The CCC and Oven Debacle

Who does not love chocolate chip cookies? I know a handful of people who don't like chocolate (can you even imagine?) but all of them still eat chocolate chip cookies.

My mother allowed my sisters and I to putter about in the kitchen from a very early age. We made dinner, we baked, we helped her with canning. I don't know when the first time I made cookies all by my lonesome self would have been - 8? 12? somewhere in between? - but by the time I was a teenager, I was an old hand at baking. Chocolate chips were always a favorite.

For a long time, I used the recipe on the back of the bag of Nestle Toll House cc's. I wasn't always satisfied with the results, but they were OK. Sometimes they were too flat, sometimes they were too hard; but back then, things like exact measurements and careful processes....well, they weren't high on my priority list, y'know? I made CCCs in Sweden for my host family. I took a Pyrex glass measuring cup and Nestle's with me on the plane, smuggled in my luggage. I'm sure that container of chips looked odd on the X-rays, but no one tried to stop me! The results of the CCCs in Sweden were a crapshoot. Sometimes they were better than others. Using a liquid measuring cup for a solid, like flour....eh. Not the wisest. And once I ran out of cc's, I used big bars of chocolate from the grocery store, chopping them into big chunks. Usually milk chocolate, which I really don't like much. My host family enjoyed them, and once I learned how to read Swedish, I could distinguish milk from dark chocolate.

After I came back to the States, I continued to use the Nestle recipe.

Food Network made its appearance on our local cable system somewhere in the late 90s. And then I discovered Alton Brown. Oh, AB! My geek heart goes pitter-patter when you explain how and why things work. Complete with diagrams. AB's recipes for CCC's show you how to make puffy CCCs. How to make chewy CCCs. How to make thin CCCs. My favorite of the three is the chewy variety, the recipe can be found here. I've happily used that recipe for many years now.

But.

Earlier this year, my oven broke. One of the electric coils gave up the ghost, and we were forced to admit that purchasing a replacement coil would be foolish when the entire unit - oven and stovetop - were vintage 1978, plus I've never liked the stove, and hey, we found a brand new one for $100.

I haven't used the new one much. But I got the urge for some CCCs, and baked a batch of AB's best. Except: they were flat. Flatter than a pancake flat. Still chewy, but flat flat flat. Well! I couldn't have that, now, could I? No. So I began doing a little research and I decided (in my infinite wisdom) that using my stand mixer and allowing it to run for a little longer than normal had incorporated too much air into the batter. I can make CCCs without a stand mixer, so I did. Super-carefully measuring, and I got a new box of baking soda, thinking (incorrectly) that maybe my baking soda was old and not giving its appropriate ooomph to the cookies. I also bought a new thermometer for the oven, from a restaurant supply place, to make sure the oven was at the right temperature. (It cost all of $2.52.) I have a nifty new scale (which was NOT $2.52!), and I measured AND weighed everything with the scale, noting down the metric equivalents so that I can make CCCs the next time I'm in Sweden. But. The second batch? Was as flat as the first. Still tasty, but UGLY. Well, that meant war, now, didn't it?

In all the time I've made AB's cookies, I've never altered the recipe a whit. Followed it to the letter, with the exception of adding more chips than it calls for - I always do that when making chocolate chippers - or using chunks instead of chips. Sometimes pecans or macadamia nuts, too. I decided the time had come for me to step back from the master, and wing it.

So the next batch was again made without the mixer, and careful measuring. But I added a half cup more of flour. The secret to the chewy cookies is using bread flour rather than AP flour. Something about gluten and chemical reactions and AB does a much better job of explaining it than I do; hop over to foodtv.com to watch him do so. But why I needed to suddenly use 2-3/4 cups of flour rather than the recipe indicated 2-1/4....I have no idea. None. Nothing except my oven changed. Remember, please, that I have a brand new thermometer in there to make sure the oven is at the right temp. Is it the size? The new oven is bigger. Is it the single rack instead of the 2 I'm used to? I just don't know.

Batch # whatever was finally the result I was looking for. I was back to "my" chocolate chip cookies. Just in time, too, as the holiday baking season is about to begin. I couldn't give flat CCCs in the tins of cookies that I give to so many people as gifts!

The new oven is kind of obnoxiously annoying. It came with one oven rack. One!! My old oven had 3. I removed one of the racks from the old oven, finding 3 too many most of the time. I kept it next to the refrigerator, handy but not exposed. When we got rid of the old oven, the rack was forgotten, so it wasn't hauled away with the rest of the scrap that the old oven had become. Of course, that leftover rack does not fit into the new oven. In fact, NO oven rack on the planet seems to fit that new oven. As noted above, we got the new oven for a steal. $100. From a "closeout" type store, so of course it was either discontinued by the manufacturer, or it had some minor cosmetic damage. At the time, I thought nothing of it. My mistake. Because while the brand name on the new range/oven is one recognized easily all over the US, it apparently is a one-of-a-kind. It is a Sunbeam. I know, right? You recognize this name, yeah? You probably have a small appliance (mixer, food processor, toaster, toaster oven) that has their name on it. Sunbeam divested themselves of their major appliance division in early 2009, which is how my $100 oven ended up in a closeout store sometime in March. Their website has an ever-so-NOT-helpful memo suggesting that you contact a company called AP Wagner for replacement parts.

There is a local appliance parts shop that has been around since probably the 20s, and so I took the oven rack out of the oven, wrenched my back (seriously, still hurting from that) when I pulled the oven out from the wall for the model number on the rear of the oven. The model number is an odd one, not following the pattern of other Sunbeam model numbers. Hm. When I walked in to the appliance repair place, I had both rack and model number in hand and I had every confidence in the world that they'd have what I needed. That store is a blast from the past type of place. No shiny showroom, no uniformed/name-tagged employees, stacked to the rafters with all sorts of junk, refurbished appliances of every stripe all over the place. There's a front counter, and you tell the person behind the counter what you want. They wander away into a maze of shelving units, disappear for a while, and return carrying your item. Invoices are written by hand. An adding machine calculates the sales tax on your item, and and old-fashioned cash register that makes a loud audible ringing noise when the till is opened is where your money goes.

The person behind the counter did a double-take when I carried my rack in. "What is THAT?" he asked me. Bad sign, if the appliance repair man / parts person does not recognize it right off. I told him it was an oven rack, and he punched the model number in to the computer - for inventory only, and the sole concession to the modern age in that place - and you know what he got back? Bupkis. He told me my model number wasn't a Sunbeam model number, and that the rack in my hand was the largest he had ever seen for a home oven. He didn't think he could even find something that was close, when I told him I didn't care who made the bloody thing, I just wanted it to fit the oven. {GROAN}. Strike out!

I called the 800 number for AP Wagner, and went through the same rigmarole. The model number printed on the sticker on the back of the oven isn't a Sunbeam model number, they say. Oh, FFS. The person on the other end of the phone tried inputting partial numbers, did her best, but you know what she got back from her computer, don't you? Bupkis. She did suggest to me that I call back when I was standing in front of the oven, and that possibly there's a serial number or some other thing that she would be able to track down. Have I done that yet? No, I keep forgetting, thinking about it only when I'm at work or it is 3:30 AM. Not. Helpful.

I called Sunbeam directly, and they were even less of a help, in fact they were curt, trying to blow me off by pawning me off on AP Wagner within 15 seconds of me telling them the problem. I explained that I'd already spent a half hour on the phone with AP Wagner, and then they suggested my local appliance parts place, after asking for my zip code. Been there, I said. They couldn't identify the model number either. Then they gave me a phone number for an appliance parts store in the state capitol. Not. Helpful. The state capitol is a 3-4 hour drive from home, not exactly around the way. I got snippy in return, and then they were apologetic, but firm. They couldn't help me.

Help me, interweb!! How, oh how in the world, am I going to bake 20 dozen cookies with ONE measly oven rack??? On my way home from work each day, I drive past a decorative ironworks business, and I'm frustrated enough, and desperate enough, to stop there and ask if they could make me one. The thought of the price tag for that being triple what I paid for the oven is the only thing that is stopping me from doing just that.

Where did I go wrong?

