Sometimes, you might get a bit overzealous in your country style rib ambitions. Or, maybe your guests are philistines and have turned up their noses at non-babyback products. Or maybe you just really like leftovers. Whatever the case, you're reading this because you woke up this morning and found ribs in your fridge, and you know full well that day-after ribs are never as good as the fresh-off-the-grill variety. Experience is a cruel mistress.
Luckily for you, there's a viable use for leftover ribs that by and large doesn't taste like leftovers. Instead, it tastes like barbecued pulled pork, which I consider to be a perfectly acceptable substitute. The secret is to get the meat steaming hot. If it's not hot enough, the juices won't run right and the meat will be dry.
1 pre-barbecued country-style rib
1 sandwich roll
barbecue sauce of your choice
Slice the rib into bite-sized chunks. Microwave on medium-high in 90 second increments until hot. Put in sandwich roll, add sauce to taste, and eat. Makes 1 sandwich.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Tacos
Once upon a time, I was a Girl Scout. This was a while ago, and I didn't keep up with it for very long. But at one time, merit badges held a certain allure, and I'm sure my parents were quite happy to see me socializing. I was a bit of a loner, even then.
One of these merit badges was some sort of house keeping or cooking thing. The important part was that I had to make dinner for my family. I think I was about 9 years old at the time. I made tacos, and my parents were really proud of me. I was always surprised at that because even then, tacos were something I didn't have much trouble with, and I don't recall thinking it was a big deal. I served brownies for dessert.
I didn't stick with the girl scouts. There was the 'incident' on a camping trip involving a large fireball and the unfortunate loss of some of my hair, and I always felt like the boy scouts had more fun.
However, I still know how to make tacos.
One of these merit badges was some sort of house keeping or cooking thing. The important part was that I had to make dinner for my family. I think I was about 9 years old at the time. I made tacos, and my parents were really proud of me. I was always surprised at that because even then, tacos were something I didn't have much trouble with, and I don't recall thinking it was a big deal. I served brownies for dessert.
I didn't stick with the girl scouts. There was the 'incident' on a camping trip involving a large fireball and the unfortunate loss of some of my hair, and I always felt like the boy scouts had more fun.
However, I still know how to make tacos.
Dorm Room Desperation: Ramen in the Sink
My freshman year of college, I lived in luxury. I was lucky enough to be placed in an apartment with air conditioning and a full kitchen. My roommate was wonderful, and we had a great time on Friday nights cooking dinner and watching old Hitchcock movies. Then she graduated. My new roommate was an experienced and consummate slob, and after one semester, I fled for a single dorm room in a building with 300 people and one kitchen 3 floors away.
My diet rapidly disintegrated as I cooked less and ate out more. My all time low, however, was when I started cooking ramen noodles in my bathroom sink. I didn't have a microwave, so I would dump dry noodles in a bowl, add half the required amount of hot water, and half the seasoning packet. I learned to like crunchy noodles.
My diet rapidly disintegrated as I cooked less and ate out more. My all time low, however, was when I started cooking ramen noodles in my bathroom sink. I didn't have a microwave, so I would dump dry noodles in a bowl, add half the required amount of hot water, and half the seasoning packet. I learned to like crunchy noodles.
Drinks for People Who Don't Like the Taste of Alcohol
I fall in this category. Over the years, I've learned to appreciate whiskey well enough to enjoy mint juleps, but for the most part, alcohol tastes like gasoline to me and it's something I want no part of. It doesn't help that I tend to shy away from sour or bitter drinks. So I've started devising concotions that mask the taste of alcohol. Usually, this includes vodka and more than a few mixers.
I've never harbored any illusions that these would be considered good drinks. They taste good to me, but in the grand scheme of things, they're pretty wimpy. So it was with some surprise that I was giving out this recipe one New Year's Eve to a bunch of older friends whom, I felt, should have known better. This is also very anticlimactic as recipes go. That particular night, I didn't have access to any liquors or other tricks, so the recipe I was giving out was, "Vodka and chocolate milk. Yes, really. Make chocolate milk. Add a satisfying amount of vodka. Stir and enjoy. And be careful not to drink it too fast."
1 c milk
2 Tbsp chocolate syrup
1-2 oz vodka
optional flavorings: amaretto, Irish cream, Godiva liquor, creme de cacao, creme de menthe, peppermint extract, butterscotch schnapps, kahlua, Starbucks coffee liquor.
Combine all ingredients. Stir. Serve over ice in a tumbler, or in a martini glass.
I've never harbored any illusions that these would be considered good drinks. They taste good to me, but in the grand scheme of things, they're pretty wimpy. So it was with some surprise that I was giving out this recipe one New Year's Eve to a bunch of older friends whom, I felt, should have known better. This is also very anticlimactic as recipes go. That particular night, I didn't have access to any liquors or other tricks, so the recipe I was giving out was, "Vodka and chocolate milk. Yes, really. Make chocolate milk. Add a satisfying amount of vodka. Stir and enjoy. And be careful not to drink it too fast."
1 c milk
2 Tbsp chocolate syrup
1-2 oz vodka
optional flavorings: amaretto, Irish cream, Godiva liquor, creme de cacao, creme de menthe, peppermint extract, butterscotch schnapps, kahlua, Starbucks coffee liquor.
Combine all ingredients. Stir. Serve over ice in a tumbler, or in a martini glass.
Texas Style Brisket
My parents belong to a neighborhood cooking club. Three times a year, they'll plan huge themed parties where every member is mailed a recipe that they're responsible for preparing and bringing to the party. One year, my dad got this one. we loved it and now he and I make it for special occasions. Our birthdays, for example, which fall two days apart.
It takes time but it's well worth it. My dad serves it with barbecue sauce, which I think is overkill, so I normally serve it plain, with a bottle of sauce off to the side for people who want it. The grilling stage is NOT optional.
For the spice rub:
1/4 c chili powder
2 Tbsp salt
2 Tbsp paprika
4 tsp garlic powder
4 tsp black pepper
2 tsp cayenne pepper
2 tsp white pepper
1 tsp cumin
The meat: 3 whole briskets, about 4 lbs each
30-40 kaiser rolls.
Combine all spices. Rub spice mixture liberally onto briskets so they are completely coated. Let stand 1-2 hours at room temp. Preheat oven to 325F. Wrap meat in aluminum foil and place in shallow pans on a rack. Add approximately 1/4 inch of water to the pan. Alternatively, you can cut up carrots, onions, and potatoes and have the brisket stand on vegetable chunks. These should then be served with the brisket. Bake for 5-6 hours until meat is very tender, adding more water to roasting pans as necessary. Preserve roasting juices. Over a medium grill fire, unwrap meat and grill for 10-15 minutes per side until charred. Let meat stand for about 15 minutes, then slice thinly across the grain. Serve in roasting juices.
It takes time but it's well worth it. My dad serves it with barbecue sauce, which I think is overkill, so I normally serve it plain, with a bottle of sauce off to the side for people who want it. The grilling stage is NOT optional.
For the spice rub:
1/4 c chili powder
2 Tbsp salt
2 Tbsp paprika
4 tsp garlic powder
4 tsp black pepper
2 tsp cayenne pepper
2 tsp white pepper
1 tsp cumin
The meat: 3 whole briskets, about 4 lbs each
30-40 kaiser rolls.
Combine all spices. Rub spice mixture liberally onto briskets so they are completely coated. Let stand 1-2 hours at room temp. Preheat oven to 325F. Wrap meat in aluminum foil and place in shallow pans on a rack. Add approximately 1/4 inch of water to the pan. Alternatively, you can cut up carrots, onions, and potatoes and have the brisket stand on vegetable chunks. These should then be served with the brisket. Bake for 5-6 hours until meat is very tender, adding more water to roasting pans as necessary. Preserve roasting juices. Over a medium grill fire, unwrap meat and grill for 10-15 minutes per side until charred. Let meat stand for about 15 minutes, then slice thinly across the grain. Serve in roasting juices.
Hallie's Comet: Adventures In Starbucks
Whatever else you may think of Starbucks, they have one undisputed Really Awesome (tm) service, which is that they're willing to make just about anything you ask for if they have the ingredients and the time. So one day I had a break in the middle of a gig on a fairly warm day and I headed down to my local Starbucks and asked for this drink by description. The barista was quite excited about this and thought they might actually start advertising it. He asked for my name, and when I gave it to him, he said, "We'll call it Hallie's Comet."
1 pt apple juice
1 pt black tea/iced tea
2 shots caramel
cinnamon and nutmeg
ice
Dump all ingredients in a blender. Blend until mixture reaches slushie consistency. Drink on warm days.
1 pt apple juice
1 pt black tea/iced tea
2 shots caramel
cinnamon and nutmeg
ice
Dump all ingredients in a blender. Blend until mixture reaches slushie consistency. Drink on warm days.
