how to be neighborly

Our neighbors define neighborly.

Miss E rarely bakes without bringing us a sampling. She'll hand it to me with a comment like, "I just didn't want you to think I hadn't done anything today."

This week was no exception. She showed up on our doorstep with this antique china cakestand full of little Orange Cakes. Frankly, I would have delivered them on a paper plate or maybe even wrapped in aluminum foil. But not Miss E. She goes the whole nine yards.

I knew at first glance that these little gems would melt on contact with tastebuds.

Luckily, Miss E had the foresight to know the next words out of my mouth would be, "May I have the recipe?" So before I could ask she was reaching into her pocket to pull out a handwritten copy saying, "I thought you might want the recipe."

So neighborly.

To make Orange Cakes like Miss E's:

Use a recipe like this. Then soak 1.5 cups raisins in the juice of one fresh orange for at least 30 minutes. Spread the soaked raisins evenly across the bottom of your pan and pour the prepared batter over them.

Miss E says it's best to let them sit for a day to fully absorb the orange flavor. "But," she says, "that's if you can keep your hands off them until then. We never can."

And Husband and I couldn't either.

like a silk brocade on the desert floor (a lesson in garam masala)

For supper last night, we tried the Indian Butter Chicken that made Katie Goodman's (of The Good Life Eats)  top five favorite dishes list.

In the process, I learned about the basic Indian spice blend Garam Masala. It basically translates an intense, pungent mixture. Not spicy hot; spicy intense. Not fiery like a pepper; but pungent like a dozen silk sarees against a dirt wall. It has a piquancy both delicate and bold. Flavors that would totally interrupt the dish if they didn't fit it like a fine glove.

The spices in this blend can vary from black & white peppercorns, cloves, Malabar leaves, long pepper, cumin, cinnamon, cardamom, nutmeg, star anise, and coriander

depending on the region and the cook.

We bought the McCormick brand, since that's all our little South Carolina grocer had to offer. It was delicious, but I imagine it was also a bit culturally appropriated so as not to shock my all-American tastebuds. I'm sure the most authentic versions can get downright racy.

Find the recipe here.

(I used Canola Oil Butter to keep it less cholesterol-ridden, and Husband gave it the I-can't-tell-you-lightened-it stamp of approval.)

fresh cherry sandwiches

Sliced Brie

Fresh Cherries

Baby Spinach Leaves

Toasted Almond Slivers

Multi-Grain Sourdough Bread

All pan-grilled until the spinach wilts just slightly, the brie melts, and the bread toasts to a nice, clean surface crisp.

The best winter sandwich ever.