I am a cheesecake fiend. I love it dearly, in (almost) all its varieties. I will eat cheesecake for breakfast, mid-morning snack, lunch, twosies, afternoon tea, dinner, and as a midnight snack.
Strangely, for someone so obsessed with cheesecake, I'd never tried to make my own until a few days ago. This one was made for a party, and it disappeared so quickly that I was reminded once again of the singular magic of a well-made cheesecake: it vanishes like no other dessert you'll ever meet.
Anyway, I think that for a first effort at cheesecake, this was a more than respectable effort. I'll probably come back to it at Thanksgiving, for an alternative to (or, ooh, alongside) pumpkin pie.
Pumpkin Cheesecake
For the crust:
3/4 cup graham cracker crumbs, crushed
3/4 cup ginger snap crumbs, crushed
5 tbsp butter, melted
For the filling:
1 cup sugar
3 (8 oz) packages of softened cream cheese (Avoid the low fat stuff. It's cheesecake; it's a dessert. You're eating it for the taste, not for the low calorie count. So ditch the diet and get the stuff that tastes good)
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 tsp whiskey or bourbon
1 cup canned pumpkin (NOT sweetened, NOT spiced, just regular pumpkin with no additives)
3 eggs
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp allspice
1/2 tsp ground ginger
Begin by preheating the oven to 350F.
Make the crust by combining the graham cracker and ginger snap crumbs with the melted butter in a medium bowl. Stir them until they're all coated with the butter, in crumbly little bits. Locate the springform pan or pie dish that you're using to bake the cheesecake in. The springform is optimal in theory, but I don't own one, so I used a deep pie dish, which turned out fine. Press the crumbs evenly into your dish. They shouldn't reach all the way up the sides, this is to be expected. Aim for a crust that ends 2/3 of the way up the sides of your dish. Bake the crust in the oven for 5 minutes, then remove it and set aside until the filling is ready.
In a large mixing bowl combine the cream cheese, sugar, vanilla, and whiskey, and beat them with an electric mixer until smooth. Add the pumpkin, the eggs, and all the spices, and continue beating. This is the important part: turn the mixer up to its second or third highest setting, the one for cake icing or some similarly thick substance. Let it run on this high setting for 2 full minutes. Why? Because this inflates the eggs and will make your cheesecake light and fluffy. Once you've properly mixed your filling, pour it immediately into the pan with the crust and get the whole thing into the oven as quickly and gently as possible (you don't want to agitate out the air bubbles).
Bake for 60-70 minutes. The key to proper cheesecake is to reove it from the oven BEFORE the center is completely set. There should still be a reasonable jiggle to the middle of the cheesecake when you remove it from the oven, though the sides should be set. This is key to the texture. Let your cheesecake sit out to cool to room temperature, then refridgerate it for at least 4 hours before serving. Overnight is best, but if you're like me you don't plan that far ahead.
Serve alone, or use a pint of fresh whipping cream and some sugar to make homemade whipped cream to put on top. Don't bother with the storebought stuff (the texture is all wrong, and the taste always seemed faintly chemical to me), but if you're willing to put in three minutes of elbow grease, the silky-heavy texture of the homemade stuff is a good complement to the cheesecake.
Servings: 8-10
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
Cabbage Soup
I'm catching up on stuff I've made over the past week or so, hence the number of recipe posts tonight.
I still have half a pot of this soup in the fridge, because it makes a big pot of soup. And I used to hate cabbage, so you'd think I wouldn't be too thrilled at the idea of a giant pot of cabbage soup in my fridge. But I couldn't be happier. I think cabbage soup has had a rough time of it. Some evil diet company seized on the idea way back when, and ever since people have associated it with self-torture, when in reality it's anything but. Cabbage soup originally started out as a way to make the tough cabbage stems into something tender and wonderful, and it still suits that purpose remarkably well.
In a way, this is one of my 'trash' soups: made of a little of this and a little of that, just whatever I had lying around in the fridge when I went to make soup. But in other ways, it's a very converted effort at a particular purpose. Because I don't ordinarily have cabbage sitting around my my fridge (remember how I said I hated it?). I had to buy cabbage especially for this soup, and I was glad I did. It's a very green soup, very fresh, and perfect for fall. It's warm and comforting, without being heavy or tough to digest. Best of all, it turned cabbage from something slimy and gross into something delicate and sweet, something that practically melts on your tongue and dances beautifully with the peppery undertone in the broth here. I love cabbage like this, and that's something I never thought I'd say.
Cabbage Soup
1 medium or large napa cabbage, washed
4 medium sized leeks, washed
1 bunch celery
1 large sweet onion (Videlia or mayan sweet)
1 1/2 tbsp unsalted butter
80 oz chicken stock or chicken broth
1 1/2 tbsp Better Than Boullion
Pepper
Salt
Begin by chopping the onion and adding it to a very large soup pot, along with the butter. Turn the pot on over medium heat, and let the butter melt and begin to caramelize the onion. While this is happening, chop your leeks. When the onion achieves a light brown color and smells sweet and tender, add the leeks and stir to coat them in the butter. Let the leeks soften and wilt while you chop the celery. Add the celery one stem at a time as you get it chopped, and let it be softening as you go.
Once the celery is all chopped and has had a chance to soften just a little with the other veggies, add your broth or stock to the pot. Chop your cabbage into quarters, then chop each quarter into thin ribbons and add these to the soup. Finish by adding the Better Than Boullion, and a generous dash of pepper. Tasting the soup is the best guide to how much pepper, but I tend to go heavy on this, because the pepper amps up the vegetable-y flavours in the soup and adds pizzazz. Bring the whole pot to a boil (it's probably a very full pot after all this, so keep an eye on it to make sure it doesn't bubble over), then cover it, turn it down to a simmer, and let it cook for a hour or so. Once the cabbage is melting-soft and the flavours have had a chance to meld and get to know each other, dish it out into serving bowls and eat.
