Cherry Chocolate Almond Hamentaschen

A bit later than I'd hoped to share this recipe, but I'm thinking you may have many, if not most, of the ingredients in this recipe on hand. Cream cheese. Chocolate chips. Almonds. Maybe some dried cherries, from that last batch of granola. Yeah? If so, a batch of my new favorite hamentaschen is within reach.

This started when I went to make Deb's homemade poppy seed filling. My standard regimen is to make one batch of poppy, one of nutella. This year, the nutella was replaced by Nocciolata, which has less junk and a cleaner, more hazelnuty flavor than nutella. (Full disclosure: the Nociolata folks sent me a sample to try.) But for my third batch, I really wanted something fruity, and for once, I didn't want to use jam.

I thought back to last year's chocolate raspberry hamentaschen, which I absolutely adored. I wanted something similar. But I also kept coming back to this idea of a hamentaschen flavored like rugelach: some nuts, some dried fruit, some chocolate, all folded up into a pastry - the two aren't all that different.

The minute rugelach popped into my mind, I was off to the races. Dried cherries, plenty of chocolate, some ground almonds for texture, a bit of orange zest, and then some brandy, because Purim. Don't forget a cream cheese dough, essential to that rugelach flavor. The result was perfection.

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Can I tell you a couple other things I so love about this recipe? The dough comes together super easily, and you don't even need a food processor. I didn't use one. It rolls out perfectly with just a light sprinkling of flour, and guys, the sides STAY UP. No flat pancake hamentaschen this year. This dough is perfect.

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I'm crowning these my new favorite, just in time for the holiday.

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One year ago: Chocolate Raspberry Hamentaschen asdf Two years ago: Moroccan Chicken with Apricots Three years ago: The original Hamentaschen recipe and the World's Best Almond CakeFour years ago: Gnocchi with Butternut Squash and Shiitake Mushrooms  asldkfh Five years ago: Hummus and Muhammara and Labneh, oh my! Six years ago: Vintage Breakfast Biscuits

Chocolate Cherry Almond Hamentaschen Inspired by a couple favorite rugelach recipes Makes about 50

For the dough: 4 oz. unsalted butter, softened 4 oz. cream cheese 1 cup powdered sugar zest of 1 lemon 2 egg yolks 2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour 1/4 teaspoon salt

For the filling: 1 cup dried cherries, chopped 1/3 cup brandy (can substitute orange juice, milk, or even water with a squeeze of lemon) 3/4 cup chocolate chips juice and zest of 1 orange 1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons almond meal pinch of salt

Make the dough: In a large bowl or the bowl of a food processor, cream butter, cream cheese, powdered sugar, and lemon zest until smooth and fluffy. Add the egg yolks and stir vigorously to incorporate. Honest, you don't need a food processor - I used a fork.

Add flour and salt, and stir or pulse until dough starts to come together. Dump dough onto clean work surface and fold it over itself a few times until there are no dry pieces left. Gather dough into two disks, wrap in plastic, and refrigerate for at least 2 hours. (Dough will keep tightly wrapped in the refrigerator for up to 2 weeks.)

Make the filling: In a small pot combine chopped cherries, brandy, chocolate chips, and orange juice and zest. Heat on medium for 5-7 minutes, stirring regularly, until chocolate has melted and everything becomes a mostly-smooth mass. Add almond meal and salt; stir to combine. Refrigerate until room temperature or colder.

Make the hamentaschen: Preheat oven to 350° and line two baking sheets with parchment or silpat.

Remove one disk from the refrigerator. Lightly dust a clean work surface with flour, and roll out the dough to slightly thicker than 1/8-inch thick. Use a 2.5-inch cutter to cut disks of dough, and immediately plop the disks onto one of the lined baking sheets. When the work surface is floured, the disks will pop right out when you pull up the cutter. If not, don’t worry – just use a bench scraper or metal spatula to lift the disks and put them onto the baking sheet. Don’t worry about spacing the disks evenly; these hamentaschen don’t need much breathing room, and folded hamentaschen take up much less space than the disks.

