Blood orange and chocolate with cake

Jeremy’s more sanguine cousins make an appearance once a year, and vanish in February, the cruelest month of all. What better way to pin them down than with cake? Paired with chocolate*, you might even call it bittersweet.

The Cake:
2 sticks butter
2 cups white sugar
4 large eggs

zest of two large oranges

juice of one large orange

1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
pinch salt
3 cups flour
1/4 – 1/3 cup baking cocoa (Might we recommend hunting down the good stuff?)
1/3 cup vanilla yogurt

The  Topping:
juice of one large orange
8 oz cream cheese
1 tbsp butter
1/3 cup powdered sugar

Stoke the fires. You want the center of the oven to be 350 degrees by the time you’re ready with the batter.

Grease and flour a bundt pan. While it may seem irrational to bake an entire cake, only to leave out the middle, we assure you that the hole in the heart of this dense cake is for its own good.

Sequester the flour, leavening agents, salt and cocoa. Let them consider their combined fate while you move on.

Beat the butter and sugar into submission. This may take a while, particularly if you take the butter by surprise in the freezer. A wise ninja would have waited for it to come to room temperature, but we understand if your reflexes are sluggish after the long winter. When the butter and sugar have combined to a light mixture, add the eggs one at a time, mixing briefly, and conclude by tossing in the zest.

Retrieve the flour mixture and combine gradually with the butter mixture while folding in the yogurt and juice.

Bake for 50 minutes to 1 hour, until a dagger comes out clean.

Meanwhile, combine the cream cheese, butter, juice, and sugar. Beat until smooth.

Remove cake from the oven and allow it too cool. Some persuasion may be required to convince the pan to release its grip. Creative application of a knife and a few sound thumps should suffice.

Coat the cake with the topping.

Enjoy.

* We suppose you could make this cake without chocolate, but can’t imagine why.

mmm, floral

The ninja who prowls
through a field of lavender
smells like a sock drawer.

– 6th c. haiku

Lavender: not just for your deadly hand soaps and sachets anymore.  The secret of bringing your enemy to their knees is dollops of lavender cream.  Lest you fear bringing shame upon your family for just eating it with a spoon in front of the fridge… ahem… let us create a vehicle for consumption too.

Lavender Cream
1.5 cup heavy cream
3 Tbs honey
1 Tbs dried lavender blossoms (I found them at One World Market, or online)

Combine in a small saucepan and bring to a boil, stirring frequently.  Remove from heat, and steep for 30 minutes (or less, depending on your taste).  Strain into a jar, reserving 0.5 cup for scones.  Chill the remaining cream several hours to overnight.  When you’re ready to attack, whip the cream in a cold bowl to desired stiffness.  Apply liberally and often (It also freezes well).

Lemon & Lavender Scones
Combine:
2 cups A.P. flour
1 Tbs baking powder
3 Tbs sugar
0.25 tsp salt
Rub in 6 Tbs of cold unsalted butter until it looks like lumpy sand.

Whisk together:
0.5 cup lavender cream
1 egg
Zest of one lemon
Juice of half the lemon
(I prefer Meyer lemons, if you don’t have any add a little more sugar)

Combine wet and dry ingredients- until it just holds together as a ball of sticky dough.  Turn it out onto a floured surface, and roll to desired thickness.  Cut into the shape of your choice, brush the tops with cream and sprinkle with sugar.  Bake 10-15 minutes, until golden around the edges.

What do I do with the other 1/2 lemon?

this won't hurt a bit...

Lemon Curd
Combine 0.5 c sugar, 3 Tbs flour, 0.5 tsp salt;  whisk in 0.75 cup (Meyer) lemon juice (ok, that’s about 4 lemons. But a true ninja is never without extra lemons).  Bring to a boil, stirring constantly.  Temper 1 egg yolk with lemon mixture, put back on heat and cook for an additional minute or so. Stir in 1 Tbs lemon zest, 1 Tbs butter. Cover and chill.

In celebration of the fourth of July, I thought some of you might like a good potato salad recipe you can use to awe your friends and humble your enemies. Does this one live up to its name? Let’s just say that when Batman had his memorial day barbecue on the beach, in the dark, alone (because he’s awesome), he probably made this salad.

