So, I made like, three dozen leek and shrimp potstickers. Big whoop. I didn't even eat any yet. They're in the freezer. I'm so not down for delayed gratification.
SO... I decided the leftover 9, count them 9 wonton wrappers needed to be put to use.
This literally took less than 5 minutes.
1a. Put 1/2" of vegetable oil in a cast iron skillet and turn it on medium high heat. 1b. Lay four wonton wrappers out.
2. Mash about ten raspberries with about two tablespoons of berry jam.
3a. Place a dollop of this berry mixture in the center of each wonton wrapper. 3b. Use brute force to marry the wonton edges, because with a filling this wet, there's no assuring a mere brushing of water will hold back the fruity tide.
4. Whip a cup of whipping cream with two tablespoons each of sugar and good cocoa (I like Droste).
5. By now your oil is hot, so drop the raviolis in one at a time.
6. Garnish with powdered sugar (I am out of this, sadly) the chocolate cream, and fresh berries.
Media pairing: Mad Men.
Because it's 9:36 on Sunday so I'm thinking about it coming on in a minute. And because these raviolis are A. Tough on the outside B. Fruity on the inside and C. Italian-American and D. Gone, goddammit, like Sal who I am still mad got written out of the show. I don't forget.
A long, long time ago--so long ago that phone booths still existed and were culturally relevant--I spent a semester abroad, living in an honest-to-God castle in the Netherlands. It was pretty awesome, I'm not gonna lie. My favorite part might have been the email I sent to my parents, informing them that I had signed up for skydiving. "Don't worry," I assured them, "my desire to jump out of a plane over the Swiss Alps has absolutely nothing to do with my performance on midterms."
"If you're going to jump out of a plane," replied my father, "don't you want to land somewhere flat?" Dad tries to think practically about things.
There were many adventures to be had in Europe, and quite a few could be had in the tiny town of Well. I got my feet stuck in the mud by the river! During Carnival, I got groped by a six-foot-five adult man wearing leiderhosen, and while I recoiled in pain (he left finger-shaped bruises on one breast; it hurt), someone on a parade float threw a can of Heineken at my head! I had to eat the cafeteria food!
The first sign that we were going to be served bad food all semester: the Kasteel's dining hall is in a dungeon. Suffice to say that there are some things one should never be exposed to and one of those things is the Dutch interpretation of tacos. Seven years later, I still recoil in horror at the thought of them. The cafeteria was run by a lady named Nellie, who had a restaurant in the area that was supposed to be pretty good. I never ate at the restaurant. The cafeteria food was not good. "What kind of meat is this?" you might ask while staring at an unidentifiable croquette. "Pork," Nellie would respond. "It's pork AND meat." Oh. Helpful.
Many meals, therefore, consisted of the Peanut Butter Cup Sandwich, aka peanut butter and store-brand Nutella on toast. In tribute to the memory of that sandwich - although it has no peanut butter - I have invented a chocolate hazelnut pound cake. And when I say "invented," I really mean "the cookbook from which I got the recipe for the Almond Brown Sugar Pound Cake had variations listed for both chocolate pound cake and hazelnut pound cake, but I can't leave well enough alone, so I decided to combine them."
I will admit that the combination of icing and flash photography is rather unfortunate.
So, follow the above recipe, but using 2 cups white flour, 1 1/4 cups hazelnut flour, 1/2 cup cocoa powder, 3 cups granulated sugar, and omitting the almond extract. I also made a cream cheese glaze instead of the butter glaze.
The boyfriend unit chose to eat his piece with additional glaze, making it look even more unfortunate.
Gromit still wanted some, though.
Conclusion: This is good, but a touch sweet for my taste. It was actually better on the second day. I think I might want to reduce the sugar a little bit. And maybe try the plain hazelnut variation. Since the semester started, I took a couple of pieces to campus to my Official Testing Committee. They both approved.
Media Pairing: This film, subtitled in Dutch, was pretty much the only movie we had access to at the Kasteel. There are still a few folks who know me as Bob Ghengis Khan.
Monkeys eat bananas from the opposite side than we do — try it! Just pinch the banana button! It's much more reliable!
Bananas are much more fun to discuss in a British accent!
Gwen Stefani, despite all her fame and fortune, made sure America's youth knew how to spell the name of the most popular fruit! Now that's not bananas. It's very sensible, commercially appealing, pop philanthropy.
