groove food

"that's bananas!"

i like: hog island oysters. avocados. banana gelato from pappalecco. finding unexpected money in my pocket. extra virgin olive oil. good sea salt. banana pudding, as a term of endearment. chubby babies. big sur. streusel. andy warhol's banana album cover for the velvet underground. lemon zest. banana-flavored taffy. dogs with overbites. cherrios with bananas. picnics with you. bananas with bananas. fish taco stands. bananagrams. banoffee pie. stevie nicks. people exclaiming "that's bananas!" overripe bananas.

there is a 1 in 2 chance that if i like something, it has to do with bananas. they are manna from earth, rich in potassium, manganese, dietary fiber, and amino acids, and known to boost memory, not to mention mood. like most produce, they were designed for our health and happiness. bananas are just extra-inspired. almost sensual in texture (certainly in shape), they lend the most sunny perfume to any dish you put them in. talking about them brings out my inner bubba gump; my appetite knows no bounds. nothing beats the ritual of peeling and eating a perfect banana, except perhaps joining them with mountains of whipped cream and buttery pie crust. i've done my share of banana research. a list of favorites follows.

10+ things to do with bananas

1. quick caramelized bananas: slice a banana in half lengthwise, sprinkle liberally with sugar and cinnamon and slip it under the broiler. serve solo, or with yogurt.

2. convincing evidence that things that start with the same letter taste good together: banana brown butter cake with chocolate chips from nicole rees at fine cooking. (recipe)

3. make plaintain chips. shower with sea salt and a bold squeeze of lime. (recipe)

4. david lebovitz loves bananas & treats them so right: banana-brown sugar ice cream (recipe). his recipe for banana souffle in ready for dessert makes me spin on the name alone.

5. overripe bananas? the obvious answer: banana bread! a recipe exists for every mood, personality, and occasion. here are a few favorites:

* for the kid in you: peanut butter banana bread from joy the baker (recipe)

* for serving on fine china: molly of orangette's banana bread with chocolate & crystallized ginger (recipe)

* for the "hair of the dog" crowd: morning-after banana bread with espresso & whisky from chez pim (recipe)

* for the purist: merrill of food52's banana bread from an old cookbook, forum feasts (recipe)

* for the naturalist: healthy cherry, banana, and oatmeal breakfast bread from susan of flood blogga (recipe)

6. make a raw chocolate-banana shake a la my partner in crime, anita lee: almond or cashew milk, raw chocolate or cocoa nibs, frozen banana, dates, cinammon & few cubes of ice. blend like crazy & drink with a straw.

7. fritter 'em: pineapple & banana fritters from gourmet magazine are what i imagine they sell at the county fair in waikiki (recipe), or if you like it double hot try spicy banana fritters (hint: they get a nice slick of sriracha rooster sauce) from a cozy kitchen (recipe)

8. bananas for dinner? bring it. thai-style halibut with banana curry & peanuts gives breakfast a run for its money (recipe). or, try steaming shrimp in banana leaves with ginger and herbs.

9. it might not be pumpkin pie season, but that wouldn't stop me from making the barefoot contessa's pumpkin banana mousse tart, and it shouldn't stop you. one of my all time favorite desserts (recipe). for the classicists, nothing tops banana cream pie, and this recipe from the san francisco chronicle is no exception (recipe).

10. when in doubt, do as the king did. elvis was famous for blue suede shoes and banana, peanut butter & bacon sandwiches. legend has it they were served on griddled hawaiian bread and drizzled with honey.

romeo vs. romesco

romeo

romesco

romeo

romesco

on looks alone, romeo of the house of montague and romesco sauce have little in common. one is a dewy-skinned, love-drunk teenager, the other is a sauce in sanguine tones, drunk on nothing other than how good it tastes...on everything. romeo is characterized by his proclivity for grandiosity and his fine skills with a rapier. romesco is known for its bright, acidic tang of tomatoes, tempered by roasting, warm layers of olive oil-toasted nuts, and a whisper of heat from peppers and chili. romeo hails from verona, romesco from catalonia. one is a thing of fiction, the other is a sauce. to that i say: every object of the world needs something to adore it with fervor and ferocity. romeo had juliet, romesco has me. i sing its praises on slow-cooked eggs and roasted potatoes. i like it dolloped on robust cuts of meat, or a fleshy filet of fish the moment it's pulled from a charcoal grill. dunking vegetables or a warm heel of bread? yes, please. i like to sneak it by the spoonful at a party, in secret. i haven't tried eating it in costume, or on a balcony, but i fully intend to do so. though typically made in the height of summer with fresh tomatoes and peppers, i developed a recipe using canned tomatoes and jars of peppers from the pantry, so i could have it all year round. fortunately, the only tragedy involving romesco is when my supply is depleted. i prefer being starry-eyed to star-cross'd. with a bit of time in the kitchen and a short list of ingredients, romesco lives on.

