A Feline Christmas

A Feline Christmas

The holidays are a time for family, food, festivities, and felines? This year we went to my in-laws for Christmas. It’s always interesting in the mountains of northeastern Pennsylvania—not so much because of the beautiful secluded setting or the dramatic family interludes but because of the felines. There were five of them to be exact. That’s two less than in past years. It’s not as bad as it might sound because two of them are allowed outdoors, but throw two Scottie dogs in the mix and every so often a tussle erupts, disharmonizing well with the cacophony from the cousins. None of the cats are allowed downstairs, so they do end up all over the place. Typically, they will mill around the kitchen begging for their meat or plant themselves on the couch so nobody can sit and watch TV without paying the petting toll.

My in-laws’ house is always a bit free form, allowing for individual expression, especially when it comes to mealtime. A formal sit-down meal is a rare occasion, so when it does happen even the four-footed family members take notice. This year, after we put in the extra leaves, smoothed out the tablecloth, and laid out the typical spread—creamy sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, creamed corn, cranberry bread, and Honey Baked ham—little Muggers plopped himself down at the head of the table and was ready for the feast. Our Feliz Navidad turned into Felis domesticus.

Overall, it was a good holiday. There were some miscues and misunderstandings, but playing games with the kids and feeling the love from the cats helped to ease the stress. Next year we’ll have to get Muggers a booster seat.

Happy New Year!

Geoff

YOU CAN TAKE YOUR HOLIDAY TREATS AND…

YOU CAN TAKE YOUR HOLIDAY TREATS AND…

The worst part of the holiday season is the treats. I say this not because I’m watching calories or really concerned about putting on a few—that’s half of the fun of the holiday season, right? I say it because, thanks to my food allergies, I can’t enjoy them.

They are a constant tease, especially around the office. Over the past week or so, every time I walk into the kitchen at Running Press my senses are overwhelmed by caramel popcorn, chocolates, nuts, and cookies of every size, shape, and flavor. This morning there was even a cheesecake sent to the office from one of our vendors. They all make my mouth water and I contemplate, well, what if I eat just a little bit? Bad idea. Consequences are much worse than a couple minutes of pure bliss while indulging on some sugary, gooey, wonderfulness.

So what’s a girl with a sweet tooth to do? Vegan gluten-free baking attempt, round number two.

This time I picked a much easier recipe from Terry Walter’s cookbook, Clean Food. And I’m so glad I tried baking from her cookbook again after my Brownie Baking Fiasco. These Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies turned out perfect, and only took 30 minutes to make. I might just be able to get the knack of this vegan baking thing after all.

Oh, and guess what? I fully intend to be selfish and eat these cookies all by myself. Bah humbug.

- Caroline

Here’s the recipe, should you wish to make your own:

Oatmeal Chocolate Chip (or Raisin) Cookies

2 cups rolled oats

1 cup unbleached white flour or brown rice flour (I used teff flour)

¾ cup shredded unsweetened coconut (I couldn’t find this and used sweetened instead)

1 tablespoon ground cinnamon

¼ teaspoon sea salt

¾ cup maple syrup

½ cup canola oil

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 cup chopped toasted walnuts (skipped these, not really a walnut fan)

½ cup semisweet dark chocolate chips (or raisins)

Preheat oven to 350ºF.

In a large bowl, combine oats, flour, coconut, cinnamon, and salt. In separate bowl, whisk together syrup, oil, and vanilla. Pour wet ingredients into dry and stir until evenly combined. Fold in walnuts and chocolate chips or raisins. Press dough into equal-size balls, place onto parchment-lined cookie sheet and bake 15 minutes or until lightly browned. Remove from oven—and do your best not to eat them all in one sitting!

Makes 2 dozen.

Recipe courtesy of Clean Food © 2009 by Terry Walters, Sterling Epicure.

Barking Up the Right Tree

It’s a great time of year! Colorful lights on every street, Perry Como in every store, a giving spirit around every corner, it’s the season for frenzied fun and tasty treats. Break out the star-shaped cookies cutters and pour a mug of hot spiced cider. Of all the rich holiday foods my favorite involves chocolate, and lots of it. Two pounds of chocolate to be exact.