If your banana rings, do NOT answer it. You will go mad. Or... maybe you were already?
The strings that go up and down bananas are called phloem bundles. They deliver phloem, nutrients for the fruit's development. And I hate them passionately.
So... discard them before you slice your bananas for this recipe.
Take 6 ripe ripe bananas. These are ideal. Unriper is ok, but may require more roasting.
Chop and toss with 1.5 cups brown sugar, and roast in a 400 degree oven for 30-40 minutes. Oh motherfoster. That looks good.
Puree with
1 pint half and half 1 Tbsp lemon juice 1 Tsp cinnamon 1 Tsp salt 2 Tsp Vanilla.
It might seem like a lot of lemon juice, salt and vanilla for the amount of banana/cream. Frozen, it will taste just right. I mean, it tastes awesome as slop, but kind of strong.
To egg or not to egg? New York or Philly style? In ice cream, this is a big, overblown question. The bananas do a wonderful job as emulsifiers, so without worrying over how to make a real custard, you attain a custardy texture.
Be sure your mixture is cool before putting it into your ice cream maker, if you use a frozen core style maker as I do. Warm mixture will raise the core's temperature too much and the mix will never firm up.
This is another amazingly good ice cream recipe without any hard work. One I'll be taking to an upcoming ice cream swap.
Media pairing: Oy. The Cavendish banana was bred designed by GOD for human consumption.
You pour a pint of heavy cream into a pan, sprinkle in some black pepper and a tiny bit of salt, and reduce it over low heat. While it reduces, you can boil pasta water/cook pasta and give a very quick steam to some three-inch-long segments of fresh asparagus (which you should be very careful not to overcook).
This is one of those fun dishes that's really easy to time. Pasta water goes on, steaming water goes on, wash and cut asparagus, put on cream to reduce, steam asparagus, put pasta in boiling water. Right before you take the pasta off, add the asparagus and prosciutto to the cream - don't add it too soon or else the prosciutto will cook, which is just weird - and bang! Dinner. Oh, add parmesan or romano or what have you.
I do realize that even the asparagus can't keep this from essentially being a plate of carbs soaked in heavy cream. Which brings me to my next point: there's no way to keep the sauce from being runny, so I recommend serving with a nice crusty bread, and using that to sop up the extra cream. I also recommend serving this with Lactaid. Because being mildly lactose intolerant (which I am) is no excuse. And a salad might not be out of order, either. You know, if you care about your arteries.
Handsome Consort and I have a vegetable garden for the second year now. It's not much, just about a 2' x 25' strip along the side of the house. But along with the strawberries and herbs in the front, and the passionfruit and concord grape vines on the back trellis, we produce a fair amount of edible treats. Or in the case of zucchini, an unfair amount. Mon dieu, what did moi ever do to bring this plague d'courgettes?
This year's veggies so far have been peas (oh, fresh peas are the bessssst), zucchini (Beware! It's calling from inside the house!), peppers, tomatoes, turnips and leeks.
Oh, leeks. Leeks, leeks, leeks. Deleektable, deleekcious leeks. Rather pricey to buy, leeks are a cinch to grow. But mine never got the chance to get quite as beefy and thick as storebought. We've been harvesting them when a little thicker than a thumb. Fortunately, it was determined that they stay much more tender and sweet than storebought this way, so more of the greens can be eaten as-is (rather than used in puree or broth, which are just fine for the stringier tops.)
Also fine for stringy tops: kitty torment!
Fear me, leeks! Fear my teeth that shred! and paws! that kind of ...ineffectually grasp! when I teeter on my back feet!
Sven thinks the leeks are destined to be with him. He's kind of in love with them. Maybe because he's a turniphead. Because actually, this bunch of leeks is destined for a gratin with turnips and crunchy hazelnuts.
And cut into small pieces while your Handsome Consort wrangles with A Ginormous Turnipohedron. Here, I did pieces about 3" long. Next time, I think I'd do only 1" pieces, so they could be laid in the gratin on their ends rather than on their sides.
Since the turnip was such a monster, the usual peel and slice rounds routine was no-go, so bascially the turnips are thin-sliced into little cracker-sized pieces.
Then they all got loaded into a very Alton Brownified steaming rig for about 15 minutes.
The mixture which will enswath the veggies in augratinny goodness begins with two eggs and 2/3 C half and half.
To which I added a teaspoon of garlic, and half a teaspoon each of kosher salt, white pepper and freshly grated nutmeg.
