Last winter, being lightly employed and nursing a resurgence of wrist and forearm numbness and pain, I up and bought a bread machine, apostasy for the serious baker. If beer ain’t drinkin’, a bread machine ain’t bakin’.

I had read a very positive review of the machine I ultimately [...]]]> This post is by Eat With Me contributor Susan!

Last winter, being lightly employed and nursing a resurgence of wrist and forearm numbness and pain, I up and bought a bread machine, apostasy for the serious baker. If beer ain’t drinkin’, a bread machine ain’t bakin’.

I had read a very positive review of the machine I ultimately bought (Zojirushi 1-lb) and thought, hey, if the machine could do the kneading and rise for me, sparing my wrists, and all I had to do was shape it and bake it in the oven, I was in.

OK, the lattice looks like it was vandalized, but it was a terrific pie!

And in fact, I did make a few very nice loaves this way. And during the winter this worked great. But this summer—one of the hottest on record on the East Coast—had me avoiding anything having to do with my oven. The exception being the gorgeous peach-blueberry pie I made in July on one of the hottest days of the summer. It was a fantastic summer for peaches—what could I do?

So, can you really make good bread in a machine? To help answer that, I consulted The Bread Lover’s Bread Machine Cookbook, by Beth Hensperger (also author of The Bread Bible), for a relatively simple recipe that would show what Zojirushi could do.

The winner was Hensperger’s recipe for olive oil bread, which involved making a biga starter.

Biga is an Italian sponge starter, made from water, flour, and yeast.

The dough rose beautifully—I just never get tired of seeing that, machine or no.

The baking bread smelled great, and looked pretty good when it came out of the machine.

It is true that machine breads have an odd shape—my machine makes a tall narrow loaf that you don’t see in the wild. And all machine-made breads have a notch where the kneading blade is embedded in the dough.

But still, the loaf was nicely browned and had a very good-looking crumb.

So, yes, the bread machine can turn out a good loaf of bread. I will always prefer a slow-rise oven-baked crusty bread, but this machine loaf was more than respectable, and still better than just about any store-bought bread. A group of friends shared this bread that evening and agreed. So long summer—it was a good one!

Ahh, this is the time of year I love. The sun is shining, the days are long, the produce is plentiful – but it’s sooooo hot! Especially in my sunbathed kitchen, after blasting the oven for 5 or 6 (who can remember?) straight hours in my quest for [...]]]> This post is by Eat With Me contributor Eve!

Ahh, this is the time of year I love. The sun is shining, the days are long, the produce is plentiful – but it’s sooooo hot! Especially in my sunbathed kitchen, after blasting the oven for 5 or 6 (who can remember?) straight hours in my quest for roasted chickpea snack perfection (this is my new little business venture, by the way). At least we have the ol’ A/C unit whizzing and whirring away in the bedroom. Paying it a visit is like dipping the toes in ice water: it helps, but it’s not as good as plunging right in. Anyway, I should have called it a day after my test kitchen adventures, but there was dinner to be had and special people to feed! Namely, Dan the Man and my friend Emily Case, who trudged from Brooklyn in this heat, a real trooper-lady. I made this festive frittata, inspired by a recipe (and lovely pictures) found on this sweet blog.

Mediterranean Frittata
(serves 10-12 as a nibble, 4-5 as a main dish)

7 eggs
1/2 cup milk
1/4 cup ricotta
1/4 cup grated pecorino
salt and fresh ground pepper

2 scallions, thinly sliced
1 cup spinach, washed, chopped, and wilted
1/2 cup kalamata or other oily black olive, pitted and chopped
zest of 1 lemon
3 cups cooked penne (whole wheat optional)

1 tbl. olive oil
1 tbl. butter

Preheat the oven to 350. Beat the eggs with the milk, cheeses, and s+p. Mix in the remaining ingredients, except the fats.

Place a large cast iron skillet over medium-high and heat the olive oil and butter, swirling to coat the bottom and sides. Pour the egg mixture in and lower the heat to medium. Cook untouched until the bottom and sides of the egg are firmed up (you can test this by separating the egg from the side of the skillet with a rubber spatula).

Place the skillet in the preheated oven and continue to cook for about 20 minutes, until the top is just firm. Remove the skillet from the oven and invert the frittata onto a plate. Then invert again onto another plate, or onto a cutting board, and cut into slices.

By now it’s not news: I love bread. A lot. And I’m lucky enough to live in the Boston area, home to several top-notch artisanal bakeries, so it’s way too easy to indulge. For some reason, and maybe somewhat appropriately, I took my time [...]]]> This post is by Eat With Me contributor Susan!