One of my all-time favorite foodie blogs is Smitten Kitchen.  I like to read her recipes.  I haven't made a bunch of things she's written about, not because they don't sound awesome, they do.  I just usually don't print whatever it is out, and baking with my laptop in the kitchen?  Bad, bad, bad idea.  So I'll read something she's posted, courtesy of my feed reader, in the early AM, and think, "wow, yeah, yum." and then I never make it, because the laptop isn't usually hooked to the printer and that is more than I can handle doing in the early AM.

I read about her home-made Oreos several times, clicking back on the link frequently, re-reading, and thinking, hmmmm, I'd like to try those.  From the way she writes alone, I think she'd be someone awesome to have a few drinks with; she's sarcastic, self-deprecating, and hilarious.

Finally, I copied the recipe to a Google Document and printed it.  The day I planned to make it, I actually did read through all 150+ comments, and I was forewarned that they might get super obnoxiously puffy and large.  So I used my smallest cookie scoop, a #100 disher.  I don't think this thing holds more than a teaspoon of matter.

Since I am going to blather on about the recipe for a while longer, I'm going to copy and paste the ingredients here so that you can refer to them (should you care) without clicking back and forth and back and forth between tabs.

Homemade Oreos
Retro Desserts, Wayne Brachman

Makes 25 to 30 sandwich cookies

For the chocolate wafers:
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup unsweetened Dutch process cocoa
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 to 1 1/2 cups sugar
1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons (1 1/4 sticks) room-temperature, unsalted butter
1 large egg

For the filling:
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) room-temperature, unsalted butter
1/4 cup vegetable shortening
2 cups sifted confectioners’ sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract

1. Set two racks in the middle of the oven. Preheat to 375 degrees.
2. In a food processor, or bowl of an electric mixer, thoroughly mix the flour, cocoa, baking soda and powder, salt, and sugar. While pulsing, or on low speed, add the butter, and then the egg. Continue processing or mixing until dough comes together in a mass.
3. Take rounded teaspoons of batter and place on a parchment paper-lined baking sheet approximately 2 inches apart. With moistened hands, slightly flatten the dough. Bake for 9 minutes, rotating once for even baking. Set baking sheets on a rack to cool.
4. To make the cream, place butter and shortening in a mixing bowl, and at low speed, gradually beat in the sugar and vanilla. Turn the mixer on high and beat for 2-3 minutes until filling is light and fluffy.
5. To assemble the cookies, in a pastry bag with a 1/2 inch, round tip, pipe teaspoon-size blobs of cream into the center of one cookie. Place another cookie, equal in size to the first, on top of the cream. Lightly press, to work the filling evenly to the outsides of the cookie. Continue this process until all the cookies have been sandwiched with cream. Dunk generously in a large glass of milk.

The ingredients include dutch-processed cocoa, which if you live anyplace with any sizable population and some culture, isn't hard to find.  Since I am living in the Midwest in a very small place, we don't need none of dat furin cocoa.  I found Hershey's Special Dark cocoa, though, and thought that since it says it is a blend of dutch-processed and regular cocoa, it should be close enough.  

Or - not.

They got huge.  And the 9 minute baking time is too much in my super-hot oven, they were some crispy critters after 9 minutes.  Instead of being the size of Oreos, or just ever-so-slightly larger, these things were the size of a whoopie pie, or a moon pie, or a lunar pie, depending on where you hail from.  If you're not a yank....they should have been about 4 cm in diameter, and instead were 10 cm in diameter.  

So that didn't end well.

If we're going to be scientific about the whole thing, you could theorize that since baking soda doesn't react with the alkali used to process "dutch-process" cocoa, and I didn't have the right cocoa, that having both baking powder AND soda made 'em huge.  Or that the longer oven stay made them bigger, as the butter continued to melt.  I'm not entirely sure.

The frosting for them was excellent, tasting exactly like I remember Oreos from my childhood.  With the frosting and cookies combined, though, it wasn't the heaven I was expecting.  The cookies tasted scorched, and were apt to fall apart with a bite instead of holding together.  But I could see how they'd be fantastique if they were done properly.  

The nagging mystery of what exactly went wrong, however, will continue to bother me until I get it figured out.

Edited 12/19 to add:

HOLY HOLY HOLY &*#%!!

After allowing the cookies to sit out in the open for about a day and a half, on my dining room table on cooling racks, I was contemplating trashing them all.  But maybe there was one that wasn't burnt, and the cream filling was yummy, so I poked around and picked one up and bit into it and O. Mi. God.  Other than over-baking most of them, and the fact that they were larger than they should have been, a day or so to cure was all these things needed to become amazing.  As in Ahhh-Maz-Ing amazing.  They taste like oreo cookies.  They taste like the oreo cookies I remember as a kid.  Yum.  Hey, Luce: just don't burn 'em next time, k?

Time to make the cookies!!

Remember the Dunkin' Donuts commercials from the 80s, where the poor guy got up every morning at an ungodly hour, with the tag line, "Time to make the donuts."?

It has been 'time to make the cookies' for several weeks now, and I've been busy doing just that.  I don't feel like the Dunkin' Donuts man, though, I truly enjoy making the cookies.

There was a cookie exchange earlier this month, and I pulled out my Swedish cookbooks in search of that elusive something different.  I found a great recipe (yes, I'll share, but not in this post, sorry) that translates to the unfortunate-sounding Nut Logs.  I made a test batch, and figured out quickly that those suckers couldn't stay at my house.  Way too buttery, way too good, way to get fat!  

I took them in to work, along with every other cookie I've experimented with this season, and I should have been prepared for the consequences.  Take the cookies, and everyone moans about how I'm ruining their diets.  Don't take in cookies, and they're annoyed that there is nothing to nosh on along with that all-important 3 o'clock cup of coffee to keep you going through the late afternoon.

Either way, they make me laugh.  The whining and moaning and complaining about how I'm ruining their diets mean that they're eating and, better, enjoying the cookies, so I take that as a compliment.  The whining that there are no cookies in the office kitchen (horrors!  whatever shall we do?)  also means that they like 'em.

There are 2 standbys for holiday cookies for me.  Coffee Cookies, which I have written about pretty extensively in the past, and Rose's Crescents, which I don't think I've written about before.  

In an attempt to at least stay awake until after 7 PM on Sunday night, I made the dough for the crescents, but they require a stay in the fridge, so I wasn't going to actually bake them that night.  Monday morning, I realized that it was Monday, and for about the last 6 weeks, I've taken a batch of cookies in on Mondays.  Uh-oh.  

When I take in cookies, I don't want to take just a dozen; first of all, that isn't enough and secondly, that isn't enough.  So I shaped and baked two dozen mini crescents at 6:30 in the morning.  Clearly, I'm nearly as insane as the author of the christmas cookie cookbook from which the crescents come.  The gingerbread house in the back of the cookbook is the Cathedral of Notre Dame, for heaven's sake.

Worth it, sure, for the happiness the crescents give anyone who eats them, but silly to fire up the oven and bake during the six o'clock hour.  I mean, really.

The crescents use ground almonds in place of some of the flour, and the resulting cookie is buttery, crumbly, and ohmigod delish.  This is good cookie to make if you're looking to impress someone, and actually have the patience to shape the crescents.

Almond Omigod Crescents

(adapted loosely from Rose's Christmas Cookies)

2/3 c finely ground almonds

1/3 c sugar

1-2/3 c flour

2 sticks of butter, cut into small cubes

1/4 tsp salt

Her directions spell out the way to make these either in the food processor or with a mixer.  Go with the food processor.  Trust me, easier.

I buy blanched slivered almonds, and grind them up in the food processor.  Add the sugar, and process until it is crumbly looking.  Add the butter (using the food processor, it doesn't necessarily need to be softened) and process again, briefly.  If you allow the dough to come together in a big ball at this stage, you will have to spend considerable time kneading in the flour by hand.  Again, trust me.  So minimal processing on the butter.  Take the lid off of the food processor, and sprinkle the flour over the top, along with the salt.  Process again, and this time, it is OK to allow it to come together in a ball.  Run it too long, though, and your food processor's motor will be unhappy with you.

Dump the contents of the working bowl out onto a big sheet of plastic wrap or wax paper, and shape into a large round flat disc.  You might have to knead in some of the bits no matter what you do, so if it looks like panko breading, allow the warmth of your hands to help it become more cohesive.  Spend 10 minutes or so just patiently kneading it until it has a consistent texture.  Let it hang out in the fridge for about two hours.