Country Style Ribs: An Ode
This country seems to have an obsession with baby back ribs. I suppose this makes some sense. They're tender and juicy and they give cooks an opportunity to show off various spice rubs and secret BBQ sauce recipes. And let's not forget the grill. Rib chefs are lords of their grills, and woe-betide the person who gets in the middle of that relationship.
I've never really seen the point. Part of the reason for this is that the ratio of meat to bone is disappointing, and I don't like to fight with my food. More to the point, I grew up with something far better: country style pork ribs. Country style ribs are thick, meaty, juicy, and completely satisfying to see on a plate. I can make a meal out of two, rather than half a rack. All the same opportunities for futzing with spice rubs and sauces still exist. And finally, there is nothing so satisfying as telling your guests that you're serving ribs and seeing the look on their faces when said ribs appear.
I've never really seen the point. Part of the reason for this is that the ratio of meat to bone is disappointing, and I don't like to fight with my food. More to the point, I grew up with something far better: country style pork ribs. Country style ribs are thick, meaty, juicy, and completely satisfying to see on a plate. I can make a meal out of two, rather than half a rack. All the same opportunities for futzing with spice rubs and sauces still exist. And finally, there is nothing so satisfying as telling your guests that you're serving ribs and seeing the look on their faces when said ribs appear.
Babysitter Resources: Hallie's Famous Grilled Cheese
I never had a huge or noteworthy babysitting career. My two main clients were my mom when she needed someone to watch my little sister, and a nearby family with two angelic children who never caused me any problems. Once I got to be about 15 or 16, I started to have a life outside of school and books, and consequently my weekends were no longer available for babysitting. Nevertheless, there are some skills that every babysitter absolutely must have, and one is the ability to quickly cook something that takes very few ingredients and will still be deemed acceptable by the charges.
My 'signature' dish was grilled cheese. This fact, even then, was a source of amusement to me. I grew up not liking cheese. I don't even remember how I came to know how to make them, but my sister especially used to beg for these. The secret is not to get too fancy with ingredients. Butter, off-the-shelf bread full of preservatives, and American cheese pre-sliced, are the essentials. Don't mess with them. Save the fancy stuff for the parents.
For one sandwich
2 slices generic white or wheat bread
2 slices American cheese
1 Tbsp butter
Butter one side of each slice of bread. Make a cheese sandwich so that the buttered sides of the bread are facing OUT (i.e. not touching the cheese). Place a frying pan over medium-high heat. Cook the sandwich on one side until bread is nicely toasted. Cheese might not be melted at this point. Flip and cook until bread is toasted and cheese is melted. You might need to reduce the heat to make sure the bread doesn't burn. DO NOT SMASH WITH THE SPATULA. This is not allowed. Makes 1 sandwich.
My 'signature' dish was grilled cheese. This fact, even then, was a source of amusement to me. I grew up not liking cheese. I don't even remember how I came to know how to make them, but my sister especially used to beg for these. The secret is not to get too fancy with ingredients. Butter, off-the-shelf bread full of preservatives, and American cheese pre-sliced, are the essentials. Don't mess with them. Save the fancy stuff for the parents.
For one sandwich
2 slices generic white or wheat bread
2 slices American cheese
1 Tbsp butter
Butter one side of each slice of bread. Make a cheese sandwich so that the buttered sides of the bread are facing OUT (i.e. not touching the cheese). Place a frying pan over medium-high heat. Cook the sandwich on one side until bread is nicely toasted. Cheese might not be melted at this point. Flip and cook until bread is toasted and cheese is melted. You might need to reduce the heat to make sure the bread doesn't burn. DO NOT SMASH WITH THE SPATULA. This is not allowed. Makes 1 sandwich.
Eggs: My Arch Nemesis
There aren't too many foods that I hate to make. Some cooking processes are more pleasant than others, but it's usually true that the benefits of the final product far outweigh any unpleasantness inherent in the making of said dish.
...which is why the bane of my kitchen existence is not food, but paint. Egg tempera paint. I hate making it. It involves separating an egg by hand, which wouldn't be so bad if I didn't actually need the palms of my hands to do it. But in the interests of completely removing the white from the yolk, I have to immerse my hands in foul-smelling snot. And the stench lingers for days. DAYS!!
...which is why the bane of my kitchen existence is not food, but paint. Egg tempera paint. I hate making it. It involves separating an egg by hand, which wouldn't be so bad if I didn't actually need the palms of my hands to do it. But in the interests of completely removing the white from the yolk, I have to immerse my hands in foul-smelling snot. And the stench lingers for days. DAYS!!
Random Mini Thought
I have an odd relationship with chick peas. It's normal now; I like them, I put them in salads and maybe some Indian food, and that's the end of it. But my parents, guardians of the embarrassing past, tell me that when I was three or four years old, I threw a small temper tantrum in a restaurant in my quest for chick peas. There was chanting and banging of silverware on the table and everything else.
Random Mini Thought
I'm here to confirm that all your suspicions are true. Good pie crust is, in fact, a black art. I've been there, I've seen it, and no recipe in the world can adequately prepare you for what you actually need to know in order to make it.
Graduation Stories
Last year, Chris and Jim, another housemate, graduated. I stuck around for graduation, met their families, and generally enjoyed the weekend.
Months prior, Jim's parents had suggested that he make reservations for dinner at a local restaurant. This was to be the night before graduation, and it was to include Jim and his family, Chris and his family, and me. Jim never quite got around to making the reservations. We struck out anyway, in search of a restaurant, but everything within driving distance was packed with other people who had the same idea.
Jim and I were sitting in the lobby of where ever we were, contemplating an obscene wait time, when I pointed out that we'd probably eat more quickly if we went to the grocery store and cooked food at home.
We herded eight people down to the local supermarket to pick up steaks, salad stuff, garlic bread fixings, wine, and dessert, and then dragged it all home and out to the grill. Jim's dad cooked the steaks, Chris' dad was in charge of the grill, we had a great dinner on couches in the living rooms, and we all decided it was a good enough tradition that now that I'm graduating and Chris is getting his master's, we're going to do it again this year.
Months prior, Jim's parents had suggested that he make reservations for dinner at a local restaurant. This was to be the night before graduation, and it was to include Jim and his family, Chris and his family, and me. Jim never quite got around to making the reservations. We struck out anyway, in search of a restaurant, but everything within driving distance was packed with other people who had the same idea.
Jim and I were sitting in the lobby of where ever we were, contemplating an obscene wait time, when I pointed out that we'd probably eat more quickly if we went to the grocery store and cooked food at home.
We herded eight people down to the local supermarket to pick up steaks, salad stuff, garlic bread fixings, wine, and dessert, and then dragged it all home and out to the grill. Jim's dad cooked the steaks, Chris' dad was in charge of the grill, we had a great dinner on couches in the living rooms, and we all decided it was a good enough tradition that now that I'm graduating and Chris is getting his master's, we're going to do it again this year.
The Grill and The Marshmallows
I have a long-standing theory that college life is one long string of instances in which a protagonist asks, "Why not?" and doesn't find an answer.
Take, for instance, the couch on our front porch. It arrived unceremoniously heaped atop a housemate's car. I know this because I arrived home to find the couch still on top of the car, and on top of *that* were my housemate and a friend. The car was parked on the side of the road, and my friends were enjoying the weather and watching the world go by. Occasionally, passing motorists would contribute a surprised and delighted horn honk which was received with a smile, a wave, and a toast.
This couch, rescued from a fate of certain landfill, ended up on our front porch, in the process displacing an old, rickety outdoor love seat as the primary porch seating location. During the warmer months, I used any excuse I could to sit on the couch and enjoy being outdoors. Breakfast and dinner were taken there, and when homework inevitably beckoned, I had a long extension cord that would follow me outside so I could work on my laptop. I particularly loved to be out in the rain. I would sit and watch thunderstorms through walls of water pouring off the roof, separating me from the elements.
By far, however, the greatest couch events invariably included the other key member of the porch assembly: the grill. We had a small charcoal grill out front and during the spring we made a habit of inviting friends over for a sunset barbecue. The grill was short enough that most charcoal tending could be easily accomplished while sitting on the couch, and it was at moments like these that we honestly thought that life didn't get any better.
The process of grilling with charcoal is a time-critical sequence of events. There is an interval in which the coals are hot enough to grill meat and dense vegetables. After this time period has passed, the coals are still hot and glowing. They're just not hot enough to do anything useful. Also, chances are good that everyone is full. It seems a shame, though, to waste all the heat that the coals are still putting out, which is why marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate are a mandatory part of most grilling sessions at our house.
