Get Thee to a Bunnery

Let me tell you about a little place called The Bunnery.

Two summers ago, when Roger and I were in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, we decided to grab breakfast at a local restaurant just off the Town Square called The Bunnery. The line spilled out onto sidewalk, but their breakfast came highly recommended, so I couldn’t pass it up. As we know, when it comes to breakfast, I don’t mess around.

When we finally snagged a table, I opened the menu and discovered I was in breakfast heaven. There was the Bunnery Benedict, the Teton Breakfast Burrito and, among other things, several items with the letters “OSM” in front of them: OSM pancakes, OSM waffles, OSM bread.

Come to find out, OSM stands for “oats, sunflower, millet,” a blend of grains that has become The Bunnery’s signature. I love whole grains; I love breakfast. As soon as I discovered what this OSM business was all about, all I could say was “Sign me up.”

I ordered the OSM pancakes, and they kiiiind of rocked my world. I also tried Roger’s OSM toast, which was pretty great too. Later, I discovered that aside from their pies and their breakfast, the rest of The Bunnery’s offerings were a little “feh,” but the OSM goodies placed me firmly in the pro-Bunnery camp.

At the checkout counter, I saw that The Bunnery sells an OSM pancake and waffle mix, but I figured I’d do one step better; I’d buy their cookbook and make some OSM treats of my own.

Unfortunately, the only OSM recipe in the whole cookbook is for their OSM bread, and the recipe is a little verkakte. However, determined to recreate the OSM bread at home, I fiddled with the recipe and think I’ve come up with a pretty excellent rendition. It’s soft, slightly sweet and wholesome, with a lovely crust.  It’s also a good keeper and will last on the counter top for a number of days — that is, if you don’t finish it in a single sitting.

Oat Sunflower Millet Bread (OSM Bread)

This bread is great served warm for breakfast, slathered in butter or covered with some fresh apple butter. It is also perfect for making sandwiches, and it makes some stellar toast.

2 1/4 cups lukewarm water
1 package (2 1/2 teaspoons) dry active yeast
1/2 cup honey
1/2 cup canola or safflower oil
1 1/2 tablespoons salt
1/2 cup rolled oats
1/4 cup sunflower seeds
1/4 cup millet
2 cups bread flour (or all-purpose flour)
3-4 cups whole wheat flour

Mix together the lukewarm water and honey in a large bowl or the bowl of a stand mixer. Sprinkle the yeast over the top and stir until dissolved. Allow the yeast to proof for 5-10 minutes, until the yeast rises to the surface and starts to foam.

Stir the oil into the yeast mixture. Then add 1 cup of bread (or all-purpose) flour and 2 cups whole wheat flour and beat with a wooden spoon or the paddle attachment until the batter is smooth and glossy. Cover the bowl and let the dough rest for 20 minutes.

Add the salt, oatmeal, sunflower seeds and millet to the bowl; stir down the dough and blend in. Add the remaining cup of bread flour and stir well. Gradually add in the remainder of the whole wheat flour. When the dough becomes too stiff to stir, turn out onto a lightly floured counter and knead for about 10 minutes (or, switch to the dough hook on your mixer — this will take less time), until the dough is soft, but not sticky. Place the dough in a large bowl that has been oiled, cover and allow to rise until doubled in bulk, about 1 1/2 hours.

Grease two 9″x5″ loaf pans and line with parchment paper, allowing the parchment to hang over the longer sides of the pan (this will make it easier for you to lift the loaves out of the pans). Punch down the dough and knead lightly and briefly to deflate. Divide the dough in half and form each half into a loaf, and place a loaf in each pan. Allow the loaves to rise until doubled, about 45 minutes.

About 20 minutes before you bake, preheat the oven to 350°F. Bake the loaves for about 40 minutes, until the loaves are nicely browned and sound hollow when tapped (the internal temperature should be around 200°F). Allow the loaves to cool in the pans for a few minutes, then lift out of the pans using the parchment paper and let them cool completely.

