So some of you might remember that I posted this photo on FB with some obscure hints about holiday cooking:

Well, here is the big reveal:

They’re breadsticks in the shape of wheat sheafs!

How fun is this? That photo above was just the practice run, and I decided that I wanted to get something with a little more definition. This batch is from the recipe posted below:

I was looking for a fun way to do bread for my Thanksgiving soup course (before I decided to go Colonial, anyway), and this creative idea struck me. I’m usually a fan of soft breadsticks, but when they can look like this, I’ll make an exception for the crunchy kind.

They’re small, light, and depending on your choice of topping, savory and difficult to stop eating. They are great as a festive touch to a feast table, sides to the appetizer cheese course, poking out of a cornucopia, or artfully placed atop soup bowls.

Bonus: Because they’re crunchy, these breadsticks can be made several days ahead of time, shaving off just a little bit of the crazy preparation from a big holiday.

Wheat Sheaf Breadsticks

Ingredients:

• 3/4 cup lukewarm water
• 2 teaspoons honey
• 1 teaspoons salt
• 2 teaspoons instant yeast
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 2 cups flour
• 1 cup whole meal flour
• 1 egg, beaten with 1 Tbs. cold water
• heaping 1/3 cup sesame, poppy, or other seeds
• 1 Tbs. seasoned salt mixture

In a medium bowl, combine the warm water, honey, salt and yeast, and allow to sit for a few minutes, until frothy. Add the olive oil, then gradually add in the flour until you have a nice, supple, workable dough that pulls away from the sides of the bowl.

Turn out the dough on a clean, lightly floured surface. Knead for several minutes, until the dough bounces back when poked. Divide in half, cover with a clean tea towel, and allow to rise for about an hour, or until doubled in size.

Take one half of the dough and press or roll it out into a 9″x12″ rectangle. Brush with the beaten egg, and sprinkle evenly with half of the seeds and seasoned salt. Press the top lightly to push the seeds in a little. Use a sharp knife (a pizza cutter is better) to cut the dough into strips 1/2″ wide.

Taking each end of a strip in each of your hands, twist until the topping side is spiraled all around in a pretty manner. Place on a parchment-lined baking sheet, and repeat with the rest. To make the decorative tops, snip around the end of the dough strip with a sharp pair of kitchen shears, overlapping your snips. It’s totally fine if they’re not perfect- just call it “rustic!”

Preheat the oven to 425F. Allow the twists to rise for about 30 minutes, then bake for about 12 minutes, until they are just slightly tipped with brown.

“Arrived at Dr. Tufts where I found a fine Wild Goose on the Spit and Cranberries in the Skillet for Dinner”

– John Adams, April 8, 1767

For the first of my colonial Thanksgiving recipes, I’m starting with the basics.

Even I, a former picky eater, would have to agree that no Thanksgiving is complete without cranberry sauce. The modern variety is often mixed up with citrus peel and a variety of other ingredients that might not have been readily available in colonial era New England.

When I saw a version of this recipe online, I knew I had to try it. Thank goodness for good instincts, because it’s great. Simple enough to make over a campfire, I’d wager, this recipe is about as basic as it gets, but no less delicious for all that. The finished cranberries retain enough of their structure to be more easily added to a fork than modern sauce. Especially if one’s fork only has two or three tines, as many colonial forks did. The brandy taste is there, but because it cooked off, it’s mostly the tasty flavors left, rather than the alcohol. Just sweet enough, with the tartness of the berries shining through, it’s a great and easy addition to a holiday table.

(Sidenote: My mother’s family grew up calling cranberry sauce, “plutz”. Anyone else heard of that?)

 Skillet Cranberries Recipe

Serves 4-6, so at least double for a large group

Ingredients:

• 1 pound fresh cranberries
• 2 cups turbinado or other raw sugar
• ¼ cup brandy or rum

Spread the cranberries in the bottom of a skillet. Sprinkle the sugar over them and place in an oven set to about 275F for about an hour, or until the berries are very soft. Remove from the oven and carefully pour in the brandy or rum to deglaze the pan, careful of hot spatters. Stir gently if needed to unstick any berries from the bottom of the skillet. You can either return the skillet to the oven or cook on the stovetop until the alcohol evaporates.

