On Achieving Homeostasis: Fruit and Nut Granola Bars with Cacao and Sea Salt

I recently had my yearly physical.  My lipid profile aligned me with the Ikarians.  However, I also had a walnut-sized lump in my left breast that dictated a mammogram.  I am not sure why so many women complain about them.  Having your breasts smashed between two synthetic plates is nothing compared to having them biopsied, penetrated with a needle and then fished around in, like you were searching for car keys in an oversized purse.

Except instead of gathering keys, tissue samples are collected and sent to the lab for testing.  Then a tiny piece of titanium in the shape of a microscopic pigtail is inserted into your breast to tag the lump, and to be with you forevermore. Your boob is bruised.  Then you wait to hear if you have cancer. 

No one talks about this.  Most stop after the electromagnetic radiation.

In an attempt to explain homeostasis, I remember my sixth grade science teacher said a system will desperately try to maintain stability, no matter the cost.  It knows no other path.  If you stop and think, it’s quite incredible—whether a human body, the plant earth, or a broken hollandaise—forces react involuntarily to protect against stimuli that threaten to disturb the balance.

The system doesn’t always succeed.  But the internal fight is there.  So while I await biopsy results, I choose to distract myself by mashing some fruit and oats into squares, operating within the bounds of snack homeostasis. 

The coordinated alliance of figs, cherries, pecans, seeds, and grain melds with maple and honey.  Meanwhile, the added stick of butter threatens to make granola bars about as non-righteous as they can get; yet, also ensures equilibrium among the other ingredients.  It is browned until it becomes nutty and additionally harmonious.

I was worried the cacao would muck up the fruit and oat flavor.  That the nibs would become overpowering, an indolent shroud for the more virtuous bits.  But everything binds into something reminiscent of a seven-layer bar, with the malleable properties of a product put forth by the Quaker Oats man.

The result is glorious.

We tend to walk through life thinking in concrete terms.  Things are either healthy, or not.  Good or bad.  Yet, we are often standing on tectonic plates.

The best we can do is be open, and malleable, and have faith in the forces that bring us back to homeostasis.  And in those that bring us granola bars.

Fruit and Nut Granola Bars with Cacao and Sea Salt

Inspired by Nigel Slater from Ripe: A Cook in the Orchard

Ingredients:

110 grams (1 stick) salted butter (includes butter to grease the pan)

70 grams (about ½ cup) dried whole figs

60 grams (about ½ cup) pecan halves

40 grams (about ¼ cup) dried sour cherries

30 grams (about ¼ cup) sunflower seeds

180 grams (about 1¼ cups) rolled oats

20 grams (about ¼ cup) shredded unsweetened coconut

35 grams (about ⅓ cup) almond meal

50 milliliters (about 3½ tbsp) honey

50 milliliters (about 3½ tbsp) maple syrup (grade B preferable)            

90 grams (about a scant ½ cup) superfine sugar (see note)

15 grams (about 2 tbsp) cacao nibs (not chocolate covered)

heaping ⅛ tsp fleur de sel or other finishing sea salt

Instructions:

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees.  Butter a 9-inch square pan (I used a 11 x 7).  Remove the fig stems and quarter the figs.  In a food processor, finely chop the figs, pecans, cherries, and sunflower seeds until they hold together when pressed. (This can also be done by hand; the finer you chop the ingredients the better the bars will hold together.)  Place in a large bowl and mix in the oats, coconut, and almond meal.

In a large saucepan, melt the remaining butter on medium heat until it turns a deep golden brown and starts to give off nutty aromas; stir in the honey, syrup, and superfine sugar.  When the mixture comes to a rolling boil, add in the dry ingredients and mix thoroughly; stir in the cacao nibs.

Tip the mixture into the prepared pan and press it down firmly.  Scatter the salt evenly on top.  Bake for 20 to 30 minutes.  As it cooks, the edges should start to slightly puff up.  It is done when the rim is golden and the middle puffs up to meet the edges.  As the mixture cools, press it down again. When the mixture is still warm, but cool enough to easily handle, cut into 12 bars.

Let cool completely and then store in an airtight container for 5 days (or freeze).

Makes 12 bars

Notes:

-If you can’t find unsweetened coconut, you can use 200 grams (about 1⅓ cups) oats instead.

