banana nut muffins

Ah, yes. Banana nut, a total classic combination. A fail safe. One that will never lead you astray. (Unless you are, like cute Colin, a walnut-hater. I say: All haters, try them once in a cookie or a scone and see if you change your mind. It's a nice crunchy balance to otherwise sweetness. No one's asking you to eat them straight, become the Walnut King. Omega-3's, people, omega-3's! Ah, but he's so cute.)

Having a hankering for this particular flavor, I decided to stalk the cookbooks (and, okay, the internet) for the perfect recipe. I've done this before, of course, and came through with what is now a favorite healthy version of banana bread, to which we've often added mix-ins like dried fruit, nuts or, ahem, chocolate. All equally delicious, if I do say so myself.

So, couldn't I just transform this successful recipe into muffin-form, you ask? Well, maybe, possibly. But then that wouldn't be a challenge, would it? And THEN, I might not have combined ideas from several different recipes and landed on the let's-sub-coconut-oil train (a ride I frequent more than ever, these days), which always leds a nice, subtle crispiness to all the baked goods it touches: a nice crunch to the edge of cookies, a zen crustiness to the top of a cake. You get the idea. Coconut oil is for winners.

For this particular winning recipe, you will need:

3-4 ripe bananas (I realize this vague, but use your best judgement. Are the HUGE? Teeny-tiny? When you mash them all up, do they add up to about a cup and a half? Perfect.)
1/3 cup melted, but not hot, coconut oil
3/4 cup of sugar
1 egg, beaten
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon baking soda
Pinch of kosher salt
1 1/2 cups of whole wheat flour
1 cup walnuts, chopped

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees. In a large mixing bowl, combine your mashed bananas and coconut oil. They might take a minute to blend, but fold vigorously and you'll get there. Mix in your sugar, egg and vanilla. (I also came across several recipes that incorporated a tablespoon of espresso around this step. A grand idea, but as I was espresso-less, I moved on.)

Add your cinnamon, baking soda and salt. Mix thoroughly and then add your flour, folding quickly until just incorporated. Stir in your walnuts.

Add the mixture to a baking tin, which you can either line with paper cups or grease (very lightly) with a little more coconut oil, for a little more crunch in the muffin exterior. I went paper this time because, let's face it, clean-up seemed like a drag. Who wants to do dishes when there's eating to be done?

Bake for about 22-25 minutes or until deep brown on top. These came out with great color, actually. Dark but not burnt, the exact color I think of when a recipe calls for a "golden brown" finish. Perfect with a little jam or with nothing at all, these were great for an on-the-go breakfast or a hey-I'm-hungry snack. (I recommend that particular kind of snack at least twice a day.)

marhaba, again.

Now: to write about Marhaba, a little tucked-away Middle Eastern restaurant in Lambertville, NJ is a major MAJOR thrill, a thrill big enough to denote using the same word twice (twice) in one sentence. Dare you say to that five times fast.

Really, though, despite my love for their display of ambient lighting via several hanging lanterns (all true), it makes for a generally difficult picture-taking scenario most evenings, unless I were comfortable using my very bright, very disturbing flash while other patrons try to enjoy their falafel, and frankly, I cannot.

So though we frequent Marhaba enough to be considered regulars (seriously, the wait staff knows us), I have only been able to record a handful of perfectly-seasoned moments there, due to my courteous restraint.

HOWEVER: when you are smart enough to visit Marhaba during their lunch hours OR during the time of year when the sun doesn't set somewhere around 4PM, bless you, you will find daylight on your side and photographs of your brilliant meal are then possible.

Though there are many vegetarian options on Marhaba's menu, and I've tried (and loved) just about all of them, I decided to stray to a newly added dish, one that became part of the permanent menu at Marhaba after a successful run at restaurant week: koshari.

A basic Egyptian street food that can vary slightly by region, koshari is a dish of rice, lentils, chickpeas and macaroni, all topped with tomato sauce, fried onion and garlic. And mine in particular came with a hard-boiled egg, for a balance of creamy with the acidity of the tomatoes and garlicky punch. I mean, you tell me what's not to love about that. 

Colin opted for a steady favorite in the vegetarian ouzi (hold the mushrooms, please), a phyllo "pocket" filled with rice, spiced vegetables and golden raisins.

And of course, you also can't go to Marhaba without getting their falafel: the taste is definitely signature and a little more heat-heavy than most other falafel I've tried. And unlike other varieties, this homemade stuff is really dense, the ingredients all visible, aka sesame seeds everywhere: yum. Pair that with their amazing za'atar bread, and you have the best meal, possibly, on earth.

zesty orange loaf

I've discovered (again, while in Mexico) another blog that I've become head-over-heels in-love/stalker-obsessed with: Lottie & Doof. With a name full of whimsy, food photos that nearly jump off the page and onto my plate (which I'm holding up to my laptop ... no, just me?), L&D has got everything I'm looking for, including this amazing recipe for orange loaf.

Since I've already tried my hand at a grapefruit pound cake once or twice this season (okay, four times),  I thought I'd mix it up and expand my horizons to other members of the citrus family.

Now, I love all citrus fruits. I love tangerines and clementines and tangelos. I don't discriminate. And I could easily dig into a five-pound bag of oranges and only halfway through realize what I've done. Seriously: it's a love that deep.

So when it comes to incorporating any member of the citrus family into a baked dessert - well, I am sold in thirty seconds or less. There may be a moment of hesitation as I think something like, "Well, I guess I could just eat these pomelos as they are," but. It always comes and goes.

