A bit of shameless self-promotion to begin the new year. Clearly my resolution to be more humble has gone out the window along with my promise to wake up at 5:30am and head for the gym (in my defense, I suffered an odd neck spasm that even 12 Advil a day hasn’t completely alleviated).

The proud moment, this lunch lady bit on one of my favorite blogs, Oh Joy!

Click here for the gory details on what this lady lunches on: http://ohjoy.blogs.com/my_weblog/

I’ve unfortunately never gotten around to writing down the recipe for roasted butternut squash and apples seen in the photo, but I think it goes roughly like this:

FALL HARVEST SANDWICH WITH ROASTED BUTTERNUT SQUASH, APPLES, AND STILTON

Equipment: large rimmed baking sheet, foil, serrated knife, vegetable peeler, metal spoon, cooling rack

1 medium butternut squash
2 to 3 firm-fleshed apples, such as Granny Smith or Gala
Olive oil
3 tablespoons packed light brown sugar
2 teaspoons finely grated zest and 1 tablespoon juice from 2 lemons
Salt
Aleppo pepper or red pepper flakes
1 ounces stilton
Crusty bread of your choice
Arugula (optional)

- Adjust oven rack to middle position and preheat oven to 425°F. Line large rimmed baking sheet with foil.

- With a serrated knife, trim off about 1 inch from top and bottom of squash. Stand the squash up, and peel with a vegetable peeler. Be sure you’ve removed enough to see the bright orange flesh of the squash.

- Cut the squash where it curves, then cut that rounded piece in half. With a metal spoon, scoop out the seeds and discard.

- Slice squash into ¼-inch slices and arrange in single layer on prepared baking sheet.

- Peel, core (a metal 1-teaspoon measure works wonderfully), and cut apples into 8 wedges; add to baking sheet.

- Drizzle squash and apples generously with olive oil, then sprinkle with brown sugar and lemon zest. Season generously with salt and Aleppo pepper to taste. Toss everything together, rubbing with fingers to ensure even seasoning and coating. Arrange in single layer.

- Roast until vegetables are tender and slightly charred, 35 to 45 minutes.

- Transfer baking sheet to cooling rack and cool to room temperature. Adjust seasoning and add lemon juice.

- To assemble sandwich, slice crusty bread, drizzle crumb with olive oil, and toast if desired. Pile bread with squash and apples, crumble Stilton over everything, and tuck in arugula. Enjoy!

On average, two to four baked goods are produced in my kitchen on a weekly basis. During the Christmas season, that number rises exponentially. Today for instance, had you dropped by for a visit, I could have offered you fruitcake, homemade s’mores with a marshmallow cap torched á la minute, chocolate cake roll with salted caramel buttercream filling, chocolate meringue batons, and pink peppermint meringue kisses to go along with your coffee or tea.

I’ve even ventured into cookie baking territory as evidenced by this weeks “Dreamy Crack Bars” post. Here is the other type of cookie I like to bake during this holly jolly time of year: nubby, crumbly, buttery, sugar-dusted Mexican wedding cakes, festooned and prettied up with Grinch-green pistachios, sunny orange zest, and exotic, floral cardamom.

I took them to the annual Serious Eats cookie swap just last week and will be making a few more batches for people on my “Nice” list.

ORANGE, CARDAMOM, &  PISTACHIO MEXICAN WEDDING CAKES

Equipment: food processor, electric mixer, 2 baking sheets, parchment paper, cooling rack, mixing bowls

Makes about 32 cookies

1 cup roasted, salted, shelled pistachios
1 tablespoons finely grated orange zest
8 ounces (2 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature
2 cups confectioners’ sugar
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
2 cups all-purpose flour
¾ plus 1/8 teaspoon ground cardamom
¼ teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon ground cinnamon

Pulse pistachios and orange zest in food processor until almonds are coarsely ground. Set aside.

In large bowl, beat butter on medium-high speed until light and fluffy, about 1 minute. Pause mixer and add ½ cup confectioners’ sugar. Beat on low speed until fully incorporated, about 30 seconds. Scrape sides and bottom of bowl with rubber spatula; add vanilla. Mix on medium-high speed until incorporated, about 10 seconds.

