Pumpkin Swirl Brownies: The perfect thing to make with your male best friend's roommate

When my best male friend/neighbor Hank told me he was getting a girl roommate last May, I was a teensy bit alarmed. I’m not ashamed to admit that, I, like many girls in my demographic, am the possessive sort. I don’t like it when my roommates use my tiny spoons or special mugs or tear my newspaper apart when they read it, and I don’t like it when my best friends are hijacked by other people.

The new roommate situation was especially disconcerting to me because I loved Hank and my one-on-one time at his apartment. We regularly got together to watch “How I Met Your Mother,” to order embarrassing movies like Twilight, and for me to rant and stew about the latest irritant in my life. I didn’t want some other girl interfering in our special time – laughing at all the wrong moments or talking right during the punch line of Tina Fey’s sandwich-related joke on “30 Rock.” It never occurred to me that I might actually like the intruder, and that we would immediately become good friends/Target buddies.

This past Thursday night, after a hard day working for the man, I hijacked my male friend’s roommate to make Esi’s (Dishing Up Delights) pumpkin swirl brownies. I crossed the street like I’ve done a hundred times, bounded up the stairs that I could ascend with my eyes closed, and strode into Erin’s – not Hank’s – apartment. I came bearing wine, flour, sugar, vanilla, cinnamon, chocolate chips, baking powder, and an electric beater. She was ready for me with wine glasses, eggs, butter, pumpkin puree, bittersweet chocolate, parchment paper, and lots of utensils that we would subsequently make very dirty.

While Erin tackled the chocolate layer – which required melting butter and chocolate together in a double broiler (we used a glass bowl and a pot), I got started on the batter. We worked in tandem, deftly assisting the other without (completely) getting in each other’s ways. She measured out the pumpkin and oil for the pumpkin batter, I yelled at her for wanting to lick the bowl (but let her do it anyway because that’s what friends are for), and then we proudly assembled our pumpkin brownies layer by layer. Well, fine, just layer on top of layer – we both concluded that the chocolate layer, pumpkin layer, chocolate layer, pumpkin layer scenario was overkill. We’re rebels like that.

Erin and I were so busy baking and chatting and breaking recipe rules that we hardly noticed when Hank came home mid-way through our kitchen session. It was a striking moment for me. She wasn’t the intruder – he was. But we let him stick around for a few minutes anyway before he left for a party because apparently it is possible to be friends with more than one person.

Instead of accompanying Hank to the party like we both might have done in different circumstances, Erin and I parked it on the couch, watched “Modern Family,” “Community” and “30 Rock,” and picked at the pumpkin layer that we deemed superior to the chocolate layer in our brownies. It was a nice evening – a land mark event in our burgeoning friendship. Especially since neither of us laughed at the wrong moment or interrupted a punch line during any of the TV shows we watched.

Pumpkin Swirl Brownies
Adapted from Everyday Food via Dishing Up Delights

Makes 16 brownies

8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, plus more for pan
6 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (Erin & I omitted because we don’t like spicy desserts)
1/2 teaspoon salt
Scant 1 1/2 cups sugar
4 large eggs
1 tablespoon pure vanilla extract
1 1/4 cups solid-pack pumpkin
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
*2/3 cup chocolate chips (Erin & my prescient addition)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter a 9-inch square baking pan or dish. Line bottom of pan with parchment paper; butter lining.

Melt chocolate and butter in a heatproof bowl set over a pan of simmering water, stirring occasionally until smooth.

Whisk together flour, baking powder, cayenne, and salt in a large bowl; set aside. Put sugar, eggs, and vanilla in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment; beat until fluffy and well combined, 3 to 5 minutes. Beat in flour mixture.

Divide batter between two medium bowls (about 2 cups per bowl). Stir chocolate mixture into one bowl. In other bowl, stir in pumpkin, oil, and cinnamon (we added the chocolate chips here!). Transfer half of chocolate batter to prepared pan smoothing top with a rubber spatula. Top with half of pumpkin batter. Repeat to make one more chocolate layer and one more pumpkin layer. Work quickly so batters don't set.

With a small spatula or a table knife, gently swirl the two batters to create a marbled effect.

Bake until set, 40 to 45 minutes. Let cool in pan on a wire rack.

Marché Moderne: Simply mahvelous, darling!

The perfect lunch is not qualifiable by food alone. Yes, food is important, but there’s more to it than that. Little seemingly inconsequential details like cloth napkins. And comfortable chairs that don’t turn one’s backside numb. And table scrapers that collect up the bread crumbs from a warm, fragrant piece of French baguette.
Are these formal restaurant conveniences a requirement for the perfect midday meal? Not necessarily – my lunch at Ricky’s Fish Tacos was wonderful even without the proper utensils and products for wiping my mouth – but sometimes a lady needs to be treated as such. Especially if she spends any time in a Los Angeles bar.

