Also:

It has just been decided that I am making this for dinner. Today is shaping up quite wonderfully, wouldn't you agree? 

Sweet Potatoes: A Love Story

I blame Dionna Schmidt. 

When she came over nearly 5 years ago and effortlessly threw a sweet potato in the oven, I can only assume that she was unaware of the beast she so easily unleashed. A salt and peppered temptress. A dangerous love with tiny, delicious, orange cubes. A tasty, tasty, slow baked sweet potato. 

Since that day, my obsession has only grown deeper. Here I sit, typing this very post, with a plate of baked sweet potatoes sitting in front of me. For the third time this week. Ok. The fourth time. I just can't help myself. 

They are, in my opinion the nicest vegetable. And the most forgiving. I can chop them up in the most casual of ways with all different shapes and sizes, no real uniformity required, douse with a little olive oil, slide them in the oven, literally forget about them, and 45 minutes later, that are better than ever. The only flaw in that scenario is that I would NEVER forget about them. Ever. Because from the second the word "lunchtime" dances into my head each day, I am counting down the seconds until the oven does it's job and I can pop these little bite sized beauties into my pie hole for immaculate consumption. 

So, secret admirer, this Valentine's Day, don't send me flowers. Don't send me chocolate. Send a shoe box full of sweet potatoes. And I'll be yours forever. 

Merry (Belated) Christmas

Merry Christmas to you all! I know it's late and you might be reading this on the not very Christmasy 26th of December, but I just wanted to make a quick post under the wire before the day is done.

What did you do to celebrate?

My entire family on my dad's side came over and my mom made an amazing meal of Beef Wellington, cheesy potatoes, broccoli with blue cheese, and Root Vegetables (a big hit). I was in charge of dessert (major pressure) and I made a very messy and dramatic mixed berry pie with homemade crust and then some wonderfully rich chocolate soufflés. I know, I know. . . two desserts. . . a little excessive, but I couldn't resist. I am still so puffy and full of holiday seasoned gluttony.

During dinner, Dad read a few Bible verses to remind us the real reason of Christmas and no matter how many times I hear those verses, they always make me tear up.

To ward off any early evening boredom, Kaitlin and my mom decided that everyone in the family was required to bring their best (or corniest) Christmas joke to tell. Mine was "Why does Santa have three garden's? . . . So he can 'Ho, Ho, Ho!'" (See? Corny.) Kaitlin won with the joke "What is the difference between a male snowman and a female snowman? . . . Snowballs!" It was a hit. We also played a new game called "Left, Right, Center" which was absolutely the best. Both the joke and the game had prizes on the line-- a sure fire way to get full participation with this crowd.

It was, most certainly, a wonderful Christmas. I hope yours was truly wonderful as well.

PS- Before the holiday season is over (NO!) how great are these pictures of Jimmy Stewart throwing snowballs between takes of filming It's a Wonderful Life? Gosh, I love that movie.

Midnight

Watching this video at nine o'clock yesterday morning made starting to bake a loaf a of bread at 9:04 sound like a good idea.

And it made listening to Patsy Cline while my loaf was baking really easy.

And then eating the bread on the porch at midnight taste so good.

Salted Caramel Brownies

THIS MUST  HAPPEN TODAY. GET IN MY BELLY. 

Recipe: The Best Salted Caramel Brownies

You'll need:

1 cup (2 sticks) butter

4 1-oz. squares of dark chocolate

2 cups sugar

4 eggs

1 tsp. vanilla extract

1 cup all-purpose flour

1/2 tsp. salt

1/4 cup caramel topping (this is my favorite)

1 tsp. good quality sea salt 

What to do: 

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F and grease a 9x13 inch baking pan.

In a 3-quart saucepan over very low heat, melt butter and chocolate, stirring the mixture constantly. Remove from heat, and stir the sugar into the chocolate. Allow the mixture to cool slightly. 

Beat in the eggs one at a time, mixing well after each, then stir in the vanilla. Combine the flour and 1/2 tsp. salt in a separate bowl, then stir into the chocolate mixture. 

Spread the batter evenly into the prepared pan. Drizzle the caramel atop the batter, and use a knife to swirl over the surface. Sprinkle sea salt over the caramel.

Bake for 30 to 35 minutes. Brownies are done when a toothpick inserted into the center come out clean. Cool in pan on wire rack.

Marketing

I went grocery shopping today (or, "marketing" as I, and everyone else in my family calls it... even though we may get made fun of from time to time...) and when I came home and started unloading all my goods, I noticed something sort of funny. Without even thinking, I started to clear out a shelf in the fridge and in the pantry to put my "Julia" stuff, just like I do at school. It's nice to be home and be able to put as much food in the fridge as I want or to disperse all of my food evenly throughout every single shelf in the freezer instead of a special section just for me. Funny how little weird things like that stick with you.

