Baking Biscuits

When my grandfather moved out of his home in Delaware after my grandmother passed away, my family was able to take whatever items they wanted before everything was donated to charity or sold.  I met my father at the train station in Wilmington in a rental van we would use to bring all my loot back to Washington D.C. 

My father and I had the run of the house for the day and we went through pretty much everything.  I was on the lower end of the priority list for taking things, so there wasn’t much left.  But when you are a college student who has just moved into an apartment the 60’s and 70’s décor, housewares, and furniture your grandfather owns is very exciting.  I chose with awe some of the golden colored wine glasses used only for special occasions – two sizes.  Which I later found out my grandmother had collected at gas stations as part of some kind of promotion in the early 60’s.  I nabbed the two twin beds for the new apartment, a turquoise Chinese tea set and some cookbooks.

I had just gotten into cooking, and so I did not understand the treasure trove of cooking references that my grandmother had collected over the years.  I figured I would grab some that looked interesting and then leave the rest.  I am sure I probably left behind a first edition of Mastering the Art of French Cooking.  What I now have in my possession is an early copy of the Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook, the one with the red checks and in 3 ring binder format as well as a first edition of the Physiology of Taste as translated by M.F.K. Fischer (this may actually be worth a little money).  But it is the Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook that I remembered fondly, and one that I use still for basic recipes. 

My grandmother studied home economics at Cornell.  She may have taught for a few years before having children and practicing home economy.  However, unlike where you think this story is going, my grandmother was not the “make it from scratch” home ec. teacher in June Cleaver attire.  She loved convenience foods.  A classic meal during the holidays or any family gathering was canned ham, canned pineapple, macaroni and cheese (this was just cooked elbow macaroni tossed with shredded cheese – no sauce, no gooey stringy cheese – I hated macaroni and cheese for a very long time) and canned crescent rolls.  Perhaps a salad or some frozen vegetables. 

So as you can see, I did not necessarily expect to find gastronomic treasures in my grandmother’s library of cookbooks – although I still wonder what I would have found had I known what to look for at the time.  However that Better Homes and Gardens cookbook did get a lot of play as a reference for cookies, roasting temperatures of meats and so on.  I prefer that cookbook with all its jewel-toned pictures and recipes for far more Jell-o molds than anyone could possibly need than any more recent edition.  And it is to this cookbook that I turn when I need recipes for biscuits or boiled frosting or everyday cake. 

Today I am going to tell you about the biscuits.  So many people are so ardent about biscuits that I was rather hesitant to try and make them.  What if they are not fluffy, what if they turn into hockey pucks, what if they just taste bad – all of these were very real fears that inhibited my biscuit making endeavors.  The trickiest part of it is those six words in each biscuit recipe – do not over work the dough.  How are you supposed to know!!  Where is that elusive fine line between not well mixed and over worked?  Will the dough change colors?  Will they become inedible?  Will the oven explode with terribly formed lumps of dough!  The horror!!

Biscuits are in fact not that scary.  The problem I realized is that most people don’t get tactile with the biscuits early on the in the process, and herein lies the secret to not overworked biscuits; use your hands!  After cutting in the butter, toss those two knives or pastry blender aside and rub the pieces of butter into the flour with your fingers.  This is (1) a lot less time consuming (2) a better way to determine the proper point at which to add the milk and (3) is the only sure-fire way to add love into your biscuits. 

Once you have the whole thing down, you will be able to whip up biscuits at the drop of a hat. 

Biscuits Supreme
As adapted from Better Homes and Gardens 1968

I have begun adding other ingredients and flavors to my biscuits.  Try adding any kind of fresh herb, or pesto to the biscuits.  Scallions and chives are wonderful for biscuits on top of chicken pot pie or other casseroles*. The green biscuits pictured above have a parsley pesto in them.

2 cups all-purpose flour

½ c. butter, cut into ¼” cubes
1 Tb and 1 tsp. baking powder
½ tsp. cream of tartar
½ tsp. salt
2/3 c. milk (anything but whole milk works fine), plus extra for brushing
2 Tb. Chopped herbs or pesto, optional

Preheat the oven to 450°.

Combine flour, baking powder, cream of tartar and salt in a large bowl.  Add butter and begin to cut in, when the butter pieces are reduced in size by half, begin using your hands.  Rub the pieces of butter quickly between your fingers to break them up, and toss the flour over the pieces.  Continue until the butter is mostly worked in, and the flour seems a bit heavier looking – there will still be a few larger clumps of butter, but that is ok. 

Next, make a well in the center of the flour, add in the milk and the herbs or pesto at this point if using.  To stir, use a fork and moving around the inside of the well, begin pulling in flour from all sides of the bowl.  Continue to stir with the fork until the dough is all wet and very difficult to stir. 

Move the dough out onto a floured board and knead a few times to combine the dough into a cohesive ball.  3-6 times should be all you need.  Roll the dough out to about 1” thick and cut into rounds.  Reshape the dough into a ball and roll out again, cutting new biscuits until there is only enough dough for one last biscuit – this one can be hand shaped. 

