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Lee Gomes at the Wall Street Journal has it right: American cookbook publishers should start listing weights next to ingredients, not just volume measurements. Publishers argue that American cooks typically don’t own kitchen scales, so why include these measures? To which I say “Balderdash!” Most serious home cooks do own electronic digital scales, and if they don’t, so what? Cooks who don’t want to ditch their measuring cups can rely on the more imprecise volume measurement, while those of us who revere our scales can follow the weight measurements.

One important point Gomes alludes to in his essay but doesn’t spell out is why ingredient weights deserve, well, more weight in the kitchen. It’s this: a cup (or a tablespoon or a “pinch”) isn’t always a cup, a tablespoon, or a “pinch.” It’s why your cereal box includes the message, “Sold by weight, not volume” or warns “Settling may occur.” A recipe tester’s measuring cup might be slightly bigger than the measuring cup you inherited from your Aunt Matilda. Or the cookbook author may have baked in his dry New Mexico kitchen and you’re baking his bread in your humid Houston home. Humidity can definitely affect volume measurements of ingredient like flour and sugar (as well it does weight, but still, weighing gives you a better chance at accuracy).

So, long story short — you’ll get the best result from a recipe when you know the precise weights the recipe developer/cookbook used. (And always be wary of recipes that specify a “pinch,” especially when it comes to cayenne pepper — one cook’s pinch is another cook’s pain in the ass!!)

My brother Matt is back this week from Iraq. Yesterday we had a little surprise in the yard, a garter snake! Since this is a food blog, Matt is eating the critter. Seriously, no snakes were harmed in the writing (or photographing) of this blog post … the snake was set free in the woods once all the children in the neighborhood got a look.

Now that Matt has left for Spain, I’ll get back to my blogging and cooking.

I’m obsessed with The Vegan Lunchbox, a blog run by a mom who lovingly photographs the creative veg-only meals she creates for her son. Well, she published a book and I bought it a few weeks ago. I’m not vegan and I can’t even call myself a proper vegetarian anymore. But The Oyster occasionally cries about eating creatures, so I like to have tasty options available for him so that if he ever *does* decide to go vegetarian/vegan, I won’t be at a total loss.

At any rate, I turned to the desserts first (naturally). Being an eggs/butter/cream kind of girl, it has always baffled me how vegans turn out cakes, muffins, and cookies. And when I saw the recipe for vegan Twinkies, I knew I had to give them a go.

I don’t have a Twinkie pan, so I baked the cakes in a muffin tin. The batter smelled kind of funny (you curdle soy milk with cider vinegar … that, plus a bit of almond extract), but once they came out of the oven they looked (and smelled) just like Hostess Cupcakes.

Next up was the frosting filling, a blend of soy margarine (ick), trans-fat free Crisco (double ick), powdered sugar, and malt powder, which I didn’t have, so I substituted with a couple tablespoons of vegan marshmallow fluff. Filled the cooled cupcakes using a pastry bag and tip, and then dug in.

The verdict? The Oyster liked the cupcakes until he reached the frosting in the middle. “Yuck! That frosting is gross!!!” Okay, so I’ve ruined my kid for life by baking him cakes made with El Rey and Callebaut chocolates and frosted with pure buttercream. He’s never had a Twinkie or Hostess cupcake. Me? Oh man, they tasted just like what mom used to put in my lunchbox. They were awesome. I scarfed two of them and felt supremely virtuous. And greedy. They freeze well and I don’t have to share.

It has been awhile since I’ve posted anything substantial here. Guess it’s because I’ve been doing a lot of food writing and recipe development over the last couple months, so time to dip the toes (fingers?) back into food blogging. What I’m cooking/baking for fun:

1. If it’s winter, it must be soup season. My routine: on Sunday night I pull out the pressure cooker and make a batch of vegetable stock (easy as sin: I go through the vegetable bins and throw in anything that isn’t yet moldy and take the bits and bobs I’ve been saving all week in the freezer. Fill the pot halfway with water, add some smashed garlic, half an onion, and some peppercorns, and cook in full pressure for 30 minutes. Strain. Vegetable stock.) Then I cook a potato in the stock, throw in a head of chopped broccoli, cook until tender but still bright green, and then blitz in the blender. Season with salt and pepper. I like the soup a little chunky. Then all week I eat it for lunch with a good amount of cheese mixed in. Today it’s leftover buffalo milk mozzarella. Oh, so good — and pretty healthy, too! I’ve also been making lentil soup and French onion soup.
2. Breads — I’m pretty much on maintenance with bread, making our weekly loaves. My MIL was here from Texas a few weeks ago, and she was reminiscing about salt-risen bread. I ran to my Bernard Clayton and James Beard and started researching. Intriguing! Details TK. Likewise, I’m also fascinated with the “greatest bread ever” that Mark Bittman wrote about in the NYT a couple weeks ago. Just haven’t found the time to work on it.
3. Thanksgiving. I’m not a Thanksgiving food fan. I’m a Valentine’s Day girl: chocolate and champagne. Or even July 4 … at least there’s a chance of lobster and drawn butter. Turkey? Eh. Not my favorite meat. We got a smallish (10#) free-range organic turkey, which I didn’t have time to brine. The breast meat was dry, but flavorful. The only thing I really enjoyed was the mashed potatoes (made with loads of butter and hot cream) and cranberry sauce (homemade, of course!)

That’s all for now. I just got a few more recipe development assignments for January, but I hope to be back with some new stuff w/ photos.

I love sorrel. We have a patch of it in our herb garden and it’s the first spring green to come up every year. By late spring the leaves are too tough and bitter. But the first leaves are perfect for a spring soup — light, lemony, yum!

This soup I made by sauteeing some shallots in oil. Then I simmered some chopped potatoes in chicken broth till soft. I pureed the potatoes, broth and shallots along with a handful of sorrel. (If you cook sorrel, it gets muddy colored — I like the fresh green look of this soup.) You can put the soup through a sieve/chiniois or not. Your choice.

I topped my soup with some stale bread fried in garlic oil.