I was always grossed out by foods that contain animal skin: roasted chicken, pork rinds, fish steaks, roasted turkey...
However, I adore tofu skin. You might find it called "yuba", too. It can be layered and cooked in a mound for a very meaty texture, or sliced up and thrown in salads, or marinated or braised in shreds in something spicy and tasty. The pan-asian market near me also sells it fresh and tied into little knots, in huge dry sheets, and in little dry twists.
The local farmers' market has a beanery that sells tofu skin that's been cooked in a bit of hot oil and teriyaki, but it is more spicy than sweet, and more chewy than spicy. So it goes: chewy>spicy>sweet, okay? It is so good. It costs too much, but it is lovely.
I need to learn how to cook this stuff for myself. I've been meaning to for years, but the freshly made & recently cooked stuff is really magnificent. Anyone have a good recipe for what to do with dry yuba sheets? I heard that you can wet them, roll/mound them, then steep or steam them in a tea & spice broth, but I don't really have particulars.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Where's My Crafty Dessert?
After some crafting, we got a craving, looked around the house, then made this:
Stove-to-Freezer Oat Chewies
Soymilk or almond milk, whatever
Cocoa powder
Peanut butter, creamy
Sugar
Pinch of salt
Oats, not cut groats, but the rolled kind
Vanilla extract
If you think ahead, first combine some cocoa with sugar in a bowl until the cocoa isn't lumpy.
If not, do this:
Heat some soymilk, then shake in some cocoa and sugar. Try to make it smooth, use a whisk if you have one. (Get a whisk, fool!) get the mix close to a boil, add some glops of peanut butter. Add the pinch of salt if you use unsalted peanut butter. Stir/whisk to smooth texture. Keep it moving & scrape bottom of pan to avoid burning. Taste to check balance of PB, salt, cocoa flavors. When yummy & thickened, turn off the heat, add a splashlet of vanilla, and add a bunch of oats. Should be thick and gloppy with oats, almost coming together as a single mass, sort of like cookie dough. The oats will soak up some of the liquid, but it should not be soupy at all. Let it sit for a minute while you grease a cookie sheet or parchment-paper it, whatever you have 'round for that kind of thing. Use two spoons to drop tablespoons of the oat mixture onto the cookie sheet. Toss it in the freezer to set up, go craft.
Pop the chilled chunks off the sheet and serve after you can't wait anymore. You'll need napkins, and you may have to chill the remaining cookies between servings.
This is also good with some chopped & toasted nuts or dried fruit folded in at the end. Bits of dry coconut or cereal would rock, too.
Stove-to-Freezer Oat Chewies
Soymilk or almond milk, whatever
Cocoa powder
Peanut butter, creamy
Sugar
Pinch of salt
Oats, not cut groats, but the rolled kind
Vanilla extract
If you think ahead, first combine some cocoa with sugar in a bowl until the cocoa isn't lumpy.
If not, do this:
Heat some soymilk, then shake in some cocoa and sugar. Try to make it smooth, use a whisk if you have one. (Get a whisk, fool!) get the mix close to a boil, add some glops of peanut butter. Add the pinch of salt if you use unsalted peanut butter. Stir/whisk to smooth texture. Keep it moving & scrape bottom of pan to avoid burning. Taste to check balance of PB, salt, cocoa flavors. When yummy & thickened, turn off the heat, add a splashlet of vanilla, and add a bunch of oats. Should be thick and gloppy with oats, almost coming together as a single mass, sort of like cookie dough. The oats will soak up some of the liquid, but it should not be soupy at all. Let it sit for a minute while you grease a cookie sheet or parchment-paper it, whatever you have 'round for that kind of thing. Use two spoons to drop tablespoons of the oat mixture onto the cookie sheet. Toss it in the freezer to set up, go craft.
Pop the chilled chunks off the sheet and serve after you can't wait anymore. You'll need napkins, and you may have to chill the remaining cookies between servings.
This is also good with some chopped & toasted nuts or dried fruit folded in at the end. Bits of dry coconut or cereal would rock, too.
Purple Latkes w/ Fuji Chutney Cream
Man, go make this now!
I just had a little crafting night at a friend's and we ate the hell outta this!
The chutney-cream recipe is modified from this: http://www.ming.com/mrecipes/October.html, so go there directly.
The Fuji Chutney
--2 huge Fuji or other non-mealy red apples, peeled, cored, and cut into 1/4-inch dice (approx. 3 cups after dicing)
--splash of lemon juice
--2 teaspoons canola oil
--1 medium onion, cut into 1/4-inch dice
--1.5 tablespoons packed Microplaned (a.k.a. very finely grated) fresh ginger
--kosher salt (two pinches) and freshly ground black pepper (a scant tablespoon is very spicy for some people) to taste
--1/4 cup rice vinegar
--1/4 cup apple cider vinegar
--1/2 cup apple juice concentrate
1. In a large, nonreactive bowl, toss the apples with the lemon juice.
2. Heat a medium to large, nonreactive saucepan over medium heat (use stainless steel, glass, whatever... google non-reactive already! I used a wooden spoon, too. Don't write me to tell me you don't have a wooden pan. You know who you are.) Add the oil and swirl to coat the pan. Add the onions and sauté until the onions are soft, 3 to 4 minutes, add ginger in the last 30 seconds or so. Stir well to distribute the ginger. Add the apples + lemon juice mixture and cook, stirring gently, for 3 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.
3. Add the vinegar and apple juice concentrate and cook until the liquid is reduced by three quarters, about 15 to 30 minutes. The apples seem to suddenly suck up all the juice/jelly at one point. Turn off the heat & correct the seasoning and cool before ladling into a tightly sealed glass jar. Keep in fridge. (This gets more interesting as it sits in the fridge. It is good for a week. I don't know if you actually canned it if it would keep safely on a shelf.)
The Tofu Creamy Part
--7 oz of water pack tofu
--garlic powder (unsalted! Read the label. I know I'm going to hell for not using fresh garlic, but I was in a hurry.)
--maple syrup
--4 scallions, coarsely chopped
--1 cup Fuji Chutney
Get a food processor and toss about 7 oz of drained water pack tofu into the work bowl. Run the blade 'til tofu is creamed. Add a shake or two of garlic powder (unsalted), and a small splash of maple syrup. (Grade B is stronger in maple taste, and you still shouldn't be able to tell that it's really in the finished product.) Blend 'til smooth.
In a bowl, fold the chutney, the chopped scallions, and the tofu creamy stuff all together. Pack it back into a glass and put it in the fridge to get happy & meld.
Purple Latkes
--beets
--carrots
--sweet potato
--onion
--regular potato
--starch
--chinese five-spice (or garam masala or fennel seed)
After a few hours, get a potato pancake recipe, but shred beets, carrots, sweet potato, onion & regular potato, and add a little cornstarch or potato starch to help bind a little more. Add spice. Make your 'cakes. Keep 'em warm in the oven.
Steam some broccoli with a little garlic, or make something else green.
Serve the latkes with the fuji-cream and some regular applesauce, munch on your green food on the side, and do something crafty.
I just had a little crafting night at a friend's and we ate the hell outta this!
The chutney-cream recipe is modified from this: http://www.ming.com/mrecipes/October.html, so go there directly.
The Fuji Chutney
--2 huge Fuji or other non-mealy red apples, peeled, cored, and cut into 1/4-inch dice (approx. 3 cups after dicing)
--splash of lemon juice
--2 teaspoons canola oil
--1 medium onion, cut into 1/4-inch dice
--1.5 tablespoons packed Microplaned (a.k.a. very finely grated) fresh ginger
--kosher salt (two pinches) and freshly ground black pepper (a scant tablespoon is very spicy for some people) to taste
--1/4 cup rice vinegar
--1/4 cup apple cider vinegar
--1/2 cup apple juice concentrate
1. In a large, nonreactive bowl, toss the apples with the lemon juice.
2. Heat a medium to large, nonreactive saucepan over medium heat (use stainless steel, glass, whatever... google non-reactive already! I used a wooden spoon, too. Don't write me to tell me you don't have a wooden pan. You know who you are.) Add the oil and swirl to coat the pan. Add the onions and sauté until the onions are soft, 3 to 4 minutes, add ginger in the last 30 seconds or so. Stir well to distribute the ginger. Add the apples + lemon juice mixture and cook, stirring gently, for 3 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.
3. Add the vinegar and apple juice concentrate and cook until the liquid is reduced by three quarters, about 15 to 30 minutes. The apples seem to suddenly suck up all the juice/jelly at one point. Turn off the heat & correct the seasoning and cool before ladling into a tightly sealed glass jar. Keep in fridge. (This gets more interesting as it sits in the fridge. It is good for a week. I don't know if you actually canned it if it would keep safely on a shelf.)