I use a small ice cream scoop (I think it is a #100 disher, to be exact) and use that to make little balls of dough.  Then I shape them into crescents by rolling them into a short snake between the palms of my hand.  I make it crescent shaped by draping it over the back of my index finger.  The book says 325F for 12-14 min, and even making them much smaller than the book's instructions with my #100 scoop, they still need just about that much time.  They should be only lightly browned on the bottoms, and hardly even golden on top.  The final pain-in-the-ass step can't be avoided, and perhaps makes these even fussier than they need to be.  You roll them while they're still warm in cinnamon-sugar.  Gently.  Really gently.  They're still kinda fragile.  Cool on wire racks.  Eat.  Rinse & repeat.

The recipe claims that it makes 5-1/2 dozen 3-inch long crescents.  I don't know how the heck that happens, because when I make them following the directions to the letter I still don't get that many.  And people, I never follow directions to the letter.  Ever.  Recipes and patterns are a starting point, a road map, but not the be-all end-all.  The recipe directions say to shape 3/4 inch diameter balls into 3 inch long crescents; but the picture in the book shows big, big fat-looking cookies, and making them 3 inches long makes for skinny puppies.  To illustrate how much I followed the directions to the letter, I even used a ruler for a few of them.  Finally, in the end, I threw up my hands and decided I'd make them like I want them to look.  Really you could skip all the fussy-fussy shaping and just make them round.  They won't work as cut-out cookies, but you could make them any shape you cared to.

Secrets to spill

My friend S owns a salon.  I found her in the phone book, but in yet another demonstration of how small my hometown really is, S was close friends with my cousin J when they were both in high school.  J wasn't really one for having her nails/hair done, but before she passed away, she used to spend time hanging out at the salon.  I didn't discover this until I'd been going to S's place for a couple of years, hilariously.  

After going there for more than 10 years, I consider S a good friend.  She teases me during the holiday season, because I bring cookies and other hand-made gifts to her and her staff; she tells me all the time: "You're so crafty!" and I snark back: "Martha Stewart is crafty.  I'm creative, which is way cooler than 'crafty'!"

But I've never thought that the stuff I make for holiday giving is all that difficult.  Bath salts, hand lotion, sometimes vanilla sugar, always cookies, usually one or two knit things.   Nothing that requires a degree in food science, chemistry, or really, a high skill level.

I don't know where I got the idea for the bath salts.  Can't remember.  I've been doing it for about 9 years now, and it couldn't be easier.  The ingredients are 4 things.  Yeah, seriously.  

1. Epsom salts (from any big box retailer or drugstore)

2. Sea salts (from an online supplier, or sometimes the health food store)

3. Lavender essential oil (again online or health food store)

4. Water-soluble colorant (totally optional, but fun.  From the same place as the sea salts.)

Equipment required:

2 buckets, 5-gallon size work well for me

a large spoon, like they used in your elementary school cafeteria for serving food (one you don't care about, because really, you don't want to use it for food after making bath salts)

about a half-hour of time

jars to put the finished product into

a funnel to get the salts into the jars (one of these works best if your jars have a wide enough mouth)

I don't really use a recipe; I've just done it long enough that I don't need directions.  You can Google "making bath salts" but many of the recipes call for glycerine (so not necessary) or baking soda or obscure soap-making ingredients like rhassoul clay....I call all of that "trying to re-invent the wheel" because they're making it so much harder than it needs to be.

I mix the two kinds of salts one bucket.  I should probably note here that I use equal amounts of sea salts and epsom salts.  That's an important detail, sorry.  I measure out the required amount of lavender. Which really is a personal preference kind of thing.  For roughly 20 pounds of salt, I use about an ounce or an ounce and a half of essential oil.  Yes, it is strong.  Yes, it makes the whole house smell like lavender (and that's a problem....why, exactly?).  

No one has ever complained to me that hey, Luce, the bath salts are great, but couldja scale back the lavender?  Ever.  

The next step almost requires three hands, but I manage OK by myself.  I pour the salts in a steady stream from one bucket to the other, and pour the lavender oil into that stream of salts.  Of course this results in clumps of heavily-saturated salts, so that's where the spoon comes in.  You stir.  And stir.  And stir some more.  When the oil is fairly evenly distributed, I use the same process to add the colorant, pouring carefully and slowly, and then stirring some more.

So your spoon ends up purple-ish, and smelling like a perfumery.  I strongly suggest washing it by hand several times before putting into your dishwasher, or all of your dishes will end up with a soupcon of lavender-scent.  But it has taken me longer to type this out than it does to make the salts.

The vanilla sugar is even easier; plain old white granulated sugar and a couple of vanilla beans are the ingredients; cut the vanilla beans in half lengthwise, scrape out the seeds, combine the sugar and vanilla in the food processor, pulse to combine, put into clear glass jars.  Whoa, rocket science, eh? This year I used half-pint mason jars, which hold about 2/3 of a cup of sugar; I used 4 vanilla beans and using a measuring cup that is a 2/3 cup, scooped eight of those 2/3 cups into the food processor's working bowl.  Somehow, though, I ended up with 9 half pint jars.  Maybe I can't count.  I wanted 12, but the food processor wouldn't hold that much, and the food processor is very noisy, so because I finished the first batch after 9 PM and DH was trying to sleep, I decided to make the rest another night.

The funny thing to me is that people are so impressed with this stuff; the vanilla sugar takes maybe 10 minutes to put together, and that's if you're slow cutting the vanilla beans.  The bath salts take a few minutes longer, but the ingredients are cheap, easy to come by, and folks, this is simple.  

The hand lotion is easy too, and I wish I could claim that as an original idea.  Nope.  I buy a kit from the same online supplier, although whilst searching for the kit today, I can't find it on her site; good thing I bought two of the kits when she had a sale this summer!  I don't make it exactly per the directions (oooh, shocker, right?) I add Shea butter, usually purchased on eBay, and lavender.  Thematic, anyone?  But the incredibly cool thing about this stuff is that it is solid at room temperature, which means that it will never spill.  It can melt, but doesn't spill because the kit comes with little tubes, slightly larger than a chapstick tube, with a solidly-closing cap.  So very very clever.  Also takes about a half hour to make.

Most of my holiday gift-giving secrets, shared with teh interwebs.  I'm just not telling you about my re-gifting plans.

...and how did she forget the taters?

As MotherMe noted....the cranberry bread recipe is nice, but ya left out the potato casserole recipe.

Well, yes.

There was sort of a reason I did, though.

I am not a fan of pre-packaged anything.  Sure, I admit, I use cake mixes from time to time.  There's a coffee cake that I make which can be made from scratch or by using that stuff that rhymes with smishquick; guess which one gets made more often.  And I admit to the sin of using condensed soups from time to time while cooking.  

But mostly, I belong to both the Eat Local and Slow Foods schools of thought.  Buy fresh local ingredients whenever you can is the Eat Local bit.  Slow Food, as one might suspect, is the antithesis of fast food; i.e., something that you take time to make, and take time to enjoy.

So I cringe both to admit that I love, love, LOVE this potato casserole and that it includes several things that usually are not in my house, let alone in my lexicon.

And after all that moaning and wailing, when you actually see the recipe, you will probably be asking what I'm fussing over.

Auntie B's Cheesy Potatoes

Oven 350F (175C)

2 pound bag frozen hash brown potatoes (cubes, not shredded) 

1/2 stick of butter

1/2 tsp salt

1 tsp pepper

1/2 c chopped onion

1 can condensed cream of chicken soup 

16 oz sour cream

8 oz package shredded cheese (no particular type...Auntie B probably uses cheddar.)

Mix all ingredients in a bowl, reserving a small amount of cheese to sprinkle over the top.  Pour into a casserole dish, sprinkle remaining cheese over the casserole, and bake at 350 for 50-60 minutes.  

Auntie B used to put corn flakes on the top, too, which sounds bizarre until you taste it....I think she tossed the corn flakes with melted butter and then put them on top.  In the last few years, though, she's stopped doing that, and I can attest to the fact that it is good without them, too.  Don't try substituting croutons or bread crumbs for the cornflakes, it lacks the....flair? of the cornflakes.

