We've moved

Over here now- http://www.thehoneyeater.com

The site is still very much under construction.

Raspberry Lemonade (and sherbet)

I might have bought a whole flat of raspberries the other day.

It's just that they were so cheap, and raspberries are usually such a luxury item. The opportunity to own so many raspberries at one time was too exciting to pass up.

I lugged them home on the subway. Some woman next to me asked if I was selling them, I had to tell her, no, I wasn't, they were all for me. I wasn't even sure of what I would do with them yet.

When I got home I flipped open this book and started making the raspberry sherbet almost immediately. I had all the ingredients: 4 cups of raspberries, 2 cups of milk and 1 cup of sugar, and all I had to do was whirl it all in a blender, strain it to remove the seeds, stir in the juice of one lemon and freeze. Amir, who is usually a very generous man, refuses to share this with anyone, except me of course, and he does that only because he has to. Every time I have suggested taking it to a dinner or party he has grown sullen, even after I promise to make him a new and shiny raspberry sorbet (with rose! booze!). It ranks somewhere below the decadent chocolate cherry ice cream I made back in the spring and above my hazelnut ice cream. It is delightful, refreshing even, and perfect with a handful of fresh berries.


After making the sherbet I still had loads of berries left (and I still do! I have a liter-sized container of them, sitting in my fridge, taunting me with their tart goodness). Inspired by this, I decided to make a raspberry lemonade. I had picked up a bag of organic lemons at the store, because they too were on sale, and I planned to use the peel. I was very pleasantly surprised with how well it turned out. The raspberry flavor came in very strong, a nice summery drink.

Raspberry Lemonade

8 cups (2 l) water

peel of one lemon (preferably unsprayed)

22 ounces (600 g) raspberries (about 4 half-pints)

1 cup (225 grams) turbinado sugar

juice of 6 lemons (about 1-1/2 cups or 350 ml)

Sparkling water

Mix 2 cups (500 ml) water, lemon peel, and raspberries in a medium saucepan. Bring to a boil, lower heat, and let simmer 15 minutes.

Pour through a collander lined with cheesecloth into a bowl or another pot. Let cool for at least 15 minutes. Squeeze excess juice from the cooked fruit, discard.

Add sugar to the juice and cook over medium heat until the sugar is dissolved. Add lemon juice and water. Chill juice until cold, mix with sparkling water, or flat water, to taste.

Summer at the Botanic Gardens

The Brooklyn Botanic Gardens are free on Tuesday, so I went over there and lay on the grass under a tree.

Read a book.

Talked to my parents, and drank a lemon soda.

Perfect summer day.

Blueberry Soda

Soda, so much fun to make. So easy too, and so worth the modicum of effort you put into it. People are always extraordinarily impressed by home-made drinks. For some reason, the idea of making your own soda really amazes folks.

If you haven't entered into the world of making sodas, please do. Try this blueberry soda recipe by Alton Brown. It can be adapted to all sorts of fruits. I made a strawberry-rhubarb soda back in May. Who knows what other permutations of this recipe will emerge from my kitchen.

You'll want to take about 2 pints of blueberries (20 oz. or 570 g) and dump them into a pot with 2 cups (or 500 ml) of water. Bring it to a boil, then turn down the heat and let simmer for 15 minutes. Pour into a colander lined with cheesecloth, placed over a bowl or another pot. Let sit and then squeeze out the excess juice.

Add the juice of a lime and maybe 5 oz (140 g), of sugar, probably less. You could start with about 1/4 cup and then move up from there. Heat until the sugar is disolved. Pour into an empty milk jar or whatever container you have on hand. Mix with sparkling water and enjoy.

(I would also like to note that while my little Canon took wonderful shots, Amir's Nikon D50 is now back in my grubby paws, with it's fancy lens and everything.)

Summer gratin

I love my farmers market. I go to the big one in Union Square, and this time of year, it's just bursting with fresh fruits and vegetables, milk and cheese, flowers, honey, and most everything I could possibly want. When I get home, I proudly take out each item and display it on the table for Amir to admire. Perhaps it is some latent gathering instinct passed down through generations of women who searched fields, farms, and now farmers markets for food for their families. Or perhaps I'm just mildly insane. Whichever.

