Real men will eat this

It's only the start of my second week of the term at Washburne Culinary Institute. But I can already tell that Monday's are going to be loooong days.

We will never set foot in the kitchen. Instead, we'll have more than five hours of lecture. First, about the history of baking and pastry. Then, in the afternoon, it's about food safety and sanitation.

Even the chef admits that's it's not exactly scintillating stuff. Today, for example, we started in the Neolithic Period with the very early humans who figured out how to make sprouted grain porridge, dry it out near their newest invention -- FIRE! -- and make the very first "bread."

That part was actually pretty fascinating.

But then we moved on to sanitation and there was lots of talk about "bloody diarrhea" (sorry) and how our food had the potential to kill people and my eyes kind of started to glaze over. (Sorry again -- especially to the chef, if she's reading this.)

Maybe I was just hungry.

I was daydreaming about this quiche, which I made yesterday with plenty of fresh corn from Angelic Organics, along with some cute little bell peppers and jalapenos from the CSA box. Sure, it's made with heavy cream and eggs and a stick of butter ... but it's packed with veggies (bacon's a veggie, right?) so it must be healthy, right?

OK. Maybe not.

But it's sure to perk you up after a long day. Or give you plenty of energy in the morning to get ready for such a day.

Spiced-Up Roasted Corn and Bacon Quiche

Adapted from "King Arthur Flour Whole Grain Baking"

One quiche, serves 6-8

Crust

2/3 cup old-fashioned rolled oats

3/4 cup unbleached all-purpose flour

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup cold unsalted butter, cut into small cubes

3 to 5 tablespoons ice water

Filling

4 ears fresh corn, peeled and husked

4 sliced bacon

1 1/2 cups diced sweet onion

1 medium bell pepper, diced

1-2 jalapeno peppers, diced

3 large eggs

1 1/2 cups half and half

1 cup sliced scallions, white and green parts

1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika

Salt and pepper, to taste

To prepare the crust: Grind the oats in a food processor until fine, about 30 seconds. Add in the flour and salt. Pulse a couple of times until mixed. Add the butter and pulse until dough is unevenly crumbly. Sprinkle in (or drizzle through feed tube) one tablespoon of water at a time, until the dough is cohesive. To test, grab a handful of dough and see if it holds together easily. Dump the dough out onto plastic wrap. Form it into a 1-inch thick disk and wrap it. Refrigerate at least 30 minutes or up to 3 days.

If stored longer than 30 minutes, remove disk from refrigerator 30 minutes before assembling quiche, to take off the chill.

Flour your work surface. Roll dough into a 12-inch circle. Place in a regular 9-inch pie pan. Trim and crimp the edges. Store crust in refrigerator while preparing the filling.

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Heat a large, dry, nonstick skillet over high heat for several minutes. Place ears of corn in skillet and roast, turning every five minutes or so, until nicely charred in places. Remove corn from heat and cool.

Turn down skillet to medium. Put in bacon and cook, turning occasionally, until crisp. Place on a paper-towel-lined plate to drain. Crumble when cool.

Drain off all but a couple tablespoons of bacon fat (or leave it all in there if you're feeling frisky) and add in diced onion, bell pepper and jalapeno. Cook until soft, about 5 to 7 minutes. Remove pan from heat and set aside to cool.

Using a sharp knife, cut the corn kernels off the cobs and place in a large bowl. Add the cooled onion mixture and the chopped scallions.

Whisk together the eggs, half-and-half, salt and pepper and smoked paprika. Pour over the vegetables and stir well.

Pour the filling into the prepared crust. If there's any left over, pour it into ramekins that have been treated with cooking spray.

Bake the quiche for 35-40 minutes (possibly longer), covering the crust with a pie shield or foil if it starts to burn. When the quiche is done, the center won't wobble when you jiggle the pan and a knife inserted one inch from the edge will come out wet but clean. Remove the quiche from the oven and let cool at least 30 minutes before serving.

Running around like lettuce with its head cut off

Holy smokes. Where has this week gone?

Oh, yeah, I returned to culinary school for the fall term. I'm still working on this cookbook, reporting and writing some freelance articles and logging a bunch of miles to train for the Chicago Marathon. Guess my new schedule has thrown me a little off around here.

I think I'm a couple of breads behind in the Bread Baker's Apprentice Challenge. And, here I am getting a new CSA box tomorrow, and I never told you what I got in last week's box or what I did with it.

Sorry 'bout that.

Anyway, it was another lovely box:

Our 10th box included:

-- Loads of beautiful corn

-- Cucumbers

-- Eggplant

-- Tons of tomatoes

-- Bell peppers

-- Toscano kale

-- Anise

-- Lettuce

-- Choi

-- Celery

-- Sweet onion

And:

A watermelon. Which turned out to be yellow-fleshed and super-duper sweet.

So much of this produce was so beautiful, I've been doing very little with it. Roast some corn, grill some sausages, slice some watermelon. Make a salad. That's about it.

