Sunday, August 30, 2009

yes

A bit ago, I ran off to work in the morning, leaving Joey carless with the kids for the day. He had that look that I know that I get sometimes too, trying to be hopeful about the day, but facing the expanse of time after the last few sips of coffee with some dread.
"There are cucumbers in the fridge. Make pickles." That was all I had to offer, and I felt a little bad about it as I said it.
Kitchen experimentation is my thing. Joey makes a good grilled cheese. But there were a lot of cucumbers in the fridge and Joey really likes pickles, hence the suggestion.
I went to work and forgot all about it. And when I came back from work, there were pickles. Lots of pickles. They were lined up in the pantry, ready for their dormant rest time. And they were beautiful. Not only did Joey make pickles- he filled the jars with edible art: chili peppers that had been withering in the crisper drawer, bursting dill flowers from the garden, garlic cloves and nasturtiums.
And for some reason, those jars of pickles got me thinking. I was struck by the extent to which Joey said "yes" to my suggestion. And that word started to gain more importance. I find myself encouraging the girls to "yes," and they get it too. Sometimes I just holler "YES!" and things start changing around. And when I hear myself saying "no" to everything, as I do when I'm in just that sort of mood, it starts coming right back to me, and I'm surrounded by a whole lot of no's.
So, coming into the fall, I'm going for the age of yes. There are some things up in the air, but I'm feeling optimistic about the outcome.

Quick Dill Pickles
from Alice Waters, Chez Panisse Vegetables

3 to 4 pounds small pickling cucumbers
3 cups apple cider or white wine vinegar
3 cups water
1/3 cup kosher salt
2 tablespoons dill seed or flowering tops of 4 to 5 dill plants

Optional:
fresh grape leaves, dried chilies, garlic, fennel, peppercorns, mustard seeds, coriander seeds, cloves.

Wash the cucumbers thoroughly under cold water. Heat the vinegar, water and salt to boiling. Pack the cucumbers in sterilized jars with the dill and whatever else you would like to put in there. Fill the jars within 1/2 inch of the top with the boiling hot brine. Put on the lids, tighten the bands, and allow to cool. Listen for the pop of the lid as it cools. If it doesn't pop, put that jar in the fridge and eat that one first. Store pickles in a dark place and wait 2 weeks to cure before eating. Refrigerate after opening, and use the pickles within 6 months.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

daring dobos torta


I must admit, this almost didn't happen. Life has picked up a couple of notches, and I found myself beginning to imagine the reality of skipping the first Daring Baker's challenge since I joined up almost a year ago. The other morning, I had all of my ingredients lined up, and I was still trying to back out, weaseling my way through excuses. Luckily, Donovan is visiting. And we all know how daring she is- remember when she stole those lemons for me? "Oh Alana, it wouldn't be a challenge if there wasn't a struggle there."
Okay, okay. I'm starting to sift flour, albeit with some major resistance, waiting for some family emergency to take me away from the project.
Then my mother called. My aunt and uncle were in town and the whole family was coming over for dinner.
Me: Hi Mom. I'll be making a complicated cake for the next six hours or so.
Mom: What? It's so hot today! So miserable! So humid! Did you know we'll reach 100 percent humidity tonight? Make it later in the week, when it's cooler.
Me: Hell no! I'm excited to make this cake! In fact, this is the perfect weather to make this cake! Come over tonight, and there will be cake!
Now, do you see how that went? My mother and I are great friends, and she is one of my favorite people. But like my mother (imagine that!) I tend to let the weather have perhaps more power than is necessary when it comes to my daily activities. And there's nothing like a mother's adversity to get me raring on a project. What am I, sixteen? Anyway, thanks Mom, for making this one happen.

A few notes on this cake before we begin. I have to admit that I wasn't too excited starting out. The whole thing seemed that it might be too sweet for my tastes, and caramel doesn't excite me. But there are a lot of cool things going on in this cake, and I took it as a good lesson, for which it was fabulous. It was also my first time making a real buttercream- a process way overdue.
I made this recipe exactly as it was written. I even used cake flour, which comes in a scary box with the word "BLEACHED" in big letters. Most of all, I figured out something that was more helpful than anything- I pinned up the recipe all over my kitchen. Check it out!