Place the biscuits on an ungreased baking sheet and brush with a little milk or melted butter.  Bake for 12-15 minutes, rotating mid-way through if necessary.  Serve warm from the oven!

*You can add these biscuits to anything you plan to place in the oven to bake.  For an easy chicken and biscuit recipe use the above biscuit dough and place onto precooked chicken, veggies and a lightly thickened gravy.  Bake uncovered for about 20 minutes or until the biscuits are brown on top and the chicken mixture is thick and bubbling.

The Have Knots

I don’t know if you have ever heard of garlic knots, but they are wonderful.  They blow “cheesy breadsticks” out of the water.  Or rather they make cement shoes for cheesy breadsticks and sink them in the bottom of a remote lake in New Jersey.  Yes, garlic knots have the mafia toughness of any decent snack or side dish in the tri-state area. 

Please let me explain my love for garlic knots. 

I am a firm believer in the after-school snack.  I used to eat a bowl of cereal every day upon returning from school when I was young.  Then when friends began driving, we were able to expand our dining options beyond the family kitchen – and I discovered the garlic knot.  My friends and I would visit various pizza places and this was always my menu item of choice.  Others got slices of pizza or even a shake or something, but I preferred a small order of garlic knots.

They are exactly what you are imagining right now.  Garlic + Something tied in a knot = boom garlic knot.  It’s like an Italian pretzel but a little more bad-ass. And they are amazingly easy to make at home.  Plus anytime you add something to a dinner that has been tossed in garlic butter, I think the entire meal gets elevated to a whole other level: French fries tossed with garlic and butter – pommes frites.  Need I say more?

It helps to serve garlic knots warm and covered in an unhealthy amount of butter and garlic.  And a side bowl of marinara sauce doesn’t hurt either.  You can make these with any kind of pizza dough you prefer, although I like fresh dough.  So the next time you make homemade pizza, pinch off a bit of dough and make a few garlic knots.  You won’t be disappointed.

Garlic Knots
This dough recipe is for one large pizza, so it will make about 12 - 16 garlic knots.  You can always make some pizza and save a little of the dough for the knots, or have a feast of garlic knots one night.

1 package yeast
1 c warm water
1 tsp sugar
1 tsp salt
3 Tb. Olive Oil, divided
2 ½ c flour
1 egg, beaten
4 cloves garlic, chopped
½ c butter
Fresh chopped parsley, optional
Salt to taste

To make the dough, dissolve yeast in warm water in the bowl of a large stand mixer.  After about 5 minutes, when the mixture is a bit frothy, stir in sugar, salt and 1 tablespoon of olive oil.  Mix in the flour until well incorporated.  Move dough onto a lightly floured surface and work into a ball.  Clean out the bowl and then oil with the remaining 2 tablespoons of olive oil.  Place the dough back in the bowl, and toss to coat in oil.  Cover loosely with a kitchen towel and allow to rise for about 45 minutes, or until doubled in size.

When the dough has risen, preheat the oven to 425°.  Punch down the dough and divide into 4 pieces.  Take each piece and divide into 3 or 4 pieces.  Each piece should be the size of 1 ½ golf balls (I was going to say paddle ball from the game you play at the beach, but most people won’t get that reference).  Roll into a log and then tie into a knot, similar to making a pretzel, but pull the ends so that there is no gap.

Place onto a greased cookie sheet, and repeat with the remaining dough.  Brush each knot with beaten egg.  Bake for 10-12 minutes or until lightly browned.  Meanwhile melt butter in a sauce pan over medium -low heat, add in the garlic and a generous pinch of salt.  Once the garlic knots are done baking, place them in a large bowl, and drizzle the garlic butter mixture over them, tossing to coat.  Sprinkle with salt and parsley, and serve immediately.

A Kilo of Spinach

Shopping overseas can be a tricky business.  You’re never quite sure if what you’re asking for makes sense, and you don’t really understand the responses you get.  This has happened to me a few times.  In visiting Mexico once with some friends, I had been prepped for some simple questions in Spanish.  Wanting to try out my newly acquired knowledge, I proudly asked our cab driver ¿Cuanto cuesta? And then stood there staring at him when he answered me in rapid fire Spanish.  My friends agreed I should work on understanding the answers to those questions.

Another time, when I was in Germany I went to get my hair cut and colored.  I had an idea for what I wanted but surprisingly, “A trip to the Hair Salon” was not one of the vocabulary units we studied.  After muddling through what I wanted, the hair stylist nodded and said no problem.  Many highlight foils and a good hour and a half later, she took out everything from my hair and called another stylist over for consultation.  I had not yet seen my hair in the mirror.  After some whispers – they both told me it looked awesome.  I was dubious.  I wound up with three very distinct highlight chunks on my head – white, brown and copper.  It was pretty shocking.  However, I did not, for the life of me, know how to tell her anything besides how awesome it was.  I finally determined that my hair was pretty cool; cooler than me, so I would just have to pretend.