romesco sauce, mostly from the pantry

(makes about 2 cups of sauce)

one 28-ounce can whole, peeled tomatoes, drained of juices (preferably san marzano)

6 large cloves of garlic, unpeeled

1 cup jarred, roasted bell peppers (about 3 whole), drained of juices

15 blanched hazelnuts

1/4 cup blanched almonds

about 3/4 cup - 1 cup extra virgin olive oil

1 tablespoon sherry vinegar

pinch red chili flakes

sea salt & freshly cracked pepper

preheat oven to 250. coat the bottom of a 9 x 13 inch roasting pan (or similarly sized) with a slick of olive oil. cut the canned tomatoes in half, scrape out their seeds, and place them cut side down in the roasting pan. nestle the unpeeled garlic cloves in alongside them and drizzle the whole thing with about 1 - 2 tablespoons of the olive oil, and sea salt and cracked black pepper. roast for 2 - 2 1/2 hours, until the tomatoes have shrunken in size and have begun to brown.

remove the tomatoes to the bowl of a food processor fitted with a metal blade. squeeze the roasted garlic pulp from the peel onto the tomatoes.

place 3 tablespoons of the olive oil and the hazelnuts and almonds in a medium saute pan over medium-low heat. watch carefully, and as soon as the nuts are fragrant and light brown, remove from the heat, and add all the contents of the pan to the food processor.

add the jarred roasted peppers, sherry vinegar, a pinch of red chili flakes and a pinch of sea salt and black pepper to the contents of the food processor. pulse the contents until they have formed a rough paste. then, with the processor running, pour in about 1/2 cup of olive oil in a slow, steady stream. the goal is a thick sauce, with a velvety texture. add more olive oil until you have achieved your desired consistency.

notes

* romesco sauce keeps will in the refrigerator for 1.5 weeks. i like it equally served cold or at room temperature.

* as mentioned above, romesco is delicious on eggs, frittata, roasted or grilled vegetables, roasted or grilled meat or fish, crudite, or toasted bread or pita. i encourage a limitless imagination in matters of romesco.

* if you can find jarred piquillo peppers from spain, use them in lieu of jarred roasted bell pepper. it is a special treat.

 

songs & scenes

the kitchen is my safest place. i lean on the fact i am always aware of how much vanilla extract is in the pantry, or where i can find my favorite spoon. the weight of an empty baking dish is always the same as i lug it from a cupboard, and filling it with something is a small triumph in a stream of uncertainty. the kitchen is whatever i need it to be--sometimes i go to focus, sometimes to escape. there is always music. there is always something to be done. and at the end of the day, there is something to eat, even when there isn't an answer.

b.b. king - how blue can you get? (live in cook county jail) - listen

m. ward - here comes the sun again - listen

nina simone - i want sugar a little sugar in my bowl - listen

bon iver - re: stacks -listen

massive attack - paradise circus - listen

megafaun - bonnie's song - listen

four tet - she just likes to fight -listen

lykke li - i know places - listen

notes:

* all images from march 21, 2011. all songs from a stack of albums from the del mar public library or pulled from my iPod

dinner with dot, take 2

would you trust these two women to make you dinner? some might say there are more substantial questions to consider. like this one:

the physics of cooking teaches us to choose our heat transfer agents and cooking methods wisely. i believe equal attention should be given to the selection and maintenance of strawberries.

i mean, really, is there any happier chore than hulling strawberries? especially with your best friend, who happens to go by dot, mutually barefoot in a warm kitchen, as an ambivalent rain shares the sky with quiet stretches of sunlight. 

i wish every sunday afternoon could be devoted to making dinner with dot. she might be the only other human i know that geeks out on uncut, craggy stalks of rhubarb before they've been groomed for a crumble. alas, there is a whole lot of highway 1 between del mar and carmel-by-the-sea. albeit beautiful.