Chocolate is amazing. Derived from the beans of the cocao tree, it was originally thought to be the food of the gods and was consumed as a bitter drink called xocolatl by the Aztecs. Legend has it that Emperor Montezuma drank 50 cups a day for stamina and virility, and a good buzz. Good-quality chocolate is so versatile. Pure, dark chocolate adds a subtle richness to so many dishes: muffins, cookies, cakes, oatmeal, Show Stopping Pasta (from Chocolatique), or even pork chops (for real). You can drink it straight (like Monty), or with some sugar and cream (the way I prefer my hot chocolate), or mold it into shapes (check out these chocolate chicks). It can prevent tooth decay. Tim Driscoll, DDS, says that “healthy chocolate has been shown to decrease cavities and gum disease.” He also had one patient who reduced his cholesterol level by 21 points in eight weeks. Oh, the wonders of chocolate. Plus it makes you happy by boosting serotonin levels. According to WebMd, researchers say eating an average-sized dark chocolate candy bar a day can reduce stress and fight depression. Is there anything dark chocolate can’t do?

It certainly does a lot for me. And this holiday season it is melting beautifully in a double boiler over low heat. One pound of rich dark chocolate spread smoothly on a parchment paper–lined sheet pan and cooled until hard. That’s enough in and of itself. But wait, there’s more. Another pound of creamy white chocolate mixed with crushed peppermint candies quickly spread over the chilled sheet of dark chocolate makes an enormous black and white chocolate sandwich with a cool minty bite. Chill until hard. With stratified layers this treat has a barklike appearance. Break it into chunks and eat it a few pieces at a time, and you will definitely be barking up the right tree.

PEPPERMINT BARK
1 pound white chocolate
1 pound bittersweet chocolate
1 cup crushed candy canes
1/4 teaspoon peppermint extract

Combine the white and bittersweet chocolate in a double
boiler and melt over medium heat. Combine the candy cane
chunks with the chocolate and add the peppermint extract.
Pour the mixture onto a cookie sheet lined with waxed paper
and let cool in the refrigerator for 30 minutes or until firm.
Remove from the cookie sheet and break into pieces.

Merry Christmas!
Geoff

Hey Mr. Sifton!

 The wreckage: "Still Life with Burned Sugar." 2011

HEY MR. SIFTON!

Dear Sam Sifton:

You owe me a new Dutch oven. Le Creuset, 2 3/4 quarts, cherry red or, if you can find it, that beautiful eggshell color. You and your culinary dabbling from the New York Times Magazine, just beyond the grasp of mere mortals, so captivate my spouse that he follows you across the coals, through pain and befuddlement. (Thank goodness we now have only your archives for comfort.) Like so:

“Heat a large Dutch oven or a heavy-bottomed pot over high heat. Add brown sugar to pot and melt, stirring with a wooden spoon, until it darkens and starts to smoke— about six minutes. When sugar is nearly black, add 2 tablespoons boiling water. (It will splatter.)”

Over 6 minutes, as the Cook resolutely stirred, choking on the acrid smoke, I saw my most beautiful Dutch oven dying a death that should be reserved for things like that aluminum saucepan from college in which I started some red beans and rice—then went out for about 5 hours, leaving it to carbonize.

This wasn’t the first time the Pied Piper charmed us down roads marked with dry cleaning bills and salty tears: there was General Tso’s Scallops (ingredient schlep alert! black vinegar); the Bulgogi Slider (the “enemy of takeout” with shaved brisket, spicy mayo, scallion salsa, and cucumber kimchi, all made separately  by “slavishly” following the instructions, which to be fair, resulted in one of the best sandwiches ever eaten—at 10 pm); and now the Jamaican Oxtail Stew, which bathed innocent oxtails in the most foul-smelling burnt sugar for hours, leaving us to hope and pray for dinner before midnight.

And here’s where I have to admit: it was delicious. Meaty, rich, and warm-your-belly spicy, served over a buttery import starch (polenta), it was a revelation. While I am certainly a competent cook (okay, okay, more than competent), sometimes I need a little shove in the direction of grease fires and bone marrow. And Santa Sifton needs a little push towards the aisle of gleaming cast iron.

Jamaican Oxtail Stew, the finished product

Merry merry,

Kristen

An Ode to Jello Salad

An Ode to Jello Salad

Lately, I’ve been working with two wonderful authors on a cookbook featuring the recipes from the 1960’s (due out in the Spring!).    Even though I wasn’t around for the 60’s, I’ve been getting a real nostalgia trip, because some of the recipes could be straight from my grandmother’s collection:  pot roast flavored with Lipton’s Onion Soup Mix, or casseroles with crushed potato chips on top, and even...something I think has become a lost art...the jello salad.     

