We’ve been moving around quite a bit lately, so it’s been hard to find the time to soak beans. Ah, bean soaking. That cooking activity we all say we don’t have time for but of course we do. Well I’ve also grown tired of using canned chickpeas when I’m in the need for some hummus. And the colder it gets, the more I like the idea of a spread and some toasted pita fresh from the oven. While the unsalted kind can work, the texture of the beans many times turns out mealy, and sometimes doesn’t accept any moisture at all. You wind up with an incredibly green, greasy, ball of chickpea dough spinning around and around in your food processor. Not cool. Amusingly enough, this is the first dish Matt and I attempted together, and basically how he was introduced to my cooking. Note to self: salting too early makes for not awesome mouth feel and impermeable starches and proteins.

We’ve got a lot of awesome garlic, parsley, and radish right now, harvested from my mother’s garden. So when I was in need of some hearty spread the other day, I decided to try out some cannellini beans instead. Surprisingly, even a can of Organic salted ones greatly improved the recipe. Cannellini beans have a much better texture – creamy, a little lighter, and more accepting of flavors with much less need for tahini and oil. The spread that materialized out of a lot of finger licking and pureeing reminds of an awesome crostini my friend used to make, the aroma of toasted cumin, and something my cilantro-adoring Indian father always likes to say: “Ewwww, parsley.” With a little sweetness from caramelized onion, a little garlicky kick, and some heat to warm you up, it’s a hearty, addictive snack.

1 small sweet or red onion
1 tablespoon cooking olive oil

3 pitas
Coarse sea salt
Freshly ground black pepper
Extra virgin olive oil

1/2 teaspoon cumin
1/2 teaspoon urad, toor, or chana dal (optional)
A few whole peppercorns

1 can cannellini beans, rinsed
2 cloves of garlic, peeled, and coarsely chopped
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon tahini
1/3 cup Italian parsley, woody stems removed
Juice of 1/2 lemon
A pinch or more of paprika
4 radishes, ends removed, and 1 radish sliced thinly for garnish
Freshly ground black pepper
1/2 teaspoon salt

Turn the oven on to 250 degrees.

In a small saute pan, heat the cooking olive oil over medium. Once hot, add the onions and saute without burning until caramelized, about 15 to 20 minutes. Stir periodically to prevent burning. Season with a little salt and freshly ground black pepper. Remove from heat.

Cut the pita into 8ths, drizzle with olive oil, sprinkle with salt, grind on some pepper, and place evenly on a cookie sheet. Toast in the oven for 10-15 minutes until crispy. Remove, place in tinfoil, and keep in a warm oven until ready to use.

While the onions and pita are cooking, dry toast the cumin, dal (if using), and peppercorns in a small saute pan on medium. Once they start to pop, add them to the food processor.

Assemble the rest of the ingredients and add them to the food processor, reserving one sprig of parsley and the sliced radish. Once the onions are done, add them as well and puree until smooth. Taste and adjust seasoning. If it’s a little dry, add in a tablespoon of oil. If not creamy enough, add in a tablespoon of tahini.

Place the spread in a bowl, garnish with the radish and the parsley, and serve the pita on the side. Enjoy!

Grain salads can be your best friend in summer. You usually have something fresh on hand or something to get rid of, it’s all about the produce, and it’s so f*cking hot you want something cooling and excellent that doesn’t require being chained to the stove. In summer you’d be hard-pressed to find a blog or site that doesn’t include a “new spin” on this old favorite. When I found a bag of hard red spring wheat berries in the cabinet I thought I’d give it a try. Since I am not a fan of being slave to recipes (or my stove in summer, apparently), I spent a little time researching what goes well with these grain salad things people love so much.

The classic grain salad is served cold, and usually includes Mediterranean/Middle Eastern flavors and summer vegetables. I fell in love with the nutty, hearty wheat berry, which definitely holds its own more than bulgar, quinoa, or farro. Of course, these grains are excellent too. Wheat berries are whole wheat kernels with the husks removed, while bulgar is a quick-cooking form of whole wheat that has been parboiled, dried, and ground into little bits. If you’re sick of durum wheat, then quinoa, farro, wild rice, buckwheat groats, or barley are also good to play with.

