Coconut Lemon Bars

These lemon bars are for Genevieve… mostly so she'll stop harassing me about making lemon bars. 

Genevieve was on my team at my last company, and regularly dropped hints for me to bring in treats. A month or so ago, she pinged me and said "so, have you ever made lemon bars?" Then a few weeks later "you should make lemon bars…for your blog, I mean." Then, shortly after, she abandoned all subtly, and got straight to the point "seriously, when are you making me lemon bars?"

I've never really cared about lemon bars. I mean, not that I disliked them, but they were never something I really wanted or craved. So after Genevieve's insistence, I put a poll up on Facebook, to gauge interest and see if others also wanted lemon bars. Turns out, you do. Lemon bars won. So here Genevieve, here are your damn lemon bars already!  

Truth be told, I'm glad she suggested (er, demanded?) lemon bars, because I actually hadn't ever made them, and I loved it! They were super fun to make, filled my apartment with the best lemony, buttery scent ever, and, lo and behold, they're so, so addictingly good. However, I must warn you: don't be fooled by the citrusy freshness—lemon bars are not, I repeat NOT, good for you. They're super buttery and have tons of sugar. I used almost half the amount of sugar that one popular recipe called for. That's crazy. I also added coconut to the shortbread crust…because I love coconut, and also because coconut and lemon are so springy and perfect for Easter weekend. The sweet richness of the crust cuts through the lemony tang, so that the bars are not too sweet or too sour, but just the right mix of the two. 

Coconut Lemon Bars

Adapted from this recipe

Coconut shortbread crust

3/4 cup (1.5 sticks) unsalted butter, diced

2 cups all-purpose flour

1/4 cup packed light brown sugar

1/2 cup confectioner's/powdered sugar

3/4 cup shredded, sweetened coconut

1/4 teaspoon salt

Lemon filling

4 large eggs, plus 2 egg yolks

1 3/4 cups granulated sugar

1/3 cup all-purpose flour, sifted

1 teaspoon grated lemon zest

1 cup fresh lemon juice (I used 4 medium-large lemons, but I would recommend juicing straight into a liquid measuring cup)

Toasted coconut and powdered sugar, for serving

Preheat to 350, with rack in center. Grease a 9x13 inch pan (or, I used two 8x8 pans) and line with foil, leaving a 2-inch overhang on all sides. Grease the foil. 

Start with the crust. Pulse the butter, flour, brown sugar, powdered sugar, and salt in a food processor until the dough comes together, about 1 minute*. Then mix in the coconut. Press evenly into the bottom of the pan or pans, making sure there are no cracks. Bake until the crust is golden, about 20-25 minutes.

While the crust is baking, make the filling. Whisk the eggs and extra yolks, sugar, and flour in a bowl until smooth. Remove the crust from the oven and reduce the temperature to 300. Add lemon zest and juice to egg mixture, and whisk until combined (you want to wait until you're ready to pour the filling to add the lemon, as the acid could begin to cook the eggs). Pour the filling over the warm crust and, and bake until the filling is set, 30 to 35 minutes.

Let the bars cool in the pan on a rack, then refrigerate until firm, at least 2 hours. Lift out of the pan using the foil and slice. Dust with powdered sugar and toasted coconut before serving. PS. they taste great straight out of the fridge! 

*If you have a food processor that fits more than a cup and doesn't make the most horrible screeching sound in the world that makes your cat run and hide every time you use it, then use that. If not, you can use your hands, just be patient, and work the dough until you have pea-sized dough pebbles, and it can come together in a ball. I actually enjoy the hands-on mixing of the dough…but I also have the worst food processor ever. 

Berry Shortcakes

Once upon a time, back when a summer heat wave was just a speck on the horizon, I did a little poll. I asked you all about your favorite summer dessert. And a few of you responded. Or maybe Amanda and Evan just responded several times each, to make me feel better. Either way, it seems that pies were so last summer, and popsicles so two summer ago. The hot items (or…cool items?) these days are ice cream sandwiches. And berry shortcakes! We had a tie! I thought about making some sort of crazy berry shortcake ice cream sandwich. But then I decided I would rather make two desserts. Twice the fun.

Shortcakes and ice cream sandwiches are funny, because they’re super summery, yet you need the oven for both (pies too, but who cares about pies anymore?). And some of you (I’m looking at you southern California) don’t see what the big deal is. Turn up the AC, who cares if the oven is on? Well, in Seattle, we don’t have AC. I mean, get real. We’ve spent about 50 minutes above 80 degrees all year. AC is just not a requirement here. But, on those few scorchers we have each year, we all melt. Or wilt. So our 85 degree days lead to 95 degree homes. Turning an oven on in those conditions is preposterous.