One particularly enjoyable night -- involving four friends and a very satisfying burger event -- found us in possession of mini marshmallows, but no other s'more ingredients. Not to be deterred, we soldiered on. And then some intrepid soul decided to experiment with liquor soaked 'mallows. As if colloidal sugar structures didn't burn well enough on their own. And thus, the Buttershots marshmallow was born. Imbued with a newfound sense of purpose, we conveyed to the porch an assortment of sweetly flavored liquids -- more liquors, peppermint extract, and the remains of a bottle of wine that had been shared over dinner.
Someone produced a bag of chocolate chips and we immersed ourselves in the newfound science of marshmallow infusion. Systematically experimenting with various flavor combinations, we easily polished off the bag of marshmallows. The coals were still glowing though.
Take, for instance, the couch on our front porch. It arrived unceremoniously heaped atop a housemate's car. I know this because I arrived home to find the couch still on top of the car, and on top of *that* were my housemate and a friend. The car was parked on the side of the road, and my friends were enjoying the weather and watching the world go by. Occasionally, passing motorists would contribute a surprised and delighted horn honk which was received with a smile, a wave, and a toast.
This couch, rescued from a fate of certain landfill, ended up on our front porch, in the process displacing an old, rickety outdoor love seat as the primary porch seating location. During the warmer months, I used any excuse I could to sit on the couch and enjoy being outdoors. Breakfast and dinner were taken there, and when homework inevitably beckoned, I had a long extension cord that would follow me outside so I could work on my laptop. I particularly loved to be out in the rain. I would sit and watch thunderstorms through walls of water pouring off the roof, separating me from the elements.
By far, however, the greatest couch events invariably included the other key member of the porch assembly: the grill. We had a small charcoal grill out front and during the spring we made a habit of inviting friends over for a sunset barbecue. The grill was short enough that most charcoal tending could be easily accomplished while sitting on the couch, and it was at moments like these that we honestly thought that life didn't get any better.
The process of grilling with charcoal is a time-critical sequence of events. There is an interval in which the coals are hot enough to grill meat and dense vegetables. After this time period has passed, the coals are still hot and glowing. They're just not hot enough to do anything useful. Also, chances are good that everyone is full. It seems a shame, though, to waste all the heat that the coals are still putting out, which is why marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate are a mandatory part of most grilling sessions at our house.
One particularly enjoyable night -- involving four friends and a very satisfying burger event -- found us in possession of mini marshmallows, but no other s'more ingredients. Not to be deterred, we soldiered on. And then some intrepid soul decided to experiment with liquor soaked 'mallows. As if colloidal sugar structures didn't burn well enough on their own. And thus, the Buttershots marshmallow was born. Imbued with a newfound sense of purpose, we conveyed to the porch an assortment of sweetly flavored liquids -- more liquors, peppermint extract, and the remains of a bottle of wine that had been shared over dinner.
Someone produced a bag of chocolate chips and we immersed ourselves in the newfound science of marshmallow infusion. Systematically experimenting with various flavor combinations, we easily polished off the bag of marshmallows. The coals were still glowing though.
Fizzies: Dad's Cosmological Temper Tantrum Weapon
Up until I was about 12, our family had a vacation tradition of spending two weeks of August in Duck, North Carolina. Gradually, the rest of our extended family would migrate down, and we would eventually gather 11 people in one beach house to celebrate a host of summer birthdays and anniversaries. My cousin and my sister and I spent 8 hours per day on the beach and generally had an amazing time, but occasionally things got rocky, and then my dad would make Sun Fizzies. Sometimes he would make them just for the heck of it. I enjoyed these more for the name than the actual flavor since they contained orange juice (which I HATE). Eventually, however, the drink arsenal was expanded to include most of the planets and other celestial bodies, and I've added a few more.
A fizzie is some sort of mixer combined with seltzer, and served over ice. Start with half seltzer, half mixer, and adjust from there. I've listed the mixers for each below
Sun Fizzie: orange juice
Venus Fizzie: apple juice
Mars Fizzie: cranberry-raspberry juice
Jupiter Fizzie: apple juice with a maraschino cherry for the red spot
Saturn Fizze: orange juice, garnished with rings of orange, lemon, and lime.
Uranus Fizzie: blue raspberry kool-aid
Asteroid Belt: grape juice and pop-rocks
Super Nova: No seltzer. Instead, equal parts of ginger ale and cran-ras juice, and optionally a splash of grenadine.
A fizzie is some sort of mixer combined with seltzer, and served over ice. Start with half seltzer, half mixer, and adjust from there. I've listed the mixers for each below
Sun Fizzie: orange juice
Venus Fizzie: apple juice
Mars Fizzie: cranberry-raspberry juice
Jupiter Fizzie: apple juice with a maraschino cherry for the red spot
Saturn Fizze: orange juice, garnished with rings of orange, lemon, and lime.
Uranus Fizzie: blue raspberry kool-aid
Asteroid Belt: grape juice and pop-rocks
Super Nova: No seltzer. Instead, equal parts of ginger ale and cran-ras juice, and optionally a splash of grenadine.
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
Senior Review
First of all, you should all read this letter written to a food blogger from a 60 year old man in the UK who doesn't know the first thing about cooking and is trying to figure out where to start.
Now then. My Senior Review is on MONDAY. At 9AM. And it's supposed to be cold. I'll be spending 30 minutes presenting my work and another 20 getting feedback. Among the pieces showcased will be this one -- KitchenWar. I'll be spending a lot of time on this because it's a big project, and I think it would be impudent, bordering on rude, to talk so much about food without serving some to my panel.
I need suggestions for what to serve. I will not be able to cook anything there, though I will be able to plate it. I was originally thinking about Russian Creme with raspberries, but that's more summery than is appropriate for a 40 degree Monday morning. So now I'm thinking potato soup. Not really a breakfast food, but it's warm and hearty, and I can probably keep it warm on the way to campus. I was also tempted to do some skillet popcorn, though I don't know how well that will travel. Maybe home made muffins...? I think there's a microwave in my review room, so I suppose I could cook them the night before and warm them up.
Now then. My Senior Review is on MONDAY. At 9AM. And it's supposed to be cold. I'll be spending 30 minutes presenting my work and another 20 getting feedback. Among the pieces showcased will be this one -- KitchenWar. I'll be spending a lot of time on this because it's a big project, and I think it would be impudent, bordering on rude, to talk so much about food without serving some to my panel.
I need suggestions for what to serve. I will not be able to cook anything there, though I will be able to plate it. I was originally thinking about Russian Creme with raspberries, but that's more summery than is appropriate for a 40 degree Monday morning. So now I'm thinking potato soup. Not really a breakfast food, but it's warm and hearty, and I can probably keep it warm on the way to campus. I was also tempted to do some skillet popcorn, though I don't know how well that will travel. Maybe home made muffins...? I think there's a microwave in my review room, so I suppose I could cook them the night before and warm them up.
Sunday, April 1, 2007
Red Velvet Cupcakes
I'm always wary of trying recipes for foods that I've never tasted because while I can distinguish between "delicious" and "rancid motor oil", it's hard to know if things taste the way their supposed to.
Red velvet cake in particular was a terrifying prospect. I wanted to try it because in addition to a stunning presentation, it had this weird not-quite-chocolate-but-not-really-vanilla thing going on. People say it's a chocolate cake, and it does have cocoa, but recipes generally call for 2 Tbsp of cocoa per 2 layer cake. That's not chocolate cake the way I think of it.
Red velvet cake is also scary for an entirely different reason involving food coloring. The recipe uses a lot of it. Reader reviews were issuing warnings about using latex gloves and not rushing, lest your hands and kitchen look like a murder scene.
I started looking up recipes and it turns out that red velvet cake is a very southern, very traditional food and southerners are as opinionated about how to make it as I am about my cheese steaks.
The cupcakes are really good. This cupcake recipe calls for 1/4 c of cocoa, which is more than normal, but I really like the
So the bottom line is I have no idea if this is authentic red velvet cake, but these cupcakes are the lightest, fluffiest, and most moist cupcakes I've ever had. I'm happy.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Caltrops: The Teen Years
One of society's guilty pleasures seems to be failure, specifically when it happens to other people. Oh sure it's great to watch people succeed at their endeavors, and we'll even applaud them as long as it doesn't happen too often, but nothing really compares to that self-satisfying triumphant pleasure that comes from seeing someone else fail, preferably in a spectacular, explosive manner.
You're all in luck. Recently I realized I've reached what I call the teenager stage of cooking, and it's hysterically funny and terrifying all at once. I know everything, I'm never wrong, I'm completely invincible in the kitchen. Recipes are for other people (as are mistakes) but I have the freedom to pick and choose my directions on a whim. It's quite a rush.