And the other time shopping in a foreign language has left me with deleterious results was also in Germany.  I was walking past the gypsy farm stands behind my dorm and saw a very good price for fresh spinach.  I figured, why not.  Now, the price for spinach was by the kilogram.  When asked how much spinach I wanted, I froze. Extreme panic set in as I scrambled to try and remember what the other delineations of metric weight were.  There are milligrams, centigrams, decigrams, grams, something, something, kilograms.   I had literally no idea how much spinach I wanted nor did I know what measure I should use in the purchase.  So I told the gypsy ‘Ein Kilo’ – one kilo.  That is a lot of spinach.  After cramming a plastic shopping bag full of spinach he looked at me and told me it wasn’t quite a kilo, and did I want it anyways.  I nodded yes. (Similar to my tomato experience this summer).  I completely forgot that I could order the spinach the EXACT SAME way I do here – half a kilo, a quarter kilo, all would have worked just as well.  And if I had managed to remember hectogram I’m sure the gypsy would have thought I was even more crazy. 

So in honor of accidentally ordering way too much spinach, I would like to share the following recipe with you.

A friend of mine made this last winter, and I have been mildly obsessed with it ever since.  The original recipe is a bit different and calls for more ingredients.  Personally, I like this simple version and I don’t think you miss out on any flavor.

Green Quinoa
As adapted from Martha Rose Shulman, New York Times

1 box frozen chopped spinach, thawed
1 ¾ c water, divided
1 small onion, diced
1 Tb olive oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 c quinoa, rinsed if necessary
Salt

In a blender or food processor, combine spinach and ¾ cup water and puree.  There will still be some chunks of spinach, but as long as it is mostly liquefied, it will be fine.

In a medium saucepan over medium-high heat, sauté the onion in the olive oil until translucent, about 5 minutes.  Next add garlic, quinoa and a pinch of salt.  Sauté about 3 more minutes, stirring constantly to toast the quinoa.  Add in remaining one cup of water, bring to a simmer, cover and cook for about 5 minutes.  Next add in the spinach puree, and another pinch of salt.  Bring to a simmer, cover and cook for about 15 to 20 minutes, or until the quinoa is cooked and the liquid is absorbed.  Fluff with a fork , check for seasonings and serve.

Fun in Foil

This post will not be about cookies.  I will admit to being weak-minded and buying cookies this week at the supermarket.  And when you already have some cookies in the cupboard, then you really oughtn’t make more cookies on top of that. 

Or at least that’s how I am dealing with my guilt about not producing another cookie recipe for you, and right before the Holidays too, sheesh.

Instead, I wanted to share with you some pictures from Thanksgiving and one of the recipes I have now made a few times which will be good all winter and into early spring.

As you know I grew some beets and leeks (I actually managed to get 3 leeks!) in my tiny little garden this year.  So I had a surplus of beets on hand come the end of harvest.  I love the idea of eating things that don’t necessarily seem to work together – and that is what this recipe is all about.  It is incredibly easy to prepare and is a very different way to get that side of vegetables onto your dinner plate.

I do recommend using Chioggia, golden or even white beets as standard beets will stain all of your pretty vegetables a bright pink.  And if you can find multi-colored carrots, use those too – it really ups the pretty factor.

Beets, Carrots and Leeks in foil

2-3 medium beets (Chioggia, golden or white)

2-3 medium carrots
1 large leek
1 Tb olive oil
3Tb white wine
3 sprigs of fresh thyme
½ tsp dried tarragon (or 1 ½ tsp fresh)
Salt and pepper to taste
Aluminum foil

Preheat the oven to 375° or preheat the grill.  Peel and chop the beets and carrots.  Arrange two sheets of foil, overlapping each other, on the countertop or work surface.  Pile the chopped beets and carrots onto the center of the foil.  Thoroughly wash and dice the leeks, add to the top of the vegetable pile.  Gently fold up the sides of the foil to create a little wall, pour on oil and white wine.  Add the thyme sprigs, tarragon, salt and pepper and toss to coat vegetables.  Fold foil up over the vegetables creating a tight seal, so none of the liquid spills out.  Place foil packet onto grill for 20-30 minutes until it smells magnificent and the vegetables are softened.  Or, place foil packet on a cookie sheet and cook in the oven until the vegetables are softened.

Serves 4 as a side dish

College Cornbread

There are so many different ways to make cornbread that I am afraid to really expound on it as an expert and instead will channel the dark side, my “Semi-homemade” side.  I don’t usually like things that you start with a mix, or add in premade items and then call the whole shebang homemade and nutritious, but this is one place where I defer to my pantry.  Not that there is anything wrong with saving time and opting for ease, but for me it leaves me feeling guilty and depressed when I cut open a boxed cake mix or slice into refrigerator cookie dough.  Heck I don’t even like bisquick. 

