These bars were a peace offering for Mr. Hausfrau. Baked with love and sprinkled with obedience, an apology of sorts, this was a dessert baked exclusively for him (and the blog, but whatevs) to make up for all the other desserts that have come out of this kitchen and he categorically hated. A favorite that could be traced back to his childhood, influenced by his German-born father and grandmother, I knew he’d gleefully devour these.

So, I arranged these on a pretty little plate and placed them on the kitchen counter, squarely at eye level. When I heard the garage door open, I scurried into the kitchen, shifting foot to foot, as I waited for the moment he walked in the door, and I could theatrically point out the plate of Linzer Bars.

Lest you think I’m a perfect housewife, let me stop you right there: I hadn’t fluffed my hair. I hadn’t touched up my lipstick, and I didn’t take a moment to make sure my dress was nary a wrinkle.

I was wearing sweatpants. But at least they were clean.

(My hair wasn’t.)

As he made his way into the kitchen, I did the great reveal, waving the plate under his nose. His face lit up. Then it fell.

“Can you save those for another day? I’m trying to lose a few pounds. . . .”

(F*cker.)

And then he proceeded to eat 3 in the next hour.

So does that say something for these bars? I dunno, but you’ve got a buttery, nutty crust sandwiching a dense lemon-tinged raspberry filling. In my book, they’re worth ruining a diet.

Better yet, just finish them all off. The diet can start tomorrow.

Linzer Bars

1 cup hazelnuts, toasted
1 cup flour
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon cloves
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 stick butter
1 cup raspberry jam
1 teaspoon lemon zest

Preheat the oven to 350. Line a 8 x 8 pan with foil, allowing extra to overhang on two sides and create handles for easier removal of the bars once cool.

In a small bowl, whisk together the raspberry jam and lemon zest. Set aside

Place the hazelnuts into the bowl of a food processor. Pulse until the nuts are coarsely ground. Add the flour, cinnamon, cloves, salt, and brown sugar in the bowl of a food processor. Pulse a few times until the mixture is combined.

Cut the butter into 8 chunks and add it to the flour mixture. Process until the dough is soft and starts to come together in large crumbles. Remove half the dough and press it evenly into the bottom of the foil lined pan. Spread the jam mixture evenly over the top. Sprinkle the remaining dough over the jam.

Bake 25-30 minutes. Allow the bars to cool completely before removing them from the pan and slicing.

Yield: 16 bars.

There are many reasons why I’m jealous of the folks who live in California: random celebrity sitings without their makeup, beautiful weather and beaches, great shopping, and, most of all, Cafe Gratitude. I see this place mentioned on blogs and Instagram and each consecutive picture is like a knife in my heart.

Cafe Gratitude, with several locations, none of which are anywhere closer to me in Maryland, is this lovely little cafe that serves vegan and raw foods that are good for the body, community, and soul, with groovy names like:

I AM ELATED
Enchilada in a live tortilla with a sprouted seed filling, topped with spicy mole, cashew sour cream and scallions.  Served with spicy Mexican coleslaw

Could you die? I mean, it’s like you went to sleep and woke up living in an Anthropologie store, complete with retro-chic toothpaste holders and indie-printed shams.

I’ve even been inspired to create my own menu for a similarly-themed restaurant. I shall call it Cafe Craptitude. Here’s a sampling:

I AM SHAMELESS
a bed of cool greens, topped with a scoop of our secret recipe chicken salad, garnished with queso dip and Captain Crunch berries

I AM CRANKY AND BLOATED
A base of house-made ripple cut potato chips, smothered with warm chocolate fondue and dusted with flaked coconut and candied peanuts. Biscoff served on the side, as requested.  Perfect size for sharing, but why?

I AM OH, DON’T EVEN GO THERE
A Funfetti cake milkshake, topped with cream cheese frosting, peanut butter cups, chocolate cookie crumbles, and caramel popcorn.  Served in a rhinestone-crusted feeding trough.

I AM MAKING UP FOR A FEW DIETARY TRANSGRESSIONS
Raw spinach on a plate. Deal with it.

I know the menu could still use a few tweaks, so for now, I’ll just look to the Cafe Gratitude cookbook for guidance. This Cashew Date Shake was one of my saner moments of recipe tweaking. It’s so darned perfect and spa-like – zen for the tummy and yoga for the spirit. And it’s probably best I stick with that.

