Pizza

People may forever debate whether pizza is Italian, but there can be no doubt that it is American. One poll last year reported that “For Americans, pizza lands in the number one spot as the ultimate comfort food.” But if you were to ask, “What is pizza?” you’d get as many answers as respondents.

This, to my mind, is a good thing. It’s what makes pizza so popular. It’s also what makes pizza so easy and affordable to create from scratch at home. You don’t need a specific recipe with exact ingredients. You don’t even need a ratio with proportions of various toppings. All you need is some dough, a couple handfuls of garnishes, and a way to cook it. If you have a sourdough starter, the dough is in the bag—or should I say, jar.
Learn to make Sourdough Pizza Dough and Thin-Crust Pizza

Sourdough Pita

Some form of flatbread practically defines most food cultures: pizza for Italy, naan for the Middle East, lefse for Norway, tortilla for Mexico, injera for East Africa, pita for the Mediterranean. Many are unleavened, made with a simple mix of flour, water, and salt. But some use yeast, and my favorites start with a sponge or sourdough.

Pita is one flatbread that only gets better—and easier to make—with the addition of sourdough starter. It works as well with a weak starter awakening from a long sleep as with a lively one. Plus, pitas are fun. As a kid, my mom bought pita halves to build “pocket sandwiches” for school lunches and roadtrips. If I’d known that baking pitas puff up like pillows, I would have insisted that Mom make them from scratch. My niece and nephew did just that—and then insisted on eating them whole, even though each pillow was as large as a plate. Learn to make Sourdough Pita Bread and Pita Chips

Sourdough Breakfasts

When most people think of sourdough, they picture a bread loaf with a crackling crisp crust and moist, tangy interior. But when you play with sourdough, you quickly discover bread is just one of many possible creations—and not necessarily the easiest.

My sourdough adventures began a couple of years ago, when I was gifted an old starter that had been lurking in a refrigerator. It didn’t have the rising power necessary for a loaf of bread; it required strength training. As I noted last week, the process of feeding a starter works like this: Pull out some starter, replace it with flour and water, and then let it work its magic, repeating the process until it readily ferments, bubbles, and grows. But I was loath to throw away weaker starter. Fortunately, a range of low-rise treats grab all the flavor with little effort.
Learn to make Sourdough Pancakes and Sourdough Waffles

Sourdough Starter

Long before I started baking my own bread, I craved sourdough. But I had a lot of misconceptions about the process. So for years, I baked yeast breads. I learned along the way that a dough hook on a standup mixer might prevent sore arms but at the cost of dense, inconsistent loaves. I also discovered yeast can be quite unforgiving to overproofing: leave the house during the rise time, and you’re sure to come home to a collapsed, flat mess. But I imagined that sourdough would require daily care—and consumption.

Then I was gifted a starter and took a shot at becoming a sourdough baker. I’d also been reading about no-knead breads and was intrigued by the idea of making loaves by hand without sore fingers. A bit of research, a bit of practice, and my delusions about sourdough evaporated like the liquid in a baking loaf. Learn how to find and care for sourdough starter

Winding Down the Year

What a fabulous first Twice as Tasty year! As 2016 ends, I want to briefly look back at what’s been done since the blog’s launch last June and even share a few of the things to come.

This is the 37th post on the blog. Twice as Tasty now includes nearly 60 recipes and some additional 20-plus pages that apply a range of techniques to preparing, storing, and eating well all year. These have been going out each Tuesday to more than 150 email subscribers and Facebook followers. The 40-plus members of the companion Facebook group have been busy asking questions about and sharing the results of their food adventures.