But I did make a nice big batch of panzanella (Italian bread salad) with several of those amazing tomatoes. The great thing about panzanella is that it's infinitely customizable. Use whatever bread you've got around. Toss in some meat, if you like (I added some cooked sausage). Add some cheese. Add whatever vegetables you have around. One thing you do need, though, is really great, ripe tomatoes.

Here's a nice, basic recipe from Mark Bittman's "How to Cook Everything" to use as a launch pad for panzanella inspiration. Even a frantic, harried cook can make it.

Trust me.

Panzanella

From "How to Cook Everything" by Mark Bittman

Serves 4

4 medium, perfectly ripe tomatoes, cored and peeled (A certain busy cook might've skipped this peeling step and the salad might've turned out just fine. It wasn't me, of course. Just a cook I know.)

About 1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more if needed

1 clove garlic, peeled

8 thick slices good bread, preferably a couple of days old

1 teaspoon fresh oregano, marjoram or thyme or 1/4 cup minced fresh basil or parsley

1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil

1 tablespoon balsamic or other good vinegar

Use your fingers to remove the liquid centers and seeds from the tomatoes; place in a strainer over a bowl and add the meat of the tomatoes. Sprinkle the tomatoes with about 1/2 teaspoon of salt and set aside while you prepare the bread. Stir occasionally.

Preheat the broiler. Cut the garlic clove in half and rub the bread all over with it. Toast the bread under the broiler, taking care not to burn it. When it is nicely browned and crisp throughout, cool it for a minute, then tear it into bite-sized pieces. Place it in a bowl with the juices that drained out of the tomatoes.

Discard the tomato seeds and chop the meat into smaller pieces. When the bread has softened a bit, add the tomatoes, herb, oil, vinegar and some black pepper. Taste and adjust seasoning as necessary, serve immediately.

Fetch me my walker

Culinary school, Day Four. Our first "real" day in the kitchen and it went pretty great. And by "pretty great" I mean: I didn't cut myself, burn myself, burn my bread, or cut or burn anyone or anything else.

I consider that a success.

We met our partners and set to work making our first bread -- focaccia. (I know, I know. I'm supposed to be making focaccia from "The Bread Baker's Apprentice" Challenge. I'll get to that one soon ... I promise.)

So, my new partner just graduated from high school. And I'm all like, "Ha, ha, I suppose I'm old enough to be your mother."

And she's all, "How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?"

And I'm all, "34." (Secretly thinking, ha, you might think I'm an old lady but I'm really quite young.)

And she's all, "Yep. That's how old my mom is."

And that's when my head popped off, rolled under the deck oven and asked the chef instructor for a shot of vodka.

Sooo, any-hoo, where was I?

Ah, yes, focaccia.

After our chef's suggestion yesterday, I brought in some red grapes from home to top this lovely, spongy and very easy focaccia bread.

It's a good thing I snapped a couple of pictures when I did. Even though everybody in class made focaccia, this one got gobbled up pretty quick.

Not bad for an old lady.

(There's an infinite number of fillings and toppings for this bread -- meat, cheese, veggies, you name it. This would've been even better, I think, with caramelized onion. The dough would also make a great pizza crust.)

Focaccia with Red Grape, Onion and Basil

From Chef Laura Vaughn, Washburne Culinary Institute, adapted from Prentice-Hall, Inc. 2005

Makes 1 half sheet pan

1 tablespoon sugar

1 tablespoon active-dry yeast

12 ounces lukewarm water

17 ounces all-purpose flour

1 1/2 teaspoons Kosher salt, plus more for sprinkling on top

3 ounces onion, chopped very fine

3 tablespoons olive oil

2 tablespoons fresh basil, sliced into thin ribbons

1 cup red grapes, sliced in half

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

In a large bowl bowl, stir together sugar, yeast and warm water. Let sit a few minutes 'til bubbly and add the flour.

Add the salt, onion and basil. Knead on a lightly floured surface until smooth, about five minutes. Resist the urge to add more flour. The dough will be sticky and you may need a bench scraper to knead it.

Wipe out the large bowl and spray with cooking spray or smear with oil. Put dough in the container and swirl around so it's covered with oil. Cover with plastic wrap. Place in a warm area to rise until doubled. (This will likely take about 40 minutes to one hour, depending on the temperature of your room.)

Spray a half-sheet pan (or 13X9-inch pan) with cooking spray. Line with parchment. Drizzle 1 tablespoon of oil onto the parchment.

Gently turn the dough out onto a floured work surface. Grasping the sides of the dough, fold the left, then the right side, to the center. Then fold the top and the bottom to the center. Flip the dough over. Cover and let rest 15 minutes.

Put the dough in the prepared pan and spread it so it fills the entire surface. (Let the dough rest a few minutes if it resists shaping. Let the dough rest in a warm place for about 10 minutes, until puffy.

Using oiled fingers, make indentations throughout the dough. Drizzle with a few more tablespoons of olive oil.