Below I give you a ratio that will work well for most of the hearty grains and allow you to mix and match depending on what you have on hand. When I think about pairing ingredients for this dish, I start with the ingredient I really want to use. Then, depending on its texture and flavor I try to balance it with something else. If I have some insane beets to roast, maybe I want some citrus to counter the starch, and some toasted walnuts or pecans to add some body, a little arugula for spice, some grapefruit for that sweet/sour acid, and a little fresh goat cheese to give something really creamy to the bite of the beets. If I really wanted to go with some really excellent, ripe tomatoes, maybe some avocado, cilantro, red onion for bite, lime juice, and cumin. Or how about some sauteed zucchini and squash, wilted chard, lemon juice, shallots, basil, and cayenne.

The salad we made was totally satisfying and when I kept the ingredients and the flavorings separate, it kept for days. Experiment and enjoy.

CHOOSE your INGREDIENTS (a couple of portions):
1/2 cup nuts or olives: e.g. toasted pecans, toasted walnuts, kalamata, black olives, or green olives
1 cup summer vegetable(s): e.g. diced cucumber, tomato, or sweet peppers; blanched peas; sauteed zucchini, summer squash, or eggplant, or roasted beets, diced avocado
1/2 cup sweet fruit: e.g. segmented oranges, segmented grapefruit, golden raisins, dried or fresh figs, dried currants, or dried cranberries
1 cup summer greens: e.g. arugula, watercress; wilted chard or spinach

CHOOSE your FLAVOR PAIRINGS (one of each):
2 tablespoons Mediterranean herb: e.g. parsley, mint, oregano, marjoram, basil, dill, or cilantro
1 teaspoon citrus juice: e.g. lime, lemon, orange, or grapefruit
2 tablespoons vinegar: e.g. cider vinegar or red wine vinegar
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

ADD a little UMPH, if you like:
3 oz fresh cheese: e.g. cubed feta, mozzarella, or crumbled goat cheese
1 allium: e.g. 1 diced shallot, 1 minced clove garlic, or 1/2 red onion diced
Spice: e.g. 1 teaspoon dry roasted cumin or 1/4 teaspoon cayenne
1 teaspoon something sweet: e.g. maple syrup or honey

COOK some WHEAT BERRIES (in advance if you like):
1 cup hard red spring wheat berries
3 1/2 cups cold water
1 teaspoon salt

Put the berries, water, and salt in a medium heavy-bottomed pan and turn on to boil. Cook 1 hour or until berries are bursting and chewy. Remove from heat. Cool until ready to use.

ASSEMBLE the STUFF

MAGIC will HAPPEN (kind of like this)
Ours blossomed into a wheat berry salad with watercress, arugula, cucumber, kalamata olives, red onion, mint, and crumbled feta.

The origin story of the white brined curd cheese from the Balkans has long been a point of contention. As of 2002 the Greeks have the official PDO (Protected Designation of Origin) on “feta,” which was again upheld in 2005 when Denmark, Germany, and France fought to use “feta” as a generic name for any salty, white cheese. As far as the Balkans are concerned, Bulgarians claim the cheese to be a descendant of their “sirene” from the Trakia region in the Balkan Peninsula.

While the Greeks may have ownership, getting someone to properly enforce labeling on imports is another issue. My Whole Foods still labels French, Greek, and Bulgarian as all “feta,” but thankfully indicates the country. So why care? There is a considerable difference between a blanched industrial version coming out of Denmark, a real Greek feta, and a real Bulgarian feta. I much prefer the Bulgarian sirene, especially when it’s made only from sheep’s milk (the fattiest curd at around 45%). So while country of origin is important for me, it’s sad that it’s become increasingly harder to find the Bulgarian kind. Either way, fresh, briny cheeses are good on salads. The crumbly curds lend a creamy and slightly acidic balance to crunchy vegetables.

Traditional Greek salads are made of the freshest, plumpest tomatoes, red onion, cucumber, chunks of feta, occasionally a bit of a thick-spined crisp lettuce, maybe some olives, capers, or an anchovy or two, and always with lemon and good olive oil. While I do swoon over this version, I find it’s mostly impractical to obtain the just-ripe veggies needed in a New York summer. Greek salad is always open to new ideas as far as I’m concerned (the Greeks would probably disagree).

