Curried Carrot Salad

This is short and photoless, cause the last one was long and had lots of pictures, and this one isn't pretty to look at. But it's pretty damn tasty.

Waste not, want not. I still had at least a large bag (probably more) of baby carrots sitting in a tub of water in my fridge from doing the food for the We Are Family benefit last month. (Check them out. They rock in more ways than one.) I was trying to get through them, but there's only so many baby carrots and hummus a person can eat. (And I ate a lot of baby carrots and hummus. Didn't seem to be making a dent.) So, heat be damned, I roasted those suckers. With some garlic, ginger and curry powder. When they cooled down, I coated them in Greek-style yogurt. They won't last long now.

1 largeish bag baby carrots (or similar amount of regular carrots - remember those? - peeled and chopped into big-ish pieces)
1 tbsp minced garlic
1 tbsp minced fresh ginger
1 tbsp curry powder
1/3 cup olive oil
1/4 tsp salt
fresh ground pepper
1 cup Greek-style or strained plain yogurt

Preheat the oven to 75. Put the carrots in a largeish roasting pan. Mix the garlic, ginger, curry powder and olive oil into a loose paste and coat the carrots with it. (Cmon... just use your hands. It's so much easier.) Roast the carrots, stirring occasionally until they're sweet and tender and beginning to caramelize, at least an hour. Cool to room temperature and coat with yogurt.

Farrotto

The blog... It's alive! After almost two years, the blog is back. So yeah. Um, anyway, farrotto, or, farro, prepared like risotto...

Farro is a very trendy grain lately, despite the fact that no one seems to be totally sure what it is. I got mine in a package thoughtfully marked "FARRO" at Whole Foods so I didn't have to do too much thinking on my own. Farro is apparently an "ancient grain" (I don't know, either) often used in the Veneto region of northern Italy, where they work risotto-like magic upon it. (Speaking of risotto magic, anyone who has not seen the episode of Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations from Venice (season 6) should hurry up and stream it from Netflix to watch what the expert risotto chefs on Murano do instead of stirring. It will blow your mind. OK, it blew my mind. Maybe your mind is not quite as susceptible to blowout-by-risotto as mine seems to be. But it makes spectacularly clear what is meant by the Venetian preference for risotto "all'onda" or wavy.)

The interest in farro seems to stem from the idea that farro is capable of making a sort of wholeier-grainier type of Italian comfort food than the (I guess now passe) Arborio rice. Comparing the labels, farro did, indeed, appear to have approximately twice the protein per 50g as the Arborio in my cupboard, and approximately 3g of dietary fiber, which is 3g more than Arborio has. And there are probably other nutritional goodies hiding out in the little farro kernels that were not apparent from the limited info on the label. So, I see the appeal from that angle.

I made my farrotto more or less the way I would have made a risotto. I initially turned to the internet for guidance. I wasn't sure whether it was going to need overnight soaking or something. (It didn't.) The only real difference was, based on a suggestion I found here, I whizzed the farro around in the Cuisinart for a few pulses before starting, to crack some of the grains and make them cook more easily. This didn't seem to have much effect on the hard little grains, and I have absolutely no idea whether it made any kind of difference at all to the final product. On this particular day, I had a small head of radicchio in the fridge, so I shredded that, and sauteed it down thoroughly (it was pretty bitter starting out) with some caramelized shallots (I had forgotten I'd used my last onion... I don't know how that happened... but it was OK, because the radicchio really needed the extra sweetness from the shallots). The total cooking time might have been a little longer than it would have been for risotto, but I definitely didn't cook it for anything like the 1 1/2 hours suggested in the link above.

How did it stack up against risotto? As a more nutritious alternative to risotto (which I lately tend to prefer over pasta for weeknight what-do-I-want-to-do-with-what's-in-the-fridge? type meals) it's very, very promising. I'd definitely say it's an alternative, rather than a substitute. That's a good thing... it's a thing in its own right, not a nutritionally spruced-up version of something else you'd rather be eating, like, say, whole wheat pasta (which I'm still having a hard time getting behind, frankly).

First, the flavor. It's somewhere in the barley family. It's more assertive than risotto. I've seen it referred to as "nutty" but I think "earthy" might be more apt. I didn't happen to use any mushrooms, but there was a definite mushroom-y note. I used beef broth, and I'm glad I did. Basically, think anything that would work well with a hearty beef barley soup would be welcome. Mushrooms, absolutely. Maybe a little anchovy. Red wine or vermouth. Squash. Rosemary and/ or sage. Pancetta. Smoky flavors would work. This is not to limit things, really, but more to say that I bet subtle flavors could get lost if you didn't think it out carefully. Risotto is a base for the flavors you add to it (and serve with it). With farotto, you'll need to consider the farro flavor as a partner for the other flavors.

