A Sneak Peek at The Brooklyn Kitchen Labs

In the shadow of the BQE, steps from a collision shop and an iron works, may not be the first place you’d expect to find a culinary megacenter, but Harry Rosenblum, Taylor Erkkinen, and Tom Mylan of The Brooklyn Kitchen Labs are betting that if they build it, the food-obsessed will come. Recently I was lucky enough to get a sneak peek at the space, and the chance to chat with Rosenblum and Mylan (Erkkinen was minding the store—the original store).

Opening this Monday, November 16, the center will be a cooking school-cum-butcher shop-cum-bulk foods store-cum-cookbook store-cum-kitchen tool museum, sprawling over 7,000 square feet in a former rag warehouse. This seems like a risky proposition given the times, but the partners have reason to be confident: They’ve got impressive pedigrees. Rosenblum and Erkkinen are the owners of The Brooklyn Kitchen, a 700 square-foot kitchenware shop that has become the hearth of Williamsburg’s culinary community, and Mylan, who Julie Powell called “the Hunter S. Thompson of butchers,” was the tip-to-tail genius behind Marlow and Daughters until his departure this summer.

The three bonded when Mylan taught a series of exceptionally popular pig-butchering classes at the store, in which a dozen customers would crowd around a small counter and watch the master at work. The store’s nightly classes, all aimed at home cooks (other subjects include pickling, soufflé-making, and kombucha) led directly to The Labs; as Rosenblum said, holding them in-store “was detrimental to the classes—we couldn’t even advertise them, they were so popular—and also detrimental to retail sales in the store during classes.” [I can attest to this, having taken their hands-on cake decorating class—seven of us (plus our cakes) squeezed around that small counter, directly in front of the store’s knife section as well as its cash register.]

Once the partners decided to create a separate space for teaching, they seized the opportunity to build something much more ambitious. When all the work is finally complete, The Brooklyn Kitchen Labs will offer:

• Two classrooms with full kitchens, one a soaring, 1200-square foot space, the other intended for hands-on teaching. “If we want to do a bread demonstration for 60 it’s going to be in the big space, but if someone wants to have a private bread class for 12 people, we can do it in the smaller space,” Rosenblum said. They’re hoping to grow beyond the single-session classes they’ve become famous for, and develop building-block series of themed classes. For example, Mylan explained how his butchering series might work: “If they take one class and they’re just like, ‘Oh man, this is fascinating,’ and want to learn more about that, they can go and take the other classes; sort of flesh out the whole process.”
• A full-service butcher shop called The Meat Hook, offering Mylan’s head-to-hoof meats and house-made, meat-based products
• The Bulk Room, which will sell carefully curated oils, vinegars, spices, beans, and other dry goods in bulk
• A room selling supplies for beer- and wine-making
• A cookbook center that includes both a store featuring hard-to-find cookbooks like the UK’s River Cottage Handbooks, and a research library filled with classic and out-of-print cookbooks and food reference works
• A kitchen tools museum, which will display Rosenblum’s collection of “weird, esoteric, vintage cooking tools, like an original Twinkie filler press, patented in 1915 for filling pastries,” he said.

I asked Rosenblum and Mylan if they were nervous about opening such a huge operation in this economy, and both were optimistic. Rosenblum said, “I think that as long as we can be very careful that the product we are supplying is the best product that can be supplied, at what is viewed as a decent price for that product, there is value and people are aware of the value.” As far as The Meat Hook is concerned, Mylan told me, “One thing we’re going to try to communicate to people is this: You don’t need a bunch of pork chops. You can get one pork shank and braise that out in a bean stew and feed just as many people for a fraction of the cost.” And for those who aren't sure they're ready to spend more for meat that’s sourced as carefully as Mylan’s, Rosenblum wants to educate them. “You should buy the whole chicken at $4 a pound because it tastes better and it’s safer and you can do a lot more with it, and here’s how you use all of the parts,” he said.

Rosenblum, Erkkinen, and Mylan are creating what could become the epicenter of Brooklyn’s New Culinary Movement, and they’re doing it in keeping with the ethos of their comrades—this is very much a home-grown operation, using Erkkinen's background in engineering and Rosenblum's carpentry skills and contractor contacts. Much of the material for the space, everything from The Meat Hook’s band saw to the walk-in refrigerator, is bought second-hand or repurposed from its original use. The walls of the Bulk Room, for example, are paneled with the warehouse’s original flooring, and some of the cabinetry, lighting, and other building materials come from Build It Green in Astoria.