Whatever happened to jello salad? Has it gone the way of Spam or the Pimiento Cheese Ball—a food that is charming only for its kitsch factor? I certainly hope not. For those of you who are wondering even what I’m talking about:  a jello salad is defined as any gelatin dish with fruits (or sometimes, vegetables) floating in it.  Important point: it’s considered  a salad, not  a dessert.   I know my grandmother wouldn’t have dreamed of setting a holiday table without a place for the jello salad.  It’d be (appropriately) housed on its own salad plate, maraschino cherry optional.  There was a special one she’d make just for me when I visited (lime jello with canned Bartlett pears); one just for Thanksgiving (orange jello with pineapple chunks) and of course, an extra special one for Christmas Day.  No matter which recipe she used, it was always a refreshing complement to the main meal.   

So I say, let’s bring back the jello salad!  I think my grandmother’s Christmas recipe just might make you a convert.  I give it to you straight from the old family recipe book.  But feel free to experiment:  if you can’t find store-bought cranberry-orange relish, try canned pineapple chunks.  And don’t worry if you don’t have a jello mold (who does?).  Just use a cake pan and cut into individual squares. Don’t forget the maraschino!

Christmas Jello Salad

Serves 8-10

1 (3 oz) package raspberry flavored jello

1 (3 oz) package lemon flavored jello

2 cups boiling water

1 (10 oz) package frozen raspberries

1 (4 oz) jar of cranberry-orange relish

1 cup of lemon-lime carbonated beverage (like Sprite or 7UP)

Dissolve the raspberry and lemon jello in 2 cups of boiling water. Stir in frozen raspberries, breaking up the larger pieces with a fork.  Add cranberry-orange relish. Chill until cold but not set. Carefully pour in lemon-lime carbonated beverage. Turn into a 6 oz (6 ½ cup) ring mold.  Chill until firm.

Note:  the Sprite/7Up gives it a bit of a kick! 

Here’s to the Jello Salad renaissance!

Jennifer

Image via here

WHEN A PUBLICIST LOVES AN AUTHOR, AND HIS FOOD

Chef Bradley Ogden's Winter Vegetable Salad (recipe below).

WHEN A PUBLICIST LOVES AN AUTHOR, AND HIS FOOD

Being a book publicist can be a tough gig, but what makes my job rewarding is when I’m paired up with a delightful, motivated author whose book is timely and appealing to TV producers and editors at magazines, newspapers, and websites. Chef Bradley Ogden is one such author. Gracious and unpretentious, he has been a joy to work with. And he has a sense of humor.

Here’s a recent phone conversation:

Me: “This is Caroline.” (This is how I always answer the phone. I rarely say “hello.”)

Bradley: “Hi, it’s Bradley.”

Me: “Oh, hi. Umm, Bradley who?”

Bradley: “You have another boyfriend named Bradley?”

Me: (embarrassed) “Oh, sorry, no…I didn’t realize it was you!”

Incase you’re wondering, my boyfriend’s name is Kenny.

Anyhow, his book, Holiday Dinners with Bradley Ogden, is, as you can imagine, perfectly seasonal and the media just can’t get enough of it. They all want a piece of Bradley: a vast improvement over the working hours spent chasing down and digging up leads and spinning, spinning, spinning…

So with this in mind, I’d like to share one of my favorite recipes from his book. While the book isn’t vegan, this recipe is, and just reading over the ingredients makes my mouth water. Try it out. You’ll thank me.

-Caroline
@carolinebrown

WINTER VEGETABLE SALAD

Colorful and sweet root vegetables, earthy mushrooms, and fragrant herbs will make everyone want to eat their vegetables.

MAKES 4 SERVINGS

8 pearl onions, peeled

1⁄4 cup plus 1 tablespoon olive oil, divided

8 baby carrots

4 baby parsnips, peeled

12 baby asparagus spears

4 baby red beets

8 baby golden beets

10 ounces shiitake, chanterelle, morel, or cremini mushrooms, stems discarded, wiped clean, and sliced

2 garlic cloves, finely chopped (about 1 teaspoon)

1 small yellow onion, chopped (about 1⁄2 cup)

2 cups vegetable stock (page 193)

1 tablespoon sherry vinegar

1⁄4 cup chopped flat-leaf parsley

2 tablespoons chopped fresh tarragon

1⁄2 cup baby arugala, for garnish

Kosher salt

Freshly ground black pepper

Adjust an oven rack to the middle position and heat the oven to 400°F. Fill a large bowl with ice water. In a small roasting pan or baking dish, toss the onions with 1 tablespoon of the olive oil and add 4 tablespoons of water. Cover with aluminum foil and bake for 10minutes; set aside.

Bring 3 cups of water to a boil in a medium saucepan over high heat. Add 1 teaspoon of salt and the carrots, return to a boil, and cook until the carrots are bright orange and crisp-tender, 1 to 2minutes. Remove the carrots with a slotted spoon and immediately transfer them to the ice bath. When the carrots have cooled to room temperature, remove with a slotted spoon and drain on a paper towel–lined plate.

