With a bushel of apples from our pick-your-own adventure, I’ve been creating a few apple recipes.

I’m currently serving on a jury and I brought in this bread one morning last week to share with my fellow jurors.

It is not very sweet, the buttermilk is palatable, and there is a subtle, surprising fusion of sugar and salt. At least that was my interpretation.

The other jurors simply said, “Mmmm.”

Apple Buttermilk Bread or Muffins

Adapted from 101 Cookbooks, a great recipe/wholesome food blog

Preheat oven to 400F degrees, racks in the middle. Grease and flour muffin tins if you’re making muffins or a loaf pan if you’re making bread. (Parchment paper also works for the loaf pan.)

Combine the flour, baking powder, and sugar and salt in a large bowl. In a separate smaller bowl whisk together the eggs and the buttermilk, whisk in the melted butter, and add the lemon juice. Pour the buttermilk mixture over the flour mixture and stir until just combined - try not to over mix. Batter will be lumpy.

Spoon the batter into the prepared pan, pushing out toward the edges. Now place the apple pieces across top. It’s okay if they overlap a little, but try to cover the entire surfaces of the bread/muffins. Sprinkle with the large grain sugar and then the salt. Bake for about 25-30 minutes or until cake is set (or a toothpick in the center comes out clean), and a touch golden on top. Muffins may take a bit less depending on their size. My yield was one shallow loaf pan (perfect for snack-sized slices for 12 angry men 9 happy jurors) and 6 medium-to-large muffins.

Can you tell I love Larabars?  This is after I recieved a great package last Christmas.

I think this was enough to last me through… January?

My favorite thing about each flavor of Larabar is the simplicity of ingredients.  Take Pistachio: Dates, Pistachios, Cashews.  Period.

Or Banana Bread: Almonds, Dates, Unsweetened Bananas.

Even a more complicated-sounding flavor such as Key Lime Pie: Dates, Cashews, Almonds, Unsweetened Coconut, Lime Juice Concentrate.

Lovely.  And tasty!

Organic Coconut Milk is incredibly handy to keep stocked in your cupboard. It deepens the flavor of both savory and sweet dishes, particularly recipes that don’t have much fat from other sources.

Sometimes recipes call for lite coconut milk, which in many cases is simply regular coconut milk plus water. Why pay the same amount for a can of lite coconut milk when I can add water on my own? A ratio of 1:1 with water works well as a substitute for lite coconut milk.

You may often only use half a can of coconut milk for a particular recipe. I transfer the remainder into a glass jar and keep it in the fridge for up to a week. In that time I can almost always find another use: a meat or vegetable curry, a bread or muffin or scone, a lentil or bean dish… the possibilities are limitless.

I was the crazy girl walking down the sidewalk at lunchtime today.

After eating a delicious and nutritious salad, chock full of veggies, chickpeas and kidney beans, I was still a little bit hungry.  Not hungry in the truly physical sense, but more like: “I want something else, something satisfying, something to keep me going until dinner, something sweet, something exciting.”

Does this ever happen to you?

As I walked down the block contemplating what else I could buy, I had an amazing revelation.  This morning I had thrown a pomegranate in my purse as I was leaving because I hadn’t had time for breakfast and it was the first thing I saw in the fridge.

One organic pomegranate that had cost me a mere $1.01 at the food co-op.

So, walking down the block in the afternoon sunshine, I ripped it apart, dyed my fingers red, and savored deliciousness.  I got a lot of stares.

So yes, I was the crazy girl.

When I throw a party, I like to label the foods in the spread. On a basic level, this communicates to everyone what the foods are (which is especially appreciated by any guests with allergies).

Moreover, labels are a convenient way to show off to your friends certain ingredients or recipe techniques. Certainly not everyone cares enough about food/cooking to do this, but in a circle of friends where crystallized orange peels and homemade crackers could be impressive and/or interesting, labels are good to use.

With labels, you don’t have to spend the party repeating yourself over and over, or trying to remember to tell someone that the dip has ham in it –whoops, too late– is miraculously vegetarian.

Having previously professed my love of salsa, it should come as no surprise that, to me, chips are often a mere vehicle to transport salsa from bowl to mouth.

Sometimes, though, I crave chips for their inherent goodness.

Garden of Eatin’ has many delicious varieties of chips.  Sesame Blues are my favorite for non-dipping because they are flavorful and nutty.

The ingredients are: organic blue corn, expeller pressed oleic safflower and/or sunflower oil, organic sesame seeds, sea salt.

It worries me somewhat when ingredient listings include “and/or.”  But in the case of Sesame Blues, I’ll conveniently overlook it.

There are two types of people: those who view salad as something to eat because it’s healthy and those who love salad.

I truly love salad. Good salad.

Some friends of my future in-laws, Pat and Beth, spent a year traveling the world before they settled down and had kids. Beth, an avid vegetable eater, nearly went crazy. As soon as they arrived in a new country, Beth learned the word for “green” in the native tongue. At each restaurant she pleaded to the server, “Green! Green!” in hopes that a plate of vegetables would arrive.

Here’s a fun twist on Caesar salad dressing. I think it appeals to both salad types.

Balsamic Caesar Salad Dressing

In a glass measuring cup, combine vinegar, mustard, and anchovy paste and mix with a fork. Bring a small saucepan of water to boil. Add egg and boil 45 seconds. (No more!) Take out with slotted spoon. Rinse with cold water and crack egg into the mixture. Mix well. Whisk in olive oil with a slow, steady stream of olive oil. Coat salad greens, tossing well. If desired, add grated Parmesan and toss again.

I fell in love with tamarind in Vietnam in 2005.

The fruit is hard to describe.  Imagine a pea pod that is hard, brown and crisp dry; inside is fruit the consistency of raisins held together by several fibrous strings that run from one end of the pod to the other.

Doesn’t sound very appetizing does it?  It is in fact quite tasty.  And like many things, it’s made even more exciting (and shelf-stable) when the inner fruit is extracted and fortified with sugar, salt and chili.  Some batches have more chili than others.  Some bites have more chili than others.  That’s part of the fun.

Lucky for me, Pearl River Market sells this delicacy for just $1.60.  Of course, in Vietnam the same portion would probably cost 2000D or $0.13.  But the plane ticket would be a little more than the difference.

We’re standing outside the Korean deli, deciding which flowers to buy.

Will points to a pink bouquet.

I point to these.

“Green?” he says quizzically. “That’s the last color I’d pick.”

Well, I love them. And I think they’re growing on him, too.