Secondly, there are big, significant differences in texture. Here's the really important thing to know about farro: unlike Arborio rice, FARRO WILL NOT GIVE OFF STARCH AS IT COOKS AND IS STIRRED. As you stir risotto, the grains of rice release starch. This is what gives risotto its lovely creamy texture, even before you've added cream or butter or cheese. For farrotto, on the other hand, this means several things:

--It means there's not much point in stirring it as often as you would risotto. So, that means somewhat less effort for those anti-stirrers among you (of whom, people who have cooked with me will know-- I can hear them snickering now-- I am not one).

--BUT it also means that the texture of your farrotto will not be thickened by starch the way risotto's is. So-- important point-- as you get toward the end of adding your broth, YOU'LL WANT TO SLOW DOWN and add it a very little at a time. When you're making risotto, if you add a little bit too much broth, it sort of absorbs into the rice and into the starchy/creamy "sauce" that makes up the risotto. If you add a little too much broth to farrotto, you'll have barley soup. The liquid isn't going anywhere unless you cook it off, and it won't be thickened by starch, because there isn't any.

--BUT BUT that means that your farrotto is ultimately a little more forgiving. If you don't serve it instantly, it's not as much of a big deal. It's not going to get gummy and sticky like risotto. It also means you can heat it up the next day for lunch a little more successfully. Though that also means if you tried to make farrotto arancini (the fried risotto balls that are the traditional Italian solution to the lousy sticky risotto leftovers problem) they'd just fall apart in the pan since there'd be nothing holding them together.

--BUT BUT BUT that means if you want your farrotto to be creamy, you're going to need to impose the creaminess from without. I added about a tablespoon of creme fraiche (not strictly traditional I realize) and that made the texture very nice. The whole pot (1 cup of farro) made about about 4 servings, so I figured... eh... a quarter of a dollop of creme fraiche (ok, plus the Parmigiano I grated over it) wasn't going to completely wipe out the nutritional advantage of the farro (especially since I probably would have added it to risotto as well). But it's something you'll want to be aware of. It would, for example, make a vegan farrotto less texturally appealing than a vegan risotto.

As for the texture of the individual grains, farro retains more bite than risotto rice. Again, it's definitely more forgiving. Risotto has a fairly brief perfection point, where the grain is no longer hard in the middle, but it's not yet too soft to have any bite at all. If you pass the ideal point with risotto, the grains get too soft, and the whole thing is just kind of mushy. Farrotto retains a nice almost elastic bite that didn't seem to be hurt by a little extra cooking (I was trying to get rid of the extra liquid I'd mistakenly added) or even by microwaving the next day. I'm sure it's theoretically possible to cook it to the point of mush, but the danger certainly didn't seem imminent.

So, I guess I'm on the farrotto bandwagon. Whatever. It was delicious. There's plenty of scope for having fun with. Definitely something to explore in more depth, even at the risk of foodie hipness.

Adventures in Panettone

I guess I'm now sufficiently recovered from the holidays and caught up with work to FINALLY brain dump about all the panettone goings-on that led up to Christmas morning. (Also the debut of PICTURES! I'm still getting the hang of the whole taking pictures of food thing, so bear with me.) I've been making panettone at Christmas for about 7 or 8 years now, generally using a recipe from an old Cucina Italia. It's always been spectacularly delicious (mounds of egg, butter, rum, candied fruit... what more do you need to know, right?) but it's also always been a bit dense, reluctant to rise, unhappy at being retarded in the fridge overnight (cause you gotta have warm panettone on Christmas morning, apparently) and, more than once, returned to the oven in a panic after finding the middle wasn't done.

Obviously this couldn't go on.

Two or three years ago, I actually embarked on my adventures in sourdough bread baking (I'll post those too, maybe, when I feel like I've worked out some of the kinks) when I read about natural yeast panettone in Peter Reinhardt's The Bread Baker's Apprentice. Hey, I wanted "world class" panettone, too. But I spent a couple of frustrating Octobers in a row failing miserably to get a starter started in my apartment (while succeeding beyond my wildest dreams in getting said apartment to smell like baby puke). And then early last year, I ordered some starter from King Arthur, and my sourdough bread baking odyssey began. Then I saw the pandoro from Bruno's Bakery (now Settepani) in Brooklyn in Maggie Glezer's Artisan Baking... more inspiration. I sought guidance on TheFreshLoaf.com and Susan over at WildYeastBlog came through big time with a spectacularly detailed and illustrated post about making outstanding panettone (follow the link for the recipe I used). Yay Susan! Thanks again!