The Tofu Creamy Part
--7 oz of water pack tofu
--garlic powder (unsalted! Read the label. I know I'm going to hell for not using fresh garlic, but I was in a hurry.)
--maple syrup
--4 scallions, coarsely chopped
--1 cup Fuji Chutney
Get a food processor and toss about 7 oz of drained water pack tofu into the work bowl. Run the blade 'til tofu is creamed. Add a shake or two of garlic powder (unsalted), and a small splash of maple syrup. (Grade B is stronger in maple taste, and you still shouldn't be able to tell that it's really in the finished product.) Blend 'til smooth.
In a bowl, fold the chutney, the chopped scallions, and the tofu creamy stuff all together. Pack it back into a glass and put it in the fridge to get happy & meld.
Purple Latkes
--beets
--carrots
--sweet potato
--onion
--regular potato
--starch
--chinese five-spice (or garam masala or fennel seed)
After a few hours, get a potato pancake recipe, but shred beets, carrots, sweet potato, onion & regular potato, and add a little cornstarch or potato starch to help bind a little more. Add spice. Make your 'cakes. Keep 'em warm in the oven.
Steam some broccoli with a little garlic, or make something else green.
Serve the latkes with the fuji-cream and some regular applesauce, munch on your green food on the side, and do something crafty.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Fuji Forktastic
I haven't made any of this yet, but since I scored a bunch of Fuji apples I wanted some savory ideas, 'cause I'm a bit over the sweets lately.
Here's what I found:
From http://organicathlete.zaadz.com, a beet & apple salad.
(Please visit that site for that recipe & more. I'm only putting it here so that I don't lose it!)
Apple-Beet Salad with Ginger Dressing
Serves 2
1 organic Fuji apple
1 fresh beet (apple-sized)
fresh arugula leaves
Ginger Dressing:
2 TB extra virgin olive oil
1+ TB fresh ginger, grated, juice retained
1 TB raw apple cider vinegar
1 TB raw agave syrup
pinch of sea salt
Whisk together dressing ingredients and set aside. With a very sharp knife, slice beet and apple into small matchsticks. Combine apples and beets together in a large bowl, stirring until apples are uniformly pink from the beet juice. Add dressing and stir gently to thoroughly coat. Serve atop a bed of fresh arugula leaves.
You know I love the matchsticks.
Also, epicurious.com has a dish from a TriBeCa place that sounds tasty. I've halved it.
(The reviews also noted that there is too much sprout, so you may not want to buy so much. Sprouts do not keep very well.)
Again, visit that site directly, please. They have more stuff for you to try, I promise!
cold sesame noodles 66 Bon Appétit | January 2005
From the menu at Vongerichten's TriBeCa restaurant, 66.
Makes 3 small plates.
Jean-Georges Vongerichten
Broth
1/2 cup light soy sauce
6 Tbs. sugar
1/4 cup black Chinese vinegar or balsamic vinegar
1/4 cup unseasoned rice vinegar
1/4 cup Shaoxing wine (Chinese rice wine) or dry Sherry
1/2 cup (packed) fresh cilantro leaves
1/4 cinnamon stick, broken into pieces
1/4 tablespoon coriander seeds
1/4 red Thai chile or red jalapeño chile
Noodles
2 coils bean thread noodles (saifun),* from one 5- to 6-ounce package
2 cups mung bean sprouts
Peanut-Sesame Sauce (see below)
Garnishes:
1/2 large Fuji apple, quartered, cored, cut into matchstick-size strips
1/2 cucumber, peeled, quartered lengthwise, seeded, cut into matchstick-size strips
2.5 green onions, chopped
2 to 3 Tbs. chopped crystallized ginger
Thin apple slices, roasted salted peanuts, toasted sesame seeds
For broth: Bring first 5 ingredients to boil in medium saucepan over medium heat, stirring until sugar dissolves. Mix in cilantro, cinnamon, coriander, and chile. Remove from heat; steep 45 minutes. Strain into bowl. (Can be made 1 day ahead. Chill. Bring to room temperature before using.)
For noodles and garnishes: Place noodles in large bowl.
Add boiling water to cover. Let stand until noodles are soft, separating occasionally, about 10 minutes. Drain; return noodles to bowl. (Can be prepared 4 hours ahead. Let stand at room temperature. Before using, cover with warm water; drain well.)
Pour 1/4 cup broth into each of 3 shallow bowls.
Top with sprouts, noodles, Peanut-Sesame Sauce, apple, cucumber, green onions, and ginger. Garnish with apples, peanuts, and sesame seeds.
Peanut-sesame sauce Bon Appétit | January 2005
Makes about 1/2 cup.
Jean-Georges Vongerichten
1 1/2 tablespoons sugar
1 small garlic clove, minced
1 1/2 teaspoons minced fresh ginger
6 Tbs. roasted salted peanuts
6 Tbs. sesame seeds, toasted
3 tablespoons grapeseed oil or vegetable oil
1/2 small red Thai chile or red jalapeño chile
1/8 to 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
Stir sugar, garlic, and ginger in heavy nonstick skillet to blend. Cook over medium heat without stirring until sugar melts and caramelizes to dark amber color, about 3 minutes. Scrape mixture out onto piece of parchment paper. Let mixture cool and harden, about 15 minutes.
Place peanuts, sesame seeds, oil, chile, and 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper in blender. Break up garlic mixture; add to blender. Puree until paste forms, scraping down sides of jar as needed (most sesame seeds will remain whole). Season sauce to taste with salt and cayenne pepper. Transfer to small bowl. (Peanut-Sesame Sauce can be made 3 days ahead. Cover and refrigerate. Bring to room temperature before using.)
Here's what I found:
From http://organicathlete.zaadz.com, a beet & apple salad.
(Please visit that site for that recipe & more. I'm only putting it here so that I don't lose it!)
Apple-Beet Salad with Ginger Dressing
Serves 2
1 organic Fuji apple
1 fresh beet (apple-sized)
fresh arugula leaves
Ginger Dressing:
2 TB extra virgin olive oil
1+ TB fresh ginger, grated, juice retained
1 TB raw apple cider vinegar
1 TB raw agave syrup
pinch of sea salt
Whisk together dressing ingredients and set aside. With a very sharp knife, slice beet and apple into small matchsticks. Combine apples and beets together in a large bowl, stirring until apples are uniformly pink from the beet juice. Add dressing and stir gently to thoroughly coat. Serve atop a bed of fresh arugula leaves.
You know I love the matchsticks.
Also, epicurious.com has a dish from a TriBeCa place that sounds tasty. I've halved it.
(The reviews also noted that there is too much sprout, so you may not want to buy so much. Sprouts do not keep very well.)
Again, visit that site directly, please. They have more stuff for you to try, I promise!
cold sesame noodles 66 Bon Appétit | January 2005
From the menu at Vongerichten's TriBeCa restaurant, 66.
Makes 3 small plates.
Jean-Georges Vongerichten
Broth
1/2 cup light soy sauce
6 Tbs. sugar
1/4 cup black Chinese vinegar or balsamic vinegar
1/4 cup unseasoned rice vinegar
1/4 cup Shaoxing wine (Chinese rice wine) or dry Sherry
1/2 cup (packed) fresh cilantro leaves
1/4 cinnamon stick, broken into pieces
1/4 tablespoon coriander seeds
1/4 red Thai chile or red jalapeño chile
Noodles
2 coils bean thread noodles (saifun),* from one 5- to 6-ounce package
2 cups mung bean sprouts
Peanut-Sesame Sauce (see below)
Garnishes:
1/2 large Fuji apple, quartered, cored, cut into matchstick-size strips
1/2 cucumber, peeled, quartered lengthwise, seeded, cut into matchstick-size strips
2.5 green onions, chopped
2 to 3 Tbs. chopped crystallized ginger
Thin apple slices, roasted salted peanuts, toasted sesame seeds
For broth: Bring first 5 ingredients to boil in medium saucepan over medium heat, stirring until sugar dissolves. Mix in cilantro, cinnamon, coriander, and chile. Remove from heat; steep 45 minutes. Strain into bowl. (Can be made 1 day ahead. Chill. Bring to room temperature before using.)
For noodles and garnishes: Place noodles in large bowl.
Add boiling water to cover. Let stand until noodles are soft, separating occasionally, about 10 minutes. Drain; return noodles to bowl. (Can be prepared 4 hours ahead. Let stand at room temperature. Before using, cover with warm water; drain well.)
Pour 1/4 cup broth into each of 3 shallow bowls.
Top with sprouts, noodles, Peanut-Sesame Sauce, apple, cucumber, green onions, and ginger. Garnish with apples, peanuts, and sesame seeds.
