#effingdelicious

Crispy Cabbage with Roasted Green Onion Dressing

Honeyed Nut and Seed Bars

In case y’all haven’t noticed: we like to eat. And, when we don’t get fed, we go from zero to I-will-eat-your-soul real fast.

Hangry was OK when we were in college, but as adults, it ain’t cute. Hanger has ruined dates and meetings-- and maaaybe could have been the motivation behind one or two (hundred) strongly worded emails to customer service representatives. Maybe.

We deserve better. The poor souls dealing with the brunt of our food rage deserve better. In an effort to make our lives and the world a bit of a less grump’ed upon place, we started to carry snacks. Everywhere.

But finding the right snack has been a challenge. It has to be sturdy enough to live at the bottom of our purse, which rules out fruit (squish) and crackers. It needs to be stable at room temperature, so no yogurt or cheese. And we want something that makes us feel like we’ve eaten food. For us, satiety means protein, fiber  and a little sugar to perk us up.  

Snack bars made with nuts, fruit, and honey ended up being the perfect solution.

But buying snack bars isn’t exactly kind (heh) on our budget, so we decided to make our own. The recipe here is a real basic, 101-level start to snack bars. It’s stupid fucking easy and endlessly customizable. Be brave, play with flavors, and maybe try dipping them in chocolate, after they’re all cooked, cut, and cooled. Because duh.

Honeyed Nut and Seed Bars

2 cups raw, unsalted Nuts-- whatever you have on hand! We like a combo of Cashews, Hazelnuts, and Walnuts.

¼ cup of Flax or Chia Seeds-- or other stuff, like coconut or dried fruit.

½ cup Honey

¼ cup Light Brown Sugar

¼ cup neutral-tasting Oil-- or not neutral tasting! Play with flavor profiles! Try coconut oil with cayenne and cocoa powder, or olive oil with black pepper!

1 tsp Vanilla Extract

1 tbsp Cinnamon

¼ tsp Ground Ginger

Note: This is not a snack you want to cook on an unlined dish. It just won’t work; you’ll hate us, you’ll hate yourself, you’ll hate crusted cookie sheet for soaking in your sink over the next eleventeen months. So! Make sure you have parchment or a silicone sheet on hand. Foil can work in a pinch, but can leave behind tiny metal shards. Yum. Be careful.

Preheat your oven to 350°. Line a baking sheet or large casserole dish-- something flat with sides-- with parchment or a silicone sheet. Dump all of the ingredients in a bowl. Stir it real good. Spread on the lined sheet in an even layer about ½ inch thick.

Bake for about 10 minutes, until the nuts are a little browned, the honey is bubbly and a deeper golden hue, but before things burn or turn dark brown.

Cauliflower Gratin with Ham Breadcrumbs

Cauliflower is one of the most magical vegetables we know. It’s a work horse, standing up to whatever weird contortionist acts low-carbers, vegans, and paleos throw at it. One day it’s rice, the next it’s an analogue for buffalo chicken. We read a recipe the other day where someone used it to make fucking brownies. For all that hard work, cauliflower deserves a long, decidedly straightforward, culinary nap. Preferably one under velvety blanket of gruyere spiked bechamel.

Cauliflower Gratin with Ham Breadcrumbs is exactly what it says on the tin. No fancy trickery or witchcraft about it. And it’s the duh-you-dummy, super easy side you need in your life this spring. For brunches, for baby showers, for religious holiday potlucks-- even for eating straight out of the pan in “yoga” pants while you watch the teevee. Technically a vegetable but mostly cheese sauce that’s gone crispy at the edges: serve it at your fanciest foodie soiree, or give it to your grandma. It is a great equalizer that’s universally adored. Cauliflower Gratin is literally everything.

While we firmly believe that brassicas don’t need cheese to be the best dish on your table: We are vast, we contain multitudes. Sometimes you need a fucking gratin. Sorry that we’re not even remotely sorry

Cauliflower Gratin with Ham Breadcrumbs

One 2lb head of Cauliflower-- which should equal about 4 cups of veggie

3 tbsp Butter

1 clove Garlic, peeled and cut in half.

2 tbsp Flour

1 ½ cups Whole Milk

½ cup Half and Half or Heavy Cream

4 oz Gruyere-- which should equal about 1 cup shredded

¼ cup grated Parmesan, plus an additional ¼ cup as topping

Hardly any Nutmeg (see below)

Salt, Black Pepper, to taste

1 ½ cups Ham Bread Crumbs (recipe down yonder!), or regular ones if you’re feelin lazy

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A quick note on Nutmeg and what it does to cream sauces:

Nutmeg is a classic French addition to lots of gooey or carby dishes. It has the peculiar effect of simultaneously making heavy foods taste richer and warmer while reducing any fatty or greasy flavor.

It’s definitely a genius, tasty move and creamy dishes can feel lacking without it-- but use it very, very sparingly.

Think of it like tightliner. You tightline when you don’t want to look like you’re wearing a full face of makeup. You tightline when you want to look like you are a fucking effortless MPDG cupie doll. Similarly, nobody wants to actually taste nutmeg in a savory dish. You just want your cheese sauce to be secretly and mythically spectacular. Use a pinch and then cut that pinch in half.

Got it? Good.

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Preheat your oven to 350°

Remove the outer leaves from your cauliflower and trim up any dry or gnarly looking edges of the remaining white stuff. Using a knife you feel comfortable wielding, separate the florets from the stalk into thumb-sized chunks. Then cut the stalks into thin strips, planks, or even cubes that are about ¼ inch thick. There’s no room for wasting stalk in this dish or in our lives. It’s just as delicious (and facilitates the consumption of cheese just as well) as the fluffy ends.

Place the chopped cauliflower onto a cookie sheet lined with tin foil and roast in the oven to get a head start for 10-15 minutes-- which is conveniently long enough to make the bechamel.

In a large saucepan, melt the butter over low heat with a peeled clove of garlic that has been cut in half. Keep going until the garlic gets a little frizzled on the edges, and then fish out the clove. We just want a little hint of something special in the background, so just a little garlic is all you need. Add the flour and cook, stirring frequently, until the flour becomes lightly browned and nutty. This is a roux. It is wonderful.

Stir in the milk and half and half into the roux, and let things simmer until thickened slightly. It should be the consistency of a mostly melted milkshake. Kill the heat and fold in the gruyere and ¼ cup of parmesan. Sprinkle in the barest whisper of nutmeg. We’re talking, like, a mouse fart friends. Hardly anything.

Transfer the par-cooked cauliflower to the final baking dish (casserole, cast iron, whatever you’ve got handy), and cover in the cheese sauce. Give it a taste with a piece of cauliflower and season with lots of black pepper and a little salt (depending on how salty your cheeses are). Toss the cheese sauce and cauliflower well. Sprinkle the top with Ham Bread Crumbs (below), and bake at 350° until bubbly, browned, and delicious.

Ham Bread Crumbs

4 oz ready-to-eat (or left over!) Country Ham or another favorite cured Pork product. Bacon wouldn’t be terrible.

1 tbsp Butter

A chunk of Baguette or other delicious bread about the size of your fist.

Finely dice the country ham and place in a large skillet to render over medium heat. Cook, stirring frequently, until some fat and juicy deliciousness is released and the ham starts to brown on the edges. If things look dry, add 1 tbsp of Butter.

While the ham renders, slice your baguette into small chunks and toss it into your food processor or blender. Give it a bzz to chop it up real little.