That's it. Just a funny little thought. 

PS- As much as I love this food storage freedom that comes with being home, I must say that I am now issuing a formal complaint to the other three inhabitants of my home for unlawful thievery in regards to  Oreos which do not belong to them. Whatever little mouse is stealing my double stufs is messing with the extensive Oreo eating schedule and regimen that I have perfectly crafted. BACK OFF! 

Forsyth Farmer's Market

Claire, Spencer and I   spent  the morning at our local Saturday Farmer's Market. 

It seems from this picture that Walker Farms really loved Claire. She must've made a really good Kale joke or something. 

It's never too early in the morning or late in the summer for a popsicle. 

I bought homemade spinach gnocchi (one of my faves) from the pasta stand and fresh tomatoes and onions for some sauce. 

And look who we ran into! Kara, Lindsay and Tyson the pup. Such a pretty amazing little family.

Who wants to come over and try out the goods?!

Stir

(My Kitchen)

Sometimes, all it takes is a smokey kitchen, the scent of garlic and some good music to completely remind me that cooking is and will always be my first true love. 

Thanks to an expensive wrist slapping and a "Wow, Julia, why didn't you just pay them right away?" sort of afternoon spent paying for my 7 (oops) over due parking tickets at the Savannah Transportation Department, and an accidentally consumed caffeinated drink this afternoon (read: splitting head ache), I have opted to spend the evening snacking on ciabatta at home making a dinner with the produce that was bought last weekend and patiently waited for it's time to shine.

Lately, my love affair with cooking and food has been reignited and I can tell you that this is far from the last time I will choose alone time in the kitchen over taking part in the much celebrated typical college Friday night fanfare.

(I posted this and now, while I'm eating, I realize that I have more to say)

This evening is reminding me of the slow and exciting process that I feel this summer of solitude kickstarted: The rediscovery of Julia.

What is it that makes me tick? What things, ideas, sounds, and people am I attracted to and why?

When I was able to take away nearly everything and everyone familiar and I was left with simply myself, the conclusions of these questions was truly, for maybe the very first time, left completely up to me. Me without you. Me without them. Me without what I thought me would do. Me without what I felt like you wanted me to do. Me without what I thought you thought I thought we thought we thought.

This process is sometimes exhilarating. And usually surprising. And I feel like I'm meeting a different me everyday.

But, I guess, isn't that exactly what college is for?

Ok.

I think that's really it for tonight. :)

350

I NEED to bake something sugary today.

I feel the pull of the oven and the whisk.

Every time I walk by the kitchen, I can hear the Kitchenaid whispering my name.

Chocolate something.

Or maybe some sort of fruit situation.

Or like a baked whatever.

I'll think about it.

Who wants to come over and help me eat it all?

Pie Week: Four and Twenty Blackbirds

The following is an exact transcription from note's taken live, on site, during pie consumption:

Four and Twenty Blackbirds:

Gowanus, Brooklyn

Heading back to Brooklyn. 

Bringing Jessie with me in case of Emergency.

Drank a lot of water all day in preparation.

After a quick subway ride from Soho, we walk up to an unassuming, street corner, joint. 

Friendly atmosphere.
Maybe a little hipster elitist, but the furniture seems friendly.

Cool antique forks.

Large, sturdy wood tables.

A general feel that matches and compliments the neighborhood in which it lives. 

Really inventive flavors.

I feel like they invented Pie.

I feel like they looked at an apple pie, threw away any recipe or notion of it that they might have had and started to reclaim each component from scratch to construct their perfect pie. 

Black bottom oat

Pecan filling without pecans

Oats on top

Chocolate bottom over the crust

dec.  a.  dent.

Jessie says: Weird after taste.

No way. 

This sucker is built for speed. 

So sweet and delicious.

The pecan-less pecan filling is genius.

And basically pie batter. 

And this, we have found, is truly the way to my heart. 

Salted caramel apple.

AMAAAAZZZINNNNNGGG.
I am so loving this "put some salt on it" trend that is happening in the dessert world. 
And just like wearing leggings under dresses, I don't want it to ever end.

Salt and caramel adds to a pie that is already perfectly crafted.

Not too salty.

Jessie disagrees. 

Too salty, she says.
She must not like leggings.

Thick crust.

Flakey.

Fresh apples. 

Could use a bit more caramel in my opinion. 

I see it, but I don't taste it.
It's taunting me. 
Still, I really like this pie. 