It's also not without its disastrous moments:
Wonton Wrappers These do, in fact, dry out. You are not immune. You're not special. If you don't treat them like phyllo dough with the damp towel routine, they will crack and crumble and they won't fold. And then, and then, they'll take their last bit of residual moisture and stick themselves together in the freezer where they'll sit, ready to crumble into worthless shards as soon as you try to break them apart to cook. Whereas, if you just use the damn towel, they'll be foldable, and they won't glue themselves together in the freezer.
Coarsely Ground Corn Meal, Finely Ground Corn Meal, And Pizza Dough
Your pizza dough recipe probably calls for finely ground cornmeal. Mine does. Do not, in a fit of frustration, decide that coarse will work just fine unless you are prepared to spend an hour with a mortar and pestle to make your own. Especially, do not give up on the mortar and pestle plan after 15 minutes, deciding that it's "good enough." It's not. Your pizza dough will end up sticky and gritty, you'll have to add a bunch more flour, you won't actually taste the corn meal, and your pizza dough will be dense. It's horrible.
Oh. And don't skimp on the salt. 2 tsp distributed through a recipe's worth of dough never hurt anyone.
Speaking of Pizza Dough...
If the weather is warm and you've been buried in winter for a few months, you will find that everything tastes better grilled. Veggies, burgers, apples, leftovers, and yes, even pizza. You'll find that when you shape your crusts, the first attempt will end up lumpy, uneven, and full of holes. Most people would dismiss such a blunder as not worth worrying about, since the crust will end up covered in toppings and no one will notice. This is true, but to so casually gloss over the situation is to discard a valuable opportunity for a grilling object lesson.
You will need:
Your devoted kitchen helper will reappear a few minutes later looking like a sad puppy with a crispy, somewhat charred pizza crust and a plaintive whine of, "It's burnt to poop."
You're all in luck. Recently I realized I've reached what I call the teenager stage of cooking, and it's hysterically funny and terrifying all at once. I know everything, I'm never wrong, I'm completely invincible in the kitchen. Recipes are for other people (as are mistakes) but I have the freedom to pick and choose my directions on a whim. It's quite a rush.
It's also not without its disastrous moments:
Wonton Wrappers These do, in fact, dry out. You are not immune. You're not special. If you don't treat them like phyllo dough with the damp towel routine, they will crack and crumble and they won't fold. And then, and then, they'll take their last bit of residual moisture and stick themselves together in the freezer where they'll sit, ready to crumble into worthless shards as soon as you try to break them apart to cook. Whereas, if you just use the damn towel, they'll be foldable, and they won't glue themselves together in the freezer.
Coarsely Ground Corn Meal, Finely Ground Corn Meal, And Pizza Dough
Your pizza dough recipe probably calls for finely ground cornmeal. Mine does. Do not, in a fit of frustration, decide that coarse will work just fine unless you are prepared to spend an hour with a mortar and pestle to make your own. Especially, do not give up on the mortar and pestle plan after 15 minutes, deciding that it's "good enough." It's not. Your pizza dough will end up sticky and gritty, you'll have to add a bunch more flour, you won't actually taste the corn meal, and your pizza dough will be dense. It's horrible.
Oh. And don't skimp on the salt. 2 tsp distributed through a recipe's worth of dough never hurt anyone.
Speaking of Pizza Dough...
If the weather is warm and you've been buried in winter for a few months, you will find that everything tastes better grilled. Veggies, burgers, apples, leftovers, and yes, even pizza. You'll find that when you shape your crusts, the first attempt will end up lumpy, uneven, and full of holes. Most people would dismiss such a blunder as not worth worrying about, since the crust will end up covered in toppings and no one will notice. This is true, but to so casually gloss over the situation is to discard a valuable opportunity for a grilling object lesson.
You will need:
- 1 mangled pizza crust (sacrificial)
- 1 hot grill
- 1 set of incomplete crust grilling instructions. These should include the amount of charcoal to use, the exact configuration of the charcoal, and the start of the sentence detailing the amount of time each side should be grilled. The actual time should be omitted. For best results, do not refer to these instructions until after the charcoal has been configured incorrectly, lit, and allowed to burn down to coals.
- 1 inexperienced kitchen helper
Your devoted kitchen helper will reappear a few minutes later looking like a sad puppy with a crispy, somewhat charred pizza crust and a plaintive whine of, "It's burnt to poop."
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Bok Choi and Wonton Soup
I had a great, long spring break which I spent in San Francisco and at home. Chris was gallivanting around California. It was fun.
Then Chris got sick. He blames changing weather and too much time on airplanes. He's been miserable all week and he hasn't had much of an appetite. I figured it was about time I learned to make soup. Carpe Diem and all that.
I've got 2 main internet sources for recipes: foodtv.com and epicurious.com. FoodTV is the website of the Food Network, and it has all the recipes from the programs it shows, as well as viewer submitted recipes and some stuff from their test kitchens. Epicurious is the home of Bon Appetit and Gourmet magazines, so it has all of those recipes, as well as reader submitted stuff.
Both of these have a few very important features: reader reviews, photos, and test kitchens. It's very comforting to know that some of the recipes have been tested and tweaked by people who know what they're doing. The photos are useful reference points for how things are supposed to look, and the reader reviews save me the trouble of making bad recipes. Usually, readers will offer some very good tweaks of their own, and more importantly, if there's a mistake in the recipe, readers will generally catch it and add corrections in the comments section.
I generally use FoodTV the way I use Joy of Cooking. I'll find a recipe to use as a base, and I can be confident that it will turn out fairly well, although it won't be spectacular without a bit of experimentation.
Epicurious recipes are usually a bit more complicated with more ingredients and frills and I've found that they take longer, but I don't have to be too creative.
My soup recipe came from a combination of both this time. The stock and bok choi instructions started out here, and I used this pot sticker recipe as a base for my wontons. Both recipes were heavily modified, so the end result bears only slim resemblance to the original. I had no patience for an 8 hour stock, and I had the pot stickers on hand already. The trick with the pot stickers is that 1 recipe will make 40 or 50 dumplings and they freeze well. So some can be dumplings and some can be wontons and it all works out really conveniently.
Ingredients:
6 cups reduced sodium stock (I used chicken, but I think you could use just about anything)
6 cups water
3 cloves garlic, chopped
1 bunch scallions, chopped
1 tbsp ginger, chopped
soy sauce to taste
1 head bok choi, cleaned and chopped
30 pot stickers (henceforth known as wontons in this recipe)
Simmer the stock, water, garlic, scallions, ginger, and soy sauce for about an hour. Use this time to prepare the bok choy. Add the bok choy and let boil for 3 to 4 minutes, until "crisp tender". Add the pot stickers and let cook for another 3 minutes, until filling is done. Cut a wonton open and check, especially if using frozen wontons.
Serve hot.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Stocking the Arsenal
I'm starting a new collection of recipes called the Arsenal. Recipes in the Arsenal will be common items that are easy to master and turn out much better than anyone has a right to expect.
Look to the Arsenal when you need to impress a date, when you're hanging out with friends, or when you want a jazzed up version of comfort food. This stuff will deliver.
Look to the Arsenal when you need to impress a date, when you're hanging out with friends, or when you want a jazzed up version of comfort food. This stuff will deliver.
Arsenal: Skillet Popcorn
It could be argued that this is a bad topic for the Arsenal. Most of the people who would propose that view are people who have never had good skillet popcorn and until a few days ago, I was one of those people. However, I've been converted and I'm bringing my message to the masses.
You will need:
popcorn kernels
canola/vegetable oil
skillet with tight fitting lid, preferably glass
optional seasonings:
salt
butter*
cayenne pepper
garlic powder
grated cheese
anything in your spice rack or pantry
I didn't list amounts of any of this because it's all in direct relation to the size of your pan. You need enough oil to coat the bottom of the pan, and enough kernels to cover the bottom of the skillet in 1 layer.
Add the oil to the skillet, and put 5 to 10 test kernels in there with it. You'll be using these kernels to indicate when the oil is hot enough for the popcorn. Put the lid on and then turn the burner on high. Now, wait for the test kernels to pop. If you've got a glass lid, this is where you'll appreciate it. Otherwise, just listen. Once the kernels start to pop, lift up the lid in front of you so that it's between you and the pan. This way, the lid will act as a shield and protect you from stray kernels. Add the rest of the popcorn, replace the lid, and agitate the pan. You should hear popping soon. If you're using glass, you'll notice your kernels starting to brown. This is normal. Continue to agitate the skillet until the popping has slowed to 5 seconds between pops. Remove from heat and put the popcorn into your serving bowl.
If you want to season, now is the time. Salt is usually a good start, followed by whatever else you want to add. I generally add salt, cayenne, grated parmesan, and garlic powder. Butter can also be added at this stage, although I've found it doesn't add much.
*I don't actually like butter on my skillet popcorn. Oil and salt add enough flavor for me, and the butter just adds grease.