Prepare your workstation: bring over your cooled filling and two small spoons, fill a small bowl with water, and get out a pastry brush. Use the pastry brush or your finger to brush a bit of water along the edge of each disk, and then use your thumbs and pointers to fold each disk into a triangle shape (see here for pictures).

Bake cookies for 10-15 minutes, until tops are slightly golden. Remove from the oven and let cool for 10 minutes before transferring. Meanwhile, fill your second sheet with cookies. By the time round 2 is ready to bake, round 1 will be cool enough to transfer, and that baking sheet will be free for batch 3.

Hamentaschen will keep in an airtight container for at least a week, probably more. They also freeze very well.

Yotam Ottolenghi's Watercress Soup

Sometime last year, D and I were invited to take part in a fun tradition that friends of ours had started, wherein they host dinner parties composed entirely of dishes from Yotam Ottolenghi, he of Plenty and Jerusalem and an earlier eponymous book that gets much less attention. (Also of a fantastic column in The Guardian, where this soup originally appeared.)

At the first of these dinners we attended, the table was full of exotic dishes: fava bean kuku loaded with barberries, grape leaf and yogurt pie, and mutabbaq. Everything went together, because everything came from the same brilliant mind. We left stuffed.

For the second dinner, we all went back to the well, digging for recipes that had languished on our to-do lists for too long. Josh made a saffron ravioli served with pink peppercorns. Bryce made the spinach-feta fritters that were a total pain but really delicious. And I finally flipped back to the page of Jerusalem with three soups on it, two of which I'd already made. This time, I made the third: a very green soup made of watercress.

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What do you make of watercress soup? It sounded like a thin, brothy bowl, and I was worried that without a poultry broth, it would come out sort of bland.

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Fortunately, I was wrong. Watercress is so flavorful! To think I've been missing out on its spicy freshness all this time. The sweet spinach provides a nice counterbalance, but what really makes the soup is its garnish -- if you can call it that: a big pile of carrots and celery, roasted in plenty of spices until crispy and fragrant. Plus Greek yogurt, of course. 

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Let's get the special-ingredient pep-talk out of the way. You need some ras el hanout, a Moroccan spice blend with as many varieties as people in Morocco. That said, I've seen jarred versions at two area grocery stores, so hopefully you're in luck. The other thing you need is rose water. On one hand, it's crazy to buy a bottle of rose water when you only need a tablespoon. On the other hand, my bottle cost like $5, I've had it for years, and it never seems to go bad. So there you go. If you don't want to buy rose water, you can still make the  soup. But the rose water does lend fragrance and overall intrigue, so if you're even considering getting it, go for it.

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As good as this soup is the day it's made, it improves with time, as the flavors come together and smooth out a bit. There's no problem making the garnish in advance, either. Just give them a quick reheat in a 350-degree oven (10 minutes?) before serving and you'll be all set.

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Watercress Soup with Chickpeas and Ras El HanoutAdapted from Yotam Ottolenghi Serves 4

1 large carrot, peeled and cut into 3/4-inch dice 3 tablespoons olive oil 3 teaspoons ras el hanout 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon 1 teaspoon kosher salt 1 8-oz. can chickpeas 1 medium onion, thinly sliced 2-inch knob fresh ginger, peeled (use the tip of a spoon!) and grated or finely chopped 2 1/2 cups vegetable stock (or sub water) 8 oz. fresh watercress 4 oz. spinach leaves, washed 2 teaspoons caster sugar 1 teaspoon rose water 1 cup Greek yogurt, to serve

Heat the oven to 400°. Mix the carrot with a tablespoon of the oil, the ras el hanout, cinnamon and some salt, and spread flat in a roasting tin lined with baking parchment. Place in the oven, roast for 15 minutes, then add half the chickpeas, stir well and and cook for another 10 minutes, until the carrot is soft but still has some bite.

Meanwhile, in a large saucepan over medium heat, sauté the onion and ginger in the remaining oil for about 10 minutes, until soft and golden. Add the remaining chickpeas, stock, watercress, spinach, sugar and some salt, stir and bring to a boil. Cook for a minute or two, until the leaves wilt, then blitz in a food processor until smooth. Stir in the rose water, taste and add salt or more rose water as required.