Whisk these together and then add half a cup of finely grated parmesan (or asiago, which I often use instead.)
Layer the steamed turnips in your baking dish and top with the leeks. Pour the cheese mixture over them.
*pat pat pat* There. Now you feel butter, hmm? (I think that leek joke envigorated some kind of zinger gland I didn't know I had.)
Now pop that in the oven at 375 for about 20 minutes, after which you'll top it with the crunch crumb mixture:
Crush half a cup of hazelnuts, mix with another quarter cup cheese and about a cup of good bread crumbs. Plus maybe a tablespoon or two of softened butter.
Crumbs, chief!
Have you seen this, have you heard about this? You buy one of those store bakery french loaves and you eat some of it with brie, and some of it with ascolana olive oil, and the rest goes stale immediately. So you put it in a bag and whack it with a shoe, and viola! Good bread crumbs. Keep them airtight.
So, you top the gratin with the crumb mixture after about 20 minutes, and bake for another 10-15. Then you get this!
Mmmmmmm it's goooood.
It breaks up into a hash of noms like so:
That was my seconds. Very tasty, served with a lemon pepper sockeye salmon. Of course, you know what happens when the blogging project is dinner...
Although I usually have a box or two of the boxed stuff in my pantry these days (it's one of the things the Boyfriend Unit knows how to cook), I honestly don't think I'd ever eaten Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, or Velveeta Shells and Cheese, or any other boxed wonder until college. In college, of course, there was the alarming conundrum of Easy Mac: technically it is edible, but it is not actually a food substance. I ate it anyway, because the dorms were equipped with naught but microwaves.
Grandma's macaroni and cheese is way better. By the way, the abbreviation "mac and cheese" annoys the living daylights out of me. I have no idea why. I also have an irrational hatred of the word "tasty."
I'm going to go into possibly unnecessary detail here, in case for some reason anyone is unaware of how to make a simple cheese sauce. Possible translation #1: the culinarily challenged are reading this. Possible translation #2: I took pictures and am determined to use them.
You decide.
3/4 lb dried pasta - elbow macaroni, fusilli, or shells work well. Here I am using up partial bags of shells and fusilli. 2 tbsp butter 2 tbsp flour 1 cup skim milk Salt and pepper to taste Garlic powder (optional) 8 oz. cheddar cheese, preferably sharp, cut into 1/2 inch cubes. (You can also use shredded cheese, of course, but it's cheaper just to buy a brick and cube it.) If desired, get an additional 3 oz. of cheese and slice it so that you can lay it over the top of the casserole before putting it in the oven. My grandma shops at Sam's Club, and I have never known her to have less than two pounds' worth of cheddar cheese brick in the house at all times. I usually don't put cheese across the top of my casserole, because I always forget to buy either a giant brick of cheese or a second small block...
1. Preheat oven to 350. Put water on to boil. Cube the cheese while you're waiting. Add pasta to boiling water. 2. Start making cheese sauce right after you put the pasta in:
a) Start by making a roux: melt the butter in a saucepan or skillet over medium heat.
b) Whisk in the flour - whisk out all the lumps, very important - and let it bubble until it starts to get thick and a little brown.
c) Slowly stir in the milk, whisking constantly. Keep whisking until the sauce begins to thicken. Then add the cheese cubes:
...and keep whisking until they melt. You should end up with this:
If I'm feeling fancy, I'll add 1/4 cup shaved parmesan, or a generous sprinkling of garlic powder, but really all the seasoning you need is salt and pepper to taste.
Turn the sauce down to very low heat until you've ascertained the state of the pasta. It should be slightly less done than al dente, because it's going in the oven. Drain (rinsing isn't necessary), dump the pasta in a casserole dish, and stir in the cheese sauce. Bake uncovered for 30-60 minutes, or until the top forms a nice, bubbly, slightly browned crust. Or bake covered, if you have other things still to cook and don't want it to get too browned. One of the great things about macaroni and cheese is that you can basically just throw it in the oven at whatever temperature you want and more or less forget about it, and it will still be delicious.
I suppose that if you wanted to, you could top this with bread crumbs (I never do). Or do what my grandma does, and top with additional thin slices of cheddar. I never remember to save sliced cheddar for this purpose. Pairs well with any meats of the midwestern farm family ilk, although I usually just make it as a main dish.
Media Pairing: Cheddar is the single most popular cheese in the world, although rumor has it that Wensleydale is staggeringly popular round here.
