In a lifetime of reading, I’ve found that the best books often act as time machines transports to another place and time, willing to take you there whenever and wherever you open their pages.  Samuel Chamberlain’s “Clementine in the Kitchen,” is a book that has been doing this time-travel magic for its readers for over 50 years.  It’s the kind of book that anytime you read it, you are overcome with a warm feeling and, perhaps, a hint of jealously.

Chamberlain and his wife were writers for Gourmet Magazine; so, they certainly knew a good soufflé when they saw one.  And when a cook from Burgundy named Clementine showed up on the steps of their rented French home, this American family knew that they had found someone special.  Clementine came bearing a set of worn and battered notebooks, containing all sorts of secrets passed down from cook-to-cook.  From these well-thumbed books, she creates a series of dishes that never fails to impress the Chamberlains and their dinner guests.

Chamberlain lovingly describes the sounds and smell of one of Clementine’s classics, L’estouffat Lamande’ the following way: “This symphonic dish used to gurgle gently in our oven from noon until seven, making a soft sound like the bubbling of a spring.  When the casserole came to the table and the crust was broken for the first time, the aroma that escaped perfumed the house for hours.”  Practically every page of this book contains a scene like this and you’ll be hard pressed to get through the whole thing without letting your mind wander, imagining the food on the plate, what it would smell like and how it would taste.  (Such are the hardships of reading good books about food.)

Things get complicated when it becomes apparent that in Europe war is inevitable, the Chamberlains returned to the US, with Clementine in tow.  They settled in Marblehead, Massachusetts, and introduced Clementine to the world of supermarkets, butchers who don’t do weird cuts of meat and pre-made mixes for cakes.  The whole family is continually delighted with Clementine’s reactions to these culinary insults.  However, she isn’t fazed by the American oddities, and continues to cook her way.  None of the Chamberlains, (and, as the book progresses, their hard-to-impress Marblehead neighbors,) have any reason to complain.  The food is just too good.

The second half of “Clementine,” is made up of highlights from her notebooks, a wonderful introduction to French cuisine.  More recent editions of the book have Americanized the measurements and tried to remove the dishes that are best admired from afar, focusing on the French classics.

While it’s tried and true, here’s Clementine’s recipe for crepes:

Traditional French Crepes

Ingredients:

• 2 eggs
• 3/4 cup of milk
• 1/2 cup plus 1 tablespoon of flour
• 1 teaspoon oil
• pinch of salt

Directions:

1. Beat eggs, milk, then add flour, oil and salt.  Beat well until batter is smooth.  (Clementine uses a rotary beater, but allows readers to use an electric beater.)  Let batter rest for 1 hour before using.
2. Heat a 6-inch frying pan, grease it with a few drops of oil and a dot of butter.  Pour in 2 to 2 ½ tablespoons of batter.  Cook over moderate heat until the bottom is lightly browned and the top is dry.  Turn and brown the other side.  Add a little more butter and oil if needed.
3. It is recommended that these crepes are best eaten with ham, Parmesan and béchamel sauce.  (Clementine used to let the children have a few warm crepes for dessert on the nights they weren’t eating dinner with the grown-ups.)

The love that has been professed for this book seemingly knows no bounds.   No less an authority than M.F.K. Fisher called the book, “a minor masterpiece… I wish the book to stay with us forever.”  And it almost has.  “Clementine,” was in print for 42 years, from 1943 to 1985 and then re-published in 2001 by the Modern Library as part of their collection of food books, chosen by Ruth Reichl.

This is the perfect time machine book, one that will whisk you away to rural France in the 1930s. This magic act makes “Clementine” the perfect book to read in the evening as the day is slowing down.  The chapters are short, allowing you to savor the anecdotes and stretch out the reading over days and weeks, though you could probably plow through the 150 pages of stories pretty quickly if you were so inclined.  But that is not the point of this book, or of Clementine’s cooking- things must happen in their own time.  Nothing is worth rushing.  Much like the recipes in this book, “Clementine is the Kitchen” is something to treasure.

All text by Luke Poling. All photos styled and photographed by Somerby Jones. Somerby Jones has been focused on photography since a young age and recently left full time employment  to pursue that passion as a career. She loves the art of making things, especially anything in the kitchen, making food the perfect subject for much of her photography. To see her other work and ever evolving portfolio, please visit somerbyjones.com.

