai ginger). In this particular soup I ended up using (frozen) fresh lemon grass because we had bought some for another dish and had it in the freezer. The lime leaves and galangal I used were dried, schlepped back from Thailand. This recipe also calls for chili paste in oil – we bought a vegetarian version in a Thai market, but it’s a common enough ingredient that you should be able to find a jar of it wherever you are. If you want to make your own, Jessica has posted a recipe which I intend to try when our jar runs out (assuming I’ve acquired a food processor by that time).

This fast and easy soup is going to become a regular menu item in our home; we’re already planning to make it for dinner again tomorrow night. I hope you give it a try!

Tom Yam Soup Recipe:

Recipe adapted from May Kaidee’s vegetarian cooking school

The recipe below is for one large or two smaller servings of soup. You can easily double or triple the recipe and make a big pot of soup for a crowd.

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2 cups water

2 kaffir lime leaves, torn

2 half inch pieces of lemon grass, bashed a bit with the back of a knife

Chili for personal flavour (I used a dried chili, but fresh is better)

1-2 cups of chopped mixed vegetables of your choice, including 1/4 cup each chopped tomato and onion

1/4 cup cubed tofu

1/2 Tbsp dark soy sauce

1 Tbsp light soy sauce

1 tsp raw brown sugar

1 tsp Tom Yam chili paste (chili paste in oil)

1 Tbsp each chopped spring onion and cilantro leaves

1 Tbsp fresh squeezed lime juice

1 Tbsp milk, or coconut milk for a vegan soup

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Bring water to a boil in a medium pot. Add lime leaves, galangal, lemon grass, and chili. If you are using dried spices boil for a couple of minutes, otherwise proceed to the next step right away.

Add chopped mixed vegetables and tofu. Stir a few times, and watch that the mixture comes back up to a boil.

Once boiling add soy sauces, sugar, and chili paste, and mix well.

Turn off the heat once the vegetables are tender. Add green onions, cilantro, lime juice, and milk or coconut milk. Serve immediately.

If you want to make Tom Kha soup, follow the same recipe but slightly reduce the water and increase coconut milk to 1/2 cup, or to taste, at the end.

All text and photos © The Muffin Myth 2012


Chiang Mai was, hands down, my favourite part of the trip. Much of Thailand’s trekking industry is based out of Chiang Mai, and a short trek was high up on my must do list, as was a Thai cooking class. I definitely did not want to rent a motorcycle in busy city traffic. As it turned out, after learning a little bit more about trekking and what it means for the welfare of elephants and tribal communities, we decided against it. If I go back to Chiang Mai, which I really hope to do some day, I will instead visit to this amazing sounding (and highly recommended) elephant rescue organization, which was unfortunately fully booked for the time we were in the area.

Instead of trekking what did we do? We rented a motorcycle. I know, exactly what I didn’t want to do. But you know what? Totally my favourite part. With our motorcycle and a map and Paul’s brave driving and mad navigation skills, we went bombing around Chiang Mai and the surrounding areas. We went temple hopping, looked at ancient ruins, took sketchy single lane roads that looked like maybe they would lead somewhere interesting. Sometimes they did, sometimes they didn’t. One time we ended up on a dirt road so steep I had to jump off the back of the bike in order for it to get up to the top of the hill – that road lead us nowhere. We got to see the big glitzy temples jam packed with tourists, and we saw quiet, lovely, peaceful, organic temples with absolutely no one around. We’d stop when we saw something interesting, wander around for a bit, take a few pictures, then get back on the bike and move on. It was perfect.

We spent one lovely day in a Thai cooking class. We ended up taking a class run by a vegetarian restaurant just around the corner from our guest house. We started in the restaurant in the morning prepping some of the ingredients and chopping vegetables for the dishes we would be making. After the prep was done we were loaded into the back of a songthaew and headed off to a large market where we shopped for some more ingredients and had a market tour. After the market we continued on our way, about 15km out of town, and ended up at our instructor’s house in a farming area, where they had set up a cooking classroom in their back yard under a shady pavilion. We learned 12 dishes in all, some of which I’ll be sharing here shortly.