The Brooklyn Kitchen, Rosenblum and Erkkinen's original store, opened in November 06. Just three years later, they're at the vanguard of a home-cooking revolution that promises to be every bit as exciting as Brooklyn's specialty foods explosion.

(If you need visuals, Grub Street's got a slideshow with pictures of the work-in-progress that look an awful lot like mine.)

The Brooklyn Kitchen Labs
100 Frost St., entrance on Meeker Ave.
Williamsburg

In Which Food Poisoning Leads to The Easiest Cake Ever

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Saturday was shaping up to be a busy day around here—we had a birthday party to attend in the afternoon and a wedding that night, plus Stephen needed a haircut and we had errands to run in the morning, so I had a brainstorm: For breakfast, let’s go to that diner across the street from the barber! Yeah, I knew we hardly ever went there because every time we do we’re reminded how truly mediocre/borderline terrible the food is, but it’s across the street from the barber! Stephen could run over and get his hair cut while we waited for the food to arrive! And there'd be no kitchen to clean after we ate! Thank you, I am a genius.

Eh, not so much.

I ordered a veggie frittata and it didn’t taste half bad. Not great, but not half bad. I didn’t feel compelled to keep eating it, though, which is kinda strange for me—lately I’ve been Hoovering everything in sight. At the halfway point I realized I was already feeling uncomfortably full, so I abandoned the effort and felt quite proud of myself. (You know where this is going, don’t you?)

Cut to a few hours later. I was driving us over to the birthday party when I realized I’d never even thought about lunch, never mind my usual mid-morning snack. I was still feeling, let’s say, strange in the belly area. But I shrugged it off and was secretly pleased at all the calories I’d saved. Soon enough, though, that strange feeling began to mutate into something more sinister—by the time we reached our friends’ house I was already thinking about heading home. Let’s just say I didn’t make it that far before things turned nasty.

My friends, I don’t remember the last time I puked so much, and so forcefully. I was Regan MacNeil for a while there. I did not attend that night’s wedding (sorry, M&J!).

Luckily, by Sunday morning the hurling was over and I was merely feeling woozy. I actually felt strong enough to hang out with Harry solo for a while. And of course, being my child, he asked if we could bake a cake. Empathy is, apparently, nonexistent when you’re three—no matter how many times we’d explained to him how badly I needed to rest the day before, the little sweetheart had begged for my attention [read: burst into my room and thrown a tantrum] again and again. So a combination of guilt and resignation led me to say Sure, we can bake a cake!

A quick Google of “easiest cake ever” led to multiple blog posts about the same recipe—all of which agreed that it was, in fact, the easiest cake recipe known to man. As far as I can tell, the original is from Not Derby Pie and several others have since put their own spin on it. I must agree: It is the easiest cake ever, calling for just a handful of ingredients, one bowl, and a mixing spoon. I’ve tweaked it a teeny bit, adding a hit of almond extract, and the results are shockingly good.

I've got one piece of advice: If your three-year-old helper suggests adding a few M&Ms to the topping, go ahead and let him—you wouldn’t want to squelch a budding chef’s creativity, would you? Just don’t eat that part. Coming across a super-sweet chocolatey candy in the midst of this relatively sophisticated, moist, fruity cake is nearly as gross as eight hours of puking.

OK, it’s not really that gross. But it sure ain’t pleasant.

The Easiest Cake Ever

Adapted from Not Derby Pie
serves 8-12

1 cup flour
¾ cup sugar

2 eggs

½ cup canola oil

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon vanilla
 extract
¼ teaspoon almond extract
zest of 1 lemon

3 cups of fruit, any variety [I used frozen peaches and blueberries]

Preheat oven to 350. Coat a 9” round baking pan with cooking spray and set aside.

In a medium mixing bowl, combine everything but the fruit, then pour it into the prepared baking pan. Arrange the fruit on top—if you feel like getting fancy go ahead and be precise about it, but you could also just dump it in. [If you want to get really fancy, you could arrange the fruit on the bottom of the pan first, then pour the batter on top. After it's baked and cooled, turn it out of the pan onto a plate and you've got something downright pretty. I did not do this.]



Bake for 45-50 minutes, or until the top is golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. [The original recipe says 1 hour, but mine would’ve been burned to a crisp by then.] Cool in the baking pan.