Press sliced grapes firmly into the dough. Sprinkle with Kosher salt and let dough rise about 8 minutes longer, or until it puffs around the grapes, holding them in place.

Bake until light golden brown, about 20 minutes.

Cool a bit before slicing.

Good things on the horizon

Day 2 of culinary school, still no baking going on.

But at least there's the promise of baking!

We went over the syllabus for the Baking Techniques course (which meets Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday) and it looks awesome. Pretty much bread, bread and more bread. Every type of bread you can imagine -- lean dough, enriched dough, laminated dough (that means baguettes, brioche and puff pastry, just to name a few).

I can hardly wait to get started.

We did spend some time in the kitchen today, though. But instead of baking anything, we gave it a good scrub down. The kitchen was already pretty clean; the exercise was mostly to familiarize the class (most of whom are new to Washburne Culinary) with our work space. My few fellow returning students and I got to "delegate," aka tell the newbies what to do. So, that was fun. But I did my fair share of scrubbing, too.

I'm hoping we'll get to make some focaccia tomorrow. I'll keep you posted.

Speaking of that, I see that I've crossed the threshold of my 100th post here on Flour Girl. Thanks so much to all of you regular readers. Sorry for the lack of fanfare.

In lieu of fanfare, I'll give you a muffin recipe.

These are good.

Make them.

Raspberry Surprise-Inside Muffins

Adapted from Lori's Best-Ever Muffins recipe on allrecipes.com

Makes 12 muffins

2 cups all-purpose flour

3 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoons salt

3/4 cup white sugar, plus more for fruit and sprinkling

1 egg

1 cup milk (or combination of milk and yogurt)

1/4 cup vegetable oil

1 cup raspberries, coarsely chopped and tossed with 1 tablespoon sugar and 1 tablespoon flour

12 teaspoons jam of your choice

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Stir together the flour, baking powder, salt and sugar in a large bowl. Make a well in the center. In a small bowl, beat the egg with a fork. Stir in milk and oil. Pour all at once into the well in the flour mixture. Mix quickly and lightly with a fork just until moistened. DO NOT OVERBEAT. Gently fold in the raspberries.

Spray a 12-cup muffin tin with non-stick spray.

Fill each cup 1/3 of the way with batter. Top each with 1 teaspoon of jam. Top another 1/3 of the way with batter. Sprinkle with sugar (turbinado, if you've got it.)

Bake for 25 minutes, or until golden.

Cool for 5 minutes in the pan before removing to a wire rack.

Buh-bye, Tasha Granberry ...

You may recall when I took my first class at Washburne Culinary Institute this spring, there wasn't time to order a chef's coat with my name on it. So, for six weeks or so, I was Tasha Granberry.

Not anymore.

After my first day of class today, I picked up my new, crisp pack of chef's coats with my very own name on them. (That's my married name, by the way.) I feel so official. And I got crisp, new black-and-white checked pants! And new aprons! It's like Christmas!

Today marks the first day of the semester, the beginning of Phase One for me and my two dozen baking and pastry classmates. We spent the day in the lecture room, going over the syllabus and the rules. (No jewelry, no perfume, scruffy beards, no long nails, no lateness, no baggy pants, no wrinkled uniforms, no cell phones, no swearing.)

Monday will be a lecture day for the rest of the semester, with introduction to baking in the morning, followed by sanitation. I'll be sure to get some extra caffeine on those mornings.

We'll spend the rest of the week in the kitchen, though, starting tomorrow.

Unfortunately, we'll be spending tomorrow cleaning our kitchen, as a kind of getting-acquainted task.

Wonder if that absolves me from cleaning the kitchen here at home?

I think it should.

And she's off ...

Yep. I've got the black-and-white-checked polyester work pants back on again, folks. And I'm headed down to the South Side for the first day of the semester at Washburne Culinary Institute.

When I took a class there this spring, I was just jumping in mid-term. But now I'm starting out in the beginning of the program, one that will take me about two years to complete.

I'll be getting my sanitation certification this semester and will begin learning the basics of baking and pastry (here's hoping I already know a few of them ...). As for what else I'll learn, who knows?

But I know this: I'll be talking all of you along for the ride.

Check back later today for my first-day report.

My strange day with Rachael Ray

Rachael Ray came to Chicago yesterday and threw a made-for-TV block party outside Wrigley Field.

You can read what I wrote about the craziness here at Time Out Chicago. But let me just tell you: It was a hoot.

And for all of you Rachael Ray haters out there, let me also tell you this: The woman is pretty gracious. She stopped for photos with everyone who asked. She signed books and anything else. She hugged babies. She seemed like a genuinely decent human being -- even when the cameras weren't rolling.

There was Chicago's own Jenny McCarthy, admitting that she lived here for 20 years but never rode the El.

There was Jillian Michaels, the oh-so-tough-and-buff trainer from NBC's "Biggest Loser." She got in that bouncy house with Rachael. Seriously.