After our cooking class we decided to hit up some of the markets closer to our guest house and load up on ingredients to pack home. Wandering the markets was a definite highlight for me on this trip. The sights, the sounds, the smells, it was all so different from anything I’d ever experienced before. We stumbled upon a spice vendor who had all kinds of weird and wonderful things and Paul insisted on getting pretty well one of everything. We got dried chilies, powders, pastes, sauces. They had it, we bought it. It became quickly clear we were going to run out of space in our luggage so we did the only logical thing we could think of: we bought more luggage.

We found new luggage where one can find pretty much anything in Chiang Mai – at the night bazaar. The night bazaar was crazy. Frantic. Fabulous. We went three nights in a row. I loved it. I loved it so much, in fact, that I don’t have one single picture of it. I think I did take my camera on the first night but it was just too jammed with people that stopping to take my beast of a camera out wasn’t an option. A friend had asked me to get her a pashmina if I saw one, and so I got badly addicted to haggling with scarf sellers. I’d walk away from a stall all incensed because the seller would refuse to give me three for 100 Bhat. Then I’d give my head a shake and realize I was haggling over pennies. Plus, I was repeatedly the ‘first customer of the night’ and got offered a ‘very special price’, so really it was no big deal. I picked up some really fabulous art – oil paintings by a great artist I felt really good about buying from. And I continuously got ripped off on knock off designer sunglasses – I think I went through three pairs on the trip. We discovered a kitchen supply store and got some loot to go with our spices, including a big deep mortar and pestle. We filled our new luggage so full with sauces and spices and scarves and kitchen gadgets that when we checked in at the Chiang Mai airport it was literally bursting at the seams and we had to get it wrapped in plastic to make sure everything would make it.

We took in some Muay Thai kickboxing, which was beautiful and savage. We saw eight fights, seven of which ended in knockouts. And a couple of the contestants were, like, out, for a good chunk of time. No fakesies. I don’t have any pictures of that either. We rode in tuk tuks. Lots of them. We got suckered into buying roses from little children and then wandered the evening streets and left them on spirit houses. We sat on quite possibly the most uncomfortable bar stools of all time. We ate. We ate. And we ate.

I have a lot to say about the food in Chiang Mai and a recipe to share, but that, I think, belongs in a post of its own – this one is getting looooong. I’ll be back with that post in a flash. Promise!

One year ago: Tipico and not so Tipico

All text and photos © The Muffin Myth 2012


Thailand, Thailand, Thailand . . .  where to begin, but at the beginning? 12 hours before we were due to leave we got a call letting us know that our flight to Bangkok had been cancelled, but we were assured our return flight was a-okay. So we can’t get there, but we can get home? Thanks? After a few hours of stress new flights were sorted and we were on hour way about 12 hours later than we were due to have gone. We had taken a gamble on booking a domestic flight which left only a few hours after we would have arrived, so that flight had to be cancelled and re-booked at our expense. In all, over two and a half weeks of traveling we had a total of ten flights; seven of which were cancelled or significantly delayed. ‘Tis the season, I suppose. In any case, after a cancellation, a delay, and another delay we finally made it to our first destination.

Koh Chang was, in my opinion, unremarkable. I realized too late that there are in fact *two* islands in Thailand called Koh Chang, and the one that had been recommended to us was not the one we ended up on.  It was nice enough, warm, pleasant beach, but nothing special. It was a resort town. It could have been anywhere. It was, also, the location of a good chunk of our travel troubles… I had my first motorcycle driving lesson. About thirty seconds later I crashed a motorcycle into a ditch for the first time, leaving both me and the bike pretty scratched up. This became a big source of stress as the rental place had Paul’s passport, and I’d read all kinds of horror stories about tourists having to pay huge amounts of money to get their passports back for the most minor damage on rental bikes, and I was worried that my stupidity was going to ruin our entire trip. Later that night I tripped and fell on a dirt road and scraped the heck out of the leg that wasn’t already scraped up from the motorcycle incident. The next morning I woke up sick. Really sick. Unable to leave our bungalow and can’t even keep water down for the better part of a day and a half kind of sick. Later that night Paul joined in on the fun, and in the middle of the night as we were lying in bed enjoying a brief respite from our competition for the bathroom, we heard a rustling in our bungalow. At first we thought we were hearing things, delirious from our sickness. Paul thought he saw something run across the floor, but convinced himself he must be hallucinating. Then the rustling got louder. We got up and turned on the light and as we did so our garbage can gave a frantic shake. Bloody hell. We moved all of the food and garbage in our room outside onto the balcony and told ourselves that if it could get in, it could get out, and went back to bed. Not the most restful of nights.

