gluten-free oatmeal chocolate chip cookies

We're awfully fond of Sesame Street around here.

Every morning, at 8 am, we turn on the television, find the kids' section from On Demand, and choose a Sesame Street episode. Should we watch Elmo learning salsa? Or Baby Bear trying to rid himself of hiccups? We three settle in on the couch, Lu on my lap, and watch the opening and sing.

Look, you have to know already that I'm a bit of a sap, right? Or maybe I prefer to say that I'm porous, still open to these touching moments that are easy to dismiss. I grew up on Sesame Street. Ernie and Bert, Grover, and Big Bird were my friends. They still are. I remember that magic world vividly — the ladybugs picnic with the ladybugs sitting around telling knock knock jokes; the guy with the pies falling down the stairs; the pinball cartoon that taught us how to count. (Lu counts up to twelve because of that cartoon. I'm convinced of it.) Sesame Street is part of how I learned to read so young. And now, Lu too.

Watching Sesame Street again with our daughter is knocking out Danny and me on a daily basis. It's not just that it's so brilliantly put together, and genuinely does teach kids at their level, but it's the heart of the show that moves us.

Keep trying, because it takes practice to get something right. Your neighbor may look different than you, but he has great stories to share. Sometimes our beloved pets and friends get sick, or die, and we have to be present to it. Elmo and his monster friends have a running race, but he falls near the finish line. Rather than running faster, his friends go back and pick him up, and they cross the line together, equals. I'm not kidding — every time we watch that moment, I get a little lump in my throat. (I told you I was a sap.) It seems, at times, there's not a lot of cooperation and fellow feeling in our culture right now. Once again, I find myself wishing that the world could be a little more like Sesame Street.



It kills me that Lu punches her fists in the air, reciting the alphabet, because one of the episodes of Sesame Street shows kids in a karate studio shouting out the letters.  She pretty much has them all, although E and N kind of confuse her, because they look so close to F and M. There's time. The repetition on Sesame Street keeps teaching her.

She cackles her 1 2 3, just like the Count. She clutches her Ernie doll to her chest when she sits in my lap, facing him outward so he can see the books I am reading to her. She loves Elmo as much as any child does. (For awhile, when she woke in the middle of the night and called out in her sleepy state, she called for Elmo before she did me. Thanks, kid.) His exuberance and Mr. Noodle make her grin wide and practice her jumping, just because they are there.

At the moment, one of Lu's favorite songs is from the Cookie Monster: "C is for cookie, that's good enough for me." She takes bites out of her toast and makes a C, then hands it to me so I can sing her the song. I bounce the toast up and down and sing, and she bounces her head from side to side, mock singing along with me. When I finish, she looks up at me and says, "Please? Again?" It's hard to resist.

Last week, I made us these cookies, just so she could have a cookie after she sang along.

I have this vivid memory of my late 20s, when I was living on this island, teaching high school and feeling alone. One day, home sick with the flu, I stopped my channel flipping when I got to Sesame Street. There was Big Bird and a clutch of small children, all races and shapes, on a bridge in Central Park, singing. "Sing. Sing a song. Sing out loud. Sing out strong." I burst into tears. I'm not entirely sure why. It was something about the memory of being a kid, of everything being possible, of that feeling of safety I enjoyed within the confines of that show. And sappy as it was, I think it was that moment when I realized I needed to start singing my song. I started writing seriously just after that.

How could I have known in that moment that I would stand on that bridge in Central Park many times when I lived in that city? That I would create my own feeling of safety in the world with friends from many places, of all races and shapes, who understand me? (I am so grateful.) That I would keep singing my song, finding new notes every day, including today, right here. Now.

How could I have known that I would be living on this island again, this time with Danny and Lu, not alone? And that at least 12 times a day, our daughter would look at me and say, "La la?" She claps my hands for me and asks me to sing. "Sing. Sing a song," I start singing to her and the sky. She sings with me now, in her small voice, growing louder. "Make it simple," she sings, enunciating every letter.