But I do appreciate these items for their purpose – which is to be fast and easy.  And the one boxed starter I use is for cornbread.  Now, I have made cornbread from scratch, and I like the idea of how versatile cornbread can be.  Spicy, sweet, savory, soft, crunchy and so on baked in cast iron, papers, tins, molds and pans the permutations are endless.  However, it is to this recipe that I turn to the most when I make cornbread.

I got this recipe from a friend of mine in college.  After coming back from Germany, three friends and I sublet a very nice town house in Washington DC.  It was during this semester that I really started to get into cooking, and where I decided that it was a passion of mine.  Mostly, this was due to boredom.  I didn’t have a job, most of our other friends were studying overseas, I didn’t have a boyfriend and I didn’t study in the library. So instead, I learned all the words to 50 Cent’s ‘Wanksta’ and I cooked. 

In fact, I managed to win household MVP one night because I made chili and this cornbread.  Yes, that’s right we had MVP.  You only got bragging rights for it, and it was largely very arbitrarily determined who won MVP for some action he or she performed.  I won MVP for making dinner one night.  My friend won MVP for putting out the toaster fire we started while trying to warm up taco shells.  You see what I mean.

At any rate, this recipe is cheap, easy, and can be a pantry staple to have on hand at a moment’s notice.  I typically only make cornbread for stuffing or when I make chili.  And I must confess that I make the chili simply as an excuse to shove as much cornbread into my face as I possibly can.

Mat’s College Cornbread
I suppose you could use any brand of cornbread mix, but I like the Jiffy version.  There is something very comforting to me about how the picture has not changed on that box in decades.  Also, this can be halved easily, but I will give you the larger version, as the cornbread is very delicious, and you will want to eat a lot of it. Well, that and it’s so hard to find the small cans of corn, making a double batch is just easier.

2 boxes Jiffy Cornbread mix

1 15oz can sweet corn, drained
1 14oz can creamed sweet corn
2 eggs
2 teaspoons sugar

Preheat the oven to 400°.

In a bowl combine all the ingredients.  Stir to combine everything until just moistened and there are no clumps of cornbread mix left.

Pour into a lightly greased 9x13” pan.  Bake for about 45 minutes, or until the top is golden and the sides of the cornbread are lightly browned. 

Let cool slightly and serve.

Something About Squash

Oh baby, it is squash season. Not the summer squash season where complete strangers will approach you and force overgrown zucchini upon you. No, this is winter squash season. I have resisted you in the past winter squash, but not anymore.

I have noticed that winter squash appeal is much bigger in New England than it is anywhere else. Even when I go home to New Jersey for the holidays, I can never find any interesting winter squash. But up here, squash is the predominant vegetable for the entire winter. And right now – I am very excited about that. (Talk to me in March and I will be ready to take a baseball bat to any orange hued storage vegetable that crosses my path.) So excited in fact, that I now have 2 different kinds of squash on our counter and another pureed variety in the freezer. I have been ripping out all recipes with squash or pumpkin I the ingredient list from magazines, and printing anything squash related from the web as I cross it. If you see with Joe or I later this winter, and you notice a strange orange glow about us, it’s not spray tan – it’s beta carotene!

Now, don’t panic like Joe is doing right now. Squash isn’t all that bad. It’s pretty, it’s sweet and it is very versatile. So if you are unfamiliar with winter squash or if your stomach turns at the thought of eating it, I’ll ease you in slowly. Butternut squash is one of the easiest to work with, and is most commonly found in grocery stores around the country. You can boil or roast it and then mash it, puree it, bake with it, and so on. But it’s always fun to try something new.

That, and everything with a crust tastes good in my book. This is a very pretty dish, and I saw it about 2 years ago in a publication by the Maine Organic Farmers and Gardeners Association. I have been pining to try it ever since. It definitely sounds like something that zealous vegetarians would be attracted to, but I promise that the average meat loving Joe I mean person will like it.

Winter Squash and Kale Tart
as adapted from Roberta Bailey’s Harvest Kitchen
This recipe takes a long time but it is fairly simple to assemble, especially if you use a premade crust. It also is a bit soft, and doesn’t cut super cleanly, so if you are using a smaller egg, I would recommend using 2.

For the crust
1 c flour
5 Tb cold butter, cut into small cubes
1-3 Tb cold water

For the Tart
1 ½ cups cooked pureed winter squash*
2 c kale
1 medium leek, chopped
2 Tb butter
1 egg
½ c whole milk
½ c pecorino, grated (or other hard cheese)
½ tsp dried thyme
1 tsp. dried parsley
¼ tsp. all spice
¼ tsp. nutmeg
Salt and pepper to taste

For the crust: cut the butter into the flour until it is course looking, and then slowly add water a teaspoon or two at a time, until the dough comes together. (This can be done in a food processor).

Shape dough into a ball, flatten it to a disc, wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate for 30 minutes.

Preheat oven to 425°.

Meanwhile, remove thick stems from kale and chop into ½” strips.