And there were a couple of "Biggest Losers," too, including winner Ali Vincent. (Hint: Don't stand next to a "Biggest Loser" if you want to look skinny.)

And this "Biggest Loser" contestant whose name I can't recall.

I'm guessing you know the future contestant on the right, though.

Did I mention Cookie Monster was there?

Yep. Quite a block party.

All revved up with no place to go

Ah, Meatloaf.

Growing up, one of the few albums played by my oh-so-hip parents was Meatloaf's "Bat out of Hell."

I can't even tell you how many rotations that one made on the turntable. (That and the Village People's "Y.M.C.A." Oh, to grow up in the late '70s. This should help explain some things about me.)

It is, sadly, seared into my psyche and I think Meatloaf has been eating away at my brain for the past three decades.

And not in a good way.

Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes, meatloaf. With a lower-case "m."

Maybe your parents tormented you with meatloaf the way mine tormented me with Meatloaf. Both tend to leave a bad aftertaste.

But not the one below.

If you're not a meatloaf fan, this will turn you into one. As for Meatloaf, I make no promises.

Since I like to plan ahead, I started thinking about meatloaf sandwiches. Which meant I needed some good bread. Which meant another visit to the King Arthur Flour Site. I found this great Oatmeal Bread there. The bread's sweetness is a perfect backdrop for the heat of this meatloaf. And you can use a few slices in preparing the meatloaf, too.

P.S. To make it easier on you dear readers (I'm talking about you, Mom and Baubie), I'm ditching the "blogspot" part of this blog's address. You can now get to Flour Girl at flourgrrrl.com. Best to save the finger strength for kneading bread dough, right? Please update your bookmarks.

Bacon-Stuffed Chipotle Meatloaf

Serves 8

3 slices of bread, torn into small bits (I used some of the Oatmeal Loaf, which gives this a nice sweetness)

1/2 cup milk

2 pounds ground meat (I prefer one pound of fattier meat mixed with one pound of leaner meat. I used 80/20 hamburger and 96/4 hamburger. You could use ground pork, veal or turkey.)

1/2 onion, grated

2 garlic cloves, grated

1/3 cup ketchup, plus 1/4 more for brushing on top of loaves

1 egg

3 or more canned chipotle chiles in adobo, plus 1 tablespoon or so of sauce (to taste)

3 slices of bacon, preferably maple

Salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

In a small bowl, combine the torn bread and milk. Let sit, stirring occasionally, while you prepare the rest.

In a large bowl, add the ground meat, grated onion and garlic, ketchup, egg, chipotles and sauce, and salt and pepper. Add in the soaked bread.

Gently mix with your hands until everything is incorporated. Do not overmix or you'll get dense loaves.

Leave the mixture in the bowl but level it so it's flat and even. With your finger, score it into four even pieces.

On a baking sheet, or broiling rack set over a pan, form two of the section into flat loaves, about eight inches long, 4 inches wide and 1 inch thick.

Cut the three slices of bacon in half and lay three of these short halves over each of the loaves.

Take the remaining two portions of meatloaf and pat each on into the same shape as the bottom loaf. Place on top of the bacon, pressing gently to seal. (You're basically making a bacon sandwich, with meatloaf as the bread. How good/deadly does that sound?)

Place the pan in the preheated oven and bake for 20 minutes. Remove from oven and brush with reserved ketchup. Return loaves to oven and bake for another 20-25 minutes, or until the loaves reach 160 degrees inside.

Tent with foil and let rest at least 10 minutes before serving.

Even better, make these in advance and cool in the refrigerator. Just before serving, heat a dry, nonstick pan over medium-high heat. Heat thick slabs of meatloaf in the pan until nicely charred and cooked through.

The second loaf can be wrapped and frozen.

Or nibbled on for a bed-time snack.

Like sand through an hourglass

Saturday's CSA box, our ninth so far, made me kind of sad.

It was so bursting with summer's bounty, it reminded me that all of this will be over soon, replaced by things like School Closures and Wind Chill Advisories.

I mean, just check this out:

-- Corn

-- Tomatoes

-- Green pepper

-- Cucumbers

-- Eggplant

-- Zucchini

-- Cilantro

-- Dill

-- Fennel

-- Sweet onion

-- Lettuce

-- Swiss chard

And even:

-- Cantaloupe

See?

It's enough to make a grown woman weep.

But I got past that. Quickly.

So, I made a big salad with cucumbers, tomatoes, black olives and feta, dressed with just a little balsamic and olive oil.

And I put a big chunk of the cantaloupe in my green smoothie this morning.

I sliced several of those red beauties, brushed them with olive oil, sprinkled them with salt and pepper and put them in a 250-degree oven for about three hours. I ended up with this "tomato candy" that's pretty hard to resist:

I piled several slices on a sandwich and ate many more right off the plate. These super-concentrated tomato jewels would be wonderful with pasta, though. Ooh, or paired with creamy goat cheese on top of a pizza. Or mixed with scrambled eggs. Or pretty much on top of anything you can imagine.

