Center of the Cinnamon Roll

It’s not every day, or even every year, that I get the chance to share a guest post on the blog, so you have to know that this one’s special. I’m lucky enough to have a local chef Craig Vanis of Bistro Vonish joining us to share a story that’s both personal and delicious. As someone with a deep love for food and tradition, Craig reflects on the small yet unforgettable moments that food can create. Especially as we near Mother’s Day, it feels especially poignant as he takes us back in time to his grandmother’s kitchen, where cinnamon rolls were more than just a treat, but also a symbol of connection and joy. It’s a real treat to have him share that moment in time along with the recipe that’s been a part of his family for years. -HK

Somehow, grandmas always have the best treats. It’s a fact. Maybe our memories of those goodies tasting so great is due to a childish regression. Or maybe, and I think this is more likely, everyone is factually correct in remembering their grandma’s snacks as superlative. Having those little treats at Grandma’s house is always going to be a little slice of joy so wholesome that Norman Rockwell wouldn’t even know where to begin.

Being a descendant of Bohemian immigrants, kolaches were a must have at Grandma Vanis’s house (only the sweet varieties are “kolache” in a Czech home, and the poppyseed filling is especially popular). But kolaches were not my favorite treat in her kitchen. My favorite? The Cinnamon Roll. Yes. Singular Cinnamon Roll. Specifically, Grandma’s Giant Cinnamon Roll (™). How giant? Giant. About 10 inches across. Approximately 120 cubic inches. It was as if a whole loaf of monkey bread was twirled to maximized cinnamon-sugar surface area. “Quick! Tell me about grandma’s cinnamon roll.” I’d say, “It’s huge!”

Her mid-western farm house was always abuzz with innumerable grand kids, and eventually, great grand kids. The Cinnamon Roll was an ever-winding solitary behemoth, spiraling out to the far reaches of a large pie pan. A horizontal monolith of hypnotic enjoyment. We would cut sections off of the outer edge as the circumference tightened in on itself (full disclosure: we probably used our fingers unless an adult was watching), relishing each delightful morsel while we caught up with the extended family.

There’s a delicate dance to this ritual where you do not want to fill up too much on the outer layers, lest you miss being the lucky duck whose final big bite includes the point from which all cinnamon-sugar elation radiates. The very concept of a dopamine rush made incarnate and leavened with yeast. The headliner in this amazing festival of treats. The checkered flag in the pastry grand prix. The Center. The Center of Grandma’s Giant Cinnamon Roll (™).

This is where the cinnamon-sugar is concentrated while being endlessly wound during assembly. It is where the icing pools and gently soaks in while the pastry race is in progress. And unlike other cinnamon rolls, this center is attained by beating your siblings and cousins in a criterium race to the treasure. Eat too little and you’ll never get there. Eat too much and you’ll be too full to compete at crunch time. It’s not just that the center is the moistest, or sweetest, or gooiest. The center of this cinnamon roll tastes like victory.

The rules to this game of Duck Duck Cinnamon Goose chasing bites around the pie pan are sacred. And it is this sanctity which keeps the calm and order during this adventure. And woe to whomever skips ahead to pluck The Center before it is time. That person will meet the wrath of this sugar-fueled mob, and feel the ire of a whole half of a family tree. This betrayal will plant a grudge that will persist for decades.

So be warned. This Ceylon-spiced key to delight can also unlock a bedlam not known since William Golding stranded that group of British school boys on an island.

Now that you know the stakes, I offer this recipe up to you, dear reader, in hopes of sharing a sliver of these happy memories with you and your loved ones.

Continue reading “Center of the Cinnamon Roll”

Finessing Fennel

Fennel is not a common line item on my grocery list. Apparently, the same can be said for most of America, judging by the distinct lack of bulbs chilling in the produce department. Fresh fennel is one of those ingredients that I’ll buy for a recipe, kick myself for not buying more often after remembering its brilliance, and promptly forgetting again. Though polarizing like cilantro, the licorice-like flavor is one that I love. That fresh, herbal flavor that shines through whether cooked or raw is utterly inimitable.