The next morning Paul got up and went for a 90 minute run in the heat. I dragged my ass to the nearest restaurant and had a fresh coconut (I figured I needed the electrolytes) and some dry toast. Everybody deals with being sick differently, I suppose. We took it pretty easy for the rest of the time in Koh Chang, having some beach naps, going to see a waterfall, cruising around to different parts of the island on the motorcycle. That night we took our tender tummies out for pizza, and on that let me say this: I believe firmly in eating the food of a place, food is such a huge part of the travel experience for me. I eat tapas in Spain, casados in Costa Rica, Thai food in Thailand, and I have always looked scornfully at the western tourists going out for pizza (or whatever) when they should be eating the local cuisine. Folks, I will judge no more. Although we were only violently ill the one time, our stomachs never really settled on this trip. We ate plenty of Thai food in venues ranging  from swanky restaurants to holes in the wall to sketchy looking street food. And then we’d need to give our upset stomachs a break, so we’d look for something safe and neutral, something we knew would go down easy and stay down. I won’t tell you how many times we had pizza on this trip, but I will tell you it was quite a few. Like I said, I will judge no more.

Our last morning on Koh Chang and it is time to return the rented bike. This moment had been keeping me up at night. We took it back to the family shop and of course they spotted the damage right away. A flurry of conversation in Thai and a few questions for us, then flipping through a catalog to check on the prices of the damaged parts. The fine? 300 Bhat (around $9). Ohmygodtherelief! Phew! Bike returned, Paul’s passport secured, and we are on our way. Next up: Chiang Mai.

All text and photos © The Muffin Myth 2012

no knead bread

We arrived home last night from our winter getaway to Thailand, and I’ve got a mountain of laundry to do and piles of pictures to sort through and groceries to buy and muffins to bake. I promise a post about our trip will be coming soon, but first lets bake some bread, shall we?

I don’t know how it happened that I was way behind on this no knead bread craze, but I was, and it wasn’t until Jessica posted a recipe for Jim Lahey’s no-knead pizza dough (which I have yet to try) and linked back to his  no-knead bread recipe that I even knew about it and decided to give it a try. Here’s the embarrassing part: the recipe was posted online in 2006. TWO THOUSAND AND SIX?! Where the heck have I been?! Oh well, we’re here now, that’s the important thing, right?

You have to be organized enough to start the dough about a day ahead of when you want the bread, and you have to spend about 5 minutes actually handing the dough, but really, that’s it. There is no kneading, no fussing around with a tray of water in the oven, and no need for a baking stone. What you get is fragrant, crusty, yeasty, bubbly artisan bread that is difficult to stop eating and sure to impress a crowd.  Even if you’ve never baked bread before you should give this one a try. It’s dead easy and super impressive. I’m planning to pick up a copy of Jim’s book to see what other sort of trouble I can get myself into.

One year ago: Next Level Hummus

No Knead Bread Recipe:

Recipe, totally unmodified, by Jim Lahey

If this is your first time making this bread be sure to give the instructions a thorough read-through before you start. It’s not hard or fussy at all, but it is important that you understand things in the timeline, like that the pot and the oven need to be hot well before the bread is ready to go in.

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3 cups all-purpose or bread flour, plus more for dusting

1/4 teaspoon instant yeast

1 1/4 teaspoons salt

1 and 5/8 cups of lukewarm water

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In a large bowl combine flour, yeast, and salt. Add water, and stir with a wooden spoon until blended. The dough will be loose, ‘shaggy’ and sticky. Cover the bowl securely with plastic wrap. Let the dough rest at least 12 hours, preferably about 18, at warm room temperature.