Luckily I made one of the summer desserts before we hit our major heat streak. Introducing raspberry shortcakes with basil-macerated strawberries and lemon whipped cream. Sweet, tangy, fruity, and herbal, in every bite. I used Martha’s recipe for the shortcakes themselves. When something is this delicious, you don’t reinvent the wheel, people. You just don’t. The shortcakes are somewhere between a biscuit and a scone, not too sweet, with soft little pockets of raspberry throughout. Combined with strawberries tossed in basil and sugar, and a tangy whipped cream, you just can't go wrong. 

PS. I do still care about pies and popsicles. Just sayin.

Raspberry Shortcakes with Basil-Strawberries and Lemon Whip

Makes 8 servings

Martha's shortcakes

1 lb fresh strawberries, thinly sliced

5 or so basil leaves, chopped

2 tablespoons sugar

1 cup whipping cream

1 teaspoon vanilla

Juice and zest from half a lemon

While shortcakes are baking, toss strawberries with 1T of the sugar and the basil. Set aside, stirring occasionally. In mixer (or with whisk, or in a jar), whip together cream, remaining sugar, vanilla, and lemon, until desired whipped cream consistency. Top cooled shortcakes with berries and whip. 

Roasted Chimichurri Cauliflower

Arg! Why is doing taxes so totally horrible? I don't own a house, or have any loans, and I'm not married.  I seriously have the easiest taxes to file, ever. So, I sat down today to do my taxes, thinking it would a breeze. Three hours and 4 meltdowns later (by meltdowns, I mean crying, yelling, stomping—we're pretty much talking full on toddler temper tantrums here), I finally got them filed. After that fiasco, I was exhausted, and insanely grumpy. Incredible-Hulk style grumpy. Biscuit was nervously meowing and pacing in circles around me, and Evan had locked himself in the bedroom to avoid my wrath.  Note to self for next year: remember, doing taxes isn't easy. Plan on that.

But you know what is easy? Roasted chimichurri cauliflower. 

Remember that chimichurri you tossed with leftover chicken for a budget-friendly dinner? Well, now you can use the leftover chimichurri to brighten up roasted cauliflower! Seriously, you WANT to do this. Even after tax-filing-from-hell, you'll have enough energy for this one. And it's just zingy enough, that it might put a little pep back in your post-tax step. After roasting, the lemon and garlic get all tangy, and the red pepper flakes take on some extra heat for a little kick at the end of each bite. And, since you made the sauce* already, this dinner takes about 4 minutes to put together—or as long as it takes you to break down a head of cauliflower. While it's roasting, you can sit back and relax. Have a glass of wine… or an old fashioned. No judgement here. After my day, I'm going real old-fashioned—skipping the extras, and just going straight for the whiskey. Plan on THAT. 

Roasted Chimichurri Cauliflower

1/2 recipe of chimichurri

1 head cauliflower, rinsed and separated into florets
S&P

Grated parmesan

Preheat oven to 400. Drain a little bit of the excess liquid off of the chimichurri, and toss the rest of the sauce with cauliflower. Salt and pepper to taste. Arrange on a sheet pan or roasting dish, and roast for 25-30 minutes, or until slightly browned and just getting crispy on the edges. Remove from oven and sprinkle with parm. 

*Every time I write, say, or hear the word sauce, I think/say to myself "that sauce is BOSS." I also have a really strong desire to end every one of my posts with "I HEARD that!" 


Is that weird?

Chimichurri Chicken Salad

The other day on the bus I heard another rider talking about how expensive it is to cook at home. How much more expensive it is than eating out. Maybe that girl eats at way cheaper restaurants than I do, or maybe she just doesn't understand how to make her dollar stretch in the kitchen. I mean, don't get me wrong, home cooking isn't always cheap. Especially if you like to use quality ingredients and lots of produce. It adds up. But, that's why you gotta make it stretch. And, once you get more comfortable in the kitchen, and start building up a pantry, it's even easier to cook homemade meals for less. 

I'm always looking for ways to make my groceries go further, and to waste less. Coming up with interesting leftover-revivals is a good place to start. You can mix this tasty chimichurri with leftover roast chicken and serve a ton of different ways. And, you should end up with leftover chimichurri, which can be used in a million other ways, in a million other recipes. 

