Wear waterproof mascara.

Soupe a L'Oignon

There are times when I am up for the challenge of trying out a complicated, showy, top-chef quality recipe that tests my skills and wows my guests. Naturally, there isn't enough time (or funding) to cook like that every day. While the plating and flavours are often extraordinary, they often lack the all important comfort factor. And I must say there is nothing worse than the overwhelming feeling of disappointment if the overall dish turns out to be a failure. That's when I'll turn my focus back to the classics - those fool proof dishes that ooze comfort and familiarity.

They are a true testament to the notion that less is more - a few choice (and most often affordable) ingredients can transform into a seductive and nostalgic dish that fills the void left by any previous failures. Coco Chanel's advice on accessories was to always take one thing off before leaving the house. I find that this advice transcends fashion and applies to food as well.

I think Coco would agree with me that classic Onion Soup is a dish that will never go out of style. This hearty soup is mellow and sweet, simple yet stunning. Slow cooking coaxes out the natural sugars in the onions while wine and beef stock add depth. In this version I used a light red wine rather than my usual choice of a dry white. This added a deeper layer of heartiness which complimented the caramelised onions. So when all else fails, be it a new recipe you tried or a tough day at work, sit back and tuck into a comforting, steaming bowl of onion soup.

Soupe a L'Oignon - adapted from Paris by Williams-Sonoma

• 2 1/2 lb yellow onions
• 3 tbs unsalted butter
• 1 tbs canola oil
• pinch of sugar
• salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 2 cups light red or dry white wine
• 8 cups beef stock
• 1 bay leaf
• 3 sprigs of thyme
• 6 thick slices coarse country or french bread, 1 1/2 inches thick
• 3 cups shredded Comte or Gruyere cheese

Thinly slice the onions lengthwise and set aside. In a large, heavy pot over medium low heat, melt the butter with the oil. Add the onions, cover and cook, stirring occasionally, adding the sugar and seasoning to taste with salt and pepper. Cook until the onions are meltingly soft, golden and lightly caramelised, 25-30 minutes.

Add the wine and raise the heat to high. Simmer until the liquid is reduced by half, about 8-10 minutes. Next add the stock, bay leaf and strip the leaves off the thyme sprigs into the soup. Reduce the heat to medium low and allow to simmer, uncovered, until the soup is dark and full flavoured, about 45 minutes.

Just before serving, preheat the oven to 400F. Arrange the bread slices on a baking sheet and toast, turning once, until golden on both sides. Remove from the oven and set aside. Next, remove the bay leaf from the soup and discard. Ladle the hot soup into ovenproof soup bowls arranged on a baking sheet. Place a piece of toast on top of each bowl and sprinkle evenly with with the cheese. Bake until the cheese melts and is golden and bubbly. Remove from the oven and serve at once.

Daring Bakers - Tender Potato Bread

I have been eagerly awaiting this very day in November when I could finally announce to the world - I am a Daring Baker!!! I am thrilled to have joined this marvelous group of over 400 dare-devil baking bloggers. I have been a long time lurker, admiring their skills from afar and secretly wishing I was in on the fun. Well now I am and boy - this was a wild ride! This month's host, Tanna of My Kitchen in Half Cups challenged us with the task of making Tender Potato Bread. As a novice bread baker, I must admit that I was somewhat intimidated. But this is what being a Daring Baker is all about - trying new techniques and recipes, and taking risks. This challenge forced me to try a recipe that I never would have chosen on my own and for that, I thank you Tanna!

The recipe for the Tender Potato Bread makes enough dough for a large loaf and then some. For this challenge we all had to follow the recipe and instructions for the dough to a T but once that was accomplished it was a free for all in the creativity department. First of all, let me tell you about this dough. They said it would be sticky - well that was the understatement of the year! Just when I thought I'd added enough flour, another part of the dough would be stuck to the counter. I added about 7 cups in total out of the 8 permitted and I think that it was just right for the amount of potato I used. Oh, and since I didn't think to purchase a bench scraper for this challenge, my trusty Dutch cheese slicer (kaas schaaf) stepped up to the task!

The first thought I had when I read this recipe was that cheddar and chives would be a great addition to the dough. I decided to incorporate them in the form of a swirl in the large loaf. I flattened the dough into a large oval and then spread the tiny diced cheddar cubes and chives all over. Then I rolled it all up and placed it seam-side down in a buttered loaf pan. Naturally, I didn't quite plan my time efficiently the day I decided to take on this challenge. I had made dinner plans with friends and didn't have time to finish it between the 40 minute second rise in the pan and the 50 minutes it would take to bake it! Oy Vey! In a panic, I turned to my fellow Daring Bakers and asked their advice, and sure enough they came to the rescue. I was told that I could retard the dough by allowing it to rise in the fridge and then allow it to come to room temperature before baking it the next morning. So into the fridge it went and to my delight, it rose beautifully. I baked it early in the morning and let me just say, there is little else as comforting as the smell of freshly baked bread! The crust was lovely - browned and crisp. This gave way to the a pillow of potato flecked dough, soft yet substantial. The cheddar cheese and chives added a perfect hint of flavour. Not only is this bread a winner when it's fresh from the oven, it's delicious when toasted.

