Granola vs. muesli vs. Bircher muesli

Many many moons ago, or about 13 years ago, Chris was trying to get me up to speed on differences in food and speech between Australian and American culture. One of the things he taught me at the time, which I have since realized is factually incorrect, is that what Americans call “granola,” Australians and British people call “muesli.” Initially, given I had no reason to think he was wrong, I believed him. But then when going down the grocery aisle at a Cole’s or Woolworth’s in Australia, I thought it was odd that all the things labeled “muesli” just looked like a bunch of raw oats with some nuts and dried fruit mixed in. There’s no way that Australians actually ate raw oats on the regular, right? The body doesn’t digest raw oats as easily as cooked oats, so this just seemed odd to me.

My suspicions were later confirmed. As ChatGPT sums it up, these are the key differences between granola and muesli: At a high level, granola is baked, crunchy, and sweet. Muesli is raw, softer, and less sweet. They are not the same thing.

In more detail: granola is baked and made crunchy with oil and sweeteners like maple syrup or honey. People like me who enjoy (homemade) granola love the large crunchy chunks or clusters. There’s pretty much always some combination of oats, nuts and seeds in it. And it’s usually eaten with yogurt or milk in cereal. Sometimes, you can even just snack on it by hand as you would chips. Muesli, on the other hand, is always raw, soft/chewy when soaked with a loose texture, with little to no added sugar. The base is usually a combination of oats, nuts, seeds, and dried fruit. Muesli usually soaked overnight in milk/yogurt and eaten cold.

The concept of muesli comes from Bircher muesli, which was first created in Switzerland by Dr. Bircher-Benner. Bircher muesli has a lot in common with overnight oats, but tends to be heavier the emphasis on adding nuts, seeds, dried fruit, and also including yogurt (and sometimes even sweetened condensed milk!) for added creaminess and mouthfeel. During the pandemic, I ate a lot of overnight oats, but I eventually got bored of it. When I thought about eating a little breakfast on weekdays again in the last month (I normally don’t eat breakfast on weekdays), I thought about a Bircher muesli recipe I found on the Wall Street Journal (never thought I’d get a recipe recommendation from there!) that sounded good. I changed it up a bit and made a big batch for breakfast this week. And it was really satisfying and definitely kept me quite full and satisfied. This is what the base looks like (for 6-8 servings). The base is soaked overnight to allow the oats to “cook”:

1 C rolled oats
1/4 C unsweetened coconut flakes
1/2 C raw cashews, chopped, toasted
1/2 C raw almonds, chopped, toasted

1/4 C pumpkin seeds, toasted
1/4 C ground flaxseeds
1/4 C chia seeds
6 Medjool dates, pitted and diced
1/4 C raisins or dried cranberries/cherries
1 Tbsp honey
3.5 C cow, almond, or oat milk
1 C whole milk yogurt
1 tsp vanilla extract
 
To add right before serving:
2 firm pears, cored and shredded with skin on
Fresh fruit, such as blueberries, blackberries, raspberries, or sliced plums

The ingredient I remember I’ve neglected for a while has been chia seeds. I’ve had a weird relationship with chia seeds. Lots of people love to add them to smoothies, but I absolutely hate them in smoothies. They stick to and expand in liquid, and they get physically stuck in everything: blender jar, blades, the sides of the kitchen sink, MY MOUTH. But I realize that in Bircher muesli, they are perfect because they create a pudding-like consistency when mixed with yogurt and milk. I’m definitely going to keep making this. Though I’ll be honest and reveal that I do something a bit sacrilege with my Bircher muesli: I do not eat it cold the way you are supposed to, as I hate cold oats. I always warm my bowl up a little.

The magic of tomato onion masala is re-discovered once again! And the lesson of not ignoring the tried-and-true classics

Years ago when I started getting into Indian cooking, I kept reading about “onion masala” or “tomato onion masala” on Indian cooking blogs and was wondering what it was. It was a “hack” to expedite Indian cooking, which is notoriously complex given the number of spices and ingredients the average dish uses. With some upfront work, as in, stewing down tomatoes, onions, garlic, ginger, and various spices, you can easily portion out 1/4-1/2 cup sized pucks, store in your freezer, and take a few pucks out every time you want to whip up an Indian dish that used tomato and onion in its base. I was obsessed with this idea, and I always kept frozen portions of tomato onion masala in our freezer. It allowed us to have relatively quick, home cooked, from-scratch meals just the day after coming back from many long-haul, international trips, when there was barely anything fresh in our fridge. I felt pretty proud of myself for embracing this. It was healthy, economical, and delicious eating.