Yield: Two 9″x5″ loaves

Keeping it Simple

I still remember the worst apple dessert I’ve ever eaten. It was an apple “cobbler” at the restaurant next door to my apartment, and it was truly hideous.

Roger and I were both surprised at how terrible this dessert was because the restaurant itself is decent — your typical burger/salad/sandwich joint, with surprisingly excellent dinner rolls and occasionally interesting soups. So we figured dessert was a safe bet. After all, who can mess up apple cobbler?

Well, apparently this restaurant can. Aside from the fact that they put strawberry ice cream on top (we’ll let that one go for now), the taste fell somewhere between “medicinal” and “metallic.” How they accomplished this feat, I do not know. But I do know that we have never — ever — ordered dessert there again, despite the fact that we go there a few times a month.

What’s funny is that you don’t have to do much to apples to make them taste good in desserts. Sure, a little brown butter here, a little spice there, but less is usually more. The more you throw into the pot, the more the apples start tasting like a pile of spicy goo, rather than something sweet and honey-like.

Historically, my favorite apple tarts have been those along the lines of the tarte tatin — the apples bare and exposed, not overtaken by the caramel flavor but melding with it — that is, until I made this Alsatian Apple Tart. Here, the apples are bathed in a mellow vanilla custard and encased in a sweet buttery crust. There are no spices, no competing flavors, just the tender apples, soft custard and crisp crust.

Oh, and did I mention it’s also a snap to make?  You don’t even need to roll out the tart crust; you can just dump the raw dough right into the pan and press it up the sides (thank you, Dorie Greenspan).  When a delicious apple dessert is this easy to make, one wonders why an entirely repellent one would show up anywhere.  As long as a bad one never shows up in my kitchen, I guess I can’t complain!

I should also note that the so-called “Breakfast Series” will return soon — I just couldn’t resist posting this tart recipe. 

Alsatian Apple Tart
Adapted from Dorie Greenspan’s Baking from My Home to Yours

Sweet tart dough
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup confectioner’s sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 stick plus 1 tablespoon (9 tablespoons; 4 1/2 ounces) very cold (or frozen) unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
1 large egg yolk

Filling
1 pound medium sized sweet apples, such as Golden Delicious (3-4)
3/4 cup heavy cream
6 Tb. sugar
1 egg
1 egg yolk
3/4 teaspoon vanilla extract

Glaze
1/2 cup apricot preserves
2 tablespoons warm water

To make the crust:
Put the flour, sugar and salt in the bowl of a food processor and pulse a few times to combine. Scatter the pieces of butter over the dry ingredients and pulse until the butter is coarsely cut in — some pieces will be the size of oatmeal flakes and some will be the size of peas. In a small bowl, stir the yolk, just to break it up, and add it a little at a time to the flour mixture, pulsing after each addition. When the egg is in, process in long pulses — about 10 seconds each — until the dough, which will look granular soon after the egg is added, forms clumps and curds. Just before you reach this stage, the sound of the machine working the dough will change, so pay attention. Turn the dough out onto a work surface and, very lightly and sparingly, knead the dough just to incorporate any dry ingredients that might have escaped mixing.

You can now press the dough right into the pan. Butter a 9-inch fluted tart pan with a removable bottom. Dump the dough into the pan and gently press it along the bottom and up the sides, using all but one little piece of dough, which you should save in the refrigerator to patch any cracks after the crust is baked. Don’t be too heavy handed. Prick the crust all over with the tines of a fork and freeze the crust for at least 30 minutes, preferably longer, before baking.

Partially bake the crust. Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 375ºF. Butter the shiny side of a piece of aluminum foil and fit the foil, buttered side down, tightly against the crust. (Since you froze the crust, you can bake it without weights.) Put the tart pan on a baking sheet and bake the crust for 25 minutes. Remove the foil and allow the crust to cool to room temperature before proceeding with the recipe.