-If you don’t have superfine sugar, whirl regular granulated sugar in a food processor.  It’ll take about ¾ cup to make the amount of superfine sugar that you’ll need for this recipe (you may have just a little bit extra).

-If you use a 11 x 7 pan it may need a little more time to bake (closer to 30 minutes), whereas a 9-inch square pan will require a little less time.

Double Taza Stout and Stracciatella Ice Cream Con Panna and Good Humans

Good humans are among us.  I recently started dating one.

For one, he always puts the half and half away after making coffee in the morning.  This may seem simple.  But you might want to think twice about a person willing to let your milk spoil.

He was also able to provide three concrete reasons for getting a Christmas tree this year.  The smell.  The lights.  And as a meaningful adjunct to holiday cookies.

He counts his afternoon walk to Flour Bakery, for a coffee and chocolate chip cookie, as activity points.

He is concerned about taking too many dinner helpings for fear there won’t be lunch leftovers.

And though he doesn’t play fast and loose with compliments, they are really something when he dishes them out.

They catch you off-guard. Like claiming you look gorgeous after having just brushed your teeth.  Or calling you a genius for making ice cream. 

You’ll find instructions for such praise-inducing ice cream below. A version of this one.  But featuring local stout aged on cacao nibs from the Taza chocolate factory in Somerville, Massachusetts.  Then more of the same chocolate is finely shaved with a knife and added in shards the Italians call stracciatella, meaning little tears or shreds.

Stracciatella is often made by pouring a thin stream of chocolate into cold, churning ice cream and served con panna, or with whipped cream, at your request.  And reminds me of the gelato I had in Rome over a decade ago.  So I borrowed on this memory, adding in some espresso for good measure.  The bitterness, balanced by dark beer and set upright by chocolate, somehow makes the final product even greater than its parts.

And I really can’t take credit for all of that.  The praise belongs mostly to the instruction of Jeni Britton Bauer of Jeni’s Splendid Ice Creams.  And to the fine people at Taza chocolate and Night Shift Brewing who did the heavy lifting, lending talent and honoring fine ingredients. 

But that’s the thing about cooking. The one in front of the stove gathers the spoils. You can use a blueprint belonging to someone else, selfishly add some favorite flavors, and a memory or two from your past, and suddenly you’re the genius.  The good humans who have lent part of themselves in the way of instruction, or cacao, or beer make it all possible though.

In many ways, this all makes very little sense.  And, yet, perhaps the best way to reconcile it is to pillage yet another idea. A witticism from a storyteller artist and fellow human.

“There are things you do because they feel right and they may make no sense and they may make no money and it may be the real reason we are here: to love each other and to eat other’s cooking and say it was good.” –Brian Andreas

To share, and to care, and to eat chocolate may very well be the answer.  Merry Christmas.

Double Taza Stout and Stracciatella Espresso Ice Cream Con Panna

Adapted from Jeni’s Splendid Ice Creams at Home

Ingredients

2 cups whole milk, divided

1½ tbsp cornstarch

1½ ounces cream cheese, softened

1¼ cup heavy cream

2/3 cup dark muscovado sugar

2 tbsp brown rice syrup

pinch of salt

2 tbsp instant espresso

80 grams (just shy of 3 ounces) dark chocolate (i.e. Taza), cut into small shards

½ cup chocolate stout (i.e. Night Shift Brewing Taza Stout)

Optional: ¾ cup heavy cream (for a whipped cream topping)

Instructions

In a small bowl, mix 2 tbsp of the whole milk with the cornstarch.  In a separate medium bowl, whisk the cream cheese until smooth. 

In a medium saucepan, combine the remaining milk, heavy cream, sugar, brown rice syrup, and salt on medium-high heat, stirring occasionally until the mixture boils.  When it reaches a slow rolling boil, continue to stir occasionally for 4 minutes more.

Remove pan from the heat and stir in the instant espresso until it dissolves.  Meanwhile, prepare a large bowl with ice and a little water and put a smaller bowl inside the larger bowl with ice.

Return the infused espresso milk back on medium-high heat; gradually add in the cornstarch mixture and bring to a boil, stirring occasionally until it thickens (this will take a few minutes).  Remove from heat and slowly whisk some of the hot liquid into the cream cheese until smooth.  Add the cream cheese mixture to the saucepan with the remaining liquid; add stout; whisk to combine.