Peanut-sesame sauce Bon Appétit | January 2005
Makes about 1/2 cup.
Jean-Georges Vongerichten
1 1/2 tablespoons sugar
1 small garlic clove, minced
1 1/2 teaspoons minced fresh ginger
6 Tbs. roasted salted peanuts
6 Tbs. sesame seeds, toasted
3 tablespoons grapeseed oil or vegetable oil
1/2 small red Thai chile or red jalapeño chile
1/8 to 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
Stir sugar, garlic, and ginger in heavy nonstick skillet to blend. Cook over medium heat without stirring until sugar melts and caramelizes to dark amber color, about 3 minutes. Scrape mixture out onto piece of parchment paper. Let mixture cool and harden, about 15 minutes.
Place peanuts, sesame seeds, oil, chile, and 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper in blender. Break up garlic mixture; add to blender. Puree until paste forms, scraping down sides of jar as needed (most sesame seeds will remain whole). Season sauce to taste with salt and cayenne pepper. Transfer to small bowl. (Peanut-Sesame Sauce can be made 3 days ahead. Cover and refrigerate. Bring to room temperature before using.)
Bad Blenders Make for Patent Dreams
In my dream, I was using a blender that was a cross between a strainer and a regular blender. Somehow, the blender container was made of mesh, not solid plastic or glass, and yet the mulched food didn't spray all over the kitchen. The cool thing was that once I'd pulverized stuff with the blades, it was kind of like that french pointy strainer (googled for a chinois strainer: http://www.melissaguerra.com/images/pimages/1011.jpg). I could use a blunt wooden stick to force the mulch through the mesh for a very fine texture. It was magic.
My 1970's blender has about had it. It is not really surprising that I was looking longingly at Vita-Mix style blenders last night before bedtime, huh.
My 1970's blender has about had it. It is not really surprising that I was looking longingly at Vita-Mix style blenders last night before bedtime, huh.
Roux the Curry
Yesterday I made a "classic curry sauce" from that same Indian Vegetarian book I wrote about a bit ago, and it was not what I was expecting. I've made a quite a few Thai curries, and a few Indian curries, but this one really reminded me of the process of making a really dark roux, like for a Cajun or Creole dish. Interesting.
In this curry, you make the usual ginger/garlic/onion paste, and then you brown it in a heavy pan. (The book asks for a non-stick pan. I don't own one, so the cast iron skillet is it, baby.) Then you brown it more, and more, and more, until it is dark brown. It kind of goes gray, first, then slowly browns as you chase/scrape the thick mulch around the pan in circles. This goes on until it is dry. Quite dry. Like grade school paste, but not white. Not even a pretty mahogany, but damn-that's-brown brown. It looks like a mistake, really.
Then you toss in some mulched tomato and cilantro, and the acid and liquid magically deglazes the pan. Repeat the stir, brown, scrape routine until the mass is dark and dry again. Until it looks like an error again, really. Then add some spices, I think. Then add a bunch of liquid and hydrate the dried out stuff to a thin soup. Then reduce again, but just to a thick goo. Now you have the classic curry sauce.
It is dark, my friends, much darker and a little more bitter than what I've had in a friend's house or a restaurant. But it is very interesting and different from the rich-creamy-sweet crap on buffet tables. I like it. I steamed some broccoli and had just a few tablespoons on top last night, and it was complex and curious. A very nice change. You could add some agave, if you like, and I did try that on one side of the dish, but I think I'll have a squeeze of lime next time. But still, a thoughtful sauce...
In this curry, you make the usual ginger/garlic/onion paste, and then you brown it in a heavy pan. (The book asks for a non-stick pan. I don't own one, so the cast iron skillet is it, baby.) Then you brown it more, and more, and more, until it is dark brown. It kind of goes gray, first, then slowly browns as you chase/scrape the thick mulch around the pan in circles. This goes on until it is dry. Quite dry. Like grade school paste, but not white. Not even a pretty mahogany, but damn-that's-brown brown. It looks like a mistake, really.
Then you toss in some mulched tomato and cilantro, and the acid and liquid magically deglazes the pan. Repeat the stir, brown, scrape routine until the mass is dark and dry again. Until it looks like an error again, really. Then add some spices, I think. Then add a bunch of liquid and hydrate the dried out stuff to a thin soup. Then reduce again, but just to a thick goo. Now you have the classic curry sauce.
It is dark, my friends, much darker and a little more bitter than what I've had in a friend's house or a restaurant. But it is very interesting and different from the rich-creamy-sweet crap on buffet tables. I like it. I steamed some broccoli and had just a few tablespoons on top last night, and it was complex and curious. A very nice change. You could add some agave, if you like, and I did try that on one side of the dish, but I think I'll have a squeeze of lime next time. But still, a thoughtful sauce...
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Golden Thread
I keep falling asleep before I post for the day! However, this threatens to disturb my waking hours: in the Kashmir valley of India, some of the most sought after saffron in the world is grown. (I think this area is the origin of Penzey's "Kashmir 'Mogra Cream' Indian Saffron", by the way.) However, the crop is down again this year. It has been declining for as many as 15 years, perhaps more. Why? 'Cause cement factories are cool, and the rain, she don't come like she used ta.
http://www.indiaenews.com/business/20071111/79939.htm has a few details. Worth a read if you care about plants, since you eat 'em.
http://www.indiaenews.com/business/20071111/79939.htm has a few details. Worth a read if you care about plants, since you eat 'em.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Fatty Fat Fat
Ugh. The saffron buns are teaching me that fat is critical. They get dry or too wet, but I want them to be like a challah. Grrrrr. And flax seeds look unlovely. And soy stuff means some folks can't eat them. Ideally, I'll invent a GF soy-free fail-proof saffronsbullar. O Swedish Vegan GF Ghosts, send me a dream solution!
Saffron bun failures were about all I ate today, along with some steamed broccoli. My diet gets very uninteresting when I'm trying to perfect something.
All the different fats have flavor/temp issues that I don't care for, so it must require a blend to get it right. I also haven't made up my mind about how sweet it should be. I did find out that my two best bread flours are better than some off-brand stuff, but I doubt that anyone is surprised by that.
I'm flustered and up to my armpits in s-shaped bread. Something good will come of it.
By Grabthar's Hammer, by the sons of Worvan, saffronsbullar shall be mastered!
Saffron bun failures were about all I ate today, along with some steamed broccoli. My diet gets very uninteresting when I'm trying to perfect something.
All the different fats have flavor/temp issues that I don't care for, so it must require a blend to get it right. I also haven't made up my mind about how sweet it should be. I did find out that my two best bread flours are better than some off-brand stuff, but I doubt that anyone is surprised by that.
I'm flustered and up to my armpits in s-shaped bread. Something good will come of it.
By Grabthar's Hammer, by the sons of Worvan, saffronsbullar shall be mastered!
Monday, November 12, 2007
Lonely Ingredients
This is not ready for the wide world yet, but I'm trying to make vegan Lucia buns in time for Christmas. Saffron is not cheap, and I'm hoping to get some of the science mastered before adding the expensive ingredient. Keep your fingers crossed!
I'm also working on a pannetone (sp?), so you know I must be a bit crazy. But, see, I have a little container of candied citron that looks at me every day and says, "Do you not care for me? Why must I sit here alone?"
So, I hope to have it worked out soon, and then I will share with you. Until then, what do you do with your candied citron?
I'm also working on a pannetone (sp?), so you know I must be a bit crazy. But, see, I have a little container of candied citron that looks at me every day and says, "Do you not care for me? Why must I sit here alone?"
So, I hope to have it worked out soon, and then I will share with you. Until then, what do you do with your candied citron?
D.E.S.S., S.!
Sometimes we learn the most by doing, and sometimes that just sucks. I made a beautiful set of sweet multi-grain large buns today, and they are all going into the trash. This makes my waste-not, want-not heart cry. They would have been very yummy, if I had just remembered this: Don't Eat Spoiled Stuff, Stoopid!
Here's the recipe:
1 packet active or rapid rise dry yeast
2 cups bogus eggnog (warmed to 110º F)*
2 tsp flax, ground
1/2 cup rolled oats
1/2 cup 10-grain cereal
1/2 tsp salt
3 cups white flour**
In a largish pot or bowl, warm the nog, then add the yeast and wait for it to get fluffy. Once the yeast has proved that it is alive and happy, pour the 10-grain cereal in the nog to soak. Sprinkle the flax evenly on top, then stir the whole mess up. (If you like your rolled oats soft, stir them into the goo, too.) Set aside to soak, and keep it covered if your kitchen is cold.