Soothing Cashew Date Shake
(Adapted from I am Grateful: Recipes and Lifestyle of Cafe Gratititude)

1 cup almond milk
1 tablespoon cashew butter
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon, plus more for garnish
3 medjool dates, roughly chopped
5 ice cubes

Place all ingredients in the blender and blend until all items are pureed. Garnish with more cinnamon, if desired. Serve immediately.

Serves 1.

My first experience with the mythical Lofthouse sugar cookie was a mere 2 months ago.

I had spent the day shopping in Northern Virginia, traipsing from mall to mall, spice store to cheapie, cool, home store. I had a car loaded full of cosmetic, fashion, and prop hauls. I began the drive home, peaceful and exhilarated, envisioning the unwrapping of goodies that would begin after the hour ride home.

Approximately 30 minutes into the ride, the zen-like state had dissipated, replaced by a feeling that can only be described as being effing hungry. And thirsty. And cranky because I’m hungry and thirsty.

I knew that I’d be coming home to a house of 3 excited dogs and 1 inquisitive husband. They’d want to hear all about my travels and insist I pet them, rub their belly, throw the ball.

In my current state of mood, I would have levitated. So I needed to stop for a snack, like, real soon. I stumbled into the first grocery store I came across and 2 minutes later came out with a diet soda the size of a bucket and a plastic box of those pink frosted cookies I’d heard so much about.

While I have no recollection of the remaining ride home, I arrived in my driveway in a glassy-eyed state, crumbs in my lap, and distant aching in my jaw. Oh, and a resolve to make a batch of my own copycat cookies, with a list of ingredients I could pronounce.

I took my inspiration from the many Lofthouse-style cookie recipes floating around the internet and blog world, opting for shortening instead of butter. Because I recall a straight on cakey vanilla cookie with a sugar wallop that made my ears ring but no buttery notes.

This version is soft and cakey, vanilla-scented and sweet, reminding me more of a birthday cake, hence the name. They don’t pack the wallop of those Lofthouse cookies, but then again, I don’t miss the toothache of those Lofthouse cookies either.

Birthday Cake Cookies

(adapted from Recipesecrets.net)

1/2 cup shortening
1 cup sugar
1 egg
1 egg yolk
1 tablespoon vanilla
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
2 1/2 cups flour (plus more for rolling)
3 tablespoons buttermilk powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup water

Frosting:
1/4 cup butter, softened
1/4 cup shortening
1/8 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons vanilla
3 cups powdered sugar
3 tablespoons milk
food coloring, if desired

In a small bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, baking powder, buttermilk powder, and salt.

In a large bowl or in a stand mixer, beat the shortening and sugar on until fluffy. Add the egg, egg yolk, water and vanilla. Beat until the mixture is well-combined. On low speed, add the dry mixture and beat just until the dough starts to come together. Continue stirring the mixture until no streaks of flour appear.

Form the dough into a flat disc, wrap it well in plastic wrap, and chill it for at least 2 hours.

When ready to bake your cookies, preheat the oven to 350.

Sprinkle your dough and rolling surface liberally with flour. Roll the dough to a 1/4 inch thickness and form desired shapes with a cookie cutter. Bake on a parchment paper lined sheet for 10-12 minutes, until the cookies are set and just beginning to brown. Transfer the cookies to a cooling rack and cool them completely before frosting.

For the frosting: Beat butter and shortening until fluffy. With the beater speed on low, add the powdered sugar 1 cup at a time. Add the salt, vanilla, milk, and desired food coloring and beat until the frosting is light and fluffy. Spread the frosting on the cookies.

Yields approximately 26 cookies.

You know what’s really boring? Banana bread. That you made because you have 3 rotting bananas on the kitchen counter. Again. Even though you bought those bananas when they were so green they glowed in the dark and you were convinced that they’d get eaten in enough time instead of sitting a lonely black eyesore next to the fruit basket, upstaging the heirloom tomatoes.

You know what ISN’T boring? That same banana bread, baked for the same reasons as stated above, in a bundt pan. Nope, that automatically becomes a coffee cake. Jazz hands, optional.

It’s also bisected by a cinnamon coffee swirl and finished with a similarly flavored glaze that has been eloquently drizzled along this cake’s voluptuous crown, ending in articulate rivulets on your plate.

Who could argue with glazy rivulets of icing? Not this girl. Particularly because they’re articulate and thus certain to outwit me.

This bundt is brilliant, that’s for sure. Can I get an amen? Or at least put that phrase on a bumper sticker. I’d buy it and let everyone else guess the euphemism and giggle lavishly because there’s no euphemism. I’m talking about an honest-to-goddess bundt cake!