For this recipe, you'll need:

2 1/4 cups all purpose flour
2 1/4 teaspoons baking powder
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup sour cream
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/4 cup freshly squeezed orange juice
1 cup granulated sugar
3 tablespoons orange zest (from about 3 medium-sized oranges)
6 ounces unsalted butter, softened
3 large eggs

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees. Butter a 9x5-inch loaf pan. (Yes! Finally, a pan size that I actually own!) Line the bottom and 2 long sides with parchment paper.

Whisk together your flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt in a medium bowl. Combine sour cream, orange juice and vanilla in a small bowl - nope, it won't curdle, in case you were wondering the same thing I was. It actually was pretty difficult to resist dipping a spoon into this pretty, peachy-colored mixture. But set aside, if you can.

In the bowl of an electric mixture (if you have one) and using the paddle attachment (le sighhhh..), combine your sugar and orange zest on a low speed. This will start to smell amazing almost INSTANTLY. Drop your butter in about 2 tablespoons at a time until thoroughly combined. Then increase your speed slightly, until the mixture appears light and airy. Add your eggs one at a time, beating slowly to incorporate.

Once you've added all your eggs, alternate between your flour and sour cream mixtures, mixing thoroughly with each addition. (L&D advises that you start and end with your flour mixture. Don't question it.)

Scrape your batter into your prepared pan and bake for about 45-60 minutes - for me, the golden number (which may or may not be a baking pun) was around 52 minutes. All ovens vary, of course.

This cake came out beautifully and strikingly orange, in fact. The color, that is. The taste was more delicate, but definitely there. (It likely would have increased if I had added the glaze recipe, but I'm not really a glaze kind of girl. Unless we're talking about donuts. I'm always interested in talking about donuts).

Still, this light cake could pass for breakfast and an after-dinner option, which is my favorite kind of dessert: not too sweet, not too heavy. Almost as perfect as an orange itself - almost.

coconut yellow split pea soup

For this soup recipe, I adapted 101 Cookbooks' recipe for coconut red lentil soup.

Fresh out of red lentils (or, totally forgot to buy them), this sweet soup transformed into coconut yellow-split-pea-only soup. If you have red lentils, you can swap out one cup of the split peas. Either way works and you will need:

2 cups yellow split peas
7 cups water
2 medium carrots, diced
1 tablespoons fresh minced ginger
1 tablespoons curry powder 
1 tablespoon butter
1/2 small white onion, chopped
1/3 cup golden raisins
1/3 cup tomato paste
1 cup coconut milk
Sea salt & cracked pepper to taste
Cooked brown rice for serving (optional)

Start by rinsing you split peas (and/or lentils) well. Place them in a large soup pot with the water and bring to a steady boil. Reduce to a simmer and add your carrots and half your ginger. Cover and simmer - it will take about 30 minutes for the peas to soften.

This next step is fun, fragrant and super weird. I can now say that we've learned how to sufficiently toast curry powder and that sautéing raisins and onions is how to recreate that sweet-spicy aroma of most hole-in-the-wall Indian restaurants. YOU'RE WELCOME.

SO: the recipe instructs, in a small pan over medium heat, to toast your curry powder until fragrant, which, as we discovered, happens just about instantly. Set aside. In the same size pan, add your butter and onions. Stir for one minute than add in your remaining ginger and raisins. Sauté for 1-2 minutes, then add your tomato paste. Heat for another minute, then add your toasted curry powder. Mix thoroughly, then add this mixture to your soup pot.

Now's the time add your coconut milk. Stir to incorporate, then simmer uncovered for about 20 minutes. This soup will thicken the longer it simmers, so letting it go longer is really a matter of personal preference. We let ours simmer for about an hour and it achieved an almost stew-like texture.

Serve with a scoop of brown rice (or grain of your choice). Tasty!

cherry chocolate-chip walnut cookies

Okay. I dare you to make these and not eat at least six the minute they pop out of the oven. It's basically decadent trail mix baked into a cookie. I win because, as far as I know, I made this one up.

Okay, I just did a quick Google search - turns out I didn't, but I can still live with that. These were that good.

I came home from work the other day and really, really, really needed a cookie. You know the kind of day I'm talking about. Long, stressful, noisy. I had an incident on the train with an older gentleman that would be cruel to discuss on a food blog. No more details are necessary.

Cookies help on our best days, I think, so there's really no harm in accepting their cure on one of our worst. This is the perfect recipe to keep on hand for just those moments. You will need:

2 1/4 cups all purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
2 sticks of butter, softened (ZING)
3/4 cup granulated sugar
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 large eggs
2 cups of your favorite chocolate chips (I like semi-sweet best for cookies)
1 cup chopped walnuts
1 cup dried cherries, chopped

Preheat your oven to 375 degrees. Combine your dry ingredients, using a whisk, in a medium bowl and set aside. In a separate bowl, beat together your butter, sugars (AH!) and vanilla extract until creamy. If you've had a particularly bad day, you may be tempted to stop the whole process here and dig into this bowl with a ladle. But keep going, persevere past this point; I promise, it's worth it.

Add your eggs, beating well with each addition. Slowly beat in your flour mixture. Add your chocolate chips, folding in with a rubber spatula. Repeat this step with your walnuts and cherries.

Drop rounded tablespoons (or bigger, again, depending on your day) on an ungreased cookie sheet and bake for 9-11 minutes. I made my cookies relatively small - you know, so I could eat more and feel less bad about it - and found that 10 minutes made for the perfectly chewy-with-crisp-edges cookie.

What bad day? That's exactly what you'll think to yourself after you've had a few of these - after a sensible dinner, of course. A bit of crunch from the walnuts, melty chocolate and a tart sweetness from the cherries, this cookie may be all you need to face the world again.