Saturday, November 26, 2011

Golden Raisin Railway Cake


One of the things I've had on my list to make is Irish Soda Bread. About a week before Thanksgiving (which turned out well, by the way, and left me wondering why I had stressed at all), I made one of the recipes in my binder for Irish Soda Bread. And it was good and everything was grand and I figured I'd just mark that one off the list and move on.

But then I stumbled across a website that made me think differently. I'd always thought Irish Soda Bread included raisins and possibly caraway seeds. But according to the Society for the Preservation of Irish Soda Bread (say that three times fast), it's not the case. Real, honest-to-goodness soda bread is very simple, containing flour, soda, salt and buttermilk. That's it.

I was surprised, but yes, 'tis true.

If the recipe includes raisins, baking powder, sugar, or eggs, it's not traditional. Made that way it can be called Spotted Dog or Railway Cake, according to the SPISB. I chose to call this Railway Cake because it sounds nicer and I'm not sure I want to eat something called Spotted Dog. But that's just me.

The recipe reminded me of a cross between a scone and a cake. It's crumbly and soft and there's something about it that makes me want to slather butter and strawberry preserves on it and have it for breakfast, which is what I did. What took it from a soda bread to a sweet bread was the golden raisins I used. They were fantastic in this and I'm not much of a raisin fan. This cake is easy to slice out in wedges and serve with jam and coffee.


Golden Raisin Railway Cake
Adapted from here

1 and 1/4 cup whole wheat flour
1/2 cup all purpose flour (unbleached)
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon sea salt
1/2 cup golden raisins
2 Tablespoons melted butter
3/4 cup buttermilk

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Lightly grease a 9-inch round cake pan with unsalted butter. Set aside

In a mixing bowl, combine flours, baking powder, soda, and salt. Stir together and add in golden raisins. Toss together.

Melt butter and add room temperature or slightly warmed buttermilk to it. Stir together and add to dry ingredients. Stir until a sticky dough forms.

Turn dough out into cake pan. With the back of a spoon (lightly floured if necessary) spread the dough out evenly in the pan.

Bake for 20 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool bread in the pan on a wire rack for 5 minutes. Slice into wedges and serve.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Soup Mania: 175 Recipes for a Warm and Healthy Thanksgiving


I had grandiose plans for this post.

I wanted to offer something holidayish and inspiring and lovely. But I've been gripped by what can only be described as a crisis as of late. It's a benign crisis and one that's completely self-inflicted, but whether real or imagined a crisis is, well, distressing. My parents always taught me that if something's worth doing, it's worth doing right. And so in the spirit of that sage advice, I've always felt that if I'm going to be in a funk, I'd better really go for it. Pull out all the stops and commit to it. Worry myself to death. Think about all the things that could go wrong. Have trouble falling asleep at night. You know, really live it.

I suppose I could name this crisis: Pre-Holiday Stress Disorder. It's the sort of thing that hits this time of year when suddenly I realize there's house cleaning to do, a menu should be written, decorations have to be assembled, cooking will commence shortly, and generally speaking, a whole lotta work needs to be done.

And so today, I have soups, lots and lots of soup. Because the truth is you really didn't need another Thanksgiving recipe. If you're anything like me, you're suffering from recipe fatigue, which, in case you hadn't heard of it, is the official name (given by me) to the disorder that arises from standing in the grocery store checkout line scouring the latest lifestyle magazines offering something like 334 new cookie recipes (because you've probably finished making the 334 cookie recipes from last year's edition of said magazine and you need a few hundred more), 423 ways to cook your holiday turkey (with step-by-step photos of each and every one), 692 drinks to serve your guests, 52 new ways to make sweet potato casserole and 100 ways to decorate your Thanksgiving table.

I. Am. So. Stressed.

Or at least I was up until a few days ago when I realized that I don't have to do all that. I can make it as fun and easy as I want. I don't really need 982 new recipes for this holiday season. No one does. So, I'm keeping it simple. I have a few recipes picked out for this Thursday and one of them is a soup. The rest I'll have a good time making. If something doesn't turn out, oh well. If everything isn't pretty, that's okay. If the table doesn't have fine china, we won't care. We'll just make some good food, eat it together, be thankful for our blessings and enjoy the day. Happy Thanksgiving.


