The Hungry Masses

Holiday Cooking School: Perfect Pie Crust

2010-11-21T08:52:00.000-08:00

Sometimes you just don’t know what you’re missing—and when you finally find out, it’s enough to make you cry. I love the line in Stanley Tucci's 1996 film Big Night when, after the most memorable meal of her life, a woman is sobbing at the table:

Asks the boyfriend: “What’s wrong?”
She: “My mother was such a terrible cook!”

Ok, so my mom was NOT terrible cook; best spaghetti sauce EVER, best cream puffs, best holiday meals. But pies were never her thing. I grew up with Pillsbury read-made, ready to roll pie crusts procured from the refrigerated section of Piggly Wiggly, and they just weren’t that great—certainly not the appropriate vehicle for an amazing sour cherry filling, or any other perfect fruit of the season. My grandmother (also no slouch in the kitchen) was no help either, making her pie crusts with oil and flour. They were brittle, pale and tasteless—not exactly a recipe worth passing down to the next generation.

Shortly after getting married, I gave the homemade crust the old college girl try. My tragic attempts all seemed to end the same way; with a heap of crumbled dough in the trash and my defeated, greasy hands clutched around a giant glass of wine. What was I doing wrong?

Everything, according to my friend Renee, who agreed to take me under her wing a few years back to school me in making THE perfect pie crust. During the course of an entire autumn day spent making a dozen apple pies, I learned the following:

1. You must use shortening AND butter. Butter gives you amazing flavor, but the shortening (which is filled with millions of little bubbles produced during hydrogenation) contributes that tender, flaky texture that everyone wants in a good crust. Lard can yield that same texture, but frankly, I’m just not going there. Yet.

2. Every ingredient needs to be cold, cold, COLD. When your dough gets too warm, your fats melt, and working with the dough (rolling, shaping, etc.) becomes incredibly frustrating. This was one of my main areas of struggle before…

3. An overworked dough is a tough dough. Visible flakes of fat mean that as that fat melts in the oven, it will create little pockets of steam which push the structure of the dough up and out…creating flakes of crust. It’s a beautiful thing.

4. Next to love, an amazing pie is the best gift you can give to anyone. Period. Test this and just you see.

Perhaps you are one of the many who have endured the pre-made grocery store imposters all your life. Maybe you THINK you’ve had some decent pie at the church potluck or neighborhood picnic. Forget about all that, and just make this. When you finally realize what you’ve been missing, you may just tear up. You’re welcome.

(P.S. Thank you, Renee, for your hospitality and your culinary smarts.)

Perfect Pie Crust (Makes one bottom crust and one top crust)

2 ½ cups flour
2 T sugar
1 t salt
8 T cold shortening
12 T cold butter
6-8 T ice water

1. Cut butter into 1/4” pieces and place them on a small plate in the freezer; proceed directly to step 2.
2. In a large bowl, whisk together flour, sugar and salt.
3. Add in cold shortening and blend in by hand with a pastry blender, for a minute or two. There should still be plenty of visible balls of shortening in the flour mixture.
4. Add in the butter from the freezer. Contine to blend until mixture takes on the texture of small peas.

5. Add ice water, and stir very gently to “sort of” combine. The mixture should look rough, like this:

(Pretty shaggy...)

(But holds together when it needs to...)

6. Dump mixture onto a large piece of plastic wrap sitting atop your counter. Use the plastic wrap to shape the dough into one solid mass (less direct contact with your warm hands is always better). Divide into two equal parts. Shape each part into a disk, measuring about 6 inches across. Wrap each disk tightly in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 2 hours before using.

(note the visible flakes of shortening and butter.)

7. Bake according to the directions of whatever pie recipe you are using. (For fruit pies—like my favorite, sour cherry—I am loyal to my Joy of Cooking recipe that bakes at 425° for 30 minutes, then lowers the temp to 350° for the final 25-30 minutes. This yields a fully-cooked, non-soggy bottom crust.)

(rolled out, you can still see the flakes of fat...mmmm....)

Bam! Memorial Day (Emeril's Spicy Root Beer and Bourbon Glazed Baby Back Ribs)

2010-05-26T07:26:00.000-07:00

I’ve always found the story of Adam and Eve intriguing. Out of the dust of the earth, God fashioned a man. But to give him a proper companion, God uses a rib from Adam’s body, creating woman. The way I figure it, if a rib was important enough to be included in the story of mankind, we owe it to ourselves to enjoy a heaping pile of them every chance we can get. And hey, it’s a holiday weekend!

This is my favorite recipe for baby back ribs. The glaze is sweet and spicy, and the slow cooking method yields a fall-off-the-bone, meltingly tender quality that will leave you completely impressed with your mad cooking skills. Best served with a cold Newcastle and some homemade blue cheese dressing and celery sticks.

Emeril's Spicy Root Beer and Bourbon Glazed Baby Back Ribs

Toot Toot (the sound of my own horn)

2010-05-10T19:28:00.000-07:00

I have to admit, it felt pretty damn great to walk into Barnes & Noble last week (while tracking down a good Posole recipe) and see this book on display in the cooking section:

Edible Communities recently published a coffee table book about local food across the country, and I was fortunate enough to contribute two stories to the content. Edible: A Celebration of Local Foods is a beautiful book, and contains dozens of inspiring stories of the dedicated small farmers, culinary artisans, and chefs who make it their business to feed us from the riches of our own land and waters. The book also includes a huge recipe section, not to mention the gorgeous photography characteristic of every Edible publication (there are now 65 publications across the country…and growing).

I could go on about the local food movement—about the positive impact on your local economy that results when each person dedicates even a small percentage of their monthly food dollar to local food; about the environmental impact of monocropping, GMO’s and shipping in produce from another hemisphere; about the complex and far superior flavors of an antique variety of apple grown just a few miles from your front door—but I hardly need to say all that. Edible Communities is already doing a great job in that capacity; and now you can read all about it in bookstores everywhere. Cheers!

Cinco de Mayo (Pozole Rojo)

2010-05-04T23:28:00.000-07:00

Ever since I had my first taste of posole at El Barzon in Detroit last spring, I have been meaning to try a recipe from scratch at home. This version from Rick Bayless is definitely tasty; the rich pork broth is the color of wet terra cotta, made so by the mixture of toasted red ancho and guajillo chiles. Studded with shreds of pork and fluffly hominy, posole is a satisfying peasant soup. Similar to phở, another one of my favorite soups, posole is simple in and of itself, but you make it your own by adding the condiments you love the most—shredded cabbage, sliced radishes, cilantro, onion, oregano, avocado, or even fried pig's skin.

I ventured out to Avanza supermarket on South Federal Boulevard in search of the chiles, as well as pig’s head and feet, which are called for in the original recipe to lend rich flavor to the broth. When I asked the gentleman behind the meat counter if they had pig’s head, he simply replied, “Aisle 8.” Perplexed yet determined, I found the pig’s head in the frozen food aisle, but frankly the thought of letting a cabeza de Puerco thaw in my fridge for a couple days was less than appetizing. Luckily, the meat case back in the meat department had a whole pile of meaty bones designated “pork for posole,” so I settled for a large package of those to serve as the base for my soup. Bayless’ version also calls for using pig’s feet, allowing bits of cartilage and connective tissue to linger in the soup when served. While this certainly sounds authentic, it grosses out my husband (whose idea of authentic Mexican is Chipotle), so I opted to omit the trotters altogether in the interest of marital accord.

This soup takes a long time to make—not because it’s complicated, but because the stock needs to simmer away for hours in order to become properly flavored, and at least an hour or two more in order for the hominy to become tender once added to the pot. I guess this is why posole is typically served only on weekends in Mexican restaurants. This recipe is also very mild; if spice is what you crave, I suggest including the seeds when pureeing the toasted chiles (set them aside for pureeing but do not toast them; they will just burn), or adding hot sauce or chopped jalapeños to your selection of condiments. Nevertheless, I’m calling this venture a success. The recipe made enough to feed a small army, and the juxtaposition of warm soup and cool, crispy condiments is perfect to enjoy during a Colorado spring, when the sunny warm days give way to chilly evenings.

Happy Cinco de Mayo!

Posole Rojo
(from Rick Bayless’s Mexican Kitchen)

4 quarts canned hominy, drained and rinsed
4 pounds meaty neck bones
1 ½ pounds lean, boneless pork shoulder in a single piece
4 large garlic cloves
4 large ancho chiles, stemmed, seeded and deveined
4 large guajillos chiles, stemmed, seeded and deveined
1 Tablespoon salt

Condiments
8-10 radishes, sliced thinly
1 ½ cup onion (finely chopped)
1/3 cup dried oregano
2-3 limes
15-20 crispy fried tortillas or tortilla chips

1. Make the broth. Place meaty bones and pork shoulder in a very large stock pot. Cover with seven quarts of water; add garlic. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to a simmer and allow so simmer for 2-3 hours. By this time the meat should be completely fork tender and falling off the bones.
2. Meanwhile, tear chiles into large, flat pieces. Toast them (one or two pieces at a time) in a heavy skillet over medium heat until they crackle and blister on both sides. Remove chiles to a large bowl, cover with boiling water. Submerge and soak for 30 minutes; drain. Place in a blender with ½ cup water and blend until smooth. Strain through a sieve into small bowl. Set aside.
3. Remove bones and pork from the stock; shred the meat with a fork, reserving the meat in a bowl and discarding bones, fat and cartilage.
4. Add hominy and pepper puree to the stock, bring back to a simmer and continue simmering for another hour or two, until the hominy has softened and “bloomed.”
5. To serve, place a bit of warmed, shredded pork meat into a bowl; ladle in soup. Garnish with condiments.

Lean, Mean and Green: Smoothie

2010-04-22T07:37:00.000-07:00

In honor of Earth Day, I’m going green. A few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of interviewing nutritional consultant Eloise Nelson for an assignment with Edible Front Range magazine. She showed me how to make an amazing smoothie, packed with fruits and vegetables. This recipe is a variation of hers**, and makes enough for two huge servings—one for breakfast, one for mid-morning snack. It makes you feel clean and light all day long, which is more than I can say for the platter of giant muffins lurking in your typical office break room.

Combine the following in a blender:
1 banana, peeled
1 apple, chopped (leave skin on)
1 pear, chopped (or, you can substitute 1 cup of fresh or frozen pineapple or berries)
1 cup coconut water (unsweetened)
1 cup cold water
2 T chia seeds (Yes, they are the same seeds used to sprout your Chia Pet...and you can find them in the bulk section of any health food store)

Blend to combine; allow to sit for 2 minutes (the chia seeds not only add protein and essential fatty acids, but act as a thickener). Then add:
1 cup tightly packed spinach leaves
2-4 kale leaves (stems removed, chopped)
2 T organic hemp protein powder
3-4 ice cubes

Blend again and serve. This smoothie is meant to be enjoyed the day you make it. Leftovers oxidize and lose their nutritional value quickly.

**from her book, the 14-Day Gourmet Cleanse and Rejuvenation Program

Flex Your Mussels

2010-04-02T07:10:00.000-07:00

Sometimes life gets busy. Not so busy that I’ve resorted to Cheesy Blasters—ok, maybe I have spent a lunch or two in the home office with a Lean Pocket and some stale shiraz—but this is dinner we’re talking about. Everyone deserves a dinner good enough to right the day’s wrongs and usher us into our comfort zone (mine involves a big red couch, a second glass of wine and Mad Men on DVD).

Shellfish isn’t exactly in the forefront of our minds when it comes to the quick weeknight supper, but it really should be. In about the time it takes for pizza to be ordered and delivered, you can steam up a batch of these mussels in spicy tomato-cilantro broth. Serve them with a cold beer, a salad made from pre-bagged spring greens and a crusty baguette, perfect for sopping up the amazingly flavorful broth. It really is the perfect way to end the day, and much less regretful than, say, inhaling half a Domino’s pizza.

How to Prepare Mussels
There are certain culinary skills that seem mysterious and complicated, but are in fact shamefully easy. They are also the skills that you can talk about at a cocktail party (well, maybe just the kind of cocktail parties I like to go to) and come off looking like a badass in the kitchen. Preparing mussels is one of these many skills (a few others include properly using a chef’s knife, neatly carving a turkey, and making anything involving meringue). The first item of business is to scrub and debeard your mussels if necessary, which is not nearly as challenging or creepy as it sounds. The mussel’s “beard” consists of a fibrous material that the mussel uses to attach itself to rocks on the ocean bed. Harvested from the wild, the beards can be a little, shall we say, “wild and woolly”, and require more effort to remove. But most blue mussels we buy in the supermarket today are farm raised and cultured on ropes, so their beard (if any at all) is very small and easy to yank off. (As a side note, farm raised mussels are a sustainable source of seafood, and fairly inexpensive—quite fit to feed the hungry masses.)

You can buy them from the seafood department in your supermarket, found either loose on ice or in one-pound net bags. They should smell fresh and salty, like the ocean, and most of the shells should be closed tight. When you get them home, pick out any mussels that have shells slightly open and rap them smartly on the countertop. If the mussel closes back up, it’s alive and fine to eat. If it stays open, the mussel is already dead and should be tossed out. Give your mussels a quick rinse under cold running water (If I have extra time, I’ll give mine a soak in cool water—for up to an hour—just to wake them up a little and let them filter in some fresh water. But that is not necessary.) Now they are ready to be steamed, which takes only 4-5 minutes.

Mussels Steamed in Spicy Tomato-Cilantro Broth

1 ½ cups bottled clam juice
3 ripe tomatoes, seeded and chopped
¼ cup lime juice
3 Tablespoons hot pepper sauce
1 Tablespoon tomato paste
2 pounds mussels, scrubbed and debearded
5 Tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into ½" cubes
1 cup chopped fresh cilantro
¾ cup thinly sliced green onions
Crusty bread

Bring first 5 ingredients to a boil in a large pot, stirring occasionally. Add mussels and butter. Cover and cook until mussels open, about 4 minutes (discard any mussels that do not open). Stir in cilantro and green onions. Season with salt and pepper. Divide among bowls and serve with crusty bread.