Your dough is ready when the surface is dotted with bubbles and you can see on the edges of the bowl that it has risen.  Generously sprinkle your counter top with flour and  carefully scrape the dough out of the bowl onto the flour. The goal here is to not lose too many of the air bubbles. Sprinkle the top with a little more flour, and gently fold it over on itself a couple of times. Cover loosely with plastic wrap, and let rest about 15 minutes.

Using just enough flour to keep the dough from sticking, carefully shape the dough into a ball. Generously coat a cotton towel dish cloth (not terry towel) with flour – you need enough here to prevent the dough from sticking to the towel. Place the dough seam side down on towel and dust with more flour. Cover with another towel and let rise for about 2 hours, until dough is more than double in size and does not readily spring back when poked with a finger.

30 – 60 minutes before the dough is done it’s last rise, heat your oven to 225 C  / 450 F. Put a large heavy covered pot (I used a Le Creuset cast iron pot. You could also use a Pyrex casserole dish with a lid, or similar) in oven as it heats. When the dough is ready to go in remove pot from oven and place on a heat proof surface beside the dough. Slide your hand under the  dish cloth and turn dough over into pot, seam side up. Shake pan once or twice if dough is unevenly distributed, but don’t worry about it too much. It will straighten out as it bakes, and the point is a rustic looking loaf. Cover with lid and bake 30 minutes – this allows the bread to steam like it would in a commercial oven without fussing around with a pan of water in the bottom of the oven. Remove lid and bake for another 15 to 30 minutes, until the loaf is browned. Remove the loaf from the pot and cool on a wire rack. Try your best to let it cool completely before you slice into it.

Do ahead: This bread is free from preservatives, so it will only last a few days at room temperature. It makes a large loaf, so you can cut it in half and freeze part of it, wrapped well in plastic, if you’re not going to go through it quickly.

All text and photos © The Muffin Myth 2012

stuffed acorn squash

Some time ago my friend Nicole sent me a tweet asking for something to do with an acorn squash. No problem, I’ve got a go-to acorn squash recipe, something I’ve been making for years and years that is delicious and versatile. So it was a simple  matter of locating the squash, making and photographing the recipe, and writing the post. Easy, right? Well, as it turns out, I checked the grocery store, produce stands, and the farmer’s market, and there was nary an acorn squash to be found. Stockholm certainly boasts a good assortment of winter squash, but acorn isn’t one of them.

So you can imagine my delight when, just a few weeks ago, upon turning up at a party to celebrate the completion of a beautifully renovated apartment, I noticed on display in the fabulous kitchen a large pumpkin and *several* acorn squash. It turns out our fair hostess, Anna, who is Swedish but grew up in North America, was given the squash by her mother who brought the seeds back from the US and is growing them in her Swedish garden. Anna was kind enough to send me home with a squash (I think mostly so I’d stop spazzing about them), so here we go.

This recipe is a modification of the stuffed acorn squash recipe I’ve been making for ages. The original recipe is one from an old Canadian Living magazine, and has been through many evolutions in my kitchen. This version has a stuffing made from a mixture of brown rice and lentils, which form a complete protein making this a good vegetarian dish which also happens to be gluten free. The dish easily becomes vegan as well by leaving out the grated cheese. I’ve kept the flavours simple here with just tomato paste, onion, and celery, but there are a zillion (actual number) different directions you could take this in.

If you have the brown rice and lentils cooked ahead of time (maybe you’re cooking grains and beans in bulk like I suggested back here) this dish comes together in a flash.

One year ago: Brown Sugar Shortbread

Stuffed Acorn Squash Recipe: 

Adapted from Canadian Living

You could stuff one large acorn squash, as I have done here, or two smaller. If you end up with more stuffing than will fit in your squash, as I did, it bakes up nicely in a buttered ramekin covered loosely with foil.

Serves 4 as a side, or 2 as a main

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1 large or 2 smaller acorn squash

1 cup cooked brown rice

1 cup cooked br0wn lentils

1 small yellow onion, finely diced

1 stalk celery, finely diced

1 cup shredded cheddar cheese, or similar

4 Tbsp tomato paste

1/4 cup toasted sunflower seeds

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Preheat oven to 200 C / 400 F. Split your squash in half and scoop out the seeds and stringy bits. Place the squash cut side down in an oven proof baking dish and bake for 15 – 20 min, until just barely tender.