When my mom and I arrived at Marché Moderne, a refined French bistro at South Coast Plaza in Orange County that many consider on par with the top restaurants in Los Angeles, my soul was haggard from a tough week up north. Despite the late hour – nearly 1:30 pm on Saturday – the restaurant still had a 15 minute wait time for a table. I felt bad making my already starving mother delay her lunch any further (I caught her sneaking a fun size Snicker’s bar before we left home), but my heart was set on dining at the highly-acclaimed restaurant.

Fortunately, I was able to lure my mom in with a promise to check out the Nordstrom’s sale next door while we waited. She was game. (Of course, she’s pretty much always game when it comes to pleasing her children.)

The sale proved to be a bust, so we quickly retreated back to the restaurant to gawk over the plates coming out of the kitchen instead. Oh how times have changed since my days of post-pubescent clothesession. On-sale Joe’s Jeans no longer thrill me like the sight of a scallop and shrimp salad with expertly sliced Persian cucumbers and avocado. My heart’s pitter patter continued to increase five-fold when my eyes fell upon pastry chef Ameliz Marneau’s prix fixe menu dessert – a dainty sliver of espresso cheesecake with a chocolate macaron crust.

“We may have to get dessert.” I whispered to my mom, my lips already parting with great gastronomical expectation.

As soon as we were seated at a corner cabana on the covered patio outside, all the concerns that had plagued me during the week finally weaned themselves from my body. The tranquil setting, the ambient background noise from our fellow diners’ quiet conversations, and the personable service tempered the neurotic whirring in my head.

Or at least the neurotic whirring as it relates to my social and professional life. (No amount of tranquility can keep me from fretting over what I’m going to order.)

At our exceedingly pleasant server’s recommendation, it –shockingly—didn’t take me long to decide upon the Santa Monica McGrath Family Farm beet salad with pinenuts, orange, goat cheese, and petit basil ($11). My mother opted for the light Market Greens with red wine vinaigrette, toasted walnut oil, cucumbers, and avocado ($7); and then we requested the Alsatian Tart Flambee with caramelized onion, smoke ham, crème fraiche, and cave aged Gruyere ($13) to share.

The time that lapsed between ordering and biting allowed my mom and I plenty of time to discuss my week’s affairs – the lame pick-up lines I received at my friend’s birthday party the night before (“Have you been here before?”), and my sitcom-worthy experience driving out to Intelligentsia Venice specifically for a cup of chai only to discover that they were out.

We enjoyed the pause – the time we were gifted to share a special moment with each other, but our lips were quickly silenced upon receipt of our meal.

While my beet salad with its creamy streaks of mild goat cheese was the type of affair that reminds me that I actually do like beets (apparently the chef marinates them immediately after they’ve been roasted), the Alsatian Tart Flambee is worth a repeat drive down the 405 from LA. The tender yeasty crust (essentially pizza dough), the sweet caramelized onions, and decadent comforter of crème fraiche and Gruyere were transformative for my bad mood.


“I want to take really small bites to make it last longer,” My mom confided. “The onions are so good.”

I nodded in agreement – also taking my time to cut each of my two slices into the smallest pieces possible. It was far too delicious to scarf down like my Amy’s frozen pizzas.

My mom and I concluded the meal just as I had hoped we would – with the espresso cheesecake ($8) from the 3-course lunch tasting menu that changes daily. Paired with a cup of the restaurant’s custom blend of coffee for my mom, and a pot of green tea for me, it was the perfect ending for our perfect indulgent ladies lunch. I can’t wait to have another bad week so I have an excuse to go back.

Marché Moderne
3333 Bristol St # 3001
Costa Mesa, CA‎

Phone: (714) 434-7900‎

Intelligentsia: Why I will never order coffee there again

Can I do it? I think as I approach the barista at Intelligentsia Coffee & Tea in Silver Lake on Saturday afternoon.

Can I actually order chai at a place renowned for its coffee?

I scrunch my face up and nudge my friend Anna. “So you’re getting a mocha?”

“Yep. Definitely in a mocha mood.” She answers confidently.

“Right.” I respond dully.

Am I in a mocha mood? I wonder, attempting to tap into my innermost cravings.

I think about the lingering aftertaste – the foul smell that will penetrate my tongue after I drink it. No, I don’t want coffee breath today, I decide. I want something sweet and spicy, but not too spicy. Perfectly spicy. With lots of foam.