Eat Boutique is an online magazine + market for food enthusiasts to celebrate the best pure, local + comforting handmade foods. We call it: food that hugs you back. Looking for the perfect gift? Eat Boutique sells gift boxes filled with handmade sweet and savory treats. Send a gift box of handmade food today.

It is early Christmas morning…… The snow is softly falling and covering the last remains of the reindeer’s paw prints, as I walk up the pathway to your home.  I can smell fresh roasted coffee brewing, as I reach for the front door.  I give a gentle tap-tap-tap, and you greet me with a warm smile and a Merry Christmas.

In my hands, gently wrapped, and still slightly warm, are fresh baked scones and a jar of tangy bergamot vanilla bean marmalade. The warm, sweet aroma is enticing, and I can tell by the smile that is beginning to take over, that you are excited to see what is in the package. Eager with anticipation, you unwrap the package to find fresh baked Christmas Scones.

Ah, the scone.  Buttery, warm, and flaky. Perfect with a cup of coffee, tea or on their own. Cranberry scones are one of my favorite breakfast treats to make. I take advantage of cranberry season by using fresh cranberries in this recipe. I love how they burst when baked, creating little puddles of warm fruit. I did change my traditional cranberry scone recipe a bit for this special Christmas morning treat. Instead of citrus zest, I used lots of candied ginger. I love the combination of tart cranberries with spicy ginger;  it is so warm and inviting.

If you do not have access to fresh cranberries, please use frozen. Be sure to thaw the fruit, as well as drain it very well. And you will want to cut the amount of cream by a couple tablespoons; otherwise, the dough will be too moist.

If I was on the receiving end, I would be more than thrilled to receive a bundle such as this, and am sure you will put a smile on someone’s face by presenting them with this lovely hostess package!  Happy Holidays!

Cranberry Ginger Scones

Ingredients:

• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1/4 cup sugar
• 2 teaspoons baking powder
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 4 oz Irish butter, cut into small pieces
• 1 cup fresh cranberries
• 1/4 cup candied ginger, minced
• 1/2 cup heavy cream
• 1 egg

Directions:

Preheat oven to 425.  Line a baking sheet with a silpat or parchment paper.

1. In a food processor combine all of the dry ingredients, give a whirl to mix.  With the food processor running, add pieces of butter, a couple at a time, and pulse until pea sized.  Continue adding the butter until you use all of it.  Add the heavy cream.  Pulse until the dough comes together.   Add the ginger and cranberries, and give a quick pulse.
2. Remove the dough from the food processor, and knead on a lightly floured counter top.   Pat into a circle, about 3/4 inch thick.  Cut into triangles, I made 8 but you can make them a bit smaller or larger.  Place onto a baking sheet, with space between each one.
3. Make an egg wash with the egg and a tablespoon of water.  Using a pastry brush, lightly brush the tops of the scones with the egg wash, and sprinkle a little sugar on each top.
4. Bake for 15 – 20 minutes, until the scones are golden brown on the tops.  Remove from the oven.  Let cool for 5 minutes.
5. Serve.  Eat.

All photos styled and photographed by Denise Woodward.

Eat Boutique is an online magazine + market for food enthusiasts to celebrate the best pure, local + comforting handmade foods. We call it: food that hugs you back. Looking for the perfect gift? Eat Boutique sells gift boxes filled with handmade sweet and savory treats. Send a gift box of handmade food today.

I met Karen at a food writer dinner earlier this year and now, lucky me, we’re friends. When she offered to profile The Wicked Oyster, I jumped on the opportunity to share the Cape Cod gem with all of you. This place is wonderful, kind of like Karen’s site, Gourmet Recipes for One. Karen’s easy granola recipe, inspired by The Wicked Oyster, would make a perfect gift for a new Mom, a housewarming or those holidays that, despite tropical hurricanes, are just around the corner. -Maggie

Oftentimes when I have a really great experience somewhere, I hesitate to go back. I want to cherish the experience and the way it has come to rest in my memory, untouched and unedited, and leave it alone. And for me, one of those experiences was at The Wicked Oyster in Wellfleet on Cape Cod.

The first time I went to The Wicked Oyster I was with friends. We were on our way home from a weekend at the beach, tanned and well-rested. We were sad to be leaving the Cape and all the memories we had made that weekend. My friends had recommended going there on our way home as a perfect way to end our weekend and they were right. Our dinner, which started with an addicting dish of whole roasted garlic cloves and good, crusty bread for dipping instantly left us wanting more. A crisp wedge of iceberg draped in a thick, creamy blue cheese dressing, covered with thick pieces of bacon followed, and was so delicious that I could have eaten just that for dinner. Seared scallops served over corn risotto and pan-roasted haddock in a light cream broth with leeks and littlenecks soon followed as well, and were as mouth-watering as each of the courses that came before them. We lingered over coffee, hanging onto every last of morsel of our dinner and our summer weekend together.

