SpiceLines

Like a false bride, the frilly blossoms of prunus mume "Bridal Veil," can trick you into thinking that spring has really and truly arrived. But don't be fooled--it's a mid-winter bloomer.

I’m easily deluded.

Balmy air, blue skies, a soft, caressing breeze. Is it really the first of March?

Yesterday the garden burst into bloom. Suddenly there are sweeps of rose and butter yellow against the withered leaves and bare branches.

But these are treacherous times. Nothing is as it appears to be.

Annie Pambaguian's intensely fruity strawberry macarons have a spicy surprise: they are sprinkled, inside and out, with crushed pink peppercorn hulls.

Every time I start to whine—(oooo…) why don't we live live in Paris?, (awww…) I want one of Jean Paul Hevin’s tartelettes chocolates right now, (sigh…) why doesn’t Deyrolle, wondrous purveyor of stuffed peacocks and antique confiture posters, have an outpost around here?—I tell myself to just stop it.

After all, Annie Pambaguian’s stellar macarons are just a five minute drive away.

You could easily be forgiven for thinking that these exquisite morsels came by air from Paris. Strawberry might be my favorite, a ripe red, vibrantly flavored, stove-simmered “jam” neatly sandwiched between two evanescent layers of meringue. Take a bite and this fruity confection—sweet but not too sweet—begins to melt deliciously in your mouth.

But wait. Suddenly a tiny burst of peppery heat spreads across the palate—the dark rose “sprinkles” on top of the macaron are the crushed hulls of pink peppercorns. Annie has slipped a few into the jammy filling as well, creating the kind of subtle “surprise” that sets her pastries apart from everyone else’s.

What really makes you smile? You know, the quick, joyful grin, and maybe a chuckle or two, that lights up your face when—

Well, that’s the question, isn't it? What makes you smile? I really want to know, so please don't be shy.

For me, it’s fleeting and unpredictable. At the moment, it’s the morning sun lighting up the golden tulips on the kitchen table. And Serendipity’s warm, yeasty challah, fresh from the oven. Even better, tulips and challah together….

The sweetly fragrant rind of organic Meyer lemons, preserved in salt, brightens late winter stews and tagines. It also adds spark to an early spring risotto with herbs. Preserved lemons take just 10 minutes to prepare, but you'll have to wait at least a week to use them.

And here’s another thing that makes me smile: A jar of preserved Meyer lemons, glowing like the sun, inside a shiny white refrigerator.

Actually make that two jars, one with spices, and one without.

The last days of winter are a good time to make preserved lemons at home. Organic Meyer lemons are abundant, at least in the markets, and their salt-cured peel adds a spark of intensity to early spring dishes such as risotto or pasta with parsley and other fresh herbs.

On nippy March evenings, you can also use salty preserved lemons to brighten the comforting stews and savory Moroccan tagines that our chilled bodies still crave. Even better, make a slow-roasted tomato paste with preserved lemon, cinnamon and white pepper, then serve as a condiment with braised lamb shanks or smoky pork chops. The sun-struck flavors send a cheery message: Summer is coming soon.

But don’t delay: These golden lemons must sit in salt until they are properly cured, usually a matter of weeks. There are two ways to do this at home…

Wisconsin's Dietzler Farm, which raises all natural beef, will host Outstanding in the Field's dinner on July 30, 2011. Photo credit: Jeremy Fenske.

Do you ever wish that you could drop into one of those seductive photos where a casually chic crowd is seated at a long dinner table that winds its way through a vineyard, across a grassy field, or down to the water’s edge on a pristine beach? One where white tablecloths flutter in the breeze, forks clink against china bearing delicious local food, and the setting sun glints off wine glasses filled with pinot noir from the winery next door?

Well, now’s your chance.

On March 20, Outstanding in the Field launches its online ticket sales for upwards of 80 suppers to be held across North America this summer and fall—and for the first time, six festive dinners in Europe. Go here to see the 2011 schedule.

Preserved lemon gives roasted winter carrots a blast of salty, citrusy sunshine. Cumin brings out the earthiness of the carrots, while cinnamon enhances the vegetable's sweet side.

Did you make Paula Wolfert’s preserved lemons last week?

For me, the 7 days were up on Tuesday, but I cheated and pulled a few wedges out of the jar when friends dropped by over the weekend. I chopped the salty, half-cured peel and tossed it into a batch of ho-hum Greek olives along with a spoonful of minced fresh rosemary. Delicious with drinks. Hmmm...maybe a little too delicious.