Pour into the prepared bowl on ice.  Let cool for about 30 minutes and then refrigerate until fully cooled (or overnight).

When ready, churn the mixture in an ice cream machine for 20 to 25 minutes, or until it gets thick and creamy and pulls away from the sides of the bowl.  At the very end of the churning, add in the chocolate shards (we are technically cheating here, deviating from stracciatella form).  Pack the ice cream in an airtight container.  Cover with parchment paper cut to fit the container and freeze for at least 4 hours.

If desired, before serving whip ¾ cup heavy cream and top ice cream.

Makes about 1 quart.

Notes:

-Chocolate covered cacao nibs would likely be great here too for added texture, but I'd encourage the chocolate shards regardless, they melt ably in the mouth.

-The brown rice syrup here is a stand-in for corn syrup, which can be used in a pinch. As can dark brown sugar in place of the muscovado.

Rye Cacao Nib Shortbreads. Plus, Don’t Be a Kimono-Wearing Earthworm.

In the “How Not to be an Earthworm” chapter of M.F.K. Fisher’s 1942 book, How to Cook a Wolf, she notes,  “A useful thing to have on your shelf is a supply of gingersnaps or vanilla wafers.”

Fisher was advising on the economical gastronomy of blackout rooms and emergency rations. But this struck a cord. The delicate nature of a thin, crisp cookie awards certain pleasures during most un-delicate situations. 

Useful advice.  I’ve been experiencing some residual effects of a very unromantic breakup and lease break.  Personal unpleasantries. To be clear, nowhere near wartime.  But psychological shrapnel nonetheless. 

I tend to recognize a hovering emotional raincloud when I start reflexive leisurewear shopping.  I’m drawn to glorified robes and wide legged pants.  Garments that I will probably try to pass off as “bohemian” on the street.

And so I found solace in Fisher’s plucky chapter on how to make the best of times in the worst of times.  I minded her warning against becoming a metaphorical earthworm.  Took note of her practical cookie employment.  And decided to dial down on the kimonos. 

Thus the protection today comes in the form of a steady supply of wispy shortbreads.  Of which I suggest a healthy therapeutic dose. 

The rounds are fairly mildly flavored, despite any preconceptions about rye.  It brings similar characteristics that whole wheat would, but I’d argue rye is slightly sturdier.  Pleasantly rustic.  And a fine partner for the cacao nibs, which have lingering whispers of coffee.  All of this is bound by butter and turns toffee-like after a few days.

My advice is to squirrel some away in your freezer.  They get better with age.  I also suggest you listen to Fisher with whatever battles you’re facing.  Cookies or no cookies.  She closes out her chapter by saying:

“Use as many fresh things as you can, always, and then trust to luck and your blackout cupboard and what you have decided, inside yourself, about the dignity of man.”

Rye Cacao Nib Shortbreads

Adapted from Orangette and Alice Medrich

Ingredients:

1 cup rye flour

1 cup all-purpose (or 1 scant cup whole wheat pastry flour)-see note

1 tsp cinnamon

1¾ sticks (14 tbsp) unsalted butter, softened

½ cup sugar

¼ tsp salt

1 tsp vanilla

1/3 cup chocolate covered cacao nibs

Instructions:

Sift the two flours and the cinnamon over a medium bowl.  In the bowl of a kitchen stand mixer, beat the butter, sugar, salt, and vanilla until smooth and creamy (but not overly fluffy), about 1 minute.  Scrape down the sides with a spatula and then mix in the cacao nibs.

With the mixer on low, add in the flour and then stir with the spatula until just incorporated.  Place the mound of dough onto plastic wrap and shape into a 12 x 2-inch log.  Wrap up the log and smooth out any uneven areas so it is fairly uniform in size. Refrigerate 2 hours or overnight.

Set the oven to 350 degrees and line 2 cookie sheets with parchment paper.  Using a sharp knife, cut the cold dough into ¼-inch slices and place about 1½ inches apart.  (You should be able to fit 12 to 15 per sheet.)

Bake 12 to 14 minutes, or until the cookies turn light golden brown at their edges.  (Rotate the pans half away through the cooking.) Leave them to cool for a minute or two and then place them on a wire rack to fully cool.  Repeat with remaining dough.

Yields about 40 cookies

Notes:

-These get better the longer they sit.  And I’ve found they turn nutty after about a week. (They last brilliantly in the freezer; Molly also mentions they’ll store at room temperature for up to a month, if they actually last that long.)