On a recent trip back to Wellfleet, I decided to tempt fate and try The Wicked Oyster for breakfast, hoping that it wouldn’t taint my sun-drenched memories from my time before. The old-fashioned screen door led me inside to an interior much different from the intimate, dimly-lit ambience you find here at night. Vases of freshly picked sunflowers were scattered around the interior, adding a warm burst of yellow to their chosen spaces. I grabbed a seat at an antique wooden table and quickly began sipping a cup of freshly brewed coffee. The menu had a wide variety of egg dishes from omelets (with plenty of locally-sourced produce as add-ins) to eggs benedict as well as buttermilk pancakes with fresh blueberries and homemade granola. It was a cool, damp morning and I was longing for something warm and comforting so I decided on brioche french toast, something I love but rarely eat. Four thick-cut slices of homemade brioche arrived on a simple white plate, adorned with only butter and maple syrup, which was all it needed. Every buttery bite melted in my mouth. It was simple and perfect, just as it had been before.

Inspired by the simplicity of their menu, I decided to make a batch of homemade granola when I got home. It’s really quick to make and if you’ve never made it from scratch, you might be surprised at how easy it is. My favorite way to eat it is sprinkled over thick Greek-style yogurt, with or without fresh fruit, and this is my favorite recipe:

Homemade Granola

You can add in anything you like to this basic recipe such as almonds, walnuts or seeds (mix in with the oats and toast them all together) or add in your favorite dried fruit (raisins, cranberries, apricots or cherries) to the finished, cooled granola.

Ingredients:

• 2 cups old-fashioned oats
• 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 
1/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon honey

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 300°F.

2. In a medium bowl combine oats, cinnamon and salt.

3. In a small saucepan, heat butter and honey over medium heat and cook just until butter has melted. Pour over oat mixture and coat well.

4. Pour granola out onto a baking sheet (leaving it slightly chunky on the baking sheet allows for bigger chunks of granola to form). Bake for 20-25 minutes, until mixture is golden brown. Cool to room temperature and store in an airtight container for up to 1 week.

Makes approximately 2 cups.

What dining experiences have special memories for you?

All photos by Karen Covey.

Eat Boutique is an online magazine + market for food enthusiasts to celebrate the best pure, local + comforting handmade foods. We call it: food that hugs you back. Looking for the perfect gift? Eat Boutique sells gift boxes filled with handmade sweet and savory treats. Send food that hugs you back today.

When a food myth favors my preferred lifestyle, I typically accept it with gusto. Case in point: red wine and coffee are good for your heart. Great! Done! This means I can indulge in a nightly glass of red wine and enjoy my morning caffeine jolt without worry. Same goes for that dark chocolate claim: bring it on.

I recently heard a new one: eating local honey helps calm the effects of seasonal allergies. Ok, I’ll bite. After all, my allergies have been running amok, leaving me with itchy eyes and big sneezing sessions. The idea is that daily exposure to a small amount of an allergen (in this case: pollen) can help to desensitize the body so we better handle the effects of pollen.

I don’t think there is necessarily a lot of research out there to back up this claim. But then again, do you really need an excuse to eat this Local Honey Cake from 3 Little Figs? I sure didn’t.

When Maggie asked me to taste this cake, which is included in the Spring Gift Box, I gladly accepted the task. (I always accept this task…) 3 Little Figs is a bakery that focuses on lightened up, natural versions of favorite baked goods from childhood.

The honey cake was delicious with a moist crumb and soft, spicy-sweet flavor. I decided I would cut it into thick slices and grill it up on my butter-kissed grill pan. With some rhubarb from my co-worker’s garden and a bag of frozen raspberries, we were in business!

I tossed the rhubarb with some sugar and butter and roasted it up until it was toasty and fragrant. Then I let the rhubarb simmer away with the raspberries and a vanilla bean. I topped the grilled honey cake with the compote and a scoop of vanilla ice cream. While I can’t say that the Local Honey Cake cured my allergies, I can tell you that it was a huge component in a truly delightful springtime dessert.

