Lilikoi & Thyme

A favorite cocktail in our house this summer involves market strawberries muddled with mint or basil, a few healthy squeezes of lime juice, and copious amounts of gin, often topped up with a little tonic water or club soda.  While enjoying one of these beverages after a long day of summer, and while staring at the mountains of strawberries in the fridge, inspiration struck for the perfect hot afternoon refresher.  Since a gimlet is all about the gin and lime, I boost the flavor of gin with a few crushed juniper berries, and include the zest as well as the juice of the limes.

Strawberry Gimlet Sorbet

• 4 cups strawberries, hulled and halved
• 2 limes
• 3-5 whole juniper berries
• 2 shots of gin (2 1/2 ounces)
• 2 tablespoons sugar

Puree strawberries in a blender or food processor.  Grate the zest of the limes into sugar in large bowl. Smash the juniper berries, and toss them in with the sugar. Juice both limes,  and add with a shot of gin, and whisk until completely dissolved.  Add puree and chill until very cold, 1-2 hours or overnight.  Pick out the juniper berries and freeze in electric ice cream maker 20 min, then add the second shot of gin and continue to churn another 10 minutes or until stiff soft serve consistency. Transfer to container and freeze in freezer until firm.

I’ve been sitting on this recipe for a while now. Lilikoi is pretty darn hard to come by, even in the mecca of produce that is Southern California, so I’ve been scouring Los Angeles for a source for a few months now.  I started working on this dish back in January when I spent time in Honolulu. I had a chance to visit a crazy lady with an organic farm that just spilled lilikoi off the vines that covered all the trees on her 3 acres in Waimanalo.  We had a fascinating conversation about her PhD in agricultural economics and the farm school project she was pioneering in a poor area of country Oahu. And she also told me about how the land speaks to her, saying for instance, ‘the universe wants papaya trees,’ or ‘the ipu gourd shall be your guardian.’

The upside of this, um, communing with her garden is that she doesn’t feel the need to use any pesticides, or fertilizer, or grafts, or seeds, or rows, or much of anything.  She has volunteers who clear dead brush, but otherwise relies on the wild neighborhood chickens to scatter her seeds for her. It was an enlightening afternoon. I took home 3 dozen fresh, beautiful lilikoi to experiment with: seared ahi with a lilikoi herb marinade, lilikoi sorbet, lilikoi cocktails, and of course, lilikoi lemon bars.  But, when I ran out of testing time in Honolulu and came back to LA to perfect the recipes, I encountered a problem. No lilikoi.

Read the rest of this entry »

Wow, what a week in Portland. It was non-stop meeting to lunch to meeting to seminar to meeting, and it was pretty amazing.  I met some fascinating people who are doing such cool work in the food world, and I can’t wait to see them all again next year in Austin.

On Wednesday afternoon, late after a meeting with the boss, I missed the beginning of the 3-hour seminar I was supposed to attend, which was actually just fine by me because it meant I could steal away for an hour or so to Powell’s Books, just a few blocks away in downtown Portland.  Powell’s is a mecca for bibliophiles like me–it’s the largest bookstore in the world that combines new and used books, and it takes up a whole city block. So I switched from slacks and heels to jeans and sneakers to walk over and get lost in the stacks of cookbooks.

I found some truly wonderful books (packing to come home became something of an issue) like one of Gourmet’s first cookbooks from 1950, a really cool book on canning and preserving the produce of Hawaii and a 70’s era reproduction of the very first Fannie Farmer edition. As I was checking out, I wondered aloud to the guy at the counter if they had a Hawaiian Cooking section I might have missed. He said, ‘oh, yeah! Come, follow me,’ and led me to a little shelf at the back of the regional section, a good 2 feet above my eye level.  I set down my stack of books and pulled over a ladder.  In the middle of the shelf was a pretty green book, the kind put out by associations of women or charity leagues, and this one was titled “We, The Women of Hawaii.” It came out in 1986, the year I turned one, and was compiled by a group of influential women in Honolulu social scene.  I found a list of contributors on the inside cover, and there in bold print was my grandma’s name! What a rock star!

When I got home yesterday, the first thing I did was sit down on the couch with a cup of tea and flip through the pages to find the recipes with ‘Amy Matsuda’ printed in the margins next to the text. I should have known–her recipes in the book were her two most famous specialties, cream puffs and oatmeal cookies. They’re legends in the family, and apparently they were known outside the Matsuda household too.  Grandma’s oatmeal cookies are super special, and totally unlike the doughy soft raisiney things you most often find.  These are crisp and thin, almost wafers, with brown sugar and vanilla, and the taste of oats in the starring role.  Perfect with coffee, delicious with ice cream, these guys are snacked on any time of day, so the cookie jar never stays full for long.  As for the crumbs at the bottom of the jar, the crushed cookies make an amazing cheesecake or pie crust–substitute the oatmeal cookies for graham crackers and you’ve got a hearty, crunchy crust. Grandma’s original recipe makes about 8 dozen cookies, which is perfectly practical if your house is full of 6 kids and 14 grandkids like hers.  For my somewhat smaller household, I’ve halved the recipe and made a couple of small changes. Don’t worry, I have Grandma’s approval.

Read the rest of this entry »

Chocolate, while tempting in nearly any state, becomes irresistible to me when it’s got a hint of heat.  A spicy hot chocolate (a la the movie Chocolat) is an incredible treat for a blustery winter afternoon. But, as the weather is finally warming up and beginning to look like Spring, it’s time for a cool, smooth luscious dessert with a kick.  I served this recipe to two of my very willing recipe taster friends, one of whom got the bowl with an, ahem, very healthy sprinkle of cayenne pepper garnish. He was sweating, licking the spoon, cursing, licking the bowl–that’s all to say, be gentle with the cayenne. It’s addictive and intense, and it’s easy to go overboard.

Read the rest of this entry »

What’s a malasada, you ask?  Oh, let me tell you.  A malasada is a kind of Portuguese donut–since it’s Portuguese, it’s amazingly rich with egg yolks and butter–that I’ve routinely overindulged in to the point of illness since I was 6 years old.  Malasadas are a local favorite in Honolulu and, not to brag, but my high school’s recipe is legendary.  Every February, the school puts on the Punahou Carnival and the fist-sized malasadas are sold by the thousands at the impressive price of 50₵ per donut. The Carnival supplies the scholarship fund for the school, so it isn’t much of an exaggeration to say that my education was sponsored by these rich, soft, sugary treats.

I mentioned a milestone a while back, and as promised, here comes the first of a string of event-based recipes. Here’s the deal–I’m getting married!  We’re deep into the planning stage, and my mind is a flood of hors d’oeuvres, cocktail recipes, and other nice little yummy touches to make the guests feel welcome and make the day a memorable one for all.

As far as I’m concerned, a malasada means festivity and special occasion indulgence. So, I’m excited about this little beverage as a welcome-to-the-party/good-morning-sunshine for the bridal party. High quality Kona coffee is a hard thing to beat. Spiked with a bit of Kahlua or maybe some Bailey’s Irish Cream it’s a great way to begin a day of celebration. Garnished with miniature malasadas, could there be anything better?

So now I have a favor to ask you. We’re entered in a contest to win $100,000 for our dream wedding, of which these mini malasadas are a small (& essential) piece.  We need you to vote!! The final round is decided by number of votes then after that it’s up to the judges, but we need your help to get there.  Pretty please???

I’ll make you a dozen malasadas each if we make it to the finals–Promise!

Read the rest of this entry »