Cornmeal Honey Bread

I think in some ways, you fall into one of two camps. Either you make bread and you love it, or you want to make bread but are afraid. (Okay, there's another camp of course of people who never even think about making bread, because technically there's no need, but this post isn't really for them.) So, if you already make bread and you love it, here's a loaf (two of them, actually) that is de-li-cious. Or delish if you're trendy (and bread-baking is, after all, trendy these days). You can skip straight ahead to the recipe and get cracking.

If you're afraid of bread, but you want to try it, this recipe is eas-y. As pie. Easier than pie actually. If you're hanging out at home for any amount of time, it comes together almost as an afterthought, a way to use up some of that extra buttermilk in the fridge and the last of the cornmeal from your latest batch of cornbread. Don't believe me? It comes from Beth Hensperger's Beth's Basic Bread Book: Simple Techniques and Simply Delicious Recipes for Foolproof Baking. It's like Beth's beginner bread book. AND you get two loaves out of it to really maximize your effort. You won't be disappointed.

Beth gives actual temperatures instead of just telling you "warm water" or "warm buttermilk" and if you're still a little nervous you can actually take the temp of your liquids. I didn't, I just warmed them in the microwave a bit and called it good. So don't stress just because there are some temperatures listed in the ingredients. I give instructions on how to make it in a stand mixer because I made mine in a stand mixer, and I like to relay what I actually did since it's the only method I can really speak to. But this bread can also be mixed up and kneaded by hand.

Cornmeal Honey Bread
Adopted from Beth Hensperger's Beth's Basic Bread Book

3/4 cups warm water (105F - 115F)
1 tablespoon (1 package) active dry yeast
Pinch of granulated sugar
1 1/2 cups warm buttermilk (105F - 115F) (it might separate a bit when being heated, but that ain't no thing so don't worry about it)
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted, plus 2 more tablespoons melted for brushing
1/3 cup honey
1 tablespoon salt
1 cup yellow cornmeal, fine or medium grind, plus a bit extra for sprinkling
4 1/2 - 5 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

The first step in this easy bread (and in any bread) is to proof the yeast. Which is just a fancy way of saying put it in some warm water, give it something to munch on (the sugar) and wake it up (yeast is a living thing, after all). To proof it, pour the 3/4 cups warm water in a small bowl and sprinkle the yeast and the sugar on top. Give it a gentle stir with a fork so the yeast dissolves and just let it sit there for about 10 minutes until it's a bit foamy.

To make the dough fit your standing mixer with the paddle attachment, and pour the buttermilk, the melted butter and the honey into the bowl of the mixer. Add the salt, cornmeal, and 1 cup of the all-purpose flour. Beat on medium-high speed until creamy, about 1 minute. Stir in the now-bloomed yeast. Add the rest of the flour, 1/2 cup at a time, mixing between each addition. The dough will be soft and a bit sticky, but if it's too sticky to handle, add more flour.

As the dough begins to come together, you'll have to switch the paddle out for the dough hook, or just turn the dough out onto a floured surface and kneed by hand. Kneed it for about 3 minutes with the dough hook until it becomes smooth, not overly sticky and elastic. It shouldn't be dry, so be judicious with any extra additions of flour.

Take the dough out of the bowl and set aside. Lightly grease the bowl and return the dough to the bowl, rolling it over so that it is coated. Cover with a kitchen towel and let rise at room temperature for about 1.5 hours, until it's doubled in volume. Go do something else.

Come back, and line a baking sheet with parchment paper, then sprinkle the extra cornmeal on the paper. Set aside. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and divide it in half, which will deflate the dough. Shape the dough into two round loaves. If you need help with this step, check out this video from The Kitchn, since showing is so much better than telling. Place the loaves seam-side down on the prepared baking sheet and cover with plastic wrap. Let the loaves rise again at room temperature for about 45 minutes, until doubled in bulk.