There aren't too many restaurant dishes I miss from my days in the Inland Northwest (sorry, Spokane). But I did love this great placed called Moontime in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho. They made the best veggie burger I've ever had, their gumbo could knock your socks off, and pretty much everything was served with this awesome roasted corn pasta salad.

Now, I don't even usually like mayo-based salads. But this one, with its sweet, nutty corn; pungent red onions; and chipotle kick was unlike any I'd ever had.

And the good guys at Moontime are kind enough to post the recipe on their site.

I've made their version several times before and it's as good as I remember from the restaurant. This time, though, I decided to mix things up just a tiny bit. Remember that Elote, the Mexican corn, from last week?

Well, I turned it into pasta salad.

And it rocks.

A scoop of this is sure to fend off any melancholy. I'll try to remember this in January.

P.S. To make it easier on you dear readers (I'm talking about you, Mom and Baubie), I'm ditching the "blogspot" part of this blog's address. You can now get to Flour Girl at flourgrrrl.com. Best to save the finger strength for kneading bread dough, right?

Mexican Corn Pasta Salad

Adapted from Moontime restaurant, Coeur d'Alene, Idaho

Serves 4

1 1/2 cups corn kernels, cut from about three ears of corn (or from frozen)

1/2 red onion, diced (I used sweet onion, but red's really better)

1 tablespoon butter

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 1/2 cups dried fusilli or elbow noodles

1 cup mayonnaise (it's easy to make your own)

2-3 canned chipotle peppers in adobo, finely chopped

juice of 1/2 lime

1/3 cup grated Parmesan cheese

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Place corn and onion on baking sheet. Dot with butter and drizzle with oil. Roast about 20 minutes, stirring several times, until vegetables are nicely browned. Let cool.

Cook pasta according to package directions, drain and rinse with cold water.

Combine mayonnaise with chopped chipotles.

Put pasta in a large bowl, add in roasted vegetables and the mayonnaise mixture. Stir well. Sprinkle with lime juice and top with grated Parmesan.

Cheerio! Have a muffin

Before I started baking, I used to classify English muffins up there with pita bread.

There must, I thought, be some sort of unknowable magic involved in making them.

Turns out, there's not.

It's just bread. Who knew?

English muffins are next up in "The Bread Baker's Apprentice" Challenge, and I was happy for a break from fruit-and-nut-studded loaves.

I made English muffins once before, using a different recipe that called for sourdough starter.

I loved those flavorful, nook-and-cranny-filled muffins and I had high hopes for Peter Reinhart's version.

So, you start out by making a pretty basic dough, enriched with a little shortening or butter. Reinhart's recipe only makes six muffins. So, I decided to do two batches: One an all-white dough for the muffins, another mixed with a few ounce of whole-wheat flour for English Muffin Bread.

After bulk fermentation, you shape the muffins into balls (or the loaf into a loaf) and let them rise again.

The muffins are then cooked on a griddle, on both sides, before being finished in the oven.

And the end result is this baby, positively crying out for a big, ol' pat of butter:

These are good, don't get me wrong. But I wasn't floored by them as I have been some of Reinhart's recipes. I didn't get those great nooks and crannies I'd hoped for. Maybe my dough should've been wetter? I also found the muffins to be a bit bland (though a smear of PB&J or a mound of fresh tomatoes made up for that.) Next time, I might try an overnight fermentation in the fridge to develop more flavor. Or, I might add some sourdough to the mix.

How 'bout you, BBA bakers: What'd you think of these muffins?

Never look a dust bunny in the eye

A wonderful friend from Spokane sent me an instant message two days ago.

She had scored a last-minute flight to Chicago and would be at my house in, oh, just slightly less than 24 hours.

Visions of great neighborhoods to explore with her popped into my head. I thought of the new roof-top bar we had to check out. The Mexican place I'd been wanting to try for dinner.

And then I thought of:

The mountain of dishes in my sink.

The overflow of The Kid's toys into the guest room.

The growing battalion of dust bunnies in every nook and cranny.

So, I decided to bake some cookies. And hope that she wouldn't notice my messy house.

I think it might have worked.

This recipe, from the latest issue of Everyday Food, caught my eye. I had all of the ingredients on hand, including plenty of zucchini from the CSA box.

These are nice little no-too-sweet cookies, perfect with a cup of coffee or tea. Next time, I might drizzle them with some lemon glaze or something for a little extra oomph.

And if you drop a few crumbs on the floor, no worries. Nobody will notice.

At least that's what I'm hoping.

Lemon-Zucchini Cornmeal Cookies

Makes 25 cookies

From Everyday Food

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, at room temperature

1 cup confectioners' sugar

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 teaspoon finely grated lemon zest

1 teaspoon coarse salt

1 cup all-purpose flour

1/2 cup fine cornmeal

1 medium zucchini, grated on small holes of a box grater (about 1 cup)

Preheat oven to 325 degrees.