After years of having the tomato onion masala easily on hand in the freezer, though, I started getting bored of it. I wanted to experiment with other spices and flavors. Eventually, my pre-portioned tomato onion masala went neglected in the bottom of my freezer bin. But then after filling our freezer to the brim a bit too much recently, I re-discovered my frozen masala and decided I didn’t want to let it get freezer burn and had to use it up. During our Connecticut long weekend, we stopped at Apna Bazaar and picked up a number of fresh Indian ingredients and beans, and I figured this would be a good opportunity to use up my tomato onion masala.

I took out five pucks of 1/4-cup portions of the tomato onion masala from the freezer today after dinner and thawed it a bit (in a memorable moment when I had the frozen pucks in a bowl on the kitchen counter, Chris was confused as to what they were. So he asked, “What are these balls?”). I set it over the stove with some butter, a few spices, salt, and blended some “cashew cream” (cashews plus water) into it. Then, I tossed in cubed paneer from Apna Bazaar and added another random small puck of frozen heavy cream I still had (who knows from when…). After simmering it for a few minutes, I tasted it. And… it was delicious. It tasted perfect! Not to brag, but it really tasted restaurant quality and had a really sumptuous mouth feel. I felt a bit guilty that I neglected this tomato onion masala that I’d previously spent so much time making in advance for future quick-cook meals. But in that moment, I vowed to myself that I would never take for granted the magic of pre-made tomato onion masala ever again. It always has a place in my heart and freezer.

Cooking with chanterelles – an autumn luxury and privilege

I love mushrooms. They are one of my favorite foods on earth. The more irregular and funny looking they are, the more likely I am enamored by them and just want to find ways to cook with them and get them in my belly. Over the years, I’ve had so many delicious varieties of mushrooms. In Asian cooking, shiitake and enoki mushrooms are extremely common. Since graduating from college, I’ve been buying king oyster and trumpet mushrooms more regularly. And while I am obsessed with morel mushrooms, they are almost impossible to find…and when you do, quite cost prohibitive.

One mushroom that had remained on the “out of reach” list for ages were chanterelles, a rare, delicate, and difficult to cultivate mushroom. They cannot be commercially cultivated and can only be grown wild, thriving on tree roots. Chanterelle mushrooms form symbiotic, mycorrhizal relationships with tree roots in a way that is so complex that humans still have not figured out how to reproduce this in a controlled farm environment. And thus, every chanterelle mushroom anyone buys has been foraged by hand in the wild and not farmed. They also have a very short season that is usually late summer to fall, and their yield heavily depends on rainfall, temperature, and soil quality being at optimal levels.

Given this, it’s been pretty usual that if I go to Whole Foods or a fancier grocery store (regular grocery stores will rarely have chanterelles!) around September to October each year that I will see chanterelles being sold for anywhere from $28-50 per pound. While I have loved them and have enjoyed them in a couple tasting menus we’d indulged in, I never had the pleasure of cooking with them myself until during the pandemic. In 2020, we spotted them at a Costco for about $12-13/pound, and I obviously pounced on it. And then once again during our Costco trip this past Sunday, I got two pounds of them for the same cost. Sure, they’re expensive and are priced like fancy meat even at this far-cheaper price, but to me, chanterelles are worth it as a rare autumn treat.

Today, I made my chanterelles two ways: I seared and tossed them into a cashew-cream based sauce with short pasta, along with cannellini beans and baby bella mushrooms for extra protein and mushroominess; and for something I hadn’t previously done but wanted to do, I seared them and tossed fresh green herbs into them, adding them atop crusty Breadivore bordelaise sourdough and a generous pat of salted French butter. It was simple, delicious goodness. But once I finished cooking my two pounds of chanterelles down and looked at my final dishes, I looked down and sadly noted how much they shrank down in volume, just like all my greens, into just a teeny tiny fraction of what I originally started with. This is often why when people ask me how I can possibly eat all of <name whatever squash, vegetable, bag of greens at Costco>, I tell them that it always cooks down to far, far less than what you’d think. So while it looks like we bought a lot, we”ll likely get through it in just two meals each!

