Flour — French & Farrar — KitchenLit 101

By Sierra French Myerson

Well, we’ve almost made it through the first month of the new year. The holidays are over and done with. Champagne and Auld Lang Syne are a distant memory once steeped with positivity and eager foresight. And now, for most, the resolutions are beginning to teeter. The work-outs are getting shorter. The carbs are in full re-entry mode. Self-doubt is rearing its ugly head.

I say, “Screw that!”.

At the end of every year, we pressure ourselves to resolve to change things about ourselves in the new year. The misstep in that, for me, is that we’re saying that something is broken and needs to be fixed. I mean, sure, we all have things we’d like to adjust in our bodies and lives, but the stress of “the resolution” can’t be good for the cause. Aren’t we just setting ourselves up for the fall?

I personally made an adjustment this time around. After a year of conscious hard work within myself, I wasn’t about to trip it all up with some invisible, yet forced, vow to lose 10 pounds or regularly organize my piles of paperwork or always put my laundry away as soon as I’ve folded it. All worthy goals to work on if the modification will make me happier. But, rather than pledging to do something that will inevitably make me feel guilty if I’m unsuccessful at it within the set timeline, I’m working on intentions. Ideas, notions, hopes, guidelines. No hard and fast rules or official goal weights, just intentions. Broad strokes in life.

The end-game for me has to be happiness and contentment. Granted, this hasn't always been the easiest category for me to fulfill for myself. It’s one of my intentions that is a constant work in progress. Figuring out how to just be ok with it all can be tricky. What I’ve learned for myself, is that sometimes just sitting with “it” for a while helps me be ok with “it” (whatever “it” is).

Once I've come to terms with why I’m uncomfortable or unhappy, I’ve noticed that it seems to naturally works itself out. Take this lemon yogurt cake, for instance. A lot of you have a wicked sweet tooth, and may have resolved to cut out treats all together in the new year. Don’t be crazy. If it’s something you enjoy, just figure out a way to easily manage it for yourself. This recipe calls for yogurt and a little bit of vegetable oil, instead of the loads of butter in most cakes. And, truly, there is no trade out in flavor. In fact, I prefer the added tartness and light texture to this recipe over others, so far. Obviously, don’t go nuts and eat the whole loaf. But, have an occasional slice, and let yourself enjoy it. “It” is ok.

Perhaps, moderation is the best resolution of all.

Pour the lemon syrup over the warm cake and let cool

Lemon Yogurt Cake

Thank you Barefoot Contessa (with slight adjustments for added lemon punch)

What you’ll need:

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup plain whole-milk yogurt
1 1/3 cups sugar, divided
3 extra-large eggs
2 Tbs. lemon zest (2 - 3 lemons)
1/2 tsp. pure vanilla extract
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1/3 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice

For the glaze:

1 cup confectioners’ sugar
2 Tbs. freshly squeezed lemon juice

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Grease an 8 1/2 to 9-inch loaf pan.

Sift together the flour, baking powder, and salt into one bowl. In another bowl, whisk together the yogurt, 1 cup sugar, the eggs, lemon zest, and vanilla. Slowly whisk the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients. With a rubber spatula, fold the vegetable oil into the batter, making sure it’s all incorporated. Pour the batter into the loaf pan and bake for about 50 minutes, or until a cake tester placed in the center of the cake comes out clean.

Meanwhile, cook the 1/3 cup lemon juice and remaining 1/3 cup sugar in a small pan until the sugar dissolves and the mixture is clear. Set aside.

When the cake is done, allow it to cool in the pan for 10 minutes. Then, carefully remove it from the pan and place it on a baking rack over a sheet pan. While the cake is still warm, pour the lemon-sugar syrup mixture over the cake and allow it to soak in. Cool completely.

For the glaze, combine the confectioners’ sugar and lemon juice and pour over the cake.

By Steph Farrar

It's the first Tuesday after Coachella and I get a sense that everyone is somehow thrilled it's over. Maybe it's my harrowing view of music festivals and grouchy age, but as much as I wish I could escape to the desert for the weekend, embrace complete freedom and walk in circles from one amazing artist stage to another, it just wasn't in my stars. Roasting a bird, however, right up my weekend alley.

I can literally feel myself getting older when I say such things. I grew up in the South, no stranger to live music. It's all I did, what I lived for. When I didn't have an essay due or a soccer game or track meet, I craved a concert. If there was live music by the river on a Sunday, we rugrats managed get a ride to the waterside, sneak cigarettes and maybe a beer and catch Tracy Chapman, Neil Young, Widespread Panic (ugh), Jimmy Buffett. Early mornings turned into super long days, soaking in the humidity, eating funnel cakes and looking for boys we liked, shying away when spotted. That's my kind of music festival.