What would I do differently?  The bagged frozen potatoes, outta there, just on principal.  Bagged frozen potatoes!  *scoffs* The very idea.  The cream of chicken condensed soup would be tossed for its mystery ingredients and high salt content.  The package of shredded cheese, also chucked out for its mystery ingredients...have you ever actually READ the labels on some of that stuff?  The corn flakes, for their corn syrup and associated yuckiness.

Which would leave us with the butter, sour cream, salt, pepper, and onions.  I've never tried to make this recipe using more, shall we say, natural ingredients, but I suspect that I would not like it nearly as well, because we're all so accustomed to the mystery ingredients that it seems to be missing something without them.

Maybe next year.

Food Meme of Sorts

I wrote about searching for a cranberry quickbread recipe a few days ago, bemoaning the fact that my improvised recipe hadn't turned out quite the way I intended.  The recipe I was trying to re-create was something that I knew I had made in Girl Scouts many years ago as a Christmas project.  I don't really remember why we made cranberry bread; maybe to give to a nursing home?  Or to earn a kitchen safety badge?  Skit samma, as we say på Svenska.  Doesn't really matter.

My mother reads my blog from time to time (hi Mom!) and she saw the post.  She has the recipe with her at their warm and sunny winter residence (as to that...we have snow on the ground and are forecast about 5 more inches of snow by tomorrow morning, so I say :ppppp) and she e-mailed the recipe to me.  I went wrong in not including butter, not using enough baking powder, and, of course, not using enough sugar.  I'm always trying to figure out ways to cut granulated white sugar out of things, and the resulting end product is usually a little....tart.  Duh.

As I recall, though, this cranberry bread wasn't tart, and was not usually what you'd expect from any recipe with fresh cranberries as an ingredient.

(Don't worry, I'll share the recipe at the end of the post.)

That's item #1 to make for the (count them) TWO Thanksgiving dinners I am going to.

Next I had to call my mother's sister, my Auntie B, to get her recipe for a potato casserole; when we were kids, we always called it "Cheesy Potatoes," and looked forward to it each holiday season.  I suspect that this is a recipe she got off of the back of a package of one of the ingredients, but I've never asked about the origins.  I've never made it myself, either, but it isn't hard.  That would be item #2 I'm making for Thanksgiving.

Finally, in a mostly vain attempt to banish that icky cranberry glop that comes out of a can from the Thanksgiving table, I'm going to make a cranberry relish.  I made that for the first Thanksgiving I shared with DH's family.  Unfortunately, I can't remember where I got the recipe, and I haven't had time to look for it yet.  That'd be item #3.

Thank the gentle goddess that *I'm* not making the entire dinner, because I'd really rather not.

So here's the meme part; what is an unexpected essential part of YOUR Thanksgiving dinner?  Not the traditional turkey, dressing, mashed 'taters, sweet potato, green bean casserole.  Post it & share the recipe.  

Grandma's Fancy Cranberry Bread

1 loaf 9X5  greased pan

 

Bake for 1 hour 10 min @ 350

 

2 cups flour

1 cup sugar

1 1/2 t Baking pwd

1 t salt

1/2 t baking soda

1/4 cup of butter

1 egg beaten

1 t grated Orange peel

3/4 cup O juice

1 1/2 c yellow raisins

1 1/2 cup fresh cranberry chopped

 

Sift flour all dry ingredients cut butter into mix until crumbly; add egg, OJ, and orange peel.  Fold in raisins and cranberries.  DO NOT ADD NUTS (n.b., apparently, nut oils react badly chemically with one of the ingredients, and it ruins the bread.)

Pour into prepared loaf pan & bake.

Can We Fix It?

I don't have children, so don't ask me why or how I know the theme song from the children's show Bob The Builder, but the song asks, "can we fix it?"  and then answers itself at top volume with a "YES WE CAN!" and is very cute in the way that annoying children's shows can be.

I made some muffins from scratch, and they didn't turn out quite the way I would have liked.  Not quite sweet enough; didn't rise as high as I wanted them to; stuck to the muffin tins because I was out of paper liners (horrors!!); and perhaps in general too....busy, I guess...flavor-wise.  But not un-fixable, not at all.

When I was in Girl Scouts, many years ago, we made a cranberry-orange quick-bread that everyone who tasted, loved.  I have no idea where the recipe is, but were I to guess, I would guess that it is with my mother's stack of hand-written recipes, in her closed-up-for-the-winter Ohio house.  Not impossible to lay my hands on, but we all know how much I like to bake and play in the kitchen, so of course I decided I don't need a recipe.  Recipe-schmecipe.  The half-hour drive to the parent's Ohio house is a deterrent, too, with gas at the current price.  If I'm not out that way to begin with....well, I'm not running out there just to fetch a recipe.

Fresh cranberries are here, and while I hate, despise, and detest that icky cranberry glop that comes out of cans and shows up on many American Thanksgiving tables, I like fresh cranberries and enjoy making things with them.  So I gave in to temptation at a farmer's market yesterday and bought some.

I used lemon zest and golden raisins too, and when I get that recipe to where it ought to be, I'll share.  In the meantime, I've got to make another batch.  Darn.

Pommes Galettes

Yet another link that's missing from my sidebar is Smitten Kitchen. I don't always want to run right out and make whatever she's making (really, most of the time I'd rather she just delivered it straight to my belly! ;-) but I am always inspired.

I don't remember reading a recipe for Apple Galettes on her site, but I'm sure there's something just like what I did today, somewhere. Or, perhaps, I just feel like this is something she might do.

According to The Joy of Cooking....

(Were I to have a holy book for the kitchen, Joy would be it. My go-to for any term, fruit, vegetable, technique, or direction for things I am unfamiliar with.)

A galette consists of a flat crust of pastry or bread dough covered with sugar, pastry cream or a thin layer of fruit. Most galettes are simply made (check) and rustic in look. (definite check plus there)

Thanks to the inventive re-engineering of my apple peeler-corer-slicer by someone with a weeee bit more of a clue when it comes to, oh, reassembling stuff than me, I've been anxious to bake either an apple pie, or apple dumplings. I don't bake cherry or peach pies, and I'm not into the extreme fussiness a meringue pie takes, but apple? Sign me up. The problem with dumplings, though, is that I want to eat them. More than one of them, which would constitute the entire sugar intake for a small country for a year. Pies are problematic, too. I want more than a slice. Since it is just DH and me in our house, unless we're having company, no pie. Too much temptation.

Galettes can be as big or as small as you like, so I decided I'd use the peeler-corer-slicer (thanks F!) and make a bunch of individual little pies. One or two for DH and I, and the rest would be taken straight to work, where my co-workers are the lucky recipients of most of what I bake. I like to think of that as a win-win...I get to bake, which I enjoy, and they get to eat it, which they enjoy. The only downside is that they complain about their expanding waistlines. (Hello? Why do you think I take it to work? I don't need that at my house!!!) Truth is that I don't bake, knit, or cook for people I don't like, so draw whatever conclusions you like about that.

Pommes Galettes avec gousse de vanille

Apple galettes with vanilla bean

Oven 350/makes 16

For the filling:

16 apples, any variety that bakes well, peeled, cored, and sliced

2 cups sugar

1 tbsp cinnamon (more or less to taste, I like A LOT)

1/2 tsp allspice

1/2 tsp nutmeg

1/2 vanilla bean, sliced lengthwise and seeds scraped out

1 stick butter

zest of 1 lemon

juice of 1 lemon

For the crust (adapted from Joy)

make 2 batches

2-1/2 cups flour

1 tbsp powdered sugar

1 tsp salt

1 cup lard, or butter, cold or frozen

1/3 cup ice cold water

Because the dough works better when cold, make the crust first, and stick it in the fridge while making the filling.

I make pie crust in the food processor, because I am lazy and impatient. Sue me.

In the working bowl of the food processor, place flour, sugar, and salt, and pulse for 10 seconds to combine. Add the fat cut into small pieces, and pulse for just seconds at a time, until the dough looks like pea-sized crumbs. Pour water over dough, and pulse briefly again. Do not allow the dough to come together in a big lump in the food processor, it isn't good for the motor.

Dump the contents of the working bowl onto a large piece of plastic wrap, and shape into a flat disk. Wrap in plastic and refrigerate until needed.

