The Perfect Pantry

Cake flour (Recipe: spice cake)

For thirty years, as I learned about cooking, Ted looked over my shoulder.

And he did all of the baking, which consisted of making hundreds of dozens of Toll House chocolate chip cookies.

In the past few years, Ted has become much more interested in cooking, and when Dorie Greenspan's book arrived in our house, Ted began to bake something new every weekend. Now I'm the one looking over his shoulder.

I didn't grow up in a baking house; I grew up in a Weight Watchers house. No cookies, no pies, no cakes.

So, until recently, I'd never used cake flour.

Made from soft wheat flour only, cake flour has a much lower protein count (6-8%) than all-purpose flour (10-12%), which is made from a blend of hard and soft wheat. According to the King Arthur Flour Baker's Companion, cake flour is treated with both dry bleaches and chlorine gas, which change the nature of the wheat starch, allowing it to absorb more liquid. So, a batter made with cake flour will be able to support the large amounts of sugar and fat that are usually used in cake recipes. Bleaching also makes the flour more acidic, ensuring that the starch gelatinizes and "sets" more quickly.

What all of that means is that cakes and cupcakes made with cake flour are lighter than those made with all-purpose flour. Sometimes a heavy (dense) cake is what you want; sometimes you're after something fluffier.

Of course, you can make your own cake flour, but I've found so many different formulas for this that I really can't advise about absolute proportions. For every one cup of sifted cake flour, substitute approximately 3/4 cup sifted bleached all-purpose flour plus 2 tablespoons of cornstarch.

Too confusing for me. I can buy Softasilk brand in my local supermarket, or Queen Guinevere Cake Flour (only $2.99 for a three-pound bag) online from the ever-reliable King Arthur Flour.

SPICE CAKE
My friend Mary is the best cake-maker in The #1 Cooking Group, and she taught us this recipe last Fall. Make this in a 9-inch tube pan or two layer pans.

3 eggs, separated
3/4 cup butter, at room temperature
1-1/2 cups of sugar
2-1/3 cups cake flour
1 tsp nutmeg
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground cloves
1-1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp baking soda
3/4 cup buttermilk or plain yogurt
1 tsp pure vanilla extract
1 Tbsp cognac or brandy

Preheat oven to 350°F. Have all ingredients at room temperature.

Beat three egg whites in a stand mixer fitted with a whisk until stiff but not dry. Take the egg whites out of the mixing bowl and put them aside in a clean bowl.

Sift 2-1/2 cups cake flour into a bowl, and measure out 2-1/3 cups. Put the rest of the flour back into the box.

Sift nutmeg, cinnamon, cloves, baking powder, baking soda and salt onto the flour. Mix gently to combine all.

In the mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the butter. Gradually add the sugar to the butter and beat at medium-high speed until well creamed. Add three egg yolks, one at a time, and cream well after each is added. Mixture should be light and fluffy. Add buttermilk or plain yogurt. Stir in vanilla extract and cognac or brandy.

Add wet and dry ingredients alternately to the butter and sugar mixture, mixing well after each addition. You will add one-third of wet, then one-third of dry,nd repeat twice, ending with the dry ingredients.

After all wet and dry are added and mixed well, take the mixing bowl off the mixer and stir in a heaping tablespoon of the beaten egg whites by hand to soften up the batter a bit. Then, add the rest of the egg whites and gently fold them into the cake batter.

Butter and lightly flour cake pans, and tap out any excess flour. Or, coat pans with baking spray.

Bake a 9-inch tube pan for 1 hour or two layer pans for 25 minutes. Test with a toothpick or cake tester to see if cake is done. Either should come out clean when the cake is done. After the cake has cooled for 10 minutes or so, run a knife around the edge to loosen the cake from the sides of the pan. Let the cake cool completely before you take it out of the pans.

Easy buttercream
From The King Arthur Flour Baker’s Companion. Sufficient to frost an 8- or 9-inch layer cake, 9x13 inch cake, or 24 cupcakes.

5-1/3 Tbsp (2/3 stick) butter
1/3 cup vegetable shortening
1/8 tsp salt
4-5 cups confectioners’ sugar, sifted
2 tsp vanilla extract
1/4 to 1/3 cup milk or cream

In a large mixing bowl, beat together the butter, shortening, and salt until fluffy. Add about half the confectioners’ sugar and beat slowly until well blended. Add the vanilla and half the milk and beat until fluffy. Continue mixing in sugar and milk alternately until they’ve been completely incorporated, and beat until frosting is light and fluffy.