Most recipes focus on the crisp base itself, forsaking the stalks and fronds. After going through all the trouble (and expense) of getting fresh fennel, you’d better believe I’m not about to let any of it go to waste. Fennel pesto is an easy solution for zero-waste satisfaction.

Apply liberally anywhere you’d use basil pesto. Pasta; salad; bruschetta; rice pilaf; soup; anywhere you want a little botanical infusion can benefit from a spoonful. If you want a drink pairing, try any gin cocktail to pick up on the complex aromatics found within.

How could anyone forsake the delicate fronds and more robust stems of fennel, especially after going through the trouble of securing the whole vegetable? For your own happiness, health, and frugality, never throw away any part of fennel again. If you like it enough to cook with it, you’ll love squeezing out every last drop of flavor.

Continue reading “Finessing Fennel”

Your Life or Your Lupins

Soybeans get all the fame and glory as the premiere meatless protein, but what if I told you there was another bean that could steal the spotlight with ease? Lupini beans are the dark horse rivals, vying for legume supremacy, almost doubling the protein content of whole soybeans. Think that soy foods are unique, chalking up tofu, soymilk, tempeh, and more as a clear soybean success story? Just wait until you see what the humble lupin can do.

The Lupin Spin

First, the confusion of naming needs to be addressed. “Lupini” is the Italian plural form referring to the seeds of the lupin plant. Lupine and lupin are both common names for the same flowering plant genus, Lupinus. The genus is part of the legume family, which also includes peanuts. There are over 200 species of lupine, though not all are edible. Some, like the beloved Texas bluebonnet, are actually poisonous. Don’t go digging up your garden in search of a feast, and on that note, be careful to keep them away from curious pets, who are more susceptible to the measured dose of poison in an unsuspecting seed.

Lupini Through History

Lupini beans are just starting to get their big break, but they’ve been around as a reliable food source since roughly 3000 BCE. Hailing from the Mediterranean and the Near East, evidence shows that the ancient the Egyptians and Romans knew the value of a good lupin when they saw it. During the Middle Ages, lupins were grown in Europe not only as a food source but also as a nitrogen-fixing crop to improve soil quality. They were commonly planted as part of crop rotations to enhance soil fertility. In the modern era, lupins have been gaining attention as a sustainable, high-protein legume now that the sweet lupin has been selectively bred for better taste and ease of consumption. Early lupins were often relegated to animal feed given their bitter nature, which also explains their slow start on the mainstream market.

The Cooking Conundrum

The biggest barrier to entry, aside from sourcing the beans to begin with, is cooking them. Even the newer “sweet” strain requires a concerted effort when it comes to cooking, in an attempt to remove more of the bitter alkaloids and break down almost impenetrably tough skins. This is also why you’ll often find them pickled, not dry or canned. Pickled lupini beans are ready to eat and infused with salty, savory flavor. The most popular brand in health food stores packages theirs in pouches; old school labels sell glass jars, found in the import section in specialty or gourmet stores.

Although you can of course buy dried lupini beans, I don’t recommend it. To beat them into submission, or some version of edibility, you would need to:

  1. Cover with cold water and soak for 24 hours.
  2. Drain, add fresh water, and simmer for 2 hours.
  3. Cool completely, drain, and add more cold water.
  4. Soak overnight. Drain and replace the water.
  5. Boil for 45 minutes – 1 hour. Drain and replace the water.
  6. Soak overnight. Drain and replace the water.
  7. Boil for 45 minutes – 1 hour. Drain and replace the water.
  8. Soak overnight. Drain and replace the water.
  9. Taste for doneness. If still bitter or gritty, repeat the boiling process.
  10. Add salt and store submerged in water, like pickles.

If you’re willing to sacrifice roughly a week of your life to this process, be my guest. You’re far more patient than me.

What Do Lupini Beans Taste Like?