In the meantime, I'd asked my sister, who conveniently lives in Brooklyn, for "research loaves" of panettone and pandoro from Settepani. She came through, too. We tore into the panettone and the pandoro a couple of weekends before Christmas while on a family holiday-visiting tour of New England. (The fact that we, four adult people stuffed into a Toyota Camry for an entire 4-day weekend with what seemed like several months worth of luggage, did not just flat out kill each other, must, in part, be due to the outrageous deliciousness of this panettone.) Sorry about the dark picture.

The Settepani panettone was rich and fragrant with lovely open crumb structure and a distinct chew. Mine (previewing here for a moment), following Susan's instructions was anything but dense, and SO airy as to almost melt in your mouth. Two rather distinct categories of bread, really. Since I was so obsessed with getting it to lighten up, it's a little odd that, for what I think of as panettone, I preferred Settepani's more substantial loaf. Maybe it's just force of habit and all those years of dense-but-yummy have ruined me for the airy goodness of the new version. Though how I'd copy it, I'm not quite sure... maybe a drier dough, I think. A quest for next October/November, clearly.

Settepani's pandoro (left) was quite something as well, airy-er than the panettone, but, texture-wise, still another thing entirely from what I made this year (or in previous years). Definite ropy texture and a lovely buttery flavor with a very faint almost almond-y or nutty undertaste (though there aren't any nuts in the recipe).

So, inspired by Settepani's masterpieces (and desperately craving more buttery goodness) the moment of truth came on Christmas Eve. I had been hard at work turning my liquid starter into a firm "Italian" (or, maybe more accurately, Italianate) starter according to Susan's instructions. I've experimented a bit with firm starters and Maggie Glezer says they're supposed to quadruple in 4-8 hours or less. It always had before. But, just to be difficult, it was only doubling... and a half, or so. I briefly considered going the yeasted route, but decided to brazen it out. (Thank you again, Susan and Dolf for answering panicked posts on CHRISTMAS EVE!) And it worked really, really well.

A couple of things I did differently from Susan's recipe:
--Based on a recommendation in the Settepani pandoro recipe, I decided to use high-gluten flour (ie, beyond regular bread flour) so I used King Arthur's Organic High Gluten Flour, which I'd ordered from their website. And, man, this stuff was high-protein. But the downright weirdest thing about this (very, very wet) dough was that it had this texture sort of like the green slime that used to come in plastic eggs when I was a kid. Straight offa Nickelodeon, being dumped on someone's head. And I could feel the little cells of bread... little bubbles that popped in my fingers as I touched it. I don't know whether regular bread flour would have had this effect or not, but, anyway, it was fun at the time.

--Along with some of the water (I used about 1/3 to 1/2 of the liquid specified) I did add the rum the fruit had been soaking in. The yeasties (natural and SAF Gold) had already been giving off a boozy aura all on their own... like their little office Holiday party gone a little bit too far... but once I added the rum, it started to smell a bit like, well, cleaning up the morning after the party, when you find all the half-finished bottles of beer and melted frozen fruity drinks abandoned and beginning to take on their own funk. I was a little worried. But once it baked, it definitely had the nice rummy, buttery, rich flavor I was craving, so all's well that ends well.

--I didn't really decorate them. I also realized too late that I was out of razor blades. I considered going into a CVS, just to see what would happen when I walked up to the checkout counter late on Christmas Eve with nothing but a packet of straight-edged razor blades, but, fortunately or unfortunately, the opportunity didn't arise. I made do with a reasonably sharp knife, but I don't think the technique of the slash was as important with this bread as it is with regular sourdough bread.

--I added about 100g more fruit than Susan's recipe. It didn't seem to hurt the height at all. My family still wanted more. (Though, there was this odd effect in which the fruit seemed to hide in the texture of the bread. Like, you'd cut into it, and it wouldn't seem to be a fruity piece, and yet you'd get a mouthful of fruit nevertheless. Oh, it was so good...)

--I also didn't get the diastatic malt powder, so I think you can see how the crust is somewhat paler that it might be otherwise, but still quite nice.

Here they are on Christmas morning, the best present a girl could ask for, unlike in previous years, happily risen above the lip of the paper.