So once or twice a summer, when I can find some delectably sweet and fresh tomatoes, a particularly spicy red onion, a crisp head of Romaine, and a super sweet, burpless cucumber, I will take my Bulgarian feta and place it atop a Caesar-like Greek salad with French levain croutons and a garlic anchovy dressing. It’s a feisty little bastard, and boy is it cooling and delicious in the summer heat. Cool off and enjoy!

Salad Ingredients
1 burpless cucumber, diced
1 handful assorted of the freshest and sweetest tomatoes, washed and cut into pieces you’d want to fit into your mouth
1 head of a mild and thick-stemmed green lettuce, so crisp it crackles, washed, outer leaves removed, and ripped into pieces
1/2 awesome red onion, sliced into sickles
1/3 cup whole kalamata olives, pitted and chopped
3 oz fresh sheep’s milk feta of your choice, cubed

Breadcrumbs
2 cloves garlic, minced
A couple slices worth of crumby artisan bread (I used a French country sourdough levain), crusts removed and cubed
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
Salt
Pepper

4 tablespoon fresh Mediterranean herb (chives, oregano, spearmint, marjoram, basil, or thyme)

Garlic Anchovy Dressing
1 large clove garlic, minced
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
2 anchovy fillets, minced
A ton of freshly ground black pepper
Salt
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
2 teaspoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
1/2 minced herb

Set the oven to 350. Mince the herb. Reserve half for the salad dressing. In a small bowl combine some fresh herb, the feta cubes, and a tablespoon of feta juice. Grind in some black pepper. Set aside

In a medium bowl mix the garlic, olive oil, and some black pepper. Roll the bread around. Set on a cookie sheet and put in the oven for 10 minutes, or until crunchy. Remove from oven and let cool.

Combine the salad vegetables. Whisk dressing. Add the remaining fresh herb, olives, and feta to the salad. Toss w/ dressing, add croutons, and serve immediately.

On our surprise visit up to see my dad on Father’s Day we made a trip out to my mother’s garden with scissors and a basket to fill up on greens. The garden is flourishing despite the rain and resulting slug infestation. Even in such a small space (about 4 x 2 parking spaces) there’s still enough bounty that I can take home a week’s worth of lettuce, scapes, chard, kale, and herbs and barely make a dent.

I’ve been thinking a lot about elevated beds lately, especially after writing an article about the High Line for the Huffington Post’s New York page launch (hopefully they will actually run the thing after giving me one day to write it). In my mom’s garden, the elevated beds prevent dirt from being compacted during weeding and walking, give her complete control over the soil conditions, and are easier on the gardener’s back. My mother makes her own organic compost, which has become just as beloved as her greens (she pursues the odd-and-end scraps of veggies with as much vigor as the freshly picked). On the High Line, while the plants may not be edible and the fertilizer not from solely organic matter, the selection process was subject to the same constraints of shallow soil (2′ at its deepest).

Seeing the High Line gave me hope for a future New York with edible rooftop gardens in abundance. Currently the owners in my building are working on plans for the rooftop. While these plans are learning more towards lawn chairs, green ground, and potted shrubs, I am pushing for a garden space or herbs in abundance.

In my search for produce, I have found nothing that is comparable to being in a garden. Cheaper, more accessible, more flavorful, more local, larger, smaller, sure. But nothing that compares to the garden that provides to those who tend to it, produces Mediterranean herbs like weeds with little effort, and demonstrates to its users the power of pulling a whole head of lettuce directly from the ground.

But in an urban setting, how do we go from concrete and cheap rubber to leaves and grass? With the number of New Yorkers becoming interested in gardening – from the rooftops all the way to Governer’s Island – it’s looking hopeful. And elevated beds will take us there.

I am meeting with the board of my building on Thursday, but I have no idea if I will be able to convince others of an edible rooftop. What would my world be like if scapes, garlic, peas, tomatoes, chard, lettuce, rosemary, thyme, oregano, sage, dill, mint, chives, squash, and beets were growing a couple floors above my head?! Certainly greener, that’s for sure.

Peas and garlic with the scapes poking out

Picking chard

Beeeeeeets!

Cress, cilantro, and some thinning arugula (OMG, so spicy!)