Measure out the flour (and oats, if you didn't add them already), sprinkle in the salt. Give the grains in the goo bowl/pot at least 15 minutes to hydrate, then come back and stir the dry flour mixture into the goo. You can knead it a little right in the bowl/pot to combine, but be gentle. It should be a bit sticky, or very sticky. Cover it all again & set aside until it doubles. It may take more than an hour to rise properly.
Once it has doubled, punch it down. Grab a baking sheet and slap down a layer of parchment/silpat/grease. Go back to the dough and prepare to get sticky. I used a silicone spatula to almost cut the dough into 8 pie wedges, then I used my hands to wrestle out a very sticky wedge or two at a time. I kind of juggled them into something sort of ball-shaped, then dropped them off my fingertips onto the prepared baking sheet. I tried to keep the spacing even, perhaps 2.5 inches apart, perhaps more.
Loosely cover the full baking sheet and set aside in a warm place to rise, or pop the sheet in a cold oven, and turn the oven on as low as it will go. Come back in 2 minutes if your oven is like mine, and if your hand tells you that the air is pleasantly warm in there, turn the oven off and let the rolls almost double again. Check at 30 minutes, but expect that it could take even an hour for the rolls to almost double. It all depends on warmth, moisture, and yeast-happiness.
Gently brush the top of the rolls with some (not over 110ºF) warm nog if you like. It'll make them brown nicely and be a bit shiny, if you are lucky. Sprinkle on seeds or grains if you like. Then put the sheet back in the cold oven and turn on the heat to 350ºF to 375ºF. (This is a casual thing so the baking time and temp will be fudge-able. My oven is crazy, so I just keep an eye on things.) Bake for 20 to 40 minutes, depending on everything. Periodically check the bottom of the rolls for browning, and the top should brown a bit too. Take the sheet out to cool. (I flip the buns on their heads if the sheet is browning the bottoms too much but the bread seems to be not quite done inside, or toss them without a sheet back into the turned-off-but-still-warm oven to dry a little more, but I'm strange and have a crack-smoking oven.) Enjoy with a cuppa.
These would have been great with some extra spices like another pinch of cardamon, allspice, nutmeg or whatever goes in nog, but I used some nog that passed the expiration date and looked a little funny. The rolls tasted good, and the mixed grain texture was perfect, but a few minutes later my cheeks were itchy and pink. On me, this means that the nog was too over-the-hill to use for baking. I'm sensitive to fermenty stuff.
I'll be making them again, but I'll be sure to use the fresh stuff next time. Sometimes the expired stuff just needs to go down the drain.
*Warm water or any bogus-milk will do, but if you use water, you may need to add a teaspoon of something sugary to feed the yeast. Add more sugar if you want a sweet bun. Your store-bought bogus-milk may be sweetened a bit already, so read the label and see if there is brown rice syrup or something in there. Your rolls will not be as sweet as nog-rolls, but you might like them better for sandwiches and other savory applications. If you choose to avoid sweeteners altogether, just be aware that the bread may need more rising time, since the yeast won't be dancing & eating quite as rapidly. You may want to add the 10-grain cereal and the yeast together to the warm water, so the yeast has something to eat, and let it soak longer to proof the yeast.
**If you want to replace some of the white with whole wheat, I think you'll have more success if you soak the whole wheat portion in the goo with the 10-grain cereal, but you should also add some gluten to the recipe, and you may need to add a little water.
Here's the recipe:
1 packet active or rapid rise dry yeast
2 cups bogus eggnog (warmed to 110º F)*
2 tsp flax, ground
1/2 cup rolled oats
1/2 cup 10-grain cereal
1/2 tsp salt
3 cups white flour**
In a largish pot or bowl, warm the nog, then add the yeast and wait for it to get fluffy. Once the yeast has proved that it is alive and happy, pour the 10-grain cereal in the nog to soak. Sprinkle the flax evenly on top, then stir the whole mess up. (If you like your rolled oats soft, stir them into the goo, too.) Set aside to soak, and keep it covered if your kitchen is cold.
Measure out the flour (and oats, if you didn't add them already), sprinkle in the salt. Give the grains in the goo bowl/pot at least 15 minutes to hydrate, then come back and stir the dry flour mixture into the goo. You can knead it a little right in the bowl/pot to combine, but be gentle. It should be a bit sticky, or very sticky. Cover it all again & set aside until it doubles. It may take more than an hour to rise properly.
Once it has doubled, punch it down. Grab a baking sheet and slap down a layer of parchment/silpat/grease. Go back to the dough and prepare to get sticky. I used a silicone spatula to almost cut the dough into 8 pie wedges, then I used my hands to wrestle out a very sticky wedge or two at a time. I kind of juggled them into something sort of ball-shaped, then dropped them off my fingertips onto the prepared baking sheet. I tried to keep the spacing even, perhaps 2.5 inches apart, perhaps more.
Loosely cover the full baking sheet and set aside in a warm place to rise, or pop the sheet in a cold oven, and turn the oven on as low as it will go. Come back in 2 minutes if your oven is like mine, and if your hand tells you that the air is pleasantly warm in there, turn the oven off and let the rolls almost double again. Check at 30 minutes, but expect that it could take even an hour for the rolls to almost double. It all depends on warmth, moisture, and yeast-happiness.
Gently brush the top of the rolls with some (not over 110ºF) warm nog if you like. It'll make them brown nicely and be a bit shiny, if you are lucky. Sprinkle on seeds or grains if you like. Then put the sheet back in the cold oven and turn on the heat to 350ºF to 375ºF. (This is a casual thing so the baking time and temp will be fudge-able. My oven is crazy, so I just keep an eye on things.) Bake for 20 to 40 minutes, depending on everything. Periodically check the bottom of the rolls for browning, and the top should brown a bit too. Take the sheet out to cool. (I flip the buns on their heads if the sheet is browning the bottoms too much but the bread seems to be not quite done inside, or toss them without a sheet back into the turned-off-but-still-warm oven to dry a little more, but I'm strange and have a crack-smoking oven.) Enjoy with a cuppa.
These would have been great with some extra spices like another pinch of cardamon, allspice, nutmeg or whatever goes in nog, but I used some nog that passed the expiration date and looked a little funny. The rolls tasted good, and the mixed grain texture was perfect, but a few minutes later my cheeks were itchy and pink. On me, this means that the nog was too over-the-hill to use for baking. I'm sensitive to fermenty stuff.
I'll be making them again, but I'll be sure to use the fresh stuff next time. Sometimes the expired stuff just needs to go down the drain.
*Warm water or any bogus-milk will do, but if you use water, you may need to add a teaspoon of something sugary to feed the yeast. Add more sugar if you want a sweet bun. Your store-bought bogus-milk may be sweetened a bit already, so read the label and see if there is brown rice syrup or something in there. Your rolls will not be as sweet as nog-rolls, but you might like them better for sandwiches and other savory applications. If you choose to avoid sweeteners altogether, just be aware that the bread may need more rising time, since the yeast won't be dancing & eating quite as rapidly. You may want to add the 10-grain cereal and the yeast together to the warm water, so the yeast has something to eat, and let it soak longer to proof the yeast.
**If you want to replace some of the white with whole wheat, I think you'll have more success if you soak the whole wheat portion in the goo with the 10-grain cereal, but you should also add some gluten to the recipe, and you may need to add a little water.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
American Kitchens= Boring
I'm cooking something right now that ought to be gross, but I fear it might be fantastic.
I thought I'd be writing about other blogs when I started this little daily report, but my own life keeps forcing itself through. Lately, I've been loving books more than blogs. Real, musty, touched-by-other-people books. Tonight I'm cooking napa cabbage in a modified version of bund gobi aur peeli mung dal from Neelam Batra's The Indian Vegetarian: Flavors for the American Kitchen. On a regular day, that title would make me turn away, but on a holiday weekend that steals a day from the standard library hours, I'll take what I can get.
I admit, I'm a snob. The "American Kitchen" part turns me off, even though I am in the Americas and I do have a kitchen. However, I associate that part of the title with bland, overly creamy/meaty meals. My folks made foods from around the world, but they still had some fall-back casseroles typical of the U.S. kitchen that I despised. Just the smell of tuna casserole still makes me feel a bit seasick. The dish that's cooking away right now is full of tumeric, cumin, coriander, garlic, ginger, peppers, cilantro, split mung beans, tomato, (napa) cabbage and my other modification, a bit of dino kale. Nothing like tuna casserole, thank goodness!
The description promises a non-watery dish, which is a bit of a novelty for the average U.S. cabbage dish, so I'm excited. We'll see. The nibbles I've had so far are promising!