Here they are, cooling on my mom's old Gourmet magazines. Dolf... thanks for the tip about the singed skewers... aluminum foil to the rescue.

I managed to stave off the hungry hordes for about45 minutes before tearing into the first loaf. Didn't seem to hurt it any. I mean, before it was devoured.

I think this bread has the best crumb structure of any I've ever made. I think I've been too casual about gluten development previously. This had the extra boost of the high-protein flour and I also folded twice during the bulk rise, since it seemed so wet and formless.

There you have it, folks. Fantastically satisfying bread event.

My Mom's Scones

Preheat oven to 450.

Pulse in Cuisinart until most butter pieces are smaller than a pine nut:
2 cups flour
3 tbsp sugar
1 tbsp baking powder
1 stick butter, cut in small pieces (preferably very cold... frozen works well, but not required)
If using unsalted butter (which I do but my mom doesn't) add about 1/4 tsp salt

Combine the wet ingredients separately:
1/2 cup cream or milk (more fat will make them more tender, but you can use anything from skim to heavy cream)
1 egg
1+ tbsp scotch (or brandy or grand marnier or whatever)

At this point you can add a handful of dried or candied fruit (candied orange rind, currants, whatever you feel like). You could also add lemon or orange zest. You could even add fresh berries. I've also had some really good savory scones recently. I had some in Seattle from Macrina bakery that seemed to have grated cheddar (possibly though not necessarily replacing some of the butter) a small amount of sun-dried tomato and some dill. People also add bacon, herbs. If you wanted to do savory scones, you'd cut out the sugar and the alcohol, or make sure the alcohol flavor complemented your choice of ingredients.

Add all but a drizzle of the wet mixture to the dry mixture (save a tiny bit to pat on the top of the scones before baking). Mix just to combine. Turn out onto a surface (or I use a large, shallow mixing bowl) and sort of flatten it all out and then fold it over and flatten again. Do this maybe 5-10 times. This traps air and creates layers. (A pastry scraper makes this whole process easier.)


(UPDATE: This folding part seems to be the most difficult for people. Depending on how big your egg was, or how humid it is outside, your dough may be more or less wet. In general, just try to go with it. If you don't have a pastry scraper, you could use a spatula. But definitely use something to help you fold it over (and scrape the dough off your hands) without adding flour. If it's really outrageously wet, go ahead and sprinkle some extra flour. But you don't really want to end up with something resembling bread or cookie dough. Also, if you're having trouble adding the fruit or whatever, try sprinkling whatever you're adding before you fold. Do this enough times and it'll be well distributed through.)


When you're done folding, you can either flatten the dough till it's about 1/2 inch thick and cut with biscuit cutters or do what I did, which is divide the dough in 2, make each portion into a roughly round flat disc (again, about 1/2 inch thick) and then cut the disc in quarters. (If you use biscuit cutters, and you've folded correctly, you should hear a little hiss of air escaping as you press quickly down. This was one of my favorite sounds as a kid.)

Find the drizzle of wet ingredients you saved and brush the tops of the scones with it. The easiest way is just to use your fingers. If you feel like it, you can top with a sprinkling of sugar, cinnamon sugar, whatever you want. Or leave it off.

Bake for about 12 minutes, or until the scones are nicely browned.

Everyone's Favorite Salad Dressing

I am salad dressing-impaired. I don't know why. I have no trouble with things that notoriously give people fits. World-class hollandaise? Pie crust? No problem. But for some reason I can't make a simple vinaigrette that doesn't taste like I just shouldn't have bothered.

In this I am the shame of my family. My father makes outstanding salad dressing. And his father is the acknowledged salad master of our entire extended family. But my grandfather has a secret... an old and treasured copy of "Salads for the Gourmet" circa the Eisenhower administration. What's more, my grandfather is a recipe-follower. We're talking about a man who once scaled a marinade recipe by 7/8 because the leg of lamb he was going to marinate in it was 7/8 the weight called for in the recipe, bless his obsessive-compulsive heart.

So, though I wasn't going to hunt down a copy of my grandfather's salad bible, I figured I could still find some salad dressing recipes (I know, I know... a strange concept) and actually follow them. And now I can eat salad.

This recipe seems to be everyone's particular favorite, since it has been demanded after the first bite each time I've served it. I found it on epicurious.com, from Gourmet, May 2003.

It's creamy and well-balanced. It's actually a good substitute for mayo in things like potato salad and sandwiches (though it does have a looser consistency).