Lyman Orchards Corn Maze and a bi-annual Costco pitstop

I don’t recall ever doing a corn maze during the fall growing up. I remember going to pumpkin patches, but the only corn maze I ever remember going to was out in Long Island in 2011 with some friends — at night. That corn maze was supposed to be spooky and “haunted,” and the only lights we had were via flashlights we were given or our own phones. Chris brought us to Lyman Orchards today in Middlefield, CT, for a corn maze and an apple stop. The theme was very fitting for us given what we’d recently eaten: it was Connecticut pizza themed! Kaia loved running through the corn maze and insisted on always going ahead of us and being first. She would also always squeal with high pitched delight every time she saw a corn on the cob that had its kernels peeking out. It was a really fun fall activity, and made even more fun by watching how happy and engaged Kaia was the whole time. Although I didn’t have a “bad” childhood, when I look at her and see how happy she is with all the experiences we’ve given her, it almost makes me relive my own childhood again just seeing how much joy she is experiencing. I love seeing her get excited about the leaves, the different seasons, and the different seasonal activities.

And of course, one last stop before we headed back to New York was at Costco! I loved the Costco experience in South Windsor, CT. Even though it was a Sunday, it wasn’t even remotely crowded. It actually felt quite quiet. There were barely any lines at checkout. The sample stations were quiet and not bombarded by endless hoards. The restroom was an easy in and out for us. And when we had a little lunch at the Costco food court, Chris easily got us a table and seats.

Here are some of the biggest highlights of what we discovered today:

Tim Tams (Australian formulation — WITH GOLDEN SYRUP ): Chris was very excited to see these, and of course, he added it to our cart to “tide him over” longer until he gets his Arnott’s haul replenished.

Kirkland Signature Belgian Chocolate Biscuit Cookie Tin: Chris’s favorite and present to himself each fall Costco trip we go on. 🙂

A WHOLE DUCK: For just over $16 grown at a farm in Indiana. I may finally use those duck class skills I learned a few years ago and get to work!

Wild chanterelle mushrooms: We haven’t scored these since the pandemic era. Chanterelles tend to grow in the fall and have a subtle but delicious earthy flavor. When they are in peak, they can go for anywhere from $28-50/pound, which is too much for me to stomach. I got two pounds of these babies today for $12.99/pound weeeee.

Nielsen Massey Vanilla Bean Paste: This brand always comes up in food forums I’m in where professional pastry chefs discuss products they love and absolutely need. I figured I’d never buy it because it was so expensive. But then Chris spotted it at Costco next to the vanilla extract and vanilla beans. I initially skimmed it over because I didn’t see the brand name. But when I did, I did a double take and scrutinized it to death, then Googled it to make sure this was the same product. A 10-ounce bottle of this magic was $19.99. For pricing reference, if you buy an 8-ounce bottle on Williams-Sonoma, it’s currently going for $47.95. What a deal! It’s best to use this product for baked goods where the vanilla flavor really needs to shine… and where you want to “see” the vanilla bean flecks.

Mrs. Meyers Hand Soap Combo Pack: Okay, so I’m kind of like Martha Stewart in that I do really like certain hand soaps over others, and Mrs. Meyers never fails. I almost got the same holiday scented set as last year until we came across the pack that includes the Tomato Vine scent, which I’d been curious about for a while because I’d read it had a near cult following!

We also got some good deals for clothes for Pookster, including a four-piece rainbow top and bottom set, a Minnie Mouse sweater, top, and pants set. And as the clothing section at Costco just keeps getting better and better, we also found some nice onesies that were Winnie the Pooh and Simba themed for some recent babies who have joined the family. It was a massive Costco haul this time, but I have zero doubt everything we got will go into good use (or into our bellies!).

