This blog is such an enabler. Here I am, in the middle of my early-summer “yikes-it’s-skirt-and-tank-top-weather-when-did-that-happen?” health kick, and finally sticking to a running schedule for the first time in months, and what do I do? Bake, of course. Why? Because my blog needs sweets.

Over the past 14 months Kitchenist has taken on a life of its own, so much so that it’s started demanding baked goods, and fancy ones at that. Most people bake for someone – kids, houseguests, co-workers, a partner – who can appreciate, or at least consume, the fruits of their labour. Not me, I bake for my blog. Which, as it turns out, doesn’t have much of an appetite.

This Coffee-Ginger-Pistachio cake is a good example of how my blog cajoles and convinces me to bake it fancy treats, and then leaves me to eat them. Of course, this cake wasn’t all that fancy to begin with; it started life as an iced-in-the-pan, square-tin sweet. But with the controlling Kitchenist whispering in my ear, I made some changes. That square tin became a round one, and the resulting cake got sliced in half to become a modest layer cake. With the rustically spread cream cheese frosting and the artfully sprinkled pistachio pieces, you’d almost think that someone other than me or my boyfriend was going to enjoy this thing.

Because in my book, this is the kind of cake that you make for a reason; dinner party, a birthday, something where “impressive” is on the menu. Generally I ignore this brand of dessert and focus on simpler fare, like cookies, squares and loaf cakes. But I suppose there’s nothing wrong with making something fancy for no reason at all. It keeps the blog happy, anyway.

Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for my evening run.

• Coffee-Ginger-Pistachio Cake
• adapted from The Guardian
• makes one 9″ cake, cut into 2 layers
• For the cake:
  50g unsalted butter
  75ml milk
  1 Tbs. ground coffee (not instant)
  2cm piece of ginger, finely grated (about 1 Tbs.)
  2 eggs
  200g caster sugar
  100ml neutral oil
  75g pistachios, chopped
  75g glacé ginger, chopped
  275g plain flour
  1 Tbs. baking powder
  1/4 tsp. salt
  
  For the topping:
  200g cream cheese, at room temperature
  125g unsalted butter, at room temperature
  zest of one lemon
  2 tsp. lemon juice
  175g icing sugar
  25g pistachios, chopped
• 1. Line the bottom of a 9″ cake tin with parchment and butter the sides lightly. Preheat the oven to 180°C/35°0F.
  
  2. Melt the butter in a small pot over low heat, then remove and mix in the milk, coffee and ginger. Set aside.
  
  3. Beat the eggs and sugar together with an electric mixer until pale and foamy, then beat in the coffee mixture and oil until well combined. Stir in the pistachios and glacé ginger then fold in the flour, baking powder and salt.
  
  4. Scrape the mixture into the prepared pan and bake for 30-35 minutes, until an inserted skewer comes out clean. Let cool completely before carefully slicing in half with your largest knife; separate the layers until ready to ice.
  
  5. To make the icing, beat the cream cheese with an electric mixer for one minute, until smooth and creamy. Add the butter and beat for another minute. Briefly beat in the lemon zest and juice before adding the icing sugar and beating until just combined.
  
  6. Spread half the icing over the first layer of cake before carefully topping with the second layer. Cover with the remaining icing and sprinkle with the pistachios.

It’s been cold in the UK this winter. Cold and snowy- two things the Brits are definitely not used to. Up and down the country roads are blocked, schools are closed and trains aren’t running. People are turning up the heat, bulk-buying at the grocery store and generally indulging in a spot of controlled panic. This Canadian is viewing it all with detached bemusement, but I can’t say the Dickensian weather isn’t affecting me; it’s influencing what I cook, after all.

I’ve been simmering soups, roasting veg and baking potatoes to see Andrew and me through the cold snap. Strangely, the most warming recipe I’ve made in recent weeks isn’t a hearty pie or a fiery curry, but rather a cookie. The British gingernut biscuit, though delicious, is a confusingly named creature- why “nut”? Gingersnaps- perhaps, ginger chews- most definitely, but there’s nothing nutty about these.