Preheat the oven to 375F. When the dough is risen, use a sharp knife to cut an 'x' into the top of each loaf, which should not be deeper than 1/4 inch. Brush the loaves with the rest of the melted butter and bake on the middle rack of the oven for 40-45 minutes, until the loaves sound hollow when tapped with your finger. Remove from the oven and transfer the loaves to cooling racks. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Broccoli Rabe and Chorizo

Do you know about Canal House Cooking yet? I feel like you must, but if not, it's a venture between Christopher Hirsheimer and Melissa Hamilton. Both women come out of Saveur Magazine (my all-time favorite food mag, and the only one I actually subscribe to), where Hirsheimer was a founding editor and Hamilton was director of the test kitchens. They've done what I imagine tons of us would love to do one day. They quit their jobs and started Canal House, a real actual house where they do all of their cooking and photography. The product of all of that work is a three times yearly publication sent out to subscribers called Canal House Cooking. And these things are little gems. (Oh, and there will be random pictures of NYC in this post)

They're seasonal, first of all. Cloth-bound, and full-color. With photos galore and the kinds of recipes you imagine you might learn standing beside your mother or favorite aunt. I'll admit that I haven't cooked from them as much as I should be, having been a subscriber since the very first volume (we're on volume six now). But I'm changing that lately.

First. I made Broccoli Rabe & Chorizo because it was suspiciously simple in both ingredients and preparation. And I found everything easily, which is not always the case around here. Only one grocery store trip needed. I'm not sure how common broccoli rabe is elsewhere, but it's not hard to find in NYC. The fresh chorizo does much of the work for you, rendering its flavor into the greens without much effort.

A normal person might use this as a side dish, but I made it for lunch the first day and then continued to eat it as a great leftovers sandwich. Hirsheimer and Hamilton mention that normally broccoli rabe would be blanched to release some of its bitterness, but they skip this step and keep the flavor intact. The chorizo stands up to the greens, so I also skipped the blanching, but if you're not sure about broccoli rabe and how close the two of you might want to get, you can always give it a quick plunge in boiling water to mellow it.

Broccoli Rabe & Chorizo
Adopted from Christopher Hirsheimer and Melissa Hamilton's Canal House Cooking Vol 6

2 fresh chorizo sausages, cashing removed and chopped
Olive oil for the pan, plus more for drizzling at the end
2 garlic cloves, passed through a press
1 big pinch peperoncini
1 pound broccoli rabe, washed, tough stems trimmed, and chopped (don't dry completely, you want a little water still clinging to the leaves)
Salt and pepper to taste

Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium heat and cook the garlic, peperocini and chorizo for about 2 minutes, stirring while you go.

Add the broccoli rabe to the pan and stir so that everything mixes together. Cook until the broccoli rabe becomes tender, but not overly cooked, about 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper and a drizzle of olive oil at the end if you want.

Cranberry Lemon Scones

Two weeks ago, right at the very end of cherry blossom season, R and I went to DC to visit friends (and to get some work done at the National Gallery. I really enjoyed both of these shows, by the way). And I was reminded once again that I always love DC when I visit. After NYC, it's probably my favorite East Coast town. I took a ton of pictures, because one of my friends is also a shutterbug and a total enabler. He and I would hang back, stopping at random intervals to shoot, while his wife and R tried to heard us toward our next meal (people after my own heart, those two).

DC is, of course, famous for its Cherry Blossoms, with a festival that even an impending government shutdown couldn't derail.

Since we were catching the city right at the end, in places there were as many blossoms on the ground as on the trees, but they're beautiful in any case.

About the food. Our friends, call them A and M, they love food. (Wanna know more about these two? Visit their blog! There's food, there's home improvement, there's pictures, there's everything.) I believe we've done most of our bonding over food, and I know that we've done most of our sightseeing, in both NYC and DC, centered around food. Which is good for me, because I don't really have many friends here who are quite so interested. We did a lot of eating out, in partial protest of a NY Times article that skewered the DC food scene some months ago (I can't find a link, but will keep looking and asking and I'll post it if I do). Not having read the article myself, I can't really speak to it, but I will say that in the hands of A and M, we were shown a glorious string of restaurants, each of which was great.

But this blog isn't about eating out. And we did make a meal in their kitchen, which is an actual, individual room. And one morning, while I slept off my weekend of putzing around, M got up early and made scones. And R ate three of them. Maybe four. I'm much daintier and probably only had two. So I snuck a plate of them off to their backyard (yes, you read that right. A city in which you can have a kitchen that's an entire room AND a backyard. Sometimes I forget what I'm doing in NYC) and furtively snapped some photos. Then I asked for the recipe. These are a kind of biscuity scone, which is the type that M prefers. I thought they were wonderful. You can use dried cranberries, as she calls for in the recipe, or substitute dried cherries, which she also does when they go on sale. Originally a Better Homes and Gardens recipe, M has made enough changes over the years that we'll call them hers.