Sunday, March 4, 2007
Your ankles, they are jelly
I haven't been cooking much recently so this post will instead be about the ice skating event on Friday night.
The grad student collective sponsored an ice skating happy hour at the local rink, and since Chris is a grad student, I got to tag along.
It was an odd night.
First of all, I am not the type to begrudge anyone the right to skate (or ski or body surf etc.) regardless of their skill level except when their lack of skill poses a direct danger to themselves or others. And while I can think of many instances in skiing where I've experienced such hubris (all you western skiers who don't give the east coast ice slicks the respect they deserve, I'm talking to you. And your 5 year old on the double diamond. Him too. He is shorter than the moguls and I can't see him until I land on him), I've never considered ice skating to be a particularly dangerous beginner sport. The environment doesn't change, there are no bumps or slopes, and there are handy walls should things get out of control.
After Friday night's experience, I've had to amend my opinions on this matter. If, even with a death grip on the wall, you can't manage to stand up straight because your ankles are too weak, then maybe skating isn't for you. I mean, come on. If neither your arms nor your legs are strong enough to keep you vaguely vertical, you should not be handicapping yourself even further.
And if, after 90 minutes of falling, things still aren't working, maybe you should take a break. Preferably before you sprain your ankle (yes this happened).
I understand that there's a learning curve involved. And that's fine. But I don't like to see people getting hurt. And more to the point, were these people having any kind of fun at all? It didn't look like it. They all looked terrified, and justifiably so. Who really wants to spend their Friday fearing unspecified pain when they could do something else?
The moral of the story is DON'T BE AN IDIOT.
The grad student collective sponsored an ice skating happy hour at the local rink, and since Chris is a grad student, I got to tag along.
It was an odd night.
First of all, I am not the type to begrudge anyone the right to skate (or ski or body surf etc.) regardless of their skill level except when their lack of skill poses a direct danger to themselves or others. And while I can think of many instances in skiing where I've experienced such hubris (all you western skiers who don't give the east coast ice slicks the respect they deserve, I'm talking to you. And your 5 year old on the double diamond. Him too. He is shorter than the moguls and I can't see him until I land on him), I've never considered ice skating to be a particularly dangerous beginner sport. The environment doesn't change, there are no bumps or slopes, and there are handy walls should things get out of control.
After Friday night's experience, I've had to amend my opinions on this matter. If, even with a death grip on the wall, you can't manage to stand up straight because your ankles are too weak, then maybe skating isn't for you. I mean, come on. If neither your arms nor your legs are strong enough to keep you vaguely vertical, you should not be handicapping yourself even further.
And if, after 90 minutes of falling, things still aren't working, maybe you should take a break. Preferably before you sprain your ankle (yes this happened).
I understand that there's a learning curve involved. And that's fine. But I don't like to see people getting hurt. And more to the point, were these people having any kind of fun at all? It didn't look like it. They all looked terrified, and justifiably so. Who really wants to spend their Friday fearing unspecified pain when they could do something else?
The moral of the story is DON'T BE AN IDIOT.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Jumbalaya!
Just in case you missed it, Mardi Gras was last week. I didn't celebrate, but I did jump on the Cajun/Creole bandwagon. I've never actually had jumbalaya, so I don't know if I did it right. It seems like an excessive amount of rice. The bread in the picture is from the wheat bread disaster.
Cookies!!
I made them, they are mine. All 5 dozen. 5 dozen. Let that be a lesson to you. Be really careful when you're cooking from a restaurant cookbook. Over at Frog, I'm convinced they make cookies by the gross. I don't actually need 5 dozen cookies. I don't need anywhere near that many. Life is hard.
In all seriousness, this recipe is very odd to make. Oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, normally with walnuts, but I used peanuts instead. You make a basic cookie batter, and then you add over a cup of oatmeal, 2 cups of chocolate chips, and 1.5 cups of peanuts. At then end of all this, you don't really have cookie batter anymore. You have oatmeal and peanuts and chocolate chips with a batter coating. They just barely hold together. This is a flat, crunchy cookie.
Pad Thai
A few weeks ago, I came across a pad thai tutorial, and I've been patiently waiting for an opportunity to make it ever since. It took me a little while to gather ingredients but last night Chris and I were finally in a position to give it a shot.
Pim, author of this tutorial, has much more experience cooking Thai than I ever will, so it's pointless for me to post a recipe, especially since mine didn't really work. However, I will mention a few things that I thought were missing from her instructions.
On fish sauce: This is easily acquired in your local grocery store. It looks a lot like soy sauce, and I believe that it serves a very similar purpose, which is to add salt to a dish. When you start to prepare the pad thai sauce, you will diligently reach for your fish sauce, intending to measure out the half cup required. If you, like me, have never worked with fish sauce before, you will, upon opening the bottle, be confronted with the foulest, most vile odor of your life. At this point, you should plan on a 5 minute recovery period. Use this time to convince yourself that fish sauce probably doesn't go bad, and therefore this smell is a good thing. This will take a strength of character you've probably never needed before. Fortunately, time is not crucial at this point, so use as much as you need to regain your composure. And you get an extra weapon which I didn't have: the smell will go away once you simmer the sauce. I had to take this on faith, but you all can be guaranteed that as soon as you heat the sauce, the smell will disappear and be replaced by the smell of tamarind, which is far more pleasant.
Rice Sticks: These are the noodles that go into pad thai. I've always seen pad thai made with linguine shaped noodles, aka flat, and judging by her photos, Pim is in favor of this. I could only find very thin, round rice noodles, and I couldn't get these to soften completely. I ended up adding about 1/4c of water into the noodles as soon as they went into the pan, and this did the trick, but I don't know if that would be necessary with the right noodles.
Adding Cold Things to Hot Oil: I don't deep fry, so I've never had the chance to get a handle on using lots of really hot oil. But based on what happened last night and all the deep fried turkey horror stories I read around Thanksgiving, I suspect that it's really important to make sure the chicken is fully thawed and dry before it goes into the wok. Just a theory, really, and if you aren't too attached to your arm hair to begin with, you can probably ignore this.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
A Note To The Underprivileged...
When I was growing up, my parents had what I now know to be the rare habit of keeping bread in the oven. There wasn't any real reason for this beyond the fact that we had nowhere else to put it. I didn't usually think much of it, although it did elicit some comment from friends who came over.
It also created a very amusing trial-by-fire situation for our babysitters, whom my mom would inevitably forget to inform of the bread situation. It became a fairly common occurrence for my parents to return home from a night on the town to find the house smelling of burnt plastic and a sheepish babysitter with a small, sad little pile of ziplock bags painstakingly filled with the remains of the bread stash.
Interjection: One of my housemates has confirmed that his family used to do the bread-in-the-oven trick as well. So it wasn't just us.
Anyway, the point of all this is that it taught me a very important lesson, which that you always, always check the oven before you turn it on. Basic kitchen safety 101, in my book.
These memories all came back last week. We are not renewing the lease on our house and our landlord has started setting up showings. In preparation for one of these, I was cleaning up the kitchen and running out of time. I was confronted with a bunch of heavy, dirty dishes under the purview of one of my housemates, as well as the remains of an angel food cake. In a desperate attempt to get out of the house before the landlord showed up, I shoved everything dirty into the oven and left.
I didn't hear about this until this morning, when the guilty party mentioned that he had disposed of the rest of the angel food cake "because it got baked twice." He followed this up with a very proud and self-satisfied, "I don't check the oven before I preheat it." I can only conclude that he was deprived as a child, as his parents must not have booby trapped their kitchen when he was growing up. (This was also the day he left the stove on. Another big no-no. In our house, that would have meant a pile of mail going up in flames.)
If you are the victim of kitchen theatrics neglect, help is available. It may be too late to adopt the trademark cavalier attitude towards alternative storage methods so common among the privileged, but with dedication and practice, you too can learn the art of safely using an oven.
It also created a very amusing trial-by-fire situation for our babysitters, whom my mom would inevitably forget to inform of the bread situation. It became a fairly common occurrence for my parents to return home from a night on the town to find the house smelling of burnt plastic and a sheepish babysitter with a small, sad little pile of ziplock bags painstakingly filled with the remains of the bread stash.
Interjection: One of my housemates has confirmed that his family used to do the bread-in-the-oven trick as well. So it wasn't just us.
Anyway, the point of all this is that it taught me a very important lesson, which that you always, always check the oven before you turn it on. Basic kitchen safety 101, in my book.
These memories all came back last week. We are not renewing the lease on our house and our landlord has started setting up showings. In preparation for one of these, I was cleaning up the kitchen and running out of time. I was confronted with a bunch of heavy, dirty dishes under the purview of one of my housemates, as well as the remains of an angel food cake. In a desperate attempt to get out of the house before the landlord showed up, I shoved everything dirty into the oven and left.