Can be made several days ahead of time, and kept in the fridge. Bring to room temperature before serving.

“The boy is fond of sweets… Cakes and pies, jams and jellies, honey on the comb. Perhaps a pinch of sweetsleep in his milk, have you tried that? Just a pinch, to calm him and stop his wretched shaking.”

-A Feast for Crows

People of the Northern Hemisphere.

Autumn is upon us, and that means obligatory recipes involving pumpkins.

Although, I have to admit that making and testing this recipe was not exactly a hardship. I did eat a great deal of the finished spread, just to make sure it was fit to share. You see the sacrifices I make for you?

Totally worth it.

I had the craving several months ago to make some pumpkin butter, but it was well before those lovely gourds came into season. I even eyed the canned pie filling in the pantry. And then the summer was over, as well as half of autumn, and now you can’t drive 10 minutes anywhere in New England without seeing a heap of pumpkins.

The smooth spread, made from a smallish pie pumpkin slow roasted in the oven, tastes of the season. Cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, and clove complete the classic pairing. It’s warm and comforting, despite the knowledge that with the appearance of pumpkins, winter is coming.

I haven’t made enough to put up yet, but rest assured that I soon will. Although, I bet that in a mid-winter pinch, one could use canned pumpkin to great effect. Perhaps I’ll test that in the grimness of February, when any taste of any other season is very welcome. You know. For science.

Where in Westeros?

The Vale, for starters.

While pumpkin butter isn’t specifically mentioned, the Vale is known to produce pumpkins. Given the unpredictable political scene across Westeros, I imagine a savvy cook would put away whatever she could get her hands on, both as straight canned pumpkin, and as its fancier cousin. We know from the books that little Robin Arryn loves sweet foods, and I can easily imagine him scarfing down more than his fair share of spice pumpkin butter to break his fast, while Alayne nibbled elegantly at a piece of toasted bread with a bit scraped over the top.

 Spiced Pumpkin Butter Recipe

Ingredients:

• 1 small pie pumpkin, about 4 lb.
• 1/4 cup maple syrup or honey (but definitely go for the maple)
• 1-2 Tbs. apple cider vinegar
• 1 cup brown sugar
• 1/4 cup apple juice
• 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
• 1 teaspoons ground ginger
• pinch each nutmeg, cloves

Preheat the oven to 350°F, and line a small baking dish with aluminium foil or parchment paper. Place the pumpkin on this dish, and roast in the oven until it’s very soft and starting to slump. Remove from oven.

When the pumpkin has cooled, slice it up. Remove the seeds (they’re delicious roasted!) and scrape the now-soft flesh from the skin. Using a submersible blender, puree the pumpkin until it reaches a smooth consistency. Move the puree to a saucepan over medium heat. Stir in the remaining ingredients and continue to cook, stirring occasionally, until it has thickened considerably, and is a nice rich color, probably at least 30 minutes.

The finished pumpkin butter should be great for several weeks in the fridge, and if you pop some in the freezer, it should keep until you can get a hold of next year’s pumpkins…

When I survived a week of pulling an average of 3 squash a day from the garden, I knew that more drastic measures were called for. A nipping in the bud, as it were. Literally.

These squash blossoms are stuffed with soft goat cheese, lightly battered, then fried to a crisp golden brown. The cheese gets warm and creamy, and the tartness of the cheese goes nicely with the slight salt from the batter. They are light and flavorful, but the real joy is knowing that you are eating squash-that-will-not-be…

Who in Westeros would eat these?

I imagine the Tyrells. Since their plentiful harvest assures them of a well stocked larder, they could easily spare some blossoms here and there.

Recipe for Fried Squash Blossoms

Cook’s Notes: You can also use zucchini and pumpkin flowers! If you like, add some finely chopped herbs to the goat cheese for a little added flavor.

Ingredients:

• 3 ounces goat cheese
• 10-12 squash blossoms
• 1 cup flour
• 1 cup cold water
• 1 tsp. salt
• oil for frying, ~1 1/2 cups

Bring the skillet of oil up to a medium heat.

Make your batter by quickly whisking together the flour, cold water, and salt. Set aside.

Carefully squish about 1 tsp. of goat cheese into the bottom of each squash flower, then sort of squish the petals closed. Holding them by the stems, dip each stuffed blossom into the batter, making sure to coat each side and let any excess drip off.