Once the dough has rested, roll it out into a 10” disc, and place into a 9” pie or tart pan. Press the dough in, and remove any excess. Bake crust for 10 minutes, then allow to cool slightly before filling.

In a large skillet, sauté leeks in the butter until softened, about 5 minutes. Add kale and a few tablespoons of water, cover and cook until just barely wilted. Season with salt and pepper and set aside to cool slightly.

Lower oven temperature to 350°. In a large bowl, mix together egg and milk. Then add in pureed squash, cheese, herbs, and spices. Stir in the leek and kale mixture, coating everything. Pour filling into par-baked crust and bake for 55-60 minutes, until the edges of the tart are golden and the center of the tart is solid. Allow to cool for 15 to 20 minutes, slice and serve.


*If you don’t just happen to have pureed squash laying around, take a small butternut squash (or something more fun like Hubbard, Winter Luxury or Kobocha), peel, seed and chop into 1” cubes.  Roast in a 375° oven for about 30 minutes, or until soft.  Toss into a blender or food processor with a tiny bit of water to get it going. Puree until smooth, and set aside for another use!

Chioggia

I have some bad news, my fava beans didn’t make it. I think Joe and I had a grand total of two beans each. The heat, ants, aphids and vinegar all added up to be more than my little plants could bear. So perhaps next year I will try again. This of course dampens my dreams of eating bowls full of favas this summer and sharing with you all the recipes I try out with them. Instead, I have beets.

Yes, I have written about beets before, and I think I may have told you about them last year. Well, since I only have two little garden boxes, a packet of seeds can be split between multiple years. This year’s harvest will look and awful lot like last years. I tried planting things in different combinations and as a result have a slightly different yield. Last year my obsession with Tuscan kale overshadowed my fondness for Chioggia beets, literally. I mean those beets didn’t grow very big because they were hidden under the 2’ tall kale.

This year, the beets have done very well. Joe and I have enjoyed a few dinners featuring their greens, and just now have I begun to pluck the well-formed globes from my little bed of dirt. I will admit that I get inordinately giddy when I slice into these beets, as you may be able to infer from the multiple pictures shown here. But they’re just so pretty. And they taste good to boot. They are a bit more mild – more user friendly if you will, than standard red beets. 

I came upon a recipe in Bon Appetít for a beet and carrot slaw that looked stunning (no surprise there huh). As usual, though, I did not have all the ingredients listed. Although the idea of a coleslaw without cabbage and mayonnaise sounded very good on what may have been the hottest day of the summer. I cut the beets into thin rounds by hand, and then into matchsticks, as my mandolin is a death trap. I tend to take off the top part of fingers when I use it. I think they sell the one I use in the masochism isle at the kitchen supply store. It is terrifyingly sharp, and each time I use it, I think to myself ‘Wow, I should really be care…’ and that’s when the tip of my finger comes off.

On a positive note, the blade is so sharp, that it really doesn’t hurt that much. It bleeds a lot, but when a cold winter night is calling for potatoes au gratin, you wrap a paper towel or three around that puppy and keep slicing. Fortunately, (for my hands) the mandolin broke, so it really would be a death trap. I now leave it in the drawer out of harm’s way. All this means that I am not recommending you use a mandolin for the cutting here, unless you A) have one with a handle/guide thing or B) you don’t want to spend 20 minutes chopping vegetables. Really, it’s up to you.

Beet, Turnip, and Kohlrabi Slaw
as adapted from Bon Appetít June 2011
Kohlrabi looks cool, and that’s why we got it and decided to put it in the slaw. All three of these main ingredients are earthy in flavor, so feel free to omit one of them if you’d like. Or you can add carrots, like the original recipe calls for.

2 medium Chioggia beets, sliced into matchsticks
½ kohlrabi, sliced into matchsticks
2 medium salad turnips, sliced into matchsticks
½ cup plain greek style yogurt (I like the Fage, because it has less moisture)
Juice of ½ a lemon
1 Tb. fresh tarragon
Salt and pepper to taste

Place all the sliced vegetables into a bowl. In a small bowl combine yogurt, lemon juice, tarragon, salt and pepper, stir well. Pour half the dressing over the vegetables and gently toss to coat. Add more dressing as necessary. Chill until ready to serve.

I Wish I was a Windian

My first brush with Indian food was when I was fairly young.  A business colleague of my dad’s would send him a jar of Tandoori paste, among other things, every year for Christmas.  At one point, my mom was brave enough to use the bright orange condiment, though I forget how she prepared it.  There were most likely instructions on the jar, something about cooking chicken and adding the paste.  It did not go over well in our family.  In fact it became sort of a joke for us to receive said jar every year, and they started to accumulate in our pantry. Until my Aunt told us how wonderful Tandoori paste was and that she would happily relieve us of it.