Old Bay seasoning (Recipe: Florida crab cakes)

As the crow flies, it is 430 miles from my house to Crisfield, Maryland, epicenter of the Chesapeake Bay crab world.

In 2007, Crisfield will host the 16th annual Soft Shell Spring Fair (May), the 31st annual Crab and Clam Bake (July), and the 60th annual National Hard Crab Derby (September). In fact, nearly every weekend from May through October, there's a crab festival (with or without jazz, with or without oysters, with or without crab racing) somewhere along the bay coast.

Nothing says "regional American cooking" more than Old Bay seasoning, born of the Bay area in the 1940s, popular from the Chesapeake to the Gulf Coast in crab and shrimp boils. Developed by a German immigrant, Gustav Brunn, it's now marketed by McCormick & Company, but the formula hasn't changed a bit.

Old Bay contains celery salt, mustard, red pepper, black pepper, bay leaves, cloves, allspice, ginger, mace, cardamom, cinnamon and paprika. Of course it's great in crab dip and crab cakes, but it also gives a flavor boost to meatloaf, gumbo, steak fries, rice, and bloody marys.

As is true for all spice blends, you can make your own, but you'll miss seeing the famous yellow, blue and red tin on your spice rack.

FLORIDA CRAB CAKES
Chef Eve Ornstedt adapted a recipe from Miami Spice, by Steven Raichlen, for a Ninecooks class last year, and I've adapted Eve's recipe. Of course, these crab cakes taste just as good outside Florida! We tried them with turkey bacon, but I didn't like the off-taste, so please use the real thing. Makes 4 large or 8 small crab cakes.

1 lb lump crab meat
2 strips of bacon, finely chopped
2 Tbsp minced shallots
1 rib celery, finely chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
1/4 cup minced parsley
3-4 Tbsp fine cracker or bread crumbs (low salt)
1-1/2 tsp Old Bay seasoning
Salt and black pepper, to taste
Pinch of cayenne
1 egg, beaten
1-2 Tbsp heavy cream
2 Tbsp melted butter plus 1 Tbsp vegetable oil

Check through crabmeat, removing any bits of shell (and any extra moisture, while being careful not to break it up too much). Fry bacon in a frying pan until lightly browned. Add shallots, celery and garlic and cook until soft but not brown, about 2 minutes more. Transfer to a mixing bowl and let cool.

Stir in crab, herbs, cracker crumbs, Old Bay, salt, pepper and cayenne. Fold in the egg and enough cream to obtain a moist but firm consistency. If it is too wet, add a few more crumbs. Wet your hands with water and form the crab mixture into 4 large or 8 small cakes, and place on a plate. Wrap the plate wax paper and refrigerate for 30+ minutes.

Just before serving, heat the butter and oil in a nonstick pan. Pan-fry the cakes until crusty and golden, about 3 minutes per side (longer for larger cakes). OR, cook under the broiler for 3 minutes per side. Drain on paper towels and serve with tartar sauce.

La Bookworm in le pantry

Those of you who know Mimi from her elegant food blog, French Kitchen in America, will understand when I tell you that her list of favorite food-related non-cookbooks could not possibly be limited to five; her blog often delights readers with literary references, interviews with authors, and her obvious love of books. I've split the list in two parts, and will share the second half later this spring. A professional writer and the daughter of a chef, Mimi cooks and photographs in her Wisconsin kitchen.

UPDATE. Mimi recommended:

• Chocolat
• From Here You Can't See Paris: Seasons of a French Village and Its Restaurant
• On Rue Tatin: Living and Cooking in a French Town
• Poet of the Appetites: The Lives and Loves of MFK  Fisher
• Vie De France: Sharing Food, Friendship, and a Kitchen in the Loire Valley
  

We'll have a new Bookworm every Saturday, for the next few months.

Want to be a Bookworm in the Pantry? Start here.

Tamarind (Recipe: pineapple shrimp curry)

What fruit can ward off night demons (stick the pod in your ear, as the British did in Victorian India), polish copper and silver, cure a sore throat, enhance a woman's sexuality, and make amazing curries and vindaloos, chutneys, soups, sorbet and drinks?