Fennel Prosciutto Salad with Pomegranate & Mint

2010-03-04T08:51:00.000-08:00

It’s the same old story—on the first sixty-degree day of the New Year, I dig out a few items from my spring/summer wardrobe. I try (tug) on my shorts and skirts, let loose a string of expletives and vow to stop resting in the comforting arms of pot roast and mashed potatoes. With a new resolve, I start investigating fresher dishes that will keep my interest and shave off the layer of winter insulation, readying my legs and upper arms for the light of day. This salad is the first of many to come this season.

Fennel Prosciutto Salad with Pomegranate & Mint
(serves 4)

2 Fennel bulbs (green stems and fronds removed; cored and sliced very thinly)
1 large pomegranate, seeded
1 small bunch fresh mint
8 thin slices prosciutto

(Dressing)
Extra virgin olive oil
Mineola tangelo
Salt and pepper

In a medium bowl, combine sliced fennel with a drizzle of olive oil and the juice of one tangelo. Season lightly with salt and pepper, tossing to combine. For each serving, arrange a helping of fennel and two slices of prosciutto. Garnish generously with a handful of fresh mint leaves and pomegranate seeds.

(Prep Tip: Pomegranate juice has a way of staining everything—your clothes, cutting board, countertop—but separating the juicy ruby seeds from the white membrane doesn’t have to be a trial. Submerge the fruit in a bowl of water while seeding; the membrane will float to the top, the seeds sink to the bottom, and mess is minimized.)

Sunday Spanakopita and Phyllo School

2010-02-27T08:54:00.000-08:00

Ah, the Greeks—fathers of democracy, inventors of the vending machine, and makers of my favorite comfort food, spanakopita. This delicious dish, made of layer upon layer of buttery phyllo and filled with a mixture of spinach and feta cheese, is savory and satisfying—perfect for a Sunday supper—and I have Ms. Donna to thank for sharing her family’s version with us many years ago. I’ve yet to taste a better recipe.

Ms. Donna is one of my mothers’ oldest and dearest friends. Their husbands worked together for over 15 years, and they had kids at the same time. We all lived just a few streets away from each other, and so many of my childhood memories involve sleepovers with Donnas’ girls, summers by the neighborhood pool, and holiday dinners spent around the same table. Growing up in super-homogenous South Carolina, Donna stuck out like a refreshingly sore thumb—spunky, loud and proud of her giant Greek-Armenian family. She made spanakopita for special meals like Thanksgiving or Easter supper, and even though I shunned green vegetables for most of my childhood, I took an exception to her spinach pie, smacking my lips as the crispy, buttered layers of phyllo crumbled down the front of my shirt.

She taught my mom how to make spanakopita, and my mom taught me. This dish is not that complicated to make, once you get over your fear of phyllo pastry. Phyllo dough can be very temperamental stuff; the translucent, paper-thin layers dry out fast, and once they do they crumble into pieces in your hand. But a little practice (and preparing a phyllo-friendly work station before you begin) will assure you success.

This is a perfect dish to make on a weekend afternoon, when you are relaxed and in no hurry. Just strap on an apron, pour yourself a glass of wine, channel your inner Greek goddess and enjoy the process of working with your hands to make something amazing for your plate.

Spanakopita

2-3 onions, chopped
3 bags fresh spinach, washed (remove stems if using mature spinach leaves)
6 eggs, beaten
8 oz. feta cheese, crumbled
8-16 oz. cottage cheese (small curd)
4 Tablespoons flour
Salt and pepper
1 package of phyllo dough (if purchased frozen, thaw overnight in refrigerator)
1 stick butter, melted
Olive oil

1. Heat a tablespoon or two of olive oil in a large pan over medium heat. Sauté onions in olive oil until translucent and softened. Do not brown them.

2. Turn heat to medium-high, and add spinach to pan. Stir and cook, allowing it to wilt.

3. Remove spinach and onions from heat, allowing it to cool for 5 minutes or so. Then, mix spinach and onions in a large bowl with the eggs, feta, cottage cheese and flour. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

4. Create a safe environment for your phyllo dough. Place a damp dish towel on the countertop. Over the towel, place a layer of plastic wrap. Open half the package of phyllo and lay it out on plastic wrap (place the other half of the package back in the fridge for now). Cover phyllo with its wrapping, another layer of plastic wrap and another damp dish towel. Keeping your phyllo covered and in a moist(ish) environment will keep your delicate layers from becoming a brittle, breaking mess.
NOTE: Before you start assembling the dish, your work station should include the phyllo (covered properly), a bowlful of melted butter, a pastry brush and a 13x9” baking pan. (The photos below show a square 8X8" pan; a half-recipe.)

5. To assemble, first brush the bottom and sides of the pan with butter. Create a single layer of phyllo (using 2-3 sheets, depending on their size) in the pan, going up the sides of the pan. (NOTE: You want layers overhanging the sides of the pan. Eventually, you’ll roll them up to make a sealed crust.) Brush that layer with butter, then make another layer of phyllo. Repeat this until you have 8-10 layers of phyllo laid. Butter top layer. This will use half the package of dough.

6. Add filling.

7. Place top layers on over filling, always remembering to brush on butter in between each new layer….add another 8-10 layers.

8. Similar to how you would seal a pie crust by rolling under the top and bottom crusts, do the same with the top and bottom crusts of the Spanakopita.

9. With a very sharp paring knife, score crust into equal pieces.

10. Bake at 350° F for 40 minutes or until golden brown and cooked through.

Sacrilege (OR: trimming the fat): Now imagine that I am typing this in a whisper. I whisper because I’m guessing that real Greeks would shame me for even suggesting what I am about to suggest. But I’m not Greek- so there. And there is no glory in a spare tire around my middle caused by copious amounts of buttered phyllo. So this is what I do: I alternate brushing one layer with butter, then spraying the next layer with Pam cooking spray, the next with butter, and so on. I have eaten my share of Spanakopita both ways, and let me assure you, you will never know the difference. You’ll just save yourself half the butter calories. Bada Bing.

Crumbled Goat's milk feta

Spinach

Wilted in the pan...

My phyllo-friendly workstation (notice the towel covering the phyllo sheets to the left of the pan)...

Filling's in...

Ready for the oven...

Ready to eat!

Colorado In My Glass- Michigan In My Heart (Michigan Winter Seasonal Beers)

2010-01-12T10:14:00.000-08:00

Let me tell you, this was a very tough job—tour the best microbreweries in Southeastern Michigan and return home with the ‘Ol Bonneville’s trunk weighed down with gratis beer, each to be tasted with careful consideration. Well, someone’s gotta do it.

I had a blast, and so did the chefs that volunteered their time developing recipes especially for this article, utilizing two of the great winter seasonal beers we reviewed. For the recipes, pick up a copy of the latest edition of Edible WOW magazine

Read about Michigan Winter Seasonal Beers.

UPDATE (1/25/10): One of my readers brought to my attention the fact that the full article is no longer available on Edible WOW's website. I checked and sure enough, they removed the full content after the first few paragraphs. So below the photos I have posted the article in its entirety. Enjoy!

Original Article (Full)

Warm Up, Drink Up with Winter Seasonal Beers
By Alex Harrison

I you aren’t drinking Michigan beer, and regularly, then I have to ask: Why not?

Perhaps you don’t know where to begin, and understandably so; there are over fifty breweries, microbreweries and brewpubs in Michigan alone. In our region of Southeastern Michigan there are two dozen, each with their own body of hopped and malty work.

Admittedly, buying a six-pack of unfamiliar beer can be somewhat of a risk; perhaps you’ve been burned before. But we guarantee you that just about any beer you rustle up locally will be miles apart from the watery shadow-of-a-true-pilsner that you’ve been schlepping home from the supermarket. The best part is that wintertime is the perfect time for Southeastern Michigan beer. Just as our family dinner menus shift from platefuls of Caprese salad to warm bowls of hearty stews, winter seasonal beers make their return with flavor profiles to match your favorite cold-weather dishes. And edibleWOW is here to demystify the best of what Southeastern Michigan has to offer to all who are thirsty this season, highlighting three of our local breweries.

Dark Horse
First on our list of venerable brewers is Dark Horse Brewing Company, located in the tiny town of Marshall, an hour due west of Ann Arbor. Owner Aaron Morse runs a crew of crazy, ink-covered badass brewers who make no apologies for their big beers. Most are 6% alcohol by volume or higher, and boast a rich mouthfeel. These are no session ales, but they are perfect when served with a meal.

Their Scotty Karate Scotch Ale is the lightest winter seasonal of the group, with an aroma that reminds you of baked apple crisp. On the palate, big caramel and smoked malt flavors appear—Dark Horse smokes their own barley—with a lightly hopped, balanced finish. This beer is delicious on its own, sipped while you labor in the kitchen to get dinner going, but it shines when served with a chicken pot pie, Scotch Broth with lamb or even roasted salmon.

The first of the two coffee-infused brews in our winter beer lineup is Perkolator Coffee Dopplebock. This lager is a great ride on the palate, but promises to be gentle when it comes to the finish. Thanks to coffee beans roasted at Ypsilanti’s Ugly Mug Café and steeped in the base brew for twenty-four hours, any sense of bitterness is wrapped in the fruity coffee aroma. The rich flavor and finish make it a great match for a roasted pork, and would be perfection with a slice of chocolate cake.

Finally, Dark Horse gives us their Holiday Stout Series, five velvety and roasty beers that make you feel warm and fuzzy inside. The Tres Blueberry Stout is the most surprising of the bunch. Adhering to the motto, “beer first, fruit second,” it walks a delicate line and keeps all flavors in balance. It pairs well with the spicy, fruity flavors of barbecued meat. In fact, Aaron Cozadd, chef at (what restaurant these days?) developed a barbecue sauce using the beer itself, to be glazed over a succulent bone-in pork chop. (See the recipe section.)

Jolly Pumpkin
Our next group of exciting winter seasonal beers come from Jolly Pumpkin Artisan Ales. Located in Dexter, Michigan, Jolly Pumpkin’s Belgian-style sour beers have created serious buzz within the national beer-geek community these last few years. A “sour” flavor component might not initially sound like something you’re looking for in a beer, but super-hopped bitter beers (think I.P.A.’s) have soared in popularity over the last decade. Owner and brewer Ron Jeffries nurtures his beers slowly and with the care of a craftsman. Jolly Pumpkin beers get their pucker-up sour notes from open fermentation, followed by aging in oak barrels, which allows wild yeasts and natural sour bacteria to work magic, producing amazingly complex flavors.

First in the seasonal releases is Maracaibo Especial, a brown Belgian ale. With a huge, fluffy cappuccino-colored head, the aroma is yeasty and pungent, like malt vinegar and spice. Use your entire palate to taste this beer—notes of chocolate (from real cacao) and orange peel, followed by a serious astringent sourness. You can sip this beer all you like, but it really comes into its own when served alongside a nice, fatty meat like duck. The bright acidity cuts through the velvety fat on your palate, allowing its notes of spice and chocolate to linger a little longer. (See our recipe by chefs Max Sussman and Eve Aronoff of eve, Duck Breast Stuffed with Beer-Braised Cabbage.) (Chris, the recipe max gave us is for “cabbage/Brussels sprouts”…which veg. did Pam use during testing and choose here?)

Next comes Noel de Calabaza (released in December), a Belgian dark ale that combines the best of sour beer with the flavors of the holidays. Dried figs, plum, cinnamon and spice linger despite the flavors of tart sour fruit and oak. For the non-wine drinkers at your holiday table, a beer like this is a perfect match for spreads that include rich favorites like creamed spinach gratin, buttery fingerling potatoes and gravy.

Finally there is Madrugada Obscura, the Belgian stout with a dark, dark heart. Nearly black with a pungent aroma of wet wood, coffee and the barnyard, this beer is slightly foreboding. But take and drink; flavors in the middle include vanilla and even milk chocolate. Just brace yourself for that sour berry fruit finish. Served with Pernil, a Cuban-style roast pork shoulder whose marinade traditionally includes juice of the sour orange, this beer will compliment flavors in the marinade, as well as play off of the lovely fat in the pork.

Arbor Brewing Company
Arbor Brewing Company in Ann Arbor and Ypsilanti does a fine job of creating a body of brews diverse enough to appeal to any beer drinker, novice or geek alike. Owner Rene Greff created an identity for Arbor Brewing that includes true-to-style beers as well as unique offerings that mix styles, creating something altogether unique. Their seasonal beers stay true to beloved classic styles.

The Espresso Love Breakfast Stout, though a year-round favorite, is perfect for chilly Michigan winter days. This oatmeal stout is velvety-smooth, and similar to Dark Horse’s Perkolator brew, uses cold-brewed coffee from the Ugly Mug Café’s roasted beans. Without a trace of bitterness, this rich stout is laden with chocolate and roasted malt flavors. The sweetest of all the beers reviewed here, it is an indulgent drink paired well with pastries or chocolate desserts.

ABC’s Phat Abbot series includes a Belgian Dubbel and Belgian Tripel. Both use Belgian candy sugar to lend traditional Trappist characteristics. While the Dubbel possesses the deep, sweet lingering flavors of dried sugar plums and raisins, the lighter Tripel smells of banana and yeasty bread dough, with flavors of tropical fruit, spice and a drier finish. The Tripel would make a fabulous accompaniment to your Christmas ham, while the Dubbel would be perfect with an after-dinner cheese course.

Michigan winters may narrow our choices of locally grown produce, but seasonal beers can fill in the gap for those of us willing to seek out the best of anything local and delicious. Whether serving as recession-friendly weeknight indulgences, sure-bet hostess gifts, or edgy alternatives to the predictable table wine, it is time for you to discover the pleasures of local winter seasonal beers.

Colorado Stouts and Porters (Plus Gnocchi)

2010-01-02T08:30:00.000-08:00

Ah, the New Year...rhymes with New Beer. And I like the sound of that.

Since pretty much every Colorado beer is still new to me (and because I dared to proclaim to a friend that Michigan stouts and porters are amazing and would therefore be very hard to beat...apparently, them's fightin' words), a few of us decided that a Colorado stout and porter tasting was in order.