In a large bowl, mix butter and sugar with a wooden spoon until pale and fluffy. Stir in vanilla, lemon zest and salt. Add flour and cornmeal and mix until mixture is crumbly. Add zucchini and stir until a thick dough forms.

Drop by rounded tablespoons, 2 inches apart, onto two parchment-lined baking sheets. (To truly get 25 cookies out of this recipe, you'll want to do rounded teaspoons.) Bake until cookies are light golden brown at edges, 25 to 30 minutes, rotating sheets halfway through. Let cool completely on wire racks.

Bread only a mother could love?

Like several other bakers doing the Bread Baker's Apprentice Challenge, I was less-than-celebratory about making this week's Cranberry-Walnut Celebration Bread.

We've been baking an awful lot of sweet breads. My bread-eating kid doesn't like nuts. Plus, this seemed awfully similar to one of the earlier loaves, Artos: Greek Celebration Bread (a sweetened, spiced bread packed with dried fruits and nuts.) And it was just a few weeks ago that we made Cinnamon-Raisin Bread.

I can't lie.

All of those things are still true.

Plus, there's this:

This bread (at least my rendition of it) just isn't very pretty, either.

Author Peter Reinhart recommends forming this loaf into a two-tiered braid. Since I planned to give one of these loaves away, I opted to make one three-strand braid and another boule. But the braid was so lumpy from all of the fruit and nuts, I just wasn't very happy with it.

See?

But, you know what? This bread is plenty tasty. It makes a fine breakfast, smeared with a little butter or peanut butter. And anybody who hasn't been up-to-their-eyeballs in sweet, fruit-flecked doughs would probably be delighted to have a loaf. Plus, this would be stunning in a few months, on a Thanksgiving table.

It makes me all the more excited, though, for next week's challenge: English Muffins.

Allow me to be corny

I think it's finally summer here in Chicago.

Wanna know how I know?

Here's what appeared in my eighth Angelic Organics CSA box:

-- Cucumbers

-- Zucchini

-- Summer squash

-- Cute little eggplant -- purple and white

-- Carrots

-- Collard greens

-- Basil

-- Thyme

-- Carrots

-- Asian Sun Jewel Melon

-- Green bell pepper

-- Lettuce

and ...

-- Tomatoes, beautiful bright-red tomatoes!

and ...

-- CORN

-- CORN

and ...

-- CORN

I believe we got eight ears. But I ate the first couple so quickly, there could've been more. It's hard to beat just-picked sweet corn.

As a kid, I remember my mom would boil corn to within an inch of its life (sorry, mom!). But, with corn this good, you hardly need to cook it. I stuck a couple of ears on a hot grill pan 'til charred just a bit. Delightful.

But, if you really want to get fancy with your corn on the cob, might I suggest Elote? It's simply grilled (or roasted) corn, Mexican-style.

After grilling your corn, take some mayo (about 1/4 cup for four ears) and mix it with the juice of 1/2 lime, 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika or chile powder (or red pepper if you like it spicy) and salt to taste. Using a brush, smear this mixture all over the corn. Then, roll the corn in crumbed white Mexican cheese. (If you don't have cotija anejo, Parmesan works just fine.)

Serve with sliced lime.

Divine.

Speaking of that mayonnaise, I realized before making my Elote that the jar in my fridge was a bit past its prime. So, I made my own. No, really. And if you've got a food processor, it couldn't be easier.

Basic Mayonnaise

Makes 1 cup

From "How to Cook Everything"

1 egg or egg yolk

Dash cayenne

1/2 teaspoon dry mustard

Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice

1 cup extra-virgin olive oil or canola or other neutral oil, or a combination, or more if needed

Combine the egg, cayenne, mustard, salt, pepper, lemon juice and 1/4 cup of the oil in the container of a blender or food processor. Turn the machine on and, with the machine running, add the oil in a thin, steady stream.

After you've added about half of the oil, the mixture will thicken and you can start adding the oil a bit faster.

Check the seasoning and store in the refrigerator for up to a week.

On Twitter yesterday, Jennifer Perillo of In Jennie's Kitchen said she had all the ingredients for ratatouille. Turns out, I did, too. I'd never made ratatouille before. Guess I thought it was something really fancy. It's got a French name, after all.

But, you know what? It's pretty much just roasted summer veggies. And it's wonderful.

I served mine over some quick Harvest Grain Blend from Trader Joe's, along with a sprinkle of feta and a dollop of leftover hummus.

Oven-Baked Ratatouille

Serves 6 to 8

From "America's Test Kitchen: Cover & Bake"

1 medium eggplant (about 1 pound), peeled and cut into 3/4-inch cubes (I had two little eggplants -- one white, one purple. Didn't bother peeling.)

1 medium red onion, halved and sliced 1/4-inch thick (Didn't have any onion -- added some green and red pepper.)