the thing is, because i only get to make dinner with dot every, oh, fiscal quarter, it sets the whole day in a desperate sort of slow motion. hours become minutes, but then a few moments can languorously braise an entire pot roast. or roast two chickens.

dot tided over the cooks and chess-players with little puff pastry tarts filled with the last of her local chanterelles, plus plenty of brie, a cheese which only expounds on its gooey, runny, luscious nature by a round in the oven.

earlier in the afternoon, i'd slipped a sheet pan of red grapes in a low oven for 2 1/2 hours of oven-drying.  shallots enclosed in a homemade foil envelope nestled in beside them, and everything got a healthy drizzle of olive oil, salt, pepper, and fresh thyme. everything emerged an even richer version of itself.

the oven-dried grapes acted as centerpiece for a salad, the roasted shallots were pulverized with sherry vinegar and olive oil to become its dressing. and a little applewood smoked bacon and ricotta salata never hurt anyone. the recipe follows at the end of this post.

dot roasted two pasture-raised chickens in the style of thomas keller. watching her carve them tableside, spooning everything over with thyme-scented juices, was the theater for the night. you can find thomas keller's simple roast chicken recipe here.

perfect roast chicken is satisfying on its own, eaten straight from the cutting board, without the aid of a fork, knife, or plate. any "oyster" lover would agree. however, dot's crispy-skinned, creamy-centered red potatoes are the ultimate counterpoint for soaking up all those juices. also lovely: fat spears of asparagus, grilled in a cast iron skillet, and doused in garlic and lemon infused olive oil.

in my book, kids who eat salad are pretty much allowed to do whatever they'd like for the rest of the night at the table, including providing the most enlightening expose on the toothfairy. ever.

lastly, dessert. i'd found a recipe for strawberry rhubarb crumble that used spelt flour and toasted pine nuts in the crumble portion of the recipe. dot and i decided the fruit deserved a poetic, haunting pour of st. germain, an elderflower liqueur, before it hit the oven.

if you are like me, you are probably always looking for ever newer ways to consume that magical duo of strawberry and rhubarb. i can only liken the taste to a smell: "my little pony." no matter how many times i played with my beloved set of my little ponies as a kid, they always smelled sweet, like cereal milk and lipgloss. or a cluster of honeysuckle that had baked in the back seat of the car on a spring day.

the strawberries and the rhubarb, tinged with boozy flower fields, and topped with a crunchy rubble of spelt, oats, pine nuts, and butter, just struck the right chord. vanilla ice cream, as it tends to do, made a whole mess of it. all the better.

notes & recipes

* dot has a floral design shop & studio in carmel california: rose hip! it beats disneyland as the happiest place on earth. should you be in the neighborhood, i urge you to visit: rose hip floral design @ the crossroads shopping village, 243 crossroads blvd., carmel, ca 93923. the bouquet above was courtesy of dot & rose hip. sleeping next to it actually made me dream about flowers.

* for more information on st-germain, visit here.

the recipes from the night...

arugula and mache salad with oven-dried grapes, bacon, ricotta salata and roasted shallot dressing

(serves 6)

4 ounces baby arugula

4 ounces mache 

1 lb. seedless red grapes

4 small shallots, peeled

2 teaspoons thyme leaves

1/2 lb. applewood smoked bacon, 1/4 inch diced, and pan-fried until crispy

1/4 cup sherry vinegar

2 tablespoons honey

3/4 cup extra virgin olive oil + 2 tablespoons

sea salt and cracked black pepper

4-6 ounces ricotta salata

preheat oven to 250. stem half of the red grapes, leave the remaining grapes in clusters. place the grapes on a rimmed baking sheet and drizzle 1 tablespoon of olive oil and 1 teaspoon of thyme leaves. place the shallots on a sheet of aluminum foil and drizzle with 1 tablespoon of olive oil and the remaining thyme leaves. sprinkle the grapes and shallots with sea salt and freshly cracked paper. enclose the shallots in the foil. place the pan in the oven and bake until the shallots are very soft and the grapes shriveled and lightly caramelized. let the grapes cool slightly before removing the unstemmed grapes from their stems. place all of the grapes in a bowl and set aside to cool to room temperature.

place the shallots and all of the pan juices into the bowl of a food processor fitted with a blade. add the sherry vinegar and honey and process until smooth. slowly drizzle in the 3/4 cup olive oil and a steady stream with the processor running until the dressing is well combined. remove to a jar or cup and cool to room temperature.

toss the arugula, mache, bacon, and half of the oven-dried grapes in a large salad bowl. add dressing gradually, tossing to coat, until the salad is just lightly dressed (you will have plenty of dressing leftover for another use). divide the salad among individual plates and top each with additional grapes. use a vegetable peeler to shave ricotta salata over each serving. drizzle with a little additional dressing, sea salt and cracked black pepper, if desired. serve immediately.