Pause mixer. Add flour, ¾ teaspoon cardamom, salt, and nut mixture; mix on medium-low speed until dough comes together, 60 to 90 seconds.

With rubber spatula, scrape sides and bottom of bowl, patting dough down to unify it. Cover bowl with plastic wrap and refrigerate 30 minutes.

Meanwhile, adjust oven rack to middle position and heat oven to 350°F. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper.

Using a 1 tablespoon measure, scoop dough out onto prepared baking sheets, then quickly roll them between palms into balls and space them ½ inch apart. Lightly press cookies down to ½-inch thickness.

Bake cookies until golden brown on bottom (they will remain pale on top) 15 to 20 minutes.

While cookies bake, whisk together remaining 1 ½ cups confectioners’ sugar, remaining 1/8 teaspoon cardamom, and cinnamon in large bowl; set aside.

Transfer baking sheet to cooling rack and cool cookies on sheet for 5 minutes. Gently toss warm cookies in confectioners’ sugar and transfer to cooling rack to cool completely, 30 to 60 minutes.

Cookies will keep in an airtight container for up to 1 week.

There was bad juju in the kitchen today. Three batches of bad caramel (one due to being f¡#*^*! by Martha again). One bowl of buttercream that didn’t set up right, despite multiple attempts to save it via ice bath—I suspect it heard me cursing it under my breath and melted into a soupy mess to spite me. A second bowl of buttercream that would not fully incorporate the salted caramel.

I washed all the pots and decided it best to hang up my apron and call it a day. (I also ran out of eggs).

These meringue buttons and batons were the only saving grace out of the afternoon’s mess. These are pink peppermint, and there’s a batch of chocolate ones cooling in the kitchen, ready to decorate tomorrow’s cake.

Because there will be cake and the buttercream and caramel will behave.

Tomorrow I jet off to Playa del Carmen for a wedding. Sunshine! Palm trees! Day drinking! Bliss!

Don’t get too jealous—there is a snag in my cartwheeling and twirling. A couple of days ago I called the bride and sheepishly admitted, “I blanked out and forgot to go to the gym the past three months.”

Instead of going on a crash diet and spraying myself a darker shade of Oompa to cover up my trespasses, what have I done the past few days? Continued to eat as if I were headed to the North Pole for the winter.

Today, for instance, involved testing a recipe several times over and by the afternoon I had acquired a few extra thigh dimples thanks to copious amounts of chocolate mousse, sticky Italian meringue, and cookies that I insisted on tasting for quality control (never mind that I was testing assembly methods and the actual recipe was the same each time).

But you know what? I’m not too worried. I found a lovely ombré coral wrap that will look just fabulous poolside.

I think this would work as a chandelier, no? Spotted at Caribbean Cuts in the Flower District. Something lovely to make up for the not-so-tidy bits that follow.

Wednesday morning rose bold and bright: perfect for a day at the market. I met up with photographer Judd Pilossof at the corner of Grand and Chrystie. We were going to walk around Chinatown and pick up a few things for a test shoot we’d planned.

Fish, shrimp, eels, crabs, clams, oysters, lobsters, frogs, turtles——if it once called a large (or glass-encased) body of water home, you’re likely to find it here. For the shoot: crabs and fish, and because the vegetables and dried herbs in that neighborhood can’t be ignored, bok choy bursting into tiny yellow blossoms and dried night-blooming cereus (a passer-by informed us it was good for the lungs when used to make tea).

The photos from the shoot are wonderful and I will share them in due time, but in the meanwhile, some curious parts spotted at one of the markets:

“¿Me dá para mi calaverita?”

Mexico and several other Latin American countries honor the dead today by celebrating día de los muertos, Day of the Dead. Children will knock on doors and ask for money or food, families will festively decorate the graves of their loved ones, and this curious pan de muerto will be baked and shared.

Pan de muerto is a sweet, soft bread, coated with sugar and perfumed with orange blossom water. During its preparation, part of the dough is reserved and used to decorate the loaves with shapes echoing those of human bones. Different versions exist, with breads showcasing flora, fauna, and mythical creatures as décor. Even if you won’t be rapping your knuckles on stranger’s doors on behalf of your calaverita, this is a festive and beautiful bread that’s worth trying.