2 medium zucchini or summer squash, cut into 1/2-inch cubes

1 (28-ounce) can diced tomatoes, drained and 1/3 cup juice reserved (I used a couple of beautiful CSA tomatoes, chopped.)

5 medium garlic cloves, sliced thin

1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil

1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves

1 teaspoon salt

1/8 teaspoon ground black pepper

1 1/2 tablespoons red wine vinegar (I used balsamic.)

1/4 cup pine nuts, toasted in a small dry skillet over medium heat (I skipped this.)

Adjust an oven rack to the middle position and heat the oven to 375 degrees. Combine the eggplant, onion, zucchini, tomatoes and reserved juice, garlic, olive oil, thyme, salt and pepper in a large bowl and mix well. Transfer to a 9- by 13-inch baking dish. Roast until the vegetables have softened and browned in spots, about 1 hour, stirring halfway through cooking time.

Stir vinegar into the vegetable and sprinkle pine nuts over the top. Serve hot or cooled to room temperature.

Magic carpet ride

Back when I lived in Spokane, I attended many wonderful cooking-class dinner parties hosted by the Apple Charlotte Cooking Company. (In reality, they were hosted by this delightful, funny, smart, supremely talented chef and master bread baker named Char.)

Some people in the classes would dive right in, chopping and stirring and measuring. Me, I preferred to embrace the "dinner party" aspect, tasting and chatting and drinking. The one time I dove in to dice an onion or something, I instead sliced my index finger and scurried, embarrassed, to the washroom for triage.

Best to stick with the Sauvignon Blanc.

Anyway, minor injuries aside, these cooking-class dinner parties (and the friends with whom I attended them) are one of the things I miss most about Spokane.

Often the classes would focus on the cuisine of a particular country or region. We made a memorable Korean feast. We prepared a home-style Italian dinner. We did a wonderful tapas night.

I particularly loved the flavors of our Middle Eastern dinner. Who knew you could make falafel completely from scratch, not from one of those just-add-water boxes from the supermarket? And, since this was in my pre-bread-making days, I was positively stunned -- stunned! -- when Char presented a basket of her homemade pita. Some sort of magic must be involved, I reasoned, to make those little pocket breads.

And, just when I thought I couldn't fit another morsel in my belly, Char presented dessert: A warm, rich, buttery, nutty, sweet, thoroughly intoxicating pudding-cake hybrid called Basbousa -- dolloped, of course, with a cloud of sweetened whipped cream.

I didn't do much cooking at those dinner parties. But I've certainly done plenty since then.

We had a good friend over for dinner last night, so I decided to do my own version of Char's Middle Eastern feast. I made this flavor-packed Middle Eastern Cabbage Salad (since I had a head of cabbage from this week's CSA box). I made some smoked-paprika-spiked hummus. And some tangy tzatziki with part of a CSA cucumber. I fried up some falafel -- homemade! -- from Mark Bittman's "The Best Recipes in the World."

And, since I've learned since taking Char's class that there's no magic involved in pocket bread, I baked a basket of homemade whole-wheat pita, following this super-easy recipe from Smitten Kitchen.

Ta-da:

And, of course, to top it all off, there was that sweet, rich, luxurious Basbousa. Whip up this easy dessert; I guarantee you'll be transported.

Thanks, Char, for the ride.

Basbousa (Semolina Pudding)

Serves 6 to 8

From Mark Bittman's "The Best Recipes in the World"

2 1/2 cups plus 1 tablespoon sugar

Juice of 1/2 lemon

1 teaspoon rose water (or to taste), optional

8 tablespoons (1 stick) butter, plus more for the pan

1/2 cup blanched almonds, very finely chopped or ground in a food processor

1/2 cup whole-milk yogurt

1 1/4 cups semolina (coarse durum flour)

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

1 cup heavy cream (preferably not ultra-pasteurized)

Put 1 1/2 cups of sugar, the lemon juice and 1/2 cup water in a saucepan and bring to a boil. Simmer until the mixture is thick and syrupy, about 5 minutes. Stir in rose water, if you're using it. Remove from the heat; when it has cooled, refrigerate until ready to use.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Place half the butter in a skillet over medium-high heat. When the butter foam subsides, add the almonds. Cook, stirring constantly, until they are lightly browned, about 5 minutes.

Beat the yogurt and 1 cup of remaining sugar together in a large bowl. Add the almonds and the butter they were cooked in, the semolina, baking powder and 1 teaspoon of vanilla extract, and beat until thoroughly blended.

Grease a 9-inch square baking pan and add the batter. Cook for about 30 minutes, until the cake is lightly browned.

Whip the cream until it holds soft peaks, then whip 1 minute more, incorporating the remaining 1 tablespoon sugar a 1/2 teaspoon vanilla.

Pour the syrup over the Basbousa and cut it as you would brownies. Put it back in the oven and bake for 3 minutes more. Melt the remaining 4 tablespoons butter and pour it over the Basbousa. Let rest for a few minutes, then serve warm with the whipped cream.