I didn't hear about this until this morning, when the guilty party mentioned that he had disposed of the rest of the angel food cake "because it got baked twice." He followed this up with a very proud and self-satisfied, "I don't check the oven before I preheat it." I can only conclude that he was deprived as a child, as his parents must not have booby trapped their kitchen when he was growing up. (This was also the day he left the stove on. Another big no-no. In our house, that would have meant a pile of mail going up in flames.)
If you are the victim of kitchen theatrics neglect, help is available. It may be too late to adopt the trademark cavalier attitude towards alternative storage methods so common among the privileged, but with dedication and practice, you too can learn the art of safely using an oven.
Friday, February 23, 2007
Battle Scars: Sweet Potato Mousse
I have discovered a new kitchen demon. It appeared while I was blithely steaming sweet potatoes, and I call it Scary Black Stuff.
I don't really know what happened. I was steaming sweet potatoes. The pot was probably too small, and at one point I ran out of water and had to add more. At the end, I had a house full of charred smell and Scary Black Stuff all over my steaming basket and the bottom of my steaming pan. And it took steel wool to get it off.
I was trying to combine my pumpkin mousse recipe with a vanilla sweet potato recipe. It shows promise, but the flavor isn't right yet. I cut the sugar in half and it's still the predominant flavor. The sweet potatoes are barely noticeable. When I get something more useful, I'll post a recipe.
Bread.
I have a lot of posts to catch up on, so there will be a bunch in quick succession this weekend.
I've mentioned before that most of the time I prefer home cooking to restaurant food, and this sentiment was strengthened last night when I remembered just how terrible bad take out can be. However, I've generally been content to buy some things premade from the grocery store. I look upon these as staples, and I keep them in my pantry with the flour and the sugar. They include things like pasta sauce and granola bars and until recently, bread.
I've never been much of a bread connoisseur. I tend to buy the artisan stuff from the bakery section, but it's not great bread and I know that and I don't care. It just needs to go with pasta and maybe support some garlic.
Then, last weekend, I really screwed up. I was baking a loaf of bread, and also trying to get ready for a fondue party we were having. I was in the middle of cleaning the house when I started the sponge, so I wasn't paying attention when I used wheat flour instead of bread flour. Then, I didn't pay attention to the timing very well and I ended up spending some of the party kneading bread and bench proofing and baking in an already quite cluttered kitchen, because I was also making 2 types of fondue.
I baked the bread in a pyrex pan. I didn't have anything else. I didn't have a pan of warm water in the oven during the baking, because normally I use my pyrex pan for that, and I needed it to hold the actual loaf of bread.
In the end, the pan wasn't big enough for the bread, and one side was square-ish. This was the least of my concerns when I took the bread out of the oven. I don't know what happened, but my normal baking time was far too long. The bread came out scorched. Almost blackened in some parts. And then it stuck to the pyrex and I ripped off half the bottom trying to get it out. The crust was so dried out that it was almost impossible to cut. It was a total disaster from a baking perspective. But it was still better than all the store-bought stuff.
Basic Wheat Bread (adapted from Alton Brown's Very Basic Bread)
Ingredients
5 oz wheat flour
11 oz bread flour, plus extra for shaping
1 tsp rapid rise yeast
2 tsp honey
10 oz bottled/filtered water
2 tsp kosher salt
hot water for rising
vegetable oil or cooking spray for greasing the rising container
a dusting of cornmeal, for bench proofing
1/3 c water
1 Tbsp cornstarch
For the sponge: Combine wheat flour, 1/4 tsp yeast, all bottled water, and the honey. Cover loosely and refrigerate for 8 to 12 hours. This develops the flavor of the bread.
Mix the sponge, bread flour, remaining yeast, and salt. If you have a stand mixer, knead with the dough hook on low for 2 or 3 minutes until dough comes together. If you're doing this by hand, do it by hand. Cover the dough with a kitchen towel and allow to rest for 20 minutes.
Knead the dough until it can be pulled into a sheet thin enough that light can pass through it. If you're kneading by hand, continue kneading for a few minutes after that. Until it feels good, I guess. The dough will be somewhat sticky.
Put hot water in a shallow pan in the oven. Grease a large container and place the dough inside. Allow to rise in the oven until doubled in size. This will happen after 1 or 2 hours.
Punch down the dough twice, cover with a kitchen towel, and allow to rest for 10 minutes.
Shape the dough into a ball and turn over. Squeeze the bottom of the dough ball so that the surface is smooth. Roll the dough between your hands to shape. Sprinkle a baking sheet with cornmeal and place the dough ball on top. Cover and bench proof for 1 hour.
Heat oven to 400 degrees F. Combine cornstarch and 1/3 c water and lightly brush the top of the dough ball. Slash the top of the dough in a few places, 1/3 to 1/2 inch deep. Add more water to the shallow pan in the oven if needed. It will stay in the oven during the cooking process. Cook for 50 to 60 minutes. Allow to sit 30 minutes before slicing.
I've mentioned before that most of the time I prefer home cooking to restaurant food, and this sentiment was strengthened last night when I remembered just how terrible bad take out can be. However, I've generally been content to buy some things premade from the grocery store. I look upon these as staples, and I keep them in my pantry with the flour and the sugar. They include things like pasta sauce and granola bars and until recently, bread.
I've never been much of a bread connoisseur. I tend to buy the artisan stuff from the bakery section, but it's not great bread and I know that and I don't care. It just needs to go with pasta and maybe support some garlic.
Then, last weekend, I really screwed up. I was baking a loaf of bread, and also trying to get ready for a fondue party we were having. I was in the middle of cleaning the house when I started the sponge, so I wasn't paying attention when I used wheat flour instead of bread flour. Then, I didn't pay attention to the timing very well and I ended up spending some of the party kneading bread and bench proofing and baking in an already quite cluttered kitchen, because I was also making 2 types of fondue.
I baked the bread in a pyrex pan. I didn't have anything else. I didn't have a pan of warm water in the oven during the baking, because normally I use my pyrex pan for that, and I needed it to hold the actual loaf of bread.
In the end, the pan wasn't big enough for the bread, and one side was square-ish. This was the least of my concerns when I took the bread out of the oven. I don't know what happened, but my normal baking time was far too long. The bread came out scorched. Almost blackened in some parts. And then it stuck to the pyrex and I ripped off half the bottom trying to get it out. The crust was so dried out that it was almost impossible to cut. It was a total disaster from a baking perspective. But it was still better than all the store-bought stuff.
Basic Wheat Bread (adapted from Alton Brown's Very Basic Bread)
Ingredients
5 oz wheat flour
11 oz bread flour, plus extra for shaping
1 tsp rapid rise yeast
2 tsp honey
10 oz bottled/filtered water
2 tsp kosher salt
hot water for rising
vegetable oil or cooking spray for greasing the rising container
a dusting of cornmeal, for bench proofing
1/3 c water
1 Tbsp cornstarch
For the sponge: Combine wheat flour, 1/4 tsp yeast, all bottled water, and the honey. Cover loosely and refrigerate for 8 to 12 hours. This develops the flavor of the bread.
Mix the sponge, bread flour, remaining yeast, and salt. If you have a stand mixer, knead with the dough hook on low for 2 or 3 minutes until dough comes together. If you're doing this by hand, do it by hand. Cover the dough with a kitchen towel and allow to rest for 20 minutes.
Knead the dough until it can be pulled into a sheet thin enough that light can pass through it. If you're kneading by hand, continue kneading for a few minutes after that. Until it feels good, I guess. The dough will be somewhat sticky.
Put hot water in a shallow pan in the oven. Grease a large container and place the dough inside. Allow to rise in the oven until doubled in size. This will happen after 1 or 2 hours.
Punch down the dough twice, cover with a kitchen towel, and allow to rest for 10 minutes.
Shape the dough into a ball and turn over. Squeeze the bottom of the dough ball so that the surface is smooth. Roll the dough between your hands to shape. Sprinkle a baking sheet with cornmeal and place the dough ball on top. Cover and bench proof for 1 hour.
Heat oven to 400 degrees F. Combine cornstarch and 1/3 c water and lightly brush the top of the dough ball. Slash the top of the dough in a few places, 1/3 to 1/2 inch deep. Add more water to the shallow pan in the oven if needed. It will stay in the oven during the cooking process. Cook for 50 to 60 minutes. Allow to sit 30 minutes before slicing.
Friday, February 16, 2007
At this point, a bit of background is probably necessary. Why the cooking, why this blog, etc.
The cooking first. I had 2 studio classes that required semester long projects. I was brainstorming ideas, and none of them were really very interesting to me. They all sounded like things that would get boring at about week 3. Cooking sounded a lot more fun. And it sounded like a way to ensure that I got a halfway decent dinner every night. Really, I just wanted to see what would happen if I cooked that much. There were some vague thoughts of the big picture: the obesity epidemic, and the foodie craze going on right now. But this project isn't about that.
