I’m smack dab in the middle of another missing-the-land of jalapeños and serranos and meals so spicy they’ll make your nose run and your forehead sweat (that’s a three napkin enchilada!) phase. Since I’m Tex-Mex pepper poor over here in the land of a thousand cheeses, I’ve been gravitating to the spiciest food I can make lately, which usually means something Thai — and this easy to throw together classic, Pad Kee Mao, is one of my favorites. It’s also one of the hottest.

Really, I’m just trying to see how I can get the French firemen to show up at my door.

Feu! Feu!

Now, my favorite Pad Kee Mao is simply rice noodles, bell pepper, Thai basil, tofu, and a whole bunch of garlic and chopped Thai chile, which you can add as much or as little as you can stand. You don’t have to use tofu — it’s easy to swap out with chicken, beef, or pork — but crispy fried tofu can be a wonderful thing.

Know that Pad Kee Mao does not take long to put together, but it does probably require a trip to your nearest Asian market for the rice noodles, tofu, and Thai basil. You may swap out with regular basil if you want, but Thai basil will give this the unique licorice flavor it’s known for.

It’s also an easy dish to make for one, or one plus leftovers the next day.

It is not a loaf of Poilâne, I know that, but it’s damn fine bread. It’s flavorful and has a crust that actually crunches when you bite into it. And it’s really easy.

Easy as in you don’t do anything at all except mix up the flour, yeast, and water with your big wooden spoon. Then let it hang out for a while–I give it a full 24 hours instead of the suggested 12 to 18, simply because I usually think of doing this in the morning instead of the evening.

I’d read about this no-knead bread before — it’s a recipe by Jim Lahey with New York’s Sullivan Street Bakery and it’s been all over the internet– but in Paris, who’s gonna bother with making their own bread when it’s coming out warm from boulangerie ovens every day?

The great thing about this bread, aside from the fact it needs no babysitting — letting you tend to other important tasks of the day, like checking out what’s new on Pinterest.

No-Knead Bread

Makes 1 loaf

Adapted from a recipe by Jim Lahey, Sullivan Street Bakery

•             3 cups/400 grams of bread flour
•             1 ¼ teaspoon/8 grams of salt
•             ¼ teaspoon/1 gram of yeast
•             1 ⅓ cups/300 grams of cool (55 to 65° water)
•                   wheat or oat bran, cornmeal or additional flour for dusting

1. Whisk or stir together the flour, salt and yeast. Add the water and stir with a wooden spoon until you have a wet and sticky dough — if it’s not sticky, add 1 to 3 more tablespoons of water. Put the dough in a bowl and loosely cover with a piece of plastic wrap and a dish towel on top of the overall bowl (the plastic wrap keeps the dough from getting crusty). Let the dough sit in a warmish spot for 12 to 18 hours (I usually leave mine out for 24), or until there are lots of bubbles on the surface and it has doubled in size. This super-slow rise (fermentation) is the key to the bread’s flavor.

2. Dust a work surface with flour. Scrape the dough out of the bowl and onto the surface — the dough will cling in long, sticky strands. Don’t add any more flour to the dough. Lightly dust your hands with flour and lift and pull the dough in pieces to the center in order to make a round shape. Dust a non-terrycloth dishtowel with wheat or at bran, cornmeal or additional flour. Now gently flip the dough over onto the dishtowel, seamed side down. Wrap the dough in the dishtowel and put in a warm place again to rise until it has doubled in size, 1 to 2 hours.

3. Preheat a Dutch oven in a 475°F oven for 30 minutes. Remove it from the oven, dust the bottom of the pot with wheat bran, oat bran or cornmeal and, put the dough inside, and cover. Cook for 30 minutes, remove the lid and continue baking for 15 to 30 more minutes. Let the bread cool on a rack for at least an hour before eating (ha! I usually last 30 minutes before I get out the butter). Store in a paper sack at room temperature.

How do you say “brocante” in Santa Fe? “The Flea” — a very Santa Fe-centric batch of vendors selling everything that’s Western, from saddles and tack to hats, cowhide rugs, and loads of beaded and fringed things. It’s all about the fringe here.

This was the first weekend of The Flea, and maybe because it was a holiday (Memorial Day weekend), the crowds were scarce. There weren’t many vendors, either, but I’m convinced that once the season gets underway, there will be more folks out there wheeling and dealing.

Since I’d bought a cowhide rug — a nearly all-white one — the day before, I didn’t look too carefully at these, but if you’re in the market for one, they’ve got plenty to choose from out here.