(this recipe was adapted from bon appetit, november 2006)

strawberry rhubarb crumble with spelt flour & pine nuts

(serves 8 - 10)

1 cup spelt flour

3/4 cup pine nuts, lightly toasted, and finely chopped

3/4 cup rolled oats

1/2 cup natural cane sugar

1/2 teaspoon sea salt

1/4 teaspoon cracked black pepper

1/2 cup melted unsalted butter

1/2 pound strawberries, hulled and cut into quarters

12 ounces trimmed rhubarb, cut into 3/4 inch pieces

1 tablespoon cornstarch

1/2 cup - 3/4 cup sugar (use more sugar for greener, tart rhubarb)

1/4 cup st-germain elderflower liqueur (optional)

set a rack in the middle of the oven and preheat to 375. butter a 10 inch round or oval baking dish, or a 9 inch square baking dish. 

combine the spelt flour, pine nuts, oats, 1/2 cup can sugar, sea salt, and black pepper in a medium mixing bowl. gently toss the ingredients together with a fork. add the melted butter and use a fork to stir the mixture. using your hands, squeeze the dough into a few patties. freeze the dough for at least twenty minutes.

toss the strawberries and the rhubarb with the cornstarch and 1/2 - 3/4 cup of sugar. wait five minutes, then add the st-germain, if you are using. transfer the filling tho the preparing pan. remove the topping from the freezer and crumble over the filling, making sure to leave a few large chunks.

transfer the dish to the oven (you may want to set it atop a piece of foil to catch any filling drips). bake for 35 - 40 minutes, until the topping is browned and the filling is bubbling. let the crumble rest for 20-30 minutes before serving, preferably with whipped cream or some kind of ice cream.

(this recipe was adapted from heidi swanson of the 101 cookbooks blog)

shrooms with a view

if you want mushrooms that look like this:

find them in a place that looks like this:

lay them to rest somewhere peaceful:

but not until they've been loved by a midas touch master:

beautiful things belong together where it's warm. in other words, cook them:

and keep them in good company:

the recipe that follows is from my dearest friend dot, aka lauren/lolo orman, who whipped up this impeccable brunch like she was pulling on a worn-in pair of jeans. i am fairly certain charlie parker had her carmel, california home in mind as the ultimate venue for listening to "my old flame." you're likely to turn up moonstones there, or pups named pickle, or find a chorus of tulips bowing into the afternoon. even the chanterelle mushrooms of big sur and environs request to spend their final days there, becoming the richest shade of brown their surface can tolerate. oh dear. i am talking in fable again. dot-style saturday brunches can have this effect. her simple recipe follows, almost entirely unaltered. i only wish i could give it to you in her handwriting--the toothfairy has dot on retainer for writing her notes. 

crustless quiche with chanterelle mushrooms and herb salad

For 2

2 eggs
1/4 cup cream, half & half, milk or other milk-like substance 
2 tbsp grated grana padano, pecorino or other tasty cheese of that family
1 tbsp finely chopped herb of your choice (I like flat leaf parsley or chives here)
Salt and fresh cracked pepper

Oven at 325.

Whisk eggs with other ingredients until light and fluffy.  Divide between two buttered ramekins and bake until the eggs have risen like a soufflé and just cooked through, 25 to 30 minutes.

Eat with dressed baby greens or:

Chanterelle Mushrooms with Herb Salad

For 2

4 large chanterelles, cut into even bits
1 clove of garlic, minced
Olive oil
Salt
Pepper (fresh cracked, lots)
Lemon
5 large basil leaves
Generous wad of flat leaf parsley and chives
CHEESE! Something soft and creamy like a Brie, or if you're an over achiever, brillat savarin or saint Andre. 