Words to Eat By Is a Babble Nibbler!

Have you heard? Babble, the uber-popular parenting web site, has started a new food section. And as part of that food section, they've created a blog called Nibblers, and chosen a (sizable) handful of parent/food bloggers to contribute material. Words to Eat By is one of them.

If you're already a regular reader here you won't find anything new from me over there; they're using my existing blog posts (this afternoon they posted my Chicken Pot Pie recipe). But take a look anyway. If you're a parent, you'll find recipes and ideas from other blogs, and maybe you'll even find some new favorites! I've already found several.

(Relatively) Low-Fat Chicken Pot Pie

Stephen requested a less-saucy version, so I baked this one in a larger dish. Yours will be more substantial-looking, I promise!

I loves me some chicken pot pie, especially come cold weather. What could be cozier? But I’ve got three problems with the dish:

1. Most recipes call for whole milk or—gasp—cream. And homey don’t play that. I’m fat enough, thank you.
2. Thanks to the whole growing-up-kosher thing, I still cringe at the thought of cooking meat in dairy. A pat of butter to finish a sauce? Sometimes. A little Parmesan cheese in my meatballs? OK, that’s more like salt. But this? Nu uh.
3. Pie crust.

Points 1 and 2 I’ve addressed in a way that makes me terribly happy: Instead of using dairy products to make a thick, creamy sauce, I rely on a combination of potato starch-thickened chicken broth and a roux, of sorts. The result is every bit as rich and satisfying as the creamy versions (at least, to me it is), but it’s got much less fat and fewer calories. Granted, that pie crust means it’s hardly a diet dish, but if you want something homey and luscious and comforting that won't bust your belt, you can’t go wrong with this recipe.

And speaking of the pie crust, I’ve got two solutions:

1. Pillsbury. Their refrigerated crust is pretty darn good—and for us time-pressed parents, it’s downright fabulous.
2. Thanks to a reader comment on that rant about pie crust, I learned about the Pastry Dough from Staff Meals from Chanterelle. I figured it was worth a shot and I had the time, so I gave it a whirl. It wasn’t perfect—far from it—but it’s as close as I’ve ever gotten to a good crust. Definitely trying that one again!

Maybe Harry’s going to take after his mom & become a food blogger


This recipe is perfect for those of us with napping tots. Follow the directions to cook it in stages, and you'll manage to get an impressive dinner on the table without running yourself ragged!

(Relatively) Low-Fat Chicken Pot Pie
Serves 6

6 cups reduced-sodium chicken broth
1 bay leaf
3 sprigs fresh thyme or 2 teaspoons dried
1 large potato, peeled and chopped into ½” chunks
2 large or 3 small carrots, peeled and chopped into ½” chunks (or use frozen, see below)
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 onion, diced
3-4 tablespoons flour, plus more for rolling out dough
frozen peas or peas and carrots, as much as you like, unthawed
3 cooked chicken breasts, chopped*
salt & pepper
1 unbaked pie crust, either store-bought or homemade
1 egg, beaten

Stage 1:
Combine first four ingredients (through potatoes) in a large saucepan and bring to a boil. Lower heat and simmer until potatoes are barely cooked—10-15 minutes. Use a slotted spoon to remove potatoes and put in a bowl (don’t worry if some of the thyme comes out, too). Add carrots to broth, if using, and simmer until barely cooked, around 8 minutes. Remove the carrots to the same bowl as the potatoes. Remove bay leaf and thyme branches and reserve broth. If you’re Nap-Time Cooking, refrigerate everything.

Stage 2:
Preheat oven to 425 and pull pie crust from the fridge (unless you’re Nap-Time Cooking, in which case wait until Stage 3). Spray a 9 x 13 baking dish with cooking spray and set aside. Heat the olive oil in your largest frying pan over medium heat; add the onion. Sauté until translucent but not browned, 5-8 minutes, then sprinkle the flour over the onion. Cook, stirring, until flour takes on a golden tone. Add reserved broth—stir it first to incorporate the starch from the potatoes—and simmer until the broth thickens. Add the reserved vegetables, the frozen vegetables, and the cooked chicken, and cook just until heated through. Taste and add salt and pepper until you're happy. Pour mixture into prepared baking dish. If Nap-Time Cooking, refrigerate again.

Stage 3:
If your oven’s not already preheated and your crust isn’t on the counter, now’s the time.