Using very, verry ripe mangos makes this recipe, essentially a granita, hold the soft texture of sorbet.
3 ripe mangoes, peeled and pureed (note: SMUSH THEM. WRING the pulp off the skins and pits. Punish!) Juice of 2 oranges Juice of 1 lemon or lime 1 Tbsp Grand Marnier
So, smush all the juicy goodness out of those mangos, strain the pulp, and mix the thick, syrupy juice with the lemon/lime, orange and liqueur.
That's it. Well, spread the mixture on a clean baking sheet and pop into the freezer. Use a melon baller to scoop off once frozen.
Make sure your camera is annoyingly corrupted, for optimal color banding accompaniment, which underlines the bright orange flavor of the blogfood nicely.
I can't resist gimmicky names. But hey, I make up my own recipes, so they have to be called something, right?
I had a flat of perfect mangoes that I paid $7 at 99 Ranch. That's not a problem. The problem was, I love, love, LOVE Thai mangoes with sticky rice. It's possibly the best food in the world. I suspect that many, many people have seen that dish listed on Thai menus and thought it too boring to order. That makes me SO SAD. The warm, sticky glutinous rice, coated in sweetened coconut milk, salty and warm and toothsome, pairs ideally with the cool, tangy mango. Mangoes are great, but I just don't know if there's any better way to eat them.
I considered a lot of things. I had some milkshakes. Yum. But I wanted to create a coconut-mango pairing that was unique, not a by-the-book take on a South Asian classic... and hopefully not using mochi flour, which I love, but isn't worth messing with. So dang sticky.
What I came up with was a pie with a custard layer just like a pumpkin pie's, topped with a coconut milk pudding. This is simple and delicious. The textures are smooth and lovely, and the flavors play off each other in a way almost like mangoes and sticky rice.
I used two frozen pie crusts, unbaked. First, the mango layer:
4 mangoes 14 oz (1 can) condensed milk 3 eggs 1/2 cup honey 1/4 tsp ground cardamom
All into the food processor until evenly pureed.
Then fill the crusts each about halfway and bake them for about 45 minutes at 350 degrees.
Meanwhile, heat two cans of coconut milk and 2 cups of sugar on the stovetop, plus salt to taste. Make this a little salty. I used about a tablespoon of kosher salt.
When the milk comes to a boil, slowly stir in one cup of corn starch which has been mixed with enough water to make an even wet paste. Take it off the heat immediately and stir as it sets up. This will get quite firm as it sets, but the fatty, flavorful coconut milk helps this not taste like nothing but corn starch.
Spread the coconut milk pudding on the cooled mango layers, chill, and enjoy! I topped it with some powdered coconut milk I had on hand, but that can easily be left out.
Another blindfolded feat of culinary improvisation! What can I say, necessity is the mother of invention, and I think it's absolutely necessary to make everyone's birthday cake beyond their heart's desire. So, this month, it was Handsome Consort's turn. (April: Jon's Cheeseburger. June: Trey's MegaChocolate. August: Lindsay's trendy red velvet request... ideas for spicing up red velvet?)
The problem is, Handsome Consort isn't only handsome but also a bit contrary. He's not a big cake guy. Especially in summer, I think he's pretty well devoted to the delicate delights of seasonal fruit. Pies, cobblers, and *horrors, gentle recipe reader!* fresh fruit are his picks. What a maroon, right? Cake 4 lyfe!
Well, I think I came up with a compromise he downright loved, which wasn't too heavy and rich for a party on a summer evening, but could be presented with the grandeur and tradition appropriate to someone's THIRTIETH BIRTHDAY. Oh, my, that's a big one!
So. This cake is three layers. Peach, Blueberry, Peach — The summer's two rarest gems... I think it must be fate that HC was born at the peak of their seasons and that he loves them best. I crossed myself and said a few Hail Julias before venturing into the Vons... but WHEW! The fruit was right on target.
And oh, hey! Weird! The blueberry pints were all the same price and all, but from three different towns. So, California localvore born and bred that I am, I decided to have a little taste-off. The Watsonville berries were the best. The Visalia ones were big but kinda flavorless, and the third ones I forgot about already. Anyway, they were all fine for baking, so into the clafouti they go! Clafouti is a baked fruit custard with lots of fruit and a fairly firm body, in a buttered dish. I guess, to be correct, it's only clafouti with cherries. What I made is, technically *groan*, a flaugnarde. I would never eat flaug or nard anything, though, so this is a blueberry clafouti. Deal. I really wanted to make it in my Dutch oven, but I was concerned it might not match the cake's outside layers, so I made it in a cake pan instead. Here is the recipe I used. It's really very simple. It looks a-like-a DEES:
The other two layers would be peach upside-down cake, with plenty of peachy goodness. So, I cut the peaches in sixths to be sure they were fat slices, and laid melted butter, brown sugar, and the fruit into two pans.