There is, however, something very, very hot about them. Or at least about mine- I use a good 1/2 teaspoon of cayenne pepper, so your throat remembers these long after your mouth has forgotten. If that doesn’t sound like your kind of cookie, just cut back on the cayenne; with a crispy first bite leading to a chewy centre, these are delicious with or without the heat. But until the weather around here warms up, I’m sticking to spice.

Note: As delicious as these cookies are, gingernuts don’t keep well. Best within a day or two of baking, they quickly become tough after that. Luckily, this recipe is easily scaled back, so make only what you need.

• Red Hot Gingernuts
• adapted from Breakfast, Lunch, Tea by Rose Carrarini
• makes about 40 cookies
• 240g golden syrup
  40g black treacle
  440g self-raising flour
  150g dark brown sugar
  1 1/2 Tbs. baking soda
  3 Tbs. ground ginger
  1/2 tsp. cayenne pepper (less if you don’t like spice)
  200g unsalted butter, cut into 1cm cubes
• 1. Preheat the oven to 160°C/325°F and line two baking sheets with parchment paper. In a small saucepan over medium heat, melt together the golden syrup and the treacle to hot but not simmering. Set aside to cool slightly while you get on with the rest of the dough.
  
  2. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking soda, ginger and cayenne. Add the butter and work into the dry ingredients until the mixture resembles breadcrumbs; it is best to use your fingers for this step.
  
  3. Pour the (not too hot) syrup into the bowl and mix with a fork until everything comes together in a smooth, shiny dough. This won’t take long, as the residual heat from the syrup will help to melt the butter and bind everything together.
  
  4. Roll the dough into 1″ balls and place well apart on the prepared baking trays. Bake cookies for 10 minutes until barely browned on the outer edges; they will be very flat and crackled all over. Until cookies have cooled they are delicate and difficult to handle, so wait at least 5 minutes before removing to a cooling rack.

Last night, Andrew and I went out for drinks and food with a friend who’d recently moved back to London. Because I like cooking and am pretty good at it (and yes, am somewhat of a cheapskate), we don’t go out for food too often. Restaurant meals can easily lead to conversation like “Oh, I could make this so much better at home” or “This would be great if you just replaced x with y, or served it alongside some fresh z“. You get the idea- hardly a relaxing way to spend an evening. Still, we were both looking forward to this night on the town, and ventured out with optimism.

After an al fresco pint at a central London dive pub, we ended up at Hix, a Soho restaurant that specialises in British food. We opted to eat at the swanky downstairs bar, and while I loved the extensive cocktail list, the food menu was positively heaving with meat. Beef, lamb, partridge, deer- seriously, it was like this restaurant was playing host to the BBC Young Butcher of the Year competition (no, I’m not kidding- it’s a real show).

I wasn’t all that hungry, so I didn’t mind ordering a starter for my veggie kicks. The Autumn Squash salad was delicious, beautifully presented, and left me with room for dessert (always a bonus), but wasn’t really what I was in the mood for. It was only at the end of the night, after we’d polished off our steamed treacle pudding and drained the last drop from our macchiatos, that we noticed three tiny words printed on the back page of the menu: Vegetarian Menu Available.

I’ll just let that sink in for a minute.

Can you believe that? I’d certainly never seen it before- in London or anywhere else. Rather than upsetting me, the news that there had been an entire vegetarian menu available to me just made me laugh. When I awoke this morning, though, I knew I’d make getting some compromise-free, veggielicious food inside me top priority.

I’d been thinking about this dish of Spiced Sweet Potatoes and Chickpeas ever since Sara posted it last month on her blog Sprouted Kitchen. Sweet potatoes always seem so exotic to me (as far as American things can be exotic to a Canadian), because I never had them growing up. Equally exotic is the idea of roasting chickpeas, since I usually have them in curries or salads.

I simplified the flavours somewhat, opting to focus on the combination of ginger, lime and Eastern spices. Served on a bed of spinach and drizzled with a sweet and tangy coriander dressing, the result was the perfect antidote to yesterday’s sleight.

