The past few days felt oddly like spring, despite December peeking from just around the corner. The sky has been particularly delicate silk blue, as if a piece of sheer fabric was being held up against the weak winter sun.
I’ve started running again in the mornings—somewhere deep in my muscle memory, my body remembers how to do this: to start moving while I’m still yawning, my limbs heavy with sleep. To jog in the hushed just-post-dawn air, slowly enough at first that I don’t start to warm up in earnest until I make it over to the high school.
I have a handful of regular routes. Yesterday I picked the quietest one, which takes me through town, then past the train tracks down to the Sixth Street beach where I paused to “stretch my hamstrings” (fine, just between us, I was taking a breather) and watch the commotion as four guys in dusty sweatshirts maneuvered a crane over the water. I stepped closer to see the words Greenport Dock Marine Contracting on the side of their pickup truck . Neat piles of blond plywood were stacked to the side alongside a jumble of metal pipes and wires.
I turned around and ran home past to the house to the end of my street where a short pier juts out into the bay. I untied my shoes, watching the water foam and froth with whitecaps. Without letting myself think about it either way, I ran down the dock and jumped into the water.
And, pardon my French, but HOLY SHIT. It felt, for lack of a more intelligent descriptor, like liquid ice. (Yes, I know that’s what water is, but let me have this one. My mind is still cold.)
Gasping, I managed to swim out a few strokes then pulled myself up the ladder with numb fingers, fumbling for my shoes and clothes before jogging home, dripping a trail of water behind me.
Every morning I take a shower hot enough to sufficiently scald my skin an angry pink, and after a swim I stay in a few extra minutes.
Today I slip into cozy-but-put-together clothes (yes, I know this is called “athleisure” but let’s be honest, that’s a dumb word): slim black joggers and a soft fitted shirt in a heathered pale pink. My hair is twisted up in a bun and I’m assessing the pantry cabinets to decide what to make for dinner. The options are: canned black beans, canned coconut milk, fresh kale, two avocados, a single tomato, lots of shallots, and all the spices you can imagine. I can kind of see the direction I should go—if you have a brilliant thought, please let me know.
(It’s best to prep dinner early on, leaving the sunniest part of the day free for a long walk and the low hours of the afternoon available for a bike ride or harvesting kale out in the garden or making candied fennel seed cookies.)
The other day I mentioned a few particularly good weeknight dinners, and one that I’ve been bookmarked to keep on hand is the sesame beef and broccoli over brown rice, because it’s notably excellent for both dinner and lunch the next day. Easy and quick.
Here’s what you do: Saute broccoli (in my case, frozen florets) in olive oil. Add minced garlic, and cook for a few minutes, then add ground beef and cook until slightly browned, breaking up the beef as you go. Just before the beef is fully cooked through, add a mixture of brown sugar (2 tablespoons), soy sauce (1/4 cup), toasted sesame oil (2 teaspoons), rice wine vinegar (2 teaspoons), ground ginger (1 teaspoon or so), and cornstarch (2 tablespoons).
Cook, stirring constantly, until the sauce is thickened and the beef is cooked through. If it looks too dry and sticky, add a few splashes of water. Just when it’s about finished, stir in a few tablespoons of sesame seeds.
I usually have it over rice, but it would be good alone or with any kind of rice or noodles or even over greens as a salad of sorts.
What else have I been making? Crispy smashed potatoes, the edges browned and lacy with olive oil. Sweet potatoes cooked in miso butter over a handful of arugula. Roasted mushrooms with a liberal amount of sea salt.
Aloo gobi—onions softened in oil, then cooked with diced potatoes and chopped cauliflower. After the vegetables cook for 5 minutes or so, I add a cup of water and a cup of coconut milk along with about 1/2 cup of tomato puree, a few spoonfuls of cashew butter, minced garlic, minced ginger, turmeric, and coriander. That all simmers until the potatoes are tender. Meanwhile, I make white basmati rice—once cooked, I fluff it with a fork and add a handful of chopped roasted cashews and raisins. It all goes into a shallow bowl together with a shower of fresh cilantro.
All of that was good. Very good. But the best thing lately (let it be known here that I looooove soft breads of all kinds) has been these buttermilk pull-apart rolls with sage and honey butter.
Do it. Just do it.
Buttermilk Pull-Apart Rolls with Sage Honey Butter
For the rolls
1/2 cup (113g) unsalted butter
10 sage leaves, minced
3 tablespoons honey
1/2 cup (113g) warm water
1 1/2 cups (340g) buttermilk
1 tablespoon instant or active dry yeast
4 1/2 cups (540g) all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
For the topping
1/2 cup (113g) unsalted butter
3 tablespoons honey
10 sage leaves, minced
flaky sea salt, to taste
To make the rolls: Combine the butter, minced sage leaves, and honey in a small saucepan set over medium heat and cook until the butter melts. Remove from the heat.
Combine the water and buttermilk in a bowl, and pour the melted butter mixture over it (it’s fine if it looks curdled).
Mix the yeast, flour, and salt together in the bowl of a stand mixer. Add the wet ingredients and mix until the dough begins to come together. Switch to the dough hook attachment and knead until the dough is smooth and elastic.
Transfer the dough to a large greased bowl and cover with plastic wrap. Let rise for 1 1/2 hours, or until noticeably puffy.
Once risen, turn the dough out onto a lightly floured work surface. Divide the dough in half—working with one half at a time, pinch off golf ball-sized chunks and roll them into balls (you can do fewer larger chunks or more smaller chunks as I did, just make sure they’re even). I did about 28 balls per pan.
Place the balls in a greased 9” pan and repeat with the second half of the dough and a second 9” pan.
Cover lightly with plastic wrap and let rise for 20 minutes while you preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.
While the rolls rise, melt the butter with the honey. After the second rise, brush the tops of each pan with the honey butter and sprinkle with the sage and flaky salt.
Bake for 20 to 30 minutes, or until lightly golden brown on top.
Remove from the oven and let cool.