Then I divided the cake batter and spread it onto both peach pans.
To tell the truth, I think this recipe came out too heavy. I'm not sure why. I would have liked a fluffier cake. But here's how they looked — beautiful!
The scary part was DEFINITELY inverting the clafouti layer. Whew!
Then, number three, right on top. I was glad I used the same pan for all three, so they were sure to fit prettily.
For icing, I made a simple whipped cream with vanilla and brown sugar, for a light tasting topping that would pair well with the baked fruit.
Old-fashioned birthday charm, full of fresh delicious summer fruit, and one of a kind. I'm proud of it. It went over very well, indeed, and I think Handsome Consort was the biggest fan, which is the reward I was after. XOXO.
The media pairing? Well, we happend to celebrate HC's birthday by watching a movie from his birth year: Forbidden Zone! Woooo-WEEEEE-Oooooo!!!!
Lately I've been getting CSA Boxes from the South Central Farmers' Collective (whose farm is actually in Bakersfield). The CSA box is simultaneously an economical source of organic, seasonal, fresh produce for those of us who can't have gardens, and a good way to feel better about yourself in a vaguely liberal, acknowledgement-of-social-privilege sort of way. It's like the Liz Lemonism of produce shopping, if Liz Lemon ate vegetables. The CSA box is also a fun adventure, because you don't know exactly what you're going to get. Sometimes you don't know even after you get home and open the box. Most of it is kale and squash, but what kind of kale and squash? It's an adventure! And since most of it is summer squash, it's exactly like having your own garden. What the hell am I supposed to do with all this squash?!
I think my favorite random box inclusion so far has been the single, tiny eggplant.
That got turned into a sort of ratatouille, along with some of the box's cherry tomatoes, zucchini, and yellow squash.
Which was delicious, if possibly inauthentic.
Last week's CSA box included, among other things, seven cucumbers (have only used one so far), three yellow squash, two pattypan squash, two Rond de Nice squash, and two zucchini. One of the zucchini was normal-sized, the other was approximately the size of my dog. I hadn't made zucchini bread in a while, so I decided to do that. This recipe is vaguely adapted from The Joy of Cooking. I'm not entirely thrilled with the texture - it's a bit fally-aparty - but maybe I just didn't squeeze enough moisture from my shredded zucchini.
I had to adapt. The Joy of Cooking recipe calls for two cups of shredded zucchini.
And I had six. THIS IS ONLY TWO ZUCCHINI.
Makes 2 big loaves. Or halve everything.
2 1/2 cups white flour 3/4 cup whole wheat flour 3 tsp. baking soda 3 tsp. baking powder 3/4 tsp. cinnamon 3/4 tsp. ground ginger 1 1/2 tsp. salt 2 cups sugar 5 large eggs, beaten 3/4 cup vegetable oil 3/4 cup applesauce, unsweetened Juice of 1/2 lemon 6 cups grated zucchini, squeezed of excess moisture 1 cup walnut pieces (optional)
1. In a large bowl, combine flours, baking soda, baking powder, cinnamon, ginger, and salt. 2. In another large bowl, combine sugar, eggs, oil, applesauce, and lemon juice. Mix thoroughly. 3. Combine dry and wet ingredients and stir until just combined. 4. Add grated zucchini, stir to combine. 5. Add nuts, if desired.
Pour into two greased loaf pans. Bake at 350 for 45-55 minutes or until done.
Notice that there is a lot of batter here. I recommend putting the loaf pans on a cookie sheet to catch potential drips.
Aaaaand done:
This recipe has been approved by the post-production crew of Hotel Transylvania.
Finally, I would like to take a moment to ask a question that's been vexing me for some time:
What idiot designed my kitchen and decided it was a good idea to put an outlet directly above the sink? Do you know how hard it is to keep cords from draping themselves in there?
Edited to add the media pairing (this was my idea, why do I always forget to do it?): Iron Chef America's Battle Zucchini.
