It's that time!

Well, my lovelies, it's finally here - the most magical time of year. And I say that completely without irony. If there's something I truly love, it's Christmastime. As I told my friend Dave a couple of weeks ago: I'm Christmas crazy. The music, the decorations, the search for the perfect present, the search for the perfect wrapping, the food, the parties, the feeling that regular business has been suspended - I love it all.

And nowhere on earth does Christmas the way New York does. While spending the season in France is high on my wish list, every Christmas I get to spend in New York makes me fall more deeply in love with my city.

I promise loads of photos from all over the city over the course of the next few weeks, when I'll be all over the place celebrating like crazy. (I hit several carol sings and a Messiah sing-along each year, even though my voice isn't quite was it once was.) In the meantime, I thought I'd show you a couple of the decorations I've put up on my home turf.

As you probably know, my apartment is fairly teeny (only 350 square feet total), so I stick with a similarly teeny tree that doesn't even pretend to be real - I call it my Charlie Brown tree - and hang my favorite Gorham silver snowflakes and crystal ornaments from bare cherry branches. (I'm seriously considering grouping some tiny pine cones around the base of the pitcher - what do you think?) It may not be much, but it's home - and doesn't take up too much space, leaving plenty of room for entertaining galore!

How are you decorating your space this season?

Photo of the Empire State Building courtesy of DeaPeaJay on Flickr.

Apples, cranberries, crumble.

Much to my brother's dismay, I'm constantly looking for the perfect apple pie. While his tastes run to a sweet, traditional pie, my own are sated by a tarter version. This year, a Gourmet recipe for a cranberry-apple crumble pie caught my fancy.

I tested the recipe out at my office potluck two weeks ago, and had a good bit of success. The pie uses Gala apples, as opposed to the more typical (and tarter) Granny Smiths. The Galas cook up beautifully, their slightly grainy texture turning to silky (but durable) velvet in the heat of the oven.


To counter the sweetness of the Galas, the recipe calls for brown sugar in place of white and adds a handful of cranberries to the mix. The cranberries (plus a bit of lemon juice) turn the pie filling a gorgeous pink color and add a different texture to the mix.

The real star, though, is the crumble topping. A basic mixture of flour, butter, brown sugar and cinnamon is made special by the addition of chopped pecans, which turn rich and dark during baking. I wasn't sure the topping would be contrast enough for the filling, but it was - very much so.


Next year I might do my experimenting with the pumpkin pie and let Jeremy have his traditional version of the apple...or not.

A tradition is reborn.

Just like your family (I'm making what I think is a safe assumption here), mine has certain inviolable Thanksgiving traditions. One of these is serving creamed onions with the meal. For the last 29 years, I've been a reluctant consumer of that dish. Definitively Waspy both in frugality (it consists of little more than onions, flour and milk) and flavor (as in, not a lot of it), it's a staple for most New Englanders, and my mom has served it every year in living memory. As did her mother before her.

This year, I stumbled across a recipe in Saveur's November issue that gave me hope for creamed onions. Saveur chronicled several American Thanksgiving feasts, one of which was cooked by Anna North Coit, a 101 year-old woman from Stonington, Connecticut. Anna (a fellow Yankee - even better for authenticity's sake, a fellow Connecticut native) spikes her creamed onions with curry powder and Tobasco. Surely, I thought, this will make the onions at least a bit more edible, and curry goes so well with turkey.

Luckily, I was right. My mom was out of Tobasco and I had to substitute cayenne, and her Florida grocery store only had jarred pearl onions, but none of that really mattered. This year, the creamed onions were not only edible, but tasty. And instead of being yet another white or brown element of the traditional Thanksgiving plate, they were a gorgeous yellow.

I hereby declare a tradition.

Queenie's Treasury

Good morning, my lovelies! I hope you're all recovering nicely from your Thanksgiving festivities. I am on my way home to NYC today - cross your fingers for me that that the travels are calm and quiet (last year we sat in the Jacksonville airport for 6 hours).

This week's treasury will hopefully help you get into the holiday spirit, in case you, unlike me, haven't been binging on a diet of Christmas music for the last 24 hours. First, an awesome advent calendar roundup from Design Crush. If you haven't bought yours yet, it's not too late! I'm seriously considering downloading the one from mibo studio.

From How About Orange comes my favorite gingerbread man ornament of ALL TIME. It may be dark, but it's funny as hell. Whenever I look at it, I can't stop laughing. I am seriously considering whipping one of these up for a friend who shares my love of the perverse.

Do you have a typewriter? Well, then, here's a holiday party invite idea for you, courtesy of The Haystack Needle blogger, Jen. Using paint samples as stationery, Jen typed out invitations to her recent housewarming and sent them off to her friends. The paint samples are a natural choice for a housewarming, but a set of them in the same colors you're using to decorate for Christmas, Hanukkah or New Year's could be pretty dang cool.

A happy accident.

On Saturday morning, I visited the St. Stephen's Greenmarket at 82nd and First, where I bought some dill, brussels sprouts, shallots and beets - at least, I thought they were beets.