And had an Omar Sharif/Julie Christie romantic thriller named after it?

You're right — it's tamarind.

The first time I brought home a block of tamarind, I had no idea what to do with it. It was heavy and squishy, the consistency of moist modeling clay, and the only word in English on the label was ... tamarind. No clues there, but it turns out that tamarind is easy to use, and the sweet-sour taste and aroma add authenticity to Thai and Indian dishes.

Tamarind thrives in semi-arid, monsoonal, tropical climates of India, Africa and the West Indies, so it's no surprise that the fruit features in the cuisines of those regions. High in pectin, tamarind also is used in cosmetics and paints.

In Indian markets I buy tamarind concentrate (the round container in the photo above), which has a jam-like consistency, but most often I find the rectangular bricks. Occasionally I see the fruit pods, too, but I've never tried to cook with them (use the sticky pulp inside the pod). Stored at room temperature, tamarind pulp will keep forever.

To use the tamarind brick, break off a small piece (usually a tablespoon or so), and soak it in hot water to cover for 30 minutes. Break up the pulp with your hands or a wooden spoon to allow all of the flavor to leach out, then rub the tamarind and the liquid through a sieve. Discard any tough fibers and seeds that remain in the sieve. Store the strained pulp, often called tamarind water or tamarind juice*, for one month in the refrigerator, or freeze it. (Note: tamarind concentrate does not need to be soaked before use.)

If you are superstitious and own an elephant — a good luck totem, but a darned big pet — feed it some tamarind bark and fruit, which are said to be one source of elephants' wisdom.

I don't know about that, but I do feel like a wise cook when I've got tamarind in my pantry.

PINEAPPLE SHRIMP CURRY (Gaeng Kung)
It was an inevitable, and happy, consequence of moving my cookbook collection into the wonderful new bookcase Ted built for me, that I would find a few treasures I'd long forgotten. Sandeep Chatterjee's The Spice Trail: One Hundred Hot Dishes from India to Indonesia, is one of those treasures, and it's the source of this sweet-and-sour recipe from central Thailand. I've adapted a tiny bit. Serves 6.

3 Tbsp vegetable oil
3 Tbsp red curry paste (storebought, or homemade)
2 Tbsp tamarind water*
1 Tbsp brown sugar
2 Tbsp fish sauce
2 cups coconut milk
4-5 kaffir lime leaves, torn, or 1 Tbsp lime zest
Salt, to taste
1 lb large shrimp, peeled and deveined
1/4 small pineapple (approx. 4 oz), peeled and finely chopped
1 red chile pepper, split (optional)

Heat the oil in a large pan over medium heat. Add the curry paste and sauté 3-4 minutes. Add the tamarind water, brown sugar, fish sauce, coconut milk and lime leaves. Bring to the boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 5 minutes. Check the seasoning, and add salt as necessary. Add the shrimp and simmer for 3-5 minutes, until cooked. Turn out onto a platter, garnish with the pineapple pieces and red chile pepper (if using). Serve over boiled rice.

Beef broth (Recipe: zuni corn soup)

Dem bones, dem bones...

If it weren't for bones, slow-roasted in the oven until they turn a deep, dark brown, there would be no really great beef stock. Without great beef stock, there would be no great French onion soup.

And without French onion soup, or pho, or vegetable-beef soup or beef stew ... oooh, I don't even want to think about it.

Seems like I'm always making chicken stock — roasting a bird, tossing the carcass into a pot with some aromatic vegetables and water — but I can count on one hand the number of times in my cooking life that I've made beef stock.

I think it's dem bones.

When every family did its own butchering, bones were abundant. (Actually, I grew up in New York City, where we didn't butcher anything except an occasional culinary experiment.) I never seem to have leftover beef bones, so in order to make stock, I have to buy bones.

Instead, I keep beef broth in my pantry. I don't use it often, and when I do, I usually combine it with homemade chicken stock. Now you know the secret to my own French onion soup.

ZUNI CORN SOUP
When I travel, I look for local cookbooks and wooden spoons to bring home as mementos. This recipe is adapted from Southwest Indian Cookbook: Pueblo and Navajo Images, Quotes and Recipes, by Marcia Keegan, a photojournalist who collected these recipes during her 20 years of travel throughout the Southwest. For more great soup recipes, visit A Veggie Venture, which features amazing soups from around the world, through the end of this month. Serves 6.