This was my only impression of Indian food until I went to college.  And I have been happily consuming pretty much any form of Indian cuisine put in front of me ever since.  My college roommate for all four years was of Indian descent and she introduced me and our other roommates freshman year to the wonders of Indian fare by ordering a slew of dishes from a local restaurant and then sitting in a circle on the floor of our dorm room and going to it.  Of course the home cooked meals I had at her family’s house and as leftovers brought back to school were far superior, but nevertheless, I was hooked.

I managed to glean a few general recipes from friends and families along the way, but typically I rely on the ever present Indian restaurant to fulfill any cravings.  That is, until we moved to Maine.  Yes, there are some Indian restaurants in the ‘big cities’ of Portland and Bangor, but both of those are about an hour away.  And when the need for chana masala hits, it hits hard.

I do have a few Indian cookbooks in my possession, but sometimes it seems like the steps and time necessary to produce something remotely similar to what Baa (Gujarathi for Grandmother) could whip up in no time would take me days.  I found that I could easily make a version of chicken Tikka, which paired with frozen samosas and a packet or two of microwaved side dishes could fill the gaping Indian food hole in my stomach. 

But pouring packets of palak paneer into bowls straight from the microwave can only sustain a girl for so long.  I had to learn to make my own side dish.  I have the spices and I have the desire, so it should be no problem.  That is what I am going to share with you today.  My Indian side dish.  I claim no regional accuracy for this recipe, but it tastes good and can satisfy any curry craving that might creep up on you.

 
Indian Spiced Green Beans with Potatoes and Tomatoes
I like to use whole spices if I have them, but you can always use ground here instead.

1 ½ pounds fresh green beans, trimmed

½ pound fingerling potatoes, yellow fleshed preferred
1 pint grape tomatoes cut in half
2 Tb. olive oil
½ large onion, sliced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 Tb fresh ginger, minced
½ tsp. coriander seeds, crushed with the back of a spoon
½ tsp. Mustard seeds
2 whole cloves
¼ tsp. ground turmeric
½ tsp. curry powder
2 Tb. Plain yogurt
Salt and pepper to taste

Slice the fingerling potatoes into coins and place in a large skillet.  Add about a cup and a half of water and boil until potatoes are soft and water is mostly evaporated.  Next, add the oil, onion, garlic and ginger and sauté until fragrant.

Add green beans, coriander, mustard seeds, and cloves tossing to coat.  Add another 1/3 cup of water and cook, covered until green beans are tender.  Then add the turmeric, curry powder and tomatoes, tossing to coat all vegetables in spices.  Cook about one minute, then add in yogurt and salt and pepper.  Stir to combine and serve. 

Serves 4 to 6 as a side dish

Ants and Artichokes

Somehow it went from 48° and rainy to 80° and humid seemingly overnight.  I refuse to complain about this, as it is June 1^st and we were due for spring to finally arrive.  Things are popping up in the garden, and we have even managed to harvest some radishes, albeit with bite marks from the thousands of ants helping themselves first.  I have resorted to an organic arsenal of chemical weapons to be used without restraint to combat these little moochers.  Gallons of vinegar and a bottle of ground cinnamon later, I hope to be able to eat the products of my little garden – even if they do taste like a deranged salad.

Mostly I am trying to keep the fava beans and kale I planted intact.  I’ve already told you about my love for these two items and I am willing to go to great lengths to prevent the destruction of them.  Yesterday as I poured a gallon of vinegar over the tiny brown ants while laughing maniacally I briefly worried about some sort of retaliation, but hopefully it won’t amount to that. I guess time will tell.

In the meantime, we have been grilling a lot.  Not just because of the heat, but because the light in our kitchen is burnt out and we can’t figure out how to remove the fixture to (1) see what kind of light bulbs need replacing and (2) to actually do the replacing.  So rather than try to cook in the dark, we moved the main portion of our dinner prep outside.  This gives me an opportunity to monitor the ants and to enjoy the cooling evenings at the same time.
Joe and I have done a lot of grilling in the time we have been together, and not all of it results in perfectly charred dinners.  When we were still living in D.C. we tried to grill whole baby artichokes.  I was told they were very good and that you could eat the whole thing.  I was sold.  But when we tried to eat them, they were fibrous and prickly; I was determined to try them again. 

This past weekend I finally saw a package of baby artichokes at the grocery store and begged Joe to let us try them again.  I was confident I had read enough about them to correct the flaw in our original preparation.  I scoured the cookbooks I had and realized with horror that apparently everyone but me knows how to properly cook artichokes.  How do I know this?  Because there are literally no comprehensive instructions for preparing them for the grill.  Most of the recipes I found said to “prepare artichokes for the grill.” That’s it!  Arg!  How am I to know how to prepare them, yes they are technically “entirely edible” but I have experience the error in that logic. 

Further research and some trial and error later, we did manage to make (and eat) some grilled artichokes.  They are quite good, especially when dunked into a garlic aioli.  So if you are feeling adventurous this weekend and have access to baby artichokes, give this a try.