Servings: 10-12, maybe more
I still have half a pot of this soup in the fridge, because it makes a big pot of soup. And I used to hate cabbage, so you'd think I wouldn't be too thrilled at the idea of a giant pot of cabbage soup in my fridge. But I couldn't be happier. I think cabbage soup has had a rough time of it. Some evil diet company seized on the idea way back when, and ever since people have associated it with self-torture, when in reality it's anything but. Cabbage soup originally started out as a way to make the tough cabbage stems into something tender and wonderful, and it still suits that purpose remarkably well.
In a way, this is one of my 'trash' soups: made of a little of this and a little of that, just whatever I had lying around in the fridge when I went to make soup. But in other ways, it's a very converted effort at a particular purpose. Because I don't ordinarily have cabbage sitting around my my fridge (remember how I said I hated it?). I had to buy cabbage especially for this soup, and I was glad I did. It's a very green soup, very fresh, and perfect for fall. It's warm and comforting, without being heavy or tough to digest. Best of all, it turned cabbage from something slimy and gross into something delicate and sweet, something that practically melts on your tongue and dances beautifully with the peppery undertone in the broth here. I love cabbage like this, and that's something I never thought I'd say.
Cabbage Soup
1 medium or large napa cabbage, washed
4 medium sized leeks, washed
1 bunch celery
1 large sweet onion (Videlia or mayan sweet)
1 1/2 tbsp unsalted butter
80 oz chicken stock or chicken broth
1 1/2 tbsp Better Than Boullion
Pepper
Salt
Begin by chopping the onion and adding it to a very large soup pot, along with the butter. Turn the pot on over medium heat, and let the butter melt and begin to caramelize the onion. While this is happening, chop your leeks. When the onion achieves a light brown color and smells sweet and tender, add the leeks and stir to coat them in the butter. Let the leeks soften and wilt while you chop the celery. Add the celery one stem at a time as you get it chopped, and let it be softening as you go.
Once the celery is all chopped and has had a chance to soften just a little with the other veggies, add your broth or stock to the pot. Chop your cabbage into quarters, then chop each quarter into thin ribbons and add these to the soup. Finish by adding the Better Than Boullion, and a generous dash of pepper. Tasting the soup is the best guide to how much pepper, but I tend to go heavy on this, because the pepper amps up the vegetable-y flavours in the soup and adds pizzazz. Bring the whole pot to a boil (it's probably a very full pot after all this, so keep an eye on it to make sure it doesn't bubble over), then cover it, turn it down to a simmer, and let it cook for a hour or so. Once the cabbage is melting-soft and the flavours have had a chance to meld and get to know each other, dish it out into serving bowls and eat.
Servings: 10-12, maybe more
Hash Browns
I had these for supper tonight.
Sometimes I just want starch. I posted my easy potato chip recipe when I was on one of these starch binges, and now I'm posting one of my other favorite things to do to an innocent potato. I just can't leave well enough alone.
The thing about hash browns is that they're addictive. They're also kind of ubiquitous: appropriate for breakfast, lunch, supper, or a midnight snack. They go well with cheese, sour cream, even yogurt. Sometime I'll crack an egg on top of them as they finish cooking, to better imitate the throw-it-all-together-and-fry aesthetic of the greasy spoon diners of my youth. Because that's what hash browns are, at their heart: they're a throwback to the days when I was very little, and my dad would take me to breakfast bars run by ancient old short-order cooks who knew all the customers' names by heart, and who knew what you were ordering before you'd sat down at your regular stool. They remind me of giant flat-top griddles with a coffee-pot that lived on one corner of them, a row of hamburger molds across the back for shaping the fried eggs, and a trough across the front for all the scraps and scrapings, so someone could take them home to their pigs at the end of the morning shift.
Hash browns are meant to be greasy, crispy, and satisfying, and these are. Almost. I generally try not to murder my arteries, so I cut out most of the grease by using non-stick pans. They aren't made on a flat-top griddle, because all I've got it my home stove, but they are crispy and satisfying. I'm no ancient short-order cook, so I haven't quite mastered the authentic je ne sais quoi that comes with wielding a spatula for fifty years in front of one of those griddles. But they're still damn good, and they're fast comfort food for me.
Hash Browns
1 russett potato
1/2 tsp olive oil
Cheddar cheese
Salt
Pepper
Optional: Eggs for frying
Use the food processor to grate the potato. Take the potato-bits, and press them between two layers of paper towels to dry them out a bit. If your towels are soaked and the potato still seems really wet, you may want to repeat this process a few times.
Once you've dried your potato appropriately, set a large saute pan over a burner on medium high. Add the potato gratings in piles (I usually do four or five medium-sized piles per potato). Depending on the size of your pan, you may not be able to do the whole thing at once: the goal is to keep the piles pretty well separate from each other, so that they don't steam each other as they cook. Use a spatula to smoosh the piles flat, into hash brown shaped pancakes. Salt these to taste. Let them cook for about two minutes, then add the olive oil and swirl the pan to get it under all the hash browns. Let the hash browns continue to cook, smushing them to the pan occasionally to help them sear, until the pan-side of the hash browns is a deep golden color. By this time you should be able to flip them without them falling apart, so flip them each, and cook the other side in the same manner until it too is deep crispy brown.
Remove the hash browns to a plate, and grate cheddar cheese on top of them to finish them off.
Alternate way to finish off hash browns: once you've completely crisped both sides of your hash brown, crack an egg over the top of it and fry the egg on and into the hash brown. You get an egg that's really satisfyingly crunchy, and if you add cheese on top of the egg, it's kind of the perfect breakfast all in one little pile.
Servings: 1-2, depending mostly on the size of your potato
Sometimes I just want starch. I posted my easy potato chip recipe when I was on one of these starch binges, and now I'm posting one of my other favorite things to do to an innocent potato. I just can't leave well enough alone.
The thing about hash browns is that they're addictive. They're also kind of ubiquitous: appropriate for breakfast, lunch, supper, or a midnight snack. They go well with cheese, sour cream, even yogurt. Sometime I'll crack an egg on top of them as they finish cooking, to better imitate the throw-it-all-together-and-fry aesthetic of the greasy spoon diners of my youth. Because that's what hash browns are, at their heart: they're a throwback to the days when I was very little, and my dad would take me to breakfast bars run by ancient old short-order cooks who knew all the customers' names by heart, and who knew what you were ordering before you'd sat down at your regular stool. They remind me of giant flat-top griddles with a coffee-pot that lived on one corner of them, a row of hamburger molds across the back for shaping the fried eggs, and a trough across the front for all the scraps and scrapings, so someone could take them home to their pigs at the end of the morning shift.