1/4 cup whole milk yogurt (I think lowfat Greek yogurt or regular lowfat yogurt strained to remove excess liquid would also work)
1+ tbsp olive oil
1+ tbsp lemon juice
1+ tbsp minced shallot
1 tbsp finely chopped chives
1 tbsp chopped tarragon (optional)
1 tsp sugar
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 tbsp Pommery mustard (This actually might be the secret... if you don't have it, you can substitute regular whole grain mustard, but really, even though you'll pay $20 for a crock of it, you won't regret having some of this in your fridge. You'll find it becomes your secret ingredient in just about everything. Don't forget to lick the spoon.)

I put everything in a jar with a tightly-fitting lid and shake.

The salad recipe it came with includes a lot of herbs, including a goodly amount of fresh flat-leaf parsley and some sorrel. I like parsley in salads, so you may want to try that, though I found that the sorrel got a little overwhelmed (which is sort of strange considering it has such a nice lemony-tart flavor by itself).

In my search for good salad dressing recipes, I also came across these in last month's issue of Food and Wine. The Dijon vinaigrette is especially good, though I haven't tried the other two yet.

Corn & Tomato Chowder

This was a fridge clearout soup, but it just happened that I had the makings for something fairly coherent in there. It's hard to go wrong with cream _and_ creme fraiche. So I was thinking about something kinda creamy, with some fresh tomatoes (I really had that slightly pink tomato creaminess thing on my brain) and corn, and I found this recipe (Corn and Tomato Bisque from Food and Wine) and then just changed it so that it more closely conformed to what I was craving. I finally got around to making some chicken leftovers into broth today (one of the many advantages of working at home) added some veggies from the farmer's market (though obviously the corn isn't quite in season here yet). It totally hit the spot.

2 tbsp butter
2 shallots, diced
1 large garlic clove, minced
1 tbsp sherry vinegar
2 cups raw corn (about 3 ears)
3 cups chicken stock
2 Yukon Gold Potatoes, cut in small dice
4 small (3-4 in) summer squash, cut in 1/4 in coins
3 tbsp creme fraiche
2 fresh tomatoes, diced
1/2 cup heavy cream
about 1/2 tbsp finely chopped chives or to taste

Saute the shallots in the butter until translucent but not brown. Add the minced garlic and saute barely 1 minute longer. Add the sherry vinegar and the corn, and saute for 2-3 minutes more.

Add the stock and the potatoes simmer until the potatoes are almost tender. Taste for salt and salt and pepper to taste. If you have an immersion blender, stir it around a little, but make sure a majority of the corn and potatoes remain unblended. The original recipe recommends taking some out of the pot and blending it, but I think this is unnecessarily labor intensive (though if you feel like it, it will make things a little creamier).

Add the squash, creme fraiche and tomatoes, and simmer about 3-4 minutes longer.

Finish with the heavy cream and the chives and serve.

Vegetable Crepes

(April Supper Club: Tapas)
Adapted from Penelope Casas's "Tapas: The Little Dishes of Spain." The secret weapon is the (almost classically French) reduction cream sauce in which the crepes get bathed. The leafy greens and carrots balance out the richness really well.

Crepes:
1 egg
1/2 cup milk
1/2 cup water
1 cup flour
1/8 tsp salt
3 tbsp butter

Melt the butter in the pan you'll use to make the crepes. The crepes should be about 5 in round, so ideally you want a small, non-stick pan. Combine all the ingredients and the melted butter from the pan in a blender. Re-heat the pan to medium high. Use only enough batter for each crepe to coat the pan. Each crepe should take less than 30 seconds a side. Pile each crepe on a plate as you finish. They shouldn't stick together.

Vegetable mixture:
1 large bunch dark leafy greens like collards or chard
4-5 medium carrots, diced
3 tbsp olive oil
2 medium onions, minced
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tbsp parsley, minced
1/4 tsp thyme

In a pan large enough to accommodate the carrots and the greens, saute the onions in the olive oil over medium heat until just golden brown. Add the minced garlic and saute a minute or so more. Add the diced carrots and cover the pan. Cook until the carrots are just tender, stirring often enough to prevent over-browning (adjust heat if necessary). If things are getting too brown you can add a little bit of water.