M's Cranberry Lemon Scones
Modified and adapted from a Better Homes and Gardens recipe

Ingredients:

· 1/2 cup dried cranberries (can sub other dried fruit such as cherries or raisins)
· 2 cups all-purpose flour
· 3 tablespoons brown sugar
· 2 teaspoons baking powder
· 1/2 teaspoon salt
· 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
· 1/4 cup butter
· Zest of one lemon
· 1 egg yolk, beaten
· 8 oz plain Greek yogurt (you can sub sour cream or regular yogurt as well)

Directions:

1. In a small mixing bowl pour enough boiling water over dried cranberries to cover. Let stand for at least 5 minutes; drain well. In large mixing bowl combine flour, brown sugar, baking powder, salt, and baking soda. Using a pastry blender, cut in butter until mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Add drained cranberries and lemon zest; toss to coat. Make a well in the center; set aside.

2. In a small mixing bowl combine egg yolk and yogurt. Add egg mixture all at once to dry mixture. Using a fork, stir until combined (mixture may seem dry).

3. Turn dough out onto a lightly floured surface. Quickly knead dough by folding and gently pressing for 10 to 12 strokes or until dough is nearly smooth. Pat or lightly roll dough into a 7-inch circle. Cut into 8 wedges.

4. Arrange wedges 1 inch apart on an ungreased baking sheet. Bake in a 400 degree F oven for 15 to 17 minutes or until light brown. Cool on a wire rack for 10 minutes

Norwegian Apple Pie

The first time I made this, R and I were having a Norwegian Apple Cake competition in our kitchen. There were two teams, Team A and Team R and we were both trying to approximate his mother's Norwegian Apple Cake. I'd never actually had it, so he was at an advantage. And since by default he was the only judge, he also won. Funny how that works.

So this was the losing cake because, well, it's not really a cake, and it's nothing like his mother's. But when, faced with multiple apple cakes in one tiny apartment, I started trying to unload slices on our neighbors, one couple called this Norwegian Crack. In that it's addicting, not that it will ruin your life. The thing is, our neighbors spent more time begging for extra slices than I probably did making the thing in the first place. And as far as indulgences go, this one is pretty tame. The crust is just a pressed-in mixture of chopped almonds, oatmeal, sugar, cinnamon, flour and an egg. Beatrice Ojakangas, whose recipe this is (I'm becoming obsessed with Ms. Ojakangas, let me tell you), wants you to toss chunks of apple with the almond mixture and produce a single layer. But I slice the apples up and put them on top. They do dry out a bit, but they also leak their juices into the crust.

Norwegian Apple Pie or Eplepai
Adapted from Beatrice Ojakangas's The Great Scandinavian Baking Book

1 large egg
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup chopped almonds (don't bother peeling)
2 medium-sized tart apples, pared, cored and sliced (use 3 apples if you want to chop them up and put them into the batter. You can peel if you want, but I don't because I'm lazy)

Oven preheated to 350F. Grease a 9-inch pie pan. In a large bowl, mix together all of the ingredients except the apple (or include the apple, if that's the route you're taking). If you layering the apple sliced on top, press the mixture into the bottom of the prepared pan, then layer the apple slices over it. Bake for about 30 minutes until browned, and the apples are cooked through. Serve with sweetened whipped cream on the side if you want.

Black Bean and Rice Salad with (another) Citrus Vinaigrette

How about one more grain salad, real quick. Because lunch. On the one hand, who doesn't look forward to lunch? On the other, who doesn't dread trying to figure out what to bring/make/do. I get bored with lunch before any other meal. Normally when I make a salad like this it's because I want it for lunch for a couple of days in a row. But honestly I'm not a fan of cold rice. Well, that's not quite true, cold is fine, but day-old generally is not. In other words, this salad is really, quite good the days it's made, and should be eaten then. If you want a grain salad that will last a little longer, try this one.

Also, I was in DC last weekend, and the amazing friends I stayed with have this beautiful dogwood tree in their front yard (they have a front yard!). DC is a lovely city, I feel that way every time I visit.