I designed a menu around five stouts and porters chosen by our dinner companions, which turned out to be a delicious, but completely over-the-top plan. After the meal, it took me nearly 24 hours to feel hungry again. But it was worth it. Here was the menu:

Course 1:
Ricotta Gnudi with Brown Butter, Pancetta, Crispy Sage and Cider Gastrique
Cutthroat Porter (Odell Brewing Co.)
Black Jack Porter (Left Hand Brewing)

Course 2:
Fennel and Parsley Salad w/Lemon Vinaigrette

Course 3:
Stout-braised Short Ribs w/White Bean Puree and Gremolata
Milk Stout (Left Hand Brewing)
Oatmeal Stout (Breckenridge Brewing)

Course 4:
Chocolate Pots de Crème (recipe here)
Cocoa Porter (Tommyknocker Brewery)

THE BEER

Odell’s Cutthroat Porter: This beer had a slightly spicy nose (think cinnamon), with hints of cola. It was surprisingly lighter on the palate than expected, with enough hops to provide a nice refreshing finish. It paired nicely with the gnocchi appetizer (I made a last minute substitute as the homemade ricotta gnudi was a spectacular failure; see recipe at bottom), complimenting the flavors of both the bracing gastrique and the rich pancetta and brown butter.

Left Hand Brewing’s Black Jack Porter: In comparison to the Cutthroat Porter, this beer was hoppy in the nose, but almost completely lacked that characteristic on the palate. This medium bodied beer had flavor notes of chocolate and dark plum, but was by no means so rich that it would deter me from going back for more; overall, a nice beer to drink alone or enjoy with a meal.

Left Hand Brewing’s Milk Stout: Oh mama…Lactose does work its magic on a good stout. The smooth, luxurious head foretells of the pleasures of the first sip—malty, creamy with notes of chocolate. Since it was light for a stout, it was my favorite pairing with the rich short ribs, which were draped in a velvety layer of sauce.

Breckenridge Brewing Oatmeal Stout: This was a perfectly good beer, a classic breakfast stout. But I’ll be honest; by this point in the evening my taste buds were growing numb from the onslaught of malt, meat and butter. I had also already knocked back three beers after slaving in the kitchen most of the day without pausing to eat. When I looked back at the notes I scrawled down about each beer, the only word I had written beside this beer was “Oatmealy.” Oh well.

Tommyknocker Cocoa Porter: I am sure there are people out there who like this beer, but those people do not include me. From the aroma, I could tell this beer was going to tank for me; an overwhelming scent of honey and chocolate. This translated into a taste reminiscent of Tootsie Rolls—which I hate anyway. There was just no balance to this beer, and so it was disappointing. And much like my own disposition by the time dessert was served, I noticed that most of our dinner companions left their Cocoa Porters…half drunk.

So to sum up, we ate well and drank even better. We also had great company, which frankly has a lot more to do with the success of any evening than either the food or the drink. As for my challenge to the Colorado beer community, I will concede that you showed me a porter or two that rival the Michigan beers that nursed me through the last few winters. Cutthroat Porter and Left Hand's Milk Stout are now on rotation in my fridge.

THE FOOD

The menu was a lot of fun to put together—my first attempt at short ribs (a success, thanks to Tom Colicchio’s Think Like a Chef) as well as gnudi (as stated before, a total failure). Gnudi is kind of like the cheesy, lighter cousin of gnocchi. I have heard raves about the ricotta gnudi served at New York’s über-popular Spotted Pig. I also figured by the time I actually go back to New York, gnudi will be “So Yesterday,” so why not try it now at home? Wrong. I f*cked it up royally.

Using a recipe from Zen Can Cook, I gave these little semolina-covered pillows of ricotta a whirl, but unfortunately they had not “set up” long enough before it was time to cook them. They disintegrated in the boiling water. To be fair, I had been warned that this could happen; depending on the moisture content of the ricotta cheese, the gnudi could take anywhere from 24 hours to 3 days to dry out enough to be “set” and ready to boil.

Good...

Still Good...

Dammit.

So I went with Plan B—store-bought gnocchi—and it turned out just fine. So fine, in fact, that I’m posting the recipe.

Gnocchi with Brown Butter, Pancetta, Crispy Sage and Cider Gastrique
Serves 4 liberally as an appetizer or side

2 ¼ inch slices of pancetta
3 sprigs fresh sage
1 16-oz. package gnocchi (either shelf stable or from frozen)
5 Tablespoons unsalted butter

Apple Cider Gastrique
2 cups apple cider
¼ cup apple cider vinegar

1. Make your cider gastrique. In a medium saucepan, combine the cider and the cider vinegar. Cook over medium heat, simmering and reducing until syrupy and thicker—the mixture amounts to about ½ cup. Set aside.
2. Set a large pot of water to boil on high heat.
3. While water for gnocchi is heating, dice pancetta. Cook in a frying pan over medium heat, until crispy. Remove from pan to a plate covered in paper towel. If there is enough fat rendered from the pancetta, you can go ahead and fry your sage leaves in that. Otherwise, fry sage leaves in olive oil until crisp. Drain on a paper towel and set aside.
4. When your gnocchi water is about to reach a boil, melt butter in a clean frying pan over medium heat. Swirl the pan as the butter heats and turns a golden brown. Keep an eye on it; do not let it get too brown. As soon as it reaches the desired color, turn off the heat on the burner.
5. Meanwhile, as butter melts, drop gnocchi into the water once it’s boiling (remember to salt your water!). Cook the gnocchi according to package directions (when they float, they’re ready). Transfer the cooked gnocchi immediately into the pan with the browned butter. Toss to coat.
6. To serve, divide the gnocchi among 4 plates. Spoon a bit of brown butter over them, then garnish with pancetta and a few sage leaves. Drizzle on the gastrique. Eat immediately.

Rugelach and Other Holiday Delights

2009-12-22T08:24:00.000-08:00

Hanukkah is over already, but for a Gentile like me, Rugelach never goes out of style during the holiday season. I have been making Ina Garten’s version of this rich cookie for the last four years. Cream cheese gives the dough a nice tang, and the insides are crammed full of apricot preserves, nuts and cinnamon-sugar. I even toss in a handful of mini chocolate chips for good measure. When the dough is mixed together with a purposeful (yet light) hand, these cookies will puff up in the oven, creating flaky layers of goodness.

I made eight dozen last week, and delivered them to the awesome neighbors on our block who have made us feel so welcome in our new hometown. I also made some for my utterly adorable Greek landlady, Sophia. Not to be outdone, however, as I handed her a little cellophane bag filled with Rugelach, she presented us with a GIANT platter of her homemade Greek pastries: honey-soaked Melomakarona, Kourabiedes, and of course, Baklava.

The baklava was positively sumptuous, perfumed with orange flower water. Swoon. “Just a little something,” she said, grinning from ear to ear as she accepted my gratuitous thank-you’s. (Have I mentioned that I adore this woman? Not just because of the frequent offerings of authentic comfort food, but also because she insists on calling me by my full (Greek) name, Alexandra. And when she does this, she rolls the “dr,” making me sound decidedly exotic.)

While I have yet to camp out in Sophia’s kitchen to bask in her culinary aura, I am posting the still delicious recipe for the Barefoot Contessa’s Rugelach. It would be a perfect cookie to lay out for Santa Claus, a nice departure from overly iced sugar cookies that tend to prevail the night.

To the hungry masses out there in the blogosphere, I wish you all a happy and peaceful holiday season. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Rugelach (from Barefoot Contessa Parties!)
Makes 4 Dozen

(Garten notes that these cookies, once assembled, can be frozen and then baked in small batches as you want them. This has worked for me quite successfully in the past.)

8 ounces cream cheese at room temperature
½ pound unsalted butter at room temperature
¼ cup granulated sugar plus 9 tablespoons
¼ teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 cups all-purpose flour
¼ cup brown sugar, packed
1 ½ teaspoons ground cinnamon
¾ cup raisins (I prefer to substitute the same amount of dried tart cherries, chopped)
1 cup walnuts, finely chopped
½ cup apricot preserves, pureed in a food processor
1 egg, beaten with 1 tablespoon milk, for egg wash

1. Cream the cheese and butter in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment until light. Add ¼ cup granulated sugar, the salt and vanilla. With the mixer on low speed, add the flour and mix until just combined.
2. Dump the dough out onto a well-floured surface and roll into a ball. Cut the ball into quarters, wrap each piece in plastic, and refrigerate for 1 hour.
3. To make the filling, combine 6 tablespoons of the granulated sugar, the brown sugar, ½ teaspoon cinnamon, the raisins and the walnuts in a small bowl. Set aside.
4. On a well-floured surface, roll each ball of dough into a 9-inch circle. Spread the dough with 2 tablespoons of preserves and sprinkle with ½ cup filling. Press the filling lightly into the dough. Cut the circle into 12 equal wedges—cutting the whole circle into quarters, then each quarter into thirds. Starting with the wide edge, roll up each wedge. Place the cookies, points tucked under, on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Chill for 30 minutes.
5. Preheat your oven to 350° F.
6. Brush each cookie with the egg wash. Combine 3 tablespoons granulated sugar and 1 teaspoon cinnamon and sprinkle on the cookies. Bake for 15-20 minutes, until lightly browned. Remove to a wire rack and let cool.

[NOTE: Do not even think about making these cookies without parchment paper, unless you want a molten sugar mess and many broken cookies. Also, remove the cookies from the parchment to a wire rack to cool within a few minutes of pulling them out of the oven. If you let these cookies cool on the parchment, you run a very high risk of the cookies sticking, which will mean shreds of paper on the bottoms of the cookies. Yucky.]

East Meets Midwest- Bi Bim Bob (Bi Bim Bap)

2009-12-08T09:02:00.000-08:00

I love our new digs in Denver, Colorado. Sure, it’s barely December and we’ve had two major snow storms—but every time I drive around town running errands, I’m guaranteed amazing views of the Rockies. But this blog isn’t about the weather or the view.

Let’s face it—I was spoiled in Ann Arbor. I wrote for a food magazine that regularly allowed me to eat well above my station, rubbing elbows with talented chefs and local farmers and culinary artisans. What’s more, my constant cravings for Korean food could be satisfied by driving in any direction.

Not so here in the Mile High City. Here, I am just another underemployed stiff with an eating habit I cannot afford. And Korean restaurants are nowhere near my neighborhood. Though I am carving out a new place in my heart for Vietnamese food, particularly phở, I still need my fix of spicy Korean stews bubbling away in iron pots, cute little bowls of Korean side dishes, and of course, Bi Bim Bap. What’s a girl to do?

She decides to start making her own Korean food at home, that’s what. I am starting with Bi Bim Bap, a dish that basically means “mixed rice.” It’s such a comforting dish, and can be modified to accommodate any picky eater who cringes over the intense heat of many Korean dishes. The real deal is dolsot bibimbap, which is served in a stone pot. The pot is superheated and coated with a bit of oil at the bottom, crisping up the bottom layer of rice…oooh, I shiver with delight. I could survive without the stone pot, but needed to search out some of the more authentic ingredients. On top of that, I combed the web for a recipe closest to what I enjoyed regularly at BeWon, a little Korean restaurant in my old ‘hood. I found my recipe (and a new culinary goddess to worship) on the blog Maangchi. With clear, pleasant instructional videos, this Korean living in New York shares her ability and traditional recipes with all of us wannabes.

I followed her recipe to the letter, with the exception of adding a little Country Bob’s All Purpose sauce to the seasoned meat. The sauce, which I came to love while serving time in Southern Illinois, lent a subtle flavor of Korean Barbecue to the dish, which scored very well with my hubby.

Aside from actually eating the dish, most of the fun came in finding all the ingredients at H-Mart, which is basically the Super Wal-Mart of Asian stores. I’ll say no more because the magic of H-Mart may very well be its own post one of these days. The trickiest ingredient to find was kosari, or dried fern bracken. Sound kind of nasty? Well, it was. While it was fun to experiment with the kosari as directed by Maangchi, the process of reconstituting the bracken in boiling water and soaking it overnight COMPLETELY STUNK UP MY KITCHEN. And not in a good way, either. For roughly twelve hours, my house smelled like a moldy gym sock.

(Kosari dried (left), and after boiling and overnight soaking (right))

But when all the ingredients came together, my kitchen smelled amazing, and the dish was a complete success. It tasted just as complex and well flavored as the B3 that I enjoy out, and even though it was a tad labor intensive I will definitely make it again.

Home Sick (Breakfast Bruschetta)

2009-11-09T12:14:00.000-08:00

I spent all day yesterday taking care of two children—one of them three years old, the other thirty-two— a perfect waste of a sunny Sunday. They are both sick with some unknown bug, and though my husband stumbled off to the office this morning, I am stuck at home with the smaller, much more whiny patient.

She wants nothing more than to watch episodes of Old School Sesame Street on DVD, curl up in my lap, and breathe the Plague directly into my nostrils. I am determined to get her well and back in preschool as soon as possible. So I am feeding her good things, in hopes of hastening recovery.

We made Nigella’s Breakfast Bruschetta for lunch, another perfectly good and speedy recipe from her 2007 book, Nigella Express. The sick patient, who hadn’t eaten all morning, scarfed it down and said (stuffy-nosed and gratefully), “Thanks, Mob. I sure lub abocado.”

One healthy lunch and a dose of Children’s Motrin later, and she was passed out in bed for two hours. Score.

Easy Peasy (Nigella's Pea and Pesto Soup)

2009-11-05T13:24:00.000-08:00

I wish I could say this soup was my idea. It’s so brilliant and simple. With 15 minutes and literally four strokes of your knife, you can get this verdant, flavorful soup onto your table (or, as goddess Nigella suggests, into a thermos for a workday lunch).

It's cheap, quick and made fabulous thanks to one of those “all the difference in the world” ingredients I love to use over and over again in my own kitchen- homemade pesto. I grew a ton of basil from seed this past summer, planted it in a border all around my yard, and made several batches of pesto while the bushes were nice and full. I froze my pesto in ice cube trays, which is a great way to store it in smaller portions for use all winter long. So when I came across the recipe this morning while perusing Nigella’s book, I popped a couple pesto cubes from the freezer and made the soup for lunch. It made me feel super healthy, and seemed to justify the handful of mellocreme pumpkins I ate for dessert.