Sprinkle a little flour on a clean surface (I use a Roul'Pat Pastry Mat). Roll out dough until it’s an inch wider than your baking dish on all sides, and drape it on top. Tuck edges under, and score the top so steam can escape. Brush dough with beaten egg, and into the oven it goes. Bake 20 minutes, or until the crust begins to brown, then lower the heat to 350 and bake another 25-30 minutes, until the filling is bubbling and the crust is a lovely golden-brown color. Let sit 5-10 minutes before serving.



* I didn’t have any cooked chicken, so before I cooked the potatoes & carrots I poached some in the pot of broth.

Linkety Split

Nearly five years ago, I wrote about Philadelphia German Butter Cake (fittingly enough, when another Philly team was in the finals for their sport). Today, the NY Times takes on the St. Louis version.

Some exciting news for pizza-loving North Brooklynites: friend of Slice Paulie Gee is opening in Greenpoint's old Paloma space. Kenny's, Fornino, Morotino, Roberta's, and now Paulie's? We are awash in artisanal pizza.

How to eat a chicken wing with little or no mess. I couldn't care less (ick) but Stephen is a winghound, so this is for him.

The Apple Cake I blogged about for Rosh Hashanah rocks. But if you're looking for one that uses dairy, I'd say Pinch My Salt has a winner.

Don't believe I've ever eaten raw kale, but this recipe for Kale Slaw with Peanut Dressing from The Kitchn sure is tempting.

God Hates Shrimp. (Warning: Don't click through if you, y'know, don't like equality for everyone.)

Not exactly food-related, but Nestle's involved: They're funding a new playground in Williamsburg. With a train theme! Harry's going to LOVE IT.

And not at all food-related, but vitally important: Lloyd Dobler takes over NYC, and I miss it?!

I'm thinking about making this Linkety Split thing a regular feature on Words to Eat By. Thoughts, anyone? Leave a comment!

We Have a Winner!

Jennifer Margulis, you are now the proud owner of five new cookbooks! Congratulations! And thanks to everyone who entered. It's been quite the momentous five years; I'm not sure whether to hope for something calmer for the next five, or more of the same.

Ending Tonight: My 5-Year Blogaversary/5-Cookbook Giveaway

Have you entered yet?

Pan-Roasted Carrots with Crispy Sage

There are three reasons why I love this recipe:

1. These days, I love anything with crispy sage.
2. It requires approximately six minutes of actual attention. Perfect for the harried parent—the carrots roasted away while we put Harry to bed, with only occasional shakes of the pan.
3. If I hadn’t told you about point #2, you’d never know. This is elegant enough, and impressive enough, to serve to company.

So. Go. Make these. Enjoy their browned, nearly crunchy edges, their meltingly soft, lightly sweet centers, and—best of all—the delicate snippets of herb that shatter between your teeth and leave behind a bewitching, woodsy flavor.

Just don’t tell anyone how easy they are.

Pan-Roasted Carrots with Crispy Sage
Serves 2, but doubles easily

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon butter
10 small or 5 large fresh sage leaves, slivered
4 large or 6 small carrots, cut on the diagonal into ½” slices
salt & pepper

In a large nonstick frying pan, heat oil and butter over a medium-high flame. When foaming subsides, sprinkle in slivered sage leaves. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the color changes—shouldn’t take much more than a minute—then remove and drain on paper towel.

Add carrots to pan and lower heat to medium. Add salt and pepper to taste, stir to coat carrots with the sage-scented fat, then cover and cook, stirring occasionally, until tender and browned around the edges. Add fried sage back to the pan, toss, and serve.

Halloween in Brooklyn? A Child Grows Knows

Just a quick post for my Brooklyn peeps...

If you're a parent and you're looking for fun Halloween stuff to do in NYC, you can't go wrong with A Child Grows in Brooklyn's massive roundup. (Full disclosure: I'm the "food expert" for the site, but I had nothing to do with collecting all this fabulous info.) Check it out!