And every single time we sing that line — "Don't worry that it's not good enough for anyone else to hear. Just sing, sing a song." — every single time I get a lump in my throat. That's what I hope for her in the world. That she will sing her song and not worry if it's too loud, or too soft, or too strange, or too much the same of everyone else. I just want her to sing her song. 

Thank you, Sesame Street. All over again.





OATMEAL CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES, GLUTEN-FREE, adapted from The Grand Central Baking Book

These cookies are adapted from a recipe in The Grand Central Baking Book. Seriously, I don't know why this book didn't garner national attention when it was published. It's absolutely lovely. Not only are the recipes solid (and written in ounces, so we can adapt them with gluten-free flours easily!), but the book is strewn with good baking tips. I'm re-working my pie crust again based on Piper Davis' clear instructions for how to tackle the dough. 

Everyone who ate these cookies loved them. Everyone. Especially Lu. We did a lot of biting, then singing. "C is for cookie, that's good enough for me!" These cookies are more than good enough for me. They have a crisp outer edge, a chewy inside, and the surprise of both milk and bittersweet chocolate on either side of the mouth. We think you'll want to sing about them too.



7.5 ounces Aherns All-Purpose Flour
1 ounce gluten-free oat flour
1 ½ ounces sweet rice flour
1 teaspoon guar gum
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon fine sea salt

8 ounces (2 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 cup white sugar (we use unbleached organic)
1 cup packed brown sugar
2 large eggs, at room temperature
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
9 ounces rolled oats (make sure they are certified gluten-free)
6 ounces chocolate chips
6 ounces bittersweet chocolate, cut into chunks

Preparing to bake. Preheat the oven to 350°. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or a Silpat.

Combining the dry ingredients. Sift each of the flours into a large bowl, then stir in the guar gum, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. Stir well and set aside.

Creaming the wet ingredients. Put the softened butter and white and brown sugars into the bowl of a stand mixer. (You can also do this by hand.) Mix them together until they are combined well, lighter in color, and feel fluffy. Don’t forget to stop and scrape down the bowl to make sure everything is incorporated.

Crack one egg at a time and add it to the mixture, allowing the egg to be fully incorporated into the dough before adding the next one. Pour in the vanilla extract and mix well.

Finishing the dough.  Add the dry ingredients to the mixer, 1/3 at a time. Scrape the sides from time to time. Finally, add the two kinds of chocolate and mix. This you might want to do by hand.

Shaping the cookies. Scoop out 1 ½ ounce balls of cookie dough (or about the size of a ping pong ball, if you don’t want to be that meticulous). Form into a tight ball. Place all the balls of cookie dough on the baking sheet, then flatten them into ½-inch disks.

Baking the cookies. Slide the baking sheet into the pre-heated oven. Bake until the edges of the cookies are browned and the middle is just slightly underdone, about 10 minutes. (Rotate the baking sheet at 5 minutes.) Remove the baking sheet and allow the cookies to cool for at least 15 minutes before eating.

Repeat with the rest of the cookie dough.

Makes about 3 dozen cookies.

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would you like some recipes from our book?

Would you like some of this? It's seared shrimp with garlic almond sauce.

(It's especially good if you have Marcona almonds in the house.)



How about this? It's gluten-free pasta with lemons, anchovies, pine nuts, and olives.

(This particular shot, taken by the incredible Jen Yu, uses store-bought gluten-free spaghetti. However, we'll send you the recipe for the fresh pasta too, if you want it.)

The sockeye salmon wrapped in prosciutto is optional.




And these? These are peanut butter brownies, gluten-free.

(If you want a decadent and comforting treat, cut one of these brownies in half, spread on some great jam, and put them back together again. Peanut butter and jelly brownies.)

You could be making all of these tomorrow.

Want to know how?



All you have to do is make the food, take photographs, and tell people how much you liked them. 


Want to know more?

Send an email to glutenfreegirl2010@gmail.com. All will be revealed, shortly.