The terraced flower garden

Oh, landscaped nature, you get me every time

Lettuces, chard, and kale in their elevated beds

Mint growing like weeds

Sage, tarragon, and chives with some nasturtiums in the background

Oh, salads!

Anyone else using a garden, large or small, up high or in the ground? Would love to hear from you.

Sometimes cooking sounds like a sentence of being shackled to the kitchen counter in a prom dress and pink pumps, and makes me want to run away screaming and wielding a knife. A food blog gives you a unique sense of time and cooking. I have realized, for instance, that the domesticity of making food currently gives me hives. Before the blog I simply would have shirked the cooking and ordered takeout, four weeks in a row. While I will never be a housewife angel, I also relish the audience and the gift of nourishing others. I love cooking, and learning, and creating, but hate constraints, habit, and tedious tasks. I move fast and need to keep learning. I rarely put things in my mouth I don’t like, regardless of whether it’s food, ideas, or labels. But if I don’t love to cook all the time, how can I expect anyone else to?

When you’re me, you use making food as a means of personal expression. And if you take this too literally, your dishes become your “creations.” This can be delicious in good times, but a total starving nightmare when you’re just not feeling inspired. Because when your creativity is so deeply coupled with something vital to life, well, you’re just asking for it. You’re just begging for the omelette to fall like slop out of the pan, for the mayonnaise to break and spill all over itself, and for everything you make to just not be good enough.

Because it’s not about the dishes you create that are so important, but the process itself. It’s about the eating and the company. It’s about your style, the ingredients that inspire you, and the way you feel about food. The preparation or “cooking” is how that all comes together and changes you and those who eat your food.

Well in the midst of not wanting to go anywhere near the kitchen I got a visit from my mother and a heaping box of produce. And what changed? The ingredients. The second those fresh, furry heart-shaped leaves of oregano were in my hand, I knew I could cook again, and needed to. I knew that there was nothing more important than getting those ingredients into mine and Matt’s bodies in the most delightful but simple way possible. They had been grown with the utmost love, and we ate them with the utmost joy. Today, after my long hiatus, I implore you to head to your local greenmarket, vegetable stand, local park, farm, backyard, or wherever, and pick some ingredients to take home and love. Summer’s a comin!

Simple, simple, garden salad
4 sprigs herbs, washed and stems removed – oregano, mint, tarragon, basil, verbena
Spring alliums, washed and with large pieces ripped coarsely – a handful of chives chives, a few scapes, a spring onion
3 small bunches of greens, washed – green leaf, red leaf, arugula, radicchio, watercress, spinach, sorrel
A couple ounces of a fresh cow or goat cheese, shaved with a vegetable peeler
1 spring onion, sliced thinly (stalk can be used in place of herbs above)

1 clove garlic, peeled and minced
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
Sea salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Assemble the lettuce, herbs, alliums, and spring onion in a bowl. In another small bowl, whisk together the garlic, dijon mustard, oil, vinegar, salt, and pepper. Top the salad with cheese, pour over the dressing, and toss. Savor with a good hunk of bread and some olive oil.

Sandwiches are curious foods. While leavened bread has been eaten with food since 4000 BCE, the sandwich wasn’t conceived until the 18th century. Its predecessor was presumably a fresher open-faced version of the English trenchers, where slices of meat and butter were placed atop stale bread “plates.” The story goes that John Montagu, 4th Earl of Sandwich, England conceived of the food as a convenient way to eat without skipping a hand at cards (Hawaii was also originally named The Sandwich Islands after the Earl).

Since its introduction to America as a hefty dinner option in the early 20th century, the sandwich has been a staple of our diet. Spins of the concept have reached the farthest corners of our melting pot. A sandwich is not to be trifled with. Origin stories for Grilled Cheese, Sloppy Joe, PB&J, and BLT are highly contentious, and New York best of lists of the Cuban, Soft Taco, Roast Beef, and the Panini have been fought over since their inceptions.