Grilled Baby Artichokes with Faux Aioli
12 – 15 baby artichokes
4 lemonsOlive oil, for brushing artichokes
Salt and Pepper
3 Tb mayonnaise
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
½ tsp. salt

First, place a large pot of water on the stove.  Juice 2 lemons into it and set aside (do not turn on water yet). 

To prepare the artichokes  - cut off the top 1/3 of the artichoke, then peel off all of the lower outer leaves and trim the stem to about ½ inch long.  Place the artichokes into the pot of water with lemon juice and repeat with the remaining artichokes.  The acidified water will help prevent the artichokes from turning brown on the cut portions. 
Then, place the pot over medium high heat and boil artichokes for about 7-10 minutes.  They should be soft enough to pierce with a fork.  Meanwhile, prepare an ice water bath, once the artichokes are softened, drain and place them in the ice water to stop the cooking. 

Preheat the grill.  Once the grill is ready, slice the artichokes in half and rub with half of a cut lemon, again to prevent browning.  Then brush the cut sides of the artichokes with olive oil, and sprinkle with salt and pepper.  Grill until browned and softened.

For the aioli, mix the chopped garlic and salt together to form a paste.  Add to the mayonnaise with the juice and zest from one lemon.  Stir to combine and refrigerate until ready to serve.

Serve the artichokes with slices of lemon from the remaining ½ of lemon and prepared aioli. 

P.S. Apparently pouring vinegar on your garden is not a good idea.  I managed to destroy all of the lettuce and most of the radishes I planted and only slightly damaged the fava beans and beets…and the ants are still there. 

 

A Pursuit of Sweet Potato Perfection

There are certain food items that I am on a quest to find the perfect version of. A recipe that replicates Entemann’s chocolate chip cookies (original), a risotto that once finished you pour red wine into and sweet potato rolls. I’m sure that there are other items on the list, but these come to mind first.

Allow me to elaborate on each of these sought after foods.

First, original recipe Entemann’s cookies. These were (and still are) a family staple on vacation and during holidays. Somehow we can consume insanely large quantities of these cookies, and I refuse to know what the nutritional values are for them because of it. When Joe first came on family vacation he was horrified and secretly pleased when no one batted an eye about plowing through a box of cookies a day. I mean, there are 14 of us, so that’s not improbable to accomplish. If I could make these cookies – well then we could potentially save like $30 a week on cookies.

Next, the risotto recipe. When I was living in Germany, my friends and I took turns cooking dinners at one another’s dorm rooms. Produce was extremely cheap there but refrigerator space was not. Thus, multiple trips to the store or farmer’s market happened every week. If someone was too excited and bought a ton of produce, then we would have a large meal for everyone so that nothing went bad. One evening, a friend was making her family’s risotto recipe for us. I seem to remember that it was a traditional Milanese style risotto, but once it was served, we poured a bit of red wine onto the side of the bowl and let is seep into and around the risotto. It was glorious.

It may have been one of those meals that is the perfect combination of friends, ambience, food and fun to make the dish stand out even more so than usual. Plus, that evening we managed to go through numerous bottles of wine, so much in fact that in pictures all of our mouths are a deep purple. But when you can buy a bottle of wine for 2 or 3 euro – how can you pass up the opportunity to stockpile.

I’ve never seen a recipe like that. Ever. And perhaps it was a different version of risotto that I am not accustomed to, or maybe it was just something her family happened to do. I just remember it being so interesting and flavorful that I may have had more than my fair share at the time.

Lastly, the sweet potato rolls. This has no fun story, I just really want a good sweet potato roll. I want it to look gorgeously orange and taste like sweet potatoes. I want to unveil them at Thanksgiving and have people swoon. So far I have tried at least 4 unsuccessful attempts, using recipes I found.

This weekend, I decided to take the challenge upon myself. I cut the amount of flour in half and increased the amount of sweet potato. The results were a lovely orange, but alas no strong sweet potato flavor. I thought I would share them with you anyways, and perhaps as I continue working on them, we will reach the end of my quest together.

Sweet Potato Rolls
I like to roast the sweet potatoes in their skins to get the most flavor from them. A medium-large sweet potato, pricked all over with a fork and wrapped in aluminum foil, can be roasted at 375° for about 45 minutes, or until the potato is very tender. Then cool it and scoop out the flesh from the skin.

1 packet yeast
1/3 c. warm water
2 tsp. honey
¾ c mashed sweet potato
½ tsp salt
1 c. bread flour
2 c. white whole wheat flour
1 tsp. olive oil
1 egg beaten (for brushing on the rolls)


Combine the yeast and water in the bowl of an electric mixer, let sit until foamy, about 5 minutes. Add honey and sweet potato, again let sit for 5 minutes. Next, with the paddle attachment running, add salt and flours, one cup at a time. Continue to work the dough until it all holds together and does not stick to the sides of the bowl, about 5 minutes.

