Like little stars.
At school drop-off the other day, I ran into my friend Carla. We talked about what our kids were going to be for Halloween, and then she asked, “Do you know if there are any programs to give away all that extra Halloween candy?”
My usual plan is to remove the excess loot from my kids’ pumpkins when they are sleeping. The best thing to do then, healthwise, would probably be to throw it away. But even though candy has no nutritional value, I still can’t bring myself to discard it. So I recycle it: I bring it to work, where it somehow magically disappears within minutes.
Recycling is one of the new “three Rs,” which have traditionally referred to “Reading, wRiting and aRithmetic.” These days, it carries an additional meaning– “Reduce, Reuse, Recycle.” Kids in Northern California and in other eco-conscious cities and towns are becoming environmentally literate even before they learn to read.
I didn’t get the head start that my kids have, but I am getting my eco-education just by living in San Francisco. I just wish it could be more fun.
Now that Halloween is approaching, I’d like to apply the waste-sorting lessons I have learned to creatively reusing Halloween candy. I’m talking about compost.
Compost may not sound like an appetizing thing to eat, unless you’ve been to David Chang’s Momofuku Milk Bar in New York. The Milk Bar’s pastry chef, Christina Tosi, created a cookie with a cult following known as the compost cookie (™).
I had one recently and it was fabulous — a little bit of salt to temper and enhance the sweet, and added crunch from its compost pail of ingredients: coffee grounds, potato chips and pretzels to complement chocolate and butterscotch chips. The result combines the tastes of chocolate chip cookies with chocolate-covered pretzels and espresso beans. In honor of this brilliant New York creation and living green, San Francisco-style, I’ve adapted the compost cookie idea into a blondie filled with a bounty of Halloween candy.
Because blondies have more fun.
Like little stars.
World's best pie apple. Essential for Tarte Tatin. Has five prominent ribs.
So pretty. So early. So ephemeral. Tastes like strawberry candy (slightly).
My personal fave. Ultra-crisp. Graham cracker flavor. Should be famous. Isn't.
High flavored with notes of blood orange and allspice. Very rare.
Jefferson's favorite. The best all-purpose American apple.
New Hampshire's native son has a grizzled appearance and a strangely addictive curry flavor. Very, very rare.
Makes the best hard cider in America. Soon to be famous.
Freak seedling found in an Oregon field in the '60s has pink flesh and a fragrant strawberry snap. Makes a killer rose cider.
Ben Franklin's favorite. Queen Victoria's favorite. Only apple native to NYC.
Really does taste like pineapple.