Peel, core, and slice apples. Use the lemon juice to keep them from turning brown, a little sprinkled over the slices as you add them to a big bowl works well. Add zest, cinnamon, allspice, nutmeg and vanilla seeds, mixing well to combine. Taste a slice....add sugar or seasonings as appropriate if needed.

Separate each disk of dough into 8 equal portions, and roll each out to about an 8 inch diameter. Spoon sliced apples into the middle, and fold corners up to form a little tart. Dot tops of each tart with butter.

I placed them 4 to a cookie sheet, and baked them for about 45 minutes. When the crust browns a little and the apples are tender, they're done.

Maybe the reason I've never written a cookbook is because my directions are too vague...bake until done....that's priceless, Luce.

Remove from cookie sheets as soon as they're out of the oven (carefully!!) and cool on wire racks. The galettes are very fragile, use caution as you transfer them to the racks. They're going to present a challenge to get them to work intact.

Anywho, Joy says galettes are best served on the day they're made, but who in the bloody hell has time to make something like this on a weekday morning to take in to work, where you need to be at your desk before 8? Not me. So I'll have to let you know how they were the second day, because I can tell you that right out of the oven they're A-M-A-Z-I-N-G. And slightly dangerous...the caramelized sugar/butter mixture is a bit like napalm on the tongue.

The vanilla bean is an expensive indulgence, but I liked the note it added to the galettes. It is optional. I would have liked to add chopped pecans to each galette, too, but there are a few people in the office that can't do nuts, so I left 'em out. If I was making these for a dinner party, I'd add about a tablespoon of chopped roasted almonds or pecans to each galette, because I like the crunch, too.

Hmm, maybe the challenge won't be getting them to work intact, maybe it will be getting them to work at all. They're really good. I may have to lock them up or hide them so they don't get eaten before tomorrow morning.

On the evils of HFCS

I saw a commercial the other day, produced by a pro-farming lobby firm about high fructose corn syrup.  It features a guy and a girl, on a blanket, in a park, sharing a picnic.  The girl pulls out a Popsicle, and offers the guy a bite.  He declines.  She then offers him two bites, and he responds by saying, "I thought you loved me."  

"I do." she says.  

"Then why are you trying to give me something that is full of high fructose corn syrup?" he asks, all plaintive.  

"What's wrong with corn syrup?" she asks.  

He flounders around for an explanation, and she gives him a rapid fire litany of facts about HFCS, that it has the same number of calories as sugar or honey, it isn't bad for you, everything in moderation, blah blah.

If you hadn't known before that second that the commercial was produced by some corn conglomerate, you did at that point. *eye roll*  But they are kind enough to put the words on the screen at the bottom, at the end of the commercial.  

Sure, HFCS probably does have the same number of calories as honey or sugar.  And if HFCS was the ONLY sweetener in that Popsicle, it wouldn't be as bad.  But the problem is that there is sugar, HFCS, fructose, and sucrose in a whole lot of sweet treats.  You're getting sugar on top of sugar, and would you like more sugar with your sugar?  Plus, HFCS has been refined ad nauseum, and is a pretty far removed thing from the cornfields of Iowa and Oh-hia-ia.  

What is making us fat, America?  Soda, processed sugars, fast food, gargantuan portion sizes.  Guess what is in the average can of soda produced and bottled here in the US?  HFCS.  And sugar.  And at least one or two other sweeteners.  

Guess how I lost a whole lot of that 43 pounds?  I didn't eat anything that had HFCS in it.  I read labels, obsessively.  I put it back on the shelf in the supermarket if HFCS was in it, I asked for ingredient lists at my favorite restaurants, I searched foodie websites to see what has lots of corn syrup.

Granted, I did a whole lot of other things, too.  Worked my tail off (literally!) in the gym.  Controlled my portions.  Removed a lot of the processed, prepackaged stuff from my kitchen and my life.  Focused on fresh veggies and fruits, not fruit juices and canned gunk full of salt.  Avoided fast food as much as possible.  Denied myself desserts and didn't take every. single. opportunity. presented to indulge my sweet tooth.

Is HFCS dangerous?  I dunno.  I do know that as a conscious consumer, I can (and do) choose to not eat it.  But don't tell me that it is as good for you as honey is.  I know better.  You do, too.

Noxious Reek

I have been itching to try my hand at making sushi. There is a point of order here, though. 1. Not all sushi has raw fish as an ingredient and 2. sushi is actually the name of the rice, not the rolls themselves. Sashimi is the raw fish. I would not ever try to make sashimi at home. Leave that sort of thing to the experts, please.

I wanted to make maki-zushi, the rolls that have nori (sheets of seaweed) on the outside. They look easy enough. I'd put carrots and cucumbers and whatever else occurred to me at the time inside the rolls with the rice on the outside, cut them, and put them in my bento box for lunch. Awww, how cute, sushi in the bento box, right? Yeah, that's what I thought.

It took several different tries to find nori in the grocery store. Sushi rice, that's very easy to come by. A bamboo mat for rolling, yep, that's easy too. Nori, not so much. When I finally found it, the packet was filled with what felt like brittle sheets of rice paper, and they weren't quite the same color as what I've been used to in restaurants, but what do I know about nori? Not much.

I stashed it in the cupboard until I had time to mess with it.

I purposefully made more rice than would be needed for dinner one night, and after cleaning the kitchen from the mess I made making dinner, I cleared a workspace, laid down the bamboo mat, and found the kitchen scissors to cut open the packet of nori. The nori packet had detailed instructions (in English, natch) and looked fairly simple. No more complex than making a jelly-roll. I can do that.

I laid the sheet of nori on the mat, and covered it with rice as suggested, laid out my fillings, and rolled the roll. It was easy, but as I gave the roll a firm little push to seal the end, a smell rose from the nori that literally turned my stomach. Ulk. I'm going to eat this? Hmmm, perhaps maki-zushi wasn't such a smart idea. But I persevered, finding a knife to cut the long roll into little guys that look like the traditional roll.

Cutting it made it worse; I walked away from the roll TWICE to breathe some better air before I admitted defeat. I was never going to eat anything that smelled like that. Into the trash it went. But it released more of its eau de stench in the trash can in my kitchen, quickly permeating the whole kitchen. So I hustled it outside, better in the dumpster than making me nauseous every time I walked through the kitchen. I hate to throw away food, I hate contributing to the excessive waste in this country. I didn't see much of an alternative; I bet if we had a cat, the cat wouldn't have eaten it either.

It smelled like dead fish, but worse. Three days floating on top of the water dead fish. Plus something else, something like an earthy rotting vegetable smell.

What went wrong here?


Those of you who are smart-asses are saying, "Well, Luce, what went wrong is that you were trying to make sushi." Yeah, thanks. Bastards.

You'd think that Ohio wouldn't be all that culturally diverse, and mostly, you'd be right. But the nori took several attempts to find because everywhere I went, they were out of it. Yeah, they carried it, and yeah, there's the shelf tag that says NORI, but there was no nori.

I think the problem is that there's not such a great demand, and the stuff sits longer on the shelf than it ought to. The color should have tipped me off, too. Any time I've had maki-zushi in restaurants, the nori is a green so dark that it is nearly black, and smooth. This was a dark forest-y green, and bumpy. Should you soak them first? I can't imagine that would help; they'd fall apart as soon as they got in the water. As noted above, as well, the smell got worse as it sat there, absorbing some of the moisture from the rice.

Most of the time when I have a culinary boo-boo, I'll figure why it didn't turn out as I expected, make a few notes on the recipe if there is one, and I'll try it again. Sometimes again and again and again until I figured out where the misstep was.

I'm not so sure I'll be giving maki-zushi with nori a second shot.

Jammin'

A few weekends ago, I devoted myself to the making of some strawberry jam. I went out and picked the berries (in a rainstorm, of course, I live in Ohio.) and made the jam in my very own kitchen. Jarred it, too. I ended up with 15 half-pint jars, which looked so very pretty sitting on the counter to cool. I had the idea that I'd take pictures of the whole process, but that didn't happen. Typical.

When I was a little girl, my mother canned all sorts of things. Jams, both strawberry and pear-apple. Soup, her homemade tomato. Tomato sauce. Hot peppers. Sometimes, she did this with one of her sisters. Other times with a friend. Canning is hot, heavy work, and it is helpful to have another set of hands.