Sauté chanterelle mushrooms in a large pan with olive oil. When the mushrooms are nearly done (toasty gold and smelling like heaven) add an extra pour of olive oil and the garlic, stirring until cooked through and well incorporated. Salt and pepper to taste.

Gather herbs together and chiffonade. Toss in a bowl with a big squeeze of lemon juice, salt and pepper. 

Place small wedges of cheese on each plate.  Divide mushrooms between plates, placing them on or next to the cheese.  Top with the mixed herbs and drizzle with olive oil. 

garde manger: 03.19.11

food-minded friends of san diego: do you have plans for this saturday, march 19th between the hours of 6 p.m. and 10 p.m.? rarely do i use groove food as a forum for event promotion, but i don't want you to miss the chance to experience this collaboration of food and art at san diego's thumbprint gallery that also benefits a farm i am proud to support. a handful of talented local chefs chose themes and were paired off with visual artists for collaborative projects that open up the dialogue about food and art. matt kiser will be performing a live food demonstration, music by kayvon of flowolf will further flood your senses, and wine and hor d'ouevres will sustain you on your journey. there is no cover! go & enjoy! perhaps my favorite thing about this event is that 10% of the proceeds from the sale of the pieces will be donated to archi's acres, a local organic farm that not only grows the most clean, bright basil this pesto-lover has ever stumbled upon, but employs and trains active duty military and veterans in sustainable agriculture. i hope to see many of you there--the details:

notes:

* photos and promotional image are courtesy of jordan blechertas, this event's organizer

* for more information on archi' acres, visit them on the web or read about them at the new york times, here.

salad & surrender

if a salad is impeccably fresh, correctly dressed, and well-balanced, i will have a hard time not falling for it. i like them loaded with every item of produce in my reach, so each bite is a slightly different beast. fork placement becomes an act of adventure. i also like them simple--a tumbleweed of arugula slicked with a little lemon juice, olive oil and enough black pepper to make my wrist sore from cranking the mill. i like salads that are coquettish, hiding creamy nubbles of cheese, or the unexpected crunch of a walnut. then again, i like salads that are gangbusters, breaking up any thoughts, plans, duties, and designs, and forcing my surrender. for however long it takes, every one of my senses is at its command. this riff on the signature salad from balthazar restaurant in manhattan is of the gangbuster variety. the original has one ingredient for each letter in the word "balthazar," and bursts with flavor, texture, and color--spicy radish, sweet romaine, creamy avocado, crunchy fennel, purple radicchio, crisp-tender asparagus and green beans, bright lemon, earthy truffle, and opulent olive oil to round it all out. it takes a few extra steps to prepare, but it is well worth the trouble.

romaine, radicchio, asparagus, green bean, avocado, radish & fennel salad with lemon-truffle dressing

(serves 2 as a main, 4 as a starter)

1/2 pound asparagus, thin spears if possible, tough end removed

1/2 pound thin green beans, trimmed

1 lemon, preferably meyer, zest removed with a vegetable peeler

2 heads romaine, split in half vertically and sliced in 1/2 inch strips

1 head radicchio, split in half vertically, cored and sliced in 1/4 inch strips

4 small radishes, thinly sliced

1 small head fennel, split in half vertically, cored and sliced in ultra thin half moons

1 avocado, cut in 1/2 inch slices

for the lemon-truffle dressing:

2 tablespoons lemon juice

sea salt and cracked black pepper

6 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

2 tablespoons black or white truffle oil, depending on your preference

blanch the asparagus, green beans, and lemon zest: prepare a large pot of water and bring to a boil. while the water boils, prepare an ice bath in a large bowl by filling it with ice and water. add the asparagus to the boiling water and cook for 2-3 minutes, until the asparagus is tender but still slightly crisp. lift the asparagus out of the boiling water using a slotted spoon and remove it to the ice bath to stop the cooking. repeat with the green beans, cooking for 1-2 minutes, and removing to the ice bath. finally, add the lemon zest strips to the boiling water and cook for 1 minute, also removing them with a slotted spoon to the ice water bath. dry the asparagus and lemon zest on clean towels or paper towels. cut the asparagus into 2 inch lengths and finely mince the zest until you have about 1 tablespoon of zest. set the zest aside for the dressing.

assemble the dressing: place the minced lemon zest and lemon juice in a medium mixing bowl with a pinch of sea salt and a few grinds of black pepper. slowly drizzle in the olive oil, followed by the truffle oil, whisking constantly as the oils are added in order to emulsify the dressing.

assemble and dress the salad: place the romaine, radicchio, radishes, fennel, asparagus, green beans and avocado in a large salad bowl. drizzle a small amount of dressing over the salad and gently toss to combine. add more dressing according to your taste. divide among plates and serve immediately.

notes

* if you cannot find or do not like truffle oil, substitute olive oil or flaxseed oil

* toasted breadcrumbs or homemade croutons can only make this more of a powerhouse. add some roasted beets and you've charted new territory.