• Roasted and Spiced Chickpeas and Sweet Potatoes
• inspired by Spiced Sweet Potatoes and Chickpeas from Sprouted Kitchen
• serves 2-3
• Chickpeas and Potatoes
  1 cup soaked and simmered chickpeas (roughly equal to 1 x 400g can), rinsed and drained
  2 medium sweet potatoes, peeled and chopped into 1/2″ cubes
  1 tsp. ground coriander
  3/4 tsp. cumin seeds
  1 tsp. sea salt
  1 garlic clove, minced
  1 Tbs. minced fresh ginger
  zest of 1 lime
  juice of 1/2 a lime
  2 Tbs. olive oil
  
  Dressing
  2 Tbs. olive oil
  juice of 1/2 a lime
  1 Tbs. honey
  1/2 tsp. minced fresh ginger
  1/4 cup finely chopped spring onions
  2 Tbs. finely chopped coriander
  pinch of sea salt
  black pepper, to taste
  
  To serve
  several handfuls fresh spinach, rinsed and dried
• 1. Preheat oven to 200°C/400°F. In a medium-sized bowl, combine the chickpeas and chopped potatoes with the coriander, cumin, sea salt, garlic, ginger and lime zest. Drizzle over the lime juice and olive oil and mix well to coat everything.
  
  2. Spread the mixture into a rimmed baking sheet or shallow baking pan (if it’s on the small side, use two). Bake for 40 minutes, stirring halfway to ensure even browning.
  
  3. While the chickpeas and potatoes are roasting, prepare the dressing. Whisk together all ingredients in small bowl and set aside.
  
  4. When the chickpeas and potatoes come out of the oven, let them cool for ten minutes or so before proceeding- you want this to be warm, not hot. Serve over the spinach with the dressing drizzled on top, either individually or from a large platter.

My favourite breakfast treat is undoubtedly the scone. While some might go in for muffins, some for pancakes and some for waffles, to me there’s nothing better to eat (or bake) first thing in the morning than a crumbly, tender, buttery scone. Actually, I love scones at any time of the day. Sitting down to an English Cream Tea , a decidedly scone-centric activity, is one of my favourite things to do ever. But breakfast scones and teatime scones, at least in my opinion, are two different animals.

Discussing teatime scones always brings up the inevitable debate of plain vs. fruit. I stand firmly on the side of the former, and like my afternoon scones to be unsullied by raisins or other flavourings. A proper teatime scone is meant to be loaded with jam and clotted cream, and anything else just fights with those flavours. Sitting down to an afternoon tea, I’m always disappointed to find that an establishment favours fruit scones. And I have no qualms about leaving a small pile of picked-out raisins on the side of my plate!

Breakfast scones are another matter. Heartier, heavier and somewhat more exciting, they’ll happily play host to any number of additions. In mine, I like dried fruit, fresh fruit, nuts, peanut butter, cheese- it’s all good. Well, not all those things together (that wouldn’t be good), but you see where I’m going. With a breakfast scone, more is more.

My other scone-differentiating issue is shape. For teatime, I like traditional rounds made with a pastry cutter, which somehow seem more refined. For breakfast, though, I favour the humble wedge. Not only is it quicker and easier to make, but it just seems so pleasantly rustic. Perfect for breakfast. 

I hadn’t made any scones in a while when a friend tipped me off to this Deborah Madison recipe. It comes from one of my favourite cookbooks, Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone, so I knew it stood a good chance of being tasty. I was right: the texture of these, fresh from the oven, is divine. The cream makes them wonderfully light and tender, and though I normally prefer a richer, crumblier scone, these made a nice change. The flavour is great, too; the faintest touch of sweetness in the dough is punctuated by the pieces of spicy, sugary candied ginger. 

So, if you’re tired of your muffins, pancakes and whathaveyou, why not be British for a morning and try your hand at some breakfast scones? Oh, and one last thing- it’s pronounced “skon”, not “skoan”, no matter what time of day you’re serving them. 