While squash is baking, in a bowl combine rice, lentils, onion, celery, cheese, tomato paste, and sunflower seeds, and give everything a good stir to combine.

When the squash is just becoming tender remove from the oven and cool slightly, just until you can handle it. Spoon the filling in and press firmly in with your hands, making a mound of stuffing over the squash. Replace in the baking dish, stuffing side up, and return to the oven for an additional 15-20 minutes. Squash is ready when it is fully tender and the stuffing is nice and crispy on top.

Do ahead: squash can be roasted ahead of time and kept in the fridge until ready to be stuffed. Cooked, stuff squash will last a few days covered in the fridge and can be reheated. It also packs nicely for lunch.

All text and photos © The Muffin Myth 2011

My friend Sean and I made our first batch of fruitcake in 1995; I was 16 and he was 17 years old. It started as a joke. See, we had this theory that nobody actually ate fruitcake, they just hung onto it for a while and eventually re-gifted it. We wanted to see how long it would take before we got one of our own fruitcakes back, so we set about making some. Our plan backfired horribly for two reasons: It turns out that people not only eat our fruitcake, they freaking love it. Also, people assumed that since we make fruit cake we must also love fruit cake (not true, folks!) and they’ve started gifting us with fruitcakes of their own.

We knew so little about fruitcake making that first year. And, we were terrible at math. We drastically overestimated the quantities of ingredients we’d need, and schlepped about a three year supply home from the local grocery store. It’s a good thing that fruit cake ingredients practically never go bad.

We made mistakes nearly every year. The first year, we didn’t know that there was such a thing as ‘candied citrus peel’, so we spent ages peeling lemons, grapefruits, and oranges and tossed the peel into our fruitcake batter. The cakes were slightly bitter, but people loved them. One year we accidentally dropped an entire egg into the whirling food processor, shell and all. We stopped and tried picking out the fragments of shell, then looked at each other, shrugged, and turned the machine back on. The recipe calls for grape or pineapple juice, but we always used whatever kind of juice we found in Sean’s mom’s fridge (though we did draw the line, after serious consideration,  at using tomato juice). You’re supposed to wash and then dry the raisins and currants, a process which takes hours. We may have done this twice and then gave it up. Apparently you’re supposed to make fruitcake months in advance and let them cure; we’ve made them as late as December 23rd. People loved every single one of those cakes.

In the early years fruitcake production took us close to an entire day. But we’ve become older, wiser, better, and more efficient at making fruit cake. We’ve switched to buying the ingredients in exact amounts at a local bulk food store. We’ve switched from cutting up and buttering brown paper bags to parchment paper. We’ve discovered pre-chopped dates! We know our respective jobs well, so we set out a giant “Make Love, Not Fruitcake” button on the counter, and get going. We’ve got this thing down to a science and can now churn out a double batch of fruitcake (yielding about 20 cakes) in a matter of a couple of hours (not including cooking time).

A few years in (once we had both reached legal drinking age, of course) we decided it was time to start soaking our fruitcakes in brandy. We bought the cheapest brandy we could get our hands on and worked like this: one for the fruit cake, one for Sean, one for the fruitcake, one for me. On one thoroughly brandy soaked taxi ride home I attempted to tip my cabbie with a fruitcake. He awkwardly declined.

The only year since we started making fruitcake that we didn’t make any was in 1999, when I was living in New Zealand and Sean decided he wasn’t going to make fruit cake without me. The people were massively disappointed, so the next year we upped to a double batch and have made a double batch every year since. Now, since I’ve moved to Sweden making fruitcake has become a bit of a logistical problem and I’m sorry to say that unlike last year when we were organized enough to make them while I was in Vancouver in August, this year it didn’t work out. It’s entirely my fault; I was only in Vancouver for brief moment this summer for my sister’s wedding, and I didn’t get around to organizing fruit cake day. I emailed Sean to see what he was going to do about fruitcake this year and he replied, sadly, that for the first time ever he’d do it alone, but  he’d only be making  a single batch this year.