Repeat with this process with the parsnips, asparagus, and beets. Use a paper towel to rub off the skin from the beets; then cut into quarters and set aside.

Heat the remaining oil in a large skillet until thin wisps of smoke appear; add the mushrooms, cook for 1 minute; add the garlic and onion; cook for 1 minute longer. Add the stock and sherry vinegar; simmer until the mixture has thickened and lightly coats the back of a spoon. Transfer the mixture to a large bowl and add the pearl onions, cooked vegetables, parsley, tarragon, and arugala; toss to combine. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Serve.

Recipe courtesy of Holiday Dinners with Bradley Ogden © 2011 by Bradley Ogden, Running Press, a member of the Perseus Book Group.

Photo © 2011 by Jeremy Ball

If You Give a Girl a Muffin Tin…

If You Give a Girl a Muffin Tin…

If you give a girl a muffin tin, she will want to make cupcakes.

Several years ago my wife got a 12-cup muffin tin and started making cupcakes for our nieces and sons birthdays. The problem was that many recipes she had yielded 24 cupcakes. So she had to buy another muffin tin. As the kids have gotten older, there are more and more parties: school parties for Halloween and Christmas, violin studio parties, kids’ club parties, neighborhood parties. So she had to get more tins to make more cupcakes. This time she got mini muffin tins because they make 24 cupcakes. Maybe it’s just that time of year, but recently it seems like she is making cupcakes all the time. But since they are all homemade – no corn syrup, butylated hydroxyanisole (try saying that three times fast), or red #40 – I’m happy to sample each batch. And because they are small cakes, I’m comfortable having more than one. (The mini cupcakes are even better. You can pop them in your mouth by the handful.) If they served carrot cupcakes in the school lunch program, they could call it a vegetable serving. Put some bacon on the cream cheese frosting and you have your protein, vegetable, and carbohydrates. A meal in a muffin cup. But I digress. An overload of sugar will do that to you, even if it is laced with bacon.

If you let my wife make enough cupcakes, she will want a stand mixer to make them. So last year we got a stand mixer. I must say, it’s one of the best kitchen appliances we own. Great for pizza dough too. Of all the cupcakes that have graced our tins, my favorites are the black bottom cupcakes and the peppermint cupcakes shown here. I don’t know of many flavor combinations better than chocolate and mint. The cool minty bite plays well against the deep chocolaty richness. It just works for me. So when I get a hankering, I’ll be sure to always give my girl a muffin tin.

Enjoy!

Geoff

Chocolate Cupcakes with Peppermint Frosting

Makes 24 cupcakes

Cake

3/4 cup butter, softened

3 eggs, at room temperature

2 cups all-purpose flour

3/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

3/4 teaspoons baking powder

1 teaspoon salt

2 cups sugar

2 teaspoons vanilla

1-1/2 cups milk

Icing

4 cups confectioners’ sugar

1 stick unsalted butter, softened

4 to 6 tablespoons milk

2 teaspoons peppermint extract

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 cup crushed peppermint candies

For the cake, line 24 muffin cups with decorative cupcake liners and set aside. Sift the flour, cocoa, baking soda, baking powder, and salt in a bowl and set aside. In a separate bowl, beat the butter and eggs with a hand-held mixer (or your nifty stand mixer) on high speed for about 20 seconds. Add the sugar 1/4 cup at a time, beating on medium speed after each addition for about 3 minutes, or until well combined. Beat for another couple of minutes after the last addition. Then beat in the vanilla. Preheat the oven to 350°F. Alternately add the flour mixture and milk in thirds to the butter mixture, beating on low after each addition, continuing beating until well combined. Pour the batter into the prepared muffin cups until about half full. Bake for 18 to 20 minutes or until an inserted toothpick comes out clean. Allow to cool completely before icing. Meanwhile, make the icing.

For the icing, combine the sugar and butter in a bowl and beat (this is where the stand mixer comes in handy) on medium speed until smooth. Add the milk, peppermint extract, and salt and beat again until smooth. Swirl the icing on top of the cupcakes and sprinkle the peppermint candy pieces on top.

THUMBPRINT COOKIES

THUMBPRINT COOKIES

by Cathy Lee Gruhn

From sending out cards to the mad dash to buy the perfect gift; the holidays bring something exciting and personal to each of us.  I was born and raised in New York City, and year after year the excitement for me is seeing the stores up and down Fifth Avenue presenting their windows ushering in the holiday season.  From the red-bowed encrusted Cartier to the Victorian-esque look surrounding Tiffany’s; to the couture delights of Bergdorf Goodman and Saks; and of course the time-honored themed windows of Lord & Taylor; the anchor of it all—the Rockefeller Christmas Tree with its blue and green twinkling lights. 