You may want to buy some bright green bananas today, so you have rotten bananas in time for this weekend, and you have a beautiful Banana Java Spice Swirled Coffeecake in time for mother’s day. Your family will think that you’re brilliant and they’ll finally be able to rest easy. And thank goodness. Because some years – it’s been a little touch and go.

Banana Java Spice Swirled Coffeecake

1 1/2 cup flour
1 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon instant coffee
1 egg, beaten
1/3 cup oil
1/3 cup maple syrup
1/3 plus 1 tablespoon cup agave syrup,
1/2 cup milk
1 tablespoon vanilla
3 very ripe bananas, mashed

1/2 cup powdered sugar
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
3/4 teaspoon instant coffee
3 tablespoon milk
1/2 teaspoon vanilla

Preheat the oven to 350. Grease and flour a bundt pan.

In a small bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt.

In a large bowl, mash the bananas until no chunks remain. Whisk in the egg, oil, maple syrup, 1/3 cup agave syrup, 1/2 cup milk and 1 tablespoon vanilla.

Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients and mix until well combined. Remove 1 cup of the batter to a small bowl. To this batter, add 1 tablespoon cinnamon, 1 tablespoon agave, and 1 teaspoon instant coffee. Stir until well combined.

Spread 1/2 of the banana batter into the bundt pan. Spoon all of the cinnamon batter evenly over the banana batter. Top the cinnamon batter with the remainder of the banana batter. Bake 35-45 minutes, until a cake tester comes out dry. Allow the cake to cool completely before removing it from the pan and finishing it with the glaze.

To make the glaze, in a small bowl, whisk together the powdered sugar, 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon, 3/4 teaspoon instant coffee, 1/2 teaspoon vanilla and 3 tablespoons milk until smooth. Pour the glaze over top of the cake and allow the excess to drip down the sides.

Serves 10-12

With the weather heating up and summer just around the corner, you’re gonna want a mason jar of this bisque standing in the fridge.

Yes, right there, next to the creamer. You’ll see it every morning you reach in to doctor your coffee, glistening and proud, so you don’t dare forget about the bisque.

But please don’t dare use it in your coffee. That may taste weird.

In case you’re concerned you’ll be slaving over a pot all day, toiling over this soup – don’t worry. This soup is completely raw. You’ll just throw a few things, like fresh tomatoes, basil, water, and soaked cashews, into the blender and a whizzing you will go.

You’ll certainly stick your spoon into the blender before you transfer the soup into a storage jar, and you’ll be pretty surprised at how gosh-darned GOOD this soup is. And easy! Who knew? Of course, you’ll be tickled by how fresh and light this is, too.

Maybe it’ll change how you view soup-making. I’m glad I could play such an integral role in your culinary evolution.

Oh, and if you’re fortunate enough that you can just pluck a few tomatoes of the vine in your backyard – all the better.

But I’ll be a little jealous. So don’t mention it, okay?

Chilled Tomato Bisque

3 cups chopped fresh tomatoes, de-seeded
1/4 cup raw cashews, soaked 4 hours
1/2 cup water
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 clove garlic
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 teaspoon agave
2 tablespoons fresh basil, roughly chopped

Place all the ingredients in the blender and blend 2-3 minutes, until creamy. Serve immediately or store in a tightly covered container 3 days in the refrigerator.

Serves 3-4

Vanilla cupcakes are my litmus test when judging a bakery.

I don’t care how many little cakes are in the case with their saucy little frosting hats, I’m getting a vanilla cupcake, stuffing it in my pie-hole and if it’s good, only then will I proclaim the bakery worthy. And proceed to order 5 other kinds of cakes and cookies, polished off with a bottle of Tums.

I’d make one heck of a food critic.

So, a few weeks ago, I was in Bethesda, Maryland with Mr. Hausfrau when I came across Georgetown Cupcake and THERE WAS NO LINE.

I proceeded to beat Mr. Hausfrau about the arm as I stuttered and puffed and tried to explain to him why I was dragging us suddenly to the other side of the street. Jaywalking, no less.

When we arrived at the door, I was finally able to force out “Cupcakes. They’re famous. Do you want one?”

Would you believe he said no?

Of course you would. Because he’s a boy and boys don’t have hormones that dictate to them MORE SUGAR, MORE FAT, MORE CARBS, NOWNOWNOW.

If it was a roasted turkey leg, he’d have been all over it.

Yuck.

Who puts frosting on a roasted turkey leg?

So, anyway, I went, I ate, and I died.