I thought you’d never ask! Sweet lupins are poised to be the new edamame; large and flat as fava beans or gigante beans, yellowish tan in color, and encased in a substantial but edible skin, you can peel them or eat them as is. Mild in flavor and firm in texture, they’re an ideal bar snack served either hot or cold, and especially with a salty finish. Aside from eating them out of hand, they’re excellent tossed in salads and simmered in soups, since they won’t fall apart for anything.

Beyond The Whole Bean

Consider lupini beans for further applications beyond immediate eating gratification, and that’s where things get interesting.

  • Lupin flour holds incredible promise as a gluten-free, keto, high-protein staple, capable of creating highly nutritious pastas, cakes, cookies, breads, and more. Blended with water and seasonings, it could become a liquid egg substitute, too.
  • Lupin “rice” is an alternative to the conventional whole grain, made more like an orzo pasta for quick cooking applications.
  • Ground lupin or lupin flakes are a coarser take on flour, approximating the texture of grits or savory oatmeal when cooked.
  • Lupin milk, though rare in US markets, is taking off primarily in Europe, noted for its excellent frothing abilities in lattes, thanks to its naturally high protein content.
  • Lupin cheese is every bit as varied and versatile as the average nut cheese, ranging in texture and flavor from creamy ricotta to sliceable, buttery Havarti.
  • Lupin tempeh isn’t a stretch of the imitation, as any bean can be tempeh-fied.
  • Lupin tofu is similarly successful as a soy-free alternative, more aligned with Burmese “chickpea tofu” in preparation rather than the traditional coagulated soymilk approach.

Where Do You Get Your Protein

Okay, let’s get the protein talk out of the way. One cup of cooked lupini beans does in fact have 26 – 30 grams of complete protein, including all 9 essential amino acids. Incredibly high in fiber, they’re the only bean that has 0 grams net carbs per serving. Additionally, they’re a good source of manganese, copper, magnesium, phosphorus, potassium, zinc, folate, and vitamin A.

However, there is one big nutritional red flag about lupini beans that I briefly mentioned earlier. Being part of the peanut family, those with severe peanut allergies may have similar sensitivities when exposed to lupins of any variety. If that’s the case, avoid lupins and any lupin products to be safe.

From Unknown to Unforgettable

Lupini beans have lost their harsh edge and are ready for their closeup. To get the most bang for your bean buck with a protein-packed legume, look no further. They’re versatile enough to transform from a quick fix snack to your new secret ingredient in all things baked and cooked. I think they’re the next big thing in bean technology, personally, and I’m here for it.

Not Only In Dubai

If something like Dubai chocolate has become so popular that it’s even piqued my mom’s interest, you know there has to be at least a degree of legitimacy to it. This isn’t a knock against my mom, but a commendation. She doesn’t bother with food trends nor waste her days doom scrolling through social media brain rot. If it hits her radar in a meaningful way, it’s wise to take notice. When explaining my latest recipe project inspired by the now famous Arabian luxury confectionery, she already knew the reference. As if I wasn’t already eager to try it, that sealed the deal.

Bringing Dubai To My Dad

This isn’t about my mom, though; it’s actually inspired by my dad. Whenever I see something made with pistachios, I immediately think of him. Notoriously difficult to treat when it comes to food gifts, preferring the basics over indulgence everyday, sweet pistachios are an easy win. Pistachio ice cream or pistachio brittle; pistachio baklava especially, with its layers of flaky pastry drenched in honeyed syrup. That phyllo draws another parallel to the famed chocolate, which is filled with the shredded version known as kataifi. Failing to find such a rarity locally, I nearly gave in and ordered it online, when I realized there was a better answer: coconut.

Nuts For Coconut

Long strands of shredded coconut have a texture that’s uncannily similar to kataifi when smothered in dense nut butter. Plus, it’s another one of my dad’s favorite things. Then, switching the sweetener from plain white sugar to maple syrup sealed the deal. A house is not a home without a bottle of pure maple syrup ready and waiting by his, and now my, estimation. Just don’t tell him that these clever swaps crafted out of flavor preference unintentionally made this outrageously decadent confection reasonably healthy.