Black Bean and Rice Salad with Citrus Vinaigrette
Adapted from Catherine Walthers's Raising the Salad Bar

3/4 cup dried black beans, soaked overnight (use a 15 ounce can if you'd prefer)
1 cup brown rice, cooked according to package instructions and cooled (you can do this while you're cooking the beans)
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 red bell pepper, core and seeds removed, diced
1/2 small red onion, chopped
handful of cilantro leaves, chopped

For the Vinaigrette
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon chili powder
Pinch of cayenne
6 tablespoons fresh lime juice (2-3 limes)
6 tablespoons olive oil
salt to taste

For the dried beans, put them in a large pot and cover with water by 2-3 inches. Bring the water to a boil, reduce the heat so that it simmers and partially cover. Cook the beans for about 60-75 minutes, until cooked through but not mushy. This is a good time to get the rice going. When the beans are done, drain them and set aside.

Once the rice and beans are cool, combine them in a serving bowl, and add the red pepper and onion.

For the dressing, whisk together all of the dressing ingredients, then toss it with the rice and bean mixture. Add the cilantro and toss once more. Serve and enjoy

Wheat Berry Citrus Salad

So there's been a little laps in posts lately because, I'm perhaps a bit overly sad to say, my trusty computer has processed its last photo, surfed it's last site, posted its last post. My poor little mac, with the missing "1" key from when the dog jumped up onto my lap and ripped it off with her paw. With the dents and the scuffs and the always-dusty screen. The scratches that the photographer from this interview asked me to try to clean off before he realized that they weren't going anywhere.

We studied for orals together. I started my blog on that computer. It always knew what I was thinking, I barely had to type in a web address before it knew just where to take me. It had even stopped spell-checking some of those obscure 17th century French words I'm typing into my dissertation notes all the time. I mean, sure it was slow. I may have had to turn it on and just walk away for a few minutes while it kind of stretched and yawned itself to life. And downloading pictures may have taken the better part of a commercial break. And everything had to be backed up constantly, or moved 'off site' because of a lack of memory. But these defects creep up slow, you know? And now it's dead.

And I tell you what. I was damn lucky to be able to get back on Flickr at all, since that old computer remembered user names and passwords I can't certainly can't. It only took about 2 hours of freaking out and desperately typing and retyping combinations of possible user names and passwords, followed by an impassioned email to Yahoo begging for a hint.

So anyway, I'm trying to eat healthier, what with bathing suit season coming up and all. Actually, because of a bachelorette party next weekend in North Carolina, I'm staring down the barrel of bathing suit season much, much too early. Whoa boy, I am not ready for that. So wheat berries. Because they're filling and chewy and really quite satisfying. The recipe called for a bunch of watercress, which you can use if you have it. All I could find was arugula, so that's what I did, and I'd do it again, just the same. I also marinated the red onion (which I used in place of shallot because I needed to use it up) in the citrus juices in order to mellow the flavor. It's a great trick that I learned from Nigela, and now I hardly ever use raw onion in a salad that hasn't had a good soak in some citrus first. I really liked this one. Finished the whole thing myself over the course of a couple of days.

Wheat Berry Citrus Salad
Adapted from Catherine Walthers's Raising the Salad Bar

For the Salad:

1 cup what berries, rinsed
1 bunch arugula, washed and dried
1 large carrot, peeled and julienned
1/2 cup dried cranberries
Grated zest of 1 orange (use a blood orange if you can get it)
Grated zest of 1 lime

Put the wheat berries into a large pot and fill with water so that the water covers the berries by several inches. Bring the water to a boil. Partially cover the pot, then reduce the heat to low and simmer for about 75-90 minutes, until the wheat berries art tender. They will remain chewy, however. Keep an eye on the water level, and refill if it gets too low. I added more water a couple of time. Drain the berries, and set aside to cool.

Add the rest of the salad ingredients to the wheat berries.

For the dressing:

Juice of 1 orange
Juice of 1 lime (like how that works out?)
1/2 small red onion, minced (you can lose less depending on how much you like onion)
2 teaspoons maple syrup
3 tablespoons olive oil
salt and pepper to taste

This is a little trick I learned from Nigela: Marinate the onion in the citrus juices for about 20 minutes while the wheat berries are cooking. This will help mellow its flavor, since the onion is raw. Then whisk together all of the ingredients for the dressing and toss with the wheat berry mixture just before serving. If you want to save some of the salad for later, toss individual portions with the dressing and store the salad separately.