December equates not only the holidays for me, it also means a plethora of holiday treats and the steady whir of my mixer with the aroma of butter, sugar and vanilla rising through my kitchen.  This is the time I go full throttle baking!  The giddiness takes over as I scour through magazines reviewing the variety of cookie recipes trying to come to a decision on what I will make on my “great cookie baking day.”   

While I’m no Martha Stewart, I can pride myself in some pretty good sweet treats and no matter which cookies I make, there will be one specific cookie that is always included, because this cookie, the buttery thumbprint cookie with its jewel toned fruit jelly filling always brings a smile and brings back wonderful memories of holidays past.  This simple, classic cookie is the one cookie I would make with my mother as a little girl year after year. 

Classically known as “The Butter Ball,” today most of us know it as a “Thumbprint Cookie.” My mother would prepare the classic butter cookie, and then the all-important job of the thumbprint was up to me, as my thumb was always the ideal-size where the preserves would find their place of honor.  This year my gift boxes will likely include my choir of gingerbread boys and girls making their return, as will a great white chocolate-lemon biscotti and some new additions may include a stained glass sugar cookie, a peppermint brownie with white chocolate and even maybe a savory cheese and rosemary palmier…  However, no matter how many cookies I search out or try, my mother’s Butter Ball cookie, a.k.a. The Thumbprint will have its place of honor.  

What’s your favorite holiday cookie recipe or memory?

BUTTER BALLS

Preheat oven to 325º

1/2 lb. butter

2/3 cup sugar

2 egg yolks

2 cups flour

1/4 tsp. salt

1 Tbs. vanilla

Tart jelly, preferably currant  

1. Cream 1/2 lb. butter with 2/3 cup sugar until smooth. Beat in 2 egg yolks, one at a time, until smooth.
2. Sift 2 cups flour. Measure and re-sift twice with 1/4 teaspoon salt.  Gradually add to the butter mixture.  Beat again when all the flour has been added, and finally beat in 1 tablespoon vanilla.
3. Grease and flour a cookie sheet.  Scoop out 1/2 teaspoon dough at a time.  Roll between your palms into tiny "butter balls" about the size of a marble.  Give them room to spread by placing on the cookie sheet about 1 inch apart and 1 inch away from the edges.  With tip of a finger, form a depression on top of each "ball." Fill each depression with a small amount of tart jelly and bake in 325º oven.  Watch them carefully and bake them only until sandy-colored.  They are done when slightly browned underneath.  Approximately 12 to 13 minutes is the required time.  This recipe makes about 75 "butter balls."

Note:  These cookies resemble a bowl of cherries in that it is almost impossible for the members of your family to leave them alone.  Use the tip of a knife or the tip of a small spoon to insert the jelly (preferably currant) into the depressions of the cookies.

Recipe courtesy The Perfect Hostess Cook Book © 1950 by Mildred O. Knopf.

Image courtesy of DashRecipes.com.

A Mere Trifle

A MERE TRIFLE

My in-laws live in England, and over the years I’ve come to truly appreciate British food.  Certainly, British fare isn’t as revered as the cuisine of its closest European neighbor, but it nevertheless specializes in comfort. Shepherd’s Pie, scones and clotted cream, beans on toast: these are all things to cozy up with on a cold, damp day. As the bleak midwinter season lies ahead of us, we should all become Anglophiles in the kitchen.

One of my favorite foods to come from “across the pond” is English Trifle.  It’s kind of like a dessert casserole, in that it’s a mess of things in one bowl.  But also not like a casserole, because it keeps its distinct layers of cake, fruit, custard, and whipped cream—and makes a pretty presentation. It’s often served on special occasions—and I usually make it once a year for Christmas Day.   I had wondered why this tradition never caught on in America, and I think I got my answer when I asked for the secret family recipe.  The ingredients list called for all sorts of funny-sounding things: A sponge swiss roll, an egg cup of sherry (how many American s own egg cups?), 1 Jelly, 1 tin Raspberries, Custard, and Cadburys flake.

Now, I always thought of myself as fairly fluent in Brit-speak, but this required serious translation.   Luckily I’ve done the work for you—below are my Americaniz(s)ed directions for making  trifle:

1.   Get yourself a plain sponge cake—meaning something that will soak up the liquor you’re going to be dousing it with.  Don’t try to be a hero and make your own—you’ll just tire yourself out for the rest of the recipe. A Sara Lee poundcake works just fine.   Cut it into 3-4 inch slices and lay them down in a big glass bowl: on the bottom and up the sides.