Dusty, never been worn before hats and lots of old stolen highway signs. I didn’t see anything that I had to buy, except for a pair of lamps for $30 that I immediately got home and decided that I needed to paint over and/or distress in some way. More on the lamps later. I plan to do a grand before and after for you.

Rugs all over the place! See how bright they are?  Color is such a part of life here. And I get it. But to me, seeing the saturated blue skies every day and the dramatic sunsets is where I get my color. Plus I’m already living in an adobe, which feels Southwestern enough. I’ve

Don’t get me wrong. I love the vibe of this place –I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t — but  little goes a long way in my book. I’ve got a ristra hanging outside my door and over one of my fireplaces, both souvenirs left from the previous owners. I’ll probably keep one of them. But if you ever catch me walking down the street in a broom skirt and a squash blossom necklace,

There is no simpler cake to make – and probably no easier cake to eat, either. See what’s left of the cake in the above photo? That was taken the morning after I made it the night before. It was less than 12 hours old.

Delicate, slightly spongy and made with yogurt and oil instead of butter and sour cream, it tastes like a much lighter version of our pound cake. And it’s a very French thing.

For those of you who think that French women are pushing those extra-long rolling pins across sheets of puff pastry in their teensy kitchens, I give you this, probably the most common of all French cakes, the one that everyone, even X’s mother who doesn’t cook (and certainly doesn’t bake) makes all the time: gâteau au yaourt, or the yogurt cake.

It is as easy and as quick as a box cake. It is very dump-and-stir. You can add stuff to it, like I did in this recipe – the zest of a mandarin orange – or leave it plain Jane. I’ve added jimmies to this cake to give it a tiger twist, and I’m planning on making an all-chocolate version soon. My friend Debbie tosses in chunks of apples or pears and nuts when she makes hers. Think of this recipe as a base. Add whatever you’re in the mood for.

It is a great cake to have in your repertoire for those last-minute things that you want to bring something to but think you don’t have time for, or for a weeknight dinner dessert. You do have time to make this. It’s just 5 minutes to put together and less than an hour in the oven.

Serve it with a dusting of powdered sugar and a spoonful of jam (X’s preferred way). Have it with your afternoon coffee. Or morning coffee. Or both. In fact, I think there may be a tiny bit left in the kitchen…that I’m going to go eat right now before X wakes up.

I’ll make him another one.

Yogurt Cake (Gâteau au Yaourt)

Makes one 10-inch cake (8 to 10 servings)

• 2 cups (4 125 gram yogurt containers) of flour
• 1 teaspoon of baking powder
• 1 teaspoon of sea salt
• zest of 1 mandarin orange
• 1 cup/250 grams (2 125 gram yogurt containers) of sugar
• 3 eggs
• 1 cup/250 grams (2 125 yogurt containers) of whole milk yogurt
• 1 teaspoon of vanilla
• ¼ cup of vegetable oil (I use sunflower oil in France), plus slightly more for oiling the sides of the pan
• powdered sugar, for serving
• raspberry jam, for serving

1. Preheat your oven to 180°C/350°F and line the bottom of a 10-inch springform pan with parchment paper and lightly oil the sides. Place the pan on a cookie sheet to catch any spillage.

2. In a small bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt. Set this aside.

3. Mix together the zest and the sugar, using your fingers to rub the zest into the sugar – by doing this, you release the oils and it’ll make the cake more fragrant.

4. In your mixer, beat your eggs until they’re light, then add the yogurt, zest and sugar, vanilla, and oil and mix well. Now add the flour mixture and mix just until combined — you don’t want to overmix. Pour your batter into the pan, and slide it into the oven to bake for 30 to 45 minutes, or until a tester comes out clean. Let cool on a rack. Slice and sprinkle with powdered sugar and serve with a side of raspberry jam.

Roasted Root Vegetables with Mascarpone Cream

Makes 4 to 6 servings

Adapted from “Vieux Legumes” by Keda Black and Sonia Lucano (Marabout)

• 2 pounds of root vegetables, peeled and sliced into 2-inch pieces (carrots, rutabagas, turnips, parsnips, potatoes)
• 4 tablespoons of olive oil
• sea salt and pepper
• ½ cup of mascarpone
• ½ cup of Greek yogurt
• juice of 1 lemon
• 1 teaspoon of fresh thyme, chopped
• 1 teaspoon of fresh rosemary

1. Preheat your oven to 400°F, and line a cookie sheet with foil or parchment paper.

2. In a large bowl, mix the veggies with the olive oil, a sprinkle of sea salt and pepper, and pop them into the oven. Let them roast 20 to 40 minutes, or until they’re cooked through and brown on the edges.