Chiffonade and wash the greens. (Chiffonade: Stack the leaves, and then roll them into a long roll. Cut 1/4 inch slices off of the roll.) Add the greens to the pan, and cook until wilted. You may need a little more water. Add the parsley and thyme and remove from heat. Add the whole thing to the food processor and process until it seems like a good texture for crepe filling. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Sauce:
2 tbsp butter
1/2 cup white wine (original recipe calls for dry, but I think I used a Riesling that wasn't quite as dry as I would have liked for drinking purposes, and it was pretty good)
1 1/2 cups vegetable or chicken broth
1/2 tsp whole grain mustard, preferably Pommery
1 1/2 cups heavy cream

Melt the butter in a medium skillet. Add the wine, broth, and mustard and boil down to reduce by half. Salt and pepper to taste. (Be sure to salt and pepper _after_ you reduce, since all flavors will become more concentrated in the process.) Stir in the cream and simmer until the sauce thickens noticeably.

Mix 1/2 cup of the sauce with the vegetable filling. Fill crepes (a couple of spoonfuls of filling per crepe) and lay them seam side down in a greased baking dish. Cover with the remaining sauce and bake at 350 for just about 5 minutes to heat through.

Yummy!

Spinach Tart

Kinda made this one up as I went along.

1. Make the tart crust (or get one at the store... I like the cornmeal crusts they have at Whole Paycheck). This is one I like from Nick Malgieri's How To Bake (another terrific reference). In Cuisinart, pulse the following until combined:
3/4 cup flour
3/4 cup yellow cornmeal
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp baking powder
6 tbsp unsalted butter

When combined (and resembling a coarse meal) add 1 egg and pulse until it forms a ball. Press the dough evently into a 10-inch tart pan. Chill in the fridge while making the spinach mixture. Preheat oven to 350.

2. Make a veloute in which to coat the spinach... Saute a large shallot in a couple tbsp butter until just translucent. Add a couple tbsp flour to make a roux. (If there's still butter unabsorbed, add more flour, but it shouldn't be so thick it can't "bubble.") Cook until light brown. Gradually add a cup or so of very hot chicken or veg stock while constantly stirring. If you need to whisk to get out the lumps, go ahead. Salt and pepper to taste (keeping in mind you'll be adding olives later). If you felt like adding an egg, you could. (In a separate bowl, beat the egg, beat in a little bit of veloute, and then, off the heat, add the whole mix to the pan of veloute and combine well.)

3. Add a package of fresh or frozen baby spinach and stir to combine. Add feta crumbles to taste (maybe half a package?).

4. Put spinach into tart pan. Add kalamata olives, toasted pine nuts, toasted pecans or walnuts, and anything else that strikes your fancy.

5. Bake for 30-40 minutes.

Creamed Hedgehog Mushrooms on Toast

Adapted from Food and Wine, Nov 1999

I made this all (or mostly) with stuff I found at the Dupont farmer's market one Sunday, and it was damn tasty. Makes 2 servings.

1 little bag of hedgehog mushrooms (the amount they sell you at the farmer's market... 1+ cups?) Hedgehog mushrooms are a lot like chanterelles.
1 tbsp butter
1 small shallot, minced
1 garlic clove, minced
3 tbsp cognac
1/4 cup heavy cream

1. Saute the shallot in the butter until softened. Add the garlic and saute just 1-2 mins. Add salt and pepper, and then the brandy, and reduce until syrupy (won't take long with this much). Add the cream and simmer until thickened.

So here's what I discovered about real cream at this point... the stuff from the farmer's market... the non homogenized, minimally processed stuff with no additional ingredients (no carageenan or whatever like you get in even organic cream from Whole Foods)... It's freakin' indestructable! No worries about breaking this sauce. Better even than creme fraiche. Wow. (Panna cotta would be no problem... you can boil it to your heart's content.) I also discovered (later) that it whips if you just ask it nicely. Don't take anything motorized to this stuff. You'll get butter.

2. At the same time as step 1, in a separate pan, saute the mushrooms in a little bit of butter.

3. Combine. Spoon onto toast. Eat.

Yum.

Pretty Amazin Sticky Buns

These are from Peter Reinhart's The Bread Baker's Apprentice, my go-to bread book, and a must-have if you're at all interested in bread making. The recipes are as dead-on reliable as Marcella Hazan's. (Though I haven't succeeded in making sourdough starter yet, but I think that's more to do with whatever local yeasts may or may not be living in my apartment...)

A favorite for weekend morning quartet rehearsals.

Peter Reinhart notes in the intro that the dough itself isn't really that rich, which is true (one egg, and just over half a stick of butter). But once you add in the sticky stuff, it's pretty decadent. The alternative would be to drizzle a glaze over the top, which would add plenty of sugar, but at least no more fat (and would still be pretty yummy). Both recipes are here.