I’ve had my share of vanilla cupcakes, even “famous” ones like Magnolia and Babycakes NYC but this one took the prize. The cake was tender and light but the frosting was what sugar-crusted dreams are made of. It was so sweet and vanilla-y, creamy, buttery, and downright billowy.

I walked down the street beside Mr. Hausfrau stuffing every last crumb into my mouth, licking the wrapper and my fingertips, moaning in rapture. On one hand, Mr. Hausfrau was pleased that it seemed all he had to do was walk beside me to make me moan. Talk about swagger. On the other hand, I had a big glob of frosting on the tip of my nose, and I think he was embarrassed. I wasn’t. In fact I was happy I had some saved for later.

With the litmus test passed but our feet having taken us too far and too fast down the street to go back to Georgetown Cupcakes to buy more, I decided to recreate the cupcake at home. I come home with steely determination. I googled, I brainstormed, I shopped. And I created my own mouthgasm cupcake, with an ode to Georgetown Cupcakes frosting and a nod to spring.

This cupcake is sweet, tender and buttery, made at least 135 times better with strawberries in the batter and the frosting. Yes, yes, and yes. Because fresh strawberries are local and in season right now. Who am I to fight with the Locavore movement? So go support your closest farmstand, buy a bunch of berries, and make a few cupcakes, okay?

Strawberry Cupcakes
(adapted from Martha Stewart)

1 cup fresh strawberries, pureed and divided
1 1/2 cup flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup milk
1 tablespoon vanilla
1 stick unsalted butter, softened
1 cup sugar
1 egg
2 egg whites

2 tablespoons reserved strawberry puree
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
6 ounces cream cheese, softened
4 cups powdered sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon almond extract

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Line a 12-cup muffin tin with paper liners.

In the bowl of a food processor, puree the strawberries until no chunks remain. Transfer the pureed strawberries to a small bowl and remove 2 tablespoons of the pureed strawberries to a separate small dish (this will be reserved for the frosting).

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, salt, and baking powder. In a small bowl, whisk together the milk and the bulk of the strawberry puree. Set aside.

In a large bowl or the bowl of a stand mixer, beat the butter until light and fluffy. Add the sugar and beat until well combined. Add the egg, egg whites, and vanilla. Beat until the mixture is just combined.

Add half of the dry mixture and beat until the batter just starts to come together. Add the milk mixture and beat until the batter just starts to loosen up. Add the remainder of the dry mixture and beat until the mixture is just blended and no streaks of flour remain.

Fill the prepared muffin tins just less than 2/3 full with the batter and bake 25 minutes. Allow the cupcakes to cool completely on a wire rack before finishing them with frosting.

For the frosting: Beat the butter and cream cheese until light and fluffy. Add the powdered sugar, one cup at a time and continue beating. The mixture will be seem very thick but it will loosen as you continue beating. Once all the sugar has been combined, add the strawberry puree, vanilla extract, and almond extract and beat until the frosting is fluffy.

This salad is good.

So good, in fact, that I’d like to eat it off my impeccably clean floors.

Do you know what’s so funny about that statement?

The part about the impeccably clean floors.

Hee, hee. Ho, ho. Aaaaaaaand, never.

Do you know what’s even funnier?

Every time I shoot photos of food for this blog, I give Max the deep meaningful voice and hairy eyeball to prevent him from even stepping one little paw into the room where the so-called magic happens. Of course, for this salad, my everlasting awkwardness happened and I spilled. Next, my insufferable laziness kicked in. I immediately called for Max, my little living, breathing Hoover. And he stood at the threshold of the dining room.

“Come on baby Maxie, come here!”

Stood there.

“Baby boy! Mama has some yummies for you!”

Stood there. Tilted the head. Stood there.

“Look! Look!” I pointed like a mad woman at the pile on the floor.

And Max still stood there, no doubt convinced that the bitch was setting him up like a DC mayor. Then he walked away. And I stomped into the kitchen for a rag so I could clean the floor like a normal person. Ugh.

Maxie-Babybear sure did miss out. Juicy pineapple, nutty corn, and creamy black beans, tossed with basil, mint, citrus, and a few other essentials. The husband deemed it refreshing. The fact that he even deemed it palatable means that it’ll please your pickiest eater.

Think picnic, potluck, brunch, cookouts, or just dinner for the family. It’s versatile and keeps well – one night we had it as a taco stuffer, another it was a salad. The next night we had carry-out, but it wasn’t my fault. It was the 4 cupcakes I needed to taste test throughout the afternoon, which subsequently rendered me nearly unconscious and in no mood to cook dinner.