• Ginger Cream Scones
• adapted from Deborah Madison’s Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone
• makes 6
• 1/3 cup finely chopped candied ginger
  1 cup plain flour
  1 tsp. baking powder
  1/2 tsp. ground ginger
  2 tsp. sugar, plus extra for sprinkling on top
  1/4 tsp. salt
  2 Tbs. (28g) unsalted butter, cut into 1cm pieces
  1 egg
  1/4 cup single cream, plus 1 Tbs. for later
  1/4 tsp. vanilla extract 
• 1. Preheat the oven to 200°C/425°F. Toss the ginger pieces with a small spoonful of flour to coat and stop them from sticking to each other. 
  
  2. Mix the rest of the flour with the baking powder, ground ginger, sugar and salt in a large bowl. Using your fingers, cut the butter into the flour mixture until it resembles coarse meal, and set aside. 
  
  3. In a small jug or bowl, whisk together the egg, 1/4 cup of cream and vanilla. Add to the flour mixture and stir until just combined. Fold in the ginger gently.
  
  4. Turn out onto a well-floured surface (it is a very sticky dough) and give it 8 to 10 kneads, just enough to bring it together. Pat into a circle about 1″ thick, and cut into 6 wedges. Place wedges on a parchment-lined baking sheet about 1″ away from each other, brush with the remaining cream and sprinkle with the rest of the sugar. Bake for 12-15 minutes, until golden. Cool slightly before serving.

I feel irrationally anxious about posting a recipe on this blog that contains meat. Now that I’ve announced to the world that I don’t eat it, you’d think I’d stand by that claim. To be fair though, I did say that my diet was largely vegetarian, not completely, and besides, I have a very good reason for this.

See, I love pancetta. I love its deep saltyness, love how it makes the flavour of any ingredient you pair it with come alive. They say that bacon is the one thing many vegetarians miss the most when they give up meat. Well, pancetta is my bacon of choice.

Perhaps coincidentally, (or perhaps not, seeing as I used to cook with it all the time), it’s also my boyfriend’s bacon of choice. So for Andrew’s birthday earlier this month, I bought 100g of pancetta at the supermarket, in order to make one of his favourite dishes. Of course the recipe (Shrimp and Beans by Giuliano Hazan- you must try it, it’s delicious) only called for half of that, and the leftover sat in the fridge for about a week while I fretted. Surely one meaty meal, for a loved one’s birthday, is forgiveable? But two? I wasn’t sure. But letting the remains go to waste- that’s got to be worse than eating it, right? In the end my desire for pancetta waste reduction won out, and I decided to use up the leftovers with this fried rice dish. 

Of course the rice here is not actually rice. I love this classic Chinese dish, but had been getting a little bored of it earlier this year. Ever since I saw this post from The Kitchn, however, I’ve fallen back in love. I love farro, the ancient grain of the Romans, and using it in place of rice makes perfect sense. Barely changing the flavours at all, the chewy, nutty grains simply improve the texture of the dish. 

The addition of the pancetta might seem odd at first. I’ve been doing this since high school, but I can understand how the addition of something so clearly Italian to a dish so obviously Asian might seem strange to some purists. But trust me: with the shrimp, vegetables and curry powder, this is fusion at its best.

• Curry Fried Farro with Egg, Shrimp and Pancetta
• serves 4
• 2 Tbs. neutral oil
  1 small onion
  1 bell pepper (any colour), cored, seeded and roughly chopped
  50g pancetta, chopped or sliced finely
  g raw shrimp, peeled and de-veined
  3/4 cup fresh or frozen peas (if frozen, defrost them first)
  1 tsp. minced fresh garlic
  2 tsp. minced fresh ginger 
  1 small red chili, de-seeded and chopped finely
  2 tsp. hot curry powder
  2 to 3 cups cooked farro
  2 eggs, lightly beaten
  2 Tbs. soy sauce
  2 Tbs. sesame oil 
  1/4 cup finely chopped green onion
  2 Tbs. finely chopped coriander
• 1. Once you’ve got everything mise en place, (which can take some time with so many ingredients, but is very worth it for a recipe like this!), heat 1 Tbs. of the oil in a large nonstick pan over med-high heat. Add the onion and pepper and cook for 5-10 minutes, until they soften and begin to brown. Transfer to a bowl and set aside. 
  