Start:

15 Minutes Later:

15 Minutes After That:

Pea and Pesto Soup (from Nigella Express)

(feeds 2, generously)
3 cups water
3 cups frozen peas (I like petite peas)
2 scallions, coarsely chopped
1 teaspoon kosher salt
½ teaspoon lime juice
¼ cup fresh pesto (homemade or the “fresh” kind you find in tubs in the refrigerated section of the grocery store)

1. Bring water to a boil.
2. Add frozen peas, scallions, salt, and lime juice. Allow to simmer up to 7 minutes. (NOTE: Once I added the frozen peas, I let it all come back to a boil, but only for about 3 minutes.)
3. Discard scallions- blend the peas and the liquid with the pesto in a blender.
4. Test for seasoning (NOTE: I added a little more lime juice to my own taste. When it was all said and done, I used the juice from one small lime.)
5. Serve.

All the Difference in the World (Your Secret Ingredients)

2009-10-28T09:42:00.000-07:00

So many of us these days (myself included) are stretching our food budgets to the limit, trying to save wherever we can. There are tons of websites and resources out there devoted to “feeding your family on a shoestring.” (One of the more valuable websites I've seen is Cook For Good, which helps people develop a healthy, budget-friendly and planet-friendly strategy for feeding a family for about $1.26 per meal. This site has gotten some buzz from Mark Bittman’s blog, if you’re interested in learning more.)

But cheap and healthy eating can become very monotonous. Lots of beans. Lots of homemade yogurt. Lots of homemade bread. Simple recipes are too often missing the special few ingredients that, while adding to the cost of the dish, punch up the flavor or add a richer mouthfeel that makes an otherwise lame-o dish truly satisfying.

A recent example: Last week I bought a very sub-par wedge of Parmesan (I use the name loosely) cheese. I didn’t want to cheap out completely and get the old Kraft-in-a-Can standby, but frankly, I might as well have. It was almost flavorless, with no discernable aroma, no nuttiness, no creaminess, no bite. Just rubbery and bland. In fact, it kind of ruined my homemade tomato sauce. Dammit!! Now I don’t even want to use the half a wedge that’s left, and I should have just spent the extra 3 bucks on a piece of real, well-aged Parmigiano-Reggiano.

Are you feelin’ me out there?

So I want to know: What are the crucial ingredients that give a boost to your home-cooked, shoestring dishes? When is it a bad idea to substitute a more economical ingredient for the real deal called for in the original recipe? Winter is coming, and we all need some fresh ideas to keep us inspired and healthy.

At The Stroke of Midnight...Pumpkin Cornmeal Pancakes

2009-10-19T09:50:00.000-07:00

I love pumpkin. Not just because it has the power to transform almost any banal baked good into an incarnation moist and flavorful, but because every time I eat anything infused with this intensely-flavored squash, I think of my friend and surrogate sister, Nicole.

Nicole and I have been eating and laughing together since we were thirteen, and it is ridiculous how many memories of her and I involve the following: pumpkin bread, pumpkin spice, and mellow crème candy pumpkins. We used to gift each other with a bag of candy pumpkins every year, eating them by the handful as we curled up on the couch watching trash TV in our crappy little college apartment.

Nicole also used to whip up batches of pumpkin pancakes on occasion, in our tiny kitchen with the sloping floor, on cold mornings when we’d have the thermostat cranked down to 58° to save money. This recipe is an homage to hers—moist, dense, and replete with assertive spices and cornmeal for a surprising crunch. Make some. They are enough to turn even the grumpiest eater in your home into a morning person.

Pumpkin Cornmeal Pancakes (serves 2 adults generously)

½ cup cornmeal
½ cup flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon ground ginger
¼ teaspoon cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
Pinch of ground cloves
½ cup pumpkin (pureed, from a can) (TIP: Portion out the rest of the can into half-cup servings and freeze for later use.)
1 teaspoon grated orange peel
¼ cup brown sugar
¾ cup milk
1 egg
1 cup walnuts, roughly chopped
Maple syrup

1. In a small pan warmed over medium heat, toast walnuts, stirring frequently, until they are browned on all sides and pleasantly fragrant. Remove from pan and set aside to cool.
2. In a large bowl, whisk to combine cornmeal, flour, baking powder, salt, and spices.
3. In a medium bowl, whisk to combine pumpkin, milk, egg, brown sugar and orange peel.
4. Add wet ingredients to dry, stirring to combine (but don’t over mix).
5. Heat a large frying pan or griddle over medium heat. Grease pan with a bit of oil or butter (I use a tad of both…butter for flavor, oil because it doesn’t scorch in the pan), and cook pancakes in batches, flipping once when bubbles form and burst on the surface of the cakes.
6. Serve warm, topped with toasted walnuts and maple syrup.

Summer's Last Gasp

2009-10-09T09:31:00.000-07:00

Knowing full-well that fall in Denver could easily mean a foot of snow covering my lawn, we had a guest over alfresco to celebrate the last few days of Colorado summer. I also wanted to share some of my favorite flavors from Chef Eve Aronoff, talented owner of Ann Arbor’s eve.

I wrote a story about Eve for Edible WOW magazine last year, and instantly became smitten with her surprising mix of global flavors and classical French technique, all lavished on the very best of what is seasonal and local. Eve is a lovely person as well; warm, humble, but absolutely driven and meticulous in her craft. She was also a contestant on this season of Bravo’s Top Chef, and though she was eliminated early in the season, the fact that she earned a spot on the show in the first place speaks greatly to her talent.

For this last meal of summer, I served some tasty country-style ribs, rubbed with Eve’s chili mélange (a spice mix) and then braised in a cast iron skillet on the grill (too hot to have the oven on inside). With no time for a grocery run that day, I improvised using only the ingredients in my fridge and pantry, so I rubbed the ribs with the spice mélange, let them sit for a couple of hours, and then used Dr. Pepper and a sliced onion as the braising liquid. That’s right—Dr. Pepper. Don’t knock it till you try it. These ribs turned out tender and spicy-sweet, with minimal effort and expense.

The ribs were served with a simple Caprese salad using tomatoes and basil from the garden. And for dessert, I made Eve’s luscious Pots-de-crème, which is about as velvety and melt-in-your-mouth as chocolate can get. Best of all, each person gets their own portion of Brown Sugar Cream to accompany the cup of chocolate. My husband endearingly describes this dish as “being threatened by chocolate,” which means it’s perfect. It was also gluten-free, as required for our guest that evening. (And hey, if you’re going gluten-free, Pots-de-crème is a hell of a way to go.)

Pots-de-crème
(from Eve: contemporary cuisine- methode traditionelle by Eve Aronoff, 2006, Huron River Press)

(Serves 6)

(Note: the cookbook specifies the brands of chocolate used; I used the same types and percentages of chocolate, but not the same brands)

6 ounces Callebaut semi-sweet chocolate
4 ounces Cuizel 72% dark chocolate
2 ounces El Ray 41% milk chocolate
1 ¾ cup half and half
6 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon instant espresso (The restaurant uses Medaglia d’oro brand; I did too.)
Pinch of kosher salt
7 egg yolks
1 teaspoon vanilla

Brown Sugar Cream (recipe follows)

1. Chop chocolate.
2. Bring half and half and sugar to just below a simmer in a medium, heavy
bottomed saucepan. Add chocolate, and whisk until smooth.
3. Add espresso and kosher salt.
4. Whisk yolks just to combine being careful not to over-mix.
5. Ladle chocolate mix into yolks, beating on low- just to incorporate and being careful not to over-mix.
6. Stir in vanilla.
7. Pour through strainer into pitcher, and divide equally into 6 small cups.
8. Chill until set, about 4 hours.
9. Garnish with a dollop of Brown Sugar Cream and an additional cupful of Brown Sugar Cream on the side so you can alternate bites.

Brown Sugar Cream
(makes 4 cups)

1 pint heavy whipping cream
¼ cup brown sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla
2 tablespoons sour cream

1. Whip cream with whisk in mixing bowl or electric mixer until slightly thickened.
2. Add brown sugar, continue to whip. When still peaks form, add vanilla and sour cream.

Smoke and Mirrors (Fishy Restaurants)

2009-08-29T09:48:00.000-07:00

I just picked up on this interesting article on NPR's health blog. I'm disappointed but not surprised to hear that there are restaurants out there that will switch the expensive fish you ordered (like grouper or red snapper) on the menu with a less expensive species like...wait for it...catfish. Geez.

My take? Eat out at restaurants that you trust and get to know your chef. Pick eateries that have a seasonal, local focus. Your fish many not come from a local source, but chefs that care about where their ingredients come from typically have a high level of culinary ethic and integrity.

Also...Learn To Cook Fish At Home. I know, I know. It's expensive and intimidating. But just try it...do something simple like broiled fillets seasoned with a little olive oil or butter, salt and pepper. Notice texture, subtle flavors and aromas that different fish bring to the table. Get some farm-raised salmon and some wild-caught salmon and compare flavor, color and texture.

I'm not even going to try to delve into the ethics of eating seafood, because it's a totally convoluted nightmare and others like Mark Bittman handle the subject with far more expertise than I. Plus, I'm not one to preach food ethics. As a food writer, I eat good food when I'm out--not necessarily ethical food (ie: veal, fois gras). And as a home cook on a very tight budget I've been known to succumb to bags of frozen shrimp raised on farms in Vietnam rather than the wild caught ones that cost nearly twice as much. So there you go.

But when it comes to restaurants that swap out your order for something of lesser quality, hoping that you just won't notice? For shame, for shame! I guess your mama didn't raise you right.

(photo above: Justin Sullivan / Getty Images)

Plum-Nectarine Buckle (à la Martha)

2009-08-26T08:00:00.000-07:00

There may be no dessert I like more than the buckle. It is perfect for those of us who appreciate the juicy succulence of seasonal fruit, but demand that be delivered to us wrapped in cake and sugary crumb topping. Buckles are the ultimate hybrid for the indecisive—sinful cross-breeds of cobbler and crisp wrapped up in one.

And if you are going to make a buckle, why settle for just one fruit? This Plum-Nectarine Buckle is one of my all time favorites. The sweetness of the nectarines (or peaches, if you prefer) and the tang of red plums compliment one another in the same way that the under-layer of buttery cake gives a harmonious nod to the orange-scented crunchy crumble topping.

This recipe came from one of my many archived back issues of Martha Stewart Living magazine (August 2005). I started collecting them in 1995 when I was fifteen, and though I no longer have a subscription, I always pull out and have handy the issues corresponding to both the current month and the upcoming month. No joke—they are indispensible references for home, kitchen and garden. Don’t judge me. Martha is a goddess as far as I’m concerned. And this buckle is heaven-sent. Enjoy.

Plum-Nectarine Buckle
(Serves 8-10)

6 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted (NOTE: I often cut the butter to 4 tablespoons and then supplement with 3 tablespoons of unsweetened applesauce; especially because I know deep down that I will end up scarfing down four of those “8-10” servings.)
1 ½ cups all-purpose flour
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar
1 ½ teaspoons baking powder
1/8 teaspoon ground allspice
Salt
1 large egg
2/3 cup whole milk
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
¾ pound plums, halved, pitted, and cut into ½ -inch thick wedges (2 cups)
¾ pound nectarines, halved, pitted, and cut into ½ -inch thick wedges (2 cups)
1 tablespoon lemon juice
Crumble Topping (recipe follows)

1. Preheat oven to 350°. Brush a 9-inch square cake pan or 10-inch cast iron skillet with 2 tablespoons melted butter; set aside. Whisk together flour, ¾ cup sugar, the baking powder, allspice, and ¾ teaspoon salt in a medium bowl; set aside.
2. Whisk together egg, milk, vanilla, and remaining 4 tablespoons butter in another medium bowl. Add egg mixture to flour mixture; stir to combine. Spread batter evenly into buttered pan.
3. Toss plums, nectarines, lemon juice, remaining ¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar, and a pinch of salt in a large bowl. Spread fruit mixture evenly over batter. Sprinkle with topping. Bake until a cake tester inserted into center comes out with moist crumbs, about 1 hour and 15 minutes. Let cool in pan on a wire rack 1 hour before serving.

Crumble Topping

6 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
¼ cup packed light brown sugar
¼ teaspoon finely grated orange zest
1 cup all-purpose flour
Pinch of salt

Combine butter, brown sugar and orange zest into bowl of an electric mixer fitted with paddle attachment. Mix on medium speed until creamy. Stir in flour and salt. Work mixture through fingers until it forms coarse crumbs in size from peas to gum balls.

So Damn Lazy Dinner (Fresh Cucumber Ranch Dressing)

2009-08-12T20:33:00.000-07:00

Ah, the joys of high summer. The garden is giving you baskets upon baskets of tomatoes, zucchini, cucumbers and peppers. The farmers markets offer variety seldom found at the grocery store—wax beans, French Breakfast radishes and Ichiban eggplant.

Every year, I either overplant or overbuy summer vegetables…and then there they are, sitting in my fridge, impatiently waiting for me to get on the ball already and prepare them for the dinner plate. I always have good intentions, but then the inevitable happens; plans change, kids divert my energy, and suddenly it’s 6 p.m. and I have no cohesive dinner plan whatsoever. On top of that, it’s hot as hell outside and the thought of turning on the stove is, well, unthinkable.

That, my friends, is where crudités begin to make their appearances at the family dinner table. Screw the pork tenderloin. Screw the pilaf. Just a fresh baguette and a catch-all platter of all the vegetables that need to get eaten pronto….Oh, and a giant glass of chilled Reisling, if you please.

A freshly made dip, like this Cucumber Ranch dressing, comes together fast and makes you feel like you actually made dinner. (The recipe comes from the August 2005 issue of Martha Stewart Living.)

Cucumber Ranch Dressing

(NOTE: I used low-fat sour cream and low-fat mayonnaise to shave off some calories...Still rich, but refreshing.)

1 medium cucumber (peeled, halved lengthwise, seeded, and grated on the large hole of a box grater)
1 Tablespoon finely chopped shallot
¾ cup sour cream
¼ cup low-fat buttermilk
¼ cup mayonnaise
3 ½ Tablespoons lemon juice (about 1 lemon)
1 ¼ Teaspoons salt
Pinch cayenne pepper
3 Tablespoons finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
3 Tablespoons finely chopped fresh chives

Stir all ingredients together in a medium bowl. Season with additional salt or cayenne, if desired. Dressing can be refrigerated in an airtight container for up to 3 days.