Cheers!

I was dashing off to Six Flags Great America last Saturday, right after picking up my latest CSA box. So I apologize for the lack of a group veggie shot from this week's box. You'll just have to trust me: It was all beautiful.

Our 7th Angelic Organics box contained:

-- Sweet onions

-- Red onions

-- Red cabbage

-- Broccoli

-- Kale (two types)

-- Dill

-- Cilantro

-- Carrots

-- Zucchini

-- Summer squash

-- Cucumbers

-- Eggplant

-- Purple peppers

-- Lettuce (two types)

-- Fennel

If you've ever spent, say, 10 hours at an amusement park, under the hot sun, surrounded by screaming children (including, on occasion, the one you birthed), you'll join me in cheering this news:

I'm happy to report the Lemon Balm Liqueur is done. And, lo, it's darn tasty.

So, I've been amassing a small stockpile of cucumbers in my refrigerator these past few weeks. I considered saving them, to use as weapons in the event of a home invasion. But I reconsidered. And I turned to Twitter for advice.

I was delightfully overwhelmed with cucumber recipes. Who knew you could do so many things with a cucumber?

I'm not much of a canner, but I was intrigued by refrigerator pickles. They don't keep as long as pickles canned under heat, of course, but they're super-easy.

So, I adapted this recipe from the July 16 Driftless Organics newsletter. Since I didn't have any pickling spice on hand, I monkeyed with this recipe a bit, making adjustments for what was in my spice cabinet. In some cases, I had to use ground spices. That's why the brine looks so cloudy. But I've already tasted a few slices (I'm not good at waiting) and they're great -- bright and sour and sweet with a nice kick from the red pepper.

Maybe some day I'll work up the courage to do some for-real canning.

But there's one domestic task I certainly do not fear: Bread-making.

Since I had that beautiful little eggplant and those cute little purple peppers and a vibrantly colored summer squash, I decided grilled veggie paninis would be a perfect dinner. But I needed some bread, of course.

I turned, once again, to King Arthur Flour. They've never let me down and didn't fail to please once again with this embarrassingly simple Easy Focaccia for Panini. For all you bakers out there afraid of kneading, this one's for you. There's no kneading. You just mix up a nice, wet dough. Let it sit for an hour, dump it into a greased 9- by 13-inch pan, let it sit another hour and bake it. About five minutes before it's done, you can top it however you like. I first brushed it with a little olive oil before sprinkling with kosher salt and grated Parmesan cheese. You could use dried herbs or chopped fresh herbs. You could use olives. Red pepper. Go wild.

Slice it horizontally and you've got a perfect bed for any sort of grilled sandwich.

Isn't it pretty?

And it made darn fine panini. But you won't see any pictures here.

I bet you can guess why.

I told you I wasn't good at waiting.

It's what it's all about

If you're new to Flour Girl (thanks!) you might be a bit confused.

That banner above my head says "One newspaper reporter's gluten-filled adventures in baking school." And, yet, you haven't seen a word about baking school for months, right?

Well, I've been on summer break. But I'm headed down to Washburne Culinary Institute this morning to register for fall semester, which begins Aug. 24. So, you can expect plenty of flour-filled madness in just a few weeks. I'll be starting off with Introduction to Baking and I'll be taking you along with me.

And I have it on good authority that I'll have a chef's coat with my name on it -- no more Tasha Granberry for me. I wish her well.

OK. I hate to leave you for the day without a recipe. So here's a sneak preview of what I've been cooking with my latest CSA box. This week's bursting box featured a couple of beautiful bulbs of fennel as well as some magazine-cover-worthy carrots.

I'd never cooked much with fennel before, but I knew these two made a good team. So, I asked about on Twitter and a helpful person sent me a wonderful looking Carrot Fennel Soup from Gourmet.

You start by roasting a couple of sliced fennel bulbs with a pound of carrot chunks, a chopped onion and some garlic. Toss it all with olive oil and roast at 450 degrees for about half an hour or until brown and fragrant.

I dumped the roasted vegetables into a stock pot and added a couple of cups of chicken broth. I used the immersion blender to mix it up (I prefer my soup chunkier than the recipe suggests) and added a little water to thin it. Even after adding salt and pepper, I thought this needed a little more oomph, so I tossed in a couple of pinches of smoked paprika.

I skipped the fennel oil called for in the recipe (though it looks divine) and instead made some croutons with the ends of a couple of breads I had on the counter. Never made homemade croutons? You'll never want to buy the supermarket ones again. Just cube some bread and toss it with a little olive oil and whatever flavorings you like (I've used Parmesan, dried Italian herbs or just kosher salt). Melt some butter in a big pan and throw the bread cubes in. Keep tossing them, over medium heat, 'til they're nice and golden. Put them on a plate to cool. You can keep these well-sealed in the freezer and just take them out as needed. They'll thaw in the time it takes to make your salad.

Or soup, as the case may be.