Drop the battered flowers into the oil and allow to cook for about a minute on each side, or until a light golden brown and crispy. Remove to a plate lined with paper towels to drain. Sprinkle with a little extra salt, and enjoy!

“By the time the telling was done, it was dark outside and Sam was licking his fingers. ‘That was good, but now I’d like a leg of lamb. A whole leg, just for me, sauced with mint and honey and cloves. Did you see any lambs?’” -A Clash of Kings

Thoughts:

This was one meal that really invoked the spirit of the North. Because Sam is the one dreaming about this dish, I could definitely see it being served during a time when the Night’s Watch wasn’t struggling quite so much as they are when we last see them. After all, Jon and Sam’s feast after taking their vows involved rack of lamb and berries with sweet cream.

But this really put me in mind of Winterfell- long trestle tables groaning with heavy platters, heaped with meat and sauce. The smell of roasting meat on spits wafting from those huge blazing hearths. The clink of knives on plates, and the glug of ale and mead being poured into mugs.

YES.

This recipe was delicious. I loved the sauce, but didn’t think there was nearly enough of it. I served this at Easter dinner, and the meat-to-sauce ratio was definitely skewed. I’d suggest doubling it if you are working with a hefty portion of lamb. The meat itself came out perfectly, tender and just pink. It was tasty on its own from being basted with the drippings, but paired with the sauce it was wildly better. I can’t wait for another special occasion to break this out again!

Recipe for Leg of Lamb, in dark beer, honey, and spices

Ingredients:

• 1 leg of lamb, bone in (mine was a monster 7 pounder for Easter dinner)
• 2 cups dark beer, such as stout or porter
• 1 cup honey, divided in half
• 1 Tbs. juniper berries, crushed
• 3 bay leaves
• 2 tsp. whole cloves
• mint?

Preheat the oven to 375F. Combine the beer, honey, juniper, bay leaves, and cloves in the bottom of a deep roasting pan, then set the leg of lamb on top. Season the lamb liberally with salt and pepper. Cook approximately 15 minutes per pound, basting every 10-15 minutes or so. The interior temperature of the lamb should reach 130F, at which point it should be done.

Remove from the oven, cover loosely with tin foil, and allow to rest for about 10 minutes before carving.

Strain the drippings into a separate bowl, and skim off as much of the fat as you can. You can either serve the remaining mix straight with the lamb as a sauce, or simmer gently with a bit of fresh mint. I loved the flavor without mint so much that I didn’t bother adding any in, but those who are sticklers for accuracy to the books will want to include it.

Enjoy!

So, you all know by now that the blog isn’t one of those sites that frequently plugs products online. In fact, I’ve never posted anything of the sort, preferring to focus on the recipes and food.

But there are exceptions to every rule, and when I accidentally stumbled onto these amazing drinking mugs, made by a couple of crazy talented artisans, I knew I had to share them with you.   Chischilly Pottery has its online shop on Etsy, and the mother/son run storefront is packed to the gills with some incredible works of art, in the form of functional drinking vessels. The mugs are loosely modeled after ancient Persian rhytons, which were a type of drinking vessel that could not be set down until emptied. Thankfully, these designs include a kind of kick-stand handle that allows it to be set down (not to mention beautifully displayed!) after the first third of a beverage is consumed. Genius.  Especially since this mug holds well over 750 ml of liquid- the amount in one of Ommegang’s GoT beers.

Drinking from this mug makes me feel like a badass lady she-wolf of Winterfell. I want to wrap myself up in furs and sit at a long feast table, devouring roasted meat and starchy veg, with lots of bacon, and lots of ale. Like, barrels of ale. I’d better get to brewing…

I still can’t decide which design is my favorite, although the wolves are awesome. But then again, so are the dragons. Love the Lannisters? They have lions! Boars, rams, Dothraki stallions, and more. Take a browse through the shop, and tell me which design you like best! I know what a few friends and family members are getting for gifts this year…

Also take a moment to give a well-deserved “like” to Chischilly Pottery on Facebook! They’re having a summer sale, so go snag a mug while you can, and be sure to say you came from The Inn!