Raspberry Rhubarb Compote

Ingredients:

• 1 pound rhubarb stalks, leaves removed
• 2 cups raspberries, fresh or frozen (it’s too early for fresh raspberries here, I used frozen)
• ½ cup sugar
• 1 vanilla bean (or 1 tsp vanilla extract)
• 1 tablespoon butter, melted

Turn the oven on to 450 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Wash and dry rhubarb stalks. Cut to your preferred size (I wanted smaller pieces of rhubarb because I prefer when it melts into the compote, but you can certainly leave the pieces 1-2 inches long here if you want them to stay intact).

In a bowl, toss rhubarb pieces with sugar and melted butter. Spread the sugary rhubarb on the parchment lined baking sheet and place in the oven for about 20 minutes (check the rhubarb after about 15 minutes). Once the rhubarb is starting to brown ever-so-slightly, remove the baking sheet from the oven.

Add the roasted rhubarb and the raspberries to a saucepan and warm over low heat until heated through and combined into a sauce. Taste the compote and if you prefer a sweeter flavor, add more sugar. Spoon over ice cream and/or a slice of cake or another lovely baked treat.

If you have extra, as I did, the compote is really tasty mixed into greek yogurt and topped with granola for a tangy breakfast treat.

Photo credits: (1) Maggie Battista, (2) Robin, (3) and (4) Maggie, (5) Shelby Larsson, (6) Maggie, and (7) Shelby.

Looking for the perfect gift? Eat Boutique sells a handmade gift box filled with handmade sweet and savory treats. Send food that hugs you back today.

As a kid, I had a long list of foods that made me take notice and instantly salivate, luring me away from whatever game I had imagined lately. I often played “shopping” with whoever would have me, turning my parent’s house into a store where everything had a price tag and I had a huge wad of fake Monopoly money with which to buy it all up. I’d push around a tiny plastic cart, pile things into it and, after a very long wait in line, my imaginary friend Michael would finally ring me up. My parents, responsibly, would force me to put it all back together. It must have been tedious for them and me. In fact, I’m exhausted just thinking about it. And hungry!

There were just a few foods that would make it worthwhile to stop my cart in its tracks. In fact, I can count them all on six fingers: fried plantains with parmesan cheese, whole milk mozzarella, homemade milk candy made by mi abuelita, snail-shaped anise cookies topped with icing and sprinkles made by my grandma, fried bologna sandwiches and, my favorite, fried dough.

Fried dough is not fancy, often associated with passing festivals or carnivals, and thus not an acquired taste. Everyone came running when the raw pizza dough hit the bubbling hot oil. My family couldn’t be bothered making the dough from scratch, especially when we lived around the corner from one of the best pizzerias in northern New Jersey – and I’m willing to fight you on that one. It was called Danny’s Pizzeria and I miss that slice.

I dream of that dough, just like I dream about the annual Feast of San Gennaro in Manhattan’s Little Italy. My parents used to take me to the feast for the fried dough and I still make regular pilgrimages. In fact, I moved to Mott Street shortly after college, probably due to my association with the feast and the good memories. Little Italy has shrunk in size over the years, but the fried dough still delivers – crispy, greasy, airy and sweet.

When I was scheming up my favorite sort of recipe for fried dough, I knew I wanted it to be a bit more substantial, not something that evaporated once it hit my belly, but something that could take me through to lunch or even an early dinner. My favorite version is solid and flat, a canvas for whatever topping tempts me. I prefer piling on some freshly made ricotta cheese and maple syrup or honey. But powdered sugar works just as well. It’s not exactly like the fried dough from my childhood – I don’t believe my parents used Italian sparkling water in the batter – but it’s enough of a throwback to make me smile.

Fried Dough at Home
Adapted from the King Arthur Flour recipe

Ingredients:

• 2 cups all purpose flour
• 2 teaspoons baking soda
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
• 2 tablespoons butter, cut into small cubes
• 1 cup sparkling water (Pellegrino or Perrier works well)
• Vegetable oil

Whisk dry ingredients together in a large bow.

With hands, work butter into dry ingredients until no large chunks are noticeable. It will look like small breadcrumbs.

Warm the sparkling water in pot over medium heat for 1 minute (or do it for 20-30 seconds in a microwave). Add the warmed sparkling water to the flour mixture and work into a loose dough. Cover with a tea towel and let sit for 15 minutes.

Cut the dough into 8 even pieces. Roll each piece out until very thin.

In a frying pan with tallish sides, add enough oil to go about 1/4 inch up side of pan. Turn on medium heat. When drop of water sizzles in oil, add 1 piece of dough. Cook 1-2 minutes until golden colored. Turn over and cook another minute. Place on paper towel and cook remaining dough one by one.