I want a chai.

“So the chai is… err… good here?” I ask when I approach the counter.

“Yep.” The barista responds.

I nod at his noncommittal response. Duh Diana. Of course he’s going to say that. He isn’t exactly going to tell you it sucks! I berate myself.

“Okay, I’ll have the chai then.” I answer firmly after a moment’s hesitation. “Oh and can I get that with skim milk? Please?”

He nods, I smile sheepishly and then move away quickly before I start embarrassing myself any further.

“Chai?” Asks the other barista responsible for whipping up the drinks.

“That’s me!” I pipe up enthusiastically.

“Love the chai here.” He responds as he steers my brimming porcelain white cup and saucer across the counter.

I beam at him. “Really?! Because I wasn’t sure if I should get it…” I pause, glance at the long line of people behind me and cut myself off. “Right. Very good. Thank you!”

Anna and I find seats at the counter inside and I steel myself for disappointment. I’m picky when it comes to my chai. I prefer it to be sweet and milky rather than overly spicy, and it must must must be served with an ample layer of frothy foam.

I take a tentative first sip. A smile bursts across my face as the well-balanced chai saturates my tongue with flavor.


“It’s good!” I tell Anna with pride – clearly my act of ordering it has made it so.

I continue to rave until the subject grows wearisome, and then we move on to more serious matters like all the things I want to buy from the Cheese Store of Silver Lake next door.

“I think I want to get the ‘Ants on a log’ chocolate and maybe the Morning Glory chai cashew brittle. Or should I get the peanut fleur de sel flavor? Is it silly to spend $5.95 on three pieces of brittle?” I start rattling off as Anna sits quietly sipping her mocha.

Just another day in the life...

Intelligentsia Coffee & Tea
3922 W Sunset Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90029-2242

(323) 663-6173

Channeling Robin on Top Chef: A quinoa beet salad fail

I stare down at the mess on my fancy square white Crate & Barrel plate with slight apprehension.

It’s certainly… colorful.

I shake my head and dive my fork into the massive heap of roasted beets, quinoa, orange segments, roasted shallots, pomegranate seeds, arugula, feta cheese, and roasted chickpeas. I know before I even taste it that I’ve gone overboard with the ingredients. There are too many competing flavors and textures for my poor little mouth to handle. Despite my best efforts to make the ultimate fall quinoa salad, it’s a recipe fail.

It isn’t until the next day that I realize what exactly went wrong. I’m standing in my bathroom, brushing my teeth like I do every morning (I like a clean mouth), and it hits me.

I pulled a Robin on “Top Chef.”

I’ve gotten lots of giggles out of poking fun at the poor, slightly spastic cheftestant this season, but, ultimately, I’m not exactly making heads turn with all of my dishes either.

Just like Robin got overly excited about all the produce available for her to use during last week’s “Top Chef” elimination challenge at Craftsteak, I too got overly excited about all the ingredients I wanted to use in my salad. I was acting like a kid in a candy store at Whole Foods on Sunday – eyes bugging out over… well, everything.

The whole thing started because I was inspired by Gastronomy Blog’s recent post about how to roast beets. Cathy made the process sound so easy, and my mind immediately began composing a hearty salad with beets, orange segments and quinoa.

It would have been fine and dandy if I’d stuck to just a few basic flavors – namely, the beets, the orange segments, the quinoa, some feta, and the light vinaigrette dressing I made with orange juice, apple cider vinegar and honey – but I took it too far. The roasted chickpeas were particularly off-putting. The crunchy texture was a distraction rather than a delicious contrast to the tender beets. The peas were certainly not worth all the effort it took to peel the pesky skins off prior to roasting.

Fortunately, not all was lost. The salad was an antioxidant powerhouse, and I successfully roasted beets without staining my hands or, more importantly, scalding a good chunk of my arm like I did when I made pumpkin cookies the weekend prior. I just wish I liked beets as much as I think I do in my head. I ended up gifting the rest of my beet supply to my roommate last night. He quickly whipped up a dressing with Dijon mustard, olive oil and raspberry vinegar, and ate the beets sans any other accompaniment. I’m sure they tasted far better this way than they did when I blurred their flavor out with chickpeas and feta and oranges and arugula and pomegranate seeds and shallots on Sunday night.

For simple instructions on roasting beets check out Gastronomy Blog’s helpful how-to post.

Cube: My new essential restaurant

I’ve run by the restaurant at least a hundred times. I’ve probably driven by it a thousand times. I’ve read reviews, pored over the menu and even suggested it to others looking for a bite in my West Hollywood neighborhood.