Tender Potato Bread with a Cheddar and Chive Swirl

With the additional dough, I decided to make a focaccia. As this dough required less time (20 mins.) for the second rise and about 25 minutes for baking, I was able to finish it before heading out that night. I flattened the dough into a rectangle and brushed it with extra virgin olive oil. I sprinkled on some sea salt, freshly ground black pepper and rosemary. I then added caramelised shallots, kalamata olives and artichoke hearts. The focaccia was out of this world! Tender dough, puffed and golden with a savoury kick in each bite. My stomach is rumbling just at the thought of it...I guess it's time to break out the flour and yeast again!

Potato Focaccia with Carmelised Shallots, Kalamata Olives and Artichoke Hearts

The Perfect Pear

Almond and Pear Crisp

Though I am ashamed to admit it, I had forgotten about pears. My fruit bowl is infinitely filled to the rim with apples, tangerines and of late - freshly picked pink Florida grapefruits courtesy of a lovely colleague of Alex's. As soon as summer rolls around, peaches, nectarines and plums join the herd. Once autumn approaches, pomegranates pay a much anticipated visit. Yet the pear, the sweet fleshed and perfectly delicate pear, is forgotten. How could I be such a fool? Perhaps it's the fact that they are usually hard as rocks when I do consider purchasing them? Or when in the past that I figured they'd ripen at home, I'd forget about them until they were battered and bruised at the bottom of the bowl and home to a colony of fruit flies? Regardless of the numerous excuses that I've come up with - from this day forth, the pear shall be reinstated into the fruit bowl hall of fame.

Pears truly are a versatile fruit. They can proudly hold their voluptuous shape or succumb to a velvety puree. One of my favourite ways to savour pears is to eat thin slice along with slices of aged parmesan or grana padano. The salty, complex cheese perfectly compliments the perfumed flavour of the pears and makes for a simple and elegant dessert. For this dessert however, I wanted to feature another maginificent pairing - pears and almonds. I decided to make individual Pear and Almond Crisps. The smell alone is enough to make your mouth water - cinnmon scented pears topped with toasted slivered almonds and oats. It just takes one bite to see what makes almonds and pears the perfect pair.

Individual Pear and Almond Crisps:

Filling:

• 2 ripe bartlett pears
• 1 tsp cinnamon
• 1 tbs brown sugar
• 1/2 tsp corn starch
• 1 tbs lemon juice

Topping:

• 1/4 cup flour
• 1/4 cup rolled oats
• 3 tbs brown sugar
• 1/4 cup slivered almonds
• pinch of salt
• 6 tbs unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

Preheat the oven to 350F.

Peel, quarter and core the pears. Cut them into a small dice and toss in a bowl with the lemon juice, cinnamon, corn starch and sugar. Set aside while you make the topping.

In a medium bowl, add the flour, oats, sugar and salt and mix well. Next, add the butter and begin to work it in with your fingers until crumbly. Then add the almonds and mix well. The topping should hold together when squeezed.

Divide the pear mixture evenly between 6 ramekins (or a baking dish). Spread the topping evenly over each ramekin and set them all on a baking sheet. Bake in the over for about 30 minutes, or until the filling is bubbly and the topping is golden brown. Serve with freshly whipped cream or vanilla ice cream.

I'm all shook up - Mm mm oh, oh, yeah, yeah!

Shakshuka - The best Israeli Eggs

Anyone who knows me is well aware of my aversion to breakfast. It's not that I don't like breakfast foods, it's just that the time doesn't work for me. I think that brunch was invented for people like me - people whose appetites wake up a few hours after they do. Ok, ok; it's convenient for those people who like to sleep in on the weekends too. Now I don't know who it is that I inherited this delayed hunger gene from, but it certainly isn't my dad. He wakes up and heads straight to the kitchen. He puts the kettle on for his turkish coffee, toasts a bagel which he then spreads with a layer of labne or cream cheese, tops that with some sliced tomatoes, radish or olives and then settles in to watch the morning news.