I thought I'd be writing about other blogs when I started this little daily report, but my own life keeps forcing itself through. Lately, I've been loving books more than blogs. Real, musty, touched-by-other-people books. Tonight I'm cooking napa cabbage in a modified version of bund gobi aur peeli mung dal from Neelam Batra's The Indian Vegetarian: Flavors for the American Kitchen. On a regular day, that title would make me turn away, but on a holiday weekend that steals a day from the standard library hours, I'll take what I can get.
I admit, I'm a snob. The "American Kitchen" part turns me off, even though I am in the Americas and I do have a kitchen. However, I associate that part of the title with bland, overly creamy/meaty meals. My folks made foods from around the world, but they still had some fall-back casseroles typical of the U.S. kitchen that I despised. Just the smell of tuna casserole still makes me feel a bit seasick. The dish that's cooking away right now is full of tumeric, cumin, coriander, garlic, ginger, peppers, cilantro, split mung beans, tomato, (napa) cabbage and my other modification, a bit of dino kale. Nothing like tuna casserole, thank goodness!
The description promises a non-watery dish, which is a bit of a novelty for the average U.S. cabbage dish, so I'm excited. We'll see. The nibbles I've had so far are promising!
Friday, November 9, 2007
Color Therapy in a Bowl
Stained Glass Roasted Salad
One yukon gold potato, washed & peeled
One biggish beet, washed & peeled
One big soup carrot, washed & peeled
Splash of lemon juice (or something else acidic)
Drizzle of olive oil
Salt
Spice(s)
Two kitchen toys (optional, but helpful)
One cookie sheet
One oven
Never eaten burdock root? There's a special tool out there that is meant just to cut it into tiny strips, but it also works on many delicious root veggies. A kinpira tool is bit dangerous, but all fun and effective kitchen toys are. Same goes for a ceramic paring knife. I've recently acquired one of each, and I found both them handy for this, but any good knife or spiffy processor would do.
I hate to julienne, so the kinpira tool does it for me, and ceramic knife makes quick work of bits that are too awkward for the kinpira toy.
In essence, julienne the crepe outta each veggie, toss 'em in a bowl and give 'em a few good shakes of spice(s) you like (ancho chile powder for me), sprinkle on salt, toss it all together. Drizzle a tiny bit of olive oil and a splash of lemon juice, toss again.
Grab a cookie sheet, line it with parchment (or lightly oil the sheet), and spread the veggies out in a thin layer on the sheet. Throw the sheet in the oven, turn on the heat to 400 degrees F. Let it roast for 10 to 15 minutes & then check to make sure nothing is browned to a crisp. If the edges look like they are getting too dry, stir up the veggies, folding the wet center veggies over the drier edge veggies. Spread out in a thin layer again and put it back into the oven for another 10 minutes or so. Sample a few bits, pull it out of the oven when the tenderness and browning are as you'd like. I like mine pretty chewy, but with a few slightly crisp bites. Season again to taste, if needed.
Serve with something green alongside, or just curl up with a bowlful and a fork. Enjoy the colors and the roasted sweetness, and feel like winter isn't so bad. A side of greens mashed with white beans and a little garlic would be pretty good, too.
(I'm sure that this dish would also be good with turnip, onion, rutabaga, and/or possibly jerusalem artichoke, granny smith apple, cabbage, dark leafy greens... Celery has a very different texture, but I'm sure the roasted flavor would be nice.)
One yukon gold potato, washed & peeled
One biggish beet, washed & peeled
One big soup carrot, washed & peeled
Splash of lemon juice (or something else acidic)
Drizzle of olive oil
Salt
Spice(s)
Two kitchen toys (optional, but helpful)
One cookie sheet
One oven
Never eaten burdock root? There's a special tool out there that is meant just to cut it into tiny strips, but it also works on many delicious root veggies. A kinpira tool is bit dangerous, but all fun and effective kitchen toys are. Same goes for a ceramic paring knife. I've recently acquired one of each, and I found both them handy for this, but any good knife or spiffy processor would do.
I hate to julienne, so the kinpira tool does it for me, and ceramic knife makes quick work of bits that are too awkward for the kinpira toy.
In essence, julienne the crepe outta each veggie, toss 'em in a bowl and give 'em a few good shakes of spice(s) you like (ancho chile powder for me), sprinkle on salt, toss it all together. Drizzle a tiny bit of olive oil and a splash of lemon juice, toss again.
Grab a cookie sheet, line it with parchment (or lightly oil the sheet), and spread the veggies out in a thin layer on the sheet. Throw the sheet in the oven, turn on the heat to 400 degrees F. Let it roast for 10 to 15 minutes & then check to make sure nothing is browned to a crisp. If the edges look like they are getting too dry, stir up the veggies, folding the wet center veggies over the drier edge veggies. Spread out in a thin layer again and put it back into the oven for another 10 minutes or so. Sample a few bits, pull it out of the oven when the tenderness and browning are as you'd like. I like mine pretty chewy, but with a few slightly crisp bites. Season again to taste, if needed.
Serve with something green alongside, or just curl up with a bowlful and a fork. Enjoy the colors and the roasted sweetness, and feel like winter isn't so bad. A side of greens mashed with white beans and a little garlic would be pretty good, too.
(I'm sure that this dish would also be good with turnip, onion, rutabaga, and/or possibly jerusalem artichoke, granny smith apple, cabbage, dark leafy greens... Celery has a very different texture, but I'm sure the roasted flavor would be nice.)
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Heavy Metal Dreams
Oh, I am le tired. ( If you haven't seen it already, you are way behind: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2f8grWE7AOw )
But I come to tell you of the joy of cast iron before I sleeps alls nights.
Cast iron is cheap to buy, compared to any other skillet you'll have for your entire life. It requires no batteries, almost never needs a real washing, is a great weapon for those paranoid first-night-in-the-new-place willies, can go from stove to oven to stove without worrying about plastic or wood handles, adds nutrients to your food, makes great homemade tortillas, can press your tofu or Cuban-ish sandwich, makes crepes, makes perfect hash browns, sears a crust like it means it, gently keeps food warm long after the flame is gone, pops popcorn, sautés, braises, fries/frys/stir-fries, boils, steams, crushes, mashes, splits, and if that isn't enough, looks more like you really cook than all that shiny metal appliance crap you keep lusting after. (No one needs a shiny metal trashcan that shows every speck of dirt, every fingerprint, every curious dog/cat nose/paw print, etc. Really. Unless you like to torture your scullery maid from a distance, do not buy that monstrosity.)
Please, beg your elderly family members to will a cast iron skillet to you and teach you how to care for it before it becomes yours. Or go to a yard sale. Or shell out less than twenty smackers for a new Lodge. Care for it properly, and some young whippersnapper will beg you for it when you get close to your expiration date.
But I come to tell you of the joy of cast iron before I sleeps alls nights.
Cast iron is cheap to buy, compared to any other skillet you'll have for your entire life. It requires no batteries, almost never needs a real washing, is a great weapon for those paranoid first-night-in-the-new-place willies, can go from stove to oven to stove without worrying about plastic or wood handles, adds nutrients to your food, makes great homemade tortillas, can press your tofu or Cuban-ish sandwich, makes crepes, makes perfect hash browns, sears a crust like it means it, gently keeps food warm long after the flame is gone, pops popcorn, sautés, braises, fries/frys/stir-fries, boils, steams, crushes, mashes, splits, and if that isn't enough, looks more like you really cook than all that shiny metal appliance crap you keep lusting after. (No one needs a shiny metal trashcan that shows every speck of dirt, every fingerprint, every curious dog/cat nose/paw print, etc. Really. Unless you like to torture your scullery maid from a distance, do not buy that monstrosity.)
Please, beg your elderly family members to will a cast iron skillet to you and teach you how to care for it before it becomes yours. Or go to a yard sale. Or shell out less than twenty smackers for a new Lodge. Care for it properly, and some young whippersnapper will beg you for it when you get close to your expiration date.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Packrats Eat Sweets, Too
I feel a cookie recipe coming on, perhaps more than one. I've been looking over a few different ones, including a five-second glance at a colorful one in a defunct magazine. Ever heard of "Budget Living"? Apparently it was targeted at folks that like to pinch pennies but like to avoid feeling pinched themselves. I'm sorry I never knew it existed until years after its demise, but like many a life-long penny pincher, I don't subscribe to magazines. Perhaps, oh perhaps, that's part of why the magazine did not do well?
What are some of the annoying penny-pinching, earth-saving, morally-superior (vegan?) things that you do?
