11.28.2016

MangiaMore: PUMPKIN cake with cream cheese frosting

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Jack-o-lanterns feel like decades away, fangs faded to gummy smiles. Festive gourds on stoops are withering with fall warmth and snaps of cold.  Mallow crème pumpkins are drying out, toothy with time. Pumpkin pie is buried in our bellies after Thanksgiving feasts, but the spices and stringy middles remain. Pumpkin has left its mark on this season with a damn delicious pumpkin recipe.
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Once a whole pumpkin, its innards and seeds were transformed into a scrumptious fall treat (well, two, but one was less successful than the other). We used boiled and mashed pumpkin from our first attempted dessert—a pumpkin pie— to create a modified version of damn delicious’s pumpkin cupcakes with cinnamon cream cheese frosting. Instead of cupcakes, we doubled the recipe to make a sheet cake. And it was truly delicious.
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Other modifications were made to the easy-to-make recipe. We did not have pumpkin pie spice (as I have said before, it costs far more than I prefer to spend), so we whipped up a small batch of our own, minus the nutmeg (which we legit did not have).  Instead of using the full amount of oil for a doubled recipe, we used unsweetened applesauce to lighten the load.
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In the end, the cake sang fall. The intense exterior and almost savory middles of the squash forfeited stiffness and vegetal notes, and melted and surrendered to the sweet spices of cinnamon and allspice and all that makes fall. On top, the cinnamon cream cheese frosting was subtle with the tang of the cheese and kept the moisture in. Because there was only layer and one thick strip of frosting, the cake was not too sweet and laden with butter and powdered sugar.  Each slice was fluffy and light, airy and warm. So delicious.

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11.25.16
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11.12.2016

photo op: this IS fall

RER 10.28.16
Fall is spicy and sweet, pumpkins and apples, warmth and cool air.  Fall is the mix of cold mornings and sunny afternoons with the rustle of leaves, amber from the changing seasons. Fall is light when it used to be dark and dark when it used to be light.  Fall is a mix of dichotomies, opposites that attract and mingle and meld to make the beautiful.
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A few weekends ago, fall was the smell of sliced fat apples warming in brown sugar and butter, seeped in spices. I finally was able to use some gifted apples (I am a teacher) and made fall tumble into my newish kitchen.  The roasty caramelized apples sat atop some plain Greek yogurt and meal-prep protein waffles for a scrumptious and comforting autumnal brekkie. No recipe, just brown sugar, butter, cinnamon, vanilla, allspice, love, and fall.
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How have you cooked up fall?
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11.12.16
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10.10.2016

that WAS summer: North End Grill



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It’s another season now. But it was fun while it lasted— while the strawberries were red and ripe, sweet and juicy; the tomatoes plump with little give; and the green zucchinis were bright, mellow, and plentiful. That was summer.
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It’s fall now, but I can still taste the late summer at North End Grill.

I can feel the gritty bread in between my teeth and the sandy chunks of sea salt sprinkled by my own hand in the sweet and creamy butter.
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I can feel the effervescent bubbles tingle and pop on my tongue as I sipped sparkling wine, and the slinky flesh of oysters glide with obvious luxury passed my lips.
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I can smell the hot fresh garlic painted on thin crust studded with plump little clams, gems of succulent meat not nearly attached to the crisp foundation, and the fresh aroma of decadent butter and fresh herbs, green moments.
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I can taste the acidity and oil emulsified with summer tomatoes, smeared on just thick enough bread, toasted till cratered and crunchy. Savory small smoky anchovies languish on the textured toast and tomato, and peppered fragrant rosemary.
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I can taste the fatty rounds of trotter torchon, speckled pink and white, marbled and  indulgent, crowned with dressed greens and a string of aioli.
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I can smell the ribbons of bright zucchini draped in fat flakes of pecorino cheese, earthy, salty, dry, rounded off with studs of anchovies, pretty summer on a plate, herbs and all.
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I can hear the unmistakable crunch of French fries made crisp in duck fat, creating a solid layer of refined crust and a slender soft interior.
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I can see the vivid red strawberries, arranged like an origami flower, layered on top of a sweet cookie shell, with a smooth dollop of strawberry cream, and fresh rounds of savory basil gel.
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I can see the cityscape from the high-above roof garden, a vista of Battery Park, and lines of trimmed and plucked produce, already in use at North End Grill below.

I miss summer, but I can fall for fall, too.
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