During my sister's undergraduate days, she started canning to save money, and she inherited all of Mum's canning supplies. I have no problem with that, she'll use it more than I ever will. It is just tough to borrow it when it is in New York City.

Proper tools for any job are essential. But in a pinch, improvisation works too. I don't own a particularly deep stock pot. Nor the rack that submerges in the boiling water that holds the jars. I didn't think I'd have a problem, as I used little jars, but it was very much a pain in the persqueeter.

It did work, though. As I removed each jar from the boiling water, I set them on a kitchen towel laid out on the countertop, just like my mother used to do. There's a little "pop" sound that the jars make when the seal is sealed, peculiar to canning. DH was upstairs while I was working on this project, and he called down to me, "What's that noise? Is it supposed to be happening?" I had to laugh; my mother always said that was the sound of successful canning. So yes, it is supposed to be happening, and is, in fact, desirable.

The jars were so pretty lined up on the countertop, like I had jarred rubies rather than strawberries. I was worried about it "setting" properly. Jam is supposed to be jammy, not runny, and I wasn't sure it was going to work. I'd called my mother for advice, and she told me she'd always used the recipe printed on the inside of the boxes of pectin she used. Well enough, I pulled out the paper and read the directions for "freezer canning" "pressure canning" "sugar-free canning" and about 10 other variations of fruit jam recipes. None of them, of course, that related to the amount of berries I had on hand, and they weren't easily scalable.

I improvised there, too.

My mother had warned against experimentation, as she knows I'm prone to do so, and the pectin boxes had dire warnings about using the exact amounts of sugar and pectin called for in the recipe. Meh. The amounts of sugar suggested were appalling. I did more than cut it in half; I sweetened the crushed berries, tasted them, added more berries and sugar until they were just a little more tart than I thought they should be (as cooking the jam intensifies the flavors) and prepared it from there.

It worked, and it worked beautifully. The jam is NOT the over-sweet stuff you find in the grocery store, in fact it is about perfect if you ask me. It jelled nicely, too. I've given away about 11 of those half-pints, so excited to share it with friends and family. DH had asked WTH we were going to do with 15 jars of jam, and I thought perhaps I'd save 'em to give as holiday presents. Nah, that's too long to wait!

I had intended to sweeten some of the jam with raw honey, but forgot at the crucial moment to separate out a portion of the crushed berries to experiment with the honey, and the next thing I knew, the whole batch had been sugar-sweetened. Ooops.

That just gives me an excuse to go pick more berries, and try again.

I just hope next time that the regge song, "jammin'" stays out of my head, because that's all I was singing the whole time I was making the batch.

Dessert Fiend

I am a sucker for a well-written recipe. I admit it. My geek-factor knows no limits. Yes, I will read a cookbook, cover to cover, just like a novel. The result of years of this behavior is that I don't really need a recipe to construct something, because of the enormous amount of trivia that resides in my head. Want to make a quickbread? (Muffins, cornbread, banana bread & the like) I know the basic formula, and can toss it together with little trouble. Likewise just about anything else. So, sure, there are practical applications to this knowledge.

But I also find that I'm a sucker for the recipes on the back of packages of anything; the oatmeal canister lists recipes for oatmeal cookies, the bag of coconut has macaroon recipes, heck, even the tinned tomatoes I toss in all sorts of things for dinner have suggestions about what to use them for.

Lest we think this is a uniquely Yankee sort of thing, I have to point out that even the Swedish stuff that I buy from IKEA-land's little grocery store (products produced in Sweden, things that are hard to find here, like Vanilj Sas, {vanilla sauce} Nippon Soppa {rose-hip soup} and various other things) have recipes on the back of the boxes. One of my favorite "wow" desserts comes from the back of a box of vanilla sauce, which is perhaps best described to the American palate as a kind of thin vanilla pudding that's used as a sauce for all sort of desserts, notably Swedish Apple Cake.

The instructions were simple, perhaps three lines of Swedish text printed next to a picture of a skinned, baked pear, with the top cut off and almonds spilling out of the hollowed-out center, the little cap balanced rather precariously back on top of the nuts.

"Hollow out and core a pear," it suggested, "and stuff the hollowed space with a mixture of almond, cinnamon, and corn syrup. Bake at 175'C for 15-20 minutes or until the pear is tender. Serve warm, with vanilla sauce."

Simple. Elegant. I first noticed this at about 20 years old, and made it for a family gathering of DH's, back when he was The Boyfriend. DH's brother raved about it, as did almost everyone who tasted it. So I've kept the recipe and pulled it out over the years when I've needed a wow kind of dessert. I've made a few changes, though, feeling as I do these days that corn syrup is right up there next to the teevee laugh track on the scale of evil things on this earth. Honey is a more-than-acceptable substitute, and is even (gasp) good for you.

Shortcuts for this would be to use canned pears, but I must point out that canned pears are canned in heavy syrup 99.99% of the time, and even rinsing the pears does not remove the ridiculous amount of sugar that resides in them after being canned in that nasty stuff. Use fresh pears unless you have no other alternative.

Ingredients

6 ripe pears, peeled, cored, and centers hollowed out, tops cut off and kept for presentation
3/4 to 1 cup almonds or pecans, or a mixture of the two, roughly chopped (the amount needed will depend on how large your pears are)
1/3 to 1/2 cup honey
2 tsp cinnamon
1 packet vanilla sauce (substitute sugar free instant vanilla pudding, thinned out so that it could be poured out of a gravy boat)

Instructions

Make the vanilla sauce/pudding, and set aside in the refrigerator.

Mix nuts, honey, and cinnamon in a bowl. Spoon into hollowed out pears, overstuffing them. Put the caps back on. Place the pears in a lightly greased 9x13 glass baking dish, and bake at 350'F until the pears are tender. (about 15-20 minutes) For additional flavor, spoon a small amount of honey over each pear during the baking process. Serve warm, with chilled vanilla sauce.

A wee bit of a sugar buzz, just the thing to combat the creeping crud and the blahs. Honestly, though, this is not an unhealthy dessert. A serving is ONE pear, and although nuts are high in fat, you're not getting an overdose of them here. Likewise honey is high in sugar, but again, better for you than refined sugar or *shudder* corn syrup. Since vanilla sauce isn't widely available, using skim milk to make sugar free vanilla pudding, and adding about two tablespoons of it to each pear isn't adding anything miserable either. So relax. Eat one. Savor it.

Disguises

My M-I-L got me a cookbook for Christmas. My addiction to all literature of baking, cooking, entertaining etc is well-documented on this site. So I was thrilled. When I opened it, and noticed the subtitle (Simple Secrets to Get Your Kids Eating Good Food) I raised an eyebrow; she quickly explained that she hadn't realized that it was aimed mostly at kid-friendly recipes.

"That's OK," I replied cheerfully. "Its a cookbook. I'll use it!"

"Told ya so!" DH exclaimed triumphantly from his corner. Apparently, they'd had a "discussion" (read that disagreement) over whether or not she ought take the book back.

I'd seen Jessica Seinfeld's book in bookstores during the holidays, but hadn't leafed through it after noticing that it was aimed at families with young children. Seeing as I don't have any and all.

There's some controversy and she's being sued over the book for supposedly taking the idea from someone else, but *shrug* I just don't really care about the hoopla.

I like the book. There are a few things that I don't like; she's hyper-focused on getting her kids to eat their vegetables, but there isn't much in there about organics or focusing on cutting down carbs, and too many places where she's using ingredients like margarine spreads that I think have no place in any kitchen, too many artificial ingredients. That's really me nit-picking, though...in this age of fast food for dinner all the time, the fact that she and Jerry actually cook a real dinner for their kids is commendable. And note the artificial flavoring (banana candy flavoring) I suggested that you use in my Banana Cake recently...I have all sorts of rationalizations for it (DH likes a stronger banana flavor, I spent a small fortune on the teeny-tiny bottle and might as well use it up, there's no sugar in the stuff...) so I've got no room to throw stones and I'm sure she's got her reasons for icky artificial margarine. No one said I had to use it.

So the premise of the book is this; rather than fight with your super-picky eater kids about "EAT YOUR VEGETABLES, DAMMIT!" hide the veggies in things they like to eat by using pureed veggies in things like spaghetti sauce, chicken nuggets, sloppy joes, mac & cheese, and even burgers. Not a bad idea, really. I kind of had a V-8 moment when I started reading it...why the hell didn't *I* think of that?