-I’ve made these with all-purpose and whole wheat pastry flour. Both with great results, though the whole grain lent a certain nutty edge.  It won’t be the end of the world if you use a full cup of the whole wheat pastry flour, but slightly less than that will make them less likely to crumble.

-You can order the nibs here.  

Stracciatella Rosemary Olive Oil Cake, Until Morale Improves

My kitchen and I are still getting used to one another. 

A recent roast chicken came out looking as though it had spent late summer in Saint Tropez without a drop of sunscreen, arriving leathery and suspiciously dark.  Cast iron seems to be the only sensible option for the stovetop.  And I am occasionally cutting burnt edges off broiled toast. 

I’m half tempted to post a threatening sign above my oven that reads: “the cooking will continue until morale improves.”  But then again, I have cake.  Cake has not given me problems. Go figure. 

And—whoa—this most recent recipe is really something.  It came about because I was in the mood for cake (when is one not?), but had frozen butter to contend with. Not one to give up on dessert—and not feeling particularly patient—I downshifted and went searching for a rich, oil-based sweet instead.  A magazine clipping for Kim Boyce’s spelt olive oil cake (with chocolate) was the front-runner.  Until I realized I didn’t have spelt.  Or whole wheat, for that matter.

I found a quick fix in The Babbo Cookbook, which promised a rosemary olive oil cake worthy of a midday glass of wine.  (I took them up on this, and did not regret it.)  So I came up with a compromise between recipes.  Boyce had to pardon the dearth of whole grain, and Babbo had to make room for chocolate.

The result is dessert in perfect harmony.  The rosemary is present, without being overpowering; it offers a nice herbal note that keeps the chocolate in line, but doesn’t fight with it.  Instead of chunks or chips, I shaved off Stracciatella-like shards from a salted almond Taza disk.  This way the chocolate lightly flecks, rather than invades.

To assuage any worried souls that I have been eating very little but cake the past few weeks, fear not.  I have instituted Roast Chicken Fridays.  Wherein I become a tragic soul who stays in, does laundry, reads some Malthusian theory, and vows to continue chicken roasting until the results are decidedly less tanning bed-esque.

Oh.  And I also finish the night in the company of rosemary cake with wispy chocolate bits, and a glass or two of wine.  Because Babbo said so.  And they have yet to do me wrong.

Stracciatella Rosemary Olive Oil Cake

Adapted from The Babbo Cookbook

Ingredients:

butter for the pan

4 eggs

¾ cup sugar

2/3 cup quality olive oil

2 tbsp finely chopped rosemary leaves

1½ cups all-purpose flour

1 tbsp baking powder

¾ tsp kosher salt

2 oz salted almond dark chocolate (or other chocolate of finest quality), thinly cut into shards or shaved

Instructions:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Butter a 10-inch loaf pan (I used a 10 x 3 inch pan, which is a bit narrower than usual, and had enough leftover batter to make 1 cupcake, as well); set aside.

In the bowl of a stand mixer, beat the eggs with a whip attachment for about 30 seconds; add the sugar and whip until foamy and pale yellow.  With the mixer still running, slowly (carefully) add in the olive oil.  Fold in the rosemary.

In a medium bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, and salt.  With the mixer on low speed, slowly add in the dry ingredients (about a third at a time).  Stop once all the flour has been added (it is okay to see bits of flour not yet incorporated).  Fold in the chocolate until the flour and chocolate bits are just combined (do not over mix).

Pour the batter into your prepared pan and bake for 35 to 45 minutes; rotate the pan halfway through the cooking.  The cake is done when golden brown and a toothpick or cake tester comes out clean after it’s inserted into the center of the cake.

Allow to cool briefly in the pan on a cooling rack and then run a knife around the edges of the pan to loosen the cake before tipping it out.

Notes:

-You may want to line the pan with parchment paper after you grease it (and then grease the parchment), to help ease the cake out.  Mine came out in one piece, but it was touch and go for a bit. 

-The original recipe bakes the cake at 325 degrees for 45 to 50 minutes.  I did not feel like waiting any longer than I had to.  

-The chocolate I used was 40% dark.  Also this isn't an overly sweet dessert, which makes it perfect as a snack or leisurely light breakfast.