By now it’s not news: I love bread. A lot. And I’m lucky enough to live in the Boston area, home to several top-notch artisanal bakeries, so it’s way too easy to indulge. For some reason, and maybe somewhat appropriately, I took my time to try the bread from Concord (Mass.)-based Nashoba Brook Bakery, and am now making up for lost time. I seem to have internalized the philosophy embodied by the slow-rise bread movement, judging by how long it’s taken me to pull this fairly short post together.

Naturally yeasted, or spontaneously yeasted, bread is as old as civilization itself. Slow fermentation is an old-world baking method, and is still more commonly used in Europe than in the U.S. However, artisanal bakeries such as Nashoba Brook are reviving this tradition as part of the growing appreciation of real food in the U.S.. The result of this method of bread baking is a depth of flavor and texture that you just can’t get otherwise—if you love sourdough, this is the way to go. And while you can try this at home, it’s nice to know you don’t have to.

I made a quick visit to the bakery a couple of months ago, and loved how the building and bakery felt like a brewery—beer is really just liquid bread, after all! The equipment is different—check out this kneading blade!—but the slow-rise baking process has some loose parallels to craft brewing. Think ingredients: grain, water, yeast; process: slow fermentation, baking/brewing; and sublime results: beer and bread with complex flavor and texture.

Nashoba Brook Bakery and Cafe

Nashoba Brook Bakery opened in Concord in 1998 in an old warehouse. Founders and owners John Gates and Stu Witt were old friends who are today living the dream of running their own successful bakery. You can read more about this partnership and their business and baking philosophy here.

John credits Nancy Silverton’s LaBrea Bakery in Los Angeles as an inspiration for artisanal bread baking. Stu learned the craft from Michael London, the founder of Rock Hill Bakehouse in Glens Falls, NY.

John attributes the consistent quality of Nashoba Brook’s bread to his business partner’s approach to baking. As John phrased it, anything special about their breads is there because of Stu’s vision and commitment. Anyone can bake bread, but the quality of Nashoba Brook’s bread is directly related to the quality of the bakery’s day in and day out dedication to consistency and the slow-rise business philosophy: slow growth, maintaining a family tradition, and keeping the business small enough to keep the quality high.

Nashoba Brook Bakery Cafe is definitely worth a visit. The café is a comfortable, welcoming place to hang out and eat some great bread—the industrial setting belies the lovely view outside the café windows. The indoor views of the gorgeous bread are also worth a peek and taking a moment to savor some delicious bread.

One slow thing I like to do is to make my lunches to bring to work—here is one of my current favorites—almond butter & strawberry jam on Nashoba Brook sourdough. Now this is my idea of fast food. I’m lovin’ it!

This post is by Eat With Me contributor Eileen Glanton Loftus!

It’s no secret that oatmeal is hot. A major favorite of food bloggers, oatmeal is healthy, wholesome, cheap, and easy to customize. You can add fruit, nuts, syrup, even treats like chocolate chips, in combinations sure to please anyone at your breakfast table.

My oatmeal changes with [...]]]>

This post is by Eat With Me contributor Eileen Glanton Loftus!

It’s no secret that oatmeal is hot. A major favorite of food bloggers, oatmeal is healthy, wholesome, cheap, and easy to customize. You can add fruit, nuts, syrup, even treats like chocolate chips, in combinations sure to please anyone at your breakfast table.

My oatmeal changes with the seasons, and here’s the bowl I’m in love with right now. It lets my favorite spring-into-summer fruit, cherries, really shine, and the pop of cherries in the midst of creamy oats is a textural treat.

The last time I made this, I happened to have some leftover streusel from a recent pie-baking afternoon. The streusel took this one right over the top.

Cherry-Almond oatmeal

½ cup regular rolled oats
½ cup water
½ cup milk
½ cup chopped fresh cherries
1 Tbsp. cherry preserves (or other berry preserves)
1 Tbsp. slivered almonds

Combine oats, water and milk in a small saucepan. Cook, stirring frequently, until oats have absorbed almost all the liquid. Stir in cherries and preserves, top with almonds.

They looked skeptically at me. “Matt, we’re really going to wait in this line?”

We were standing outside Portland, Oregon’s original Voodoo Doughnut Shop (there are two now), located right near the city’s waterfront park on Southwest 3rd Avenue. And, of course, the answer to their question was “yes.” Maybe I’m a little too quick to pat [...]]]>

They looked skeptically at me. “Matt, we’re really going to wait in this line?”

We were standing outside Portland, Oregon’s original Voodoo Doughnut Shop (there are two now), located right near the city’s waterfront park on Southwest 3rd Avenue. And, of course, the answer to their question was “yes.” Maybe I’m a little too quick to pat myself on the back, but I have experience with high traffic food venues (a frequenter of New York’s Shake Shack) and I know persistence pays.