The blog is my way of documenting my process. I use it for convenience more than anything else.
I've only been at this about a week and a half, but already, I've got thoughts on the matter of cooking. First of all, cooking shows lie. A lot. They perpetuate the myth that by watching a cooking show, someone who has never touched a stove in their life could have a full home cooked dinner on the table in half an hour. This is not true. It's certainly possible to cook a good meal in 30 minutes, but not if you don't know what you're doing. It takes practice, just like anything else.
My attitude toward cooking dinner has changed. I used to have a system that involved making one large meal at the beginning of the week and eating leftovers until I went shopping again. It's not that I didn't have time to cook dinner, but I wasn't motivated to do so. Simmering a soup for 30 minutes was too much. Now, I have no problems taking a little extra time to make dinner interesting. I don't eat the same food for 3 nights in a row. Now, ironically, I could easily get a meal on the table in 30 minutes. But I don't really care to. I don't need to.
The cooking first. I had 2 studio classes that required semester long projects. I was brainstorming ideas, and none of them were really very interesting to me. They all sounded like things that would get boring at about week 3. Cooking sounded a lot more fun. And it sounded like a way to ensure that I got a halfway decent dinner every night. Really, I just wanted to see what would happen if I cooked that much. There were some vague thoughts of the big picture: the obesity epidemic, and the foodie craze going on right now. But this project isn't about that.
The blog is my way of documenting my process. I use it for convenience more than anything else.
I've only been at this about a week and a half, but already, I've got thoughts on the matter of cooking. First of all, cooking shows lie. A lot. They perpetuate the myth that by watching a cooking show, someone who has never touched a stove in their life could have a full home cooked dinner on the table in half an hour. This is not true. It's certainly possible to cook a good meal in 30 minutes, but not if you don't know what you're doing. It takes practice, just like anything else.
My attitude toward cooking dinner has changed. I used to have a system that involved making one large meal at the beginning of the week and eating leftovers until I went shopping again. It's not that I didn't have time to cook dinner, but I wasn't motivated to do so. Simmering a soup for 30 minutes was too much. Now, I have no problems taking a little extra time to make dinner interesting. I don't eat the same food for 3 nights in a row. Now, ironically, I could easily get a meal on the table in 30 minutes. But I don't really care to. I don't need to.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Truffle Update
I forgot to add that the extra 4 oz of chocolate made everything better. I confronted the ganache while the soup was simmering. This time it was plenty stiff enough to scoop. So stiff that it bent the melon baller and didn't want to ball.
I scooped out ball sized chunks, coated them with cocoa powder, and shaped them with my hands. They turned out fine.
Ingredients
15 oz dark chocolate
6 oz heavy cream
3 tbsp caramel syrup (Joy of Cooking)
1/4c very very strong coffee
cocoa powder, for coating
Finely chop the chocolate and put in a heat resistant mixing bowl. Add the coffee and caramel. Over low heat, bring the heavy cream to a simmer and pour over the chocolate. Stir until chocolate is fully melted. Refrigerate until firm.
Scoop 2 tsp of ganache and coat with cocoa. Roll between hands to shape into a ball. The cocoa should keep the chocolate from melting to your hands. Store at cool room temperature in an airtight container.
I scooped out ball sized chunks, coated them with cocoa powder, and shaped them with my hands. They turned out fine.
Ingredients
15 oz dark chocolate
6 oz heavy cream
3 tbsp caramel syrup (Joy of Cooking)
1/4c very very strong coffee
cocoa powder, for coating
Finely chop the chocolate and put in a heat resistant mixing bowl. Add the coffee and caramel. Over low heat, bring the heavy cream to a simmer and pour over the chocolate. Stir until chocolate is fully melted. Refrigerate until firm.
Scoop 2 tsp of ganache and coat with cocoa. Roll between hands to shape into a ball. The cocoa should keep the chocolate from melting to your hands. Store at cool room temperature in an airtight container.
Soup!
I don't have a photo for this one, which is a shame because it was amazing. But even if I did, you wouldn't be able to smell it so it's a moot point.
Until now, I've always done grocery shopping in a very planned and methodical way. I'd figure out what I wanted to eat for the week, and then I'd buy exactly those components I needed. Generally, I didn't have anything left over, which was ok because chances were it wouldn't get used.
This philosophy does not work with potatoes. They come in 5 lb bags, and who in their right mind is going to use 5 pounds of potatoes in one meal? Or even in a week? That's a lot of potatoes.
I had a few left over and it was cold last night, and I wanted soup. I really love potato soup. It's one of my favorite soups, but I've never made it. I started looking up recipes, and mostly I found potato leek soup. I'm sure it's incredible, but I didn't have any leeks. I had scallions though. And cheese. And garlic.
Ingredients
2-3 potatoes thinly sliced (not baking potatoes and not new potatoes. The ones that fall in the middle of those)
6 cloves of garlic, chopped
3 tbsp butter
2 scallions, chopped
1/2 - 3/4c shredded cheddar cheese
salt to taste
ground pepper to taste
2/3c heavy cream, half and half, or something lighter (I used heavy cream because I had some lying around)
3c of some combination of water and low sodium chicken broth. I used 2 1/3 c water, and 2/3c chicken broth. More broth means less salt later, so adjust accordingly.
Over very low heat, melt the butter and saute the garlic until it just starts to brown. Add the chicken broth, water, and potatoes. Bring to a boil, and then reduce heat to a simmer. Simmer until tender. Joy of Cooking says this should be about 30 minutes, but mine were ready to go after 15.
Puree the soup in a blender. Do not over blend, or you will have glue. If you want a chunkier soup, you could probably hand mash the potatoes here. Return soup to a low heat. Add scallions, cheese, and cream. Stir until the cheese is melted. Add salt and pepper. Serve hot.
Advanced: Fry up some bacon and garnish with bacon chunks.
Until now, I've always done grocery shopping in a very planned and methodical way. I'd figure out what I wanted to eat for the week, and then I'd buy exactly those components I needed. Generally, I didn't have anything left over, which was ok because chances were it wouldn't get used.
This philosophy does not work with potatoes. They come in 5 lb bags, and who in their right mind is going to use 5 pounds of potatoes in one meal? Or even in a week? That's a lot of potatoes.
I had a few left over and it was cold last night, and I wanted soup. I really love potato soup. It's one of my favorite soups, but I've never made it. I started looking up recipes, and mostly I found potato leek soup. I'm sure it's incredible, but I didn't have any leeks. I had scallions though. And cheese. And garlic.
Ingredients
2-3 potatoes thinly sliced (not baking potatoes and not new potatoes. The ones that fall in the middle of those)
6 cloves of garlic, chopped
3 tbsp butter
2 scallions, chopped
1/2 - 3/4c shredded cheddar cheese
salt to taste
ground pepper to taste
2/3c heavy cream, half and half, or something lighter (I used heavy cream because I had some lying around)
3c of some combination of water and low sodium chicken broth. I used 2 1/3 c water, and 2/3c chicken broth. More broth means less salt later, so adjust accordingly.
Over very low heat, melt the butter and saute the garlic until it just starts to brown. Add the chicken broth, water, and potatoes. Bring to a boil, and then reduce heat to a simmer. Simmer until tender. Joy of Cooking says this should be about 30 minutes, but mine were ready to go after 15.
Puree the soup in a blender. Do not over blend, or you will have glue. If you want a chunkier soup, you could probably hand mash the potatoes here. Return soup to a low heat. Add scallions, cheese, and cream. Stir until the cheese is melted. Add salt and pepper. Serve hot.
Advanced: Fry up some bacon and garnish with bacon chunks.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Fighting the Good Fight
I came across a very detailed truffle recipe late last week. It seemed easy enough, and I was somewhat curious, so I added it to the ToDo list. Then, over the weekend, I was cleaning out our pantry and I found a graveyard of chocolate nubbins.
My grocery store carries quite a few lines of gourmet chocolate, and I make a habit of buying a different bar every few weeks for research purposes. They get thrown in my pantry and sampled randomly, usually while I'm doing homework. And apparently, they get eventually forgotten, until I'm rooting through the cabinets looking for pizza sauce and I end up sitting in a pile of half eaten chocolate bars.
The most embarrassing part of all this is that during my most recent foraging expedition, I came across not just bar remnants, but a brick of Ghiradelli dark(?) that my mom had given me a good long while ago. Ghiradelli wins taste tests against Scharffenberger & co. hands down, and I decided that something must be done.