Turns out, they were a batch of the biggest purple radishes I have ever seen. I made this discovery when I started slicing them for a roasted beet and cucumber salad. Not to be deterred, I decided to roast the radishes instead, and to add some sliced carrots to replace the sweetness of the beets.

It also turns out that roasted radishes and carrots make a pretty damn good salad when tossed with cucumber, dill, onion and a lemon vinaigrette. The salad went perfectly with my roast chicken thigh, and I had to restrain myself from eating the second half of the meal, which had been earmarked for Monday's lunch.

All in all, a good showing.

Roast Chicken with Radish, Carrot and Cucumber Salad

Olive oil
1 bunch radishes, washed and cut into one-inch pieces
1 large carrot, peeled and cut into half-inch thick half-moons
Salt and pepper
2 chicken thighs (bone-in, skin-on)
2 kirby cucumbers, seeded and cut into one-inch pieces
1/4 large white onion, thinly sliced
3 tbs. fresh dill, finely chopped
1 small shallot, minced
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
Juice of one lemon
1 tsp. honey
2 tbs. canola oil

Preheat the oven to 425°F. Line a baking sheet with aluminum foil and brush the foil with a bit of olive oil. Spread the carrots and radishes evenly on the foil, drizzle with a bit more olive oil, and season with salt and pepper. Place in the preheated oven and roast for 25-35 minutes, stirring once or twice, until tender and beginning to brown deeply.

Meanwhile, pat the chicken thighs dry, brush another baking sheet with olive oil (no foil this time), and place the chicken thighs on the sheet. Season with salt and pepper and add to the oven. Roast for 30-40 minutes, until the skin is crisp and golden, and the meat's juices run clear. Set aside to rest for 5-10 minutes.

Place the cucumbers, onion and dill in a medium bowl. In a small bowl, whisk together the shallot, mustard, lemon juice, honey and a bit of salt and pepper. Add the oil in a small stream, whisking as you go, until the mixture is emulsified. Set aside.

Once the roasted vegetables have cooled for a minute or two, add them to the cucumber. Add half of the vinaigrette and toss the salad until all ingredients are evenly distributed. Taste and add more vinaigrette as needed, and season with salt and pepper to taste.

Spoon the salad evenly onto two plates, and place a chicken thigh on top of each little pile. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Serves 2.

Happy Thanksgiving!

On this most food-obsessed of all holidays, I wish you all the very best! And if you need a little help today, don't forget that the Butterball hotline is open all day long (Sam Sifton of the New York Times is answering questions until 3 PM EST, too!)

Don't be ashamed to call - after all, the greatest president of all time wasn't scared to do so.

Finally!

For a long time now - years, really - I've been on the hunt for a great pumpkin bread recipe. Most of the ones I've tried have been insipid and sweet, too loaded down with oil to actually bake all the way through without burning to a crisp on top, or just plain boring. Finally, though, I think I've hit gold. Or orange. Or whatever.

Ironically, it's a recipe that's been sitting in my apartment for over a year now. It was featured as part of a review of Cindy Mushet's The Art and Soul of Baking back in the October 2008 issue (which also has a great article about the Wonka-esque effects of a meal at Alinea), and I'm completely in love with it. It, unlike so many other pumpkin bread recipes, features ginger, allspice and cloves - not just allspice and cinnamon. It has a nice balance of spicy and sweet and bakes to the perfect consistency. Like most quickbreads, it's a mix-and-dump affair, which only adds to the appeal. In short, it's awesome.

And I'm not the only one who thinks so. I test-drove it (minus the walnuts) at work (where its fragrance perfumed our entire pod within an hour) and at my book club meeting last week, when I sent everyone home with leftovers.

Now it's your turn - enjoy!

Pumpkin Walnut Bread
Adapted from The Art and Soul of Baking by Cindy Mushet

The one thing I changed is the amount of ginger - I think a little extra dash really gives the bread a nice zing.

2 cups flour
3/4 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1/4 tsp. allspice
1/4 tsp. ground cloves
1/2 tsp. ginger
1/4 tsp. salt
2 large eggs, at room temperature
1/3 cup water
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 cup prepared pumpkin
1/2 cup canola oil
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1 cup toasted walnuts, chopped

Preheat the oven to 350°F and position the oven rack in the center. Butter a 9-by-5-inch loaf pan and line it with parchment paper, ensuring the paper extends an inch over the rim on all sides.

In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, cinnamon, allspice, cloves, ginger and salt until well-combined. In another, medium bowl, whisk together the eggs and water. Add the sugar and blend well. Add the pumpkin, canola oil and vanilla extract and stir until combined.

Add the pumpkin mixture to the dry ingredients and whisk until the batter is blended and smooth. Add the walnuts and stir with a wooden spoon until the nuts are evenly distributed. Using a spatula, scrape the batter into the prepared pan and smooth the top.

Bake for 45-60 minutes, until the bread is firm to the touch and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Transfer to a rack and allow to cool completely before slicing. Leftovers should be wrapped in aluminum foil and left at room temperature (where they'll keep for two days) or in the fridge (where they'll keep for four days).