Before I go any further, I ask Eat With Me’s  health-conscious readership to suspend their discriminating tastes and get pumped about Voodoo Doughnut Shop. No matter how fatty and sugary it is, food that reaches the viral/buzz cred that Voodoo Doughnut has should be appreciated. The happy, hungry group of people waiting to get into the shop are there for a reason. People visit Portland to visit Voodoo. Some even plan  weddings at Voodoo. The donuts are newsworthy and available 24-hours a day. I mean, check ‘em out:

I was in Portland for my brother’s 21st birthday, a frequent flier mile splurge to visit the incredible microbrew scene out there. We were lucky enough to stay with our cousin Doug, who lives in Portland now, a few short weeks after his graduation from a local college.

Something like 95% of hops, an integral part of the brewing process, are grown in the Portland area. What results is a hotbed of beer geeks and brewpubs. As many of you know, my brother Ben has been brewing for a few years now (it’s totally legal to brew before turning 21; you’re just not allowed to try any of the beer!). Ben’s written a piece on a kegerator he built and also helped pull together a video series on bottling beer.

After more than our share of beer sampler trays, Ben and Doug agreed that I could try out the acclaimed donut destination. I first heard about Voodoo watching Anthony Bourdain on the Travel Channel:

Across the street from the shop, graffiti reads “Keep Portland Weird” and Voodoo does just that. Everything about Voodoo is edgy, glazed with anarchism, and sprinkled with puns.

When we got to the head of the line it had been almost an hour. Ben and Doug looked a little bleary-eyed and, I guess, so was I. I tried to pull the Anthony Bourdain clip up for them on my phone to keep them pacified. Nothing like the prospect of maple donut bars topped with bacon, but we hadn’t eaten anything yet that morning. We were starved.

Doug was startled out of his starvation by a familiar face — a former college classmate, now working at Voodoo. They caught up. We ordered our pick of 12 donuts (you can’t wait in line for an hour and get any fewer than a dozen) and, as I reached for my wallet, she said “forget about it.” Doug smiled–Portland has really become his city. He’s got friends everywhere.

We brought the dozen donuts out to the waterfront and chowed(/sampled) each one. The group’s favorite? Oh, it was between the aforementioned maple frosted bacon bar and the oreo, chocolate, peanut butter sensation that Russell Tyrone Jones shared a moniker with (R.I.P.), but which I’ve censored for the Eat With Me audience.

These donuts are serious. After sampling twelve donuts, taking a bite of each, I needed to recover with an hour and forty minutes in the dark. I spent this time watching MacGruber. I don’t know if it was funny or if I was just on a sugar high.

And, to pay tribute to the wonderful scenery and beers we drank in Portland, here’s a video of photos from our trip:

Create your own video slideshow at animoto.com.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who is feeling burdened by this new summer heat. Nor am I the only one enticed to spend all her free time in the wonderfully cool, AC-equipped bedroom rather than in her sweaty, humid kitchen. Still, I couldn’t imagine forfeiting my [...]]]> This post is by Eat With Me contributor Eve!

I’m sure I’m not the only one who is feeling burdened by this new summer heat. Nor am I the only one enticed to spend all her free time in the wonderfully cool, AC-equipped bedroom rather than in her sweaty, humid kitchen. Still, I couldn’t imagine forfeiting my time in the kitchen just over some oppressive heat. Besides, we can easily reduce the time we spend in the kitchen by making simple, healthful dishes that don’t require hours of lengthy prep or long, slow simmering to create. Hence the following dish that I whipped up for lunch yesterday. One pan, minimal prep, muy bueno!

Salmon fillet with mushrooms and onions
(serves 2)

- 1 large salmon fillet, skinless
- salt, freshly ground pepper, and red chili flakes to taste

- 1 tablespoon butter
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1/2 large vidalia onion, chopped
- 1/2 lb. (about 1 cup) white mushrooms, cleaned, destemmed and sliced
- 3 dried red chiles, or 1 fresh red chile, destemmed
- 2 sprigs fresh oregano, thyme, marjoram, or za’atar (wild oregano – I used my windowsill plant), or 1 tsp. dried herb of choice
- 1 lemon

1. Rinse the salmon fillet and pat dry. Sprinkle generously with salt, pepper, and chili flakes, and set aside. Place oven rack on top shelf and turn on broiler.

2. Heat the butter and olive oil in a large oven-proof skillet over medium heat until melted. Add the onion and saute a few minutes, until they’ve softened a bit. Add the mushrooms and the whole chiles and continue cooking, lowering the heat to medium-low, until the mushrooms have released their liquid and the onions are transparent. Stir in the herb of your choosing.