Hash browns are meant to be greasy, crispy, and satisfying, and these are. Almost. I generally try not to murder my arteries, so I cut out most of the grease by using non-stick pans. They aren't made on a flat-top griddle, because all I've got it my home stove, but they are crispy and satisfying. I'm no ancient short-order cook, so I haven't quite mastered the authentic je ne sais quoi that comes with wielding a spatula for fifty years in front of one of those griddles. But they're still damn good, and they're fast comfort food for me.
Hash Browns
1 russett potato
1/2 tsp olive oil
Cheddar cheese
Salt
Pepper
Optional: Eggs for frying
Use the food processor to grate the potato. Take the potato-bits, and press them between two layers of paper towels to dry them out a bit. If your towels are soaked and the potato still seems really wet, you may want to repeat this process a few times.
Once you've dried your potato appropriately, set a large saute pan over a burner on medium high. Add the potato gratings in piles (I usually do four or five medium-sized piles per potato). Depending on the size of your pan, you may not be able to do the whole thing at once: the goal is to keep the piles pretty well separate from each other, so that they don't steam each other as they cook. Use a spatula to smoosh the piles flat, into hash brown shaped pancakes. Salt these to taste. Let them cook for about two minutes, then add the olive oil and swirl the pan to get it under all the hash browns. Let the hash browns continue to cook, smushing them to the pan occasionally to help them sear, until the pan-side of the hash browns is a deep golden color. By this time you should be able to flip them without them falling apart, so flip them each, and cook the other side in the same manner until it too is deep crispy brown.
Remove the hash browns to a plate, and grate cheddar cheese on top of them to finish them off.
Alternate way to finish off hash browns: once you've completely crisped both sides of your hash brown, crack an egg over the top of it and fry the egg on and into the hash brown. You get an egg that's really satisfyingly crunchy, and if you add cheese on top of the egg, it's kind of the perfect breakfast all in one little pile.
Servings: 1-2, depending mostly on the size of your potato
Honey Oatmeal Bread
Okay, before you do anything else, go check your yeast. Because if you, like me, tend to neglect the use-by date on yeast packages, you, like me, may get burned with flat bread. It turns out the two-year-old yeast doesn't rise, not at all. And so the first time I made this bread, it turned out to be, well, a brick.
But the second time (this time with fresh yeast) turned out very well indeed. And so here's the recipe. It produces a light, very-faintly-sweet loaf, with a crunchy crust and gorgeous soft crumb. Plus, like all homemade breads, it smells divine while it's cooking. That might be my favorite part of breadmaking: the smell. Sure, it takes a little elbow-grease for the kneading, but when your house smells like bread for the next three days, you tend to forget the effort involved. Just remember to check on the yeast before you start.
Honey Oatmeal Bread
2 cups boiling water
1 cup rolled oats
1/2 cup honey
2 tablespoons butter
2 teaspoons salt
1 (.25 ounce) package active dry yeast (I used the extra-active variety. If you use regular, double all the rising times I give here.)
4 cups bread flour plus extra for kneading
In a large mixing bowl, combine boiling water, oats, honey, butter and salt. Let stand for 15-20 minutes, then add the extra-active yeast. Add 2 cups of flour; mix well. Stir in the remaining flour, 1/2 cup at a time, beating well after each addition. When the dough has pulled together, turn it out onto a lightly floured surface and knead until smooth and elastic, about 20 minutes. If you're like me, the dough may still be sticky at the beginning of this kneading process. Just keep adding flour as you knead until it stops sticking to everything that touches it, and achieves a proper bread-dough texture. It'll get there eventually. My loaves took anywhere from an additional 1/2 cup of flour to 1 1/2 cups.
Spray cooking spray over a large bowl, place the dough in the bowl and cover it with a damp towel. Let the dough rise in a warm place until doubled in volume. I used my oven for this purpose: use turn it on to as low as it will go, and turn it off again once it hits 150F or so. It will cool down a little, and this will give you a warm dark place for your dough to do its rising in peace. My dough took about 40 minutes for this first rise.
Deflate the dough and turn it out onto a lightly floured surface. Use your kitchen shears to cut the dough into two equal pieces and form loaves. Place the loaves into two lightly greased 9x5 inch loaf pans. Cover them with your damp towel, stick them back in your warm place, and let rise again until they once more double in volume. Mine took 20 minutes this second time. Toward the end of this rising, go ahead and preheat oven to 375F. Obviously, you have to remove the loaves from the oven if you were using it as a rising spot to do the preheating. It won't hurt them at all, just leave them covered with the towel until you're ready to cook them.
Once they've risen, bake the bread at 375F for about 25-30 minutes or until the top is golden brown and the bottom of the loaf sounds hollow when tapped. Remove loaves from pans and sit them on a wire rack to cool before attempting to cut them. I know they smell tempting when they're hot, but they're rather fragile before they cool, and you risk squishing them if you try to cut them too early, so resist for another 15 minutes or so to give them a chance to firm up a little first.
Servings: 2 loaves, or about 20 slices
But the second time (this time with fresh yeast) turned out very well indeed. And so here's the recipe. It produces a light, very-faintly-sweet loaf, with a crunchy crust and gorgeous soft crumb. Plus, like all homemade breads, it smells divine while it's cooking. That might be my favorite part of breadmaking: the smell. Sure, it takes a little elbow-grease for the kneading, but when your house smells like bread for the next three days, you tend to forget the effort involved. Just remember to check on the yeast before you start.
Honey Oatmeal Bread
2 cups boiling water
1 cup rolled oats
1/2 cup honey
2 tablespoons butter
2 teaspoons salt
1 (.25 ounce) package active dry yeast (I used the extra-active variety. If you use regular, double all the rising times I give here.)