2.   Spread a layer of raspberry or strawberry jam on top of the cake slices.

3.   Next, your fruit layer.  Use whatever you want: fresh or frozen.  I usually use frozen raspberries (defrosted and drained), but strawberries can work—as can fresh kiwi or bananas.

4.   Add  1 (okay, 2) shots  of sherry or another one of your favorite liquors (Grand Marnier, perhaps?). Put in fridge overnight. 

5.   The following morning, it’s time for your custard/pudding layer.  For a true English trifle, you need to use Bird’s Custard, which can be found in places like Wegman’s  or any other grocery with a wide international aisle.  But don’t sweat it if you can’t find—you can use regular vanilla pudding, if you must. Alas, our American puddings tend to be a bit cloyingly sweet for trifle, but I wouldn’t want a lack of Bird’s custard to stop you from making it. Whatever you use, just be sure that pudding/custard is completely cooled before you add to the trifle.

6.   Add your layer of whipped cream.  Here I must strongly encourage you to make your own. (I beg of you, no “whipped topping” or anything from a spray can).  Now that electric mixers have been invented, it’s dead- easy:  just put heavy whipping cream and a dash of sugar and vanilla in a bowl, and set your mixer on high speed for 5 minutes. 

7.   Put back in fridge for at least 2 hours before serving.  Grate some chocolate over the top for the final presentation.  

Happy Trifling!

Jennifer

Image via here.

A VEGAN GLUTEN-FREE BROWNIE BAKING FIASCO

A VEGAN GLUTEN-FREE BROWNIE BAKING FIASCO

For my first vegan-gluten-free baking adventure, I decided to take on brownies. And not just any brownies, but brownies that claimed to not only be gooey and delicious but also packed with nutrients. This proved to be a big mistake.

I regret this first attempt for a couple reasons. Most notably, because the recipe I chose was one for a more advanced baker, and I was in over my head. But also because these were the most expensive gosh-darn brownies I’ve ever made—the obscure flour I had to used cost me $15 alone. I also had to visit three different grocery stores to find everything I needed, the last being Wegmans about a 30-minute drive from my home (and actually where I should have just bought everything to begin with to save the hassle).

I also altered the recipe, because I realized that I didn’t have the right size baking pan (said to use 8 x 8 inch pan; I only had an 8 x 13), so I might have screwed everything up right then and there. I also don’t own a full-sized food processor, which the recipe said to use to combine all of the moist ingredients (dates, banana, maple syrup, vanilla extract, and applesauce), so I just used my mini food processor to do the dates and banana then mixed everything else together by hand, before adding the dry ingredients (teff flour, almond meal, cocoa powder, baking powder, baking soda, and salt).

So anyhow, the brownies ended up tasting like chocolaty-banana-ish mush. Not satisfying whatsoever. I had originally intended to bring them into the office and have my colleagues give feedback, but was too embarrassed. They are sitting in my kitchen feeling neglected, destined to go out with the trash tonight.

To be fair, I must stress that I can’t really blame the recipe I used for my disappointing brownies. I even hesitate from telling you what cookbook I used because I’ve eaten many things from it and can attest that when made by someone who actually knows what they are doing, the food is quite good.

But I also believe in transparency and don’t want to keep secrets from my dear readers, so apologies Terry Walters, I promise to make something really good from one of your gorgeous and well-done cookbooks, Clean Start or Clean Food, in the future.

(Pssst, Mom…Some good Christmas gift ideas for me would include some baking pans and a food processor. Just sayin’…)

Best,

Caroline

@carolinebrown

Eat Your Pizza ... I Mean Vegetables

Pizza is one of my favorite foods. When I was a boy we would always make homemade pizzas on Sunday nights. It was the one day of the week that we were allowed to eat while watching TV and were allowed to drink Coke. My mom would make the crust from a Chef Boyardee box and my brother and I would add the toppings. We usually had ground beef and an assortment of veggies – mushrooms, bell peppers, olives, artichoke hearts, sun-dried tomatoes – and plenty of shredded mozzarella cheese with some Parmesan from a green can sprinkled on top. It was a fun time to be creative with the pies and a good activity to do together.

Today, I still love a good pizza. However, my tastes have changed slightly. Now, I prefer a homemade crust from Peter Reinhart. Yes, the kind that takes four hours or overnight to make. And I like to make my own sauce. And I only use whole-milk Mozzarella and freshly grated Parmesan. Lately, I’ve been making more simple pies of just pepperoni and bell pepper.