I made this gratin for my parents when they visited at the end of June. They tore through it. It was bright and fresh. There was grated zucchini, and lots of fresh herbs, some spring onions, and a tomato added in because it's summer, and they're everywhere, and you have to use them whenever possible. Then the whole thing was topped with cheesy bechemel, what's not to love?

Well, not a lot really. My parents, as I said, loved it. They continued to think about it for a good 48 hours. I felt, however good it was the first time around, that there were unexplored possibilities with this gratin. The flavors are very Provencal so I decided to boost the tomato further, I also added a bell pepper, and while I was at the market I saw beautiful crimini mushrooms, so I added those as well. Because I'd upped my vegetable quotient, I scaled down the rice a very little bit. I also used my new favorite cheese, Tumbleweed by 5 Spoke Creamery. The cheese is grassy and almost cheddary, and I thought a little lemon juice tossed in with the vegetables would set it off nicely.

I should mention that this dish introduced me to marjoram, for which I am forever grateful. It is spicy and sweet and you should use it more often. Now for an embarrassing admission: while at Whole Foods, buying my version of a crack baguette, I grabbed what I thought was parsley, but it was cilantro. Whole Foods can make me very anxious, there are too many people and I'm always getting knocked by carts, so I grabbed the first flat-leafed herb I saw and ran.

The gratin turned out perfectly, richly flavored and not too heavy, and tasting like summer. The mushrooms added a nice meatiness, and the Tumbleweed added bite. I was thrilled with my amendments. Except for the cilantro part, it was fine, it didn't detract at all, but parsley would be better. Do as I say, not as I do.

Summer Gratin

adapted from Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone by Deborah Madison*

This is not a thirty-minute meal, it is anything but. It takes hours to prepare. You could make things easier on yourself by stretching your tasks out over a few days. Make your rice one day, then make your bechemel the next night, on the third night, chop your vegetables and get to gratin-ing.

For the Herb Bechemel:

2 cups (scant 500 ml) milk

1/4 cup (30 g) diced onion

1 bay leaf

3 sprigs parsley

2 sprigs thyme

3-1/2 (47 g)tbsp butter

3-1/2 (35 g) tbsp flour

salt, pepper and nutmeg to taste

1/3-1/2 cup (25 g) chopped herbs (I used basil, marjoram, parsley [not really, but you should] and thyme, I also went for the larger amount)

In a saucepan, heat the milk over medium heat with the onion, bay leaf, parsley and thyme until bubbles begin to form, but the milk does not boil. Remove from heat and let steep for 15 minutes.

Strain milk into a measuring cup or tea pot, or whatever you have that's easy to pour from.

Make the roux: melt the butter, add the flour, and cook over medium heat for 2 minutes, stirring constantly. Quickly pour the milk into the roux and whisk until thickened. Let mixture come to a boil, stirring constantly. Reduce heat to very low and let cook for 20-25 minutes whisking occasionally. The mixture may be a little lumpy at first (mine was) but it should smooth out.

Season with salt, pepper and nutmeg. Stir in herbs. If you're not going to use it at once, place plastic wrap directly on the surface to prevent a skin from forming (I didn't do this, a skin formed, it was fine).

For the gratin:

measurements for vegetables are extremely approximate, the pictures show more or less what I used, so use that as a guide and improvise as much as you want.

3/4 cup (115 g) long-grained brown rice, cooked until tender

about 1/2 pound (260 g) summer squash

1/3 pound (150 g) mushrooms

1 small bell pepper

2 spring onions (you could also use 2 shallots or 1/2 a small onion)

2 tomatoes

2 tablespoons olive oil

1-1/2-2 cups (about 400 ml) Herb Bechemel**

1/4 cup (15 g) chopped parsley

2 tablespoons chopped marjoram, plus extra for garnish

1/2 cup (60 g) grated cheese (I used Tumbleweed, but you could use Parmesan or Ricotta Salata)

Salt and pepper
juice of 1/2 a lemon

Preheat oven to 375-degrees F (190 Celcius) and lightly oil a gratin dish (I used this pie pan, which holds 1.4 quarts or 1.5 liters. An oval dish would be better, with a round dish it takes a while for the center to brown.)

Coarsely grate your squash and toss it with a little salt, place it in a clean dish towel in a colander and set aside to drain.