4 cups bread flour plus extra for kneading
In a large mixing bowl, combine boiling water, oats, honey, butter and salt. Let stand for 15-20 minutes, then add the extra-active yeast. Add 2 cups of flour; mix well. Stir in the remaining flour, 1/2 cup at a time, beating well after each addition. When the dough has pulled together, turn it out onto a lightly floured surface and knead until smooth and elastic, about 20 minutes. If you're like me, the dough may still be sticky at the beginning of this kneading process. Just keep adding flour as you knead until it stops sticking to everything that touches it, and achieves a proper bread-dough texture. It'll get there eventually. My loaves took anywhere from an additional 1/2 cup of flour to 1 1/2 cups.
Spray cooking spray over a large bowl, place the dough in the bowl and cover it with a damp towel. Let the dough rise in a warm place until doubled in volume. I used my oven for this purpose: use turn it on to as low as it will go, and turn it off again once it hits 150F or so. It will cool down a little, and this will give you a warm dark place for your dough to do its rising in peace. My dough took about 40 minutes for this first rise.
Deflate the dough and turn it out onto a lightly floured surface. Use your kitchen shears to cut the dough into two equal pieces and form loaves. Place the loaves into two lightly greased 9x5 inch loaf pans. Cover them with your damp towel, stick them back in your warm place, and let rise again until they once more double in volume. Mine took 20 minutes this second time. Toward the end of this rising, go ahead and preheat oven to 375F. Obviously, you have to remove the loaves from the oven if you were using it as a rising spot to do the preheating. It won't hurt them at all, just leave them covered with the towel until you're ready to cook them.
Once they've risen, bake the bread at 375F for about 25-30 minutes or until the top is golden brown and the bottom of the loaf sounds hollow when tapped. Remove loaves from pans and sit them on a wire rack to cool before attempting to cut them. I know they smell tempting when they're hot, but they're rather fragile before they cool, and you risk squishing them if you try to cut them too early, so resist for another 15 minutes or so to give them a chance to firm up a little first.
Servings: 2 loaves, or about 20 slices
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Potato Chips
I try to eat healthy, while refusing to sacrifice anything in the area of taste. I am generally very good at finding ways to cut excess fat, sugar, etc out of recipes, and I've trained my taste buds so that I no longer eat ice cream very often, since it now tastes too sweet to me.
Still, in spite of my best intentions, sometimes I just crave potato chips. As in, 'can't do without' cravings. Previously, I would ignore these cravings as best I could, or try to satisfy them with carrots, which, while crunchy, somehow lack that satisfyingly starchy element one gets exclusively from potatoes. What's a health-conscious cook to do?
Make her own, of course! I stumbled on a recipe from fat free vegan kitchen for fast, easy microwave potato chips, which involve no oil whatsoever, and I now reproduce it here in its entirety, along with some tips that I've picked up for better chips.
Potato Chips
1 russet potato (This method might also work with sweet potatoes and other root starches, like rutabagas or turnips, but I haven't tried it yet.)
Salt
The key to making your own potato chips is that miracle of kitchen inventions, the mandoline. Seriously, if you don't have one, get one. In this case, set your mandoline to its thinnest setting and slice your potato with it. If you use the second-thinnest setting, you will end up with very, very thick potato chips, which some people like (myself included), but which take forever to cook.
On your microwave's glass turntable, lay down a piece of parchment and fold the corners under so that the table can still turn. Arrange your potato chips in a single layer on the parchment. You may need to do these in batches; I usually do. Salt the potato chips very lightly. A little salt goes a long way, here. Once this is done, microwave your chips for 5 minutes, keeping an eye on them as you do. When you start to see brown spots in the centers of most of the chips, stop the microwave for one full minute. If you're making thick chips, the brown spots can take longer to appear, up to 8 or 9 minutes. Just be patient. After the minute of resting has elapsed, restart the microwave and nuke the chips for a further 2 minutes, or until all of them appear nicely browned but not burned.
Servings: 2, but I usually eat them all myself.
Still, in spite of my best intentions, sometimes I just crave potato chips. As in, 'can't do without' cravings. Previously, I would ignore these cravings as best I could, or try to satisfy them with carrots, which, while crunchy, somehow lack that satisfyingly starchy element one gets exclusively from potatoes. What's a health-conscious cook to do?
Make her own, of course! I stumbled on a recipe from fat free vegan kitchen for fast, easy microwave potato chips, which involve no oil whatsoever, and I now reproduce it here in its entirety, along with some tips that I've picked up for better chips.
Potato Chips
1 russet potato (This method might also work with sweet potatoes and other root starches, like rutabagas or turnips, but I haven't tried it yet.)
Salt
The key to making your own potato chips is that miracle of kitchen inventions, the mandoline. Seriously, if you don't have one, get one. In this case, set your mandoline to its thinnest setting and slice your potato with it. If you use the second-thinnest setting, you will end up with very, very thick potato chips, which some people like (myself included), but which take forever to cook.
On your microwave's glass turntable, lay down a piece of parchment and fold the corners under so that the table can still turn. Arrange your potato chips in a single layer on the parchment. You may need to do these in batches; I usually do. Salt the potato chips very lightly. A little salt goes a long way, here. Once this is done, microwave your chips for 5 minutes, keeping an eye on them as you do. When you start to see brown spots in the centers of most of the chips, stop the microwave for one full minute. If you're making thick chips, the brown spots can take longer to appear, up to 8 or 9 minutes. Just be patient. After the minute of resting has elapsed, restart the microwave and nuke the chips for a further 2 minutes, or until all of them appear nicely browned but not burned.
Servings: 2, but I usually eat them all myself.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Yam Biscuits
These are light and fluffy and just the faintest hint of sweet: perfect for making biscuit sandwiches with some of the fresh roasted chicken from yesterday. Supper today was two chicken biscuits and some green beans: simple, but really good.
I think a good biscuit recipe or two is something every cook worth their salt should have under their belt, so here's one of my favorites.
Yam Biscuits
Adapted from Orangette
1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
2 Tbs light-brown sugar
2 1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp baking soda
6 Tbs chilled unsalted butter
3/4 cup chilled sweet potato puree (Read: peeled, boiled, and pureed sweet potatoes. To avoid all the hassle, buy a tin of yams in the tinned foods section of your grocery store.)