Serve immediately or keep warm in 150 degree oven. Top with your favorite topping like powdered sugar, maple syrup, jam, and/or ricotta cheese.

Jill is a photographer in Toronto, Canada and photographed this fried dough for Eat Boutique. She also blogs about her homemade urban life, including her beautiful chickens, at Freestyle Farm.

Looking for the perfect gift? Eat Boutique sells a handmade gift box filled with handmade sweet and savory treats. Send food that hugs you back today.

I’ve always felt that biscotti are such a sophisticated thing to eat.

Like, a little too sophisticated for me.

Like, I’m really not sure that I’m cool enough to hang with this dessert.

Biscotti, you’re so intimidating.

But life is all about facing our fears and trying to be as cool as you can, so this morning I decided to step up and prepare some lovely biscotti.

Man, oh man, is this biscotti simple to prepare.

The recipe comes together in a snap, which gave me some extra time to focus on being cool.

And what better way to be cool than to dip stuff in chocolate?

Seriously, go dip some stuff in some chocolate and you’ll know what I’m talking about.

Too cool for school.

I actually think that the most challenging aspect of preparing this biscotti recipe is the waiting time – baking, cooling, dipping, and cooling again – before you can stick one in your mouth.

And between the pecans, the zesty lemon and then the chocolate, it just gets harder and harder. By the time my biscotti were ready, I was drooling.

Too bad drool is not very cool.

All the more reason to keep eating and baking some cool chocolate-dipped biscotti.

Chocolate-Dipped Pecan Biscotti

Ingredients:

• 1 ¼ c. all-purpose flour
• ½ c. white sugar, granulated
• 1 tsp. baking soda
• ¼ tsp. salt
• 3 large eggs
• ¾ c. pecans, roughly chopped
• 2 tbsp. lemon zest
• 6 oz. semisweet chocolate

Method:

Preheat oven to 350°.

In a large bowl, sift together flour, baking soda, sugar and salt. Mix in eggs and stir until just incorporated. This dough is stiff and thick so beating by hand is recommended.

Fold in pecans and zest, again working with your hands.

Spread dough onto a parchment-lined baking sheet, using a rubber scraper to shape it into a rectangle roughly 6” x 8”. Bake for 25 minutes and remove to cool.

Once the dough has cooled slightly, slice it with a serrated knife. You may slice according to your desired thickness – I sliced off 9 biscotti that were each about 1” thick.

Place sliced biscotto, cut-side down, back onto the parchment-lined baking sheet and bake for 20 minutes more, flipping the biscotti after 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, melt chocolate in a double boiler over high heat.

Once the biscotti have baked through, allow them to cool for just a few minutes, and then dip them into the chocolate, placing finished biscotto on a wire rack to cool completely and to allow the chocolate to harden.

A note on chocolate dipping:  you can be completely creative with how and where you want to dip your biscotti. I was pretty free form with my dipping and did some on just one end and others on both ends. You may also allow the chocolate to dribble and drip down the biscotti as it hardens – I’ve never known anyone to turn down an ugly chocolate-dipped biscotto.

YIELD:  9 biscotti

I believe we’ve gone a little overboard in the Meyer lemon category as of late. Perhaps it hasn’t phased you, but it certainly has me. Still, I can’t get enough of these darling little suckers, sweet and tart at the same time, kind of like the best people I know. And I just keep ordering them by the pound(s) from the Lemon Ladies, a small producer in California.

As I mentioned previously, I’m a lazy jam maker. I throw fruit into a pot with plenty of sugar and lemon and hope for the best, and usually get plenty of passable results, sometimes worth of topping a pretty panna cotta dessert, sometimes only worthy of a smear on a piece of toast. Either way, I prefer to take my chances and not worry too much about the intricacies of the esteemed jam making process.

There are, however, a few special recipes that cause me pause, making me rethink my messy ways. And when I got my paws on Rachel Saunders’ The Blue Chair Jam Cookbook finally, I totally fell into a bit of awe. First, she’s absolutely beautiful, like a little pixie in the kitchen whipping up a bit of magic.

And her jam recipes aren’t half bad either. They really sound delightful, packed with familiar and foreign fruit, herbs, flowers, spices and, my favorite, the occasional dose of liquor. While Rachel isn’t a big fan of plain Meyer lemon marmalade (it seems “somewhat one-dimensional” to her), I sparked it up with what I know best and splashed in some booze. The Elderflower liquor kicks the pants off any one-dimensionality and, from what I’ve heard, put a smile on my friend’s faces too.