I research how to cook carrot leaves, beet stems, potato peelings and other veggie scraps so that I might even really enjoy eating them. I wash and save my produce bags and take them back to the store or farmers' market for the next round of veggies. I save and reuse twist-ties until they crumble into bits. Corks get tucked into the handles of all-metal pots and lids to that I can pick them up without a hot pad. We don't have food-scrap collection here, but I hope it'll show up soon! (Without a yard, composting is just a dream.) I do the freecycle thing, I barter when possible, and I try not to buy new things at all. Textiles go from being clothing to becoming functional cloth bags to becoming rags to becoming stuffing for pet toys or whatever. I'm also the one that waters down the shampoo or dish soap with extra water when it gets low.
Much of this would drive my friends/relatives batty if they lived with me, but I'm just obnoxious this way. I keep thinking that every little bit counts.
How on earth does this relate to cookies?
Well, there are a few recipes in Swedish culture that are great for using up a stash of cake or cookie crumbs. Yep, I save crumbs. All pastry and bread crumbs that are mild in flavor go in a little bag in the freezer, and when I get enough, I make sweets called Dammsugare (a.k.a. vacuum-cleaner tubes). Here's a picture for you from the good folks at flickr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/tifty/114802890/
Now, the person that took that shot also mentions that it can be called punschrulle, but you can make it with or without the "punch" of alcohol. If you like rum and chocolate, try that. I suspect that Frangelico or Brandy & Benedictine would be nicer with the cocoa and almond paste, though.
Here's one of many recipes out there that can easily be veganified. Turn off the oven, since this sweet is 'fridge intensive. If you get tired in the middle of this project, just roll it into balls and roll the balls in chopped nuts, cocoa powder, coconut flakes, cake decorating bits, whatever. (I know you'll just eat eat it with a spoon and pass out in a diabetic coma, but let us pretend.)
This is just a staring point, since your chosen fat, crumbs, sweetener and cocoa will all change the texture and taste enough that it'll be different every time. By the way, this is in U.S.A. goofy measures. Once my new scale arrives, I'll write it up by weight instead.
Vacuum Cleaner Tubes (or Monster Fingers, or Mad Swede Snacks, or Dammsugare)
Chuck about
--1/2 cup of solid fat
into a medium-sized bowl. I'd advise something buttery-tasting that isn't too salty and yes, this sweet will be bad for you.)
Then sift in
--1/4 cup powdered sugar
and add
--3 tablespoons of cocoa powder
Then drizzle in
--1 teaspoon vanilla extract
or some other flavor that makes you happy with nuts and chocolate.
Mix this up until it is creamy and fluffy. If you go too fast at the beginning, you'll make a sugar-cloud mess in the kitchen, so start slowly! It should smell very nice.
Stir in
--1+1/2 cups of crumbs
You'll have to wing it here. Depending on the crumbs & fat, you'll use more or less to make a sandy/buttery paste.
Now you can add the yummy
--flavored alcohol to taste
or a bit of some other extract.
Taste a little and add more crumbs, cocoa, sugar, whatever. Cover it and throw it in the 'fridge for about an hour, or at least a half hour.
At this point, you can roll it into balls as discussed above, or continue on.
Get about
--1/2 pound marzipan
and some
--green food coloring
Mix them together until you have an evenly colored paste. You can do whatever color you want, but green looks nice with chocolate. Slap down some parchment paper and roll the colored paste out into a even thin layer, maybe thicker than 1/8th inch, but thinner than 1/4 inch? You can use more powdered sugar to help roll it out if it sticks, but I like to slap more parchment on top and roll the paper/paste/paper sandwich instead. Trim it into a rectangle and save the scraps to be rolled out again. Put all of the paste aside in a cool place. (I actually use some thin flexible cutting mats in place of parchment, but parchment will be easier for your first time around.)
Now get your chilled crumb mixture and roll it into ropes or cylinders on another parchment sheet. Something of (ick) a fat hot dog diameter will work pretty well. Do this in little batches, or you may go crazy. Cut into lengths of 3 inches or the length of your middle finger. Just try to make them all the same. Put 'em back in the fridge (not touching) if they have gotten melty.
(This next part is easier than it sounds. Go see a picture of the treat, and you'll get an idea of what we're trying to do.)
To figure out how to cut your marzipan sheet to fit your crumb-tubes take two or three of your crumb-tubes and place along the top edge of your marzipan sheet. Place the crumb-tubes almost end to end like an (ick) sausage link and use a knife or pizza cutter to notch the marzipan between the links. Use a ruler or bravely cut straight down about 3 inches on the marzipan sheet. Roll the tube in the marzipan blanket and cut down more if you need more blanket to completely cover the crumb-tube. Make another perpendicular cut to free the little marzipan blanket from the big sheet of marzipan. Unroll it and get an idea of the measure. Do this two or three more times and get an average measure & then cut all your little blankets to those dimensions.
If you aren't sure that your crumb-tubes are all the same dimensions, you can cut blankets for each one individually. Roll all the tubes in the little blankets and place seam-side down. Chill again for a few minutes (not touching) if it all seems too melty. If you are like me, you'll roll out the marzipan scraps to cover any naked crumb-tubes, and then roll the leftover crumb mixture into balls as mentioned above. Chill that stuff, too.
Meanwhile, gently melt
--some dark or semi-sweet chips
over a double boiler or in the microwave. (If you've never done this before, google it. There are plenty of tips on how to do it without scorching.) Fetch your tubes-in-a-blanket and dip the ends into the melted chocolate, about 1/2 to 3/4 inch up both ends of the tubes is fine. Again, take a look at the picture. Place on parchment to cool and harden the chocolate. Chill for longer storage, serve cold or close to room temp.
Make some very strong, very good coffee and invite some friends over to talk and eat these with you. Do not go it alone! I don't want to have to rush over to your place to try to revive you if you eat too many by yourself.
What are some of the annoying penny-pinching, earth-saving, morally-superior (vegan?) things that you do?
I research how to cook carrot leaves, beet stems, potato peelings and other veggie scraps so that I might even really enjoy eating them. I wash and save my produce bags and take them back to the store or farmers' market for the next round of veggies. I save and reuse twist-ties until they crumble into bits. Corks get tucked into the handles of all-metal pots and lids to that I can pick them up without a hot pad. We don't have food-scrap collection here, but I hope it'll show up soon! (Without a yard, composting is just a dream.) I do the freecycle thing, I barter when possible, and I try not to buy new things at all. Textiles go from being clothing to becoming functional cloth bags to becoming rags to becoming stuffing for pet toys or whatever. I'm also the one that waters down the shampoo or dish soap with extra water when it gets low.
Much of this would drive my friends/relatives batty if they lived with me, but I'm just obnoxious this way. I keep thinking that every little bit counts.
How on earth does this relate to cookies?
Well, there are a few recipes in Swedish culture that are great for using up a stash of cake or cookie crumbs. Yep, I save crumbs. All pastry and bread crumbs that are mild in flavor go in a little bag in the freezer, and when I get enough, I make sweets called Dammsugare (a.k.a. vacuum-cleaner tubes). Here's a picture for you from the good folks at flickr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/tifty/114802890/
Now, the person that took that shot also mentions that it can be called punschrulle, but you can make it with or without the "punch" of alcohol. If you like rum and chocolate, try that. I suspect that Frangelico or Brandy & Benedictine would be nicer with the cocoa and almond paste, though.
Here's one of many recipes out there that can easily be veganified. Turn off the oven, since this sweet is 'fridge intensive. If you get tired in the middle of this project, just roll it into balls and roll the balls in chopped nuts, cocoa powder, coconut flakes, cake decorating bits, whatever. (I know you'll just eat eat it with a spoon and pass out in a diabetic coma, but let us pretend.)
This is just a staring point, since your chosen fat, crumbs, sweetener and cocoa will all change the texture and taste enough that it'll be different every time. By the way, this is in U.S.A. goofy measures. Once my new scale arrives, I'll write it up by weight instead.
Vacuum Cleaner Tubes (or Monster Fingers, or Mad Swede Snacks, or Dammsugare)
Chuck about
--1/2 cup of solid fat
into a medium-sized bowl. I'd advise something buttery-tasting that isn't too salty and yes, this sweet will be bad for you.)
Then sift in
--1/4 cup powdered sugar
and add
--3 tablespoons of cocoa powder
Then drizzle in
--1 teaspoon vanilla extract
or some other flavor that makes you happy with nuts and chocolate.
Mix this up until it is creamy and fluffy. If you go too fast at the beginning, you'll make a sugar-cloud mess in the kitchen, so start slowly! It should smell very nice.
Stir in
--1+1/2 cups of crumbs
You'll have to wing it here. Depending on the crumbs & fat, you'll use more or less to make a sandy/buttery paste.
Now you can add the yummy
--flavored alcohol to taste
or a bit of some other extract.
Taste a little and add more crumbs, cocoa, sugar, whatever. Cover it and throw it in the 'fridge for about an hour, or at least a half hour.