1 medium onion, thinly sliced
1 Tbsp canola oil
2 cups lamb shoulder, diced
3 cups water
3 cups beef broth
2 cups dried posole corn or canned hominy
1 tsp salt
1 tsp ground red chile

Sauté onion in oil in a large heavy saucepan, until onion is slightly wilted. Add lamb, water and broth, and simmer until tender, 1-1/2 to 2 hours. Add corn, salt and chile, and cook until tender (if you're using canned hominy, cook for at least 20 minutes).

Valencia or bomba rice (Recipe: chicken paella with slow-roasted tomatoes)

Everyone plays favorites.

Ice skating over roller skating.

Rock 'n roll over jazz.

Peanut M&Ms over plain.

In the rice department, I have favorites, too. For short grain, I choose carnaroli over arborio when I want to make super-creamy risotto or rice pudding. For long grain, Carolina beats Uncle Ben's every time.

When it comes to medium-grain rices, the ones used for paella, I haven't cooked with Valencia or bomba rice often enough to pick a favorite, so naturally I keep both in The Perfect Pantry. (Of course, that is my excuse for having such a full pantry: inability to narrow down my spice, condiment, and dry goods choices!)

Though I use both rices for paella, there really are differences between the two varieties.

Bomba, the more rare and costly, is a Denominación de Origen round, medium-short grain rice cultivated in the L'Albufera region of Spain. It's difficult to grow and harvest, and has a long maturation cycle, which explain its high cost. Bomba differs from most rice varieties because it expands in length (most rices, when they absorb liquid, expand in width), and can absorb three times its volume in liquid. When cooked, the grains remain separate and do not stick together. Bomba is the rice prized by chefs in Spain; it's the best of the best.

So why bother with the Valencia? Which rice is best for which recipe? The better question is: which rice is best for which cook?

Bomba is a more flexible rice; because it can absorb much more liquid, it's hard to overcook bomba. If you're new to paella, this is the rice for you. Valencia, always more affordable, is your rice if you're a more experienced cook; it gets softer more quickly, which means that you need to keep an eye on it and measure your liquid carefully.

Both bomba and Valencia are available online here and here. Use them to make paella with any combination of ingredients — veggies, seafood or meatballs — or the creamiest rice pudding.

CHICKEN PAELLA WITH SLOW-ROASTED TOMATOES
Based on the method described in Penelope Casas' Paella, which develops a beautiful soccarat — a thin layer of rice at the bottom of the pan that becomes brown and crusty and is considered the best part of the paella. It is scraped off after the paella is served, and shared with everyone at the table. Serves 6-8.

2 cups chicken stock, homemade or low-sodium canned
Kosher or sea salt
1/4 tsp crumbled thread saffron
3 lb chicken thighs, bone-in, skin on
8 Tbsp olive oil
1 green bell pepper, finely chopped
1 medium onion, finely chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced
I box frozen artichoke hearts (already quartered)
8 slow-roasted tomato halves, roughly chopped
2 Tbsp minced flat-leaf parsley
1 tsp Spanish smoked paprika (mild or hot, to taste)
3 cups bomba or Valencia rice, or arborio
Salt and black pepper to taste

Heat the broth, salt, saffron, and 4 cups water in a covered pot over medium-low heat for 20 minutes, then keep the broth hot over the lowest heat.

Sprinkle chicken pieces all over with salt.

Preheat the oven to 400°F for gas, 450°F for electric.

Heat the oil over fairly high heat in a paella pan measuring 17-18 inches at its widest point (or in a shallow casserole of similar size), over 2 burners if necessary. Sauté the chicken over high heat until brown (it should not be fully cooked), about 5 minutes, turning once. (Be careful — this will splatter.) Add the green pepper, onion and garlic, and cook until slightly softened, keeping the heat high. Stir in the artichokes and tomatoes, and cook on high for about 3 minutes. Add the parsley, cook 1 minute, then mix in the paprika.

Stir in the rice and coat well with the pan mixture. Pour in the hot broth and bring to a boil. Taste for salt and pepper, and continue to boil about 5 minutes, stirring and rotating the pan occasionally, until the rice is no longer soupy but enough liquid remains to continue cooking the rice, about 5 minutes.