Another thing I'm not crazy about is her assumption that she needs to teach you to cook from square 1; it comes off as condescending, in my ever-so-humble. I'm probably a better cook than you are, Miss Hollywood Wife, so let's skip the "what is a steamer" section, mmkay? Not that I'm egotistical about my culinary abilities, not at allllllllllllll. Where'd ya get that idea?

I don't usually cook vegetables; I like a green salad better than cooked broccoli any day, and eating cooked spinach rates right up there with a root canal as far as I'm concerned. Unless we're talking about spinach and artichoke dip, or a spin/artichoke appetizer I make that also has sour cream and creme cheese in it, so not good for you. There are some vegetables that I'd like to prepare (squash, among other things) that DH just turns his nose right up over, and aren't worth my irritation when he won't eat it.

DH will tell you that he's not a picky eater. I disagree. I'm adventurous when it comes to food, I'll try just about anything once. I have firm opinions about what I do and don't like, but something new? Sure, I'll give it a shot. I discovered sushi and curry, both of which I like, by saying, "sure, I'll have a bite of that, what is it?" I have tried reindeer, (didn't agree with my tummy) lutefisk (ugh) and a whole bunch of other oddities. When in Rome and all that. DH, on the other hand, is sort of a meat-and-potatoes kinda guy. Nothing wrong with that. I just like a bit more variety.

I'm giving it a shot; I bought 2 bags of baby spinach, steamed them and pureed them, put them in 1/2 cup portions and tossed them in the freezer just like she suggests. I also steamed a whole head of cauliflower (add that to the list of things I'd rather eat raw) and roasted an entire butternut squash. The head of cauliflower yielded the most, a cup and a half of finished product.

The first thing I sneakily put veggies into was homemade mac & cheese, following MotherMe's recipe. (I did make a few changes; see below.) The book suggests cauliflower OR butternut squash for additions to mac & cheese. I had both purees, but since I was using Colby and cheddar with a hint of Monterey jack, the squash seemed more likely to blend in color-wise.


In the interest of the additional 23 pounds I still need to lose, I cut out the really yummy half & half and used skim instead of whole milk, along with a reduced-fat cheddar, after carefully reading the label to make sure there was nothing icky in it. I also added a whole onion, pureed and quickly browned in a skillet, with 2 cloves of garlic. Then for the protien additions; I added 12 strips of bacon, browned super-crisp and crumbled up, and two diced (pre-cooked) chicken breasts. I didn't need the additional liquid from the half & half, because the puree of squash was pretty liquid-y, and I popped it in the oven only long enough to brown the top.

The result? Good! It was a bit too sweet...I think using a sweet onion probably had a lot to do with that, and next time I'll use a regular old white onion. And the squash is kinda sweet too, so I'll give the cauliflower a shot the next time around. DH didn't love it; but he ate it without too much complaint. I didn't think it was necessary to inform him that there was both onion and butternut squash in his mac & cheese; he blamed the taste being "off" to him on a head cold he's suffering from. We had it again the next day for lunch, and in my ever-so-humble, it was better the next day.

There are a ton of things I can't wait to try in this book. She even manages to squeeze veggies into baked goods...it will be interesting to see how that works out. I could do without the parenting tips on every third page, too, but whatev.

O NO GMO

I was watching a bit of Headline News this morning, and adorable-as-hell Robin Meade did a tease for a story about cloned cattle being one step closer to being on your supermarket shelves.

WTF? No, wait, seriously. What the fuck?

The Washington Post has an old piece slanted in the pro direction; even though they quote a survey that says 63% of respondents were opposed to serving cloned milk and meat at their tables.

Then there's this vid from CNN itself that warns against the possible health risks.

Gentle Goddess, this is horrifying news.

The FDA isn't even going to label things as being cloned; the CNN bit quotes someone from the FDA as saying "Cloned products will be so similar that there will be no need for labels."

How about because you don't want to eat that shit, how's that for a reason? A damn good one, too, if you ask me.

I don't eat red meat; not because I'm vegetarian, but mostly because I really don't like it. A perfectly cooked steak holds absolutely no appeal for me. The reports are talking about cloned cows, and pigs, but not yet chicken. I'm sure that's next on the list.

Fortunately, I do know where to get both chicken and beef from local producers, folks who use organic methods and I can trust. It isn't convenient to buy from either of them, but I'll take the inconvenience over not knowing where the hell the food on my plate comes from.

What is next?

Y'know what...I don't really want an answer to that.


Speaking of being vegetarian, I baked a vegan cake the other day for DH's birthday. My nephew is allergic to eggs, so I'm always looking for recipes for baked goods that don't have eggs. The holiday cookies that I bake with the kids can't have eggs or nuts in them, which makes finding recipes tough. I thought DH's birthday cake would be a good place to experiment, because I had no butter, no eggs, no sour cream and no cream cheese in the house, so a cheesecake was out.

Adapted from The Joy of Cooking

Bouncing Banana Birthday Cake

Makes 1 8x8 square cake. For layers, or bundt cake, double the recipe.

Oven 350

Whisk together in a large bowl
1-1/2 c unbleached flour
1 c turbinado sugar (sold under the brand name Sugar in the Raw)
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt

In the food processor, combine
2 bananas
1 c water
1/3 c oil (or unsweetened applesauce, or a combination of the two)
1 tsp vinegar
1 tbsp vanilla
1-2 drops banana creme candy flavoring (completely optional)

and blend until smooth. Dump the wet ingredients over the dry ingredients, and mix well. Pour into a greased and floured 8x8 pan and bake until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, 30-35 minutes. Cool on rack in pan 10 minutes and remove from pan. Allow to cool completely before frosting or decorating.


I didn't bother to frost it either time I made it; once, in the square pan just for DH, and the second time in a bundt pan for his family's celebration of his birthday. I used all oil the first time and mostly applesauce the second time. It was definitely more dry the 2nd time around, which just means I've got to tinker with it to find the right mix of oil and applesauce to lower the fat but keep that cake texture. Another change that I made the 2nd time around was to use 1/2 Splenda instead of all turbinado sugar, for my diabetic M-I-L's sake.

I have to say, it turned out far better than I expected. It ages well, too, becoming more moist the 2nd day.

Good for you....and...Tastes Good!

A comment left the other day that jokingly suggested that next on my health kick I was going to start eating bran for breakfast reminded me that I've wanted to share this recipe.

These muffins are delish. "Good" carbs as opposed to bleached, enriched white flour. Natural sugars only, no refined sugars. You have to store them in the fridge 'cause there are no preservatives. I think of them as breakfast food only because of the cereal, but they make good snacks, too. They're very filling. About the only "improvement" that I want to make is to add some protein powder.

I use whey protein in a breakfast/lunch/snack smoothie I make often; (1 cup strawberries, 1 banana, 1/4 c organic low-fat vanilla yogurt, 2 scoops protein powder, blend until desired consistency) but I've never baked with the powder and don't know how it would react with the heat of an oven. Plus, here's a chemistry question; does it still count as protein once all the chemical reactions take place?

I don't like using an 'artificial' protein source, but neither do I like the idea of grinding up some chicken for my smoothie. Likewise raw eggs kinda squick me. Whey powder isn't too terrible on the scale of artificial ick, but the ingredients do list artificial flavors. There's an un-flavoured version, but it adds something, an undercurrent of taste or an aftertaste that I don't care for, so I use the vanilla flavour.

Adapted from The 8-Week Cholesterol Cure

Breakfast Muffins
2-1/4 cups oat-bran cereal, pulverized in the food processor until as fine as sand
1/4 cup coarsely chopped almonds
1/4 cup golden raisins or chopped pitted Medjool dates
1 tbsp baking powder
1/4 cup organic honey
1-1/4 cups skim milk
2 egg whites
2tbsp olive oil
2 mashed bananas

Oven 425F

Combine the cereal, nuts, baking powder and raisins/dates. In a separate bowl, whip the egg, milk, honey, and oil together and blend it into the cereal mixture. Line a muffin tin with paper liners, and fill with batter. Bake 15-20 minutes. They are done when a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out moist but not wet. Store in refrigerator.