1/3 cup buttermilk
In a large bowl, Start by whisking all the dry ingredients together in a large bowl: 1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour, 2 Tbs light-brown sugar, 2 1/2 tsp baking powder, 1 tsp salt, and 1/2 tsp baking soda. Using a pastry cutter, cut in 6 Tbs chilled unsalted butter, until the whole mixture resembles coarse meal, with some pea-size lumps of butter remaining. In a small bowl, use the pastry cutter again to pulverize your yams into puree, then stir in the 1/3 cup buttermilk. Stir the wet ingredients quickly into the dry ingredients until combined (do not overmix). I usually do this mixing with my hands, which will get dough all over them, but which I find is gentler than electric mixers for this.
Set the oven to preheat to 425F, then turn out the dough onto a lightly floured surface, and knead very gently until dough comes together. A few remaining lumps are okay, but you shouldn't see individual chunks of butter or anything. If the dough is too sticky, work in more flour, until it achieves the proper consistency. Needing to add flour is common: the dough is right when it doesn't stick to your fingers anymore. It's too wet if you're still having sticking problems. Shape the dough into a circle, and pat it to an even 1-inch thickness. With a biscuit cutter, cut out biscuits as close together as possible. Arrange the biscuits on a baking sheet sprayed with non-stick baking spray (the kind that has flour in it). Once you've gotten as many biscuits out of the circle as you can, gather up the scraps and repeat the process to cut out more biscuits until you've used all the dough. I usually just give up and roll the last few into little balls then press them flat to save time.
Bake the biscuits for 20 minutes or until they turn golden. I usually turn the pan around once during the cooking time; it's not necessary but it's a nice touch. If in doubt about the biscuits' doneness, test one by opening it with a fork and examining the center. It should be moist but not doughy. If the biscuit isn't done, just stick it back together and put it in to bake for another few minutes.
Servings: 12 large biscuits, or 20 small ones
I think a good biscuit recipe or two is something every cook worth their salt should have under their belt, so here's one of my favorites.
Yam Biscuits
Adapted from Orangette
1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
2 Tbs light-brown sugar
2 1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp baking soda
6 Tbs chilled unsalted butter
3/4 cup chilled sweet potato puree (Read: peeled, boiled, and pureed sweet potatoes. To avoid all the hassle, buy a tin of yams in the tinned foods section of your grocery store.)
1/3 cup buttermilk
In a large bowl, Start by whisking all the dry ingredients together in a large bowl: 1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour, 2 Tbs light-brown sugar, 2 1/2 tsp baking powder, 1 tsp salt, and 1/2 tsp baking soda. Using a pastry cutter, cut in 6 Tbs chilled unsalted butter, until the whole mixture resembles coarse meal, with some pea-size lumps of butter remaining. In a small bowl, use the pastry cutter again to pulverize your yams into puree, then stir in the 1/3 cup buttermilk. Stir the wet ingredients quickly into the dry ingredients until combined (do not overmix). I usually do this mixing with my hands, which will get dough all over them, but which I find is gentler than electric mixers for this.
Set the oven to preheat to 425F, then turn out the dough onto a lightly floured surface, and knead very gently until dough comes together. A few remaining lumps are okay, but you shouldn't see individual chunks of butter or anything. If the dough is too sticky, work in more flour, until it achieves the proper consistency. Needing to add flour is common: the dough is right when it doesn't stick to your fingers anymore. It's too wet if you're still having sticking problems. Shape the dough into a circle, and pat it to an even 1-inch thickness. With a biscuit cutter, cut out biscuits as close together as possible. Arrange the biscuits on a baking sheet sprayed with non-stick baking spray (the kind that has flour in it). Once you've gotten as many biscuits out of the circle as you can, gather up the scraps and repeat the process to cut out more biscuits until you've used all the dough. I usually just give up and roll the last few into little balls then press them flat to save time.
Bake the biscuits for 20 minutes or until they turn golden. I usually turn the pan around once during the cooking time; it's not necessary but it's a nice touch. If in doubt about the biscuits' doneness, test one by opening it with a fork and examining the center. It should be moist but not doughy. If the biscuit isn't done, just stick it back together and put it in to bake for another few minutes.
Servings: 12 large biscuits, or 20 small ones
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Roast Chicken
Once upon a time, I dared myself to eat for $15 a week. I wasn't entirely sure when I decided to try it that it could be done, but it turns out that it's not so hard. The secret? Roast chicken.
A small whole chicken (3-4 pounds, a fryer hen) is ridiculously economical meat. I can get them at my local store for about $4.50. Roasted, they're enough to feed me dinner for three or four days, and they produce really useful byproducts: namely chicken stock and leftover bits of meat that I use for chicken salads. I've already given my chicken noodle soup recipe, and I'm somewhat shocked that I didn't give my roast recipe at that time, but since today I roasted a hen and it turned out beautifully, it's clearly time to remedy that oversight.
A good roast chicken is lovely to behold. Golden brown and juicy, I've always thought it's an almost formal-looking dish: a Thanksgiving turkey in miniature. Roasted properly, it's also lovely to taste, with a perfect moist-but-not-too-moist texture and a delicately herb infused flavour that I find difficult to achieve by any other method. Combine these succulent selling points with the fact that a single roast chicken easily can be stretched into meals for a week (two or three nights of plain chicken and some veggies, two or three nights of chicken noodle soup, two or three nights of hot chicken salad), it's a bird that more cooks should learn to lean on.
This method for roasting was cobbled together from various sources, most memorably the Zuni Cafe Cookbook's famous bird, and Barbara Kafka's Julia Child Cookbook Award-winning method.