The August 2009 Daring Bakers' challenge was hosted by Angela of A Spoonful of Sugar and Lorraine of Not Quite Nigella. They chose the spectacular Dobos Torte based on a recipe from Rick Rodgers' cookbook Kaffeehaus: Exquisite Desserts from the Classic Caffés of Vienna, Budapest, and Prague.

So here we go...
First, the ingredients:




Sponge cake layers

  • 6 large eggs, separated, at room temperature
  • 1 1/3 cups (162g) confectioner's (icing) sugar, divided
  • 1 teaspoon (5ml) vanilla extract
  • 1 cup plus 2 tablespoons (112g) sifted cake flour (SUBSTITUTE 95g plain flour + 17g cornflour (cornstarch) sifted together
  • pinch of salt

Chocolate Buttercream

  • 4 large eggs, at room temperature
  • 1 cup (200g) caster (ultrafine or superfine white) sugar
  • 4oz (110g) bakers chocolate or your favourite dark chocolate, finely chopped
  • 2 sticks plus 2 tablespoons (250g) unsalted butter, at room temperature.

Caramel topping

  • 1 cup (200g) caster (superfine or ultrafine white) sugar
  • 12 tablespoons (180 ml) water
  • 8 teaspoons (40 ml) lemon juice
  • 1 tablespoon neutral oil (e.g. grapeseed, rice bran, sunflower)

Finishing touches

  • a 7” cardboard round
  • 12 whole hazelnuts, peeled and toasted
  • ½ cup (50g) peeled and finely chopped hazelnuts

Directions for the sponge layers:

NB. The sponge layers can be prepared in advance and stored interleaved with parchment and well-wrapped in the fridge overnight.

1.Position the racks in the top and centre thirds of the oven and heat to 400F (200C).
2.Cut six pieces of parchment paper to fit the baking sheets. Using the bottom of a 9" (23cm) springform tin as a template and a dark pencil or a pen, trace a circle on each of the papers, and turn them over (the circle should be visible from the other side, so that the graphite or ink doesn't touch the cake batter.)
3.Beat the egg yolks, 2/3 cup (81g) of the confectioner's (icing) sugar, and the vanilla in a medium bowl with a mixer on high speed until the mixture is thick, pale yellow and forms a thick ribbon when the beaters are lifted a few inches above the batter, about 3 minutes. (You can do this step with a balloon whisk if you don't have a mixer.)

4.In another bowl, using clean beaters, beat the egg whites until soft peaks form. Gradually beat in the remaining 2/3 cup (81g) of confectioner's (icing)sugar until the whites form stiff, shiny peaks. Using a large rubber spatula, stir about 1/4 of the beaten whites into the egg yolk mixture, then fold in the remainder, leaving a few wisps of white visible. Combine the flour and salt. Sift half the flour over the eggs, and fold in; repeat with the remaining flour.


5.Line one of the baking sheets with a circle-marked paper. Using a small offset spatula, spread about 3/4cup of the batter in an even layer, filling in the traced circle on one baking sheet. Bake on the top rack for 5 minutes, until the cake springs back when pressed gently in the centre and the edges are lightly browned. (This one was too thin, and so too brown, but it was okay anyway).

While this cake bakes, repeat the process on the other baking sheet, placing it on the center rack. When the first cake is done, move the second cake to the top rack. Invert the first cake onto a flat surface and carefully peel off the paper. Slide the cake layer back onto the paper and let stand until cool. Rinse the baking sheet under cold running water to cool, and dry it before lining with another parchment. Continue with the remaining papers and batter to make a total of six layers. Completely cool the layers. Using an 8" springform pan bottom or plate as a template, trim each cake layer into a neat round. (A small serrated knife is best for this task.)

A Note here: Joey came out with a template that worked much better for me- the outside of an 8" tart pan. Then you can cut around the inside of the pan. I'll let Joey demonstrate...



Directions for the chocolate buttercream:

NB. This can be prepared in advance and kept chilled until required.

1.Prepare a double-boiler: quarter-fill a large saucepan with water and bring it to a boil.
2.Meanwhile, whisk the eggs with the sugar until pale and thickened, about five minutes. You can use a balloon whisk or electric hand mixer for this.
3.Fit bowl over the boiling water in the saucepan (water should not touch bowl) and lower the heat to a brisk simmer. Cook the egg mixture, whisking constantly, for 2-3 minutes until you see it starting to thicken a bit. Whisk in the finely chopped chocolate and cook, stirring, for a further 2-3 minutes.