Addendum: Thank you to those of you who have written. So many! We're thrilled to think you'll be cooking from these recipes soon. A lovely young woman at our publishers is responsible for sending out the recipes from that email address. This morning she informed me that Gmail sent her a notice that she had sent so many emails they shut the account down, worried it was spam! It should be up again tomorrow. You'll all get your recipes within the week. Thank you for your patience!

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gluten-free baseball game

Hello, folks! It's Friday.

We've been trying to bring you new Danny videos on Fridays, and we will again next week. (Soon, he's going to show you how to flip food in the skillet without a spatula. You'll feel cool when you know how to do it.)

However, this morning we're racing around the house, trying to get ready. Today is the first day of the International Food Bloggers Conference, here in Seattle. I'm honored to be speaking on Sunday morning, in a panel on writing about specialized diets. (The talk is at 8:15, so most everyone will be sleepy. I have to practice my dancing to wake everyone up.) I'm thrilled to be meeting nearly 300 bloggers in the next few days. This afternoon, a number of us gluten-free bloggers are meeting up at The Flying Apron bakery, here in Seattle. Can you imagine the laughing and hugging?

On Sunday morning, Danny will be cooking a special lunch for the gluten-free folks: a three-course lunch composed of dishes from our cookbook. We're all pretty excited about that.

So, as you can imagine, it's a little busy around here this morning.

I just wanted to leave you with a few interesting facts before we go.

There was a fairly well-balanced, interesting article in the Wall Street Journal about gluten intolerance this week. Thankfully, some parts of the media are starting to understand that this is not a fad or a weight-loss scheme. I appreciate the national media pieces that teach and inform, rather than dismissing.


We want to say thank you to Nurit of 1FamilyFood for asking us to do this interview about our cookbook and our lives.

This one makes me so happy I can hardly say it. If you are in the Seattle area, you have to come to this. The Seattle Mariners, on Tuesday August 31st, are having a special gluten-free night!

There will be a special seating section just for the gluten-free folks and all the concessions in that section will have gluten-free foods: hot dogs with gf buns, gf beer, etc. When I was 11, I wanted to be the first woman in the major leagues. I still get a little shiver of a thrill when I go to the ballpark. We'll be there. We're taking Lu to her first game!


Finally, come on back on Monday for a special announcement. You might have fresh gluten-free pasta in your future soon.


While we wait for that, we'd love to know this: what are you cooking this weekend?

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gluten-free tomato tart

Lu and I were driving home this afternoon, in sudden warm sunlight. She had been at her two-afternoons-a-week daycare ("..coool!" she calls it), where she splashed in water and sat on a tricycle and longed to be able to pedal. Afterwards, we stopped at Danny's restaurant, where Lu ran to her daddy on the line, ate a corn fritter, got an apple from the kitchen manager, flirted with all of the boys, and waved to everyone else.

It was a full afternoon.

We were close to home, on that curve of a road we know so well now. She and I were talking about her day, in between verses of "Sing" from Sesame Street. (It's her first song. She looks at me about 52 times a day and says, "La la?" She claps my hands for me and makes me sing. She joins in with all the nouns, in tune.) The sunlight was clear and dinner was waiting for us at home.

Lu looked out the window, pointed, and said, "Farm stand."

"What did you say, hon?" I asked her.

"Farm stand," she said, pointing.

And that it was. We were passing the farm stand we visit at least three times a week. Through the winter, we buy celery root and parsnips and hope for spring. This time of year, we just go for the tomatoes.

"That's right, sweet pea. That's the farm stand."

She had never said that phrase before.

Danny and I love that our kid knows the phrase farm stand and she can point it out on the way home in the car. We love that she knows the taste of heirloom tomatoes, bursting at the vine with ripeness.

This time of year, ripe tomatoes are about all we need.

How You Can Join in Summer Fest:

So now it’s your turn: Have a recipe or tip that fits any of our weekly themes? Starting with our posts of Wednesday, July 28, for five Wednesdays, you can contribute in various ways, big or small.

