It's Not Too Late For You To Come To My House For Thanksgiving...Or Ever!

Dear Tofurkey,

Your husband's diet is perplexing. It doesn't make sense, except as an exercise in vexation. He can eat bread packed with grains and pumpkin, or delicious paninis dripping with melted cheese, but he can't have...what? Baked goods? Sugar? Someone needs to give him a nutrition lesson before his arbitrary embargoes drive you to drink, or worse, bake for other men.

This brings me to the subject of my renounced Nazism  As you are aware, not long ago I was on a diet that would make a tightly-wound German schoolmaster look flexible and forgiving. Now that I've liberated myself (for the low, low price of all the muscle I gained on that diet), I've been enjoying the freedom to cook with all those ingredients eschewed by your husband, and others he probably should avoid if he's really trying to lose weight: butter, cream, sugar, grains, and really anything that isn't lean meat or a vegetable.

I had forgotten why I should enjoy these things in the first place (hardcore dieting does interesting things to the mind), but now that we've been reunited, my old friends are reminding me. Still, I have never really understood Pop Tarts. They're just too sweet for me.

But in Joanne Chang's Flour cookbook she has a recipe for homemade ones that I may try. She makes them from fresh fruit and laminated pastry dough. I have cooked only a few things from this book, but every one of them has been phenomenal. And I mean it. Every one has been a phenomenon, talk of which has spread far and wide, most likely because my boyfriend is also enjoying my liberation from fitness-Nazism.

Exhibit D (for delicious):

This is the a cake I made from the Flour cookbook. It's supposed to be triple layer, but unlike your husband, I have a diet that is coherent: the diet of one. I limit myself to one. So three layers is out. It was amazing. The cake is a very dark, rich, almost brownie-like cake. But the real phenomenon was the icing. I have never in my life, or in my imagination, had icing so good. It was a milk chocolate buttercream icing which was basically a combination of meringue, butter, and ganache. It had such a rich, complex flavor that it was just unlike any icing I've had before. Like wine, it had flavors up front, at the end, and in between. It was also so light you almost wouldn't know you were eating anything. That is unless you chilled it, in which case it started out like ice cream and melted into a glorious memory on your tongue.

Chef Chang has made a few things obvious to me. One is that for a little extra effort, a willingness to dirty a few more bowls and spoons, I can exponentially improve my food. In other words, a little extra work is a LOT tastier. And second (a corollary of the first tip): air is delicious. Yes, that's right. What you breathe everyday to survive is actually the best thing you'll ever eat. Just try it. Whip your butter and eggs for just a few minutes next time you make cookies. Or that batter. Or the sauce for your entree. Suddenly it's like eating something new.

Funny you should mention the famous PCCB, because this turned out to be the case with that staple of our early friendship. I will call what we used to eat PCCB v. 1.0. I have since made PCCB v. 2.0 by adapting the Flour cookbook's recipe for banana bread. I forgot to take pictures last time I made it (so stay tuned blog public), but it hews pretty close to the original. The biggest change from the original recipe was that I beat on high in my Kitchen Aid the sugar and pre-beaten eggs for several minutes before delicately adding the oil, pumpkin vanilla, and creme fraiche. This makes the batter so light and airy that the PCCB comes out fluffier and with much richer flavors. Try it! I guarantee you'll love the difference.

Missing you (unless you want to come visit),

Turkey