NOTE: I'm thinking that I overcooked the buttercream. Everything was light and wonderful, and then in a moment, it was liquid. I went from this:

To this:

It still had a good flavor, and thickened in the fridge, but it wasn't velvety at all.

4.Scrape the chocolate mixture into a medium bowl and leave to cool to room temperature. It should be quite thick and sticky in consistency.
5.When cool, beat in the soft butter, a small piece (about 2 tablespoons/30g) at a time. An electric hand mixer is great here, but it is possible to beat the butter in with a spatula if it is soft enough. You should end up with a thick, velvety chocolate buttercream. Chill while you make the caramel topping.


Directions for the caramel topping:

1.Choose the best-looking cake layer for the caramel top. To make the caramel topping: Line a jellyroll pan with parchment paper and butter the paper. Place the reserved cake layer on the paper. Cut the cake into 12 equal wedges. Lightly oil a thin, sharp knife and an offset metal spatula.


2.Stir the sugar, water and lemon juice in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil over a medium heat, stirring often to dissolve the sugar. Once dissolved into a smooth syrup, turn the heat up to high and boil without stirring, swirling the pan by the handle occasionally and washing down any sugar crystals on the sides of the pan with a wet brush until the syrup has turned into an amber-coloured caramel.
3.. Immediately pour all of the hot caramel over the cake layer. You will have some leftover most probably but more is better than less and you can always make nice toffee pattern using the extra to decorate. Using the offset spatula, quickly spread the caramel evenly to the edge of the cake layer. Let cool until beginning to set, about 30 seconds. Using the tip of the hot oiled knife (keep re-oiling this with a pastry brush between cutting), cut through the scored marks to divide the caramel layer into 12 equal wedges. Cool another minute or so, then use the edge of the knife to completely cut and separate the wedges using one firm slice movement (rather than rocking back and forth which may produce toffee strands). Cool completely.

Another trick here: Use scissors!


Assembling the Dobos

1.Divide the buttercream into six equal parts.
2.Place a dab of chocolate buttercream on the middle of a 7 1/2” cardboard round and top with one cake layer. Spread the layer with one part of the chocolate icing. Repeat with 4 more cake layers. Spread the remaining icing on the sides of the cake.


3.Optional: press the finely chopped hazelnuts onto the sides of the cake.
4.Propping a hazelnut under each wedge so that it sits at an angle, arrange the wedges on top of the cake in a spoke pattern. If you have any leftover buttercream, you can pipe rosettes under each hazelnut or a large rosette in the centre of the cake. Refrigerate the cake under a cake dome until the icing is set, about 2 hours. Let slices come to room temperature for the best possible flavor.

And how was it?

Too sweet for me. The caramel layer was, to quote Donovan, unkind. And too lemony. We discussed simply soaking the top layer in some sort of liquor, and I think that would have been much yummier. But I learned lots, and came out daring once again. Go check out the Daring Kitchen for more exciting Dobos tortes.

Monday, August 24, 2009

ricotta leek tart with fresh herbs

I bought this tart pan at Le Roux in Portland. Then David Lebovitz used it for this tart just a few days later, I think perhaps just make me more excited about the tart pan, if that was possible. You see, for someone like me, who hopefully will someday learn to make my food beautiful, but is still a bit challenged in that department, a tart pan like this works out well. Because although my pie crusts clunk around the pie pan and a piping bag is no more useful than a water gun in my hands, a tart pan like this not only makes other people think that I have a talent for beautiful food, but it makes me feel like I have a talent for beautiful food, which is a good thing for my self esteem.
It doesn't hurt to put a great tart in the pan, either. David Lebovitz took this one from Deborah Madison and messed with it a bit, and then I messed with his. A game of recipe telephone, if you will. Yup, I play games with the big guys.

Ricotta Leek Tart with Fresh Herbs

At David Lebovitz's suggestion, I used this olive oil crust for this one, and it was brilliant, crunchy and light. Follow Clotilde's recipe and prebake it for ten minutes before adding the filling.