Chocolate Banana Nut Cake

I've come to something of a sad realization. It seems that I just don't particularly like the banana/chocolate combination. This is the third time I've tried it, so I've given it a go, but I'd just rather have each on its own. Banana bread? Yes please! Chocolate cake? Don't mind if I do. But I really just don't think they need to be combined, at least not on my plate. But maybe you don't agree. And anyway, I don't think it's the recipe's fault. As I said, it's a matter of taste.

So the recipe. If you love to bake, and you love to blog-surf, you've probably heard of The Greyston Bakery Cookbook. It comes from a bakery in Yonkers, New York, which has made it its mission to employ people from the local community, and to pay them fair and living wadges. To support, in other words, the community that supports them. Their profits help fund the Greyston Foundation, which also provides a variety of services to the community. You may have also heard of the cookbook's author Sara Kate Gillingham-Ryan. She's the founding editor of the ultimate food blog, Apartment Therapy's TheKitchen.

So there are plenty of reasons to get behind the book. And there are quite a few things I know I would love. Things like Raspberry Ginger Cheesecake, After-Dinner Mint Torte, and a Toasted Caramel Almond Tart. See, now these are flavor combinations I can get behind.

Chocolate Banana Nut Cake
Adapted from Sara Kate Gillingham-Ryan's The Greystone Bakery Cookbook

3/4 cups unsalted butter
6 ounces semisweet chocolate, finely chopped
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup ground walnuts
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
2/3 cup buttermilk
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
2 cups (5-6) very ripe bananas
3 eggs, lightly beaten
3/4 cup chopped walnuts

With a rack in the middle of the oven, preheat it to 350F. Grease a 10" round cake pan and set aside. I used a springform pan because that's the only one I have that's 10" and it made removal very easy.

Melt the butter in a saucepan over low heat. Then add the chocolate and stir until both are completely melted. Remove from the heat and set aside to cool for about 10 minutes.

In the meantime, whisk the flour, sugar, ground walnuts, baking powder, baking soda and salt together in a large bowl. Add the buttermilk, vanilla and mashed bananas and stir until just combined. Set aside.

Stir the eggs into the chocolate mixture which should have cooled slightly by this time. Continue to stir until the eggs and chocolate are well combined, then add the chocolate mixture to the flour mixture and stir until well combined (again!).

Pour the batter into the pan and bake for 25 minutes. Remove the pan from the oven and sprinkle the chopped nuts over the top. Return to the oven and continue baking for another 25 minutes or a bit longer, until it passes the toothpick test.

Allow the cake to cook on a cooling rack for about 15 minutes before removing it from the pan. Let it cool completely before serving with milk or whipped cream.

Farçon, French Glazed Mashed Potatoes and Onion

Okay, I am not going to complain today. Not about the winter weather (stupid winter weather, oops), not about the crap-o-la photo I got of this really lovely dish, and not about the fact that it's Monday. Instead, flowers.

I'm going to give you some pictures of artist Will Ryman's flower sculptures lining Park Avenue. Pictures taken on a dreary, rainy day. That wasn't complaining, just a statement of fact.

I kind of love these flowers. They're huge, some of them up to 25 feet tall.

I also loved these fancy-pants mashed potatoes, but my pictures were bad because they were taken hurriedly at night (again, just a statement of fact). According to James Villas, whose recipe this is, the difference between a farçon and a gratin, is that in a farçon the vegetables are pre-cooked and then pureed before being baked. Although Villas mentions farçons made from cabbage, carrots, turnips and pumpkin, the potato kind is the version you're most likely to encounter in some country inn in Savoie and the Jura.

It's quite a luxurious way with potatoes, which aside from all the butter and half-and-half, get passed through a food mill or potato ricer for that particular silky texture. Just like mashed potatoes, this is wonderful served alongside something that might seep its own sauce all over the plate, for the potatoes to soak up. Ragouts, stews, grilled sausage. Makes winter seem not so bad.