Contribute a whole post, or a comment—whatever you wish. It’s meant to be fun, viral, fluid. No pressure, just delicious. The possibilities:

Simply leave your tip or recipe or favorite links in the comments below a Summer Fest post on my blog, and then go visit my collaborators and do the same.

The cross-blog event idea works best when you leave your recipe or favorite links (whether to your own blog or someone else’s) at all the host blogs. Yes, copy and paste them everywhere! That way, they are likely to be seen by the widest audience. Everyone benefits, and some pretty great dialog starts simmering.

Or think bigger: Publish entire posts of your own, if you wish, and grab the juicy Summer Fest 2010 tomato badge (illustrated by Matt of Matt Bites).

This week's Summerfest offerings: 

Nicole at Pinch My Salt: What to do with slow-roasted tomatoes

Alison at Food2: Heirloom tomatoes

The FN Dish: Tyler's Ultimate Tomato Salads

Margaret at A Way to Garden: More than one way to ripen a tomato

Gilded Fork: Celebrating summer lusciousness with a tomato dossier and recipes

Diane and Todd at White on Rice Couple: Sun-dried tomatoes (actually made in the sun!)

Paige at The Sister Project: 3 substantial, healthy, vegetarian tomatoey main dishes

Liz at the Cooking Channel: Easy Tomato Tart

Kelly at Just a Taste: Tomato Jam

Alexis at Food Network UK: The seven deadly tomato sins

Michelle at Healthy Eats: Top 10 Things to Do With Tomatoes

Caron at San Diego Foodstuff: Chunky Gazpacho

Marilyn at Simmer Till Done: Tomato Maytag Blue Beignets

Alana at Eating from the Ground Up : Roasted Green Salsa






Heirloom Tomato Tart with a Pecorino Crust, adapted from Ashley Rodriguez

My friend Ashley is hugely pregnant, in that awkward place where she just wants that baby girl to arrive, already. Most of us in that state? We're lying on the couch with a cold glass of water, a box of chocolates, and a tv remote in our hands. Ashley? She decided to enter a cooking contest at the Queen Anne Farmers' Market, which called for tomatoes. And of course, because she's Ashley, she won.

That baby girl has one cool mama.

Her heirloom tomato tart looked stunning. Because I know Ashley, I know it also tasted fantastic. I couldn't eat it, but I could try to make it. Ashley was kind enough to send me her recipe. Late this morning, we all set to work to make this: I made the crust in the food processor, Danny combined the goat cheese and basil then sliced the tomatoes, and Lu ate as many tomatoes as she could.

This was the best lunch of the summer. Make it, if you have great tomatoes on hand.

(Just a note for you on flours. I used almond flour in here, which I think adds a great texture and taste. However, since it's a nut flour, it has its own fats. I cut down on the butter for the tart and it turned out great. However, if you cannot use almond flour, be sure to raise the butter to 1/2 cup. Thanks.)

1 teaspoon fine sea salt
60 grams Aherns AP flour
40 grams fine almond flour
4 tablespoons (57 grams) unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes and chilled thoroughly
1/2 teaspoon guar gum
2 cups grated Pecorino romano (or Parmesan)
2 tablespoons ice water
225 grams soft chevre
2 tablespoons basil, fine chopped (take a look at this video for instructions on how to do this)
2 large, fat heirloom tomatoes (or 4 medium ones), sliced
2 tablespoons olive oil
great sea salt (we like this one for this tart)

Making the tart dough. Combine the salt, AP flour, almond flour, guar gum, butter, and romano cheese in a food processor. Pulse, briefly, until the butter pieces are roughly the size of peas. Add the first tablespoon of ice water and pulse. If the dough feels dry, add the second tablespoon. Do not add too much water. You don't want a wet dough. The dough should merely stick together when you pinch it between your fingers.