Fancy Pants: Golden Beet Caviar with Goat Cheese and Belgian Endive

2009-07-21T07:05:00.000-07:00

Entertaining with beets. Is it possible to serve them to company and not come across as some doily-knitting, Borscht-toting grandma? Yes, yes it is. Enter Golden Beet Caviar with Goat Cheese and Belgian Endive. Sweet, bitter, tangy and creamy. Really good.

This recipe is a variation of one from Deborah Madison’s book, “Local Flavors,” and it is a total guiltless summer treat. I have mentioned in a previous post, and I cannot sing its praises enough. Her recipe is a lovely composed salad that uses three beets; red, golden, and Chioggia (those cute little bi-colored ones that resemble a bulls-eye). I chose to make the recipe more of an hors hors d'oeuvre, and stick to one color beet, since red ones tend to turn the whole lot blood-red as soon as you mix them together. Besides, the golden beets looked great at the farmers market.

As Madison notes in her book, the beet caviar is bright and refreshing, and I took her suggestion to make a batch and just keep it in the fridge. Even after the endive was gone, I was spooning the caviar onto rye crackers and mixed green salads…or straight into my mouth every time I passed through the kitchen.

Golden Beet Caviar with Goat Cheese and Belgian Endive

6 golden beets (though you can use any variety)
1 very small sweet onion, finely diced (I despise raw onions of any other variety—the original recipe calls for red onion, so go with your own tastes here.)
3 Tablespoons white wine vinegar
2 Tablespoons chopped parsley
2 Belgian endives
4 ounces fresh goat cheese
Olive oil

1. Remove leaves and stems, and trim root tips of beets. Steam the beets until they are tender-firm when pierced with a knife, 25-45 minutes, depending on their size. Cool, then slip off the skins. Dice finely by hand—or, alternately, cut into chunks and pulse in a food processor until finely chopped, but not mushy.
2. While beets are cooking, toss the onion in the vinegar and ¼ teaspoon salt, and set aside. Toss the beets with the onion and vinegar. Taste for salt and season with pepper. Toss again with parsley and chill.
3. Slice bottoms from endive and remove cores. Remove leaves individually, wash, and let dry.
4. Assemble: Scoop a spoonful of the beet mixture into each leaf, top with crumbled goat cheese. Garnish with a drizzle of olive oil and serve.

Summer Pizza with Peaches and Prosciutto

2009-07-08T13:20:00.000-07:00

Growing up, Fourth of July picnics in our neighborhood always involved the following:

1. One sacrificial pig: roasted all night long by a troupe of beer-soaked men who saw it as their patriotic duty to stand a drunken vigil as it reached succulent perfection;

2. A festive parade through the subdivision led by “Uncle Sam” waving from the bed of an old pickup truck (with a chintzy beard of cotton balls adhered to his face with Vaseline, he was predictably hung over from his previous night of Pig Duty with the other “Founding Fathers”); and

3. A huge pot-luck picnic by the neighborhood pool.

While the pig was always the centerpiece of the spread, I always saved room on my plate for what I like to call the Pillsbury Housewife Pizzas. You know exactly what I’m talking about here—a base of ready-made crescent roll or sugar cookie dough from the tube, cream cheese mixed with ranch salad dressing powder or powdered sugar, and topped with either salad veggies or mixed summer fruit. Spoon yourself some Suddenly Salad and a dollop of potato salad from the Piggly Wiggly deli counter, and you’ve got yourself a plateful of old school summer picnic magic.

Fast-forward twenty years to my adulthood. While I long for the mustard sauce-doused pork of my youth, I can leave the soggy, saccharine dessert pizzas behind. This Summer Pizza with Peaches and Prosciutto plays on all the elements of a sweet pizza, but stops just short of being a real dessert. Gorgonzola cheese is the creamy, piquant counter to ripe peaches. Fresh basil and mint lend a bright herbal flavor, and prosciutto and a little brown sugar perpetuate my favorite combination of salty and sweet.

If you’re drinking (and why shouldn’t you be?), try this pizza with a chilled Rosé or a yeasty, spicy, unfiltered Belgian wheat beer.

Ingredients
Prepared pizza dough, your favorite recipe (Note: I like to use the pizza dough recipe from the Joy of Cooking, which makes enough dough for two pizzas)
2 small to medium-sized ripe peaches, chopped
6 tablespoons crumbled Gorgonzola cheese
5 thin slices Prosciutto
5 basil leaves
8 mint leaves
2 tablespoons brown sugar
cornmeal for dusting
olive oil

1. Preheat oven to 475° F. If using a pizza stone (recommended), preheat it in the oven as well.

2. When oven and stone are preheated, stretch and shape pizza dough on a floured surface. Sprinkle pizza stone/baking sheet with cornmeal, and transfer the dough to the stone. Brush crust lightly with olive oil. Par-bake for approx. 5-7 minutes, or until crust is just barely starting to show signs of browning.

3. While crust par-bakes, lay slices of prosciutto in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Cook briefly, just long enough to brown it gently, about 2-3 min. on each side. Transfer to a paper towel-covered plate. Prosciutto will crisp up as it cools. Once cool, break prosciutto into small pieces/strips.

4. Once par-baked, remove pizza from oven. Sprinkle on brown sugar, then peaches, prosciutto and Gorgonzola cheese. Place back in the oven and bake for 5-7 minutes more, or until the cheese has melted and the crust has browned nicely. (Peaches will be heated through and perhaps a tad browned, but not broken down.)

5. Remove pizza from the oven. Allow to cool for 3-5 minutes, top with a chiffonade of basil and mint. Slice and serve.

Denver

2009-05-30T10:46:00.000-07:00

Last week, while my husband sweated out 4 days of interviewing with a Denver architecture firm, I roamed the city on my own, exploring the culinary terrain (not to mention a few dozen apartments and rental houses). Denver seems to be a growing food city, and I found some quality eats that I just had to share with you.

Snooze: This kitschy-cool diner specializes in breakfast. They do it right—while some joints have a morning menu that reads like a novel, Snooze takes the high road with a smaller menu of expertly prepared dishes, particularly their pancakes and Benedicts (categorized on the menu under “The Art of Hollandaise”). It was so good, I ate there twice. The pancake selection is tempting, and so they offer a Pancake Flight—a choice of any three pancakes—to satisfy those of us with a fear of commitment. I chose the Chocolate Cherry Pancake (chock full of semi-sweet Ghirardelli chips and covered with sour cherry sauce and drizzled melted chocolate), the Sweet Potato Pancake (with a bourbon-caramel glaze and toasted pecans), and my favorite, the Pineapple Upside Down Pancake (embedded with fresh, caramelized pineapple and drizzled with homemade crème anglaise). We also had the Ham Benedict III, which was a savory indulgence. Snooze makes their English muffins from scratch, does a mean smoked cheddar hollandaise sauce, and the soft-poached eggs were gathered from a local purveyor.

Moe’s Original Barbeque: It’s pretty simple, really—great pulled pork, beer specials and four lanes for bowling. We ate for under thirteen bucks apiece (including a beer), and our platters included from-scratch jalepeno cornbread and two sides. It was a little southern trashy, and a little Lebowski—in other words, a perfect date.

Pho 79: We definitely ventured into what some would consider “the wrong side of the tracks” for this dinner, but it was worth it. We enjoyed a refreshing appetizer of shrimp and chicken summer rolls, followed by monstrous bowls of Phở (a Vietnamese beef and noodle soup), chock full of rare steak, brisket and finely chopped tripe. Pho 79 is light on cost, but heavy on the condiments—we received a heaping platter of bean sprouts, Thai basil, lime wedges, sliced hot peppers and sauces to adorn our steaming soup. We slurped hot tea and our noodles as the Vietnamese waiters improved their English by staying glued to Wheel of Fortune blaring on the dining room television (which was perched right above the rickshaw- Classic!) (Post-relocation note: We have moved on from Pho 79. Now it's Pho 95 all the way. Both are on South Federal, where you could pretty much blindfold yourself, spin around 10 times, take ten paces and wind up a Vietnamese restaurant. Overall, I think that Pho 95 has a richer broth and was more consistent in quality from visit to visit.)

Lucile’s Creole Café: This lovely little eatery is nestled near the Washington Park neighborhood of Denver, but it might as well be a block off of Bourbon Street. With hot beignets, chicory coffee and dishes like the ever-indulgent Eggs Sardou, it reminded me of a breakfast I enjoyed in New Orleans years ago (one that admittedly followed what I barely recall as "The Night of a Dozen Hurricanes"). Lucile’s serves breakfast and lunch, and aims for authenticity, from the Crawfish Etouffee to the homemade condiments (a kickin’ ketchup, strawberry jam and apple butter). Some dishes are executed better than others--the shrimp on the Eggs Sardou were very small and poorly seasoned--but overall Lucile's did not disappoint, and the crowd of weekend diners waiting for a table on the front porch suggests that this is one of the city's hot spots.

I also think that a meal at Lucile’s might also bring good luck, because an hour after we ate our breakfast there, I found our new home—a cute little postage stamp of a house just a few blocks away. Emmett was offered the job on Friday, and we signed the lease to the rental on Saturday morning before hopping a flight back to Michigan. The house itself is small, but it has a huge kitchen and a garden in the back yard.

Now we have a big move upon us--from Ann Arbor to the Mile High City. And I can’t wait. There is more to come, as The Hungry Masses relocates to Denver, Colorado.

Arugula and Mint Pesto wtih Spicy Seared Shrimp

2009-05-04T10:49:00.000-07:00

Every summer I grow and buy copious amounts of basil for pesto, making batches every other weekend or so, and then freezing it for the year ahead. Bright and lemony, with plenty of garlic and toasted pine nuts, pesto is like a magic elixir during the wintertime, and it refreshes the palate after one too many hearty stews or braises. My homemade basil pesto (which I freeze in individual portions in ice cube trays) tops tilapia, minestrone soup, dresses up roasted vegetables and coats spaghetti all year long.

But alas, I ran out early this year, and I just couldn’t bring myself to buy clutches of fresh basil from the grocery store; it’s highway robbery! So I came up with an alternative from ingredients already in my fridge—arugula and mint pesto, which I tossed with mini farfalle pasta and spicy seared shrimp. Baby arugula was used here—that’s what I had on hand—but I would recommend using more mature arugula leaves if you appreciate a more peppery bite. Toasted walnuts provide an unexpected velvety creaminess and depth of flavor that give pine nuts a run for their money. This pesto would also work very well with lamb chops or a simply seasoned pork tenderloin.

Arugula and Mint Pesto

1 cup packed arugula leaves (if using mature arugula, remove stems)
1 cup packed mint leaves
¾ cup chopped walnuts
2 cloves garlic
Juice of 1 ½ to 2 lemons (this depends on your taste; I tend to err on the side of more lemon, rather than less)
3 T finely grated parmesan cheese
½ cup extra virgin olive oil, plus more as needed or desired
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper

1. In a sauté pan, toast the walnuts over medium heat, tossing frequently to prevent scorching. Nuts are done when they are lightly browned and fragrant.
2. Toss warm nuts, ½ cup olive oil, arugula, mint, garlic, cheese, and juice of 1 ½ lemons into a blender or food processor. (NOTE: I use a blender and find it helpful to pour in the olive oil and lemon juice first, so it facilitates blending of the other ingredients). Blend ingredients until smooth. Add more olive oil and/or lemon juice in order to reach desired consistency and flavor. Add salt and pepper to suit taste (if you use mature arugula, you’ll likely need less pepper).
3. Freeze or use immediately on your favorite pasta.

Spicy Seared Shrimp

In a bowl, combine peeled and deveined raw shrimp with a sprinkling of sea salt, a few grinds of black pepper, and a shake or two of crushed red pepper flakes. Heat a sauté pan over high heat. Add 1-2 tsp of olive oil into hot pan, add shrimp and allow them to cook for about 1 minute or so on each side. The key to perfectly cooked shrimp with a nice crusty sear is simple:

1. A HOT pan…super hot. Don’t be afraid.
2. Don’t crowd your pan with shrimp; work in batches so that any released liquid quickly evaporates. Accumulated liquid steams your shrimp, and you lose any hope of that nice crusty sear (I only fit about 6 large shrimp in my 12 inch pan at a time).
3. Turn them only ONCE! (Mom)
4. Do not overcook! (Again, Mom) As soon as those puppies lose their translucence, get them off the pan!

Mexicantown Tamales and Tomatillo Sauce

2009-04-23T19:46:00.000-07:00

I have Detroit's Mexicantown Bakery and their tasty tamales to thank for my most recent family meal worth mentioning. The Bakery sells big bags of the steaming hot bundles, some filled with shredded and seasoned pork, others filled with jalapeño peppers and cheese. (Mexicantown Bakery is also one of those all-around fun stops to make when you are in Detroit. Click here to see Kitchen Chick’s post on the tasty little bodega) The tamales are quite good, and they freeze well. Draped in a tangy homemade tomatillo sauce and served alongside a cool jicama and orange salad, it all made for a perfect springtime meal.

Tomatillo Sauce (based on a recipe by Mario Batali)

2 pounds husked tomatillos
5 cloves garlic
2 serrano chiles, stems removed
Juice of 2 limes
Small bunch of cilantro
Salt (about 2 ½ tsp when it was all said and done)

1. Drop tomatillos, garlic and chiles (all whole) into boiling water and cook for 2-3 minutes.

2. Drain and plop it all into the blender or food processor while still warm (NOTE: you may want to do this in batches so as not to cause a steamy explosion in your kitchen). Blend the mixture together with the lime juice and cilantro until smooth.

3. Place the mixture into a medium saucepan and simmer over medium-low heat for 30 minutes. Season with salt; the mixture will thicken and reduce slightly.

Salad
1 jicama, peeled and chopped into ¾ inch cubes or sticks
2 navel oranges, skins removed and cut into large dice
2 avocados, large dice
Juice of 1 orange and one lime
Salt
Slightest pinch of cayenne pepper

Let’s not get too technical with this: just combine to suit your taste and eat!

Chicago

2009-04-15T09:02:00.000-07:00

Recently, we spent a very chilly weekend in Chicago, hanging out with old and dear friends and exploring the neighborhoods of the city’s north side. Here are the culinary highlights of the weekend.