Browned butter and cozy kitchen delights

As I’ve gotten older, I can definitely feel my metabolism slowing down. I can’t eat as much food as I used to. I definitely cannot eat the same sweet things I once ate as a kid or even as a 20-something-year-old. Some sweets I choose to stay away from completely (hello, candy in general and sour belts, which I was obsessed with as a little kid), and other things I have in very small quantities. Once upon a time, I could probably just sit there and eat five medium sized freshly baked chocolate chip cookies in a single sitting. Now, I can eat… one. And then if I have made them myself, I need to really space them out. And as we all know, homemade desserts have a very short shelf life (no preservatives!), and they can get dry quickly given they are all natural. So, if you don’t finish them within a certain time, they are just nowhere as delicious and moist as day one or two. Given this, I bake desserts only when we have company or are bringing baked goods to someone else, with the exception of “healthy” baked treats for Kaia.

The problem with this is that baking is one of my biggest and first loves in life. I have so many fond, happy memories of baking in my aunt’s kitchen upstairs. Most of those bake sessions were from box mixes, but as a little kid, I didn’t understand, nor would I probably have cared. I was actually making something that my family and I could eat, and that seemed so special and amazing to me when I was four, five, and six years old. When you think about it, it’s still actually quite amazing: it’s amazing to be able to share food you have made with your own time, effort, and hands with the ones you love most. It’s special to nourish the ones who mean the most to you. Because what is more important than fueling our bodies with sustenance?

So last night, I browned butter for the first time in ages. In my early 20s, I used to do this a few times a year for special treats like browned butter chocolate chip cookies, financiers, among other rich delights. I browned an entire cup or 240 grams of butter, and the house smelled so sweet, caramelly, toasty, and utterly delightful. I used it for the browned butter pumpkin cookies I made my postpartum friend, which I will be bringing to her place tomorrow. She recently had a baby, and I wanted to bring her more food and cook for her. She texted me and said she was really enjoying the hawthorn tea blend I made for her, especially because it had cinnamon, and it felt very cozy for fall. So given this, I figured browned butter pumpkin cookies would go with her “autumn cozy” feelings.

I was packing up the cookies this evening and decided to try one fresh. And it was truly delicious: rich, pumpkin spicy flavor, with caramel notes from the browned butter. The sugar level was perfect and melded into the butter like a dream. It was soft and chewy, with this almost addictive texture that mirrors that of snickerdoodles. When I thought more about it, these really are the pumpkin and spice version of snickerdoodles! My snickerdoodle-obsessed friend would have loved these cookies. Chris even declared these cookies “Tim Tam level,” which coming from him is quite high praise. Scientifically Sweet recipes never fail to be a delicious success.

I drew the line at one cookie for today, though. Now that I am nearing 40, I think a lot more about how many sweets and rich foods I eat. That single cookie had about 11 grams of sugar. 😀 I loved it, but I do not need to eat too many of them in a single sitting.

Very “clean” baking mixes

The neighbor I’ve been hanging out with while having play dates with our kids gave me a Simple Mills box mix for banana muffins or bread loaf. She said she has so many of this brand’s mixes that she’s gotten bored of the flavors, and she thought that maybe I could work my baking magic and jazz it up. The slogan is, “Only purposeful ingredients. Nothing artificial, ever.” The mix is gluten free and vegan (though it does call for three eggs and suggest using yogurt in place of water to increase moistness of the muffins). And when you look at the “simple ingredients” list, it just lists these: Almond Flour, Banana, Organic Coconut Sugar, Arrowroot, Organic Coconut Flour, Baking Soda, Organic Cinnamon, Sea Salt.

Based on the above ingredients list, there’s no weird artificial or “natural flavors.” No dyes or preservatives are listed. No weird names of things that the average person cannot pronounce are here. The average grocery store box mix has preservatives like propionate, potassium sorbate, sodium benzoate, and other emulsifiers. Simple Mills really is what it states: straightforward, simple ingredients. I wanted to believe this had to be good, so I decided to whip it out today and see how it was.

The instructions say to use three eggs, 1/2 cup water, and 1/3 cup oil. I used two eggs, replaced one egg with a “flax egg” (1 tablespoon ground flaxseed to 3 tablespoons water), replaced the water with yogurt as the suggestions stated to increase moistness, and used 1/3 cup coconut oil. The mixture seemed really thick, so I added some coconut and oat milk to thin it out a bit. I also wanted to add more spices because the only spice mentioned here was cinnamon, so I added some ground cardamom, ginger, allspice, nutmeg, and mace. I mixed it all up, added the batter into my mini muffin pan, and baked it. The bake time was also longer than I thought by about 50 percent, which was weird, but I’d rather have done muffins than liquidy ones.