I was feeling that I should add more vegetables until I read an article recently in The New York Times that said that Congress has blocked the Agriculture Department from adding more fruits and green vegetable to the school lunch program. According to Congress one-quarter cup of tomato paste on a slice of pizza can still count as a vegetable serving. It might be bad news in the fight against childhood obesity, but it means that my meat pizzas can still be counted as vegetables. I’m not sure if Chef Boyardee had anything to do with this or not, but now when my wife wants to make a salad to go with the pizza, I’ll just tell her that I’ll go heavy on the tomato paste instead.

Geoff

Dark Winter Nights - One Pot Meal

Winter One Pot Meal

The days are getting shorter, darker earlier, and so much colder. It’s days like these when I turn to the clay pot for comfort. If you’re not familiar with one, a clay pot helps food to retain the moisture and intensify flavors and whether it’s chicken, beef, pork, a clay pot never fails.  Clay pot cooking is one of the easiest methods to turning out an amazing one pot meal and I’ve quite honestly never been disappointed. 

Living in South Philadelphia I’m fortunate to be close to the Italian Market. Today, the ubiquitous vegetable stands that line the streets can’t really hold a candle to the produce found at Iovine Bothers in the Reading Terminal some 10 blocks to the north but in a pinch I can usually find passable vegetables to suit the day’s need. The real reasons I keep coming back to the 9^th Street -- cheese from DiBruno Brothers (unsurpassed quality and selection), pasta from Superior (homemade, like my grandfather used to make), and Italian imports that I can't find anywhere else from Claudio's, to say nothing of the old world sausage from Fiorella Brothers, and the knowledgeable butchers at Canulli Brothers. Canulli’s is the destination today, on a quest for the perfect rolled roast of beef (preferably sirloin).   

Here in the market I find all the ingredients I need for my roast, including a five pound beauty from the butcher, some nice fingerling potatos, pearl onions, garlic, parsnips, carrots, and mushrooms. I head back home on my bike to prepare dinner.

Prep is so easy, start by soaking the clay pot in cold water, mince 10  garlic cloves, peel 15 pearl onions (or two medium ones cut in half), 5 large carrots, 4 medium parsnips, and 15 small mushrooms (unpeeled).  After 30 minutes of soaking, the clay pot is ready for high heat cooking (never place a clay pot in a hot oven). With the meat in placed in the center of the pot, the minced garlic, salt and pepper and sprinkle with 3 tablespoons of parsley (enough to cover the roast), add the onions and mushrooms, a few sprigs of rosemary as well as two bay leaves around the perimeter of the pot, lay the carrots and parsnips to rest over the beef (during cooking they will absorb the favors from the rising steam). I will be honest, the best part about this recipe is that everything goes into the pot at once.

I placed an external digital read thermometer probe through the center of the roast, covered with the lid and set it in the cold oven , setting the temperature to 480f. Using  the thermometer I was assured that the meat would be done to perfection (I prefer rare, and 122f was my target knowing that the meat temp would continue to rise another 5 – 10 degrees while it rested out of the oven).

When the beef's internal temp hit the mark it was time for the contents to make their way out of the pot; vegetables in a covered dish, and the beef onto the carving board to rest for 20 minutes while I moved on to the gravy. The natural juices left in the clay pot went into a saucepan with a half cup of red wine, and some flour (I needed a quick thickening agent and flour did the trick). Carefully stirring the gravy over low heat yielded an amazing flavorful and velvety smooth, satisfyingly rich gravy. The roast carved beautifully, perfectly rare and tender, paired nicely with the vegetables, it was a wonderful all in one meal for a cold winter night.

Zesty Lemony Soup and More

Zesty Lemony Soup and More

This weekend was a busy one of errands and laundry, but I found time for a couple of good food excursions. One, I will give you the secret to good chicken soup. (Or vegetable soup—works fine for either.) I can usually take or leave basic chicken soup, but this zesty trick has made a lover out of me. First make your soup, any way you like. When you’re about 15 minutes from eating, add a big handful of tiny pasta—I used acini di pepe—plus a peeled, cored, and finely diced apple and the finely chopped zest from one lemon. (Just use a thin knife to peel off long pieces, avoiding the white pith as you can, then chop.) Simmer gently until the apple is soft and the pasta is just done. Whisk together the juice of a lemon and 1 egg (or 2, if making more than 4 servings), then temper it with a ladle of hot broth, whisking quickly so it doesn’t scramble. Pour the whole lot into the pot, stirring quickly. Your goal is not egg drop soup; it should look as though you just added a cup of luscious, naughty cream to your otherwise healthy soup. (This technique is from a Greek soup called avgolemono.) Taste and add more lemon if you like.