To make the filling:
Preheat the oven to 375°F. Peel, core and slice the apples into 1/4″ thick slices. Layer the apples concentric circles on the bottom of the crust, beginning on the outside and working in. In a 2-cup or 4-cup measuring cup with a spout (for easy cleanup), measure out the cream, then add the eggs, sugar and vanilla and beat together with a whisk or fork. Pour on top of the apples, being sure not to add to much custard; the cream mixture should come just below the rim of the crust. Place the tart on a baking sheet and bake for 50-55 minutes, until the apples are tender when pierced with a knife and the custard is golden and set (it shouldn’t jiggle much when the tart pan is shaken). Allow to cool completely.

To glaze the tart, whisk together the apricot preserves and warm water, and strain the mixture through a seive. Using a pastry brush and a gentle hand, brush the warm glaze over the apples (but not the custard).

Yield: 6-8 servings

Creamy Comfort

There are probably three foods that, with a single bite, can transport me back to my childhood à la “Ratatouille”: scrambled eggs, buttered macaroni and, perhaps my favorite, hot Cream of Wheat cereal.

The first two of those foods I instantly associate with my grandmother. I now know it was her generous use of butter that made the scrambled eggs and macaroni so memorable. After all, gobs of fresh butter will make pretty much anything taste good. Of course my memories, much like Anton Ego’s, are wrapped up not just in the food but in the experience of eating that food: sitting at my grandmother’s kitchen table, having her listen to my seemingly endless monologue, feeling like prettiest, most interesting girl in the world. Thankfully I had a younger brother who would keep that developing ego in check.

But Cream of Wheat, that I associate with my mother. She’d whip up a big pot on fall and winter weekends, doling out generous bowls for my brother and I, topping them with swirls of maple syrup and some milk or a pat of butter. My brother and I would fiendishly stir the toppings into our cereal while my parents read the weekend paper, and we’d dive in eagerly with our spoons. To this day, I still think of those mornings with even a single taste of that velvety, maple-scented porridge.

I’ve often thought of Cream of Wheat (also called farina) as a poor man’s breakfast polenta, since it has the same silky texture as its corn-based cousin but cooks more quickly due to its finer consistency. So when I saw a drool-worthy recipe for breakfast polenta with maple and mascarpone, but noticed that it required almost 30 minutes of cooking (way more time than I have on a weekday morning), I decided to give the recipe a whirl using Cream of Wheat instead.

And boy am I glad I did. A small dollop of mascarpone gives the cereal a touch a richness without making it too rich, and as far as I’m concerned, maple and farina are a perfect pair.

When it comes to childhood comfort foods, you can never be sure if it’s the reassuring familiarity that makes the food taste so damn good, or if it’s the food itself. In this case, I think it’s a little of both. I was bound to love this recipe, given its provenance. But my English husband’s eyes opened wide like saucers when he tried a spoonful for the first time, which makes me think that even if you never ate Cream of Wheat as a child, you’ll love this too.

Cream of Wheat with Maple and Mascarpone

I’ve given instructions for a single serving, but essentially, just follow the instructions on the back of the box for 2 or more servings, using half milk and half water. This would probably also be great with some toasted pine nuts or pecans.

1/2 cup milk (whole, low-fat or skim will all work)
3/4 cup water
3 tablespoons Cream of Wheat (“2 1/2 Minute” — NOT instant) or farina
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/2-1 tablespoon mascarpone (to taste)
1/2-1 tablespoon maple syrup (to taste)

Pour the milk and water into a small saucepan and place over medium heat and add the salt. Bring the mixture almost to a boil (but don’t allow it to come to a full rolling boil).

While whisking constantly, add the Cream of Wheat to the milk mixture in a steady stream. Reduce the heat to low and let the mixture simmer for 2 1/2 minutes, stirring occasionally to prevent lumps from forming. Remove from heat.

Pour the cooked cream of wheat into a bowl. Spoon a dollop of mascarpone on top of the cereal and drizzle with the maple syrup. Stir to blend, and enjoy!

Yield: 1 serving