Finely dice your onion and pepper and chop the tomatoes and mushrooms. Wring out the squash to rid of excess moisture. Heat the oil in a medium saucepan or a wide skillet over medium heat. Add onions and bell pepper and cook until softened, about 3 minutes. Add the mushrooms, tomatoes and squash and cook, stirring frequently, until the pan in dry and your vegetables have begun to color, about 15 minutes. Add 1/2 of the bechemel sauce, rice, herbs, and lemon juice. Add salt and pepper to taste. Smooth mixture into the gratin dish. Mix cheese and the remaining bechemel and smooth it over the top. Bake until the top is golden, about 25 minutes. Sprinkle with extra marjoram and serve.

*If you don't own this cookbook, buy it. Try the original recipe for this gratin and cook everything else in the book, you wont be disappointed.

**You could probably use a cream of mushroom soup, or something like that if you don't have time to make your own bechemel.

Final note: make this sherbet, it is so intense, you really only need a few bites to feel completely satisfied. (I'm big on the imperative today, aren't I?)

Michael Jackson memorial and contest

Today there is a memorial service for Michael Jackson at the Staples Center in Los Angeles, about 15 minutes from where I grew up and where I used to listen to Billie Jean on a walkman while sitting on the living room floor.

My mom started a gift basket company when I was about three-years-old, and one of her largest clients was MJ himself. He would send lavish gifts to his nearest and dearest, including his sister, Gregory and Veronique Peck (whom he thought of as a father), and Elizabeth Taylor.

My question for you is:

What animal did Mr. Jackson send to the above-mentioned celebrities on multiple occasions?

Please post your answers in the comments. The winner will be sent 1/2 pound of this cheese (I work at a cheese shop and have limited resources, it's not like I'm the Pioneer Woman over here), or if you're lactose intolerant or a cheese-hater we can work out some other deal. Seriously though, the Tumbleweed is insanely delicious, you want it, and I'll be posting a recipe using it in the next few days.

Finally, a little salute to the King of Pop himself, one of the greatest performers ever, when he was just a tender young thing, wearing awesome outfits and singing his heart out.

I Want You Back, by the Jackson 5

Eureka! Banana cake part 1

Remember this lonesome banana?

Well, I paired him up with these guys and made a cake.


A truly delicious, forgiving, easy to make cake that is the bastard child of my banana bread and Edna Lewis' Blueberry Cake. I also received a little help from this cake, which has been making the rounds on the internet lately. I have been playing around with proportions and flavors, and there is a part II to this story that involves peanut butter and chocolate.

Ms. Lewis' Blueberry Cake makes use of leftover berries from canning, which I sadly do not have, so I cook mine down. You end up with a beautiful little blueberry sauce, which is perfect on its own, though you could add a little sugar and cook it down if you feel like spending an extra few minutes slaving over the stove.

All I can tell you is that when Amir was sitting at the kitchen table eating this two-day old cake, and dipping it in the sauce, he seemed very happy to be back in New York.


Banana-blueberry-buttermilk cake

I made this in a 9" springform pan, but I think it would work just as well in a 8". You'll get a slightly thicker cake and a denser blueberry topping.

1 pint (250 g) blueberries
2 cups (130 g) all-purpose flour
1/4 tsp (1 g) salt
1/2 tsp (4 g) baking soda
1 tsp (4 g) baking powder
4 tbsp (56g) butter, softened
1/2 cup (70 g) sugar + 2 tbsp (35 g) for topping
1 over-ripe banana, mashed
1 egg
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) vanilla extract
1/2 cup (110 ml) buttermilk
1/2 tsp (3g) ground cinnamon

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Butter and flour an 8" or 9" springform pan.

Cook blueberries over medium heat until they begin to release their juices, about 3-4 minutes. Set aside.

Whisk together the flour, salt, baking soda and baking powder. Mix in the egg and vanilla.
Alternate adding the buttermilk and flour, starting and ending with the buttermilk.

Pour batter into pan. Using a slotted spoon, spoon cooked blueberries onto top of cake.

Stir together cinnamon and sugar and sprinkle on top of the cake.

Bake for 20-25 minutes, until cake is golden brown and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.

*You could probably make this cake with uncooked blueberries, you could probably do a lot of things to it. You could even melt the butter and just toss everything in a bowl. Play around, it's an immensely adaptable cake.