Now! You’ve saved some calories for dessert, yes? I’ll tell you about part one of my project this week:  to make a passable petit four—but vegan, and without soy or tree nuts—for a friend’s High Tea (her daughter has allergies). I started with a highly recommended petit four tutorial from VeganYumYum (the génoise recipe was attributed to Bryanna Clark Grogan). I used soy-free Earth Balance and rice milk. This was probably THE best white cake I’ve ever made: light as air, sweet but not too, and had some nice elasticity. I laboriously sliced through sections, slapped on some apple jelly I had in the freezer, and tightly wrapped each mini layer cake. Step 2? Visit a cupcake-making friend in D.C. on Friday, and foist the decorating on her.  I’ll share the outcome next time.

-Kristen

Image via here.

A Minimalist Thanksgiving

A Minimalist Thanksgiving

It’s been more than a week since Thanksgiving, but I’ve been doing some thinking about how the holiday seems to bring out the “foodie” in all of us.  Even those who are normally apathetic about food suddenly dig out their secret family recipes, or talk with great anticipation about the mounds of mashed potatoes or marshmallowy yams that will be eaten on that special day.  For me, the focal point for my Thanksgiving plate is the stuffing (my special twist: add sausage and dried cherries!) and I always wonder why I limit this near-perfect carb choice to just once a year. But ever notice that most of the chatter surrounding the holiday is on the sheer volume of food? How many times did you hear the term “food coma” last week?  It’s not usually about appreciating the tastes—perhaps because the Thanksgiving meal ends up in one delightful mélange on our plate?  At the heart of it, I suspect that the day is more about comfort, nostalgia, and tradition than it is about the actual food. 

This year was a little unusual for me.  For the first time in almost a decade, I didn’t cook Thanksgiving but instead was invited to my good friend’s house.  Amy would call herself a mere foodie, but I say she’s a true gourmet.  What a feast she prepared: 4 courses, 2 turkeys (one brined, one barbecued), 2 different stuffings (one with an unexpected dash of Cointreau), 3 pies (all with homemade crust), and hand-whipped cream with bourbon vanilla (no Cool Whip allowed!). It was a feast rich not only in quantity but in quality.  But what was most memorable was Amy’s first course (Exhibit A, above)—because at first it seemed to be the antithesis of all we associate with the holiday.  It was beautiful in its minimalism.  She served a tiny portion of carrot-ginger soup in a “bowl” fashioned from a carved-out Lady apple (slightly larger than a crabapple, and sweeter).  Alongside she had a bite-sized lemon-thyme biscuit, with just a centimeter of blue cheese and a dab of quince paste.  It made me stop and really focus on every component; and appreciate all the subtle tastes that were converging on one dainty dish.  No mindless gorging to be done here—it was all about pausing, noticing, and being truly thankful for the little things.  And that’s the true meaning of Thanksgiving, isn’t it? 

I’ll be here most Fridays, waxing philosophical (and in some cases, practical) on my food adventures. Hope to see you!

Jennifer

THE CONFUSED VEGAN

Pictured here: Vegan Holiday Kitchen (Sterling Epicure), Vegan Diner (Running Press),
Simple Vegan! (Hearst Books), and a turkey.

THE CONFUSED VEGAN

I’ve never really liked cooking. I can get by okay in the kitchen, but I can’t honestly say that I enjoy it. On the other hand, I love eating. In fact, before I’ve finished my breakfast, I’m usually thinking about what I’d like to have for dinner.

The challenge is, I can’t eat all that much. I’m basically a vegan, but I eat meat, which I realize makes no sense at all. You could call me a confused vegan. I eat vegan-ish because I’m allergic to eggs and dairy. Oh, and I’m also very sensitive to wheat, among a laundry list of other food allergies and sensitivities, but I’ll spare you. I’ll hold on to that until writers block sets in for a future blog post. It should fill a full 300 words.

Anyhow, cooking really good food without wheat, egg, or dairy (that includes butter, too) is highly difficult. It also proves to be a real pain when you’re out to eat. Yes, I am that annoying friend at the dinner table who drives the waiter nuts with all these special requests for my entrée order. And dessert? Forget it. Unless there is a good sorbet or fresh fruit on the menu, I’ll drown my envy in an extra glass of wine while my dining companions devour something delicious.

So what I’d like my blog to be about is my adventures in attempting to cook really good food (gulp) and seek out restaurants that cater to my food limitations. I’m also going to try my hand at vegan baking, because I desperately miss cookies and cupcakes. This should be a fun, entertaining ride.

(Craig: I can expense my meals as market research for this blog, right?)

See you next Thursday. Same time same place.

Best,
Caroline
@carolinebrown