Tumbador PB&J Bar: Worth Every Penny

According to Slashfood, it’s National Chocolate Day. Huh. I had no idea. But perhaps that explains why I’ve been pretty much mainlining the stuff all day. People, I am out of control. Don’t tell Stephen, but I even raided his freezer stash of Hershey’s almond bars. You scoff? So do I; a straight-up, room temperature Hershey bar doesn’t tempt me in the slightest. (OK, the smell might tempt me since anything that smells like chocolate tempts me, but one waxy nibble is enough to remind me why I hold out for the good stuff.) Frozen, however, and studded with almonds, even a Hershey bar is pretty freaking good. Pleasantly hefty, with a great snap. Better yet, though, is one of these:



That’s a PB&J Bar from Tumbador, and as it says on the label it’s handmade right here in Brooklyn. It caught my eye the other day at the Bedford Cheese Shop, our local supplier of overpriced elitist goodies. It’s quite an unassuming package, isn’t it? Upon close inspection, the label appears to be printed off a home computer (their Web site is equally inelegant). Wisely, the Cheese folks keep them next to the register—I took one look at the $4.50 price tag and put the darn thing back down, but then I made the mistake of asking the salesperson if they’re any good. She assured me that yes, they’re really good, and since I don’t require a whole lot of convincing when it comes to chocolate, I snuck one into my coat pocket (after paying, of course—Harry was with me and as far as he knows, we don’t eat candy regularly in this family. Ha! Stupid child).

So, what does one get for $4.50? It’s a distressingly small bar:


Why yes, that is a hundred-dollar bill. I use them to ignite the pilot light.

Stephen and I split it after Harry went to bed that night, which meant that we each got approximately three bites, at $.75/bite. Outrageous, when you think about it. Buuuut, each bite was definitely worth it. Who needs fancy labels and sparkly Web sites? These Tumbador people put all their money into the goods. The crisp, peanutty praline had an exciting pop to it. I would’ve enjoyed that part all on its own. But the thin layer of raspberry pâte de fruit provided the perfect amount of ever so slightly chewy resistance, and the dark, dark chocolate coating—come on, people, how can you go wrong dunking something in good-quality dark chocolate? And with that little sprinkle of tart powdered raspberry on top? It tasted so darned good that I went back and bought a second one the very next day. The salesperson remembered me and commented on my quick return, which was a little embarrassing, so I explained that I’m doing it for you, dear readers! I simply had to buy another one, just to photograph it for Words to Eat By.

Never say I don’t love you.

How to Make Chicken Soup in Your Sleep

Chicken soup in your sleep? What? How?

If you're a regular reader, you can probably guess what I'm going to say: Make it in the slow cooker. After we eat a cozy roast chicken dinner (if you're curious, I'm still in love with the super-fast, super-easy butterflying technique I blogged about a while back), I clear the table. But instead of scooping everything into the garbage, I take the carcass and all the random bones and toss them into the slow cooker. Add a couple peeled and chunked carrots, some cut-up celery, an unpeeled onion, quartered, and some peppercorns. Parsley's nice if you've got it, but no biggie if you don't. Parsnips, too. Add as much cold water as the cooker will hold and turn it on low. Wake up in the morning to rich, homemade chicken soup! Strain it and toss the solids, since they've given up all their flavor to the golden liquid that results. Refrigerate the broth, and in the evening skim off the congealed fat before using.

I used my most recent batch of broth to make Italian Wedding Soup; watch for a recipe this week. Seriously, folks, this is cooking even the busiest parent can pull off. And talk about multitasking: How many other ways can you think of to be this productive with your eyes closed?

5-year Blogaversary? 5-Cookbook Giveaway!

My friends, today is a momentous day. Words to Eat By is five years old. I’ve known for some time this was coming—when I updated my “about” page a while back I was actually editing my very first post, so the date kinda stuck in my head. But even with all that time to think about the proper way to mark such an important occasion, I still wound up scrambling. See, that might be the number one difference between me now and me then: Free time. Back then I was a newlywed, freelance writing from home and spending hours every day doing research (ahem, procrastinating) by reading cookbooks, food magazines, and other food blogs. Did I feel like experimenting with batch after batch of chocolate chip cookies, adjusting until I found the cookie of my dreams? No problem. These days, on the other hand, I’m lucky if I have half an hour during Harry’s so-called “quiet time” to consider what we’ll eat that night. It might be a while before I can come up with another Roasted Pears with Sugar & Spiced Pecans and Poire William Caramel Sauce.

Not that I’m complaining—this here life of mine is pretty darn sweet, and oh am I in love with my houseful of men: Stephen, Harry, and Samuel kitty. I’m thrilled to be back blogging again (taking almost two years off sorta makes this my 3^rd anniversary, but I won’t tell if you won’t), and in honor of WTEB’s birthday, I’ve rounded up five of my favorite recipes. These are all dishes I consider my own—some were inspired by specific recipes I found elsewhere, and others were the result of tinkering and adjusting and tinkering some more. All of them are old reliables, friends I turn to again and again.