175 Soups for a Warm and Healthy Thanksgiving


1. Cooking Light has 100 Healthy Soups, all with thumbnail photos and the soup title on one page so you can just scroll down and look. I had the best time looking through this list deciding which ones to make. If you can't find a soup there that looks good, I'm not sure I can help you:)



2. The Kitchn.Com has a page of 25 nourishing soups with photos and they look fantastic:


3. Best Health Magazine has links to 33 super healthy concotions, including a section devoted to mushroom soups. Yum!



4. Green Soups are fantastic for health and an easy way to get those in season leafy vegetables. Here are some that look and sound great:







Spinach and Coconut Soup from French Cooking For Dummies (I tried this one already and love it!)



5. We can't forget about the power of orange this winter. We all know about the health benefits of winter squash, sweet potatoes and carrots, and an easy way to eat a large quantity is with a soup. Here are eight recipes that sound good to me:








Thursday, November 10, 2011

Maple, Mustard and Caraway Dressing


This recipe knocks two items off my list. If you're new around here (welcome and thanks for stopping by if that's the case), I recently started working through my long list of recipes to try, cooking techniques to learn and ingredients I've passed by for years in the grocery store and thought "now what would I do with that?"

There's a recipe for Maple-Mustard Vinaigrette I've kept in my binder for a couple of years now, torn out of a 2009 copy of Eating Well magazine. I was charmed by the thought of such a combination. It sounded mysterious and sophisticated. Maple and Mustard. I liked how it just rolled off the tongue.

It's not such a long traipse from Maple-Mustard to Honey-Mustard dressing, which, quite frankly, leaves me flat. Honey and Mustard? All I can picture is a flimsy cardboard box filled with breaded chicken and a plastic container with a pull off lid and some sort of neon yellow concoction inside. (And I'm not knocking Chick-Fil-A either because I'm all about their nuggets). But you get the picture. Honey-Mustard is like the Coca-Cola of salad dressings, jeans, t-shirt, going to movies or the mall. Maple-Mustard is the sparkling glass of champagne all glammed up for a New Year's eve party. That's how differently the two dressings strike me, anyway. One seems special and the other doesn't.


And then there are caraway seeds. Oh caraway, what do I do with you? I bought a bottle six months ago on a whim, thinking I surely must cook with it. The bottle sat there in my pantry for a long time, finally getting shoved to the back of the spice section where I promptly forgot about it. It only recently resurfaced when my husband went on an organizing spree and dragged it out from its hiding place.

I suppose I was thinking Pumpernickel when I bought the caraway. I can't remember now, but that bottle of seeds just sitting there in the front row of my spice section for the past few weeks started to bother me. I felt I must use them. It just so happened that about the same time I decided to make that Maple and Mustard Vinaigrette and wondered how caraway would taste in the dressing.

It would seem to be an easy sell, Maple and Mustard, especially given the fact that honey and mustard is such a natural combination. But I didn't find that to be the case. I normally have good luck with dressings/vinaigrettes, and 99.999% of the time I can toss one together and make it taste good or great with little effort. Salad dressings are fun to make, easy, and the only limit is your own creativity. But this one was tougher. My first few tries were terrible.


I didn't find that maple and mustard was the same natural combination as honey and mustard. It actually seemed to be non-complimentary at times. (Maybe it was just the cook, eh?) But whatever the reason, I remade this numerous times to get it the way I wanted.

To be fair to the original recipe in Eating Well, I want to say that I never made it exactly as it was written and, had I done that and gotten the essence of their recipe, I might have saved myself some work. But the Eating Well recipe called for walnut oil, which I didn't have on hand. I like walnut oil and have used it on occasion. But I didn't want to spend money on something I wasn't sure I'd use again immediately so I substituted other oils in my attempt to create my own dressing.

Avocado oil was not the best choice. It has a strong aftertaste and didn't work well. Coconut Oil was so-so, but overall I just wasn't wowed. I finally just went for good old fashioned olive oil and, you know what, it was great. I made significant changes to the original recipe, enough that I feel I have my own recipe now.


Since it's getting into greens season, I thought this was a good time to share it. You can increase the dijon and caraway if you like and tweak it to your taste. Or the caraway can be left out altogether. The dressing is good without it, too. But I do think the caraway gives it a little extra something something.