6 1/2 tbsp sugar
1 tsp salt
5 1/2 tbsp unsalted butter (or shortening)
1 large egg
1 tsp vanilla (orig calls for lemon extract or grated lemon zest... that'd be good, too)
16 oz (3 1/2 cups) unbleached bread flour
2 tsp instant yeast
1 1/8-1/4 cups milk (orig recipe says whole or buttermilk, but I've always used skim or 1%)
1/2 cup cinnamon sugar (6 1/2 tbsp sugar plus 1 1/2 tbsp cinnamon)

The butter, egg and milk should all be at room temperature or the yeast won't perform as well. If you haven't had a chance to leave things out, you should definitely heat at least the milk in the microwave until it's no longer cold to the touch (but not more than about 110 degrees). Depending on your microwave, it might take 30-45 seconds. You could also take the chill off the butter in the microwave. If you want to warm the egg, you could stick it in some warm water for 10 minutes or so.

If you don't have a scale, note that for 3 1/2 cups of flour to be equivalent to 16 oz (or roughly 4.5 oz per cup) you need to use the "sprinkle" method of flour measuring (use a second cup measure to lightly sprinkle the flour into your main cup measure and don't pack it in or tap the cup). If you just scoop the the flour into the cup measure, you'll end up with roughly a 5-5.5 oz cup of flour.

I always use the mixer to make this, because it makes the whole process pretty trivial. But you could always do it the old fashioned way if you felt like it or wanted the kneading workout. Or if you wanted more time playing with the dough. This dough is beautiful dough to work with... just enough fat to make it smooth and silky and not at all sticky, but not so much that it's greasy.

1. Mixing: 20 mins Start with the paddle attachment in the mixer. Cream together the sugar, salt and butter. Add the egg and vanilla and whip until smooth. Add the flour, yeast and milk. Mix on low speed until combined. Switch to the dough hook and increase the speed to medium. You'll be mixing for about 10 minutes. The dough should come together in a ball more or less right away. If not, you may need to add more flour. After a minute or two, dough should have cleaned the sides of the bowl, and be sticking only slightly at the bottom of the bowl, if at all. If not, gradually add more flour. I've never seen it be too dry, so I don't know what that would look like, but you could add more water or milk.

You know you're done mixing (or kneading) when the dough passes the "windowpane test." Grab a hunk about the size of an egg, and see if you can stretch it so that it's translucent without any rippage (not even a little bit). The best way to figure out what I'm talking about is to try the test at various points in the mixing. You'll see how it rips early on, and gradually gets closer to the goal of a nice thin membrane. Don't worry about over mixing. Nothing really terrible happens if you mix for 12 minutes instead of 10. But if your dough doesn't pass the windowpane test, it means the gluten isn't fully developed, and your bread won't have the right texture. You can actually use this test in most bread recipes.

At this point, if you're not giddy about how beautiful and fantastic this dough feels, you've either done something wrong or I'm a little weird about these things.

2. First rise (ferment): 1-2 hours Cover the mixing bowl lightly and wait until the dough doubles in size. I don't bother oiling the bowl... the dough isn't going to stick. Depending on whether your ingredients were at room temp, and the temperature in the room, and the potency of your yeast, this could take anywhere from 1-2 hours. I've never had it take longer than that, but if you need to wait longer, maybe your kitchen is just cold.

3. Shape the buns: 10 mins I use a 9 x 9 brownie-type pan, but sometimes when the dough is really active, that seems a bit small. I may look for a slightly larger pan. Butter or oil the pan, even if it's non-stick. If you're making sticky buns, take the sticky bun carmel yumminess (recipe below) and spread it about 1/4 inch thick on the bottom of the pan. Put the dough on a clean surface. You shouldn't need flour... it won't stick. Flatten it out into a rectangle about 18 inches wide and a half inch thick. (I just use my hands, but you could use a rolling pin.) Spread the cinnamon sugar over the dough (at this point you could also add a judicious sprinkling of raisins, nuts, dried fruit, whatever) and then roll the dough up away from you into a log. I usually make 9 rolls, so cut the log into 9 roughly equal pieces (about 2 inches thick) and arrange them in the pan. If you're not going the caramel yumminess route, you can also just plop them on a baking sheet lined with parchment.

4. Proof: 75-90 mins at room temp, or overnight in the fridge If you're proofing at room temp, just be sure they've doubled in size again. Otherwise, you can keep them in the fridge (which slows the final proofing) for up to 2 days. If you go this route, they need to sit at room temp for 3-4 hours before baking, first to come up to room temp, and then to finally get a chance to proof.