1. Pasta with Roasted Cauliflower, Figs, and Mint: I know, it sounds weird. But holy cow do those flavors work together nicely.
2. A Quick Sauté of Corn, Tomato, and Zucchini: I make this at least once a week, all summer long.
3. Polynesian Flank Steak: It’s got three ingredients, people, and that includes the steak.
4. The Simplest Herb Marinade Ever: Good on chicken, good on fish, light, fresh, lively flavors.
5. Spicy Sautéed Tilapia with Olives and Grape Tomatoes: The only fish recipe my fish-hating husband actually asks me to make.

I wouldn’t be true to myself or to Words to Eat By if I didn’t include my favorite dessert recipes, too. You’ll notice, they all include chocolate. Of course.

1. The Best Homemade Chocolate Chip Cookies in the Entire World: Far and away, the most popular recipe on this site. Try them; you won’t be sorry.
2. Chocolate Yogurt Loaf: Oh so rich, but shockingly not-bad-for-you.
3. Samoas: Others have followed, but I do believe I was the first to make (or at least blog about) a homemade version of my favorite Girl Scout Cookies.
4. Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream Cake: For his birthday one year, Stephen asked for a Carvel cake; I went him one better.
5. Chocolate Pizzelles: Not too sweet, wonderfully crunchy, and you get to use a nifty gadget.

In keeping with the whole Five Favorites theme, I’m celebrating my blogaversary with a gift to you, dear readers. One lucky person will win copies of my five favorite cookbooks! Brand-new copies, not my broken-spined, food-spattered ones, of: How To Cook Everything,The Barefoot Contessa Cookbook,Not Your Mother's Slow Cooker Cookbook,The New Doubleday Cookbook,and Moosewood Restaurant Book of Desserts.

That’s right, here’s your chance to win five fabulous cookbooks, each of which I rely on regularly, as a thank you for reading along with me. All you have to do is leave a comment in which you name a favorite Words to Eat By recipe. New to the site? Browse through the Recipe Index for inspiration! The giveaway ends in one week—on Saturday, October 31, I’ll announce the lucky winner.

By now you’re probably wondering if I’m going to include a new recipe in this post. Of course I am, silly! It’s for those very delicious-looking (and tasting) German Chocolate Cupcakes you see up there. For the cupcakes themselves, I used a recipe I’ve grown to love: Dark Chocolate Layer Cake. It’s moist and very, very chocolaty, inspired by a recipe in one of my favorite dessert books, Moosewood Restaurant Book of Desserts. To top them, I returned to that book for what may just be my favorite frosting of all, German Chocolate. That mix of dulce de leche-like sweetness, toasted coconut, and toasted pecans gets me every time. I like it so much, in fact, that until now I’ve resisted even making it—I was afraid I’d just sit down with the pan of frosting and eat it all, cupcakes be damned. But for you, my dear readers, I’ll sacrifice. I’ll make German Chocolate Frosting. I’ll put it on cupcakes. And I’ll eat them. All for you.

Thank you for reading along with me for all this time. I do appreciate it, and I’d love to hear from you in the comments. And don’t forget: Pick a favorite recipe and leave a comment about it by October 31, and you could win five of my favorite cookbooks!

German Chocolate Frosting

From Moosewood Restaurant Book of Desserts

2/3 cup sugar

2/3 cup evaporated milk [I used skim]

2 egg yolks

1/3 cup butter

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 heaping cup unsweetened shredded coconut, toasted

1 cup chopped pecans, toasted

Combine the first four ingredients (through butter) in a small saucepan and bring to a boil, stirring constantly. Reduce heat to low and simmer until thick, stirring occasionally, 12 to 15 minutes—watch carefully, as a light that’s a little too high will make it boil over. Remove from heat and stir in remaining ingredients. Spread it on cupcakes while still a little warm.

Oh Pie, Why Must You Taunt Me So?

