The first granola bar I ever tasted came from a natural foods bakery in Oakland.  It was a tempting combination of chewy bar cookie and enough crunchy whole grains to make me feel virtuous about the indulgence.

I bought them whenever I could until the store that carried them went out of business.  I pined for something similar but no other commercial granola bar has even come close.  Most are hard bricks that taste little better than sawdust and are suited only for emergency rations in my book.

Recently, though, I’ve been working on my own recipe, prompted by a hike with a friend who was working very hard to make her calories count.  Not for her the chocolate chip cookies I usually bring along on hikes, even though they’re loaded with oats and granola, too.

For Sara, I came up with something new — a whole wheat blondie packed with as much good granola as possible without losing the moist, chewy foundation. (more…)

Once upon a time, the Blenheim apricot reigned supreme in the sprawling orchards of Santa Clara Valley.  Today, however, apricot trees have been displaced by suburbs and production of this fragile, intensely flavored fruit is so small it has been included in Slow Food’s Ark of Taste alongside New Town Pippin apples and Sun Crest peaches.

Large commercial growers in other areas can’t be bothered with such a delicate variety of fruit.  The amber skin is tissue thin, bruises easily and freckles with sunburn. The season is over in the blink of an eye.

Yet the flavor is exquisite, with undertones of honey balanced by a delightful touch of acid. The soft, ripe flesh is so juicy, it drips down your chin as you eat. (more…)

Now that summer is here at last, it’s time to post one of the best and easiest dessert recipes I’ve encountered in years.

This is my take on the Eton Mess, a typically understated British name for an ethereal concoction of berries, whipped cream and crisp meringues.  The original has been served at the upper class British boys’ school for which it is named since at least the 1930s.  Some people theorize that it’s called a mess because all the ingredients are just stirred together before being plopped into a serving dish. (more…)

One of the things I miss most about working in Silicon Valley is the bounty of great ethnic eats served in little strip malls scattered around the south end of the Bay.

Now, if I crave a really good bowl of ramen, say, or a pita filled with crunchy falafel, I have to make a special trip over the hill or figure out how to make my own.  I’ve decided to pass on making ramen — the perfect noodle has eluded far better cooks than I.  But falafel definitely seemed worth a try this spring when I was stuck indoors on too many cold and rainy days.

While I was at it, I decided I might as well see if I could bake my falafel rather than fry them.  (more…)

I grew up eating biscuits.

After my mother went back to work, they started with a box of Bisquick more often than not.  But she had the proverbial light hand and her biscuits always came out of the oven fluffy and tender with a golden crust that crunched ever so slightly at first bite.  We frequently ate biscuits as shortcake when strawberries were in season.

Sadly, I didn’t inherit my mother’s delicate touch and have always used a food processor to make biscuits — until now. “Southern Biscuits,” by Nathalie Dupree and Cynthia Graubart (Gibbs Smith, 2011), gives such clear and detailed instructions on the gentle art that my handmade biscuits almost meet my mother’s standards today.  And as much as it pains me to admit, they’re far lighter than anything I’ve ever made in my trusty Cuisinart. (more…)