I encourage you to make a big batch of this and play with the various ways you’d like to eat it. And if you’d like to eat it off your own floors, I hope you mop more frequently than I do.

Pineapple and Black Bean Salad

3 cups pineapple, diced
1 (15-ounce) can black beans, rinsed and drained
1 cup corn kernels
1/2 cup red pepper, diced
1/3 cup red onion, minced
2 tablespoons fresh mint, chopped
3 tablespoons fresh basil, chopped
1 tablespoon lime juice
1 teaspoon agave syrup
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 teaspoon salt

In a large bowl, toss all the ingredients together. Refrigerate at least 1 hour before serving. Will keep for at least 3 days in the refrigerator.

Serves: 6-8 people

You’re gonna need your fat pants for these.

These bars are nothing short of gluttonous, with an overabundance of sugar, fat, and carbs.

Nutter Butter cookies sandwiched between a thick and rich peanut butter cookie foundation and a sweet, dense white chocolate blondie covering.

This is chick food here.  Boys will look at this and scratch their head, unable to comprehend.  Most likely due to their shortage of estrogen.

Nutritionally, there is no redemption here. In fact, don’t even use that word in the same sentence with these treats.  Nutrition or redemption.  Take your pick

They’re bad.  So bad.

So bad that who the eff cares about ever being right.

So bad that when you’re cutting these ever so carefully into evenly-sized squares, you’ll trim away every crunchy-chewy edge of the end pieces for the sake of “a beautiful presentation.” But you’re SO going to eat every last crumb-y edge you’ve just trimmed away.

And then you’ll look at your perfectly cut bars and realize that a couple of them look crooked.  So you’ll trim a bit more.  And eat those scraps.

Then you’ll decide that the squares are just too big.  More trimage.  More scraps in the belly.

Who cares if the neighbors see you in the window, hanging over the sink, head back, as you shove a few more crumbs and dribbles in your mouth.  Just give them a friendly wave and get back to business.  Let them get a kick out of you searching your cleavage for a couple stray bits. They haven’t tasted these bars.  They just don’t know.

Because if they knew, they’d be checking your cleavage from crumbs, too.

White Chocolate Double Nutter Butter Blondies 

Peanut Butter Layer:

6 tablespoons butter, melted
1 cup brown sugar, packed
1/2 cup creamy peanut butter
1 egg, beaten
2 teaspoons vanilla
1 cup flour
1/8 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt

16 Nutter Butter Cookies

White Chocolate Layer:

8 ounces white chocolate chips
1 tablespoon vanilla
1 stick butter
1/3 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 cup flour
3/4 teaspoon salt

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Line a 9×9 pan with foil or parchment paper, allowing for the foil or paper to overhang and create “handles” for easier removal once cooled.

First make the peanut butter layer – In a large bowl, beat the melted butter and brown sugar until creamy.  Add the peanut butter and continue mixing until blended.  Add the egg and vanilla.  Beat just until combined.  Fold in the flour, salt, baking soda, and baking powder. Stir until no streaks for flour appear.

Spread the peanut butter mixture into the bottom of the lined pan.  Evenly spaced, arrange the Nutter Butter cookies into the top of the batter and press gently.

Make the white chocolate layer – In a medium bowl, combine the white chocolate chips, vanilla, and butter.  Working in 30 second intervals, heat the mixture in the microwave on high, stirring after each interval, until the chips are 80 percent melted.  Continue stirring a few minutes until the chips are completely melted and the mixture is thick.  Beat in the sugar, followed by the eggs, until well combined.  Fold in the flour and the salt until no streaks of flour appear.

Evenly spread the white chocolate mixture over the Nutter Butter Cookie layer.  Bake 30 minutes.  Cool completely before removing them from the pan and cutting them into bars.

Yield:  16 bars

Thank goodness for April being National Grilled Cheese month.

Because I finally found a use for the jar of fig butter that has been collecting dust in my pantry.

I bought it during a pumpkin butter buying frenzy at Trader Joe’s this past Fall. As I loaded those prized umber jars into my cart, I spied the fig butter and said why the heck not.

I’ll tell you why not: I don’t like figs. I don’t think Mr. Hausfrau does either. Probably. Given that he can’t get past sweet potatoes, figs haven’t even come up in conversation.

I want to like figs. I’ve tried hard to like figs. I’m at the point that I can handle them if I know they’re in there but I can’t find them. It’s the overall sweet seediness of them just freaks me out. Plus they don’t taste like much of anything to me, which is further creeptastic.