  2. Turn the heat up to high and add the pancetta. Cook for about a minute, then add the shrimp. When they are pink all the way through and the pancetta is getting crispy (about 1-2 minutes later), add the mixture to the bowl with the onion and pepper. 
  
  3. Briefly add the peas to the pan to warm them through, about one minute. Add to the bowl with everything else.
  
  4. Put the remaining oil in the pan and heat through. Add the garlic, ginger and chili, and cook for about 30 seconds. Add the curry powder, mix quickly, and then add the farro. Stir so that the farro gets evenly coated with the oil/garlic/ginger mixture. 
  
  5. After a minute or so, when the farro is warmed through, push it  to the sides of the pan so you have a space in the middle. Add the beaten eggs and leave to cook for about 30 seconds without touching them. Then start to scramble the eggs- you can either scramble them in the well completely, to leave more curds, or mix into the farro mixture, in which way they act like a thickener. 
  
  6. Add the veggies, pancetta and shrimp back into the pan, and stir to heat through. After a minute or two, stir in the soy sauce, sesame oil, green onions and coriander. Remove from heat and serve immediately. 

No, it’s not a typo. “Yummity” is my boyfriend’s highest form of praise for food, and these muffins I whipped up this morning were pronounced extra yummity by the critic himself. Well then.

Andrew spends four to five days a month working from home, and on those days, a home-baked breakfast is always in order. Usually scones or muffins, sometimes it’s a recipe I’m testing from a Kitchlit review book, sometimes it’s an old favourite, and sometimes, like today, I just open the cupboard in search of inspiration.

Today, however, I was met by dismally empty shelves. No fresh fruit in the fridge, no bananas on the counter, not even any inspiring jams, nuts or berries in my baking cupboard. I only had my spice drawer and the sad remains of a packet of dried apricots to contend with. Still, I wasn’t about to let that stop me.

I adore ginger in any of its forms- dried, fresh, candied. I had some ground ginger in the spice drawer, and figuring that was as good as any a place to start, I added some cinnamon, the apricots, some crème fraîche that was languishing at the back of the fridge (don’t worry- it was still good) and gathered them all on my counter. The resulting muffin is quickbread-y rather than cake-y, moist from the crème fraîche and sweet from the apricot. While the ground ginger and cinnamon gave a great flavour, next time I’d add some grated fresh ginger, as well, to up the spice factor.

• Apricot and Ginger Muffins
• makes 12 muffins
• 250g all-purpose (plain) flour
  120g caster sugar
  60g brown sugar (light or dark, I like dark)
  2 teaspoons baking powder
  1 tsp. ground ginger
  1 tsp. ground cinnamon
  1/4 tsp. salt
  142ml crème fraîche (greek yogurt or sour cream work, too)
  125ml vegetable oil
  1 Tbs. honey
  1/2 tsp. grated fresh ginger (optional)
  2 eggs
  200g dried apricots, cut into small cubes
  extra brown sugar for sprinkling
• 1. Preheat the oven to 200°C or 400°F. Line a muffin tin with papers if you aren’t using silicone.

  2. Mix together the flour, sugars, baking powder, ginger, cinnamon and salt together in a large bowl.

  3. In a jug or smaller bowl, whisk together the crème fraîche, oil, honey, fresh ginger (if using) and eggs, and then fold this mixture into the dry ingredients. Don’t overmix- you want it a little lumpy.

  4. Gently mix in the apricots and divide evenly between the muffin cases. Sprinkle a bit of brown sugar on the top of each muffin (about 1/4 tsp. for each).

  5. Bake for 18-20 minutes or until golden brown. (Mine were a little overbaked, but you don’t want to underbake these- they are best with a crunchy golden crust.) Cool on a rack and enjoy slightly warm.