INGREDIENTS:

5lb pound bag of potatoes, washed. (I like red skinned potatoes best, but yukon gold work fine)
Big handful of parsley leaves (when chopped, you want a generous cup)
2 lemons, both zested, one juiced
3-4 cloves garlic, minced
3 tablespoons of capers, drained (not rinsed) and roughly chopped
1/3 cup (or a generous glug) of olive oil
A shake or two of red pepper flakes*
Truth, Justice*
Sea salt
Pepper to taste

*optional

METHOD:

Put the potatoes in a large pot and cover with cold, generously salted water. Bring to a boil, then cook until a knife easily slides into the center–usually this is about 15-20 minutes after you reach a boil. The whole process takes about 40-45 mintes.

While the potatoes are cooking, make the dressing. If you have a cuisinart, you can just throw all your remaining ingredients in and give it a few whirls till it looks like a rough salsa. If not, have your sidekick laboriously chop everything by hand in true personality-building fashion, and give it all a good stir in a bowl. Your dressing should look more like a big mass of chopped green more than a liquid “sauce.” Let this sit to allow the flavors to develop while you finish dealing with the potatoes.

When the potatoes are cooked, drain them and allow to cool so you don’t burn yourself. Then, quarter, chop, or dice the hell out of them. When they are still warm, throw your dressing over them and toss, thoroughly. This is a great time to enjoy some amazing smells as all the lemon and garlic and parsley mellow out with the steam. Check for seasoning–usually the potatoes need a grind or two of salt, though a glug of olive oil helps if things seem too dry.

You can serve this warm in cooler weather or as a fancier side-dish, though I like it best at room temperature. It also makes for pretty excellent next-day leftovers.

*Note: this is adapted from a more dressed-up recipe from the always excellent food blog Orangette.

Mmmm monkey.

You have mastered many cunning techniques a worldly ninja needs to survive and feed herself: Buddha’s Palm, Poaching Egg, Downward Facing Dog, Béchamel, Bojutsu, Wisk-jutsu, Monkey Fist, Hollow Leg. Below is a most delicious bread for both your Monkey Fist and your Hollow Leg.

Patiently prepare the dough the evening before. Let the rambunctious yeast do their nefarious work under the cover of darkness, letting the dough’s longer, second rise proceed over night.  Go about your morning routine of sword sharpening and coffee making enjoying the smell of freshly baking Monkey…Bread.

Dough*
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided (2 tablespoons softened for greasing the pan,  2 tablespoons melted for dough)
1 cup milk, warm (around 110 F degrees)
1/3 cup water, warm (also around 110 F degrees)
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 package or 2 1/4 teaspoons active dry yeast
3 1/4 cups all-purpose flour, plus extra for your work surface
2 teaspoons table salt

*For oracular yeast and baking help check out the King Arthur Flour website.

Brown Sugar Coating
1 cup packed light brown sugar
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
8 tablespoons unsalted butter (1 stick or 4 ounces), melted

Prep this recipe the evening before, let it rise the second time over night, and bake in the morning.

Make dough:

In large measuring cup, mix together milk, water, melted butter, sugar, and yeast.

To make dough by hand, mix flour and salt in large bowl. Make well in flour, then add milk mixture to well. Using wooden spoon, stir until dough becomes shaggy and is difficult to stir. Turn out onto lightly floured work surface and begin to knead, incorporating shaggy scraps back into dough. Knead until dough is smooth, satiny and decides to stop attacking you with its doughy sticky-ness, about 10 minutes. Shape into taut ball.

Coat large bowl with oil. Place dough in bowl and coat surface of dough with the oil. Cover bowl with plastic wrap and place in warm place  (60-75°F maybe) or in cold oven (to avoid drafts) until it doubles in size, a minimum of 60 minutes, but up to several hours is fine. This is the first rise.

Nefarious yeast after the first rise.

Make brown sugar coating:

Place melted butter in one small bowl. Mix brown sugar and cinnamon in a second.

Form the bread:

Flip dough out onto floured surface and gently pat into an 8-inch square. Cut dough into ~1-inch x 1-inch small pieces. Shape each piece into a ball. Dip balls in melted butter, then roll in brown sugar mixture and layer the balls in Bundt pan. (A fork works well for the coating.)