Mustard, Maple and Caraway Vinaigrette
Inspired by Maple-Mustard Vinaigrette in Eating Well Magazine

1 tablespoon maple syrup
1 tablespoon dijon mustard
1 tablespoon white distilled vinegar
2 tablespoons sour cream
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 very small clove of garlic *(see note below)
1/8 teaspoon sea salt
1/8 teaspoon caraway seeds

Place ingredients in a food processor and blend until smooth. *Add garlic in small quantities until you get the amount you like. One medium or large clove can easily overpower this dressing. I found one that was tiny and used that. 

Saturday, October 29, 2011

Homemade Onion Powder

I've been uncertain about this post for awhile now. Should I post it or hit delete and forget the idea?

It borders dangerously close to being what I like to call a "make work" post. My husband repeats a Mexican saying occasionally, "Hacer una tormenta en un vasa de agua" or "to make a storm in a glass of water." It refers to making a big deal out of something small. And so I've wondered, am I making a storm in a glass of water here?

Here's what I mean. It's really not necessary to make your own onion powder or garlic powder or ginger powder. It takes time, you need to have a dehydrator or a commitment to keeping an eye on the oven for a very long time, and, in the end, what you'll end up with could easily be bought for just a few dollars. Why even do this? And furthermore, why post it?

Initially I considered all that and left it alone in my drafts. But then I thought more about it. I don't make my own onion powder because I have to. (There are plenty of places to buy it). I don't make it for frugality. (I can afford the few dollars to buy it.) I don't make it to avoid chemicals, preservatives or anti-caking agents that might lurk in the store-bought brands. (Those are easily avoided by purchasing a high quality product like this one.)

So, why do it?

Because I like to. It's fun. It's easy. And I get to feel like Caroline Ingalls in the kitchen for an afternoon (okay, okay, Caroline Ingalls with electricity and modern appliances -- don't spoil it for me). When I thought about it from that point of view, I decided to go ahead and post it.

If you ask a million people about their favorite cooking ingredient, you'll likely get a million different answers. There may be some overlap, but taste is such a personal thing. In my kitchen, onions reign. I know many people would put garlic at the top of the list, and that might make it into my top five. But if you look at the recipes on this site, a good number begin with one simple onion. I keep bowls full of them in the pantry and on the kitchen table so I'm not in danger of running out, although there is always that possiblity as much as I use them.



Funny thing is, I used to be an onion hater. When my little son separates the onion pieces from the meatloaf  I've made and refuses to eat them, I feel like I'm looking at a mirror image of myself at that age. I did exactly the same thing. In fact, I did that into adulthood, just despised those onions. A change came around the time I started cooking. I realized one day that an onion could make all the difference and nearly everything I loved to eat started with this one vegetable. In my early days of cooking, I often ran out of onions. That was before I had a backup plan, before I realized I even needed a backup plan.

I remember being frustrated at times. I'd suddenly see a recipe that I just had to make and go to the cupboard in anticipation of the most delicious dish ever. To not find even a trace of an onion was a disappointment. Worse yet was the day a freak snowstorm arrived or the heavens poured rain and I wanted nothing more than to stay home, cozy up in flannel and slippers and make something that bubbled and simmered on the stovetop.

All the while I'd fear that the stray onion I was sure I'd seen behind the pasta boxes or maybe underneath the carrots way in the back of the refrigerator was likely nothing more than a figment of my hopeful imagination. Once or twice of this routine, of searching in vain, left me with a choice. I could make soup without onion (unthinkable!), brave the merciless weather to buy one, or come up with a backup plan so that none of the other choices were necessary.

My initial backup plan consisted of buying a container of dehydrated onions to stash with my spices. They wouldn't be as good as the real thing, but in a pinch it was better than the alternatives. And that plan worked for awhile. I was happy and comfortable in the knowledge that ice, wind, hail, or the blizzard to end all blizzards wouldn't come between me and my onions. The backup plan changed a couple of years ago when I bought my own dehydrator and discovered I could make my own dried onions. Shortly thereafter came onion powder. 

Whether or not you want to make powder with your dehydrated onions is a matter of preference. Once dehydrated, onion flakes can be used in a similar manner as powder. So, for some people, the simple of act of dehydrating the onions and placing them in a mason jar for storage, might be enough. There are times, though, when powder is a nice option for recipes that call for it specifically.