Remove dough from bowl, then wipe out bowl and add teaspoon of olive oil. Return dough to bowl and turn to coat in the oil. Cover and allow to rise in a warm place for an hour, or until doubled in size. Punch the dough down and allow to rise again, until doubled in size, about 40 minutes.

Grease a 9” round cake pan. Shape the dough into balls slightly larger than a golf ball and place in cake pan with just a little space between each ball, until the entire pan is full. Cover and allow to rise for 30 minutes.

Preheat oven to 375°. Brush rolls with beaten egg, and repeat just before placing into the oven. Bake for 20-25 minutes until the tops of the rolls are golden and the rolls make a thump sound when you flick them with your finger. Allow to cool slightly then remove from pan, pull apart and serve.

Zwiebelkuchen

Yes, Zwiebelkuchen. Don’t be scared. I’ll walk you through it. Svee-bell-coo-tschen. Well, that’s basically right, the tschen is really more of a throat noise, like if you were pretending to hiss with the back of your throat like a cat – that’s the noise we’re going for. Go ahead, give it a try. No one is judging you here. Zwee-bell-coo- (hiss like a cat)en. Good!

Ok now that we got that out of the way, Zweibelkuchen is an onion cake. Don’t say eww just yet! Onion cake is not literally a layer cake made from onions, it’s more like a quiche or savory tart. A crust, onions, bacon and a light custard make this little baby up, and it is delicious. This dish is found in many different countries with slight variations, but the alpine region in Europe does it the best (in my opinion). So whether you are in France, Switzerland or Italy, try it! But if you are in Germany, I implore you to get a slice.

This was another one of those experiences that was a perfect food memory for me. I had Zwiebelkuchen twice while in Germany, and now ever since I found this recipe I have been hooked. The first time I had it, was at a traditional wine harvest dinner. This was a bit more commercialized than me harvesting grapes from a sun drenched vineyard. But never the less, there was a farm, and the farmer sold tickets to his harvest dinner. In south-west Germany, it was common for farmers to need extra hands in the fall. Workers were fed a light dinner of Zwiebelkuchen and given the Neuesüsse wine to drink that evening.

Neuesüsse is the sweet, barely fermented wine that is bottled and shared directly after harvest. It is very sweet and everyone recommends not having too many glasses of it for the sake of your bowels. But it is good and it is cheap, which of course, is even better. If you can find a bottle at a farmer’s market, you can let it ferment more on a shelf, but be sure to uncork it, or the bottle is rumored to explode on you as the pressure builds.

The other time I had Zwiebelkuchen was when a roommate of mine (and I will save some of the fabulous stories about my roommates in Germany for another time)made it with some friends. This was an opportunity for onion googles, if I have ever seen one. They chopped so many pounds of onions, that the tiny apartment kitchen was lethal to be in. If someone walked into the kitchen they were hit with a wall of onion gas. It was beautiful.

So if you are stuck in a rut for holiday potluck options. Give this a try. You can follow the recipe I will share below, or you can cheap it up a bit, and use refrigerated crescent rolls, ham and a little bit of cheese for a quick brunch option.

Zwiebelkuchen
As adapted from The New German Cookbook by Jean Anderson and Hedy Würz

2 sheets puff pastry, defrosted and at room temperature
7-8 slices of thick cut bacon, chopped into small squares
1 lb. yellow onions, thinly sliced
2 tsp. caraway seeds
½ tsp. nutmeg
½ c. whole milk
¼ c. heavy whipping cream
2 eggs, beaten
salt and pepper to taste

Preheat the oven to 400°. Pinch together the two sheets of puff pastry dough and roll out to fit into a 15”x12” cookie sheet (standard size), there should be about a ½” overlap up the sides of the baking sheet.

Sauté the chopped bacon in a large skillet over medium heat, then remove the bacon, but keep the grease in the pan. Add sliced onions into pan and sauté for about 7 minutes until translucent. Then add caraway seeds and nutmeg and continue to sauté until the onion is very soft, another 7-10 minutes. If the onions start to get brown, turn the heat a little lower and stir more frequently. A little brown on the edges is fine, but not burnt or completely caramelized.

Next, pour the onions onto the puff pastry and sprinkle with bacon bits. Pull the extra puff pastry over top of the onion and bacon, forming a bit of a lip around the entire tart. Bake the Zwiebelkuchen for 15 minutes. Meanwhile, combine the milk, cream, eggs, salt and pepper. After 15 minutes remove the cookie sheet, and pour the milk mixture over top of the onions. The milk mixture should not cover the onions completely, so feel free to reserve any excess milk and egg mixture for another purpose (scrambled eggs or like Joe and I did for a ghetto carbonara). Return the cookie sheet to the oven and continue to bake for another 20-25 minutes. If the edges of the pastry get too brown, cover the sheet loosely with aluminum foil.

Once the custard has set (is no longer jiggly) remove the Zwiebelkuchen from the oven and let cool about 20 minutes. Then slice and serve! I like Zwiebelkuchen warm, but I love it cold or even reheated the next day.