To serve, divide the soup into four bowls and top with the hot carrot and chickpea mix, and about two teaspoons of yoghurt per portion.

Yotam Ottolenghi is chef/patron of Ottolenghi in London.

No-Frills Toasted Walnut Cake

According to my big stack o' food magazines, Thankgiving is the day for pie, and the December holidays are prime-time for cookies. Since there's no formal season for cakes, we'll eat them all year and call it even. Fair?

Early spring brunches bring rhubarb coffee cake; summer calls for double-decker strawberry cake; and I've got a slew of French-style no-biggie cakes, peasant and pound, to finish off just about any meal.

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But when winter can't seem to let go, I want something toasty and comforting, something simple and relatively unadorned. The days are so short that I can't really motivate to make something sky-high and celebratory - plus, after dinners of thick lentil soup and rib-sticking stews, I want a desert to finish things off without overdoing it.

When I first came upon this walnut cake, it was quite the opposite of "not overdoing it:" a towering thing, with piles (I'm serious, piles) of jam, and a big, fluffy cloud of tangy whipped cream gilding the lily. The thing was tasty, but it was so done up, it had almost nothing to do with the cake at the center of it all.

In my world, the solution to all not-quite perfect recipes is to add chocolate. And so, armed with my best Valrhona, I baked the original cake, slit it in half, painted a thin layer of jam in the middle, smacked the two halves backed together, and cloaked them in chocolate ganache.

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In my world, this sounds like the cake of dreams -- only it wasn't. It was dense, cluttered, and, quite truthfully, unpleasant to eat. Womp.

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And so it was that I attempted time #3. I ditched the fancy springform  and pulled out my most trustworthy, least fussy square baking pan. I ditched the Valrhona (don't tell on me) and I even ditched the jam. Back to basics: It felt a bit like wiping off the makeup from a stage performer.

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My instincts were right: the cake was drop-dead gorgeous au natural. Toasty and warm, nutty but also plenty buttery, absolutely perfect with a cup of tea. That's how we ate it, morning and afternoon, until it was all gone. Did I mention it comes together in one bowl (a food processor bowl, but still) in no time at all? Just as it should be.

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Where I live, the snow is still coming down. That means there'll be another pan full of this cake, and lots of hot water for tea. It's the little things that make me feel lucky these days. This is one of them.

No-Frills Toasted Walnut CakePared down and adapted from an old Gourmet recipe

Notes: You can make this cake in either a round pan or a square one. Make sure it's an 8-inch pan, though: a 9-inch pan will give you a thin cake that's a bit less satisfying to eat.

If you must fuss, mix 1/2 cup of whipped cream with 2 tablespoons sour cream and a tablespoon of sugar. The tangy whipped cream, in small doses, compliments the cake without overpowering it.

1 1/4 cups walnuts (4 1/2 oz) 2/3 cup sugar 1 stick unsalted butter, cut into pieces 4 large eggs 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract 1/2 cup all-purpose flour 1/2 teaspoon baking powder 1/2 teaspoon salt

Preheat oven to 350° with a rack in the middle of the oven. Butter and flour an 8-inch square or round cake pan.

Spread walnuts in a single layer on an ungreased, unlined sheet pan. Toast for 10-15 minutes, until nuts are tinted slightly and smell very fragrant. Watch carefully: you want to take the nuts into golden-brown territory but if you burn them, you'll need to start over.

Pulse walnuts and sugar in a food processor until finely chopped. Add butter and process until combined, then add eggs and vanilla and process until combined. Add flour, baking powder, and salt and pulse just until incorporated. Spread batter in cake pan.

Bake until cake is just firm to the touch and a wooden pick inserted into center comes out clean, 30 to 35 minutes. Cool 15 minutes in pan, then turn out onto a rack and cool completely.

Cake keeps, well-wrapped, at room temperature for up to 4 days.