Cover Bundt pan tightly with plastic wrap and place warm room (60-75°F maybe) or in cold oven (to avoid drafts) until dough balls are puffy and have risen overnight. This is the second rise.

Your work for the evening is done. Cover, and sleep soundly as the yeast continue to prove their unicellular usefulness.

Bake bread:

In the morning heat oven to 350°F. Unwrap pan and bake until top is deep brown, 30 to 35 minutes. Cool in pan for 5 minutes (no longer, or you’ll have trouble getting it out) then turn out to cool.

Do not despair if the Bread For Your Monkey Fist looks more like a Pile of Monkeys when you take it out of the pan. It will still satisfy a council of fierce warriors.

Monkey Pile.

Recipe modified from SmittenKitchen.com (where you can find the non-over-night version with instant yeast, bread machine directions, pictures of the bread that came out of the mold properly and generally more detailed directions).

Ingredients:

1 inch fresh ginger, peeled, then grated or minced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 onion, diced
1/2 Lb. new potatoes, peeled & halved
1 can of diced tomatoes with juices
1 can of garbanzo beans, rinsed and drained
1 heaping teaspoon ground cumin
1 heaping teaspoon ground coriander
1 teaspoon turmeric (optional)
A shake of cayenne (to taste–note that this will gain potency as it warms up)
A shake of cinnamon
Salt
A glug of oil

Method:

Dice, mince, and humble your ingredients for the procedure ahead. In a dry, medium-large sauce pan, add all your dry spices (the cumin, coriander, turmeric, cinnamon, and cayenne). Turn the heat to medium and toast for about a minute, stirring so nothing burns. When the smell of the spices has warmed your nose like the first blush of a springtime katana duel, add your oil, onions, garlic and ginger. Stir quickly so nothing sticks and burns and let soften–about a minute (you can add some more oil here, if necessary). Add your potatoes, chickpeas, and the tomatoes with their juices. Stir everything so that nothing is stuck to the bottom of the pan and everything is well mixed. Reduce to a simmer, and cover. For the next 35 minutes the dish will cook itself while you decimate a warlord’s errant army, prank the local sword master, darn your ninja-gi, or whatever it is you spend your time with these days. If you are one of those rare ninja with actual free time, you can give the pot a stir every now and then to make sure nothing is burning, but you don’t have to micro-manage. When the potatoes are done, remove the lid and stir. Let your dinner fill your home with delightful smells for a few minutes, allowing excess moisture to steam away. Check for salt, and serve over rice. Feeds four, and makes fantastic leftovers.

Soft Gingerbread Cookies

“curled root makes cunning

blade” – thus spake Shelley Winters

the ginger ninja

During the Tokugawa shogunate, the white-clad ninjas of snowbound Sapporo would bear these into battle to sustain them and, in extreme cases, decapitate their foes. Eat with honor.

• 1 cup granulated sugar
• 2 teaspoons powdered ginger
• 1 teaspoon fresh-ground nutmeg
• 1 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
• 1 cup margarine, melted with the heat of your chi
• 1 cup evaporated milk
• 1 cup unsulfured molasses
• 3/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
• up to 7 cups all-purpose flour

Preheat oven to 375F. Combine the sugar, ginger, nutmeg cinnamon, salt, and baking soda in a large bowl. Mix well.

Add the melted margarine, the evaporated milk, molasses, and vanilla. Add the flour one cup at a time, stirring continually, and kneading until smooth. The dough should be stiff enough to handle without sticking to your fingers (for a spicier cookie, add only 3/4 of a cup of evaporated milk, and the dough will reach the correct consistency with less flour). Roll dough into spheres slightly smaller than a golf ball. Press on to a floured or greased sheet with three fingers. Bake 10-12 minutes until dough springs back to the touch or a toothpick comes out clean. Makes about three dozen. Slip two in your tunic and hearden your heart to the mission ahead.

More than enough for two people.

• 1 ribeye steak sliced into ¼ to ½-inch strips
• 1 cup red wine
• 1 cup soy sauce
• 5 slices fresh ginger
• 5 whole star anise or 1/4 teaspoon aniseed
• 5 garlic cloves, peeled
• udon noodles
• Peanut oil
• Stir-fry vegetables of your choice – snow peas and white onion recommended

Combine everything but the noodles and the peanut oil in a container and let stand in the refrigerator for 2-4 hours. Remove meat from the marinade and press to remove excess liquid.