Lunch on Friday was enjoyed at Cozy Noodle & Rice, a quirky Thai café in the Lakeview/Wrigleyville neighborhood. It is the kind of place that thrifty people like me are always hoping to find—a snug little spot with plenty of character and delicious, cheap food. Decorated from ceiling to floor with toy robots, vintage trinkets and Route 66 signs (yet not omitting the obligatory waving Lucky Cat statue…do Asians just emerge from the womb grasping these things in their little hands?), Cozy provided the perfect refuge from the city’s below-freezing wind chill. (Note Below: The PEZ motif in the restroom of Cozy Noodle and Rice)

My friend, Sarah, and I ordered off of the lunch specials menu: Pad Thai and Pad Woon Sen. Both were tasty, plentiful of portion, and at $4.99 each they still came with a choice of spring roll, baby egg roll or cucumber salad. I also ordered a bowl of spicy Tom Kar, a coconut soup flavored with galangal and lime and packed with straw mushrooms, tomatoes and other vegetables.

After walking off our lunch, we set out on what is apparently Sarah’s ongoing quest to find the city’s best cupcakes (Note: I deeply respect someone who would take on such a noble quest). Although we tried an offering from the homey Swedish Bakery in Andersonville, the clear cupcake winner of the day was Swirlz in Lincoln Park. They do it rich—copious amounts of butter in both the cake and the not-so-sweet frosting. Are they the best I’ve ever had? No. I like my frosting with a little less butter and a little more sugar. I also prefer a lighter crumb to my cake. But with flavors like Banana Nutella and Bittersweet Chocolate (chocolate cake with a layer of ganache peeking out from underneath the chocolate buttercream frosting), they were almost worth the $3.50 per cupcake price tag.

The next day we went exploring again, perusing Roscoe Village, Lincoln Square, Lakeview and Evanston, this time with our husbands in tow. We enjoyed a predictably unremarkable lunch at an Evanston Irish pub, but really lived it up on Saturday night for dinner at Otom in the Warehouse/meatpacking District.

Otom is the sister restaurant (and next door neighbor) of Moto, which is the place for experimental cuisine in Chicago at the moment. Otom’s menu places a fun spin on traditional comfort foods—no anti-griddles or a test tubes here. But it was a great experience; the waiters were attentive and charming, and the food was rich without being over the top. Among the culinary standouts: truffled macaroni and cheese, oxtail stew, and the pork chop, which was served with bacon-sage dumplings, tangy red cabbage and apples. Dessert was also nodworthy—flourless chocolate cake garnished with candied hazelnuts and crispy fried tarragon leaves with a blood orange sorbet. The dessert, along with the pork chop dish, both had the right mix of components on the plate (flavors and textures) that would allow for that perfect bite.

It was a great weekend—many thanks to Mike and Sarah for their hospitality and stellar company.

Brussels Sprouts: Mmmm, Good.

2009-03-17T12:18:00.000-07:00

Brussels sprouts may not be on the top of your list when it comes to vegetables. In “Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs,” one of my favorite books from childhood, the people of the land of Chew and Swallow lost their appetites when overcooked broccoli and Brussels sprouts rained down from the sky. What a pity.

It’s too bad that these little guys have been villainized so, the item your mom made you eat (fingers pinching your nose) to earn your dessert. Brussels sprouts are cute—the ultimate petit chou—and once you learn to cook them properly (ie: not boiled or steamed like your mother used to make ‘em) they will become the most surprising vegetable to grace your table. Promise.

This recipe for Shaved Brussels Sprout and Shallot Sauté has been tested in the presence of picky kids and adults who swore up and down that they’d never like it—and then promptly polished off the entire panful. Adapted from a recipe in Bon Appétit magazine, the addition of golden raisins adds an unexpected sweetness that’s just right.

Shaved Brussels Sprout and Shallot Sauté

• 1 3/4 pounds brussels sprouts, outer leaves removed and bottoms trimmed off
• 2 tablespoons butter
• 3 tablespoons olive oil
• 12 medium shallots, thinly sliced (about 2 cups) –or- 1 large, thinly sliced sweet
onion if you want to save a few bucks.
• 6 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
• 4 tablespoons pine nuts, toasted, divided
• 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
• 1/3 cup golden raisins

Preparation

1. Working in small batches, place Brussels sprouts in feed tube of processor fitted with thin slicing disk; slice. (I may be the only schmuck I know who still doesn’t own a food processor. Slicing these thinly with a chef’s knife works just fine too.)

2. Melt butter with olive oil in large pot over medium heat. Add shallots; sauté until almost translucent, about 3 minutes. Add garlic; stir 1 minute. Add Brussels sprouts; increase heat to medium-high and sauté until tender, about 8 minutes. Stir in 3 tablespoons pine nuts, raisins and lemon juice. Season with salt and pepper. Transfer to bowl. Sprinkle with remaining 1 tablespoon pine nuts and serve.

Blueberry Barbecue Sauce (More with Locavorious)

2009-02-09T11:16:00.000-08:00

Freezing summer fruit and berries is a great way to add flavor and nutrition to your diet during the winter months. I found this recipe for Blueberry Barbecue Sauce in Food & Wine magazine while searching for a savory use for last summer’s blueberries (preserved at their peak thanks to Ann Arbor's Locavorious). Not a whole lot of heat, but plenty of flavor. It turned out great—I served it to a bunch of friends for a Southern Style Sunday dinner of pulled pork sandwiches, coleslaw and sweet tea. Finger-lickin’ good, y’all.

Farfalle with Ricotta, Edamame and Prosciutto (Locavorious!)

2009-02-02T08:54:00.000-08:00

Rena Basch is onto something. Locavorious, her frozen food CSA based in Ann Arbor, Michigan, has hit the ground running, providing locals with tasty summertime edibles during the time of year when most of us are getting desperate, aching for a departure from potatoes and winter squashes. Members receive shares for the months of November through February—summer berries, peaches, broccoli, cauliflower, tomatoes and corn just to name a few—each food harvested at its peak and then packaged for frozen preservation.

Edamame is one of the tasty vegetables featured in the Locavorious repertoire. High in fiber and protein, this variety of soybean has plenty to offer in the nutritional department—not to mention the color and texture they add to a dish.

The Japanese like boil the pods whole in salted water and serve them as a snack or side. In this recipe, prosciutto provides a nice salty flavor which compliments both the edamame and the shrimp.

Farfalle with Ricotta, Edamame and Prosciutto

One pound box farfalle (bowtie) pasta, uncooked
15 oz ricotta cheese
1 ½ cups shelled edamame
¼ cup freshly grated parmesan cheese
One small sweet onion, diced
Two cloves garlic, minced
1/8 tsp red pepper flakes (more or less to taste)
3 T extra virgin olive oil
3 oz. prosciutto, thinly sliced and cut into strips
1 pound shrimp, peeled and deveined
Salt and pepper

1. Begin the pasta: Heat a large pot of lightly salted water over high heat.

2. While water comes to a boil, combine ricotta and parmesan in a large serving bowl. Set aside.

3. Heat a large sauté pan over medium-high heat. Add prosciutto to the pan and cook until slightly crispy. Remove prosciutto from pan and set aside.

4. Reduce heat to medium, add olive oil. Sauté garlic, onion and red pepper flakes for 5 minutes, stirring frequently; onions should become translucent.

5. By this time water should be boiling; add pasta to pot and cook. Meanwhile, add shrimp to the onions. Cook shrimp on both sides until they are just cooked through (bright pink, no longer translucent). Remove pan from heat and cover to keep warm. When pasta is very al dente (has lots of bite, about one minute from being perfectly cooked), add edamame into the pot along with the pasta. Bring water back to boil (about one minute more), then drain pasta and edamame.

6. Pour pasta and edamame into large serving bowl; stir to combine with cheese mixture. Add shrimp mixture, stir gently to combine.

7. Serve pasta garnished with prosciutto.

Snacks

2009-01-30T18:08:00.001-08:00

Look, I can see the writing on the walls. (Actually, the truth is that I can see the muffin top above my jeans.) It's easy to hide under those snow bibs now, but spring is coming, and so it's time to get serious about a plan to avoid embarrassment (come my high school reunion).

I get the distinct feeling that I am not alone here. So here's a shout-out to all the winter-weary mamas coming to terms with the fact that they've accumulated a little extra pudding under the skin this year.

If you are the type that craves salty-sweet, you can avoid a dietary shame spiral (Fritos dipped in Nutella?) with this snack. You will like it. You will feel classy eating it...well, classier than the Frito/Nutella option, anyhow.

Proscuitto 1.8 oz (4 slices): 100 Calories, 6 g Fat, 0 g Fiber (2.5 WW Points)
Cantaloupe 4.7 oz (1/2 cup): 46 Calories, 0.3 g Fat, 1.2 g Fiber (0.7 WW Points)
Total: 146 Calories, 6.3 g Fat, 1.2 g Fiber (3.2 WW Points)

Celebrating Change

2009-01-21T20:03:00.000-08:00

Inauguration Day was quite an event, yes? No matter which guy (or gal) you voted for, you can't deny the excitement that surrounded this past Tuesday. And I can't deny that I'll find any reason to justify a party. So to celebrate this historic presidency, we got together with a few of our neighbors for hors d'oeuvres, drinks and an encore of the inaugural address on the TiVo.

The eight us sophisticated adults waxed philosophical about change, history and the years ahead over mini Moroccan lamb burgers, endive with Roquefort and walnuts, shots of creamy wild mushroom soup, and prosciutto-wrapped melon. Our six children (most of them under 6 years old) ran around like the heathens they are, occasionally chanting, "Yes we can!" at the top of their lungs, but mostly whining and arguing over Legos.

Despite the distractions, we all had a great time. For dessert we indulged in cups of Obama Blend coffee and Galette des Rois, a French pastry cake traditionally served on the day of Epiphany. But the dessert--most typically associated with the New Year--still seemed fitting. After a few sips of champagne and a peek of the new First Lady in her ball gown, we packed up our worn-out kids and we called it a night. Good times, good friends, good food...Good luck, Mr. President!

Inspiration for a Chilly World

2009-01-11T19:59:00.000-08:00

It’s that time of year again—that magical time when seed catalogs start appearing in mailboxes everywhere, sporting page after page of jewel-toned produce splayed out in all its glory. It’s almost like a little veggie burlesque show, really—sugar snap peas with their pods bursting open, tomatoes glistening with morning dew…and don’t get me started on the melons. But I digress…

It’s also the time of year when foodies like me (with barely a lick of gardening sense) are tempted to just start buying up a dozen or so seed packets of whatever they wish they were eating right now—my current cravings include fava beans, and New Orchid (orange flesh) watermelon. For me at least, making a wish list of recipes I want to make sure grace my summer table this year is far more productive than going crazy with an online order to Johnny’s.

Finding culinary inspiration for the New Year is easy in Local Flavors by Debora Madison. It is a well-rounded cookbook that highlights the bounty of the farm market. Filled with stories of Madison’s experiences at markets across the country, it includes the kind of recipes that will make you clamor for warm, sun-saturated tomatoes and sweet corn—for example, her recipes for Chilled Sun Gold Tomato Soup or Warm Corn Custard with Berries.

Cookbooks like Local Flavors are great for people who participate in CSA’s and find themselves wondering, “What the hell am I supposed to do with all this kohlrabi?” Better yet, many of the recipes utilize several veggies together to make coherent dishes, which helps keep your palate from getting bored when certain items are in abundance. I picked up the book last summer and fell into the trappings of Madison’s recipes for summer fruit desserts like Plum Kuchen and Apricot-Cherry Crisp. This year I vow to be more nutritionally diplomatic.

Madison also takes care to include winter fruits like citrus and subtropicals, as well as recipes using farm-fresh eggs and cheeses. And given the general year-round availability of many fruits and vegetables, there are plenty of recipes that are relevant to your kitchen no matter how much snow is piling up in your driveway. (This afternoon, it was heaven take a break from building an igloo in our backyard to pop a handful of Florida strawberries. I didn’t care at all that they traveled a thousand miles before reaching my doorstep—and you know what? They were pretty tasty!)

Hot Damn!!

2009-01-07T19:01:00.000-08:00

Tonight I am thankful for:

Wednesday Night Special on made-to-order, ooey-gooey pizza from Whole Foods. 16" of lovely mushroom pizza for $8.99. It's about the only reason I'll walk into Whole Foods given my urge to splurge on food items outside of our budget. Although I must admit that I left the store with hot pizza in hand and a six-pack of Dark Horse Brewing Company's Reserve Special Black Bier Ale-see what I mean about the urge to splurge?

It got me wondering...What is your weakness- the item(s) you are most likely to toss into your grocery basket that you had no intention of buying when you walked into the store? Chocolate? Booze? Lucky Charms? Just curious...

Winter Insulation

2008-12-16T10:51:00.000-08:00

Can you believe that this gorgeous thing came from my own little oven?! I hardly can. And when I brought two loaves to a Thanksgiving gathering last month, it was mistaken for Zingerman’s bread. I’ll take that as a sign of success; my first after a long history of stumpy, leaden loaves that cost me hours of patience with minimal reward. I know many of you must feel the same about slaving in the kitchen to produce home baked bread—after all, that’s how Zingerman’s, Panera, and all the others stay in business!

While reporting on a story for Edible WOW magazine, I became acquainted with fellow Ann Arbor foodie Jeff McCabe. Not only was I treated to a fabulous sampling of his home-cured charcuterie, he also shared with me a ridiculously simple method of baking bread. No kneading required. No fancy equipment. No meticulous supervision translating into hours standing vigil by a bowl of dough.

This method is no secret, really. The New York Times did an article about the No Knead Dutch Oven method in 2006. So maybe I’m behind the curve—I don’t care—it’s worth admitting because this bread is just so damn good. It’s got that perfectly browned, hard crust, plenty of air in the crumb, and a lovely flavor that deceives the taster into thinking some kind of starter must have been involved.

Several factors come together to make this bread what it is. First, the time line between mixing the dough and eating a hot slice is nearly 24 hours, so there is plenty of time for the dough to proof, developing a richer flavor than anything a three-hour cycle in your bread machine could ever produce.

Second, the bread is baked in a very hot oven, inside a pre-heated cast iron Dutch oven with a lid for the first thirty minutes of baking time. Contained in the Dutch oven, steam creates that desirable crust; the calling card of artisan breads.