Roast Chicken
1 whole chicken (3-4 lbs is perfect, but up to 6 lbs is fine)
Salt (1 tbsp per 4 lbs of bird)
Baking soda (use the same amount of baking soda as you do salt, so if you've got a 4 lb bird, use 1 tbsp of each)
1/2 cup fresh rosemary
1/2 cup fresh thyme
Begin the day before you plan to actually cook the bird. Extract the giblets and neck from the body of the bird (save these in a pot nearby and use them to make stock), and rinse the whole thing thoroughly. Using paper towels, dry the chicken completely both inside and out. Use your fingers to loosen the skin over the breast and thighs. Mix the salt and baking soda together, and rub the mixture evenly over the bird. Sit the salted-and-sodaed bird on a rack and put it back in the fridge to wait until the next day. I know that a lot of cooks aren't big on prep that needs to take place the day before, but let me tell you, this is worth it. It's essential. The salt soaks into the bird and gives it amazing flavour, and the baking soda dries out the skin so you get the coveted crisp, crackly skin that cookbook covers envy. Plus it cuts way down on the prep time for the day you cook the bird.
Once you've refrigerated your chicken, it's time to make stock. Fill a soup pot with water and toss in the giblets and neck. Add a handfull of baby carrots, some of the tough stems of brocolli, the dark green tops of leeks that you never use, etc. Boil this for a few hours, then strain it through cheesecloth and skim the fat off the top. Save the fat as seasoning if you like, but certainly save the stock. You can use it with leftover bits of the chicken meat to make soup.
The next day, begin by preheating your oven to 450F. Remove chicken and rack from the fridge, and turn the chicken over so that the breast is pointed down towards the rack. Using a sharp knife, cut a few slits across the bottom of the chicken (the side currently facing up). This will allow the fat to drain off more effectively, and will help you achieve the perfect skin. Stuff your herbs into the cavity of the upside down chicken, then place chicken and rack in a roasting pan, and stick it in the oven for 25 minutes. Remove it from the oven, and use two spatulas to turn it over so that the breast faces the top. I advise spatulas in lieu of tongs, because tongs have the anoying tendency to rip the skin, which is not the desired result. Spatulas are gentler. Once you've flipped your bird so that the breast side is facing up, sprinkle pepper on top and replace the ckicken in the oven for another 25 minutes, or until the chicken reaches an internal temperature of 140F. Raise the oven temperature to 500F, and cook for another 15 minutes, or until the internal temperature hits 165F. Remove the bird from the oven, and allow it to cool for 10 minutes before cutting it so that the juices get a chance to redistribute themselves.
A note about cooking at 500F: this temperature is high enough to burn all the dripped bits out of the bottom of your oven. As such, you may want to run your stove-top fan, and keep an eye on the bird to see if you need to open a window, because it may smoke a little. i've never yet had a bird catch fire, so I'm convinced this method is very safe, but because you're essentially cleaning the bottom of your oven by doing this, you may get smoke from some of the drips heating up.
Servings: 6-8, plus stock.
A small whole chicken (3-4 pounds, a fryer hen) is ridiculously economical meat. I can get them at my local store for about $4.50. Roasted, they're enough to feed me dinner for three or four days, and they produce really useful byproducts: namely chicken stock and leftover bits of meat that I use for chicken salads. I've already given my chicken noodle soup recipe, and I'm somewhat shocked that I didn't give my roast recipe at that time, but since today I roasted a hen and it turned out beautifully, it's clearly time to remedy that oversight.
A good roast chicken is lovely to behold. Golden brown and juicy, I've always thought it's an almost formal-looking dish: a Thanksgiving turkey in miniature. Roasted properly, it's also lovely to taste, with a perfect moist-but-not-too-moist texture and a delicately herb infused flavour that I find difficult to achieve by any other method. Combine these succulent selling points with the fact that a single roast chicken easily can be stretched into meals for a week (two or three nights of plain chicken and some veggies, two or three nights of chicken noodle soup, two or three nights of hot chicken salad), it's a bird that more cooks should learn to lean on.
This method for roasting was cobbled together from various sources, most memorably the Zuni Cafe Cookbook's famous bird, and Barbara Kafka's Julia Child Cookbook Award-winning method.
Roast Chicken
1 whole chicken (3-4 lbs is perfect, but up to 6 lbs is fine)
Salt (1 tbsp per 4 lbs of bird)
Baking soda (use the same amount of baking soda as you do salt, so if you've got a 4 lb bird, use 1 tbsp of each)
1/2 cup fresh rosemary
1/2 cup fresh thyme
Begin the day before you plan to actually cook the bird. Extract the giblets and neck from the body of the bird (save these in a pot nearby and use them to make stock), and rinse the whole thing thoroughly. Using paper towels, dry the chicken completely both inside and out. Use your fingers to loosen the skin over the breast and thighs. Mix the salt and baking soda together, and rub the mixture evenly over the bird. Sit the salted-and-sodaed bird on a rack and put it back in the fridge to wait until the next day. I know that a lot of cooks aren't big on prep that needs to take place the day before, but let me tell you, this is worth it. It's essential. The salt soaks into the bird and gives it amazing flavour, and the baking soda dries out the skin so you get the coveted crisp, crackly skin that cookbook covers envy. Plus it cuts way down on the prep time for the day you cook the bird.
Once you've refrigerated your chicken, it's time to make stock. Fill a soup pot with water and toss in the giblets and neck. Add a handfull of baby carrots, some of the tough stems of brocolli, the dark green tops of leeks that you never use, etc. Boil this for a few hours, then strain it through cheesecloth and skim the fat off the top. Save the fat as seasoning if you like, but certainly save the stock. You can use it with leftover bits of the chicken meat to make soup.
The next day, begin by preheating your oven to 450F. Remove chicken and rack from the fridge, and turn the chicken over so that the breast is pointed down towards the rack. Using a sharp knife, cut a few slits across the bottom of the chicken (the side currently facing up). This will allow the fat to drain off more effectively, and will help you achieve the perfect skin. Stuff your herbs into the cavity of the upside down chicken, then place chicken and rack in a roasting pan, and stick it in the oven for 25 minutes. Remove it from the oven, and use two spatulas to turn it over so that the breast faces the top. I advise spatulas in lieu of tongs, because tongs have the anoying tendency to rip the skin, which is not the desired result. Spatulas are gentler. Once you've flipped your bird so that the breast side is facing up, sprinkle pepper on top and replace the ckicken in the oven for another 25 minutes, or until the chicken reaches an internal temperature of 140F. Raise the oven temperature to 500F, and cook for another 15 minutes, or until the internal temperature hits 165F. Remove the bird from the oven, and allow it to cool for 10 minutes before cutting it so that the juices get a chance to redistribute themselves.