Given my proximity and enthusiasm for the charming Italian café/cheese bar/marketplace that imports high-quality food products like a semi-soft raclette cheese from Switzerland, it would seem impossible that I haven’t actually eaten there. I like food. I love Italian. And I adore perusing marketplaces filled with hard-to-find grains like farro and (cough cough) quinoa, as well as tiny jars of expensive oils and specialty jams.

I knew I would love Cube Café and Marketplace before I even stepped foot in the casually hip space on La Brea Avenue last Thursday night – and not just because it has received Tony C. of Sino Soul’s hard-earned seal of approval. My only fear was that my high expectations were setting me up for inevitable disappointment. In a sense, Cube seemed almost too good to be true – it didn’t seem possible for there to be a reasonably priced restaurant of this quality within walking distance of my apartment. I’m not that lucky – even if I did win the (now seriously out of style) Kate Spade purse at my high school graduation nine years ago.

Despite the rain cloud of hype that was threatening to burst upon my first meal at the restaurant, my dining experience at Cube on Thursday was one of those rare nights when everything clicks. Looking back now, it almost seems a blur – like a distant memory or a dream that didn’t really happen – and not because of the amount of complimentary Prosecco or the bottle of 2006 Barbera d’Asti “Montebruna,” Braida ($44) that we drank over the course of our three hour evening.

It’s no big mystery that I’ve been making horrible ordering decisions lately. Even this weekend, I made a wrong move at my favorite Pizzeria Mozza when I selected the clam pie for my entrée (I’m still pining over the chanterelles, fontina, scallions, pancetta & thyme pizza). At Cube on Thursday night, however, horrible ordering decisions didn’t seem to exist. Or at least they didn’t for my party of four. Every dish we ordered – which included a formaggi e salumi plate, three shared appetizers, three entrees, three sides, two additional pasta dishes, and four desserts – was a “winner.” Yes, some dishes outshone others, but there wasn’t a single one deserving of a “dunce” hat or a “time out” in the corner.

From the lush pillow of mimmo’s burratta with charred greens, swiss chard, heirloom tomatoes, roasted cipilloni onions, and aged balsamic ($14), to the fork-tender apple balsamic braised bacon with Italian white figs, celery root mash ($12), to the braised baby octopus with charred radicchio, cipillini onion marmelata ($8) that could (almost) rival the tasty tentacles at the big O Mozza down the street, our appetizers were seamlessly executed. I could continue to wax poetic about the rest of our courses – in particular my tender gnocchi with braised oxtail ragu, red cow parmesan ($13), but it seems beside the point. Plus, there are only so many synonyms for “delicious” and “yummy,” as Rachael Ray knows all too well.

Cube may not have found a place on Jonathan Gold’s list of 99 Essential LA Restaurants this past year, but it has found a place on my essential LA restaurant list – for the flawless service, for the well-prepared seasonally-inspired menu, and for, most importantly, not making me kick myself for ordering the wrong thing. I recommend… everything pictured below. Especially the octopus, braised bacon, gnocchi, and pumpkin ice cream pie. Just be sure to make an appointment with the physical trainer for the morning after.

Cube Café and Marketplace
615 N. La Brea Avenue
Los Angeles, California 90036
Phone: (323) 939-1148, x.1
Fax: 323-939-5520

Formaggi e salumi plate

Mimmo’s burrata - charred greens, swiss chard, veggies, heirloom tomato, roasted cipollini onions, aged balsamic ($14)

Braised baby octopus - charred radicchio, cipollini onion marmelata ($8)

Apple balsamic braised bacon with Italian white figs, celery root mash ($12)

Ricotta & Kabocha squash gnocchi brown butter, sage, toasted hazelnuts ($9)

Chestnut quadrucci roasted chestnuts, bacon, brown butter, white wine, chestnut honey, pecorino $10/$14

Gnocchi with braised oxtail ragu, red cow parmesan $13/$9

Seasonal greens ($6)

Roasted sunchokes ($6)

Fresh strangozzi with spicy lamb & fennel ragu, pecorino $10/$14

Fall spiced duck breast roasted cauliflower puree, seasonal greens $23

Baked 4 cheese mac and cheese with charred heirloom tomato, truffle salt $8

Cobbler duo Tahitian vanilla gelato - D’anjou pear and blackberry & raspberry $8

Bread pudding & fresh fig compote and fresh cream $8Pumpkin ice cream pie with fresh cream, toasted pumpkin seeds $8

Valrhona chocolate olive oil cake with hazelnut semifreddo, chocolate sauce $8

Pizzeria Mozza: Where chicken livers are a treat, not a trick

When Cathy, “The Gastronomer,” declared she wanted to order chicken liver bruschetta ($9) as one of our shared appetizers at Pizzeria Mozza on Saturday night, I was a bit hesitant.