I’ve combined a few of Rachel’s recipes into what I felt was best for this jam. Sure, it was a lot of work and hasn’t made me give up my lazy ways, but the results were delicious and something of which I’m far more proud. I also did a bunch of other cool things with my Meyer lemons, which you can see previewed in some of the above photos, and promise to tell you all about that soon.

Meyer Lemon Marmalade with Elderflower Liquor

Adapted from Rachel Saunders’ The Blue Chair Jam Cookbook

Ingredients

• 3 pounds 10 ounces seeded Meyer lemons, halved crosswise, each half cut lengthwise into quarters and sliced thinly crosswise
• 2.5 pounds white cane sugar
• 3 ounces strained freshly squeezed lemon juice (not Meyer lemon, but standard lemons)
• 3 ounces elderflower liquor

Day 1 Instructions

Place the lemon slices in a wide stainless-steel kettle and cover with 1 inch cold water. Cover tightly with plastic wrap and let rest overnight at room temperature. (Don’t skip this step as it helps to develop the fruit’s natural pectin.)

Day 2 Instructions

Place a saucer with five metal teaspoons in a flat place in your freezer for testing the jam later. Remove the plastic wrap from the lemons and bring them to a boil over high heat, then decrease the heat to medium and cook at a lively simmer, uncovered, for 20 to 30 minutes, or until the fruit is tender.

When the lemon slices have finished cooking, place them with their liquid into a larger mixing bowl with the sugar and fresh lemon juice. Stir well to combine, taste, and slowly add a little more lemon juice if necessary. You should be able to taste the lemon juice, but it should not be overpowering. Keep adding lemon juice only until you are just able to detect its tartness. Transfer the mixture to an 11- or 12-quarter copper preserving plan or a wide nonreactive pan (which is what I chose).

Bring the mixture to a boil over high heat. Cook at a rapid boil until the setting point is reached; this will take a minimum of 35 minutes, but may take longer depending on your individual stove and pan. Initially, the mixture will bubble gently for several minutes; then, as more moisture cooks out of it and its sugar concentration increases, it will begin foaming. Do not stir it at all during the initial bubbling; then, once it starts to foam, stir it gently every few minutes with a heatproof rubber spatula. As it gets close to being done, stir it slowly every minute or two to prevent burning, decreasing the heat a tiny bit if necessary. The marmalade is ready for testing when its color darkens slightly and its bubbles become very small.

To test the marmalade for doneness, remove it from the heat and carefully transfer a small representative half-spoonful to one of your frozen spoons. It should look shiny, with tiny bubbles throughout. Replace the spoon in the freezer for 3 to 4 minutes, then remove and carefully feel the underside of the spoon. It should be neither warm nor cold; if still warm, return it to the freezer for a moment. Tilt the spoon vertically to see whether the marmalade runs; if it does not run, and if its top layer has thickened to a jelly consistency, it is done. If it runs, cook it for another few minutes, stirring, and test again as needed. (It took me 3 spoons to get it just right.)

When the marmalade is ready, turn off the heat but do not stir. Using a stainless-steel spoon, skim off any surface foam. Stir in 1-2 ounces of the elderflower liquor. Taste carefully and add a little more liquor if necessary; the flavor should be present but subtle. (I added in a full 3 ounces of liquor.) Pour the jam into sterilized jars and process according to your manufacturer’s instructions or as Rachel Saunder’s suggests, using an oven method. More on the oven method here (under “Great Tip”).

I don’t know about you, but we are REALLY excited about the royal wedding here at Eat Boutique.  Lovers of all things British, we get especially excited about the notion of the afternoon tea and all of the lovely things that go along with it, like clotted cream, light and fluffy scones, bright jams – or best of all – marmalade.

When Maggie asked me to taste a few items for the spring gift box, I was more than a little delighted to taste a few different jams from small-batch producer Lemon Bird Handmade Jams. Based in southern California, jam artisan Amy Deaver specializes in making unique flavors of fruit-based spreads like plum with vanilla, Merlot grape jelly, and Meyer lemon with dark chocolate.  Using seasonal ingredients from local farms, the result is something much more interesting than your average jelly.