I got a text from Sean letting me know that the fruitcakes were done, and he was going to take one round to my dad, a fervent  fan of our fruitcake. To appreciate the sweetness of this gesture you need to know that Sean and my father, who Sean used to call (to his face) ‘Oscar the Grouch’ had a bit of a tumultuous relationship over the years. Sean, one of my oldest friends, used to drive my father around the bend torturing our family dog, making my little sister cry, and dressing up as my dad, among other things. And now, all these years later, he’s making the effort to take a fruit cake to my father. And that is what it’s all about, folks. It turns out all this time we have, in fact, made love, not fruitcake.

Happy Holidays.

This post was originally written for and posted on The Foodists 

cooked eggnog

Here is the cold hard truth: I have consumed more eggnog in the last week and a half than I have in the entire rest of my life. For real. See, I’ve always had a bit of a love hate thing for eggnog. Love the flavour, hate the notion that I’m drinking raw eggs. I’ve mentioned here before that I’m more than a tad squeamish about consuming raw eggs, and, though I tend to break my own rule when it comes to chocolate chip cookie dough, in all other circumstances I’ll avoid anything with raw egg in it. I still haven’t entirely forgiven my bridal party for serving me a cocktail with a raw egg white in it (and not telling me until after!) at my wedding shower. It’s not a food safety thing, I get that the consumption of raw eggs *can* be safe under the right circumstances (please only use the freshest raw eggs possible, and never any with cracks or blemishes on the shell, and avoid any and all contact with the shell while you are breaking the egg) so if a traditional raw egg eggnog is up your alley, power to you.

Some years ago I did a search online for eggless eggnog and came up with this concoction which used instant vanilla pudding to thicken the eggnog. It was just okay, but only if you added a lot (A LOT!) of rum and nutmeg. Fast forward to this year when my sister and brother in law turned up for our Christmas in early December, I wanted to have eggnog and I wasn’t about to serve something that came from a package. So I set about brainstorming an eggless eggnog where I would cook a vanilla pudding from scratch, but my favourite stove top vanilla pudding does have an egg in it after all. Could I be on to something? Then, over the course of my searching for alternative eggnogs, I discovered a few recipes for cooked eggnogs! Vad bra! Basically it’s the same as making a thin (and rich and creamy) stove top vanilla pudding, custard, or sauce, all doctored up with cream and lots of wonderful spices.

I made one version for our holiday dinner and it was a hit. It wasn’t quite what I wanted though, so I kept on trucking and made a few more batches. The end result is a hybrid of a couple of recipes; this one, and this one. The result is a thick, creamy, not too sweet, flavourful, home made eggnog which is safe for raw egg squeamish types and, if you leave out the rum, for pregnant ladies and little children. Everyone wins! Yay!

Hey, wait! Before you get all silly with home made eggnog, click over here and check out my friend Lindsay’s photo project. It’s cool, and it makes me happy to see such great shots of my home town. *Now* go get silly with eggnog.

One year ago: Tomato Fennel Quinoa Soup

Cooked Eggnog Recipe: 

Adapted from Jen Altman and Michael Ruhlman

The eggs and dairy are the stars of the show here, so use the very best ingredients you can get your hands on. I used organic whole milk and cream, and organic free range eggs. I served this eggnog with spiced rum and a dusting of fresh grated nutmeg, but bourbon or your favourite whiskey would be good choices as well.

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4 cups whole milk

1 cup heavy cream

1 Tbsp honey

1 tsp ground cinnamon

1 vanilla bean

6 egg yolks*

1/4 cup granulated sugar

fresh grated nutmeg

spiced rum

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Set a mesh strainer over a large pot – large enough to hold all of the eggnog, or you’ll be in a mad panic as eggnog is pouring out of the bowl and down the sink (trust me on that one) and set aside.

Split your vanilla bean lengthwise and using a sharp knife, scrape the seeds out. Put both the seeds and the pods into a large pot. Add milk, cream, honey, and cinnamon. Set on the stove top over medium high heat and bring to a boil, whisking almost constantly – you don’t want the milk to burn or a skin to form on top. Once the milk just barely reaches a boil remove from the heat and set aside.