I spent Monday morning making a bread sponge and melting chocolate. The truffle recipe calls for a ratio of 2:1 chocolate to liquid, and that's about where I started. 11oz chocolate and 5 or 6 oz of heavy cream. But as I was digging through the fridge for the cream, I found some caramel syrup I'd made a week previously as a mousse topping. And then there was about a 1/4c of coffee left over from breakfast. I thought caramel mocha truffles sounded really good.
No matter how much coffee or caramel I added, I couldn't get the flavor of either to cut through the chocolate. I used the 1/4c of coffee, and when that wasn't enough, I mixed up a few tablespoons of really strong instant and threw it in. And then that didn't help.
By this point, I'd given up on the flavor elements, because the chocolate by itself was pretty incredible. I put the ganache in the fridge to set up so that I could shape truffles later. But it didn't want to set. It thickened, but it never got hard enough to scoop. I figured I needed to add more chocolate to balance out the additional liquid, but I didn't have any more chocolate to use.
Monday night, however, I was rooting around in another cupboard for chicken broth (the pot sticker event) and I found 3 unopened boxes of unsweetened baker's chocolate.
These weren't my fault. I don't know where they came from, though my guess is they belonged to a former housemate. But they looked like good truffle material.
This morning, I woke up to a lot of snow and ice and decided that making truffles was a better plan than trying to walk to school, so I melted the chocolate with some sugar, mixed it into the ganache and threw it in the fridge. And now, I'm waiting to see if it will work. I added 4 oz of pure chocolate to the ganache. It occurs to me now that that might not have been enough. We'll see.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
I win!
Finally, something worked! Two things, actually. We had pot stickers and bread last night. And now we have lots of snow.
Monday, February 12, 2007
Bring it on, Phil
So much for the prognostication abilities of rodents. We're going to get something 6 to 10 inches of snow over the next few days. And it wasn't supposed to start for another 6 hours, but I'm looking out the window and I see flakes.
Hearkening back to a long standing family tradition, the bread dough is rising in the oven.
Hearkening back to a long standing family tradition, the bread dough is rising in the oven.
Don't Try This At Home
This post, and the previous entry about my failed potato spoon bread, have been something of a departure from the traditional food blog format. For some reason, people feel that anything less than perfect isn't worth blogging about. They don't make mention of their mistakes or of how many times they had to make the same recipe before they got it right. And I get it. No one really wants to cook a recipe that almost works. What's the point, when generally, much better, more reliable versions are available at blog down the street?
But it's false advertising. Cooking takes work, and blogging takes work, and if I have to cook everything 3 or 4 times before I get a blog entry out of it, I'm going to waste a lot of time, money, and food. I'll revisit recipes that didn't work the first time, but I'm not going to spend the weekend making 5 loaves of bread so that on Monday morning, I can claim perfection. For now, "almost" is just fine with me.
This almost worked. It was a great plan in theory. Make a savory pate a choux, fill with sandwich stuff, and have cute little tea sandwiches for dinner. "Almost" covers a lot of ground. I almost got the pate a choux right. But then they didn't puff in the oven, and they didn't have the big pocket in the center that characterizes a good pate a choux. I almost came up with a great marinated beef sandwich filling. Then I grilled it a bit too long and it dried out. I almost had some amazing grilled marinated veggies to go along with the beef, but I ran out of room on the grill, threw them in a pan on the stove, and watched them drown in their own moisture as they steamed to death, instead of picking up the proper char I was looking for. I almost had a really great sandwich concept, but the pate a choux dough, which I've never had before, has some serious egg overtones that I hadn't counted on.
But the principle is sound.
On the off chance that you've neglected your pastry studies, pate a choux is a very strange pastry dough that starts out by being boiled, and turns into cream puffs, eclairs, and theoretically some savory dishes of which I've only heard rumors (I've heard rumors that savory dishes with pate a choux exist. I have no idea what they actually might be.). This dough is characterized by its texture: instead of having small bubbles dispersed throughout, it ends up with one big center bubble, which is usually filled with stuff of your choice. It also has no yeast or baking soda. The size increase is due solely to the expansion of water vapor that occurs during cooking.
I wanted to try pate a choux because it's the only pastry I've ever heard of that is piped through an icing bag. I did my research here, at the repository of "Good Eats" transcripts, where there is a whole show devoted to pate a choux. I followed the recipe pretty much to the letter, except I mixed by hand instead of with a stand mixer. Also, the recipe doesn't mention it, but when you're piping out the dough, I think you're supposed to use the circular non-froufrou tip that you might or might not own. And failing that, I believe the next best thing is piping without a tip entirely and not using the widest florette tip you have. The florette tip doesn't allow enough dough throughput. I theorize that the ratio of dough volume to cookie sheet surface area is important. My cream puffs, which were taller than my eclairs, seemed to turn out really well, where as the eclair shells remained mostly flat.
I'm not really going to talk about the filling much, because I know where that all went wrong. No big mystery there. Moving on.
Like I said, this recipe almost works, from a perfectionist food blog perspective. In practice, it was a really good dinner. Also, in practice, the pate a choux tastes a lot better as a pumpkin mousse-filled cream puff.
Grilled Beef and Vegetable Pate a Choux Pockets
Ingredients:
4 savory pate a choux shells, recipe here
1/2 zucchini, cut into 1/2 inch strips
1/2 red bell pepper, cut into strips
1/2 green bell pepper, cut into strips
1 lb beef steak, for braising, cut into strips
--
Marinade: makes 3 cups
1 1/2 c. vegetable oil
1/2 c. soy sauce
1/4 c. Worcestershire sauce
2 tbsp. dry mustard
1/2 c. red wine vinegar
1/3 c. freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 clove garlic
1 tbsp. freshly ground pepper
Combine all marinade ingredients, and blend or whisk vigorously until thoroughly incorporated. Divide the marinade in half. Marinate beef strips as long as you can, in half the marinade. Ideally, 4 hours is a good number. In practice, if you can only do 30 minutes, it will still work out. Just baste the beef with extra marinade during cooking. About 30 minutes before cooking, drop the veggies in the other half of the marinade.
If you've got a grill, now would be a good time to pull it out. I use a counter top model with no temperature settings, so I can't give cooking instructions. If you're in the same boat, cook the beef and veggies for about 5 minutes. You might go a bit longer with the beef if you want well done. Or, sear the vegetables on the stove over high heat until they char a bit.
If you are actually looking for practical sandwich advice, cut the pate a choux shells lengthwise like a hoagie roll. If you want cute tea sandwiches, cut them widthwise. Fill with beef and vegetables. Serve hot.
4 savory pate a choux shells, recipe here
1/2 zucchini, cut into 1/2 inch strips
1/2 red bell pepper, cut into strips
1/2 green bell pepper, cut into strips
1 lb beef steak, for braising, cut into strips
--
Marinade: makes 3 cups
1 1/2 c. vegetable oil
1/2 c. soy sauce
1/4 c. Worcestershire sauce
2 tbsp. dry mustard
1/2 c. red wine vinegar
1/3 c. freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 clove garlic
1 tbsp. freshly ground pepper
Combine all marinade ingredients, and blend or whisk vigorously until thoroughly incorporated. Divide the marinade in half. Marinate beef strips as long as you can, in half the marinade. Ideally, 4 hours is a good number. In practice, if you can only do 30 minutes, it will still work out. Just baste the beef with extra marinade during cooking. About 30 minutes before cooking, drop the veggies in the other half of the marinade.
If you've got a grill, now would be a good time to pull it out. I use a counter top model with no temperature settings, so I can't give cooking instructions. If you're in the same boat, cook the beef and veggies for about 5 minutes. You might go a bit longer with the beef if you want well done. Or, sear the vegetables on the stove over high heat until they char a bit.
If you are actually looking for practical sandwich advice, cut the pate a choux shells lengthwise like a hoagie roll. If you want cute tea sandwiches, cut them widthwise. Fill with beef and vegetables. Serve hot.
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
Moving On...
To kick things off, I thought I'd start with a recipe specifically for getting rid of mashed potatoes. It's called Cheesy Potato Spoon Bread and it sounded good. And then it came out of the oven and it looked really good. It smelled amazing. This feeling of excitement was further bolstered by my discovery of non-fat cream cheese. I was only slightly anxious about a little part of the recipe -- a niggling little detail, really -- which left the vast majority of cheese completely unaccounted for. I didn't know where it was supposed to go. So I guessed.
See all that gloppy white stuff? It's cream cheese. Solid cream cheese goo. This stuff sits like mud on a plate and a brick in your stomach. My housemates assure me that it tastes wonderful, but I think improvements could be made. Or maybe I just don't appreciate spoon bread.
New Home
Here it is. My new home for the next couple months. I gave in to my inner foodie and now I'm doing semester long cooking projects for two of my art classes. This means approximately 20 hours of cooking and blogging every week.
Stay tuned.
Stay tuned.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)