Whether inspired abroad or on New York soil, we are constantly looking to chart the new when it comes to the sandwich. Love it or leave it, this trendiness has produced a lot of good and bad lunches. A cool wave of bánh mì shops has recently infiltrated the great triangle of trends, East Village, Lower East Side, and Williamsburg. Always last in line, The New York Times declared 2009 the “Year of the Bánh Mì” while New York gives a rundown of their favorite street shops, including friends of ours An Choi on Orchard Street. The bánh mì is a result of the French colonial empire in Vietnam, drawing from the French baguette with pâté and butter and adding local flavors of spicy pepper, fish sauce, pickled carrots and cilantro. Back in 1996, the Daily News reported the sandwich’s lack of sticking power. Pho Viet Huong owner Billy Chau was quoted as saying New Yorkers “think it’s a cold-cut sandwich and don’t want to order it. When they taste it, they know the difference.” The New York Times reported back in 2008 “To make it here, a sandwich has to work overtime, being portable, filling, interesting and tasty.” While not at first a hit, the recent trends of using fresher ingredients, recipes with more complex flavors, and surge of Asian eateries has brought the bánh mì to the fore, and an influx of new recipes and shops to New York.

Popularity aside, lets talk about this sandwich for a moment. While the bread takes its inspiration from the baguette, the Vietnamese version uses rice flour and produces a chewier, almost Italian loaf that lends better to crunchy veggies. Once you get passed its rugged exterior (i.e. crust), you are rewarded with some tender meats, a spicy sauce to catch in the corners of your mouth, a smear of pâté, and dare we say a winning combination of vegetables. Sweetly pickled carrots and daikon, fresh slices of cucumber, and whole sprigs of cilantro to be exact.

My last bánh mì was at Nicky’s a month ago. Heat waves tend to make you think of crunchy, refreshing foods. When it comes to trends, I generally like to make my own. So we kiddies made some sandwiches on Sunday. They were fabulous the first day, but by the second morning the bread had gone stale, the chicken was tough, and the vegetables had lost some of their crunch, making it clear this sandwich must be made fresh or not at all. Love ‘em already or waiting for the next crave, the combination of spicy, crunchy, sweet, and savory opens a lot of doors.

Chicken Bánh Mì
Recipe from Food & Wine with some changes
Serves 4

Chicken Marinade
1/2 cup Asian fish sauce
1/2 cup fresh lime juice
1/4 cup sugar
4 garlic cloves, minced
2 jalapeños, thinly sliced
1/2 tablespoon kosher salt
4 skinless, boneless chicken breasts

In a bowl, whisk the fish sauce with the lime juice, sugar, garlic, Thai chiles and salt. Add the chicken and cover in the fridge for 3 hours, not more than 8 or the chicken will become tough.

Pickled Vegetables
1/2 cup water
1/4 cup rice vinegar
1/4 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
Pinch of crushed red pepper
3 large carrots, julienned
1/4 pound daikon radish, julienned

In a small saucepan, bring the water, vinegar, sugar, salt and crushed red pepper to a boil. Transfer the brine to a large bowl and let cool to room temperature. Add the carrots and daikon and cover to keep them submerged. Refrigerate the vegetables for at least 30 minutes and up to 3 days.

Spicy Mayo
1 Organic egg yolk
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
Freshly ground black pepper
1/2 cup peanut or other mild oil
2 tablespoon freshly squeeze lemon juice
Sea salt
3 tablespoons garlic pepper sauce
A handful of cilantro sprigs, minced
1 garlic clove, minced
1/4 teaspoon cayenne

Combine the egg, mustard, and some pepper in a bowl. Whisk. Pour the oil in slowly, in a steady stream and whisk vigorously. Once the oil is incorporated, whisk for another 30 seconds. Add in the lemon juice and whisk to incorporate. Taste, salt, and adjust seasonings. Add the chili pepper sauce, cilantro, garlic, and cayenne to taste.

Bánh Mì
Four 8-inch Italian or other chewy white baguettes, split and grilled
1 cucumber, thinly sliced lengthwise
A handful of cilantro sprigs, washed and dried
2 jalapeños, thinly sliced

Heat a saute pan on medium heat. Remove the chicken and pat dry. Cook 4 minutes to a side until done. Let rest. Slice the chicken breasts. Drain the pickled vegetables. Spread the cut sides of the baguettes with the spicy mayo. Arrange the cucumber slices on the bottom halves. Top with the chicken and the pickled carrots and daikon. Garnish with the cilantro sprigs and jalapeño. Close the sandwiches and ENJOY.