Third, this bread rocks because the time line is perfect for someone that has a life outside of their kitchen. Also, there are several similar recipes out there, containing various flours, beer, vinegar, etc. After testing several, this one topped my list because there are only four ingredients; flour, salt, yeast, water. So if you have the hankering, these ingredients are (almost) certain to be on hand, requiring no advanced planning.

Now is the perfect time for home-baked bread. Picture it with pots of soup, simply roasted vegetables, winter salads, or sopping up the rich, winey sauce of a good bœuf bourguignon. But seriously—don’t just picture it—make it.

No Knead Bread (recipe taken from NY Times, November 2006)

3 cups flour (plus more for dusting)
¼ tsp yeast
1 ¼ tsp salt
1 ½ cups water

Cornmeal or wheat bran for dusting (I use cornmeal)
1. In a large bowl, combine flour, yeast and salt.
2. Add water, stir until blended. The dough will be shaggy and very sticky—way too
sticky to handle.
3. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap. Let dough rest for 12-18 hours at room
temperature.
4. After 12-18 hours, the dough’s surface will be dotted with bubbles and look
quite wet. Lightly flour a work surface and turn out dough onto surface. Gently
shape dough into a ball (Tip: fold it over a few times to make this shape,
rather than rolling it or kneading it into a ball). Generously coat a cotton
dishtowel with flour or cornmeal (I like to use a bit of both) and place dough
seam-side down on the towel. Dust again and cover with another towel. Let rise
for another 2 hours (Dough will grow to double in size and firm up)
5. ½ hour before baking, preheat oven to 475° F. Heat Dutch oven in the oven as it preheats, then carefully remove. Carefully place dough in pot, seam-side up.
Jiggle pan to distribute dough if needed. Bake 30 minutes with the lid on, then remove lid and bake another 15-30 minutes until done and browned. Turn out onto rack to cool.

Alone. Pregnant. Starving. Kimchi.

2008-11-19T13:33:00.000-08:00

We had open campus lunches at my high school back in Columbia, South Carolina. When my friends insisted on going to Burger King for the hundredth time, I’d take off in my crappy little Ford Tempo and drive around the corner to the O-bok, a Korean joint that looked more like a Laundromat from the outside than a restaurant. I always ordered their kimchi pancake. Cheap, hot, crispy on the outside, and filled with tangy, spicy kimchi on the inside—it was the perfect meal to eat quickly while studying for next period’s French test.

These pancakes are so darn good, totally comfort food, and an excellent dish to break someone in gently to Korean food. (In pancake form, the kimchi isn’t nearly as spicy or potent as when eaten straight.)

Years later, I learned that you can just make these guys at home, so long as your home is in reasonable proximity to an Asian grocery store. Tonight, with a husband away, a child asleep, and a growing belly demanding all sorts of crazy things, the kimchi pancake made a long overdue appearance on my dinner plate. It was consumed with joy and soy (sauce) while watching Iron Chef America.

Kimchi Pancake for One

½ cup Korean pancake mix
½ cup water
1 egg (optional)
¾ cup to 1 cup kimchi, chopped, juice reserved
Chopped green onion
Vegetable oil for pan frying

1. Heat a skillet to medium-high heat.
2. While skillet is heating, chop kimchi and reserve juices
3. Combine in a bowl: pancake mix, water, egg, kimchi and juice. Stir until well
combined.
4. Heat oil (1-2 Tbs should do it) in skillet, then dump pancake mixture into the
pan, allowing it to spread across the entire bottom.
5. Fry until well browned, flip and fry again until browned.
6. Plate the pancake and serve with soy sauce. (Eat with knife and fork, or cut
into squares and eat with chopsticks.)

Gee, I Sure Love...

2008-11-16T16:15:00.000-08:00

Tantre Farms' giant bag of mixed baby salad greens. The best salad I've ever had, with a nice mix of spicy, bitter, and sweet leaves of at least 6 different varieties. Why no picture? Because we ate it all, that's why.

And Tantre's French Breakfast Radishes with butter and salt. Snow is falling outside my window. It's dark, and cold enough now for the snow to stick to everything, even my sidewalk.But my kitchen is warm, and my plate is (was) full of verdant, fresh vegetables that leave my family happy and well-fed. Cheers!

Early Fall Raspberry Tart

2008-09-17T17:54:00.000-07:00

I sure do enjoy our Lady Food Blogger Parties! This time around we grilled pizza, sipped cold drinks under a backyard tent and listened to the musical stylings of a local high school band as they practiced across the street. There were many delicious treats, but being pregnant, I stereotypically zeroed in on Cindy’s homemade dill pickles. I ate three, and could have eaten three more.

Below is the recipe for the Early Fall Raspberry Tart- my humble contribution to the evening. Regrettably, I forgot to take a picture before it hit the serving table. It disappeared quickly…a good sign.

1 sheet frozen puff pastry (one box), thawed
8 ounces Mascarpone Cheese
8 ounces (give or take) Lemon Curd- recipe follows
2 T powdered sugar
1 egg yolk, beaten
2 T milk or cream
2 pints raspberries

Prepare Puff Pastry Crust
1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. On a lightly floured work surface, roll out pastry sheet (still folded) to an 8-by-14-inch rectangle. Use a sharp paring knife to score a 3/4-inch border around pastry (do not cut all the way through). Carefully transfer pastry to a parchment lined baking sheet.

NOTE: Alternately, you can create a more narrow tart with a higher border by trimming ¾ inch all the way around, then replacing the strips on the outer edge of the rectangle (trim to fit), building up a higher edge. Just make sure that you carefully brush the outer edge of the pastry before pressing on the strips—that will help glue the strips to the base of your tart and it makes for a more formal presentation.

2. Avoiding the ¾ inch perimeter, pierce the pastry all over with a fork. Combine egg yolk and milk/cream, and then carefully brush over the pastry. Avoid letting any egg wash touch the parchment or baking sheet- it will glue your pastry to it and make it more difficult to move later.
3. Bake for 15-20 minutes until browned and puffy. Midway through baking, use the back of a spatula to press down on the middle of the tart, deflating it a bit so that it doesn’t rise nearly as much as the outer edges. Once pastry is done, remove from oven, deflate the middle again, let cool 5 minutes, and move tart shell to a wire rack to cool completely.

Filling
While tart shell is cooling, combine Mascarpone cheese, lemon curd and powdered sugar, stirring until smooth. Use more or less lemon curd to suit your taste. Refrigerate until you are ready to fill your tart.

Assemble
1. Once tart is completely cooled and you are nearly ready to serve the tart, place tart shell on your serving platter.
2. Use an offset spatula to spread filling into the middle of the tart.
3. Cover the middle with raspberries; you can pile them in, creating a more rustic look, or arrange them neatly in rows for a more classic French effect.
4. Get your piece first before your guests devour it all.

Lemon Curd
I’m not going to give you the impression that I always make lemon curd from scratch. Dickenson’s brand Lemon Curd is just fine if you can find it (in the jam and jelly aisle alongside the other Dickenson’s jams). Last time I needed it, however, Kroger only had some other imported brand that was $8.99 for a jar. Hell no. I used Martha Stewart’s recipe for lemon curd instead. It is crazy good, and honestly only took about 20 minutes to make.

Lazy Sunday

2008-09-04T18:00:00.000-07:00

There are times when one just needs something rich, sweet, and comforting. There are also times when one is suddenly gifted with a dozen perfect croissants from Ann Arbor’s Croissant Shop. They are crisp. They are fragrant. They melt in your mouth. Two or three can be consumed more quickly than one would like to admit.

What to do with the remaining pastries to avoid plummeting into a complete shame spiral? The answer: freeze them, and then turn them into Baked Croissant French Toast the next time you have friends over for brunch. Puffy, golden, delicious. Have yourself a hearty portion- with no regrets.

•6-8 plain croissants, cut in half lengthwise
•6 eggs
•1 1/2 cups whole milk
•1 1/2 cups half-and-half
•1/4 teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg
•1 teaspoon vanilla
•2 tablespoons Grand Marnier
•1 orange, zest of
•1/4 cup packed brown sugar
•1/2 cup white sugar
•1 pinch salt

1. Butter a 9 by 13-inch baking dish. Arrange the croissant halves in the baking dish. In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk, half-and-half, nutmeg, vanilla, Grand Marnier, orange zest, 1/4 cup brown sugar, white sugar and salt. Pour this mixture over the croissants. Cover the baking dish and chill until all of the liquid is absorbed, at least 2 hours or overnight.

2. Bake in a 400 degree oven for 20 minutes or until puffy, golden brown, and set in the middle.

3. Serve with: warm maple syrup, homemade preserves (I used my own blueberry-lime jam), or a dusting of powdered sugar and a squirt from a lemon wedge.

Thoreau-Up

2008-08-13T07:12:00.000-07:00

Why did I ever think that a calorie free, fat free marshmallow dip would taste good?

Because I’m a sucker, that’s why.

The cheesy brand name alone should have sounded alarm bells in my head—Walden Farms??!! As if this dip would provide the consumer with some sort of bucolic, poetic transcendental experience.

Needless to say, it was horrible- thin, gummy, mostly flavorless on the front and with a unidentifiable chemical aftertaste. Walden Farms also makes fat free, calorie free “creamy peanut spread”—pair that with the “marshmallow dip” and you can have yourself the worst Fluffernutter conceivable.

So ok- I want to drop a couple pounds…but not like this…NOT LIKE THIS!!!
A question for the blogosphere: What horrible diet foods have you tried in the noble pursuit of less junk in the trunk?

Empty Your Veggie Drawer

2008-07-30T08:08:00.000-07:00

We have a bountiful supply of vegetables from our CSA this time of year, and so it was very cool to get wind of this recipe for Quinoa Risotto that Project Fresh gave out this season. (Project Fresh is an income-based program that provides participants with vouchers for locally grown fresh fruits and vegetables at participating farmer's markets. They also educate families on how to store and prepare fresh vegetables in order to encourage increased consumption.)

This is a two pot/pan dish, helps you get rid of a LOT of veggies in one fell swoop, and encourages improvisation.

(NOTE: Quinoa is a powerhouse of a food. Though not technically a grain, it’s cooked the same as you would rice, but it provides much more fiber. It contains the right combination of essential amino acids that makes it a complete protein, and also contains a substantial amount of calcium.)

Quinoa Risotto (makes 2 giant meals or 4 large side-dish portions)

1 cup dry quinoa
1 ½ cups water

4-5 cups chicken broth (give or take, because that’s how risotto works)
2 T olive oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 cup diced sweet onion (about 1 medium sized)
1 teaspoon red pepper flakes
1 lb. veggies of your choice (pictured here, I used 8 oz. halved and seeded grape tomatoes, and about a pound of chopped mustard greens and Swiss chard)
1-2 T fresh herbs of your choice (Basil used here)
Salt and pepper to taste
Two palmfuls grated Parmesan cheese

For the Quinoa:
1. Rinse off the quinoa and drain in a fine-meshed strainer. Combine quinoa and water in a medium to large pot. Bring to a boil, then lower heat, cover and simmer for 15 minutes.
2. Bring heat back up to medium-high. Add chicken broth, ½ cup at a time, stirring. All broth must be fully absorbed before the next cup is added. Continue in this pattern until the quinoa is fully cooked, tender, but still springy, and has a nice, thickened “sauce” about it. Add more broth if necessary.
3. Cover, keep warm.

For the Vegetables:
1. In a large, deep skillet, heat olive oil over medium-high heat. Add garlic, onions, and red pepper flakes, and sauté until onions are soft, translucent, and just beginning to brown.
2. Add remaining vegetables and sauté until cooked. (NOTE: if you cooking greens, add them last. Turn your heat up to high before adding them—the trick here is to cook them fast so that their liquids evaporate. You don’t want a juicy mess with your veggies.
3. Add the quinoa to the veggies, throw in the Parmesan cheese, stir, and season with salt and pepper.

Other combinations to try:
- thinly sliced cabbage, chopped red bell pepper, greens
- zucchini, eggplant, cherry tomatoes, basil
- roasted butternut squash, fresh thyme, lots of sweet onion
- toss in other cheeses like cubed mozzarella or goat cheese
- add ½ cup red or white wine into the quinoa/broth process

Homecoming, Part Deux

2008-07-28T12:08:00.000-07:00

It’s been a month since the trip back home to SC, but since I posted a “Part One,” I thought it best to make good on the implication of more Carolina goodness. Well, y’all, here it is.

Tasting the "New" South

(Cornmeal Fried Green Tomatoes)

The first outing of the vacation was an excellent dinner at a well-known Columbia spot, Mr.Friendly’s New Southern Café. Located in the Five Points neighborhood near the University of South Carolina, Mr. Friendly’s was the place to go on a nice date when I was in college—as opposed to the Pita Pit across the street.

(Needless to say, none of my romantic interests ever took me to Mr. Friendly’s.)

What does New Southern cuisine mean? Well, as far as I can tell, it means tasty Southern staples, prettied up on your plate with a garnish of micro-greens…the general idea being for you to enjoy the fried, fatty goodness without thinking about the sweaty people back in the kitchen who man the fryers all night long. I’m only half kidding.

We shared an appetizer of the Cornmeal Fried Green Tomatoes, which were served stacked—crispy, tangy bricks held together with a generous mortar of applewood bacon-cheddar pimento cheese. Heaven.

My entrée, Peach Mustard BBQ Glazed Atlantic Salmon, was also delectable, and definitely exemplary of what “New Southern” cuisine is all about—an homage to South Carolina’s undying obsession with mustard-based barbeque sauce (I could take a bath in it!), served with restraint on salmon instead of the standard (beloved) pork. The peach element in the dish was a candied pecan-peach salsa spooned over the top, which needed a more acid and spice. But the creamed grits served on the side made me forget any other possible criticism of the dish. Full of cream, butter, and garlic, the grits were like bites of pure nostalgia for me.

My Greasy Lover

My other meal of note was at Bojangle’s Famous Chicken and Biscuits. It’s a chain that’s been around the southern states since 1977, and I love it without shame. What makes it famous?