Made Better

No refined sugar, gluten-free, soy-free, and of course dairy- and egg-free; Coconut Dubai Chocolate uses a darker base to offset the soft, pale green filling. Nutty, toasted, subtly woodsy, chewy, and a touch creamy, such a rich world of flavor is encased in a snappy dark chocolate shell! Don’t worry about running out to buy specialty molds either; I made mine in popsicle molds, filling in the hole for a stick with chocolate first. Otherwise, there’s no shame in making mini bites with an ice cube tray.

Is it an perfect dupe of genuine Dubai Chocolate? Absolutely not. It’s much better.

Continue reading “Not Only In Dubai”

Green Goddess Goodness

Few dishes embody warmth, richness, and versatility quite like risotto. Celebrated for its creamy texture and unpretentious yet indulgent nature, risotto is all too often relegated to the cold winter months. Skipping over spring flavors would be a terrible mistake, as evidenced by a vibrant, verdant bowlful of Green Tea Goddess Risotto.

Fusing classic Italian comfort with an unexpected Asian twist, brewed green tea replaces conventional vegetable stock with an herbaceous foundation. Building upon that with the fresh flavors found in Green Goddess dressing, parsley, chives, and tarragon brighten and lighten the dish in one fell swoop.

Sushi rice has long been my preferred short grain for making risotto, above the more “authentic” arborio or carnaroli. I find it to be easier and quicker to cook, not to mention much easier to find in stores and less expensive. It just so happens to fit the fusion theme, too.

Whether served as a side dish or a light entree, the end results are inevitably rewarding. Familiar yet novel, comforting and sophisticated, it’s ideal for both casual dinners and special occasions. Risotto should be a perennial option on the menu, especially when it’s this brilliant.

Continue reading “Green Goddess Goodness”

Kawarma Quandary

Hummus is so much more than just a dip. In much of the world, it’s an indispensable staple on par with coffee; the day can’t start without a generous serving. Although the debate rages on over who makes it best, exactly what should go into it, and how it should be served, we can all agree that more hummus is always a good thing. That’s why I’m cutting to the chase here, putting it front and center of the plate as the entree you’ve been craving. Hummus Kawarma Pie takes the question of double dipping off the table since you can dive right in with a fork.

Instant Kawarma Karma

Hummus kawarma is a sensation all on its own, typically made with our beloved blended chickpea base supporting a topping of fried lamb. Spiced generously and lavished with plenty of olive oil, it’s rich, aromatic, and devilishly decadent. Taking inspiration from classic shepherd’s pie, I took the concept and flipped it upside down, doubling up on thoroughly seasoned meatless grounds and smothering them with creamy homemade hummus. Baked until that heart filling begins bubbling up around the edges, it’s the crowd-pleasing casserole you didn’t know you were missing.

Simplifying and Serving

Though not exactly a quick fix meal, it’s worth the effort, down to the very last bite. You can lighten the work load a bit in a few ways though:

  • Prep the hummus in advance. Stored in the fridge in an airtight container, it should last for at least a week.
  • Use store-bought hummus. Alternately, take a semi-homemade approach and cut the workload in half. Grab two 8-ounce containers of your favorite hummus and spread it on thick.
  • Swap the spices in the kawarma for za’atar. The flavor will of course be different, but in an uniquely, equally tasty way.

Packed with protein, it’s a standalone powerhouse of a meal. To stretch it further and feed more people, you have plenty of options for accompaniments:

  • Toasted bread, warm pita, chips, or crackers for dipping and scooping.
  • Steamed broccoli, green beans, snap peas, or asparagus to get your veggies in.
  • Green salad as a lighter foil to such a hearty dish.

Hummus Among Us

Don’t leave hummus out cold as merely a token appetizer. Baking it with an aromatic meaty filling breathes new life into the predictable party starter, transforming it from supporting actor into the headlining star. The creamy hummus base becomes even richer as it bakes, absorbing the bold spices of the savory filling. Take hummus to new heights, turning it into a satisfying, flavorful entrée that will leave you craving more.

Continue reading “Kawarma Quandary”