At this point, you can roll it into balls as discussed above, or continue on.
Get about
--1/2 pound marzipan
and some
--green food coloring
Mix them together until you have an evenly colored paste. You can do whatever color you want, but green looks nice with chocolate. Slap down some parchment paper and roll the colored paste out into a even thin layer, maybe thicker than 1/8th inch, but thinner than 1/4 inch? You can use more powdered sugar to help roll it out if it sticks, but I like to slap more parchment on top and roll the paper/paste/paper sandwich instead. Trim it into a rectangle and save the scraps to be rolled out again. Put all of the paste aside in a cool place. (I actually use some thin flexible cutting mats in place of parchment, but parchment will be easier for your first time around.)
Now get your chilled crumb mixture and roll it into ropes or cylinders on another parchment sheet. Something of (ick) a fat hot dog diameter will work pretty well. Do this in little batches, or you may go crazy. Cut into lengths of 3 inches or the length of your middle finger. Just try to make them all the same. Put 'em back in the fridge (not touching) if they have gotten melty.
(This next part is easier than it sounds. Go see a picture of the treat, and you'll get an idea of what we're trying to do.)
To figure out how to cut your marzipan sheet to fit your crumb-tubes take two or three of your crumb-tubes and place along the top edge of your marzipan sheet. Place the crumb-tubes almost end to end like an (ick) sausage link and use a knife or pizza cutter to notch the marzipan between the links. Use a ruler or bravely cut straight down about 3 inches on the marzipan sheet. Roll the tube in the marzipan blanket and cut down more if you need more blanket to completely cover the crumb-tube. Make another perpendicular cut to free the little marzipan blanket from the big sheet of marzipan. Unroll it and get an idea of the measure. Do this two or three more times and get an average measure & then cut all your little blankets to those dimensions.
If you aren't sure that your crumb-tubes are all the same dimensions, you can cut blankets for each one individually. Roll all the tubes in the little blankets and place seam-side down. Chill again for a few minutes (not touching) if it all seems too melty. If you are like me, you'll roll out the marzipan scraps to cover any naked crumb-tubes, and then roll the leftover crumb mixture into balls as mentioned above. Chill that stuff, too.
Meanwhile, gently melt
--some dark or semi-sweet chips
over a double boiler or in the microwave. (If you've never done this before, google it. There are plenty of tips on how to do it without scorching.) Fetch your tubes-in-a-blanket and dip the ends into the melted chocolate, about 1/2 to 3/4 inch up both ends of the tubes is fine. Again, take a look at the picture. Place on parchment to cool and harden the chocolate. Chill for longer storage, serve cold or close to room temp.
Make some very strong, very good coffee and invite some friends over to talk and eat these with you. Do not go it alone! I don't want to have to rush over to your place to try to revive you if you eat too many by yourself.
The Intersection of Auto Advertising and Toasted Carbs
Today was a day for leftover cholent, homemade english muffin-oids with earth balance, peanut butter & strawberry jam, pupusas with loroco, refritos, salsa and curtido and later, chocolate pudding. Not the most balanced diet today, but damn tasty.
Cholent was more magnificent today than on the first day. I think I might have to go crazy with caraway soon. That means I'll have to have the cumin surgically removed from my spice-shaking hand, I guess.
The muffin-oids are best when the top is visually divided into thirds by the careful application of EB, PB & SJ. It's like a little BMW logo of delicousness. Then you can get a bite of butter and jam, or of peanut butter and jam, or of peanut butter and butter. I'm partial to the first two combos. I usually don't use EB on my toast, or much of anything, really. I don't miss butter much, since I was always more likely to cook with it than spread it.
Pupusas deserve an entry of their own, but the basic note is that curtido is the ingenue that upstages the masa harina stars. Ah, curtido, the true yearning of my veggie-munching soul.
As for making pudding, it's just a nice thing to do for your BFF, if not your waistline.
Cholent was more magnificent today than on the first day. I think I might have to go crazy with caraway soon. That means I'll have to have the cumin surgically removed from my spice-shaking hand, I guess.
The muffin-oids are best when the top is visually divided into thirds by the careful application of EB, PB & SJ. It's like a little BMW logo of delicousness. Then you can get a bite of butter and jam, or of peanut butter and jam, or of peanut butter and butter. I'm partial to the first two combos. I usually don't use EB on my toast, or much of anything, really. I don't miss butter much, since I was always more likely to cook with it than spread it.
Pupusas deserve an entry of their own, but the basic note is that curtido is the ingenue that upstages the masa harina stars. Ah, curtido, the true yearning of my veggie-munching soul.
As for making pudding, it's just a nice thing to do for your BFF, if not your waistline.
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Perfect for Transitions
The drier and spicier side of India's jumbled culinary map has always been the landscape I prefer, but traveling makes us all better people, right?
Tonight we took a long drive to visit a friend & ended up noshing at a new chaat house. While critiquing the dosa, it occurred to me that chaat, rich in sauces, resonating with savory and sweet notes, and resplendent in complex aromas and textures, is the perfect food for the change in the clock and the seasons. Chaat relies on many of the stored veggies, pulses and grains that we pack away to keep us fed while seasonal crops come and go. Lentils, beans, rice, dried coconut, spices, and oil-packed anything are all you need for yummies that inspire plate-licking. Add carrot, potato, onion, garlic, and whatever has just sprung from the ground, and you'll have snacks that conspire to whisk you away to a place of bliss.
Chaat is also sort of like tapas: everyone gets to try a little of what they like best, there's enough to share but not too much, and the time it takes to eat it is defined by the eater, not by the food. Chaat can be eaten hot, cold, lukewarm, or, as in the case of samosa chaat, all three at once.
Imagine a plate of hot, crisp, samosa pastry broken open to reveal steaming golden potato, dark shining mustard seeds, tender lime-green peas, sprinkles of cumin, and tiny fronds of cilantro. Then artfully decorate the plate with lukewarm, burnt-caramel-colored tamarind sauce and emerald mint-chile chutney. Follow that with creamy, cold, white (soy) yogurt and finish it off with dustings of brick-red ground chile powder. It is delightful to share the varied textures, temperatures, scents and colors with tablemates, though you may be tempted to hoard it for yourself.
Chaat has the familiar components of sleepy comfort food, but the awakening heat of fiery spices. In times of change, there is something so right about enjoying foods that encourage both individuality and companionship, both bravery and familiarity, and swiftness as well as lingering. Do yourself a favor and relish a meal of chaat and chat with an old friend soon, before you get stuck in a seasonal rut again!
Tonight we took a long drive to visit a friend & ended up noshing at a new chaat house. While critiquing the dosa, it occurred to me that chaat, rich in sauces, resonating with savory and sweet notes, and resplendent in complex aromas and textures, is the perfect food for the change in the clock and the seasons. Chaat relies on many of the stored veggies, pulses and grains that we pack away to keep us fed while seasonal crops come and go. Lentils, beans, rice, dried coconut, spices, and oil-packed anything are all you need for yummies that inspire plate-licking. Add carrot, potato, onion, garlic, and whatever has just sprung from the ground, and you'll have snacks that conspire to whisk you away to a place of bliss.
Chaat is also sort of like tapas: everyone gets to try a little of what they like best, there's enough to share but not too much, and the time it takes to eat it is defined by the eater, not by the food. Chaat can be eaten hot, cold, lukewarm, or, as in the case of samosa chaat, all three at once.
Imagine a plate of hot, crisp, samosa pastry broken open to reveal steaming golden potato, dark shining mustard seeds, tender lime-green peas, sprinkles of cumin, and tiny fronds of cilantro. Then artfully decorate the plate with lukewarm, burnt-caramel-colored tamarind sauce and emerald mint-chile chutney. Follow that with creamy, cold, white (soy) yogurt and finish it off with dustings of brick-red ground chile powder. It is delightful to share the varied textures, temperatures, scents and colors with tablemates, though you may be tempted to hoard it for yourself.
Chaat has the familiar components of sleepy comfort food, but the awakening heat of fiery spices. In times of change, there is something so right about enjoying foods that encourage both individuality and companionship, both bravery and familiarity, and swiftness as well as lingering. Do yourself a favor and relish a meal of chaat and chat with an old friend soon, before you get stuck in a seasonal rut again!
Just Cholent!
I'll make it quick: cook up the cholent from Veganomicon, eat some and save some for tomorrow, don't watch the Buffy the Vampire Slayer episodes with the horrible Jamaican/Irish Kendra, but do have a few chocolate chips straight from the bag. It's a good evening.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
I Feed Dead People
While I sat on the train to the Mission, I wrote a dissertation on the food I made for Day of the Dead. Between bouts of motion sickness, I laboriously described the various ingredients and the significance of each included vegetable, spice, or seed to particular members of my dead clan. I thought I had today's more personal entry all sketched out.