Tumble the dart dough out onto your tart shell. (We use a rectangular one like this one.) Press it into the pan with your fingers. Press all along the bottom, then push the dough up the sides of the pan. Make the dough uniform thickness. Chill it in the freezer for at least 15 minutes. 


Baking the tart. While the tart shell is chilling, preheat the oven to 375°. Prick the bottom of the tart shell with a fork, to prevent it from bubbling up. Bake for 15 minutes, then check to see if any part is puffing up. If so, use that fork again. Bake until the tart shell is brown and firm, about 10 more minutes. Pull the tart shell out of the oven and allow it to cool.


Finishing the tart. Mix the chevre and basil together, then spread it evenly over the bottom of the tart shell. Arrange the tomato slices over the chevre. Drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with sea salt. 


Eat.


Feeds 8.

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Lucini gluten-free chickpea frittata mix

We receive a lot of food via UPS in this house. Companies with good intentions send us their cookies or pancake mixes to make, hoping that if we like it, we'll tell you about it.

We don't tell you about most of them. In fact, I'd say 90% of the food we get ends up at the food bank or in the hands of friends. We're picky. We hope you know that means you can trust us.

Last week, a box of goodies arrived at the house again. At this point, I don't expect much.

This time, however, we want to sing it to you here. This box full of food made up part of Lu's dinners for the week, our pastas late at night, and is still drizzling on top of our risottos and flatbreads.

Lucini  imports foods from Tuscany to the United States. "Our passion is creating authentic, handcrafted gourmet foods inspired by the culinary traditions of Italy." Well, as you may know, Danny and I spent our honeymoon in Italy and we are still smiling at the memory of our meals. (I also sigh at how easy it was to live gluten-free there. We're still working for that here.)

One of our favorite bites of food during la luna di miele was a chickpea crepe. Now, granted, it was spread with truffle butter, rolled up and dolloped with chestnut honey, but still. It was outstanding. (Being with Judy Witts Francini as our food guide didn't hurt either.) Never having eaten anything like it before, Danny and I both talked about it for weeks. In Florence, or at least at the restaurant in Florence where we ate, that crepe was called cecina. In the rest of Italy it's farinata.

They make something similiar in the south of France, apparently. There, it's called socca. It's street food, cooked on big cast-iron pans, sometimes in wood-burning ovens, meant to be eaten immediately. David Lebovitz posted a recipe for socca on his blog last year and I have made it frequently after reading his guidance.

However, it wasn't until this week that I realized I have not been eating quite the same food as what we ate in Florence. I had to make it from a mix to have that Italian feeling again.

Lucini makes a farinata mix they call Cinque e' Cinque, which refers to the five cents the chickpea crepe cost on the street in the early 1900s. The chickpea flour is milled until it is extra fine. The flavors are wonderful -- bold without any musty bean taste. And the directions, specific and clear, yielded a great crepe every time.

My only note about the mix is that the instructions call for making a full batch and pouring that into a hot pan. We preferred pouring half the prepared batter into our hot cast-iron pan for a thin crepe that still had body, instead of a thick frittata. But that's no problem. You get twice as much mix for the same price!

Every Lucini food we tried was wonderful. The red sauces come in easy-rip pouches. With that kind of packaging, you'd expect them to be thin and tasteless. Instead, these sauces come roaring out, full tomato slow simmered with good olive oil and salt. Pasta was easy and delicious this week.

The Lucini olive oils taste of olives warmed by the sun. And we loved the fig and walnut balsamic vinaigrette.

We will definitely be buying these mixes on our own. That's why Danny and I feel comfortable recommending them to you. We think you'll love them too.

Of course, they're all gluten-free.

The good folks at Lucini were thrilled we wanted to tell you about their foods. They will send a box full of sauces and oils, plus a few versions of the Cinque e' Cinque mix to one lucky reader here. Just leave us a note about why you'd like to try these foods and we'll pick a winner at random this weekend. Also, you can enter a contest to win a year's worth of free Lucini foods by clicking here.

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