Pie really isn't my thing. Eating pie? I'm great at that. But making pie? Not so much. The fillings are no problem, easy as (wait for it) pie. I'm talking crust here, folks. Pie crust is beyond my skill set, apparently. I think it's the rolling: I can never seem to make it come out even; there are always patchy bits that tear on the way to the pan. And even if I do manage to get it assembled and into the oven, the end result is usually tough, not tender. Chewy, not flaky. Altogether not worth the effort. I had a boyfriend once who was really into pie. Seemed like the perfect opportunity to finally master a basic recipe that's been deviling me for years. After my third attempt, complete with behind-the-scenes tears (both in the crust and in my eyes), after which he gently put down his fork and smiled at me the way I now smile at Harry when he draws a blob, I consigned my rolling pin to the back cabinet. We broke up soon after. I blame the pie.

So lord knows what possessed me to think I could bake a pie now. But I was browsing through last year's Thanksgiving issue of Cooking Light and the picture was just so pretty, and the crust wasn't a traditional pie crust (it's made with oats! whole grain!), and it was pecan pie, something I find irresistible in general... You know where this is going, right? I'll cut to the chase:

That, my friends, is a piece of pie right out of the pan. The pecan part was mighty tasty, mighty tasty indeed. But the crust? FAIL. Rock-hard on the outside, soggy in the center, and gritty to boot. Of course, had I bothered to check the reviews before I started, I would've skipped the whole darn thing.

My quest for a pie recipe I can actually make continues. Do you have one you consider foolproof? Please share! Cuz when it comes to pie crust, I am definitely a fool.

Parents Need To Eat, Too: Cooking Classes for New Parents, Starting Soon!

That’s right, folks, it’s time to announce the next series of cooking classes. This round of Parents Need to Eat, Too, begins the week of October 26. If you’re a new parent, or know someone who is, read on…

Until the Culinary Institute welcomes breastfeeding moms and toddler toys into the kitchen, this is the best cooking & camaraderie class you’ll find in the 5 boroughs. The intimacy of [Debbie’s] kitchen means you should sign up early. It books FAST. –KidCityNY.com

Now that baby's here, are you finding it as hard as I did to make sure you’re eating well? Living on takeout and jarred pasta sauce? Come and learn in my Williamsburg kitchen! Parents Need to Eat, Too, focuses on recipes and techniques that are easy enough for beginners and frazzled new parents—delicious, nutritious meals you can make in stages during junior's naps, or cook super-fast after you put her to bed. You'll leave each class with that night's dinner. Along the way you'll learn tips about cooking in general, and meet other parents to compare notes with.

There are four sessions:

• The New Mom’s Pantry, in which we’ll discuss the staples that make life easier when there’s a baby in the house, and prepare a lightning-fast dinner using items from the pantry
• Big Batch Cooking, in which you’ll learn how to cook once and eat multiple times
• The Slow Cooker, in which you’ll learn how to use the new mom’s best friend (and don’t worry if you don’t have one—I’ll teach you how to adapt slow cooker recipes to your oven)
• Nap Time Cooking, in which you’ll learn to break down more complicated recipes into stages, to be completed while junior naps

The series of four classes is $200—that includes the food, the lessons, the chitchat, plus a weekly packet of recipes to try at home.

We’ll meet once a week from 9:30-11 in my apartment’s kitchen, four consecutive weeks starting the week of October 26th. The exact day will be determined based on the majority's availability. Babies and children are welcome, of course—the whole point of the class is to learn how to cook while taking care of your baby.

Here’s what previous students had to say:

“I am an extremely inexperienced cook…. You gave me tools that I could work with instead of just a handful of dishes that I could make. I’m incredibly thankful that you gave me this opportunity to learn how to improve my family’s diet—and life.” –Susan

“First: You are a natural teacher and a gifted recipe inventor. Delightful. All of the recipes just work. More than I can say for Nigella or some of the people I own the cookbooks of…. Second: You are very realistic and unpretentious when it comes to scale and ambition in your recipes. Bravo—so many parent-oriented cookbook authors are sooooo obnoxious in assuming that every parent has a huge fancy kitchen in the suburbs, time and money to buy all premium ingredients, and of course a kid that takes regularly scheduled 4 hour naps.” –Amy

“The class inspired me to cook more often and get over the mentality that I didn’t have enough time to cook anything really good. I have definitely become more confident in the kitchen, which was a major goal… Thanks for a great class and helping me to get back into cooking and making better/healthier meals!” –Jenn

Interested? Click the "contact" button, top right, or leave me a comment down below (just be sure to include an email address).

Sick as a Dog

*cough cough*

Send chicken soup. Please.