The basic process is easy. It involves dehydrating the onions and grinding them in a spice grinder. That's it. The end. Couldn't be simpler. (See, I told you. Storm, meet glass of water). But there are a few things to know.

One important note is that onion powder and garlic powder will cake if left for too long, especially in humid environments (like, oh say, Houston, Texas). So rather than adding something to stop the caking, I bypass the entire issue and just grind the dehydrated onions into powder right before I need them.

The best storage scenario is to place the onions in a vacuum-packaged bag and freeze them. But, not everyone has a vacuum-package machine. I do, but most of the time I keep onions in jelly jars that are sealed tight in the freezer. Diana DeLong in her book How To Dry Foods writes that dehydrated onions will keep at 34 degrees for 8 to 16 months and 30 to 60 months at 0 degrees. (I'm linking to the older edition because that's what I have, but apparently there is a new edition now).

Probably the most difficult part of learning to dehydrate is figuring out when the food is actually completely dry and ready to be packaged. DeLong has a mathematical equation in her book if you want to be precise, but I've done it for long enough that I just go by how they appear. A little practice and you'll know, too. Onions that are properly dehydrated will be shriveled and dry to the touch. Commercially dried onions will usually snap when dried, but mine have never been that crisp. Mine end up crisp but bendy. They won't necessarily snap when broken in half, but almost.

Oven-drying onions is possible, but is not the easiest thing in the world. Optimal temperature is 130 to 145 degrees and most ovens only go as low as 170 degrees. Some people dehydrate their foods by setting the oven to the lowest temperature and propping the door open. I don't go this route because there's too much time with the oven door left open and a curious little person who might start thinking it's okay to stick his fingers in there.

Onions that have been stored and appear moldy or smell odd should be tossed. When in doubt throw them out.


Homemade Onion Powder

Step 1. Chop onion finely as you would to use as the base of a soup or stew (like the chopped onion photo here)
Step 2. Place onion on the dehydrator tray
Step 3. Turn dehydrator to 130 degrees.
Step 4. Wait for a long time. It can take anywhere from 8 to 12 hours or even possibly longer in humid areas. 
Step 5. Once dried, store in an airtight container in the freezer. Place the amount you want for powder into a spice grinder and grind until a fine powder.

Homemade Garlic Powder

Garlic powder is made the same way as onion powder. Just slice garlic and dehydrate until dry and crisp at the same temperature -- 130 degrees. Unlike home dehydrated onions, dried garlic slices will snap when broken in half when done. Grind into powder in a spice grinder.

My other dehydrator posts:



Saturday, October 22, 2011

Vanilla-Rum Flan

I don't post many desserts here, mostly because I try to keep sweets out of my diet. But flan has been on my list of things to make for a long time. I was intimidated to try it because it sounded difficult, although the worst thing that could happen is it wouldn't turn out and I'd have to try again. No big deal.

I've already tried a recipe for a different dish this week that didn't set. So, I suppose, that unsuccess helped me realize that having a failure in the kitchen is not the end of the world. It's what the learning process is all about. If it goes well, I learn. If it doesn't, I still learn.

I'm happy to report, though, that flan was a success on the first go. I would like to say that it was really hard, that I sweat it out in the kitchen and labored intensively for hours on end to come up with this recipe. But the truth is, it was pretty easy.
Flan is baked in a water bath.
After my recipe failure earlier in the week with a different dish, I got a little more cautious about figuring out the proper amount of liquid to add in recipes that need to "set", and spent time looking at the ratio of eggs to liquid in some of the flan recipes online. That probably contributed to this one working out. I realized there is a wide variation in the amount of eggs to liquid in flan recipes, and I took a middle-of-the-road approach with five eggs to forty ounces of liquid. It set beautifully.

When I first decided to make flan, I sat down and started reading recipes and tutorials online to get the basic process down. (And I've linked to some of those below). I found recipes to make flan with every kind of milk imaginable, from goat's milk to almond milk, coconut milk, rice milk and even buttermilk. It was fun to see all the unique and creative combinations that people had put together.

I ultimately decided on a rum and vanilla flan using coconut milk. The rum was inspired by this recipe. The coconut milk by this recipe. And the vanilla because it's delicious and classic combined with rum.