Global warming apparently has our spring in a sweaty headlock. The first warm weekend of the year is the perfect time to kick back with a beer, forget for a moment that our planet is melting, and catch some glimpses of bare skin. This weekend’s ridiculous ensembles, pregnant women about to burst, and pasty calves and shoulders did not disappoint. HOT. But why do 9 million New Yorkers all have to have cravings for popsicles, watermelon, and ice cream at the same hour on the same day? Today I wanted a popsicle bad. Alas, I couldn’t find a single one without HFCS in the stores. And while I probably am becoming more of a New Yorker by the day, I still refuse to wait in line at one of the many ice cream shops. What is one to do? Make popsicles, of course. Since I only have one tray, I will be making pops all week to cover the blackberry, coconut, lime, and mango flavors I so desire. Today’s popsicles were filled with melon, mint, honey, and creamy Greek yogurt. We snuck a couple an hour ago, and while they’re not quite frozen, they hit my popsicle spot dead on. (Yes, I have a small cluster of taste buds that only detect sweet, cold foods.) Don’t you love having 20 of something?

Melon popsicles with mint, honey, and yogurt
1 medium melon, seeds removed and meat removed with a melon baller or cut into chunks
A handful of mint leaves, washed and stems removed
3 tablespoons honey
1 tablespoon lime juice
1 cup unsweetened Greek strained yogurt

Puree the melon, mint, honey, and lime juice in a food processor. Strain into a bowl through a fine sieve, pressing on the solids to extract the juice. If needed, puree a second time to extract all the juices. Discard the solids. Stir in the yogurt until smooth. Place in the ice cube tray. Place in the fridge for 2 hours. Remove and add in tooth picks or popsicle sticks. Place back in the freezer for at least four more hours. Enjoy on a hot day. Will keep for 2 days.

On our recent trip to the Brooklyn Flea, we sampled some of these tasty Lebni yogurts from Likitsakos Specialty Foods. Sweetened with honey and spiked with vanilla extract, these yogurts are rich and creamy, and flavored with things like real blackberries, almonds, and grapes.

Well, instead of eating mine on the spot, I decided to drown some Organic chicken breast from Fairway in it and make a sandwich. Sweet, tangy, a little spicy, and definitely meaty, the chicken is pumped up a bit with sweet onions, cracked olives, and some bitter lettuce. Roll that all in a pita or top it on grilled bread and give yourself a pat on the back. You did well.

If you haven’t discovered Chile’s merken made from the cacho de cabra chile, you should definitely have a taste. A buyer for Zingerman’s turned me on to it a couple years back, and I have been using the spice almost as frequently as pepper ever since. Here’s an old note from Zingerman’s owner Ari talking about all the things you can do with merken.

Makes 4 sandwiches
2 Organic skinless boneless chicken breasts
A few pieces of red leaf or other bitter lettuce, washed and torn
Whole wheat pita or bread, warmed or toasted
A handful of green cracked olives, chopped

Marinade
1 cup Lebni yogurt, try a flavored one from Likitsakos Specialty Foods
1 shallot, minced
1 garlic clove, minced
2 scallions, minced (optional)
1/2 teaspoon Merken or chili blend
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon garam masala, preferably freshly ground
Freshly ground black pepper
Sea salt
A few turns of fresh nutmeg
Some squirts of fresh lime
A few pinches of celery seed (optional)
A handful of mint leaves, washed and chopped (optional)

Mix in a bowl. Wash the chicken and dry thoroughly. Cut into even strips. Cover with marinade, reserving some as a topping. Place in fridge for at least an hour.

Heat olive oil in a skillet over medium. Cook the chicken on both sides until slightly browned, about 4 minutes each side. Remove from heat.

1 Spanish onion
2 stalk rosemary, minced
4 stalks oregano, minced
Olive oil

Heat some olive oil in a small sauce pan on medium-low and saute the onion until soft, about 8 minutes. Add in the rosemary and oregano, and cook until sweet, a couple minutes more. Season with salt and pepper and remove from heat.

Place the lettuce on the bread. Add the chicken. Top with the onions and olives. Add some extra yogurt on top. Serve!