Farçon
Adopted from The French Country Kitchen by James Villas

4 large baking potatoes, peeled and cut into quarters
5 tablespoons butter
1 medium onion, finely chopped
2 garlic cloves, passed through a press
3 large eggs, beaten
2 tablespoons minced fresh parsley
1 teaspoon chopped fresh rosemary
Salt and pepper to taste
1/4 cup half-and-half

Place the potatoes in a large saucepan and cover with salted water. Bring the water to a boil, then reduce the heat to a simmer and cook, covered, for about 20 minutes. When the potatoes are very tender, drain them and set aside.

Preheat the oven to 400F

Heat 1 tablespoon of the butter in a skillet and sauté the onion and garlic over medium heat for about 3 minutes. Transfer the garlic and onion to a large mixing bowl. Run the potatoes through a ricer or a food mill into the same bowl. Add in the eggs, parsley, rosemary, salt and pepper, as well as the rest of the butter. Stir the mixture hard until it is well combined and the butter is completely melted. Add the half-and-half and give it a few more good stirs so that it's all combined.

Transfer the potato mixture to a large buttered gratin dish and bake for 20 minutes, until the top is browned and crusty. Serve.

Orange, Olive and Fennel Salad with Cranberry Vinaigrette

I have a very efficient running stride. That's a nice, and overly complimentary way, of saying I barely lift my feet off the ground. So if I stop paying attention for even a moment, I tend to go sprawling. I don't think I've ever, before now, taken responsibility for this tendency. I usually just blame it on one of the dogs and their habit of running after squirrels in Central Park, thus turning the leash into a trip wire. But truth be told, I usually just trip myself. It's one of the hazards of refusing to run on treadmills, I guess. But the bandage on my right palm is like a badge of honor. I run outside, people. Through the winter.

Oh winter. I hate you. I do. I hate you, and I hate my long running tights, and my thermal wool running shirt from Norway, and my running jacket. Hate, hate, hate. It needs to be, like, 30 degrees warmer Right. Now. And here's the not-at-all-creative segue. The end of the winter, when the end doesn't actually seem to be in sight, calls for the kind of salad that depends on produce that's actually available, but is not a stogy, soggy, boring winter salad. Boring winter.

Que the blood oranges, and the fennel, the onions and the olives. Then drizzle the above with a vinaigrette made from cranberries and cranberry juice for color and kick. If you're like me, you grab bags of fresh cranberries in November when they start appearing for the holidays and freeze them for later use. In which case, you can use real cranberries in the vinaigrette like I did. Although I will warn you that real cranberries are substantially more tart than the dried kind, so you might have to compensate with extra honey. Or you might just be the kind of person who loves things tart. If it's a case of the latter, than you can substitute the navel oranges called for in the original recipe with blood oranges, as I did. Making this salad absolutely pucker-worthy.

Orange, Olive and Fennel Salad with Cranberry Vinaigrette
Adopted from John Ash's From the Earth to the Table

3 large navel oranges, peeled and sliced into 1/4 inch thick rounds (I used blood oranges, which are tarter, but delicious and beautiful if you're up for it)
1 large fennel bulb, thinly sliced vertically. Keep the fronds aside for garnish and for the vinaigrette
1 small red onion, thinly sliced
2/3 cup mixed brine-cured black olives
Cranberry Vinaigrette (follows)

Put the oranges, fennel and onion on a serving platter and sprinkle with the olives. Drizzle with the vinaigrette and garnish with chopped fennel fronds.

For the Vinaigrette:

3 cups unsweetened cranberry juice
1/2 cup dry red wine
1/4 cup dried cranberries (or use fresh, as I did)
2 tablespoons finely minced shallots
2 tablespoons fresh orange juice
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar (more or less to taste)
2 teaspoons chopped feathery fennel fronds
Honey to taste
Salt and pepper to taste

Pour the cranberry juice into a saucepan, then add the wine and the cranberries and bring the mixture to a boil over high heat. Continue to boil until the liquid is reduced to about 1.5-2 cups, about 10 minutes. (You'll have leftover vinaigrette)

As the liquid reduces, sauté the shallot in a little olive oil until soft. Remove from the heat and transfer to a bowl. Set aside.

With your immersion blender, blend the cranberry juice mixture until smooth. Or carefully use a normal blender. Pour the liquid over the shallots and whisk in the rest of the ingredients. Drizzle over the salad before serving. The vinaigrette might be quite tart, so start with less. You can always add more if you need it.