This recipe has so many possibilities. Add blueberries (in season) to the muffins instead of or in addition to the bananas. Use a chopped apple; play with the combinations of dates or raisins with other fruit. They freeze well, too.

So, yes, bran for breakfast. :-)

Pie

Much like I think about the passage of time in the fall, I only bake pies in the fall. Apple, mostly, because the apple harvest has come in, but sometimes a pecan pie too. I'm not a big fan of cherries, so I don't make cherry pies in the summer, and I'd rather eat peaches whole or made into ice cream than in pies, so apple it is.

DH is a huge fan of apple pie or apple dumplings, which are actually a lot less trouble than a whole pie. But, y'see, I'll eat just one small slice of apple pie to see how it turned out; if I make apple dumplings, I'm going to eat at least 2 of them.

Surprisingly in someone so enamored of working in the kitchen, I've only rarely bothered to make pie crust from scratch. I have a weakness for Jiffy's pie crust mix left over from my childhood. My mother isn't a big fan of baking, so that's what she used. All you do is add water.

Lately, however, that hasn't been good enough for me. Last weekend I made two apple pies, one for a neighbor and one for us. When I tasted it, the crust was dry. Dull, lifeless, and dry. DH rarely complains about any of the baking I do, knowing as he does that I'll offer sweetly to let HIM bake next time. We'd wait for the next ice age before he would bake something, and since he likes his baked goods....well, he just doesn't complain. But when I asked for his honest assessment, he agreed with me that the apples were perfection, the filling was wonderful, but the crust was dry.

I collect cookbooks like other people collect art or knick-knacks. Of course I have a cookbook dedicated solely to pies. It was a gift from a friend, and while I've read it cover to cover, and been fascinated by the types of pies I've never heard of, I've yet to try my hand at any one of the sweet or savory pies that are on its pages. It has a whole section on pie crusts, so when I decided that I was going to make a pie crust from scratch, that was the first place I went for research.

Over the years, I have heard anecdotal evidence that suggests the best pie crusts are made with lard. Which, I've got to say, squicks me out to the nth degree. The book seemed to suggest this too, so I picked up lard at the grocery store, all the while thinking, 'ewwww' and 'I resolve to not eat one single piece of this pie. Bad for you. Bad. See this lard? See your thighs?'

I experimented with the pie crusts by using several different types of flour. Two kinds of whole wheat flour, pastry and regular, and one crust with the last of the all-purpose bleached enriched flour in my pantry. Never again, that stuff, now that I have discovered unbleached and unbromated flour.

The recipe that uses lard calls for vinegar, too. That bothered me a bit; who wants vinegar with their apple pie? But I stuck with it, adding all 4 teaspoons of vinegar that the recipe called for. Mistake. Not a big mistake, but in the finished pie, I could still taste the vinegar. I had hoped that the flavor of it would diminish with baking, because the smell of it was pretty pungent when I was working with the raw crust. It added something interesting to the taste of the crust, interesting as in 'what the heck is that,' not as in 'mmm, wonder what that is.' Next time, lots less vinegar. A teaspoon. Perhaps two. No more.

DH was not thrilled with the whole wheat crust. I've got to admit that I wasn't either. Its texture is tougher than the AP flour, the color of the finished product is lots less satisfying, and somehow, it seems wrong to have a pie crust made with lard (how much worse for you nutritionally can you get than LARD, ffs?) and trying to balance out the bad by using whole-grain flour.

There is no doubt at all that the lard crust was much more flaky, had better flavor, and was far richer than my old standby box pie crust mix. But I don't think I can ever bring myself to buy that stuff ever again. Icky. Really icky. When I was working with it, I tried to imagine that it was shortening, since it has a similar color and texture. I even turned the container of it around so that the side printed in Spanish was all I could see. Funny those little things you learn; Spanish for lard is manteca. Next time it will be butter. And better, too.

It's What's for Dinner

Fall is my favorite time of the year in Oh-hia-ia. We have a lovely few weeks when the days aren't blistering hot but are still warm enough to be without jacket, scarf and hat, the nights are cool and crisp, and we open the doors and windows, turning off the air conditioning and not yet needing the heat.

The harvest begins to come in, and after a summer of abundant strawberries and blueberries, which I miss when they're gone, tomatoes, peppers of every color and heat level, and beans and potatoes and huge bunches of fresh herbs are available at the farmer's market I like to visit on the weekends.

Walking around the farmer's market makes me inspired to create menus of only fresh seasonal things, which is how we should all cook all year round, but that is fairly difficult in this climate. It also makes me miss my sister in New York dreadfully, because she was the person who introduced me to the market and we used to meet there for an early morning breakfast on Sundays and do our shopping together. Going it alone is lots less fun.

Deals abound there; two weeks ago, I took $23, and came home with 4 of my canvas shopping bags full to bursting with celery, cilantro, green beans, cherry hot peppers, ginger, garlic, some late strawberries (from California, I suspect, but the stall owner was reluctant to say that they weren't local) double yolk eggs (they're HUGE), even some local cheese. Last week my mum and I went, and I got more double yolk eggs, an enormous bunch of basil and another of dill, radishes, more green beans, more berries, yellow tomatoes, 10 pounds of baking potatoes for $3, lemons, limes, onion. My fridge is full of possibilities.

My cooking is always low fat and lately I've been trying for lower carb, cutting out pasta almost entirely :( and not making rice at all either. But that does not mean that we don't eat well. Cooking doesn't have to be a miserable chore; I enjoy it very much, especially when I have so many ideas that I end up making entirely too much stuff and have lots of leftovers to play with.

I'm also having far too much fun playing with our digital camera, a small 5 megapixel that a client gave to DH for fixing their computer. So are ya ready for some food porn?

First up as an appetizer is a Caprese salad; tomatoes, fresh mozzarella cheese, salt, pepper, fresh basil and a drizzle of olive oil. I could eat this every day.

Then the green beans. I dump them out on the cutting board, cut the ends off, cut them into manageable chunks, rinse them, and then steam them for a scant few minutes with salt, pepper, slivered almonds and a weee hint of garlic. Baked potatoes as a side with the green beans. Now I know I said I was trying for lower carb and we all know that potatoes are a no-no when it comes to low carb. But, baked, without sour cream and cheese and bacon, they're not so terrible for you. I baked two of them, but we split one, and the second one is in the fridge for another day.Then the main event, tilapia grilled with basil, lemon juice, lemon zest, garlic, salt, pepper and a very small amount of olive oil. Fish sticks to the grill horribly, so I wrap it in foil packets and it steams inside them. Bonus, your house doesn't smell fishy because they cook outside. Here's how you make the packets, which were inspired by Hugh Carpenter's Fast Fish cookbook. The fish lies diagonally on a square of tinfoil that has been rubbed with olive oil to ensure that the fish doesn't end up plastered to the tinfoil. Fold up the bottom point of the square.Fold in the two sides of the square.Flip the packet over to begin to close it up.

Fold down the remaining flap to seal the packet.Four packets of fishy goodness. I make more than two fillets because tilapia fillets can be small, and they always shrink while cooking, so sometimes they're too small. DH always wants more than one, and I eat the second left over filet for lunch the next day.

I didn't remember to take a picture when they came off the grill, so you will have to just trust me that they were beautiful and yummy. We eat fish at least twice a week, once you get over being afraid of cooking it, it is a wonderful addition to your diet. Lean, and full of good things.

I got over the fear of preparing it by taking a class taught by the aforementioned Hugh Carpenter, where he taught how to select fresh fish from the grocery store, how to cook it, how to season it, and what to avoid. His cookbook, Fast Fish, is a great jumping-off point for the beginner. There are two recipes from the book that I use on a regular basis, but mostly now I use it for inspiration and guidance, not necessarily for a particular recipe.

I never buy fish that the fishmonger has listed as "previously frozen" because it isn't as good. If nothing looks good at the store that day, we're not having fish. I make usually salmon and tilapia, but I'll experiment with other things from time to time. I look for whatever is freshest and least expensive; last week my local mega-mart had Mahi-Mahi, a Hawaiian fish that is wonderful stuff, but they wanted $17.99 a pound for it. No thanks.

Tonight we're having a salad made with leftover salmon, which was grilled with dill, lemon, and olive oil, plus Italian greens made from radish leaves. Yum. The freshness of the veggies right now is so wonderful.