Offline, Twice as Tasty has been feeding concertgoers and yogis, participating in food swaps, trying new recipes and techniques, and taste-testing with friends and family. I am grateful for everyone’s support and participation. And I’m so excited to share more in the coming year. Read more about what’s in store for 2017

Potatoes

Potato salads are a summer staple, whether I’m making them from jawbreaker-size potatoes stolen from row edges while checking the potato plants’ progress or full-grown spuds cut down to size. They go beautifully with summer’s green beans, cherry tomatoes, and sugar snaps. But we grow so many storage potatoes that it seems a shame to give up the salads just because the other fresh produce is long gone. This version uses stored veggies, making it a late-season or even midwinter go-to. The salad itself is quite basic, and a few unconventional techniques make it a snap. Inspired by traditional salads I ate regularly as I traveled in Russia and France—salad Olivier and salade niçoise, respectively—I’ve created two dressings that bring distinctly different flavors to the forefront; I sometimes alternate between the two salad dressings for several weeknight meals.
Learn to make Potato Salad with Russian and French Dressings

Quick Breads

As a kid, I loved the shape of muffins; breaking the cap from the base was my version of twisting open an Oreo. These days, I prefer quick breads for one reason: the freezer. A stack of zucchini, pumpkin, banana, and cranberry breads takes up far less space than the same four batches of muffins. Besides, toasting is the only way to reheat; a microwave is just not the tool for defrosting baked treats. If you have a toaster oven (which I recommend for many reasons), there’s no bread vs. muffin argument. But if you’re a traditional toaster owner—well, you can imagine the mess of slicing a frozen muffin to fit.

Fortunately, you can easily convert your favorite muffin recipe to a loaf: They’re the same product, just in different pans. Even better, you can base them on a ratio and change the flavors to match your mood or the season. Learn to make Ratio Quick Bread and Quick Cranberry Bread

Made with Love

I’m a perennial giver of food. Whether it’s for a holiday, at an event, or just because someone expresses random interest in something I made, I can’t help myself: I have to gift a jar or bag of homemade goodness.

I love receiving food too, but sometimes even I—someone who processes hundreds of jars a season, dehydrates and freezes, ferments and smokes—am hesitant to open a gifted jar. These are usually the ones that have perhaps a single word on the lid identifying the contents. No date, no maker, and no suggestions for putting it to use. These jars often work their way to the back of my canning shelves, hiding behind the familiar and loved. It makes me think some of my gifts go just as astray. So I’ve devise a way to change that—and I’m gifting my idea to you.
Read more about gifting food

Christmas Cookies

In one way only, it’s like a box store at my house: the day after Thanksgiving, we’re prepping for Christmas. If Thanksgiving was my grandmother’s holiday, Christmas was Mom’s. As it approached, we dragged box after box of decorations from under the stairs and distributed their contents around the house. Every room was adorned, and multiple trees, including one that brushed the ceiling, sagged under handmade, generations old, and otherwise treasured ornaments. Then the baking began.

When laying out cookies for their chief eater (Dad, aka Santa), my sister and I struggled to limit ourselves to a small plate. Choices included painted cutouts, thumbprints, Berliner kranzer, butter spritz, and gingerbread biscotti. Two that I never fully appreciated until I was older—Vanilla Bean Cookies and Chocolate Rum Balls—are now my annual contribution to the array. I make them after Thanksgiving so that they fully develop their flavors by the big day. Learn to make Vanilla Bean Cookies and Chocolate Rum Balls

Nearly Perfect Pie

I had an amazing grandmother. From the time I was 12, Grandma Tiny lived just down the road—where she remained until she died at 104. My sister and I stopped in every day after school. For someone who ate few sweets, she took her grandmotherly duties seriously: the cookie jar was always full (usually of snickerdoodles), and holidays received sugary attention.

Thanksgiving was her party. Every year, the family descended. We extended both pullouts on the dining room table, yet it was so crowded an adult was still relegated to a card table in her sitting room with my sister, cousin, and I. Turkey was the mainstay, but even before I became vegetarian, the rest of the spread dominated my plate. My favorite was “dressing”; the several types couldn’t all fit within the bird and be accurately called “stuffing.” I would douse them with my mom’s homemade cranberry sauce and go back for seconds. But like everyone present, I always left plenty of room for apple pie. Learn to make Nearly Perfect Pie Crust and Apple Crumble Pie