Chicken Chimichurri Salad

Chimichurri adapted from Epicurious

1/3 cup olive oil

1/3 cup fresh lemon juice

5 garlic cloves, minced

1 small shallot, minced

1 teaspoon red pepper flakes

3/4 cup chopped parsley

1/4 cup chopped cilantro

flakey sea salt

1 cup cooked chicken, chopped

1/2 English cucumber, cubed

For chimichurri, whisk together olive oil through cilantro, and salt to taste. Let mixture sit for about 20 minutes, for flavors to meld. Combine chicken, cucumbers, and about half of the chimichurri. Add more salt or chimichurri if needed. Serve on crusty grilled french bread, in a wrap, on a pita with hummus and feta, or even in an endive leaf. Or just eat it, because you'll want to. Store remaining chimichurii in a jar in the fridge for up to a week. 

Lavender and Rosemary Lemon Cookies

My Oma just celebrated her 90th birthday. In case you don't remember, my Oma—or grandma—is this awesome woman, of paprikash fame. And now she's 90. Ninety!! What a crazy life she's led, and what an amazing family she's built. 

We spent the night of her birthday party dancing the polka, and taking shots. Lots of shots. That European side of the fam sure can drink! Evan went with me, and met Oma, and the rest of my dad's family, for the first time ever. They loved him, of course. Especially after he wore Uncle Ernie's lederhosen. The whole thing was totally crazy, and totally wonderful. 

Oma lives in Southern California, so we also got to soak up some sun. We drove through citrus orchards, and picked a million meyer lemons and kumquats from her back yard. Seriously, the woman had an insane amount of citrus just weighing down her trees. And now I have an insane amount of citrus in my home, here in dreary Seattle. I really have a million lemons, or at least 30. My bag got searched at the airport because of it. Don't worry, they didn't confiscate my lemons. Or my kumquats. Close call. 

There's nothing like a bowl full of bright yellow lemons to brighten up a cold, dark winter!

Meyer Lemon Cornmeal Cookies with Lavender or Rosemary

Adapted from Cooking Light

These cookies seriously summer in every bite. They're sweet, tangy and herbaceous, and they really hold up to a bold cup of Earl Grey (or a bowl of vanilla ice cream). The lemons and rosemary for these came from Oma's yard, and the lavender came from my parents' yard.  

1 cup all-purpose flour 

1/3 cup yellow cornmeal

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/4 teaspoon salt 

3/4 cup sugar

6 tablespoons butter, softened 

2 tablespoons honey

1 large egg 

1 tablespoon meyer lemon zest

1 tablespoon meyer lemon juice

1 teaspoon finely chopped fresh rosemary

1 teaspoon finely chopped lavender buds 

Glaze:

1 cup powdered sugar

fresh meyer lemon juice

Preheat oven to 350, and line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper. 

Whisk to combine flour, cornmeal, baking soda, and salt in a bowl. Combine sugar and butter in a large bowl/stand mixer, and beat about 5 minutes, until light and fluffy. Add honey, and beat until combined. Add egg, beat well. Mix in lemon zest and juice. Add dry ingredients to wet, and mix until just blended.

Separate dough in half, and mix lavender  into one half, and rosemary into the other. Spoon small rounds of dough onto baking sheets. Bake at 350° for 10-12 minutes, until golden brown around the edges. Cool until firm enough to move from pan, and then cool completely on rack. 

For glaze, stir together powdered sugar and a tablespoon of lemon juice. Add more juice until desired consistency. Once cool, dip tops of cookies into glaze, and let sit until glaze dries. Then eat, preferably with tea. 

Baby I Need Your Lovin'

This morning I told Evan that we're having a Dutch baby.

He was a little confused, and perhaps concerned, until I added "for breakfast," then he let out a sigh of relief. Apparently cannibalism is easier to stomach in this household than parenthood. But, not to worry, the Dutch babies I was referring to are the puffy pancake variety, not the blue-eyed, blonde haired variety. 

Dutch babies are eggy, buttery pancakes, cooked in a skillet until they puff up about the edges, forming a flaky-but-chewy bowl shaped breakfast. And believe it or not, makin' babies has never been easier or more fun…er, well, it's probably been more fun. Just sayin…

Once the baby is outta the oven, top that hot goodness with even more butter, lots of fresh lemon juice, and powdered sugar. Then dig in. 

Go ahead...put on something a little more comfortable, mix up a few drinks (coffee, perhaps?), and make some babies! 

Dutch Baby

From The Seattle Times

• 4 tablespoons butter
• 3 large eggs
• ½ cup flour
• ½ cup milk
• Clarified butter
• Juice from one lemon
• Powdered sugar

Preheat oven to 425. In a 10- or 11-inch cast-iron skillet, melt 4 tablespoons butter over low heat (on stove top). In a blender, combine eggs, flour, and milk until smooth. Pour batter into skillet over melted butter, and bake 25 minutes. While the baby is still hot, drizzle on clarified butter, lemon juice, and powdered sugar. Serve with more lemon wedges and powdered sugar.