Life was so simple, so basic. Like a one-pot meal, all year long. I like to think, now our goal is to keep it simple. I don't know about you, but life is just hard sometimes. I feel completely resolved knowing that, embracing it, and forging ahead. And I truly believe that making meals like this roasted chicken and veggies assists in keeping me sane and calm, because it's simple.

I'm usually vehemently against a picture of raw chicken, but this is a tutorial, and I care about you getting this right. Don't be scared!

If you don't already have a roasting pan, this is a great time to purchase one, as well as the grate that floats the bird above, so juices run off and season the vegetables underneath. You can always roast directly in the pan, but I believe flavor is taken to another level when pan-drippings make their way into your recipe.

You want to make sure you pull out the giblets if still inside the cavity. Discard or keep for making broth or gravy, your call. I discard. After rinsing and patting dry, salt and pepper the inside of the bird generously, stuff with two lemon halves, halved garlic and bunch of thyme. Then tuck the wings and tie the feet with kitchen string. Salt and pepper the exterior as well. Use softened (or melted) butter and spread all over.

Let's call our chicken Larry from now on.

Larry goes in the oven by himself, tented with foil for about 45 minutes at 425 degrees. Then get out your chopping block.

Yep, cut it all. Medium chop.

You know that feeling when your whole body rests and sort of lifts away? And you feel a light little hover, a peace, a resolve? I get that way when I watch Ina Garten smoothly instruct me how to cook, plate, entertain, enjoy. I get that way when I hear a tennis ball strike while quietly writing. And when Anthony Bourdain says, really, anything at all. Pure mellow.

There are so many roasted chicken recipes out there, but I always stick to Ina's perfect roast chicken. Cause it's good and so easy. And Sam, like Jeffrey, loves a roasted chicken.

Pure simple. Like 90's jam bands. Like the 90's period.

When your vegetables are all chopped, season with salt and pepper, add a couple glugs of olive oil and a bunch of finely chopped thyme. Once Larry has been in the oven for 45 minutes, pull him out and add your vegetables to the bottom of the pan and cook for an additional 45 minutes. Soooooo easy. Soooo good.

The final touch on this amazing recipe is the gravy. Whatever you do, don't forget the gravy.

And try to keep is simple. Real simple.

Roasted Chicken with Veggies

Adapted from Ina Garten's Perfect Roast Chicken

Ingredients:

1 5-6 lb. roasting chicken
1 large bunch fresh thyme
1 lemon halved
1 head of garlic, cut in half crosswise
2 tbsp melted or softened butter
1 large yellow onion, thickly sliced
4 carrots. cut into 2-inch chunks
1 fennel bulb, cored and cut into wedges
6 small red potatoes, halved
kosher salt
freshly ground pepper
3-4 tbsp olive oil
1/4 cup all purpose flour
1/2 cup low sodium chicken stock

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees, place rack near the bottom of the oven.

Remove the chicken giblets. Rinse the chicken inside and out. Remove any excess fat and leftover pin feathers and pat the outside dry. Liberally salt and pepper the inside of the chicken. Stuff the cavity with the bunch of thyme, both halves of lemon, and all the garlic. Brush the outside of the chicken with the butter and sprinkle again with salt and pepper. Tie the legs together with kitchen string and tuck the wing tips under the body of the chicken. Tent with foil to catch the crazy oil popping madness. Roast for 45 minutes.

Remove Larry from the oven and remove rack from pan, carefully. Combine onions, carrots, fennel, and potatoes with olive oil, salt, pepper, 20 sprigs of finely chopped thyme (removing as many leaves from sprigs as possible). Spread vegetables around the bottom of the roasting pan and return the chicken on top.

Roast the chicken for an additional 45 minutes (without foil) or until the juices run clear when you cut between a leg and thigh. Remove the chicken and vegetables to a platter and cover with aluminum foil for about 20 minutes.

In roasting pan, bring remaining juices to medium heat, scraping up any brown bits. Add chicken stock a few tablespoons at a time, constantly whisking the brown bits up and combining with the stock. Slowly add bits of flour, while whisking into a thickish brown gravy. Continue adding stock and flour until you reach your desired thickness.

Slice the chicken onto a platter and serve it with the vegetables, drizzle with gravy.