Despite my inability (or is it unwillingness?) to eat breakfast, my dad always knew just how to coax my hunger out from its slumber. You see, over the years he figured out the somewhat unorthodox breakfast items that would pique my interest. All of them, I might add, which require laborious slicing and chopping thus giving my appetite plenty of time to awaken. Platefuls of sliced tomatoes covered in a spattering of chopped green onions and parsley then drizzled with olive oil and lemon juice was (and still is) a particular favourite. Add a side plate of cracked green olives and you've got yourself one happy camper! The ultimate breakfast award though must go to Shakshuka, an Israeli egg dish served straight from the pan. The smell of onions and garlic caramelising, the tang of tomatoes and the smokiness of cumin wafting through the air is enough to instill the greatest pang of hunger ever felt. A warm, fluffy pita is the perfect vehicle for soaking up the lucious juices.

Shakshuka:

• 1 small to medium onion, chopped
• 2-3 cloves garlic, chopped
• 1 can diced tomatoes, drained
• 4 eggs
• cumin
• salt and pepper
• olive oil

Heat the olive oil in a saute pan and cook the onion until if begins to caramelise. Then add the garlic and cook for 30 seconds longer. Add the tomatoes and stir well to combine, reduce heat to medium-low. Season well with salt and pepper and add about 1/2 a tablespoon of cumin, or to taste. Mix well and then crack each egg into the tomato mixture, spacing them out evenly. Season each egg with some pepper and salt, then cover with a lid until just cooked. Serve straight from the pan with toasted pita halves alongside.

Apples and Thyme - Memories of time spent in the kitchen with my Safta.

K'Zitzot - My Grandma's Infamous Meatballs

Inge of Vanielje Kitchen and Jeni from The Passionate Palate are hosting a wonderful Blog Event called Apples and Thyme - in celebration of mothers and grandmothers and time spent with with them in the kitchen. Though my mother has inspired me to no end in the kitchen, this post is dedicated to my safta (grandmother), Shula Manela Shikler who recently passed away.

We are kindred spirits, my safta Shula and I. Ever since I can remember; my family would remind me that I took after my grandmother. "The same spirit", they would say. In my opinion, there is no more flattering a compliment. If I have a smidgen as much bravado and zeal for life as my safta did, than I would be the world's luckiest woman. How such a pint-sized package could contain a larger than life personality such as hers still amazes me to this day. Whenever she would walk into a room it was as though she was making her way onto center stage - a spotlight illuminating her smiling face. Though there were countless hardships that she had faced in life; losing her family in the holocaust, making her way to Israel from Poland alone at the tender age of 15, teaching herself to speak Hebrew and English, her spirit never faltered.

My safta was a true artist, a creative soul. Her passion for life poured out into her elaborate paintings, her expressive dance, and of course into her soulful food. I always knew that my creativity and love of dance stemmed from her genes. Yet it wasn't until recently that I realised just how much she's influenced my passion to cook and entertain. A typical Jewish grandma, it seemed at times that her sole purpose in life was to stuff you like a turkey. Once settled in her apartment in Tel Aviv there was no escaping until the entire contents of her fridge had been emptied. We'd feast on copious specialties from freshly made gefilte fish (that had been swimming in her tub earlier), goulash, chopped liver and stuffed peppers to the best chicken soup and plates piled high with K'Zitzot. The latter were my sibling's and mine favourite. Crisp, moist and garlicky meatballs that went down so easily you would just pop another in your mouth without even realising it. The last time she prepared these for us was her last visit to my dad's in California. She was so happy to be there, basking in the lush landscape and sun. Gan 'Eden she called it - The Garden of Eden. We arrived from the airport to the scent of garlic in the air, only to find her frying away batch after batch of K'Zitzot. I clearly remember how adorable she looked in all her late eighties glory, half glasses perched on the tip of her nose, colourful apron tied on and standing barely taller than the stove itself. What a sight to behold! I will cherish those memories forever, among many others that simply do not fit on the page. I can only hope to inherit her wisdom, grace, confidence and sense of humour as I grow old myself. I felt it was only fitting to share this recipe that so embodies my safta - small, zesty, warm, comforting and memorable all in one package!

Safta Shula's K'Zitzot

• 1/2 lb ground turkey
• 1/2 lb ground chicken
• 1 small onion, grated
• 1/2 bunch of flat leaf parsley, finely chopped
• 3-4 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 egg
• splash of olive oil
• splash of water
• bread crumbs
• Knorr chicken bouillon powder or kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Thoroughly mix the turkey and chicken until they are well combined. Add the onion, garlic and parsley and mix well. Next add the egg, splash of oil and water and stir. Season well with the Knorr chicken bouillon or salt and the pepper. The mixture should be moist but able to hold the meat ball shape. If it's too wet, you can add a bit of flour. Shape the mixture into meatballs, using a tablespoon to measure. Once all the balls are formed, heat a small layer of vegetable oil in a large pan. Roll the balls in the bread crumbs and cover all sides, at this point they will take the shape of discs. Fry them in batches until golden brown on both sides and cooked through, about 6-7 minutes. Allow to drain on paper towels.