The Meyer lemons have been so beautiful that I’ve started two more jars for the pantry, one flavored with a stick of true cinnamon, the other with a hefty pinch of Iranian saffron threads. Already the saffron-infused lemons are glowing like the setting sun. So pretty to look at when I come into the kitchen each morning. Just three days until they are ready…

Preserved lemons must be in the air. Yesterday Julia Moskin’s piece, “DIY Cooking Handbook” (The New York Times, March 16, 2011, pp. D1 and D6) included a Paula Wolfert recipe for….preserved lemons. Not the quick 7-day recipe, but a traditional Moroccan version which requires 3 to 4 weeks of curing. For extra flavor she added black peppercorns and bay leaves to the mix.

Baker alert! You're invited to enter SpiceLines First Annual Cookie Contest. It's a camel beauty competition, with cookies created and decorated by you. Cool prizes, too. These cookies? They were made by Heather Moseley of Gugelhupf Bakery in Durham, N.C.

The camel caravan has just pulled in.

Camel cookies, that is. Pretty as can be, ready for their close-ups.

They’ve arrived just in time for SpiceLines First Annual Cookie Contest. Are you a serious baker, a Sunday cookie maker, an artiste manqué, a Martha wanna-be? Well, this competition is for you. Even if, like me, you’re all thumbs, even if you’ve never rolled out cookie dough or whipped up a batch of royal icing, you’re invited to enter!

For your delectation: Camel cookies baked and decorated by Heather Moseley of Gugelhupf Bakery. Enter the contest and win terrific prizes, including Alice Medrich's amazing cookbook, Chewy Gooey Crispy Crunchy Melt-in-Your-Mouth Cookies.

Oh, my.

Just back from the post office, mailing dozens of camel cookie cutters to everyone who has already entered the baking contest. Your camels are en route. They’re flying all over the U.S.—one is even headed to London, another is on its way to Sydney, Australia.

So here’s the deal. I have three cookie cutters left. They’re looking a little forlorn, and since I’d love to find them happy new homes, I’m extending the deadline for entering the baking contest until 5 PM EST tomorrow. That’s 5 PM EST, Friday, March 25, 2011.

If you haven’t entered yet, first check out the original post and then email me at spicelinesatgmaildotcom. Don’t forget to include your full name and mailing address.

Hurry! We’re waiting to hear from you.

Annie Pambaguian's well-mannered banana cake gets a touch of intrigue from unexpected ingredients such as coconut, candied ginger, chopped dates and rum.

I am not a baker.

Oh, I make a fabulous Lemon Lover's Tart (thank you, Patricia Wells). The filling is lemony, not too sweet, very rich. The crust is easy: Melt butter and stir in confectioner's sugar, vanilla, and flour. Pat dough into tart pan. Bake.

My kind of tart.

And, come to think of it, there’s my great-aunt Mina’s Applesauce Cake. Spiced with cinnamon and clove, studded with pecans and raisins, it tastes just like autumn should--if autumn is dark, moist and buttery sweet. (I haven’t decided if I’m sharing that recipe yet. A girl has to have a few secrets.)

So I guess there are recipes even I can't mess up--like the back-of- the-box lighter-than-air cheesecake that I make for B on his birthday (thank you, Deborah). And the decadent little pecan cakes, floating in warm toffee sauce, that end every Thanksgiving feast at our house (thank you—oh wait, that recipe was purloined, so never mind).

But the truth is, I can’t begin to bake a cake.

Packing List

Camera (✓)

Black Norma Kamali swim suit, ruched in all the right places (✓)

Moleskine blank notebook, 240 pages (✓)

Pilot Precise black fine tip pens, 5 (✓)

Crisp white shirts, 2 (✓)

Roundtrip tickets, New York-Buenos Aires-New York (✓)

Mefistos for vineyard walking in Mendoza (✓)

Gotan Project’s Revancha del Tango on iPod (✓)

Jars for dulce de leche (try La Serenissima brand) (✓)

Reservation for 3 at Casa Felix (✓)

RayBan Wayfarers (✓)

Argentine Spanish swirling in my head (medialunas y café con leche for breakfast; “LL” pronounced like soft “J”)

Turquoise necklace (✓)

Lace T-shirt, swirly skirt, strappy black sandals for a midnight milonga de amor (✓)

Addresses for Casa Fagliano (country boots); Ferrucio Soppelesa (ice cream) (✓)

Lululemon stretchy pink top, groove pants for 10 hour flight (✓)

Passport (oops, almost forgot) (✓)

An open heart, ready for anything (✓)

Never happier than when I’m traveling. See you in April.