Transfer pan to the oven. Cook, uncovered, until the rice is almost al dente, 10-13 minutes in a gas oven, 15-20 minutes in electric.

Remove to a warm spot, cover with foil, and let sit 5-10 minutes, until the rice is cooked to taste. Return the paella to the stovetop over high heat and cook, without stirring, until a soccarat (crust) of rice forms at the bottom of the pan (be careful not to burn it). This will take 3-4 minutes. Bring the pan to the table and serve hot.

This week's Bookworm

Elaine, a Pantry reader from Spokane, Washington, is this week's Bookworm in the Pantry. She's a self-taught cook and devotee of the Food Network, food blogs, and new cookbooks. In a post last month about lemons, Elaine shared her family recipe for lemon curd.

UPDATE. Elaine recommended three books by Ruth Reichl:

• Tender at the Bone
• Garlic and Sapphires
• Comfort Me with Apples

We'll have a new Bookworm every Saturday, for the next few months.

Want to be a Bookworm in the Pantry? Start here.

Yeast (Recipe: oly koeks)

In a speeded-up world, where byways became highways and dial-up gave way to DSL, it's no surprise that yeast had to speed up, too.

In 1859, Louis Pasteur discovered the fermentation process by which yeast, a living microorganism, makes bread rise: (1) the yeast feeds on the starches in flour, producing carbon dioxide; (2) the carbon dioxide expands the flour's gluten proteins, which in turn (3) cause the dough, whose main ingredient is flour, to expand and rise.

Eight years later, brothers Charles and Max Fleischmann, who had immigrated to the US from Austria-Hungary, decided to market the breads they remembered from home, but knew they'd need a more reliable starter in order to mass produce their product. Together with James Gaff, who provided the financial backing, the brothers built a yeast plant in Cincinnati. In 1876, at the Philadelphia Centennial Exposition, they introduced fresh (compressed) yeast at their concession stand, called "The Vienna Bakery."

Fleischmann's developed active dry yeast during World War II, and it's the most popular form of yeast sold today. Dry yeast is fresh yeast that has been pressed and dried until the moisture content is approximately 8 percent, which makes the yeast dormant. Dry yeast has a much longer shelf life than fresh, and does not need to be refrigerated, making it ideal for the less-than-ideal circumstances of preparing meals for soldiers in the field.

In 1984, Fleischmann's introduced RapidRise, a highly active, finer grain of yeast that cuts the rising time by up to 50 percent, so that in most cases, dough will only need one rising. There is some loss of flavor and texture compared to results when yeast is allowed to develop on its natural timetable, but in most cases (especially if the dough is sweetened or flavored), the difference is acceptable.

Use dry active and RapidRise yeast interchangeably in most recipes. Although many recipes call for the yeast to be "proofed" (dissolved in warm water until it starts to get foamy and bubbly), this really isn't necessary as long as the yeast has not passed the expiration date marked on the packet.

If you've had a fear of yeast — will I kill it? will my bread collapse? — now's the time to give yeast a chance. You'll be enjoying your own home-baked cinnamon buns, pita bread, English muffins and coffee cake in no time.

OLY KOEKS
Last December, Ellen, who runs our local yoga center, gave me a lovely gift of five small cookbooks published in 1927 by Woman's World Magazine Co. of Chicago. This recipe is from Cakes and Desserts: Being a collection of 150 tested recipes for home cookery, arranged by months. Olykoeks (usually seen as one word, though in the cookbook it's two words), meaning "oily cakes", are a Dutch creation, the precursor of our modern doughnut. Here's the original recipe; the notations in brackets are mine.