The way to a man's heart - featuring today's special guest, Patacones.

Mango-Chicken Sausages with Patacones and Guacamole

It must be told that Alex is pretty spoiled when it comes to food. Not that it's entirely his fault you see; I tend to his spoiledness, nurture it and cater to it. Not only does he have freshly cooked meals (most days of the week), he rarely has a repeater. I even make sure he's taken care of when I'm away on business. It's gotten to the point where he'll open a fully stocked fridge full of possibilities and neatly packed leftovers and ask what we have to eat. On the weekends if I don't feed him on time (and believe me - I can go until late afternoon before remembering to eat), he'll start to whimper and whine and grow grumpier by the minute until I force feed him a sandwich! Sure it would benefit him (and me!) to get back in the kitchen and remember what it feels like to cook an egg, make a salad, fry a steak. But truth be told, there's nothing I love more than the total look of happiness on his face when he takes the first bite of a new dish or an old favourite for that matter. The old adage that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach is dead on.

Though his sophisticated taste has a penchant for fine dining, a humble plate of sausage and patacones will have my Colombiano smiling from ear to ear. The first time I had patacones was on our first trip together to Colombia. I wasn't that impressed by the thick, tough, dried out plantain chips and Alex assured me that they were not up to snuff. He explained how these were too thick and probably a bit old. The next time we had them was in Costa Rica, and boy were they a far cry from the disappointing first encounter. These were thin, crisp, salty and fluffy on the inside - just how Alex likes them. I promised I would try to make them once we got back home and I was true to my word. I couldn't believe how easy they were to make, let alone how quickly they come together. If ever I'm in need of a quick fix supper I pop some of my favourite chicken sausages in the oven, whip up a batch of guac and fry some patacones for good measure.

Patacones

Makes about 12 thin patacones:

• 2 green, unripe plantains
• vegetable oil
• salt

Heat about 2 inches of oil in a deep, heavy bottomed pan over medium heat. Cut the ends off of the plantains and run your knife down to make a shallow cut through the skin. Peel off the skin.
Slice the plantain into 1-inch thick slices (or larger if you prefer a thicker patacon).

Once the oil is hot, fry the sliced plantain for about a minute on each side. Remove from the oil and place on a plate lined with paper towel to drain the excess oil.

Next, place a slice of plantain between two sheets of wax paper. Using a heavy object, such as a wooden cutting board, press down to flatten the plantain to a thin disk. Repeat with the remaining slices. Fry the patacones until golden and crispy, about 3 to 5 minutes.

Remove from the oil and drain once again on paper towel lined plates. Sprinkle generously with salt and eat as is or as a side.

Why do you build me up, (build me up) Butternut, baby?

Coconut and Butternut Squash Soup

Sometimes when nothing else seems to do the trick, a bowl of warm, comforting soup is all it takes. When you've got the blues, you're starting to feel ill, the weather blows (literally), or you've simply had a bad day, soup will gladly wrap itself around you to melt away the last of your worries. The best thing about soup is it's versatility - you can make a soup out of just about anything! I love to wrestle in the soup arena, and rarely am I disappointed with the results.

The other day, just when I felt I could not stand another day of grey weather and stress at work, I noticed the lone butternut squash sitting pretty in my fruit bowl. She winked at me and assured me that everything was going to be just fine. Go on, she coaxed, make a soup. And that I did. I opened up the pantry and pondered on a pairing. Coconut milk caught my eye and immediately an asian flair came to mind - sharp and citrusy ginger, cilantro and lime mellowed out by the hearty squash and creamy coconut. Thirty minutes later I was curled up on the couch, blisfully devouring the silky smooth soup. With a soup this bright and cheery, the blues will simply melt away.

Coconut and Butternut Squash Soup

• 1 medium butternut squash, peeled and chopped into even pieces
• 1 small onion, roughly chopped
• 3 green onions, roughly chopped
• 3 garlic cloves, roughly chopped
• 2-inch piece of ginger, peeled and finely chopped
• 1 can unsweetened coconut milk
• juice of half a lime
• 1 tbs fish sauce
• chicken stock
• chopped cilantro

Heat some olive oil in a soup pot over medium heat and saute the onion, green onion and garlic until translucent. Next, add the ginger and butternut squash and continue to cook, stirring occasionally, for about 5 minutes. Add the coconut milk, lime juice and fish sauce and stir to combine. Next, add enough chicken stock to cover the squash by 1 inch. Bring to a boil and then simmer until the squash is fork tender, about 20 minutes. Puree the soup in a blender (a bit at a time) or with an immersion blender until smooth. Add back to the soup pot and cook for another 5 minutes. Adjust the seasoning (add more fish sauce or salt to taste) and stir in the chopped cilantro.