Okay, fine, I was horrified.

I do attempt to keep an open mind about food, and have enjoyed other kinds of liver in the past (hello foie gras croque monsieur), but chicken livers sounded… well, like cat food. Or like something the mom of a robust family is forced to eat because all the bratty kids call dibs on the legs and thighs and breast meat.

Despite my reservations, I shrugged my shoulders and went with it. We were at Pizzeria Mozza after all, and, as far as I’m concerned, the resto can do no harm. (Except when they run out of the seasonal pumpkin gelato at the precise moment that I try to order it for dessert. Wah wah.)

At first, I was relieved when I saw that the bruschetta came with only three pieces. That meant that two in our party of four would have to split one, and I wouldn’t have to attempt to choke down more than four lady-like bites if I found it repulsive. Unfortunately, my clever plan to shun as much chicken liver as possible was foiled as soon as I bit into my half of bruschetta. It was delicious. So delicious that I spent the next couple minutes enviously watching Cathy and her fiancee Vern devour the rest of their full pieces with audible sighs of pleasure.

Along with the chicken livers, our table also ordered another antipasti I’d never tried at the resto before – the Brussels sprouts with prosciutto breadcrumbs ($12). While we expected the Brussels to be served warm, we ultimately loved the combination of the room temperature green veggies that were tossed with a generous serving of a tangy balsamic vinegar-based dressing before being topped off with the texturally pleasing breadcrumbs.
Later, as I took charge on the clams, garlic, oregano, parmigiano, and pecorino pizza that I’ve enjoyed on a previous occasion (I actually found it to be a little fishy for my tastes on Saturday), my favorite bartender/server Sean stopped by to say “hello.”

“Still good?” He asked with a smile.

“Still good!” I said and beamed back – thrilled to be there instead of with the crazies on Santa Monica Blvd. for the Halloween parade.

After he’d departed from our table, Cathy leaned in to whisper, “I can see why this is your favorite restaurant.”

I nodded in agreement. Even with the occasional misfire, Pizzeria Mozza still never fails to surprise, challenge and trick me into delighting in something new. I can’t wait to go back for visit #9 -- next up, bone marrow.

Pizzeria Mozza
641 N Highland Ave
Los Angeles, CA 90036
(323) 866-5300

Skor Bar Coffee Cake: The perfect mid-morning pick-me-up

The teacher’s lounge at an elementary school is a dangerous place for dieters. My mom, a first grade teacher in Garden Grove, is constantly telling me about the treats that her coworkers bring in on a regular basis.

“Today someone brought donuts!” She’ll exclaim, as giddy as the students she teaches. (Her sweet tooth is almost as potent as mine.)

I typically roll my eyes and say, “Great, mom,” before changing the subject to something more important – like what I’m making for dinner or how hard “thigh” was during my Bar Method class that night. As a 9 to 5 office dweller, I don’t quite understand how necessary that mid-morning burst of sugar is for getting through a day of educating rugrats with short attention spans.

As much as my mom loves her raised glazed donuts, her favorite pick-me-up from the teacher’s lounge is actually the Skor Bar Coffee Cake one of her former colleagues used to make on special occasions. My mom enjoyed the cake so much that she eventually got the recipe so she could make it for my brothers and me at home. It was an instant favorite in our house – especially when it was still warm and gooey from the oven.

Today, the Skor Bar Coffee Cake is my go-to recipe when I need an easy crowd-pleasing treat for a party or office celebration. It’s not hard to see why everyone loves this cake – it contains a pound of brown sugar and six Skor candy bars. Paula Deen would certainly approve, but I’m not sure any nutritionist would go near the thing.

Regardless, when insulin levels get low, the Skor Bar Coffee Cake will come through every time. Just don’t feed it to the rugrats – they won’t just be bouncing off the walls, they’ll be bouncing off the roof.

Skor Bar Coffee Cake

1 lb dark brown sugar
2 cups flour
½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter
6 Skor (or Heath) bars, broken into pieces
1 cup of milk (I used skim)
1 egg
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon vanilla
¼ teaspoon salt

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Using a fork, blend the dark brown sugar with the flour and softened cube of butter. Set aside 1 cup of the crumb mixture for the topping.

To rest of flour/sugar mixture, add the milk, egg, baking soda and vanilla. Gently fold together the ingredients until well-combined and then pour into ungreased 9 x 13 pan. Top with crumb mixture and then finish with Heath bar pieces.

Bake for 30 to 40 minutes (mine was down at 35 minutes). Test for doneness with a toothpick.