The homemade whipped cream.

A little chilled and super thick. 

To die for.

May even give Magnolia a run for it's money!

Overall Pie Week Grade: A

They do pie. And they do it well. 
I am already thinking of ways to fit in another visit before I leave. 

Not a great weekend for pie.

Friday: See this disaster.

Saturday: a pre-planned blackout day for Pie Week. Nothing to be alarmed about.

Sunday: I go to the Brooklyn Flea to get pie amongst the treasures of antique booths and the citizens of New York City. Instead, I faint due to dehydration.

No pie. No treasures.

Just me, some homeless people and free water at the cooling triage.

Barf.

Are you guys, like, totes bored with Pie Week? Because, I gotta be honest... I'm getting there. Little known fact about Julia: I have the attention span of a fly (see: haircuts). And the fact that I have followed through with four real visits to four real pie shops is pretty impressive for me. Not gonna lie. But technically I have three on the list to go! I mean, I have to keep going. I will always wonder about those pies if I were to bail last minute, but I can't help from daydreaming about a big fat ice cream sundae right now. Waaahhhh....

Pie Week: The Little Pie Company

The Little Pie Company: 

Midtown

Boyz II Men.

Michael Jackson.

Brian Mcknight.

Fluorescent lighting.

A framed picture of Jamie Foxx.

No signature.

Just a framed head shot.

Old men sitting outside.

I notice all of this within the first minute of walking in the door. 

This place is legit. 

THE PIE COMES WARM

Mississippi mud pie

Ummm. 

What? 

Am I eating heaven?

Because this is what heaven tastes like.

This whole pie basically consists of half baked brownie batter.

In other words: heaven.

And Usher just came on.

I've found the Mothership.

So decadent.

Only downfall is that it's so deliciously rich that it's hard to eat the whole thing.

This is a welcomed challenge.

A

Sour Cream Apple Walnut

I can't.

I can't.

This is it, you guys.

Why even continue?

This is the best apple pie.

In the world.

The crust is so flavorful.

Very brown sugary.

But still flaky and delicious.

Sidenote:

A man just came into the shop for the chocolate pudding cup. 

Apparently, it's his third of the day.

#locals

My attention is back on the pie.

Apples are very thinly sliced. 

Paper thin.

Hardly any sauciness going on. 

Some sort of sour cream and cinnamon concoction.

More boys to men is playing.

Little pieces of candied walnuts within the apples.

But not too many that I ever think to myself "Ugh, there are too many walnuts."

I am so very happy.

A+

As we walk out, I believe I can fly begins to play.

And I start to believe... maybe I can fly too...

Pie Week: Magnolia Bakery

The following is an exact transcription from note's taken live, on site, during pie consumption:

Magnolia Bakery: 

West Village

Hard to remain unbiased with magnolia bakery.

I've been here many times before.

And it's in my favorite neighborhood of all time (New York City, speaking).

It is also sort of one of those notoriously popular NYC destination spot kind of bakeries, so I'm expecting great things.

But I've never had their pie.

Just walking with Jessie (co-conspirator in all things pie panned) down 6th and across Bleecker to get to the bakery puts me in a good mood. 

West Village, why's you gottsta be so fine?

Magnolia is as charming as ever.

Note to self: must invent a cheesecake week so I can have an excuse to try their Chocolate Pudding Oreo Cheesecake. 

Looks amaaazeee.

We go with the Apple Crisp, Berry Crisp, and Chocolate Pudding Pie. 

Editors Note: In case you're keeping track of the many feet pics I've taken in the last three months, yes, I have worn those sandals every day this summer. 

There isn't really anywhere to sit in Magnolia, so we take Pie Week to the streets.

Specifically, the lovely park across the street will do.

Apple crisp

Not warm

Generous amount of crumble.

No, you know what? 

I wouldn't really use the word "crumble" to describe what this is.

Crumble just doesn't really do it justice.

It's more like large boulders than crumble.

I'm thinking more Coliseum size ruins than crumble.

Apples are crunchy- this is good.

Heavy nutmeg and cinnamon- good.

Tastes like thanksgiving.

I want it to be fall.

Yum.

Solid.

A

Chocolate pudding pie

Is this supposed to be freezing? 

Because it is.

First Bite:

Um. Yes. Speechless.

But no. I have plenty to say.

This is amazing.

Everything I want in a pie.

Crust is compact but has dimensions.

Pudding is rich.

But, it's definitely still pudding and not mousse.
I hate when pudding tries to be mousse.
It's not trying to be anything it's not.

I totally appreciate that.

Whipped cream tastes light and fresh.