A note about cooking at 500F: this temperature is high enough to burn all the dripped bits out of the bottom of your oven. As such, you may want to run your stove-top fan, and keep an eye on the bird to see if you need to open a window, because it may smoke a little. i've never yet had a bird catch fire, so I'm convinced this method is very safe, but because you're essentially cleaning the bottom of your oven by doing this, you may get smoke from some of the drips heating up.
Servings: 6-8, plus stock.
Friday, October 3, 2008
Southern Egg Rolls with Peach-Red Pepper Chutney
A few months back, my parents went on vacation to Charleston, South Carolina and ate at a restaurant there called Magnolias, which is famous for its 'Southern Fusion' cuisine: southern-style takes on dishes from all over the world. Dad came back raving about the appetizer he'd had, a southern-style egg roll with a peach chutney on top. The idea sounded intriguing: substitute collard greens for the cabbage in an egg roll, and use Southern staple meats (chicken, ham, tasso). The chutney sounded amazing, and the ingredients in the egg roll didn't sound difficult. But I'm not one for frying, so I forgot about the egg rolls for a while.
Fast forward to three weeks ago. I was browsing through the cookbooks at my local Books-a-million. I'd been captivated by the plating in a cookbook by Morimoto (yes, the Iron Chef), and I still want to try the recipe for vegan mac-and-cheese in a Moosewood cookbook. But while browsing the regional cuisines shelf, I noticed that Magnolias had put out a cookbook, and lo and behold, there in a place of honor was the recipe for the egg rolls. "Well, that looks easy," I thought. "It's all ingredients I should be able to find around here, and none of the techniques look tough." But I still wasn't a fan of frying. So the egg rolls kind of percolated in the back of my mind for a few weeks, and today when I went grocery shopping, I swore to try them before the season for peaches went out. The key to my change of heart was a blog recipe I found for baked egg rolls, a genius invention that eliminated all the downsides I had been worrying about with this recipe.
They were amazing. They're very very good, a combination of chewy and crisp, earthy and light, with a dash of sweetness from the chutney holding everything together and making it sing. Seriously, don't make this without the chutney. It is the je ne sais quoi that makes this recipe work. I'll be making these again and again, not just for dad, but because I think I'm in love too.
Southern Egg Rolls with Peach-Red Pepper Chutney
Egg Rolls:
1/2 minced large vidalia onion
2-3 cloves minced garlic
1/2 lb chicken breast, cut into thin strips
1 lb kale or collard greens, uncooked (I use kale, but I'll try collards next time, because I think their stronger flavour will pair well with the chutney)
10 egg roll wrappers
1 tbsp cornstarch
Olive oil
Salt
Pepper
Begin by preheating the oven to 425F.
Wash the greens thoroughly, and wilt them in a saucepan over medium-high heat with a teeny dash of olive oil, just enough to keep them from sticking to the pan. When they're wilted, slide them out of the pan and onto a cutting board, then chop them into thin, short ribbons. Once they've been chopped, slide them onto folded paper towels, place another folded paper towel on top, and press as much moisture as you can out of the greens. Then transfer them to a colander and use your paper towels to mash them against the sides of the colander, to get even more moisture out. Leave them in the colander to drain while you finish the rest of the filling preparations. Sprinkle some salt over the draining greens to help them remove water, and to season them.
Mince the onion and slide it into the saucepan to saute over medium-high heat. When the onion is just beginning to brown, add the garlic and cook until the onion has caramelized. Reserve the onion and garlic in a medium-sized bowl, and use the same saucepan to cook the chicken, again, using only a teeny dash of olive oil to keep it from sticking. When the chicken is done all the way through and slightly browned, slide it out of the pan and onto the cutting board, where you can chop it into bite-sized strips. Add it to the onion and garlic, then dump in the greens. Use your hands to mix these ingredients thoroughly.
At this point, all the egg roll fillings are finished and you're ready to roll your wrappers. Do not begin rolling, however, until you've started your chutney over heat. Go chop all the stuff for that, then come back to this. Ready? Good.
Set a paper towel over your cutting board to help keep it dry. In a small dish, mix the tbsp of cornstarch with an equal amount of water, and stir until it has no lumps. Place an egg roll wrapper on the towel with one corner facing down, so that it looks like a diamond instead of a square. Brush the edges with the cornstarch mixture, to help them stick. Using a 1/4 cup measuring cup, scoop out a heaping 1/4 cup of filling and place it in the middle of the diamond. Arrange the filling into a thick horizontal line between the right and left corner of the diamond. Fold the bottom corner of the diamond upwards, to form a sort of pouch over the filling. Fold the right and left corners each a small way in, just enough to cover the filling (so that the roll takes on a long, thinnish shape). Finish by rolling the egg roll towards the top. Repeat until you've use all your filling (I usually get between seven and ten egg rolls out of this, depending on how much greens I'm using).
Take a baking sheet, and spray it with non-stick spray. Place the egg rolls evenly on the sheet, seam side down, and then spray the tops with the non-stick spray. Bake for 6-7 minutes on one side, then turn them over, spray the other side with cooking spray, and bake for 6-7 more minutes to finish. Serve while hot, with chutney on the side for dipping.
Because they're baked instead of fried, these tend to reheat pretty well in a toaster oven for lunch the next day, if you manage to have leftovers.
Servings: 2-3 if you use them as a meal like I do and everyone eats several, or 8-10 if you use them as appetizers and everyone eats only one.
Peach-Red Pepper Chutney
1 large, or two small peaches, peeled and minced (If you're using frozen peaches, go for about 1 1/2 cups)
1/2 vidalia onion, minced
1/2 red bell pepper, minced
1 tbsp fresh ginger, grated
Slightly less than 1/4 cup light brown sugar (I use a 1/4 cup measuring cup, but don't quite fill it all the way)
Slightly less than 1/4 cup regular sugar
2 tbsp cider vinegar
Add all ingredients together in a saucepan over medium heat and stir until they're mixed. Turn the heat down to medium-low (on my stove, this is a very thin boil) and cook for 20-30 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the chutney thickens and achieves a syrupy consistency. While it's cooking, go roll your egg rolls and let those cook. At first, the chutney will get more liquidy instead of less, since the sugar will encourage the peaches to release their juices, but eventually it will thicken back up. Use it immediately, or cool it to room temperature and refrigerate. It should keep 2-3 weeks in the fridge.