As the recipient of a pretty jar of the Lemon Bird Blood Orange Marmalade, I knew I needed something very special to serve as the canvas for my precious gift. This colorful marmalade does amazing things with my everyday toast and English muffins, but I wanted to find the perfect scone recipe to go along with it. While I’ve tried several types of scone recipes over the years and have found my go-to recipes, I wanted to try something new. I turned towards a buttermilk scone from Tartine Bakery.

The result was truly fantastic. The Tartine recipe produces flaky, flavorful scones that were not overly sweet. During my scone research, I repeatedly saw one key tip: the trick is to not over-mix or over-knead the dough. A few weeks ago, I saw an Irish cooking segment on the Today Show where the baker stirred the dough together using only one hand. When asked why, she said “once you use two hands, you tend to over-knead.” I tried this trick myself with the Tartine recipe, and was treated to fabulously light scones. The big cubes of butter also helped out too.

Come April 29, I had originally planned on playing hooky from work, gathering together some of my favorite anglophiles, and putting on an absolutely brilliant tea.  However, as we get closer to the big day, it has become clear that for those of us in the States, this will NOT be an afternoon tea, but a VERY early morning tea (news coverage will start around 4am, EST- eek!). With that news, I say that there’s nothing wrong with skipping the posh clothing and delicate cucumber tea sandwiches. But do yourself a favor and bake up a batch of these buttermilk scones. They come together quickly, make your house smell incredible, and topped with some Lemon Bird Blood Orange Marmalade, you just might feel like royalty yourself.

Yes, you, the one in your pajamas, wearing a smart fascinator cocked just so in your sleep-tousled hair.

Cranberry and Lemon Buttermilk Scones

Adapted from Tartine Bakery

This recipe is a great base for all sorts of flavors. The original recipe called for Zante currants, but I decided to go with dried cranberries.  If you’d like to use fresh berries, freeze them first, which will help keep them whole and intact when you gently mix them into the dough (and won’t turn your scones all blue or red with berry juice). Ginger, both fresh and crystallized, is another favorite scone flavor.

While I have included the full recipe below, I halved the recipe, producing six scones rather than a dozen, which worked well for me. You can also make the full recipe and freeze the scones before baking.

Ingredients

• ¾ cup dried cranberries
• 4 ¾ cup all purpose flour
• 1 tbsp baking powder
• ¾ tsp baking soda
• ½ cup granulated sugar
• 1 ¼ tsp salt
• 1 cup plus 1 tbsp very cold unsalted butter
• 1 ½ cups buttermilk
• 1 tsp grated lemon zest

Topping

• ~3 tbsp unsalted butter, unsalted
• Large crystal sugar (turbinado) or granulated sugar for sprinkling

Instructions

Preheat the oven to 400* F. Butter a baking sheet, or place a piece of parchment paper on the sheet.

Place the dried cranberries in a bowl with enough warm water to cover them completely. Put the bowl aside for about 10 minutes until the dried cranberries are plumped. Drain well.

Meanwhile, sift the flour, baking powder and baking soda into a large mixing bowl if making by hand (which I recommend as this helps with the goal of not over-kneading the dough), or into the large bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Add the sugar and salt and mix it together using a wooden spoon.

Cut the butter into ½ inch cubes and scatter them over the dry ingredients. If you are mixing by hand, use a pastry blender or two table knives to cut the butter into the dry ingredients ( I gave up and began to simple break up the butter into smaller bits by using my hands). If you are using the mixer, pulse on and off so that you don’t break down the butter too much. You want to end up with a coarse mixture with pea-sized lumps of butter, which should remain visible.

Add the buttermilk, the lemon zest and the cranberries all at once, and mix all ingredients together gently with a wooden spoon (I threw my spoon aside and used the “stir with one hand” method), or on a very low speed if using the mixer.

Continue to mix until you have a shaggy dough that just holds together. If the mixture seems a bit dry, add a small amount of buttermilk. You should still be able to see little bits of butter, which will help you create a nice, flaky scone once they are baked.

Dust your work surface with flour, and turn the dough out onto it. Using your hands, gently pat the dough into a rectangle about 18 inches long, 5 inches wide, and 1 ½ inches thick. Using a chef’s knife, cut the dough into 12 triangles. Transfer the triangles to the prepared baking sheet.

Because I halved this recipe, I went ahead with a rounded dough ball, and cut my scones into wedge slices that way. If you are making the full recipe, go ahead with the large rectangle, or make two rounded mounds for easiest slicing.

Bake the scones until the tops are lightly browned, 25-30 minutes. Remove from the oven and serve immediately. Scones taste the best right out of the oven. If you have some leftover, you might want to toast them a bit to refresh.