Once the muffins were done and cooled, I tried one. It did not poof up the way wheat flour muffins do and was quite flat on top, but the flavor was pretty decent. The texture was soft and on pair with other almond-flour-based breads/muffins I’d had before. The spice flavor was very good. The one downside, though, was that there was absolutely zero taste of any banana. The spices, coconut milk, and oat milk had completely drowned out any banana fruit flavor.

I had one first and didn’t tell Chris what I thought. I did not want to influence what he tasted or thought. After he had one, he immediately said, “Not bad. Did you put something Indian in it?”

Spicy cumin beef at home

It may have been college when I learned that in areas like Xinjiang and Xi’An, China, that cumin paired with red meat like beef and lamb is common. The very first time I had cumin lamb I am actually unsure of. But when I first went to Xi’An Famous Foods in its original dinky stall in the Golden Mall in Flushing, Queens, way back in August 2008 (shortly after I moved to New York), my mouth and my brain were excited. I got lots of tingles from the liberal use of freshly ground Sichuanese peppercorns. I tasted a strong hit of cumin from the cumin lamb in the cumin lamb burger. And the hot and numbing noodles were lip-smackingly delicious.

I am not sure how it took over 17 years for me to finally pair cumin with meat at home, but here I am this afternoon, between work and calls, casually braising a pot of spicy cumin beef. The entire apartment smells like cumin. I can even smell it on my bathroom towels (I forgot to close all the doors, which really I should have known better to have done… but it slipped my mind).

After two hours of braising and reducing the braising liquid, I fished out a piece of beef and cut into it with a fork. It was fork tender, hot and numbing, and perfect. After my milk bread victory just a couple days ago, I felt even more self-satisfied knowing that my first attempt at spicy cumin beef over wavy knife-cut noodles (previously sun-dried) would be a success. I’m having an out-of-town friend over for dinner tomorrow with her boyfriend, and I’ll be serving this with kao fu (Shanghainese style seitan and mushrooms), Sichuanese spicy cucumber salad, blanched yu choy, and finishing with a French apple cake to welcome in autumn. I’m so excited!

Japanese milk bread, take two

During the height of the pandemic, I saw so many recipes that either were for Japanese milk bread or included Japanese milk bread that I decided to try to make it. Unfortunately, lines at the grocery stores were long, and almost all milk bread recipes require bread flour for increased protein and gluten formation. I had only all-purpose flour and didn’t really want to line up just to get bread flour, so I tried my hand at making this with just all-purpose flour. Well, it didn’t turn out great: the dough got over proofed, it looked lopsided, and finally, the texture, while good, was nothing like the feathery, airy-light poofiness that makes Japanese (or Hokkaido) milk bread so famous. I had made a bread loaf, but it certainly was not anything that resembled a real Japanese milk bread loaf. I felt sad and decided I’d revisit it later when I got my hands on bread flour.

Then fast forward about five years (long wait, but a lot happened since then, including IVF and Kaia Pookie!). Earlier this year, I was able to get King Arthur bread flour on sale at Whole Foods, which I originally used to make two batches of hot cross buns. I knew another recipe I wanted to try out again was Hokkaido milk bread. And this time, I was properly equipped: I had the bread flour, the instant yeast (versus the dry active yeast, which would require an annoying extra step of scalding the milk), plus milk powder (which I originally bought and used to make gulab jamun nut bread). On Sunday night, I made the dough with the tangzhong, which is an Asian (people argue whether it was Japanese or Taiwanese first) bread making technique where a small portion of the flour and liquid (usually milk and water) is cooked into a paste before being added to the main dough. This pre-gelantinizes the flour’s startches, which then allows them to absorb more water. This ultimately results in a softer, more tender dough and bread that stays fresh, light, and fluffy for a longer time compared to bread without the tangzhong method. I proofed it overnight in the fridge. Then in the morning, I rolled it out and into my bread pan. I wasn’t sure if it rose enough or why it didn’t seem to rise at all in the fridge, but the recipe did note that this dough would not double (like most yeast doughs) when rising. When I checked the dough in the pan after an hour, I did see that it filled out the pan, so that was good news that my yeast was doing its job. I brushed it with milk, then baked it for about 32 minutes, and out came this gorgeous, poofy, lightly golden brown milk bread loaf. It already looked and smelled so much better than the one I attempted five years ago.