3. While the veggies are roasting, make the mascarpone cream: Whisk together the mascarpone, yogurt, lemon juice, thyme, rosemary, and salt and pepper to taste. Serve the root veggies warm, with mascarpone cream on the side.

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Radish Leaf-Basil Pesto

Makes about 1 cup

• a big handful of radish leaves, well rinsed
• a big handful of fresh basil leaves
• 4 tablespoons of olive oil
• 1 garlic clove, minced
• ½ cup of grated parmesan
• sea salt and pepper
• about ¼ teaspoon of lemon zest (or more to taste)

Put your radish leaves, basil, olive oil, and garlic in a food processor and pulse a few times. Add the Parmesan, pinch of sea salt and pepper, and lemon zest and taste for seasonings. This is best if you let it rest for an hour before eating.

Maybe I’ve got baguette fatigue.

Lately, I’ve been tearing out recipes for all sorts of variations of flatbreads — Indian naan, Lebanese flatbread, and Italian torta al testo — and when I found this not too long ago on the blogsite of my Austin pal, Lisa (Lisa is Cooking), I printed out the recipe right then and there and planned to make it. Luckily, this didn’t get too covered up by other recipes, and when I made minestrone a couple of weeks ago, I thought that this bread would be a nice little thing to have along with.

Like Lisa, I also didn’t have tomato powder, which is listed in the original recipe, so I used tomato paste instead. I’ve upped the amount of flour in the recipe to account for this additional wet ingredient. I didn’t have white balsamic vinegar, so I used champagne vinegar, and I doubled the amount of sundried tomatoes, and changed a few other things about how to put this together, too, based on a recipe for pizza dough/bread that I’ve been making for years. So I guess I changed a lot.

But the idea came from Lisa, and from the Cookistry website, too, and I’m happy that I found them both so I could have this with my soup.

It’s quick to put together, and just needs about an hour to rise, and then you simply press out the dough with your hands – it’s so cooperative, you don’t even need to use a rolling pin.

Crispy outside with a soft subtle tomato taste, this bread was lovely. X and I didn’t eat them all, so I put the leftovers in the freezer and I’m planning on making mini pizzas with them or using them for sandwiches. Next time I make this, I think that I’ll add fresh herbs — basil or thyme — to the dough, too.

Sundried Tomato Flatbreads

Adapted from a recipe by Cookistry and Lisa is Cooking

Makes 8 six-inch flatbreads

INGREDIENTS

1 package instant yeast
¾ cup warm water
1 tablespoon honey
2 tablespoons olive oil, plus a bit more for oiling the bowl for the dough to rest
1 tablespoon champagne or white balsamic vinegar
1 tablespoon tomato paste
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon sea salt
1 teaspoon sweet paprika (I use Hungarian)
8 sundried tomatoes, chopped
fresh basil or thyme (optional)

1. In the bowl of a mixer, fitted with the dough hook attachment, put the yeast and warm water and give it a stir to combine. Let rest for about 5 minutes or until foamy.

2. Add the honey, olive oil, champagne vinegar and tomato paste and mix to combine.

3. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, sea salt, and paprika. With the mixer running, add this to the wet ingredients, and mix until the dough becomes elastic and less sticky. (I added more flour here, because my dough was really sticky.) Once the dough is the right consistency, add the chopped sundried tomatoes and mix until well blended.

4. Add a little olive oil to a clean, medium bowl and with a paper towel or your clean hands, rub the oil all around the bottom and sides. Put the dough in the oiled bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and let rest in a warm, dry place for an hour, at least, or until you’re ready to make the flatbreads.

5. To make the flatbreads, punch down the dough and cut it in 8 even pieces. On a lightly floured board, press out each piece of dough into a circle, as flat as you can with the palm of your hands. (Cowgirl tip: I make one flatbread, put it on the skillet to cook, and then, while one is cooking, I press out another one, and so on.)

6. On an ungreased cast-iron pan or skillet, turn the heat onto medium-high. One by one, put each piece of dough onto the hot skillet, turning it when it begins to brown. Be sure to cook these all the way through. Stack them on the side, and eat immediately — or save and use as sandwich bread, pizza crusts, or whatever else you can dream up.