For one, their Cajun fried chicken is awesome, with spicy seasoning rubbed underneath the skin so it has direct contact with the meat. Then the chicken is hand battered and fried to perfection. They make buttermilk biscuits from scratch all day long, and their side dishes, called “fixins” are also quite tasty—especially the dirty rice, Cajun pintos, and spicy Cajun seasoned fries. A diehard will enjoy her chicken dinner with a nice diabetic coma-inducing sweet tea, which is like a whole separate food group in South Carolina.

Don’t cringe—Bojangle’s is worlds away from KFC, and if you’re ever in the South I highly recommend it. (There’s even one in the Charlotte International Airport, for those just passing through.)

(The Real Deal)

(Bill "Bojangles" Robinson, c.1878-1949...no relation)

I Heart Tarts

2008-07-16T07:34:00.000-07:00

Currants are still at the Ann Arbor farmers market, and the jewel-like translucence of the red currants is just too seductive for me to pass up. While red currants are quite tart and are typically cooked with plenty of sugar, the black currants are just sweet enough to eat fresh. The addition of sugar (not too much, but not too little) cuts past the assertive tartness to allow the fruits’ real flavor to shine through—unique, refreshing and a bit wild and hard to place.

Wasem Fruit Farm sells them, and the gal at their table at the market today said that they have large groups of Russians out to their farm lately, picking masses of currants and gooseberries. (What do the Russians know that we don’t?!)

The web is full of all sorts of recipes using currants. I based the red currant tart recipe below on a European site, making the metric conversions and finding a simpler version of the classic paté sucrée. (Why fuss around rolling out a crust if you can just press it into your tart pan?) This recipe is dead simple, and in about an hour you can have a gorgeous tart that will taste as good (and French) as it looks.

Red Currant Tart

Crust
2 cups flour
2/3 cup sugar
½ tsp salt
1 tsp vanilla
8 Tbsp chilled butter, cut into small cubes
4 Tbsp heavy cream

Filling
14 oz red currants- stemmed, washed, and dried gently on a paper towel
2 eggs
5 Tbsp brown sugar
3.5 oz heavy cream
½ of a vanilla bean, scraped (if you want to get fancy with it—and make sure to save the pods to make vanilla sugar! Never let a perfectly good vanilla bean pod go to waste.)

1. Preheat oven to 350°
2. Whisk together flour, sugar, and salt in a large bowl. Using a hand-held pastry blender (you could probably just as well use a food processor), completely combine butter into flour mixture until the texture is fine grained and is like barely damp sand. There should be no gobs of butter visible.
3. Drizzle in vanilla extract and cream, then use a spoon and then clean hands to fully combine, forming a crumbly pastry dough.
4. Press dough evenly into a 10-inch tart pan. You can also use a pie pan of any size, but you’ll probably find yourself with more pastry than you need—or a thicker crust. Using a fork, pierce the dough all over to prevent puffing up in the oven.
5. Bake in the oven for 10-20 minutes, or until the crust is lightly browned. Keep watch over your crust, as baking time will vary depending on the pan you chose.
6. Remove crust from the oven to cool a bit.
7. While crust is baking, in a medium sized bowl whisk to combine eggs, cream, brown sugar and vanilla to combine.
8. Once crust has cooled a bit, lay currants in the bottom of the crust in a single layer. Gently pour egg mixture over currants—the liquid should be about three quarters up the pan, and not completely covering your currants. The custard will rise a bit as it cooks.
9. Bake tart at 350° for 30 minutes, or until the custard is set in the center and the crust becomes a nice golden brown. If crust is brown but the center is not fully set, cover the tart very loosely with a piece of foil. Remove from the oven to cool. Serve warm or chilled.

Luke...I am your fava.

2008-07-09T11:26:00.000-07:00

Today I hit the market nice and early to meet fellow blogger and friend Kim (aka: The Farmers Marketer) for shopping and coffee. She pointed me toward the baskets of fava beans that Tantré Farms was offering, and after discussing the probability that these could be more trouble than they’re worth, we each bought two boxes.

With my market bag filled with local edibles, I headed home to figure out lunch, committed to making something easy but fabulous with the favas.

A Note: Fava beans may be the ultimate “slow food” vegetable, considering that a pound or so of whole fava beans, once shelled, only yields about a cup and a half of beans. Once shelled, the beans need to be blanched and then popped from their skins, yielding about a cup of edible food.

Once prepped, fava beans are quick cooking and easy to use in all sorts of tasty recipes from soups to dips to sautés, as I did below.

Sauté of Fava Beans, Artichokes, and Pancetta (Yields one generous serving)

1-2 pound of unshelled fresh fava beans
8-10 ounces of artichoke hearts, quartered (I used frozen ones, defrosted)
3 Tablespoons diced onion
2 ounces pancetta, chopped
3 jarred Pepperoncini peppers, drained, left whole
Juice from 1/2 a lemon
Pepper
Parmesan Cheese, for sprinkling

1. Prep the fava beans: Remove beans from their pods. Drop beans into a pot of salted, boiling water for 3 minutes; drain, then transfer to an ice water bath for 5 minutes. Remove skins from each bean. Discard pods and skins.
2. In a large frying pan, fry pancetta over medium heat for 3 minutes or so, until it starts to crisp a bit and a good bit of the fat is rendered to liquid. Pour off some of the fat if desired.
3. Add onions and Pepperoncini, sauté until onion is soft and translucent.

(Onion, pancetta, and pepperoncini- what wouldn't taste good after mingling with these ingredients?)

4. Add artichoke hearts, sautéing over medium-high heat until heated through and lightly browned.
5. Add fava beans, stirring lightly for 1-2 minutes. Add lemon juice, toss lightly.
6. Transfer vegetables to plates, topping with black pepper and Parmesan cheese.

Homecoming Part One

2008-07-07T11:57:00.000-07:00

They say that everything moves slower down South. Whoever ‘they’ are, they’re right. The thick summer heat sucks the energy right out of your body as soon as you step out the door. There’s no use putting a spring in your step, lest you be drenched in sweat within minutes.

The service down South is noticeably slower, as are speed limits on the interstate. Even the southern drawl is lazy, turning a one syllable word like, “Hi” into the extended two syllable greeting, “Hey.”

On my recent vacation back home to South Carolina, I decided to surrender to the lackadaisical ways of the American South and just enjoy- stifling humidity and all.

A few early culinary highlights of my SC vacation:

Fruit and Cheese- A Perfect Beginning or End.

Dad’s fig tree was heavy with ripe fruit. We improvised an appetizer by stuffing the figs with fresh ricotta cheese, and drizzled on some local honey and cracked black pepper.

It was also blackberry season during my vacation—but with a heat index of 102 degrees, firing up the oven for a cobbler or pie lost all appeal. Instead, we folded tangy lemon curd into mascarpone cheese and spooned the mixture over fresh blackberries. Cool and lazy, it was the perfect dessert to follow pimento cheeseburgers on the grill.

More to come, but in the meantime:

South Carolina Fact-O-the-Blog: SC's official state beverage is...milk.

On the Table

2008-06-16T18:08:00.001-07:00

Peas have always been a favorite of mine.

Growing up, my brother and I constructed miniature forts out of slabs of meatloaf, held in place by a mortar of mashed potatoes. We shingled our little roofs with green peas before we dug in to eat--a perfect dinnertime combination, in both form and function.

Every summer we were put to work in the family garden, picking rows of sugar snap peas--not just for our table, but for the half dozen neighboring tables along our cul-de-sac. They were always worth the work, and while I haven't found sugar snap peas as sweet and tender as my dad's, peas are easy to find right now at the Ann Arbor Farmers Market.

This salad is made from Brines Farm arugula, fresh peas (blanched first) and mint, tossed in a bit of olive oil, lemon juice, salt and pepper, and topped with shaved Parmesan. It hit the spot for dinner tonight, with the sweet peas and mellow mint providing the right foil against the spicy greens.

Below: (Summer 2006) My dad gets an early start on breaking in the next generation of pea-picking slave labor.

Can't Be Beet!

2008-06-11T07:24:00.000-07:00

I had never eaten a beet that wasn't pickled until just a few summers ago, when I resolved to start revisiting all the vegetables that I avoided in my youth. This was the first recipe I tried and it remains a favorite. It is from Giada De Laurentiis' Everyday Italian cookbook, and the combination of ingredients hits your palate just about everywhere. The season is right for spicy arugula and tasty new beets, but truthfully you can pretty much make this salad any time of year with tasty results. I recommend some nice Zingerman's Creamery goat cheese!

Beet and Goat Cheese Arugula Salad

1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
3 tablespoons shallots, thinly sliced
1 tablespoon honey
1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
6 medium beets, cooked and quartered
6 cups fresh arugula
1/2 cup walnuts, toasted, coarsely chopped
1/4 cup dried cranberries or dried cherries
1/2 avocado, peeled, pitted, and cubed
3 ounces soft fresh goat cheese, coarsely crumbled

Line a baking sheet with foil. Preheat the oven to 450 degrees F.

1. Whisk the vinegar, shallots, and honey in a medium bowl to blend. Gradually whisk in the oil. Season the vinaigrette, to taste, with salt and pepper. Toss the beets in a small bowl with enough dressing to coat.

2. Place the beets on the foil and seal them up in the foil, creating an envelope. Roast until 25 minues, then open the foil envelope, toss the beets a bit, then roast uncovered for another 20 minutes or until they are tender and caramelized. Set aside and cool.

3. Toss the arugula, walnuts, and cranberries in a large bowl with enough vinaigrette to coat. Season the salad, to taste, with salt and pepper.

4. Mound the salad atop 4 plates. Arrange the beets around the salad. Sprinkle with the avocado and goat cheese, and serve.

Tasting Summer

2008-05-31T10:54:00.000-07:00

Despite the fact that last week we actually had a few days with highs hovering in the upper 50's, it seems that summer is finally coming to Ann Arbor. I spotted the first flower on my sugar snap pea plants, the nasturtiums are finally leafing, and the Ann Arbor Farmers Market is starting to look like genuine eye candy.

There are still heaps of greens (spinach, spring mix lettuces and baby swiss chard) and plenty of farmers peddling asparagus spears ranging from pencil thin to dangerously thick. But this week the strawberries, baby squashes, and even the delicate squash blossoms made their debut.

We dove into the strawberries right away--who could resist? And the patty pans and baby zucchinis will be sauteed and served alongside some roasted fingerling potatoes. Bon apetit!

Chocolate Fix

2008-03-25T12:28:00.001-07:00

My dear friend, Nikki Two-Beers, stumbled upon a Michigan beer (which shall not be named) while vacationing near Asheville, North Carolina this past fall. I was so excited that she got a hold of something craft-brewed from my new home state- so you can imagine my disappointment when she informed me that in her book, it rated "slightly less appealing than a Killian's" (I trust her book, by the way- the woman is a beer goddess- a Modern St Pauli Girl, if you will).

So this entry is meant to redeem that horrible review. If you like beer...if you like chocolate...this is the beer you will wish you'd known about sooner. Bell's Special Double Cream Stout is absolutely rich, creamy, and turned out to make a darn good afternoon snack while I watched the snow fall outside my office window on the first day of Spring.

Heavy on the roasted malt, barely a whisper of hops, and sporting a velvety beige head, this gorgeous beer was what I've always secretly wished Guinness was- utterly drinkable, instead of nearly chewable. It was an ideal accompaniment to my belated St. Patrick's Day dinner of corned beef, sauteed cabbage, and homemade scalloped potatoes. The next night I drank one for dessert with some dark chocolate flecked with cocoa nibs.

Bell's Bewery sells this brand seasonally, November through March- so get on the horse and scavenge around for a six-pack- or three. You won't be disappointed.

Check out Bell's Brewery here:

www.bellsbeer.com

Oh, the chasm that separates farmstead cheese from Cheetos

2008-01-19T20:52:00.000-08:00

Just a personal observation: For many people, a day can potentially take a turn for the better or worse (and thus be quantified) based solely upon what they ultimately chose to fill their belly's with.

For example, last Thursday ended on a high note for me, largely due to tasting fresh goat curd cheese that, early the previous morning, had still been inside a goat.

The following evening, the day was summed up (poorly) in terms of the generous portion of Cheetos I ate, chased by three canned Diet Cokes.

Now I will say that for the average twelve year-old boy, the above pairings of food/appraisal of day would probably be reversed.

(ie: Fresh-from-the-Teat Goat Curd = Creepy Day
Copious Amounts of Cheetos and Soda = Awesome Day)

Then there's the frustrated dieter, for whom eating minuscule quantities of food- usually of questionable quality- compels them to view their day in terms of simultaneous juxtaposition.

Example:
My mom calls me and says, "I just finished my lunch. I only had two carrots with some hummus and three Wheat Thins." The tone in her voice rings of both victory, and a sense of longing that will probably go unrealized (until she hits the Edy's Cookies and Cream later on that night.)

Pictured above: Manchester Cheese at Zingerman's Creamery Ann Arbor. Young on its journey to aged perfection, it smelled alive.

Elfin Goodness In My Cup

2008-01-17T06:55:00.001-08:00

How surprised was I to find a package of Gnome Brew at my doorstep this past Tuesday! Kudos to my dearest friend for giving home coffee roasting a try- and then sharing her finished product with me. Nikki Two-Beers (as I may from this day on refer to her...Nikki Two-Beers, your input is welcome on this issue), who in collaboration with her hubby is already producing covet-worthy home brewed beer, employed a humble stove-top popcorn popper to roast her own beans. Great choice to use peaberry beans-and dig that gold foil package!

The verdict on the taste? I'll agree with Nikki that it is indeed "quite drinkable". My husband and I, upon closer scrutiny had slightly dissenting opinions. He felt that it needed to be roasted longer. I felt the opposite. But honestly, I don't really know enough about how roasting time impacts flavor to comment in any artisinal capacity. The best evaluation I can offer is that the first flavors on my palate were rich and very tasty. The final "aftertaste" was a tad strong, certainly not a burned flavor, but a little like over-browned edges on an English muffin. But this wasn't a hard negative, because it reminded me of going camping, and drinking coffee that's been boiled over a campfire. Kind of nostalgic, actually.

So great first shot, Nikki Two-Beers! I am so proud that you have turned your kitchen into a laboratory for gastronomic experiments of all sorts. You are part of the next generation of happy homemakers who dare to step outside the box of condensed soup and JELLO pudding in favor of craftsmanship and innovation.