At this year’s premiere party, thanks to the suggestion of my friend Alix, our guests and I collaborated to create a Westeros-themed version of the hit game Cards Against Humanity. One of the coolest things about the original is that it is under a creative commons license, which means that the creators encourage sharing, playing, and adapting the game, so long as no profit is made.

Which is completely awesome, because it enabled us to play several uproarious rounds of our own version. When I mentioned this game on my premiere party blogpost, a number of you expressed hope that I would create a playable deck. I’ve finally gotten to it, and many of the cards are as funny as I remembered. Because it was a new game, we had on hand a bunch of blank cards, and everyone could write in their suggestions as we played, so the deck grew organically. I suggest you do the same, and once you have a good number of new card ideas, you can use this generator to make them.

In case you haven’t played before, here are the rules to the game. Basically, one player flips over a black card, on which is printed a sentence with at least one blank. All the other players choose the funniest card in their hands, and the winner gets a point. For example,

“In his next book, GRRM will spend 500 pages devoted to describing ______”

• the truth about Jon and Sam
• lemoncakes
• her weight in sapphires
• etc.

So there it is, in a nutshell. If you manage to fill in another whole page of these ideas, send me the pdf so I can combine it with those already here. Let’s build the greatest set of cards the North has ever seen!

*warning: some cards are vulgar- not for the timid and faint of heart!*

Thoughts:

This was my first year foraging for ramps, and I have to admit that I’m hooked. The sheer number of tasty amazing things that can be done with them boggles the mind. My favorites so far, apart from this, are ramp grilled cheese and a ramp pesto with pasta and fiddleheads.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Ramps are little wild leeks that grow in damp shady places in the spring, and have a smell and flavor somewhere between leeks and garlic. While they can be found on your own, folks often are somewhat loathe to share their foraging spots. Fortunately for me, a couple of neighbors were good enough to point me in the right direction. We trudged out into the woods with tall boots, buckets, and shovels. I gathered up a bunch of the little things, and headed for home.

This butter is wonderful. It helps preserve that wonderful pungent essence of springtime throughout the year, provided you freeze it well. The better the butter you start with, the more amazing this becomes. Enjoy it on anything savory for which you would normally employ butter. Personally, I think it’s incredible on warm biscuits, fresh from the oven.

Those skinny little ramps in the photo were all I had left for staging. Too small for eating, I’ve planted them in shady parts of the yard. With any luck, I’ll have my own ramp patch in a few years…

Ramp Compound Butter Recipe

Ingredients:

• 1 handful ramps
• 2 sticks butter, softened
• pinch of sea salt, if using unsalted butter

Clean your ramps, if wild foraged, by washing the dirt from them and peeling away any slimy outer skins, leaving the white shoots. Cut off the very bottom of the ramp, where the little roots stick out. Place your ramps in a small bowl and pour boiling water over them- this helps keep that nice green color. Let sit for about 20 seconds, then remove and pat dry.

Slice the ramps: I usually cut the green parts in slightly larger strips to give the butter some visual interest, but mince the white parts. You can eyeball the proportions. Add the prepared ramps in with the butter and salt, and mix until combined.

Divide the butter into several parts, roll in parchment paper, and place in a freezer bag. Slice off a small part at a time, and enjoy!

Easter can be a time of overeating and retelling of family stories for the umpteenth time.

Shake up your gathering this year by joining the Game of Peeps Challenge. The idea is simple: stage memorable scenes from Game of Thrones, using Peeps. Send in your submissions (innatthecrossroads@gmail.com), and I’ll post them to the gallery here and on Facebook.

Viserys and his golden crown, by @fifthdream

Peep in the North!

post-Red Wedding peeps, by Erica

“Peep will never betray us…”, by @Winterlarks

Red Wedding Peep, by Chris and Audrey

Grand Maester Peepcel, by Chris and Audrey

Sam the Slayer Peep, by SK Snyder

“The Things I do for Peeps”, by SK Snyder

Every Peeping Chicken in the Room, by SK Snyder

Golden Crown of the Peepar King

Burning Peep Florent

Peep-dor, by SK Snyder

Mother of Peeps, by Jodi

“All peeps must die”, by Jodi

Red Peep Wedding, by Blythe

In the Game of Peeps, you win or you die, by Jodi

“We are the peeps on the Wall…”, by Jodi