Whole Roasted Cauliflower with Whipped Feta and Savory Fig Compote

The trendsetters over at Food52 recently told me that I could unabashedly pluRonk a whole cauliflower onto my table and call it dinner. Not just any cauliflower, though: it was this one, simmered in a rich, flavorful broth, then roasted on high high heat until the edges were singed, the whole orb a glistening golden. Then I could plunk it on my table and call it dinner. I needed zero convincing to try this one.

I will confess, though, that I only had one cauliflower in the fridge, and I was nervous that it wouldn't be enough to feed four of us. Since I'd bought a beautiful fillet of shad the previous day, I decided to roast that alongside the cauliflower. This meant that the cauliflower wasn't our only main dish, but no matter: it was a pièce de résistance all the same. The inner flesh was soft and flavorful from the broth, and those outer bits, well - I could eat them all day long.

The sauces didn't hurt, either: one was a whipped feta, made with a bit of yogurt and some softly whipped cream. The other was a savory fig compote, made by heating and steeping dried figs with capers until everything was soft, then blending the mixture until it was smooth. Sweet and briny, it was the perfect compliment to the silky cauliflower.

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The Menu: As promised, here's what we served for dinner that night:

• Leek Apple Walnut Soup (totally vegan, really delicious)
• Cauliflower with whipped feta and savory fig spread on the side
• Simply roasted shad (smeared with a bit of the fig jam; roasted with a few segments of lemon, flaky salt, and a drizzle of olive oil)
• Platter of leeks, turnips, and carrots roasted in equal parts miso and olive oil for about 45 minutes, until soft and browned
• Bulgur salad with eggplant and tahini dressing (from our friend Jana; super tasty)
• This orange marmalade cake, served  with whipped cream fortified with a bit of sour cream. Great combination

Dinner was simple, but we really enjoyed it.  And had we skipped the shad, we wouldn't have missed it.

Whole Roasted Cauliflower with Whipped Feta and Savory Fig SpreadAdapted from Alon Shaya, via Food 52Serves 2 as a main course with leftovers, 4 as a side

For the cauliflower: 1 whole cauliflower, leaves removed, stem trimmed 2 1/2 cups dry white wine 1/3 cup olive oil 1/4 cup salt (don't worry - it doesn't make the cauliflower too salty. Remember, you're seasoning 10 cups of liquid.) 3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice 1 tablespoon crushed red pepper 1 tablespoon sugar 1 bay leaf

Heat oven to 475° F. Bring wine, oil, salt, lemon juice, red pepper flakes, sugar, bay leaf, and 8 cups water to a boil in a large pot.

When broth is boiling, carefully lower in cauliflower, reduce heat, and simmer 15-20 minutes, turning once at the 10-minute mark, until a knife easily inserts into center. Using 2 slotted spoons or a mesh strainer or spider, transfer cauliflower to a rimmed baking sheet or roasting pan, draining well. Roast, rotating pan halfway through, until brown all over, 30 to 40 minutes. Transfer cauliflower to a plate. Drizzle with a bit more olive oil; sprinkle with sea salt. Serve with whipped feta cheese and/or savory fig compote. (recipes below)

That broth, by the way? Do not throw it away. It makes a fantastic base for soup and stew, and works like a charm as the cooking liquid for grains. I made some killer wheatberries in it right after removing the cauliflower.

For the whipped feta: 4 oz. feta cheese 1/2 cup whipping cream 3 oz. yogurt or sour cream

Put feta in a medium mixing bowl. Use a fork to mash the feta until mostly smooth (some chunks are okay). In a separate bowl, whip cream until it just barely holds soft peaks. Fold whipped cream and yogurt/sour cream into feta until combined.

For the fig compote: 1 cup dried figs, stems removed, halved 2 tablespoons capers plus 1 tablespoon caper brine (okay to skip if using salt-cured capers) 1/2 cup brewed chai tea

Bring chai tea and 1/2 cup water to a simmer in a small saucepan. Add figs and capers; simmer 5 minutes. Then remove from heat and let steep 1 hour. Blend cooled mixture using immersion or regular blender until smooth.