For the recipe, visit Serious Sweets .

I was completely enchanted by these Concord grapes a few weeks ago when I visited the greenmarket by Lincoln Square. They were deep, midnight violet hiding under a gossamer bloom and intensely perfumed. The strong scent of sheer purple was discernible from a distance and provoked flashes of childhood’s gloppy grape jelly, drippy grape popsicles, and intoxicating grape juice.

The grapes’ velvety jackets are easily slipped off to reveal chubby, translucent green flesh with rather large, crunchy seeds. I usually chew right through these, but while testing this week’s Concord Grape Cake for Serious Sweets I found that they created too much of a distraction. In that recipe, they are removed, leaving you nothing but tender cake mottled with small explosions of grape and a thick topcoat of made-from-scratch jam.

I was working on a chocolate-coated cookie recipe recently, and, neat as I try to be, chocolate is not something I’m very good at keeping under control. I’d like to think it’s like refusing to color within the lines: It’s creative! It’s liberating! It’s fun!

This is what the aftermath of all this creative, liberating, and fun chocolate activity left behind. Rather pretty, no?

I love the seductive, deep, blood red tint of summer cherries. Pitting them transfixes me, the burgundy juice gushing out as if from a fresh wound. Perhaps I was a surgeon in a previous incarnation.
Or a vampire bat.

Make sure you see this week’s Serious Sweets cherry-laden, rum-laced tartouillat recipe.

I baked, frosted, and bedazzled 100 cookies to decorate a Christmas tree for Woman’s Day TV segment. I continue to find sprinkles embedded in my living room carpet.

Do you know, it takes an awfully long time to settle back in after being away for Christmas? No? Then you must be much more organized than I, although, I truly did putter about like new wind-up doll stocked with fresh batteries writing correspondence and making phone calls, taking on a Mount Everest-esque heap of laundry, sorting bills, picking sprinkles out from the carpet (see photo above), mailing out belated holiday gifts…Don’t look at me like that—I know I was delinquent in my elf duties. The worst of it is, I wrote a whole blog entry about how 2010 was the year when I would send out cards and presents in a timely fashion. Lump of coal in my stocking.

What did you do for the holidays? Lots of presents, clinking bubble-filled crystal, and manageable family brawls, I hope. For me, it was southern California, which was a complete washout. The sun refused to shine in its usual carefree way, the house windows looked like they were weeping. No matter—I got to spend some quality time with my mom in the kitchen*.  We cooked and baked every day, and, while this may seem like a non-vacation, we look forward to our time in the kitchen, and odd ducks that we are, actually enjoy doing the dishes.

And now, the pièce de résistance! Nicas, gather round and take notes, because this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, a very special Christmas gift from me to you. My grandmother’s top-secret family recipe for relleno! My mamamá would surely murder me in my sleep for sharing, but she doesn’t use the internet…Does she?

For those non-compatriots, a brief explanation of Nicaraguan relleno:

Relleno means stuffing, but erase your mental pictures of American bread-cube stuffing and dressing because this version is of an entirely different genus and species. I’ve found no original recipe, no documentation on who made this recipe first, but relleno is a contentious subject to Nicas;  recipes are usually closely guarded and unique to each household.

Relleno is made by combining finely chopped pork (I’ve heard of people using chicken, but in my book, that’s sacrilege), panade, and many condiments and stirring everything in a pot for many hours. Mamamá’s recipe is famous and, when she was younger, used to be available for purchase. I remember her standing over a cauldron-like pot in the cement patio in her kitchen in Granada, arduously pushing against a broomstick of a spoon to prevent the bubbling mixture from sticking, beads of sweat wrung out by the deepening furrows in her brow. Granted, she was making at least sixty pounds’ worth, but relleno is labor intensive even in small batches.

Everything but the kitchen sink.