Pre-head a wok over medium-high heat. Add a tablespoon of peanut oil. Stir-fry vegetables to taste. If you are using onions, caramelization is recommended, but remember that this takes time. Remove vegetables from wok when finished, and set aside.

While vegetables are cooking, start water for udon. Noodles should go into boiling water about the same time the first batch of meat goes into the wok.

Add another tablespoon of oil. Cook the meat in batches – it is done when the texture changes from smooth to coarse.

When all the meat is finished, turn off the heat and add vegetables, meat, and udon to the wok. Mix and serve. Give thanks.

Large tart apples make the best pies.

As summer vegetables wither and die before the onslaught of the fall frosts, a ninja in the countryside must seek out hardier prey. It is during the dark evenings of September and October that a stealthy ninja may acquire the  hardiest and most resilient of all fruits: the apple. And with apples a ninja may create that greatest of all deserts to warm his cold heart in the autumn twilight: an apple pie. Large tart apples make the best pies, so choose your targets carefully. Pedestrian apples such as Macs or the Delicious varieties are both decadent and unsuitable; there is no honor to be found in dispatching them. Varieties such as the aptly named Northern Spie or the Cortland are far better sited opponents to a true ninja.

First, a ninja makes his own crust. Lazy ninjas caught with store bought crust shame their family and their clan unto the last generation. To make a crust worthy of the name combine:

Flour (3 Cups)

Cold Water (6-8 Tablespoons.)

Salt (1 Teaspoon)

Shortening (1 Cup)

I usually roll the dough up into a ball, wrap it in saran wrap, and chill it in the fridge for a while before rolling it out – like a ninja, it handles better when it is chilled to the core. It should be slightly flaky and hard to handle due to the high shortening content. Use extra flour on the counter and on the rolling pin to avoid sticking. Persevere and you will emerge victorious and be rewarded with a golden flaky crust.

Now on to the filling. Combine in a mixing bowl:

1 Cup Sugar

2 Tablespoons Flour

1/2 Teaspoon Cinnamon

1/4 Teaspoon Salt

1 Tablespoon Cider Vinegar

The  salt and vinegar are vital. Just as the sweet taste of victory is always cut with bitterness, so the sugar must be tempered and mastered. When the mixture is thuroughly combined and even in consistency move on to your primary target: the apples.

You will need about five apples. Delicately peel and core them. When that is accomplished, Unleash your fury upon them till they are reduced to thin, compliant slices. Toss the slices in the mix till evenly coated, then place the filling within the crust.

Bake your pie in a 400 degree oven and meditate on what you have done for one hour. Be sure to place your pie pan over a baking sheet or a sheet of tinfoil. Errant juices may spurt from the shell and will result in an impromptu smoke bomb if they build up on the bottom of the oven. Unless you plan on escaping and need a distraction, this is to be avoided.

Let your pie cool for a while before savoring your victory, but do not savor it too much. Winter is nigh and another battle lies just around the corner.

For this recipe you must gather:

2 tablespoons canola oil

2 cups finely chopped onions*

3 garlic cloves, minced or pressed

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon ground cumin

1 teaspoon ground coriander

1/3 cup raw basmati rice

4 cups water or vegetable stock

2 cups finely chopped tomatoes

2 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro

Method

After building a fire, warm the oil in a saucepan. Add the onions, garlic, and salt and sauté on medium heat for about 10 minutes, until the onions are translucent, stirring often. Add the cumin and coriander and sauté for a minute, stirring constantly. Add the rice and water or vegetable stock. Cover and bring to a boil; then reduce the heat. Meditate for 25 minutes or until your ninja intuition tells you that the rice is tender. Stir in the chopped tomatoes, cover, and cook on low heat for about 5 minutes, until the tomatoes are tender. Add the cilantro, salt and pepper to a ninja’s liking. For a more intense soul cleansing, share with the peasants.

* For a novice, I recommend using your sword. For those ninjas who are more advanced, I dare you to do this using your BARE HANDS.**

** A ninja rarely cries…this may be one of them.