Wrong.
I went to the Day of the Dead celebration expecting to see my wacky San Francisco decked out in hot colors, flapping with papel picado, and shimmying to foot-itching rhythms. All of that was there, but I barely noticed. I scrambled in and out of the crowd to try to find things to stand on for a better view, or to get around strolling smokers. I spent a good portion of my time attempting to take pictures in the dark–– a mostly fruitless effort, as you may have guessed. I ran into friends that I hadn't seen in over a year, and we chatted about getting together for a potluck dinner soon. I snapped more difficult shots of altars in the unpredictable light, and then I tried to leave the offering I had brought. I thought the experience would just be kind of sweet and fun.
Wrong.
What really happened wasn't earth-shattering, but it did surprise me in its quiet force.
I hunkered down in the wet, short grass with a scrap of paper and a cheap ball-point pen and started to write a message to my dead. I explained that I missed them, that I found that I still needed them in my life, and that I hoped that they didn't mind that I was bringing them food and drink that they may not have tried or loved much in life: beet greens, collard greens, curry leaves, red bell pepper, sweet potato, sweet corn, leek, fennel seeds, pumpkin seeds, white pepper, black pepper, hot sauce, kosher salt, olive oil, green tea with roasted rice, almond tisane with fruit and spices, and a simple, lovely apple. I figured that being dead might be kind of boring, and that they might like a few changes.
I told them that I wasn't too sure about this afterlife stuff, but if there was another chance for them to feel loved, I'd take that opportunity in any form.
I was sniffling my way to the weepy championship by then.
Honestly, my desire to eat vegan food is something my grandparents may have indulged (if they were still around), but not really understood. I wish I could have the conversation about it with them, though. I wish I could have any conversation with them now.
Offering my grandparents another meal reminded me of all the holidays, graduations, birthday parties and family gatherings that they made special. They regularly hosted the entire extended family in their parade of homes, or got excited to make and share giant pancakes on a weekend morning visit, or flew across the country just to be with us, to be with me. I'd love to argue with them over where I'll get my protein, and laugh and waggle jullianned strips of veggies at them during a debate in the kitchen, and ask my grandmother for a recipe while my grandfather blusters on nearby. I'd love to offer my other grandfather a slice of vegan apple pie and see if he can even tell. I'd love to coax him to eat more vegetables, try cumin, and wear sunscreen.
This celebration was as close as I'll ever come to doing all those things with them.
I finally finished the note and and squirmed my way through the milling humans to a shrine at the base of a tree. It was a typical combination of junky and glorious. Garish plastic flowers, fresh real blossoms, glossy photos of parents, children, siblings, and lovers, 100-to-a-bag-style votive candles, handwritten letters, scraps of cloth, tiny plastic toys and all kinds of small gifts and treats were woven between the waving flames and soft, deep shadows. I settled my offerings carefully among the candles and stepped back to see the shining bits glimmer like sequins in a full, swaying skirt.
The dead are thought to eat the essence of the food, and many people eat the offerings afterwards as a picnic shared with their beloveds. I originally intended to do just that. Instead, I left it all there. Maybe somebody hungry will snack on it later tonight, maybe it will end up in a dumpster. I've no idea. I felt a bit lighter when I made my way back through the streets, and it seemed I'd left more behind than just the food. I'd been hungry when I went into the city, but now I felt something like satisfaction.
Next year, I think I'll do it again.
Wrong.
I went to the Day of the Dead celebration expecting to see my wacky San Francisco decked out in hot colors, flapping with papel picado, and shimmying to foot-itching rhythms. All of that was there, but I barely noticed. I scrambled in and out of the crowd to try to find things to stand on for a better view, or to get around strolling smokers. I spent a good portion of my time attempting to take pictures in the dark–– a mostly fruitless effort, as you may have guessed. I ran into friends that I hadn't seen in over a year, and we chatted about getting together for a potluck dinner soon. I snapped more difficult shots of altars in the unpredictable light, and then I tried to leave the offering I had brought. I thought the experience would just be kind of sweet and fun.
Wrong.
What really happened wasn't earth-shattering, but it did surprise me in its quiet force.
I hunkered down in the wet, short grass with a scrap of paper and a cheap ball-point pen and started to write a message to my dead. I explained that I missed them, that I found that I still needed them in my life, and that I hoped that they didn't mind that I was bringing them food and drink that they may not have tried or loved much in life: beet greens, collard greens, curry leaves, red bell pepper, sweet potato, sweet corn, leek, fennel seeds, pumpkin seeds, white pepper, black pepper, hot sauce, kosher salt, olive oil, green tea with roasted rice, almond tisane with fruit and spices, and a simple, lovely apple. I figured that being dead might be kind of boring, and that they might like a few changes.
I told them that I wasn't too sure about this afterlife stuff, but if there was another chance for them to feel loved, I'd take that opportunity in any form.
I was sniffling my way to the weepy championship by then.
Honestly, my desire to eat vegan food is something my grandparents may have indulged (if they were still around), but not really understood. I wish I could have the conversation about it with them, though. I wish I could have any conversation with them now.
Offering my grandparents another meal reminded me of all the holidays, graduations, birthday parties and family gatherings that they made special. They regularly hosted the entire extended family in their parade of homes, or got excited to make and share giant pancakes on a weekend morning visit, or flew across the country just to be with us, to be with me. I'd love to argue with them over where I'll get my protein, and laugh and waggle jullianned strips of veggies at them during a debate in the kitchen, and ask my grandmother for a recipe while my grandfather blusters on nearby. I'd love to offer my other grandfather a slice of vegan apple pie and see if he can even tell. I'd love to coax him to eat more vegetables, try cumin, and wear sunscreen.
This celebration was as close as I'll ever come to doing all those things with them.
I finally finished the note and and squirmed my way through the milling humans to a shrine at the base of a tree. It was a typical combination of junky and glorious. Garish plastic flowers, fresh real blossoms, glossy photos of parents, children, siblings, and lovers, 100-to-a-bag-style votive candles, handwritten letters, scraps of cloth, tiny plastic toys and all kinds of small gifts and treats were woven between the waving flames and soft, deep shadows. I settled my offerings carefully among the candles and stepped back to see the shining bits glimmer like sequins in a full, swaying skirt.
The dead are thought to eat the essence of the food, and many people eat the offerings afterwards as a picnic shared with their beloveds. I originally intended to do just that. Instead, I left it all there. Maybe somebody hungry will snack on it later tonight, maybe it will end up in a dumpster. I've no idea. I felt a bit lighter when I made my way back through the streets, and it seemed I'd left more behind than just the food. I'd been hungry when I went into the city, but now I felt something like satisfaction.
Next year, I think I'll do it again.
Friday, November 2, 2007
It's What's for Dinner
So, back in the vegan corner of teh Interwebs, a little group of vegetable-loving freaks* got to chatting about NaNoWriMo. With typical anarchist glee, they each decided to take a relatively rule-bound challenge and twist it to serve individual, deeply disturbed, vegan desires.
With that little idea, vegans are poised to take over the food-news universe. It is only a stubby matter of time before VegMoFo, a.k.a. VeganMoFo (that's Vegan Month of Food), starts to snag the glazed-over eyes of the food-blogging world. 'Cause after reading yet another column entitled, "Paula Deen Loves Butter and So Do I", folks start to feel like a little more fiber in the diet might be a good idea.
Some of the Veg/VeganMoFo participants blog every day about what they've made for lunch, some try out a new cookbook every week, some simply strive to post something fresh about vegan munchies whenever they get around to it. Some, like me, are metawriting. With the blessing that is insomnia, I plan to add to this beastie late at night. So don't come crying about how everything is a day off.
*Naturally, just in time for this whole thing, the forum of the PPK is having some technical difficulties. Someday, when the server is happier, that link will work.
With that little idea, vegans are poised to take over the food-news universe. It is only a stubby matter of time before VegMoFo, a.k.a. VeganMoFo (that's Vegan Month of Food), starts to snag the glazed-over eyes of the food-blogging world. 'Cause after reading yet another column entitled, "Paula Deen Loves Butter and So Do I", folks start to feel like a little more fiber in the diet might be a good idea.
Some of the Veg/VeganMoFo participants blog every day about what they've made for lunch, some try out a new cookbook every week, some simply strive to post something fresh about vegan munchies whenever they get around to it. Some, like me, are metawriting. With the blessing that is insomnia, I plan to add to this beastie late at night. So don't come crying about how everything is a day off.
*Naturally, just in time for this whole thing, the forum of the PPK is having some technical difficulties. Someday, when the server is happier, that link will work.
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