This year, my mom and I started with an insignificant two pounds of pork and it still required the use of two large pots and three hours of stirring. Relleno’s consistency is thick, but spreadable in the manner that rillette or refried beans are. Its color is deep, burnt sienna studded with the green and deep purple of olives, capers, and raisins. The flavor is a balanced blend of sweet, salty, and sour. In some areas of Nicaragua, on Christmas Eve the main event at dinner is a roast hen stuffed with relleno, but my family normally serves it alongside a more gringo roast turkey.

It makes up in flavor what it lacks in looks.

Without further ado, the recipe. ¡Les queda la receta para el año que viene!

RELLENO NAVIDENO CHAMORRO BARILLAS

You will need the largest mixing bowls in your kitchen, and your largest pots. I used a Dutch oven and a 12-inch skillet with straight sides. While the depth of the pots is important, it’s not as important as the surface area. Relleno will start as a pale, soupy mixture, but as it cooks, it will reduce and thicken. The larger the surface area of your pot, the more quickly it the relleno will achieve desired consistency.

This recipe is at its core, my grandmother’s, but in every household, seasonings and garnishes vary. In the ingredients list I call for a base amount, but you are free to add more or less salt, Worcestershire, olives, capers, etc., to taste. If this is your first time with the recipe, I recommend following it closely and, on your second and third tries, making additions and subtractions.

And please, don’t contact me if you choose to defile the recipe with outrageous additions like cumin or choose to start with raw ground pork. No. No. No.

For the base: Cooking the Pork
2 pounds pork loin, cut into 1½-inch chunks
Salt and pepper
1 medium yellow onion, peeled and cut into quarters
1 medium green bell pepper, stemmed, seeded, and cut into quarters
6 garlic cloves, peeled
2 bay leaves

- Generously season the pork with salt and pepper. Place the pork in a Dutch oven or large pot along with onion, bell pepper, garlic, and bay leaves. Fill the pot with enough water to cover (2 to 3 quarts) and bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce heat to medium-low and simmer until the pork is cooked through, about 20 minutes, skimming the surface with a large spoon from time to time.

- With a slotted spoon, transfer pork to a large bowl. Strain the broth into a second large bowl and discard the cooked vegetables.

For the relleno
1 medium yellow onion, peeled and cut into 1-inch pieces
1 medium green bell pepper, stemmed, seeded, and cut into 1-inch pieces
1 medium yellow bell pepper, stemmed, seeded, and cut into 1-inch pieces
8 garlic cloves, peeled
1 (28-ounce) can plum tomatoes
2 loaves white sandwich bread, such as Wonder®, about 2 pounds total, torn into pieces
6 large eggs, well beaten
¼ cup Worcestershire, plus additional for seasoning to taste
½ cup sweet gherkins,  finely chopped
6 tablespoons granulated sugar, plus additional for seasoning to taste
1 pound unsalted butter
Salt
8 ounces raisins
1½ cups pimento stuffed green olives, liquid reserved
1 cup cocktail onions, drained
½ cup capers, drained

- Place the half of the cooked pork, onion pieces, green and yellow bell pepper pieces, garlic cloves, plum tomatoes and their liquid, and ½ cup of reserved broth in a food processor and pulse until finely ground. Transfer to a large bowl and repeat with the remaining half of the pork, vegetables, and an additional ½ cup of reserved broth. Transfer to the large bowl with first batch.

- In a separate large bowl, combine the bread with 8 cups of reserved broth. Mash the mixture with a fork until the bread is completely dissolved. Thoroughly stir in the beaten eggs, Worcestershire sauce, gherkins, and sugar. Add the ground pork mixture and thoroughly combine.

- Divide the butter between two large, deep pots. Melt the butter over medium-high heat. Divide the relleno mixture between the two pots and begin stirring. After about 45 minutes of cooking, the relleno should begin to thicken and acquire a bronze tint. Stir in the raisins, olives, cocktail onions, and capers and continue to stir. Taste and season with salt, Worcestershire, and/or sugar (I like to add some of the reserved olive brine in lieu of salt). Two to three hours of stirring later, your mission is completed.

- Serve relleno as a side at the Christmas table. Leftovers are great on toast or crackers,  or may be frozen in a zipper-lock bag for up to two months.

*I say “quality.” Mom might have other qualifiers to describe the experience. Pobrecita.