In the bowl of a stand mixer whip the egg yolks and granulated sugar together until they form a light yellow colour and the sugar is well incorporated. With the mixer running on a medium-low speed, begin to drizzle the hot milk in very slowly, one cup at a time. We’re tempering the egg yolks here so they don’t scramble. When all of the milk has been added, pour everything back into the pot and set back on the stove over medium heat. Cook, stirring with a wooden spoon or spatula, until the mixture thickens slightly and coats the back of a spoon. Add plenty of fresh grated nutmeg to the mixture to your taste. Can I just say I added lots? Remove from heat.

Set the strainer and bowl into your sink (or on your counter if you’re a good and careful pourer – I am not) and pour the eggnog through the strainer in case you’ve scrambled any egg (and don’t panic if you have!). Then pour the eggnog into a jug or leave it in the bowl and set in the fridge to cool.

Serve over ice with spiced rum or whatever is your poison, and a dusting of fresh grated nutmeg. Enjoy!

Do ahead: cooked eggnog will last about 3-4 days in the fridge, or about 7 if you mix the rum in.

*Stop! Don’t throw out those egg whites! There is so much you can do with them. Meringues! Angel food cake! Macaroons! Omelets or fritattas with extra egg whites added in! And if you’re not ready to use them right away eggwhites will last about a week in the fridge in an airtight container, or much longer if you pop them in the freezer.

All text and photos © The Muffin Myth 2011

gingersnaps

This year I decided I had better get organized and post a holiday cookie slightly sooner than 2 days before Christmas. My sister visited last weekend and we spent a day in the kitchen banging out a mass of holiday treats traditional in our family, including brown sugar shortbread, not-too-rummy chocolate rum balls, and these ginger snaps. Since neither my sister or I are heading back to Vancouver for the holidays this year we decided to throw a holiday dinner with all the trimmings. We canvased our mothers for instructions and made must have items from our family (East Coast stuffing, Nicky Balls – the not-too-rummy chocolate rum balls) and from Paul’s (perogies, mushroom sauce, and cabbage soup) along with fish, turkey, roasted veggies, and some really tremendous company. We all agreed that everything we made was good, but not the same as when our mothers make it. Of course, that didn’t stop us from gorging ourselves on it and we had to roll ourselves out the door to our next social engagement, where, and I’m not naming names, one of us *may* have had to take a wee lie down on the guest bed. Ah, tis the season.


This was my grandfather’s gingersnap recipe, and my grandfather took his gingersnaps real serious. He liked them thin and he liked them snappy, so much so that he bought himself a deli style meat slicer and would form the dough into logs which he’d then freeze and later slice into thin, thin cookies to bake.

I’ve changed these up in a few ways. First, as I’ve been doing with all of the recipes that have come from my grandparents, I’ve swapped out shortening for butter. It’s a pretty straightforward swap, but bear in mind when doing so that shortening is 100% fat and butter is 85% fat and 15% water, so your baked goods will turn out a bit differently. The extra water might make these gingersnaps slightly less snappy, but frankly I haven’t noticed and would rather use a natural fat in my baking. I’ve also used blackstrap rather than fancy molasses because I had to traipse all over Stockholm and pay an exorbitant price to get my hands on real molasses rather than mörk sirap (literal translation; dark syrup) which is molasses-y but not, in my humble opinion, molasse-y enough. I eventually sourced out blackstrap molasses at a health food store. Lastly, rather than using a deli meat slicer I’ve rolled out the dough and cut it out into festive shapes, including, as you can see, heart shapes, which are traditional at Christmas time here in Sweden. We even tried a heart shaped gingersnap with a smudge of blue cheese on it, which is the thing to do in Sweden in December. And you know, it didn’t gross me out like it did last year. I must be assimilating.

What are the must have items you’ll be making this month? Are there any holiday recipes you’re hoping to see here?

One year ago: Hej Då, Stockholm

Gingersnaps Recipe:

Adapted from Grandpa Trant’s Gingersnaps

This recipe makes a lot of cookies. The actual number you end up with depends largely on how thin you roll the dough and the size of your cookie cutters. I’d estimate we got at least 6 -8 dozen fairly large cookies. Use a stand mixer or a wooden spoon to do the mixing – a flimsy spatula has no business here.