5. Bake at 350: 30-40 mins Be sure to preheat the oven. I've just noticed that the recipe says to put the sticky buns in the lowest oven rack. I generally put them in the middle. NOTE: If you're going the non-caramel/baking sheet route, bake them for 20-30 mins, and in the middle of the oven.

Be sure the middle one(s) are really done before you take them out of the oven. The outer ones tend to brown before the middle ones, so don't be tempted to take them out too early.

6. If you can possibly stand it, let them sit at least 20 minutes before serving. If you didn't use the caramel sauce in the bottom of the pan, now would be the time to drizzle them with glaze.

Caramel Yumminess
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 tsp salt
1 stick unsalted butter
1 tsp vanilla or lemon extract
1/2 cup corn syrup, Lyles Golden Syrup, honey... whatever

Cream the sugars, salt and butter for a minute or 2. Add the syrup and extract and beat until fluffy.

This makes a little more than you need, but keeps well in the fridge or freezer.

Glaze
2 cups powdered sugar
1/4 cup warm milk
1 tsp (or to taste) vanilla, lemon extract, rum, grand marnier, whatever

Mix it all up.

Holiday Open House Recipes

Someone jokingly suggested this last night, and I suppose it's yet another sign of this crazy world we live in that this seemed almost easier than emailing everyone all the recipes. I really did think that me getting a blog would be one of the signs of the apocalypse. (Hey... people now have RFID credit cards implanted in their arms, so perhaps the end is, in fact, near. But I digress.) I may even update it once in a while. Who knows. Watch this space...

By far the most requested recipe was the PISTACHIO DIP.

http://www.foodandwine.com/recipes/crudites-with-creamy-pistachio-dip

I 'only' used 1 cup of creme fraiche. I also noticed a lot of olive oil breaking out of the emulsion... possibly because I didn't whisk it enough or because of the reduced amount of creme fraiche, but if I were making it again, I might only use 1/4 cup of olive oil. I also added about a tablespoon of the Champagne vinegar instead of draining it all out of the shallots. I made it a day ahead and it kept fine in the fridge.


3-LAYER VEGAN TERRINE:
(adapted from multiple sources)

Make each layer and spread into loaf pan lined with plastic wrap (or something) to make it easier to unmold it. The sun dried tomato layer was the firmest of the layers... If I were making it again, I'd make it the bottom layer (instead of the top) which means you'd need to make it last, since when you unmold it you turn it upside down. Be sure to refrigerate the finished thing for at least 3-4 hours before serving so that it can get firm enough to cooperate when you unmold it. Also... If you make the white bean layer first and set it aside, you probably wouldn't need to wash the cuisinart between layers.

Pesto Layer
2 garlic cloves
1 1/2 cups fresh basil leaves
1 cup fresh Italian parsley leaves
1/4 cup toasted pine nuts
3 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 cup silken tofu (recipe originally called for ricotta... that would be nice, too)
salt and pepper

Blend in cuisinart until smooth. I would add more basil and less parsley next time... I thought this could have been basil-ier. I also added 2-3 slices of toasted white bread to get it to a sturdier consistency.

White Bean Layer
2 15-ounce cans cannellini (white kidney beans), rinsed, drained
thoroughly
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon minced fresh oregano or 1 teaspoon dried
2 garlic cloves, pressed
salt and pepper

Blend in cuisinart until smooth

Sun Dried Tomato Layer
1 tbsp lemon juice
2 tsp sherry vinegar
4-5 slices toasted or stale white bread
1/2 cup walnuts (toasted... bake for about 5 mins at, say, 350)
1/2 cup sun dried tomatoes packed in olive oil (with the oil)
1 garlic clove
salt and pepper

Blend in cuisinart until smooth. You may need to add more bread or olive oil to get your desired consistency.

SMOKED SALMON CANAPE THINGS:

I used the filling from this recipe: http://www.foodandwine.com/recipes/mini-smoked-salmon-croque-monsieur, with a shallot added. Obviously, I didn't dip them in egg and fry them (that, like tempering chocolate, was the "there" to which I wasn't going to go for this particular event). I spread a bit on the cocktail rye, and then added additional grated cheese on top. This amount of filling used up about 1 1/4 loaves of cocktail rye. I also used Parrano instead of Gruyere this time.


I'm happy to share other recipes, too... these were specifically requested.

There. Now I have a blog, too.