2 medium leeks, sliced thin, using all of the white and about half of the green
1 tablespoon butter
1 1/2 tablespoons chopped fresh thyme
1/4 cup chopped fresh basil
1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley
8 oz. fresh ricotta (you can make your own, if you like)
1 large egg
1/2 cup heavy cream
1/2 cup whole milk
salt and freshly ground pepper

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. In a small skillet, melt the butter. Add the leeks and cook for a few minutes until tender, seasoning with salt and pepper. Stir in the thyme and remove from heat. Allow to cool to room temperature.
In a large bowl, combine the leeks, fresh herbs, ricotta, egg, cream and milk. Add any additional salt and pepper if you wish.
Spread into the prebaked tart pan until slightly browned on top and just set, about 20-30 minutes, depending on the shape of your tart pan.
Serve at room temperature.

Friday, August 21, 2009

tomato and tomatillo panzanella

After we loaded to the innards of our week in Maine into the Subaru, we stopped at Scratch in South Portland to see what of the place we could bring back with us. The sea salt bagels were all sold out, but there was bread, and one of the loaves that somehow survived the drive back home (without me eating it, that is) was a perfect ciabatta.
We've been back not quite 48 hours, and it's been hotter than the L Word around here. The air is so heavy that it's hard to make your way through, and just when you think you can make it outside for a minute, the mosquitos swarm in numbers I have never seen before. And for some reason, when it gets this damp, the house starts smelling like pee. It's really summer now.
I got back home to a garden gone wild, complete with bursting and beautiful tomatillos. Tomatillos suffer from people not being quite sure what to do with them. They are an obvious salsa ingredient, but beyond that, what to do with tomatillos? Honestly, sliced thin in combination with big wedges of tomato- better than a snickers from the freezer.
By last night, we had half of the ciabatta left, and I decided to make a panzanella. This is a great full meal salad, and another good way to use all of the excess produce in danger of going uneaten. I'm going to give you a rough guideline of a recipe, as this one can be played with as much as you like.

Tomato and Tomatillo Panzanella

5 tomatillos, peeled of paper skins and sliced thin
1 large tomato, cut into wedges
1/2 loaf rustic bread, cut into bite sized cubes
10 green beans
1/2 sweet red pepper, cut into matchsticks
olive oil
salt and pepper
red wine vinegar
balsamic vinegar
dijon mustard
a couple handfuls of lettuce, washed and dried

In a large skillet, heat a few tablespoons of olive oil. Add the bread and green beans and fry for a few minutes, stirring so as not to burn the bread. When the bread is golden, turn off the heat. While the bread is cooking, make the vinaigrette. Dissolve some sea salt into a few tablespoons of red wine vinegar, then add about half as much balsamic. Whisk in a few tablespoons of olive oil and the mustard. Taste it and play until you find the taste that you like. In a large bowl, toss the fried bread, tomatoes, pepper, green beans with the vinaigrette, tasting as you go to get the dressing saturation to your liking.
On a platter, lay out the lettuce. Pile the contents of the bowl over the lettuce and top with salt and freshly ground pepper.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

mackworth island

I promise I'll flood you with recipes soon, but this morning, a little recommendation. There is a place a few miles north of Portland, an island that is connected to the mainland by a little bridge. If you have little ones, or if you are a particularly whimsical grown-up, get yourself to Mackworth Island. The other day we met friends for a morning walk, and walked on the woody cliffy beach trail until we reached the city of fairy houses. Definitely up in the more magical experiences of my life, and the girls could have built fairy houses all day.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

caiola's

There is a restaurant in the West End of Portland that Sarah has been wanting to take me to for a while. In fact, she was convinced I'd want to move up here just so that I could work there, or even stand by the wall in the kitchen so that I could watch.
And she was right.
It must be the beach, or vacation head, but I am not having a Ruth moment tonight. I want to tell you how I felt about this meal at Caiola's, but I'd rather you were just there. But I'll see what kind of words I can muster.
There were drinks. Really good Drinks.

There was an abundant and outrageous antipasti plate. Look.

And the burger came with homemade tater tots.


Trout with creamed corn and swiss chard, and the corn was almost raw and barely cooked in something a little spicy, and it burst in the most beautiful way.

Happy girls in the garden.



It was Jefferson's birthday, and he choose three desserts. Fig ricotta ice cream.

Plum crisp with maple whipped cream.

And the creamiest panna cotta I have ever witnessed. I think they must have snuck some mascarpone in there or something.

Someday I might need to grow into a woman who could start a place like this. In time, in time.