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1 cup / 225g / 8 oz butter

1 cup molasses (I used blackstrap)

2 Tbsp ground ginger

2 tsp baking soda

1 cup granulated sugar

1 tsp salt

1 egg, lightly beaten

4 cups all purpose flour

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In a small saucepan over medium heat melt the butter. Add molasses and stir to combine. Just barely bring this mixture to a boil, then remove from the heat and pour into a large bowl or the bowl of your stand mixer. Add ginger, baking soda, sugar, and salt and mix until well combined. Add the egg. Once the egg is worked through start adding flour one cup at a time, ensuring the flour is fully incorporated each time. Divide the dough into 3 or 4 portions, and form each portion into a flat, round disk. Cover with plastic wrap and place in the fridge to chill for at least 1 hour.

When you are ready to make the gingersnaps preheat oven to 180 C / 350 F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Roll dough out to desired thinness – the thinner the cookie the shorter the cooking time and the crispier the cookie will be. These were about 1/2 cm thin. Cut out shapes and place onto baking sheet. If you are like me and own only one baking sheet you’ll have to do many rotations of the tray, but don’t worry about it, you’ll get to eat fresh warm gingersnaps to ‘test’ each tray. Depending on thinness, bake gingersnaps for about 8-12 mintues, rotating the pan halfway through the baking time. Using a spatula remove cookies from the sheet and cool on a wire rack. Store cookies in an airtight container at room temperature, or in the freezer.

Do ahead: Dough can be made ahead and will last about a week in the fridge wrapped tightly in plastic. You can also freeze the dough and thaw at room temp when you are ready to make the cookies. Baked cookies will last about a week in an airtight container, or much longer in the freezer.

All text and photos © The Muffin Myth 2011

spicy red lentil soup

You know you’re living way up north when at the tail end of November the sun starts setting in the 2′s. You know you’re a food blogger living way up north when, after a stretch of grey and dreary days, sunlight suddenly floods your kitchen and you drop everything to take pictures of soup. The ever shrinking window of daylight is pretty narrow these days, and you’ve got to take advantage while you can. Normally I’d avoid taking pictures of food in direct sunlight, but I like the way these turned out; warm and shadowy.

In the cooler weather a big pot of soup has become a weekly fixture in our home. This spicy red lentil soup makes frequent appearances. The list of ingredients is simple and comprised of things I often have on hand in the cupboards. The soup comes together quickly and doesn’t require much fussing over, other than a bit of a stir now and then. Lentils and brown rice make a complete protein, which makes this soup a one-pot stick-to-yer-ribs kind of a meal.  Leftovers reheat well. Nuff said.


One year ago: Poached Eggs on Crispy Polenta

Spicy Red Lentil Soup Recipe:

Adapted from 101 Cookbooks 

It is important that you use split red lentils here and don’t substitute a different type of lentil that holds together – the lentils blowing apart as the soup cooks is key to the texture. If spicy soup isn’t your thing you can be conservative with the red pepper flakes, or leave them out all together. Serve with a scoop of creamy Greek yoghurt and some chopped salty black olives.

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2 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil

1 large yellow onion, diced

2 cloves garlic, finely minced

1 tsp red pepper flakes

1 1/3 cups split lentils, rinsed

1/2 cup uncooked brown rice

8 cups vegetable broth or water

salt to taste

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Heat a large pot over medium heat. Add the olive oil, then the onions, and cook, stirring frequently, until the onions are translucent. Add the garlic and the red pepper flakes, and cook for another few minutes until the onions begin to get a nice deep brown colour. Now add the lentils, rice, and the broth. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to medium low and cover the pot. Simmer, stirring occasionally, until the lentils have blown apart and the rice is cooked. Taste and season with salt if needed. If you prefer a thinner soup (bear in mind the soup will thicken slightly as it cools) you can add more vegetable broth or water at this point. Serve  bowls of hot soup with a spoonful of yoghurt or sour cream and a sprinkle of chopped salty black olives.

All text and photos © The Muffin Myth 2011

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