The ice cream at Bubby's and the Whipped cream at Magnolia could totally date.

A+

Berry crisp
Not served hot.

Crisp is a bit bland.

Ok- this isn't mixed berry.

Just blueberries.

Ugh.

I hate it.

This tastes like gasoline.
I want to spit it out.
But I'm a lady.
So, I just let it sit on my tongue as I let my jaw hang open and I make a whiny noises. 

I hate it.

D+

And ONLY because Jessie talks me down from being unnecessarily cruel and giving them an anger induced F.
Her argument being that it is technically still edible, so it can't qualify for an F. 
True.  

This is a tough grade to give. 

We have two extremes here. 

The cream of the crop in pudding pies and the world's worst blueberry pie ever to exist. 

Ultimately, I love Magnolia, but I think pie may not be their selling point. 

Stick to their cupcakes. 

Or their seemingly delectable cheesecakes. 

Ultimately, my experience was best described as "Nice."

B+

Pie Week: Quick Sabbatical

No, 'Quick Sabbatical' is not the name of uber hip pie shop in Bushwick-- although, I would totally go there if it did exist.

My extremely tight, top-secret, scientifically crafted Pie Week schedule was thrown off last night when I discovered that one of the places on the list is closed for the summer from July 30th-August 6th. Don't they know that is right in the heart of pie week?!? Come on.

That left me with a gap in a schedule and a hole in my heart as I wandered the streets of New York City panhandling for a "slice of the good stuff." But, no luck. I cried myself to sleep last night as I whispered the words "a la mode" in my sleep.

Suffice it to say, it was a rough night for me. But I woke up this morning with the promise of a new day and a fresh chance of finding the pie of our generation.

Pie Week: Buttercup Bake Shop

The following is an exact transcription from note's taken live, on site, during pie consumption:

Buttercup Bake Shop

Midtown East

6 train has a three hour delay

The shop closes in an hour. 

Not enough time to walk.
I guess I'll take a cab.

This might be the worst cabbie I've had all summer.
That's saying a lot.
I hope I live to eat this pie.

Ok.
Here.
Alive.

$11 cab ride.
This pie better be worth it.

Ok. Now, this is a bakery. No fuss. No muss. Just sugar. And frosting.
This place isn't trendy at all which makes it unknowingly super trendy.

They only sell they're pies whole.
It seems I may have to buy a whole pie.
Oh! A Loop hole! A 6 inch pie! wonderful! I mean, still-- a lot of pie-- but who's complaining?

I'm going with the peach pandowdy.
They seal it in a white box.
I guess this means I'm taking it to-go.

Walking out, the girl behind the counter says she likes my hair. 

Does she know there is a competition going on? 

Good move. 

5 points.



Walking home now, it sinks in that I have just allowed myself to buy a whole pie. For the sake of experience. And pie week. A week that I invented that ultimately has no affect on anything.
I feel no Remorse.

Ok. I'm home. Let's crack this baby open.

Crust. Outstanding. Crunchy with a generous dusting of cinnamon sugar on top.

Peach filling is not up to par with last nights peaches. They are cut into little cubes- which doesn't prove anything, but it also implies that they aren't fresh.

Definitely more syrupy. This is a quality I was trying to avoid.

This pie is good. This pie is not great. This is pie that you make after googling "worlds best pie recipe" and trying to make it for the first time. When I close my eyes, I see nothing. I don't see grandma pulling it out of the oven or fireworks or kittens. I see nothing.  Just a pie.

Ultimately, I feel bad for the guys. The bar was set so high by last nights pie, how could this compare?

But let me stress again-- crust: outstanding.

Overall Pie Week Grade: 83%

Update: it's 20 minutes later. I just ate, like, all the crust off the pie.

Pie Week: Bubby's

The following is an exact transcription from note's taken live, on site, during pie consumption:

Bubby's Pies 

TriBeCa

Welcoming atmosphere

Very comfortable

I want to live and die in TriBeCa

Apple pie:

very apple-y... in a good way 

apples not overcooked

still maintain apple-like properties

crust could have been flakier

it seemed over worked, perhaps?

Peach Crumble:

 sweet, but not too sweet

very little peachy syrupy business going on

what I mean is that it's being sweetened by the peaches and not by goop 

could have used more crumble

...then again, can you ever have too much crumble? 

This remains to be seen in the following week. 

Homemade Vanilla Ice Cream: 

amazing

so so so fresh

I feel like I'm drinking cream straight from a cow's utters... in a good way

Pie not served hot

tisk tisk

Overall:
Tastes home made
Showcases the fruit
Overall Pie Week Grade: 94%