Saturday, August 15, 2009

kraut


Yes, I'm still in Maine, and feeling pretty dreamy about the whole thing. We've just been eating a lot vacation food, and spending good time with Sarah and Jefferson, and loving this city. Last night I got to drop by a book signing for this book by Amanda Soule, although I was pretty shy and nerdy, it was a treat to meet such a woman. The other night, we ate ten lobsters, and last night Joey and I saw this movie, which was good because it was made for a focus group of my peers, I think, which felt a little creepy. But a movie at 9:45, that's a vacation.
But I know you keep asking about the kraut, and I'm going to slip out of the dream for a minute to revisit the experience, which, I think, will be the first of many. Not necessarily because I made amazing kraut, but because I learned a lot and am eager to give it another try. It's totally edible, but too salty, I think, and could have done its thing for a bit longer. But let me get to it- this is what happened.
I grew a lot of cabbage this year. When Jen showed up with a million cabbage starts in April, how could I say no? So kraut seemed like a viable future for us. A few weeks ago, the Northampton contingent came over and we chopped cabbage while the kids made chaos.
Note 1: Next time, I will grate the cabbage. It should be thinner.
We used three types of cabbage, red, a cool conical early green, and savoy.
Note 2: Next time, I will not use savoy. It didn't hold up to the others.
I drew my directions from here and then more helpfully here. Basically, in two huge pots, we put a two inch layer of cabbage. Then two tablespoons of kosher salt. Then use a potato masher and bruise the cabbage as much as you can.
Note 3: Although the directions said that you need two tablespoons of salt to make the kraut do its thing, it was too salty! Next time I will play with the salt to see if I can use less.
Then we made more layers in the same way. Cabbage, salt, bruise, cabbage, salt bruise. When we came to end of the cabbage supply (I thought it would never happen), I put a plate in the pot that just fit in it, and weighted it down with a jug filled with water. This was my set up.

Then I covered it with a towel and put it in a cool place. On the second day, I was instructed to check it and make sure that it was generating some liquid. It was dry as a bone. So I added a bit of salted water.
By the third day if not sooner, the kraut is supposed to be entirely under the brine that it has magically self created. Mine still needed a bit of help. So, filled with anxiety that I had already screwed it up and it was going to be a moldy mess, I added more salt water.
Note 4: I would have made sure it was covered with liquid earlier, like by the end of the first 24 hours as some instructions say. Once it was covered, it really started cooking.
By the fourth day, it was covered with, shall we say, activity. This is totally part of the process, and you have to let your nose be your guide here. If it smells like rotten cabbage, throw it out. If it smells like kraut, you're on to something. But the surface should look something like this.

From here on, you're going to want to skim off this stuff every day. Be gentle with it, you know how a living and breathing animal in your kitchen. Exciting, isn't it?
A word here about fermentation. I was conceived shortly after my mother left a macrobiotic cult. I was raised on ume plum paste and brown rice- let's just say my blood might have a bit of fermentation to it. But for those of you who are fermentation virgins, don't be afraid. I know it's scary, but it's good for you! Although sometime I'll tell you about the terrifying lecture that I heard from the head of this organization, they put out a lot of great information on the benefits of fermentation.
The kraut should be done in 7 to 10 days or so. Taste it to see. I stopped mine a bit short of when it was ready because I was off to Maine. It's pretty crunchy. This is what it looked like.


And as I said, it was so salty. So I rinsed it, which I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to do.
Note 5: I think I should have put it in jars in the brine, and then washed it before I ate it.
But I put it into mason jars and mixed in a bunch of caraway seed, which was a really good idea.
Then into the fridge, and apparently should be good for a few months.

And that's the story of my kraut, take one. If anyone has any advice on the second batch, please share. I think I could use a little help.

Friday, August 14, 2009

maine: day 3

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

duck fat

Day one in Maine. arrived sleepy late into the night, and today we went to duck fat. It was so busy that we had to wait on the street while trying to entertain the girlies, and when we finally settled at our high and perfect table, we were excited and sleepy and a bit too hungry.

This place is amazing. We've been thinking about it since we found the locally sourced poutine and milkshakes last year. I think they sum it up pretty well themselves.
"Why duckfat fries?"
"Because duck fat makes fries taste good!"
Belgian fries with homemade mayos, paninis with amazing things like duck confit and black mission fig mustarda, roasted beet salads, and beignets. Beautiful women with a penchant for kitchen gear, white beer with lunch, and I am right at home.








We went back into the foggy day full and happy. And me, thinking of all the things I could fry in duckfat. More adventures tomorrow.