* balthazar is located at 80 spring street, new york, ny. visit them on the web.

a grateful cake

what just happened? i woke up, checked my blog and a month had passed. poof! well, not exactly.

i know that somewhere in there i suffered a cold that snubbed every virgin hot toddy and dutiful dose of amoxicillan i sent its way. yes, some of the month i spent simply having a cold and bitching about it. i've decided never to do that again.

i would rather invite 20 of the dearest (translate: hottest) women in my life over and make them a four course vegan dinner and tell them why i love each of them. when the heart labors, it hardly ever feels like work. i have pictures to prove this evening actually happened last month, or else i might insist i daydreamed it on a park bench at the little italy farmers market, hopped up on antibiotics, clutching a bag of pea tendrils, wondering how they might achieve maximum seductiveness. "pea tendrils" sound very sweet, but i assure you they are not. especially when bedded with a musky blend of slow roasted wild mushrooms that only talk in whispers.

at some point in the past month, i entertained the idea of starting another blog based on a diet that intrigued me. another blog? yes, sign me up! i have so much free time! i developed several recipes for this pet project of mine that i will share here soon. the new blog may be in permanent hibernation, but the food was tasty.

so, groove food, i am back. for no other reason than to cook, savor, and share about it as an extension of my gratitude. starting with cake! a cake i urge you to make because i desire your happiness. a cake that is fragrant of oranges, toasty with whole wheat flour and ground almonds, and moist with olive oil. a cake that seems like it should be harder to make based on its sublimity. a cake that tastes better each time you sneak a sliver of it over a series of days--until a month has vanished and only a plate of pebbly, orange crumbs remains for a cluster of tulips to nod over, like they were remembering something.

almond-olive oil cake

(makes two 10-inch delicious, vegan cakes. give one away to your favorite friend.)

2 1/4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

1 1/2 cups whole wheat pastry flour

2 cups organic sugar 

2 teaspoons baking soda

3/4 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon sea salt

1 1/4 cups very finely ground toasted marcona almonds (or use regular toasted almonds if you cannot find marcona)

3 cups freshly squeezed orange juice

1 cup of your favorite extra virgin olive oil

1/4 cup finely grated orange zest

2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar

1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

1 1/2 teaspoons pure almond extract

position a rack in the center of the oven and preheat to 350. oil two 10-inch springform pans. line the bottom of each with parchment that has been cut to fit them--do not oil the parchment.

sift the flours, sugar, baking soda, baking powder and salt together in a large mixing bowl. add 3/4 cup of the ground almonds (reserve the rest for later). gently whisk the ingredients together.

combine the orange juice, olive oil, orange zest, vinegar, vanilla, and almond extracts in another large mixing bowl and whisk until well-combined. pour the wet mixture into the dry mixture and whisk until the batter is smooth.

divide the cake batter evenly among the prepared pans. rotate the pans to level the batter and tap the pan lightly on the counter to remove any air pockets. bake for 40-45 minutes, or until the cakes are golden brown, the sides have pulled away from the pans, and a cake tester comes out clean. you may be tempter to pull the cakes sooner, but you want the cakes to be a tad dark.

place the cake on a cooling rack and run a small knife between the cakes and the pans. cool for ten minutes, and then remove the side ring of the springform pan. sprinkle 2 tablespoons of ground almonds over the top of the cakes. place a cake plate over the top of each cake and invert. the almonds will keep the cake from sticking to the plate. remove the pan and paper and sprinkle the remaining ground almonds over the top of the cake. you can also add a sprinkle of sea salt for a little extra kick. 

notes

* this recipe was adapted from the california olive ranch recipe

* you can use both cakes to make a layer cake. sandwich the layers with your favorite jam or, make a dairy or non-dairy cream cheese frosting