Zabaglione Gelato

It's warming up! In New England, that means the hens are laying again. They quit when it gets too dark in the winter. You would, too.

All those eggs means it's also time for gelato. Break out that ice cream maker!

Despite its incredible richness, gelato is a cream-less ice cream, favored in Italy but found just about everywhere these days. All that richness? Egg yolks. Lots of egg yolks.

Unfortunately, North American milk production results in less cream (or fat) in the milk. (No, the whole milk in the carton is not how it comes out of the cow. It's richer au naturel.) Italian whole milk runs over 5% cream; ours, somewhere around 4.2%. So to get the right texture, we have to add a little cream. Cheat, as it were.

Here's a gelato fashioned on the famous Italian dessert: zabaglione, made with eggs and Marsala wine. Zabaglione is crying out to be morphed into gelato, don't you think? 

You'll also want to start practicing your gelato technique now to be in good shape for the summer. You'd hate to come up short when your friends are watching.

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Honey Granola

In THE ULTIMATE COOK BOOK, we concocted a "road map" for granola--that is, a basic formula into which you can plug ingredients at will. For example, under the sweetener, our road map tells you to add any of the following: honey, maple syrup, unsweetened apple juice concentrate (thawed), sweetened cranberry juice concentrate (thawed), cane syrup, Lyle's Golden Syrup (a chip for the Brits), or agave nectar. Combine that with all the other choices in the road map and there are about a zillion recipes for granola, give or take five.

Which means Bruce never makes it the same way twice. Which means I can say nothing definite, unlike as to matters of theology or politics. But just yesterday he cooked up a new batch, so here's how he did it this time:

He divided the oven into thirds with the racks, got the thing heated up to 350F, and spread 9 cups rolled oats on them (no instant oats, only the real thing). He popped them into the oven--perky, no?--and toasted the oats for 10 minutes, switching the trays around halfway through to make sure the oats toasted evenly.

He set the oats aside, then warmed 1 cup honey and 1 cup canola oil in a medium saucepan over medium-low heat until the mixture started to steam. He stirred in 1 1/2 tablespoons vanilla extract and set that aside.

Next, he mixed the following in a large bowl: 3/4 cup chopped almond pieces, 3/4 cup wheat germ, 3/4 cup powdered non-fat dry milk, 6 tablespoons dark brown sugar, 1 tablespoon ground cinnamon, and 1 teaspoon salt.

In truth, you could swap those nuts for others: walnuts, pecans, cashews. (No salted version of any, of course. Blech.) And there are lots of spices you could add here in dribs and drabs: ground cloves, ground allspice, grated nutmeg. You could also use wheat bran instead of germ. It's all a matter of taste. Like love. Only a tad more exacting. (Or perhaps I've said too much.)

He poured the toasted oats into the big bowl and gave everything a good stir. Then he poured in the oil mixture, stuck his (cleaned!) hands in the bowl, and tossed up the whole thing, crumbling up any brown sugar that got balled up with the oil and making sure the goodies were evenly distributed in the oats.

He sprayed the trays with nonstick spray and then divided the oat mixture among them He stuck the loaded trays back in the oven and baked them for 10 minutes. Now for the tedious part: he pulled the trays out one by one, stirred everything on them with a metal spatula, and stuck them back in the oven in a different arrangement ("bottom rung on top," as we say in the South) to bake for another 10 minutes.

When the trays were out and again on a wire rack, he divided 3/4 cup golden raisins and 3/4 cup dark raisins among them, stirred everything one more time, and let them cool to room temperature, about 1 1/2 hours. He broke it all up and put it in a big container for breakfasts many mornings, while I sip my bowl of coffee and read up on theology and politics.

Kamut Meatballs in an Herb-Laced Tomato Sauce

Okay, we'll admit it: this is a long recipe. But it's getting on toward winter in our part of the world, and we're hunkering down. The maple leaves are down; we've cut the squishy, frost-bit hostas out of the garden. We light fires after our dinner parties. So it's high time for comfort food!

Here's a traditional if over-the-top recipe for three-meat meatballs, laced with organic Kamut bulgur to add lots of whole-grain goodness to the mix. (More on that concept in the recipe.) The meatballs are roasted, then dropped into a rich sauce, stocked with veggies, tomatoes, and herbs.

We've had this dish two nights in a row. (It makes a lot but leftovers are a dream.) We'll bet you do, too!

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Oat Apple Crisp

As you know, our whole-grain book GRAIN MAINS is all about main courses--no baking, no side dishes. No whole-grain flours, to be honest. (You can find it at amazon, barnes & noble, or from independent sellers.) But believe us: we stil like our desserts--especially whole-grain ones! And it is apple time, after all. So it's high time to make an apple crisp, to get some whole grains after the meal, not just in it!

We made a double batch to carry to book group today, but the recipe here is for a singleton. If you've got a big paella pan as we do, then double up! Otherwise, here's the recipe.

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Spicy Millet Salad with Corn and Peanuts

You know we preach the gospel of whole grains. Yes, we've got the book on GRAIN MAINS, just out. (Look to the right for it.) But really, our devotion is more than a mere cookbook. It's personal, too. And a story we've never told.

About two years ago, one of us had a health scare: a scary colon matter, more than a polyp, with a 100% chance of its turning into cancer. It was removed--and we're all the better for it. But we started eating more whole grains--partly because the health professionals encouraged it. Brown rice at first, mostly because we didn't know much better. Then wheat berries. Maybe wild rice, too. We started by putting them on the side of the plate--with that pat-of-butter cliché.

But something happened: those whole grains were so darn delicious, we wanted more. And more kinds. We started moving them to the center of the plate. Bye bye, pat of butter. Hello, some of the most satisfying main courses we've ever created.

Then something else happened: because of the way whole grains interact in the body, both of us ended up losing over ten pounds each, despite heaping platefuls--that is, by eating MORE, not less.

Ahem. Great taste, good health, weight loss. Convinced yet? Dig in to this freebie recipe, adapted from our new book:

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