2 cups milk
1 compressed yeast cake [or 1 package dry active yeast]
2/3 cup shortening
1-1/2 cups sugar
2 eggs
About 7 cups flour [all-purpose flour]
1 tsp salt
Raisins
Frying fat [grapeseed, canola, or rice bran oil]
Brown sugar
[Confectioner's sugar for rolling the baked oly koeks]

Scald the milk and cool it until lukewarm. Dissolve the yeast in a half cup of the milk, add a Tbsp of flour, and set aside in a warm place for 20 minutes. Meanwhile cream the shortening and sugar until light, add the eggs, well beaten, then the dissolved yeast the remaining milk (lukewarm) alternatively with the flour and salt sifted together. Knead to a light dough and set aside to rise for about four hours, or until doubled in bulk. Turn onto a well-floured board, roll out one-third inch thick, cut into rounds with a large cutter and put one or two raisins and a teaspoon of brown sugar into the center of each round. Wet the edges and gather the dough up round the filling, being careful to pinch the edges firmly together. Cover and set aside to rise until light —about three-quarters of an hour, then cook until golden brown in frying fat hot enough to brown a piece of bread in one minute, or if using a frying thermometer this should register 350 degrees. When cold, roll each Oly Koek in confectioner's sugar.

Chinese five-spice powder (Recipe: vegetable medley with five-spice dip)

Can you name:

The five W's? (who, what, where, when, why)

The five senses? (sight, hearing, touch, smell, taste)

The five elements? (wood, fire, earth, metal, and water)

The five flavors? (sour, bitter, sweet, pungent, salty)

The five spices in Chinese five-spice powder?

Er....uh.....um....

Stumped?

Star anise, clove, fennel, cinnamon (or cassia), and Szechuan pepper comprise the only common spice blend in Chinese cookery. India has its masalas; the Mideast and Africa give us berbere and baharat, harissa and ras el hanout. From France comes the incomparable quatre-epices. And America offers barbecue dry rubs of infinite variation, and crab boil.

In China, there's really only five-spice. Which is sometimes seven-spice, with the addition of cardamom, dried ginger, or licorice root.

Most popular in the cooking of southern China (and also Vietnam), five-spice powder may have originated as an attempt to create a "wonder drug" that brought all of the five elements into harmony, balancing yin and yang.

Each of the spices contributes an important flavor to the mix, though the dominant taste and aroma may be the star anise, with a licorice-like taste and a slightly bitter undertone. Cinnamon, fennel and cloves provide sweetness, but also a pungency. Szechuan peppercorns contribute a spicy, peppery taste that mellows to sour and salty.

Five-spice pairs well with meats such as lamb, pork and beef, which have strong flavor of their own, and with tofu, which has no flavor of its own. Generally, this spice blend will overpower vegetables, unless it's combined with other seasonings, but how about five-spice cookies?

A little goes a long way, so unless you are wokking up a storm, I'd suggest buying this spice blend in small quantities (or buy a larger, more economical amount and share with friends). Penzeys sells a one-ounce jar for $2.59.

You can make your own five-spice, of course. All you need is a small skillet and a spice grinder (a.k.a. coffee grinder dedicated to spices) or mortar and pestle. Adjust the proportions and taste, until your yin and yang approve.

VEGETABLE MEDLEY WITH FIVE-SPICE DIP
The dip, inspired by a recipe in Vegetarian Appetizers by Paulette Mitchell, would be equally good with grilled or roasted vegetables (how about roasted sweet potato spears?). Serves 4.

1/2 lb soft tofu, drained under a weight for 30 minutes
1 Tbsp fresh lime juice
2 Tbsp reduced-sodium soy sauce
2 tsp minced fresh mint
1/2 tsp Chinese five-spice powder
1/8 tsp red pepper flakes, or to taste
Ground white pepper, to taste

1/2 large red bell pepper, sliced thin
1/2 large green bell pepper, sliced thin
1/2 fennel bulb, trimmed, sliced thin
1 large carrot, cut in half across, then julienned
A few large button mushrooms, brushed clean and stems trimmed

Place first seven ingredients in a blender, and process until smooth. Adjust seasonings to taste, and set aside.

Arrange vegetables on a platter, and serve with the dip.

Another Bookworm in the Pantry

Ximena Maier blogs in Madrid, Spain, and she's our Bookworm this week (see her reading list of food-related non-cookbooks, over there on the right). Be sure to visit Lobstersquad, featuring Ximena's delicious recipes and delightful illustrations.

UPDATE: A reader suggested I list Ximena's recommendations, for those who are visiting this post after her official Bookworm week. Great idea!

Ximena recommended:

• Like Water for Chocolate
• Down and Out in Paris in London
• Short stories of Saki
• The Debt to Pleasure
• The Mortdecai Trilogy

We'll have a new Bookworm every week, for the next few months.

Want to be a Bookworm in the Pantry? Start here.