3. Slice half of the lemon thinly and lay the slices on top of the salmon fillet. Raise the heat to high and clear a space in the skillet to slide the fillet in, making sure it makes contact with the skillet bottom.

4. Cook for about 4 minutes, or until the bottom and sides of the fillet are opaque. Remove the skillet from the stove and carefully place it on the top rack of the oven. Broil for about 5 to 10 minutes, depending on your desired temperature (I did 5 minutes for a perfect medium-rare).

5. When finished, carefully remove the skillet from the oven (beware, it will be very hot!) and squeeze the remaining half lemon all over. Discard the whole chiles and serve the salmon and vegetables alongside a simple arugula salad.

This post is the first by Eat With Me contributor Eileen Glanton Loftus! Thanks @Jason Gulledge for the banana image.

We suburban parents are quick to embrace the rituals of modern parenthood. We do yoga with our infants, we buy strollers fit to handle any terrain, and as soon as our kids are old enough, we [...]]]>

This post is the first by Eat With Me contributor Eileen Glanton Loftus! Thanks @Jason Gulledge for the banana image.

We suburban parents are quick to embrace the rituals of modern parenthood. We do yoga with our infants, we buy strollers fit to handle any terrain, and as soon as our kids are old enough, we sign them up for sports. We buy tiny cleats, perhaps a lawn chair for watching games from the sidelines. And we sign up to be “snack mom.”

If you don’t have small children, you may be surprised by how frequently they eat. This is not actually a problem – most pediatricians and nutritionists advocate three modest  meals and two small snacks. It’s the quality that makes my head spin. At preschool and sports practice, kids routinely down potato chips, doughnuts and cookies, usually with a chaser of juice.

Do not, for a moment, think I’m a total purist. I ingested plenty of Pringles and Pepsi as a kid, and I truly believe that my parents’ willingness to supply a reasonable amount of junk food is the reason I don’t wildly crave it now.

But I think we parents can aim a lot higher. Why not try an orange after soccer practice, or grapes instead of Goldfish if you must provide a “snack that begins with a G.” Kids will complain for a while, but I think it’s never to early to introduce Michael Pollan’s maxim: “If you’re not hungry enough to eat an apple, then you are not hungry.”

The last day my 4-year-old daughter was responsible for her class snack, I asked her what she wanted to bring. She thought for a minute, then said, “How about bananas?” We hit two different stores, looking for the perfect state of ripeness, and she proudly took them to school to share with her classmates. Not every child ate one … but most did.

Two mothers stopped me in the hall that day to thank me. I was proud to tell them that it wasn’t my idea at all. It was a surprisingly radical move by my little daughter.

There is nothing sexier, in my opinion, than melted chocolate. And then to pour that deep, dark molten stuff into homemade vanilla frozen yogurt, made with the full-fat, tangy Greek stuff… well, that’s definitely not for innocent eyes.

WARNING: Viewer discretion advised:

Vanilla Frozen Yogurt Stracciatella (makes 1 quart) 3 cups Greek [...]]]> This post is by Eat With Me contributor Eve!

There is nothing sexier, in my opinion, than melted chocolate. And then to pour that deep, dark molten stuff into homemade vanilla frozen yogurt, made with the full-fat, tangy Greek stuff… well, that’s definitely not for innocent eyes.

WARNING: Viewer discretion advised:

Vanilla Frozen Yogurt Stracciatella
(makes 1 quart)

3 cups Greek yogurt
3/4 cup sugar
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

4 oz. dark chocolate (I used the Green & Black espresso varietal, it is insane), melted

1. Mix the yogurt, sugar, and vanilla well, until the sugar is completely dissolved and the mixture is completely uniform. Refrigerate for 1 hour.
2. Churn in your ice-cream maker according to the instructions. When the frozen yogurt is just about finished, pour the melted chocolate in a steady, slow stream into the churning fro-yo. A liquid measuring cup does the job well.
3. Remove the frozen yogurt into the storage container and enjoy immediately, or store in the freezer until ready to enjoy.

It’s positively sinful!

Eat With Me welcomes Eileen Glanton Loftus to our growing list of contributors — we are looking forward to her first post! To get yourself published on Eat With Me, fill out this form.

Eileen Glanton Loftus is a former reporter for the Associated Press. She has written for [...]]]>

Eat With Me welcomes Eileen Glanton Loftus to our growing list of contributors — we are looking forward to her first post! To get yourself published on Eat With Me, fill out this form.

Eileen Glanton Loftus is a former reporter for the Associated Press. She has written for national publications including Good Housekeeping and Forbes. A mother of three young children, she is on a constant quest to feed her family delicious, healthy food that is not shaped like a nugget. She lives in the suburbs of Philadelphia.