This grilled cheese sandwich is a case of the “I know they’re there but I I can’t find them.” Even though it’s quite apparent where they are if, duh, you look at the picture. Hello, dark stuff. But, it’s not like there’s big hunks of seeded, stringy sweet stuff to dodge. And thus my heart can go on.

On a side note, if you know what to call my condition, besides unfounded neurosis, lemme know.

And back to the sandwich – it’s quite good. Good enough that I made a repeat of it. It’s a crispy toasted exterior and a soft interior filled with that glossy, thick fig butter, nutty melted cheddar, and that peppery arugula. YES, THAT ARUGULA. Frankly, it’s all about the arugula. Always.

Dear Arugula,

Thank you for being so awesome and not weird like figs. You kinda almost allow me to sneak in a veggie serving when I stuff you into the sandwiches I then stuff into my pie-hole.

LYLAS,
Sally

Arugula and Fig Grilled Cheese

2 slices bread
scant 1/2 cup arugula
1/2 cup cheddar cheese, shredded
1 1/2 tablespoons fig butter
olive oil

Heat a skillet over medium heat.

Brush one side of each bread slice with olive oil. Spread the opposite side of each bread slice with fig butter. Using 1/2 of the shredded cheddar cheese, arrange the shreds on one fig-covered bread slice. Press the arugula into the cheese. Cover with the remainder of the cheese and finally press the over fig-covered bread slice over the sandwich.

Heat the sandwich until it is toasted on each side and the cheese is melted. Serves 1.

Here are the top 2 reasons why this Chickpea Tagine, a decidedly cold-weather themed dish, came out of my kitchen last week, nearly midway through April:

1. It was cold in Baltimore last week. I’m talking FAH-REEZING. Parts of the area had hail falling. I packed away all my winter clothing, like a chump, weeks ago. No matter how many tank tops I layered underneath my sassy summer-weight parka, I couldn’t get warm. So I stayed in most of the week, shuffling around the house in the lone winter ski jacket still hanging in the closet. I looked kinda weird walking to the mail box in capris and a puffy jacket. But then again, my neighbors should expect nothing less from me.

2. I recently won an olive giveaway from Country Cleaver and I have olives a plenty. Don’t get me wrong, I love olives. (Say that aloud. Isn’t that clever? Shoot me.) But you can only toss them into salads for so long before it gets mighty boring. I needed to really MAKE something with my olive bounty.

3. Did I say there were 2 reasons? I just remembered another one. I have a very large, rather obnoxious bag of prunes in my pantry. No matter how many prunes I pinch from the bag for a recipe here and a recipe there, those shriveled things keep multiplying. I need to put the bag on birth control. But in the meantime, like the olives, I really needed to MAKE something with my prune. . . investment.

So, this tagine happened. And what I really like about this tagine is that a good 75 percent of this can be made from things you likely have on hand in your pantry. It’s a good way to throw something together when your refrigerator is barren.

And if you don’t have an ingredient on the list, you can likely sub what you do have. No mint in the fridge? Use cilantro or parsley. Don’t have prunes? Use apricots. Don’t have apricots? Use raisins.

Don’t have raisins? Who are you?

Just order takeout, okay?

Chickpea Tagine
(adapted from The America’s Test Kitchen Healthy Family Cookbook)

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
3 (3-inch) strips lemon zest
2 tablespoons lemon juice
5 garlic cloves, crushed
2 1/2 teaspoons paprika
2 teaspoons garam masala
4 cups vegetable broth
1 tablespoon agave syrup
1 pound carrots, peeled and sliced 2 inches thick (1 inch thick for thicker carrots)
1 (15-ounce) can chickpeas, rinsed and drained
1/2 cup pitted green olives, rinsed
1/2 cup pimento stuffed green olives, rinsed
1 cup prunes, chopped
1/4 cup fresh mint, chopped

In a large pot or dutch oven, saute the onions in the olive oil until the onions are translucent. Add the lemon zest and continue cooking until the onions are browned. Stir in the carrots, garlic, paprika, garam masala and saute until fragrant and the mixture is well coated in the spices. Add the broth, agave, chickpeas, olives, and prunes. Bring to a boil and reduce the heat. Cover the pot and allow the mixture to simmer 30 minutes until the tagine has thickened and the carrots are tender but still hold their shape.

Remove the mixture from the heat. Remove the lemon zest strips. Stir in the lemon juice and chopped mint. Serve with your favorite grain.