I sliced a couple pieces off my milk bread loaf for lunch for Chris and me, and I had mine with guava jam. To be totally honest, I felt so self satisfied when cutting into the loaf and seeing the crumb, and even more so when I took my first bite. It was like the perfect milk bread: feathery, airy, light, a tiny bit sweet, and pillowy. And even better: it was 100 percent homemade with no artificial ingredients or preservatives. And when I think about it, it really wasn’t that tedious to make at all, especially when you factor in doing the first proof (rise) overnight in the fridge. Making bread always gives me a high level of satisfaction, and even more so when it’s a bread that has been a challenge in the past. I will definitely be making this again soon!

Pumpkin spiced creamer

After I had my fun with my newfound love of mace (the spice, NOT the spray!) yesterday, I added a bit of my ground mace to my freshly blended pumpkin spice blend. I always make this every autumn for pumpkin spiced treats through winter, just that this time, it’s particularly special (with a hint of citrus!) from the mace addition.

The first thing I wanted to make with my pumpkin spice blend was pumpkin spiced creamer. A few years ago, I’d made pumpkin spiced lattes at home that used not just pumpkin spice, but also real pumpkin puree. The issue with that recipe I used was that it required you to blend the milk/pumpkin/spice mixture every time, which didn’t seem practical as a regular activity to do when you just wanted some pumpkin spice flavor in your coffee or tea latte. So I found a pumpkin spice “creamer” idea where you’d whisk all the spices, pumpkin puree, and milks (I used coconut and oat), along with a little sugar and vanilla extract on the stove until boiling, simmer, and then let it cool. Each time you take some creamer out of the jar from the fridge, you just need to remember to shake it a bit before adding to your coffee.

I added the pumpkin spice creamer to my cold brew glass with ice cubes, then added bit more oat milk to top it off. I mixed it up, tasted it, and was quite satisfied. It really did taste very creamy and autumn-like. I could even get the hint of citrus flavor from the tiny bit of mace in the pumpkin spice blend.

The mystical spice that is mace: a surprising source of floral and citrus fragrance

Back in June 2023 while we were in Kerala, we went on spice tour that included looking at real spices being grown on a farm, including ones that are native to India or surrounding countries, such as cardamom, cinnamon, nutmeg, and mace. I had seen the spice called mace noted in a number of Indian recipes before, particularly in garam masala blends, but it was usually marked as “optional” and not required. It piqued my interest, though, because I had actually not known what the spice mace was or what it looked like. I had heard of mace spray (NOT related, by the way), but the mace spice was not used in that defense spray (ha). Mace is native to the Banda Islands (also known as the Spice Islands) in Indonesia. It is, interestingly, the husk (or more correctly, the “aril”) of the spice nutmeg. Nutmeg is considered the seed of the tree, and mace is the aril, or a delicate, lace-like coating that envelops the seed. On the plant, it’s quite beautiful to look at (if you think plants are beautiful things, that is). During that trip, I decided to get a packet of mace arils. Since then, I’ve stored them in a dark cupboard away from heat, only removing a couple at a time to toast and grind immediately into my homemade garam masala blend.

For whatever reason, I never thought to grind it and smell it alone. Today, I finally did in preparation for my pumpkin spice blend that I was making. I knew I wanted this version to have mace in it. And wow, I was in for a real treat and surprise! The scent was not that surprising after I toasted the whole arils. But once I ground them in my spice grinder, I was completely blown away after I removed the lid and inhaled. The scent of the freshly toasted, ground mace was warm, sweet, floral, citrusy, almost with a minty undertone. I couldn’t get over how citrusy this ground mace smelled. It smelled absolutely nothing like nutmeg, which is far more woody, spicy, and earthy. I also loved the hue of the ground mace: it is this very pretty deep tan/pale orange. After I ground the mace and placed it into a small glass jar for storage, I couldn’t help but keep sniffing it. I just love this scent! I did buy this at a spice farm directly in India, so even though the mace arils are over two years old, you would never guess they were this old!

And to think it only took me almost 40 years to find out how unique and interesting this peculiar spice is!