The NDP kitchen is swimming in blueberries. They were a mere $1.25 a pint at today's market, so I couldn't resist buying just a few 5. I ate half a pint on the way back from the market, because they're so sweet! And I'm a grown up so I can! So there! I'll freeze 2 of the pints, and the other 2 (er, 1 1/2) will work their way into salads and crisps and maybe even some hand pies. After trying Sarah's bourbon peach and sour cherry hand pies at our office bakeoff, I'm dying to try my hand at making them. I'm pretty sure her recipe was from Deb at Smitten Kitchen, and no surprise there -- the crust was perfectly flaky, and the sprinkling of rock-sugar on top of the not-really-sweet crust made all the difference. And those cherries! I'm still mourning the end of sour cherry season, so you'll have to bear with my whining. If anyone sees sour cherries this week, pullease leave a tip on the blog about where one can find them.

But I digress. Because here I go, planning where all my blueberries will find themselves, when in truth I've already put 1/4 pint toward a very noble cause: perfect blueberry hotcakes. I don't make pancakes often, so when I do, I tend toward the luxurious end of the pancake spectrum. My go-to recipe calls for 6 Tbsp. of melted butter that are then incorporated into buttermilk and egg yolks for a tangy, rich batter. Whipped egg whites are folded in just before cooking to lift the batter and make the hotcakes uber-light, and fresh blueberries lend color and zing that contrast perfectly with the sweet, sloshy puddles of maple syrup. These hotcakes were the antidote to my very busy week. If Friday night partying isn't your way to ring in another weekend, let these be the sign that Saturday is finally here.

Perfect Blueberry Buttermilk Hotcakes adapted from Beltane Ranch, via Food and Wine
serves 4-6
Ingredients 1 1/2 cups unbleached flour — I use half whole wheat 2 tsp. baking soda 1/2 tsp. salt 2 cups buttermilk 6 Tbsp. unsalted butter, melted and cooled 2 large eggs, separated and at room temperature 1/4 pint fresh blueberries maple syrup
In a medium bowl, mix flour, baking soda and salt. Set aside.
In a large bowl, whisk together buttermilk and egg yolks. Add butter and stir until well incorporated. Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and stir just until combined. Add blueberries and fold into batter to incorporate.
In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment or in a medium bowl using a hand mixer, whip egg whites until stiff peaks form. Using a rubber spatula, fold in egg whites gently, and stir just until combined.
Heat a lightly buttered castiron or heavy stainless steel skillet over moderately low heat. Using a ladle or a 1/4-cup measure, put two-three pancakes in the pan.
Let hotcakes cook for about two minutes, or until top begins to set around the edges. Flip and cook 1 minute longer, then transfer to a 280-degree oven to keep warm while you cook the rest of these beauties.
Serve with good maple syrup and a big appetite.
My breakfast habits usually vary from season to season. I tend to alternate between Terri and Kendall's go-to oatmeal recipe (oats, water, agave syrup, wheat germ, and flax seeds) and toast with an egg and fake bacon during the winter. During summertime, though, it's all about yogurt. There are few things I love more than yogurt -- especially that uber tart and rich stuff that I make at home -- and I eat it very, very often during the hot months. Until this week. See, I bought a little container of good organic yogurt and a gallon of organic whole milk, stepped up on a stool to pull down my yogurt maker from its above-the-fridge hiding place, and set out to make some yogurt, but for some reason, the batch emerged looking nothing like yogurt and everything like watery curds. My big yogurtFAIL kind of killed my buzz. That's when I remembered the half tub of oatmeal leftover from wintertime, sitting on the fridge all by its lonesome. So I threw some in the microwave and called it a morning.

Hard to believe it's already Thursday and another Saturday is nearly upon us. I'm still thinking about last weekend's 75-degree weather and super-chill Mediterranean style lunch. A trip to NYC will prevent me from repeating that meal this Saturday, but if I could, I would, in half a heartbeat. It's the obvious way straight to my heart: breads, spreads, salad, and a glass of wine. Easy to please, no?


Lunch makes or breaks my day. If it's good, I cruise through the whole afternoon on the contents of my midday tupperware, don't get really hungry again til about 4 or 5, and by then, I can pop a couple almonds, some honey wheat pretzels, or a piece of the dark chocolate bar I stash in my first drawer (don't tell), any of which will easily hold me over until dinner. If it's bad, I'm hungry at 1:30 and every minute thereafter, until my next real meal. I'm fidgety and tired, fussy and hungry. The upshot? If lunch is bad, the day is, like, the total opposite of awesome.