Note: If you're using fresh peaches, go for slightly underripe ones. The ones your grocery store sells are probably perfect. If you use fully ripe ones, they'll lose their consistency during cooking and get mushy.
Servings: see above, with the egg rolls.
Fast forward to three weeks ago. I was browsing through the cookbooks at my local Books-a-million. I'd been captivated by the plating in a cookbook by Morimoto (yes, the Iron Chef), and I still want to try the recipe for vegan mac-and-cheese in a Moosewood cookbook. But while browsing the regional cuisines shelf, I noticed that Magnolias had put out a cookbook, and lo and behold, there in a place of honor was the recipe for the egg rolls. "Well, that looks easy," I thought. "It's all ingredients I should be able to find around here, and none of the techniques look tough." But I still wasn't a fan of frying. So the egg rolls kind of percolated in the back of my mind for a few weeks, and today when I went grocery shopping, I swore to try them before the season for peaches went out. The key to my change of heart was a blog recipe I found for baked egg rolls, a genius invention that eliminated all the downsides I had been worrying about with this recipe.
They were amazing. They're very very good, a combination of chewy and crisp, earthy and light, with a dash of sweetness from the chutney holding everything together and making it sing. Seriously, don't make this without the chutney. It is the je ne sais quoi that makes this recipe work. I'll be making these again and again, not just for dad, but because I think I'm in love too.
Southern Egg Rolls with Peach-Red Pepper Chutney
Egg Rolls:
1/2 minced large vidalia onion
2-3 cloves minced garlic
1/2 lb chicken breast, cut into thin strips
1 lb kale or collard greens, uncooked (I use kale, but I'll try collards next time, because I think their stronger flavour will pair well with the chutney)
10 egg roll wrappers
1 tbsp cornstarch
Olive oil
Salt
Pepper
Begin by preheating the oven to 425F.
Wash the greens thoroughly, and wilt them in a saucepan over medium-high heat with a teeny dash of olive oil, just enough to keep them from sticking to the pan. When they're wilted, slide them out of the pan and onto a cutting board, then chop them into thin, short ribbons. Once they've been chopped, slide them onto folded paper towels, place another folded paper towel on top, and press as much moisture as you can out of the greens. Then transfer them to a colander and use your paper towels to mash them against the sides of the colander, to get even more moisture out. Leave them in the colander to drain while you finish the rest of the filling preparations. Sprinkle some salt over the draining greens to help them remove water, and to season them.
Mince the onion and slide it into the saucepan to saute over medium-high heat. When the onion is just beginning to brown, add the garlic and cook until the onion has caramelized. Reserve the onion and garlic in a medium-sized bowl, and use the same saucepan to cook the chicken, again, using only a teeny dash of olive oil to keep it from sticking. When the chicken is done all the way through and slightly browned, slide it out of the pan and onto the cutting board, where you can chop it into bite-sized strips. Add it to the onion and garlic, then dump in the greens. Use your hands to mix these ingredients thoroughly.
At this point, all the egg roll fillings are finished and you're ready to roll your wrappers. Do not begin rolling, however, until you've started your chutney over heat. Go chop all the stuff for that, then come back to this. Ready? Good.
Set a paper towel over your cutting board to help keep it dry. In a small dish, mix the tbsp of cornstarch with an equal amount of water, and stir until it has no lumps. Place an egg roll wrapper on the towel with one corner facing down, so that it looks like a diamond instead of a square. Brush the edges with the cornstarch mixture, to help them stick. Using a 1/4 cup measuring cup, scoop out a heaping 1/4 cup of filling and place it in the middle of the diamond. Arrange the filling into a thick horizontal line between the right and left corner of the diamond. Fold the bottom corner of the diamond upwards, to form a sort of pouch over the filling. Fold the right and left corners each a small way in, just enough to cover the filling (so that the roll takes on a long, thinnish shape). Finish by rolling the egg roll towards the top. Repeat until you've use all your filling (I usually get between seven and ten egg rolls out of this, depending on how much greens I'm using).
Take a baking sheet, and spray it with non-stick spray. Place the egg rolls evenly on the sheet, seam side down, and then spray the tops with the non-stick spray. Bake for 6-7 minutes on one side, then turn them over, spray the other side with cooking spray, and bake for 6-7 more minutes to finish. Serve while hot, with chutney on the side for dipping.
Because they're baked instead of fried, these tend to reheat pretty well in a toaster oven for lunch the next day, if you manage to have leftovers.
Servings: 2-3 if you use them as a meal like I do and everyone eats several, or 8-10 if you use them as appetizers and everyone eats only one.
Peach-Red Pepper Chutney
1 large, or two small peaches, peeled and minced (If you're using frozen peaches, go for about 1 1/2 cups)
1/2 vidalia onion, minced
1/2 red bell pepper, minced
1 tbsp fresh ginger, grated
Slightly less than 1/4 cup light brown sugar (I use a 1/4 cup measuring cup, but don't quite fill it all the way)
Slightly less than 1/4 cup regular sugar
2 tbsp cider vinegar
Add all ingredients together in a saucepan over medium heat and stir until they're mixed. Turn the heat down to medium-low (on my stove, this is a very thin boil) and cook for 20-30 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the chutney thickens and achieves a syrupy consistency. While it's cooking, go roll your egg rolls and let those cook. At first, the chutney will get more liquidy instead of less, since the sugar will encourage the peaches to release their juices, but eventually it will thicken back up. Use it immediately, or cool it to room temperature and refrigerate. It should keep 2-3 weeks in the fridge.
Note: If you're using fresh peaches, go for slightly underripe ones. The ones your grocery store sells are probably perfect. If you use fully ripe ones, they'll lose their consistency during cooking and get mushy.
Servings: see above, with the egg rolls.
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