While it seemed unusual to me at the time, I grew up in a fairly typical immigrant home where two families lived in one house, only separated by a staircase. Downstairs in our part of the house, my Honduran mom tried very hard to be a typical American housewife, brushing aside some of her Latin flairs to fit in more with my Italian-American dad. Downstairs, we ate boring American food at breakfast – boring toast, boring eggs and boring piles of crispy bacon. Upstairs, was another story and another country completely.

In their part of the house, my mother’s brother’s family lived enough Latin for all of us. (Thank goodness!) My uncle is also Honduran and his wife, my aunt, is Colombian. They rarely ate boring American food. And we regularly skipped upstairs to delight in their weekend cuisine.

Most of the children in the family, especially my sister, protected their stash of bacon on weekend mornings, because crispy bacon could mysteriously vanish from a child’s plate in our house. I liked bacon and love it today, but I totally favored fried plantains way more than pig. Pig is wonderful – cured, delicious and salty – but in my mind at the time, pig was very American. I much preferred to fight over the very exotic fried plantain coins.

Prized like gold, and with the same warm hue to match when fried just right (though I prefer them a touch over done), plantains were typically served when we were all a bit more relaxed. The process of cutting, frying, and appropriately divvying them up among all the kids was a habit best performed after several cups of strong coffee, lots of Spanish banter, and maybe, if we had the time to hit the Italian market, a big ball of whole milk mozzarella cheese. (I still feel pretty strongly that the Italian side of my family encouraged the use of mozzarella because it just doesn’t exist in Honduras, but my Latin family cooked with it like it had been part of our life for generations.)

When the mozzarella hit the table, we knew it was one of THOSE weekend days, the kind that would involve everything: black beans, orange rice, eggs over easy, fried plantains and a few chunks of our favorite Italian cheese. If we didn’t have the time to get the mozzarella, then a sprinkle of sharp Parmesan would do the trick well. Either way, plantains in the morning always meant we’d have far more relaxed parents and an amazing weekend.

Some things have changed and others, not so much.

For example, plantains are actually naughty carbohydrates, food not seen as particularly helpful to a healthy diet, when they really have far less sugar than bananas. Plantains are also now available all toasted up in easy to rip open bags, when cooking isn’t in the cards. And my sister’s a vegetarian now, so she can’t be the one stealing the bacon from my plate these days. (I’m talking to YOU, husband.)

Still, when my birthday weekend rolled around and I wanted to fuel my weekend, I made plantains. My mom was visiting this time around. We all woke up early, made some strong coffee and I got to frying the plantains. Sure, there was some teasing for my tendency to STILL hoard the plantains, but it was an amazing weekend.

Here’s my easy recipe for your next great weekend. Have you ever made plantains? Have you ever tasted them? I’d love to hear how you enjoy this tropical treat. Please leave your thoughts in the comments. Thank you!

Fried Plantains

Ingredients

• 1 or 2 ripe plantains (yellow with a few black spots, but not green)
• 1 tablespoon coconut oil
• Parmesan cheese, for serving

1. Peel your plantain carefully. I typically take a small knife and slice from one end to the other, not letting the knife’s tip dip past the skin and pierce the plantain. If I’m clumsy and haven’t yet had my coffee, it might slip in just a touch, but don’t cut the plantain too deeply. After that first cut from end to end, carefully peel off the skin. Slice the plantain into 1/4 inch thick coins, at an angle.

2. Bring a frying pan up to medium-high heat and add the coconut oil. You’re more than welcome to use any oil you prefer, but that coconut oil just meshes beautifully with this tropical treat.

3. Gently place the plantain coins into the well-heated oil. The oil should sizzle when the plantain hits it. Place about half of the coins (half of 1 plantain) into the pan and cook them 3-4 minutes per side, flipping with the tines of a fork.

4. Remove the plantains from the pan once they’re cooked to your desired color. Some prefer a lighter touch, where the color remains vibrant and yellow. I prefer to cook them a bit longer, and bring on a lot of dark color, because that dark color forms a nice crispy texture around the edges. Place cooked plantain coins onto a plate covered with paper towels.

5. Once all the plantain coins are fried and ample oil has been pulled from them, place on a serving platter and sprinkle with Parmesan cheese (or salt, if you’re not using cheese). If you’re feeling super adventures, cut up some 1″ cubes of mozzarella cheese and put them on top of the plantains. Serve and enjoy.