There are days in this life when you just need a good dose of carbs. Sweet, rich, custardy carbs. Days when bourbon and butter never hurt.
With that said, allow me to present my totally over-the-top dessert concoction: Gingersnap Bread Pudding with Bourbon Butter Sauce. It’s bread pudding, but it is so, so much more. It is your ticket to comforting, custardy, carbohydrate heaven.
The past few days have been “melty” here in Minnesota. Everyone seems a little happier and finally has a little skip in their step now that we’re seeing a glimmer of spring. The end is finally, maybe, in sight.
Perfect. Except for one thing. One thing I can’t believe I’m about to say.
Have I had my fill of winter cooking yet? Am I ready to trade in the hearty root vegetables and braised meats for asparagus and artichokes? I better get in a couple more soups. Maybe a stew. Better do some baking. Bread pudding? Polenta. Gooey cheese. Root vegetables. Roasts. Winter squash.
Squash! No, I haven’t quite had my fill. I loaded up on it in the beginning and then it fell off my radar.
Alright, tonight squash’ll get crossed off our winter eating bucket list. We’ll roast it, combine it with sautéed leeks and Brie, and use it as the filling for a savory galette. Nice, 3 checks off our list: squash, cheese, and baking.
I’m not sure when it happened, but at some point Matt and I became totally addicted to cauliflower. Simple, boring cauliflower. We’ve probably roasted a dozen heads of it this winter and every time, we have a hard time getting any onto our dinner plates because we can’t help ourselves from snitching the toasty, browned pieces directly from the baking sheet.
In other words, it took a decent amount of restraint to actually get the delicious, caramelized cauliflower into this ravioli.
But we did it and it was well worth the short-term sacrifice. And how not? Roasted cauliflower gets combined with creamy ricotta cheese and orange zest, then sandwiched between layers of homemade pasta. Dress it up with brown butter, crushed hazelnuts, and bread crumbs and what’s not to love?
Sometimes you get an idea for something you want to cook or bake and you get right into the kitchen and get it done. And it’s great, totally delicious on the first try.
But then other recipes involve a whole lot of trial and error. And maybe a few less than perfect cheese plates along the way. It’s rough, this life I’m living.
It’s not that my first attempts were bad. I just had a very clear vision of what these magical biscotti should be. I wanted nutty, crunchy, savory, and just a tad sweet. Fennel seeds, golden raisins, loads of almonds. Fresh rosemary and barely smashed black peppercorns that you’ll be finding between your teeth for an hour. Sturdy enough to hold up to some oozy, stinky cheese. An afternoon snack, a vehicle for cheese, or a crisp late night accompaniment to a glass of wine: these crackers had big shoes to fill.
And finally, on my fourth go-around, I got it right. These biscotti finally have the crunch I was seeking and the flavors I craved. They are crisp without being crumbly, nutty, peppery, and complex. My cheese plates will never be the same.
You’ve heard the old adage “failing to plan is planning to fail”, right? Gosh, feels like the story of my life.
I’ve been in this rut lately of going to the gym in the middle of the day, about the time normal people with well-planned, put-together lives would be eating lunch. I run a few miles, fueled only on coffee and maybe a cookie or 2, and then return home, a ravenous beast. Watch out, I’m going elbow deep in the granola, almonds are consumed by the handful, and my daily cookie count triples.
Hey, wait! I just did something good for my body. Why am I un-doing it as soon as I get home?
Because I fail to plan. Regularly.
No more! If I plan just a teeny-tiny bit, I can make a killer salad in 5 minutes, stuff my face with that and go about the rest of my day feeling proud instead of remorseful.