The air bubbles lingered throughout the baking process and can be seen just slightly here. They didn't affect the final dessert, though.
 Once I actually got into making the recipe, my big concern was air bubbles. What to do about them? Will they affect the finished dessert? They appeared when I used my stand mixer to whip the milk, eggs and flavorings together, and I was immediately worried about whether they would be an issue. I found the answer in this recipe, which states pouring the mixture through a fine mesh strainer will reduce air bubbles. I found this does help, but only if the mixture is poured very slowly. The same goes for pouring the mixture into the ramekins. This needs to be done slowly, slowly, slowly, otherwise you'll just add more air bubbles.

Just cooled and ready to be inverted.
 I poured the mixture through a strainer, then poured slowly into the ramekins and let them rest on the counter for about five minutes before cooking. I still had some air bubbles, but they didn't affect the final dessert. So, don't panic if you see them while the flan is baking or after you take them out of the oven. It doesn't necessarily mean your dessert is ruined. (It doesn't mean you're safe either, as I read one message board where people did have a problem with air bubbles ruining the flan.) But mine were minimal and didn't affect the final outcome.

I wondered about something else while I made this recipe. What is the difference between flan and crème brûlée? Other than the obvious differences: one is baked with a sugar sauce on the bottom and then inverted and the other is baked, then broiled with a layer of sugar on top to form a hard sugar crust, I wanted to know what other things make each one unique. As you might guess, crème brûlée is one of the things on my list to make. I went searching and found this discussion about that issue, which was helpful, but I'll likely read more.

I used sweetened condensed milk in this recipe, which I'm sure those of a health-conscious mind will view as a cardinal sin. But I like to start simple when learning a new cooking technique. It would be no stretch now for me to try making flan with a natural sweetener like honey or maple syrup. And, more than likely, you'll see a healthier recipe for flan here at some point using one of those sweeteners. But when trying to make something new, I like to keep it simple and go with the method that is most likely to guarantee success.  That way I get the process down, understand the how and why of making the dish and I'm not distracted with trying to "create" something. In other words, I want to learn to make it first and then I can tinker with a more original recipe later.

I will say that this recipe was outstanding. I'm not much of self-promoter, but this one rocks. There was one full day when I kept going to the refrigerator saying "just one more bite and that's all, I swear!" I'm not going to tell you how many of them I ate by myself, but suffice it to say there are going to be a lot spinach salads in my future this week to make up for it.

Below the recipe are links to the instructions, tutorials and recipes I looked at before plunging into my flan-making adventure.

Vanilla-Rum Flan

For the flan:

2 (13.25-ounce) cans of unsweetened coconut milk
1 (14-ounce) can of sweetened condensed milk
5 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3 tablespoons dark rum
1/4 teaspoon salt

For the sugar glaze:

1 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup organic white sugar
1/4 cup water

You'll also need:

12 (4-ounce) ramekins

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

In a saucepan, place water, brown sugar and organic white sugar over medium heat. Stir together until sugar dissolves. Then, wipe down edges of pan with a wet pastry brush or a dampened clean cloth. Once sugar is dissolved, don't stir anymore. Simply swirl lightly every once in awhile and allow the sugar to boil gently. Mine did fine on medium heat for about five minutes or until it thickens slightly and turns a dark brown color.

Remove from heat and place a tablespoon of syrup in the bottom of each ramekin. The sugar will solidify slightly in the ramekins while you make the flan mixture. That's okay. It will liquify again during the cooking process and become a sweet, syrupy glaze.

Place coconut milk, sweetened condensed milk, eggs, vanilla, rum and salt in a mixing bowl and beat until smooth with an electric mixer, stand mixer or by hand. If air bubbles appear, pour the mixture very slowly through a fine mesh strainer into another mixing bowl or allow to just sit for a few minutes on the counter.

Once mixed, scoop out mixture into a 1/2 cup measuring cup and pour slowly, very slowly into a ramekin to prevent air bubbles from forming. Each ramekin should get 1/2 cup of mixture.

Place the ramekins in a roasting pan and pour very hot water (I microwaved my water for about a minute to get it hotter than tap temperature) around the ramekins until it reaches about halfway up the sides. Bake for 45 minutes. Then, turn oven off and allow to sit for another 10 minutes.

Cool on a rack for 10 minutes. Gently run a butter knife around the edges of the flan to loosen it from the ramekin and then invert flan onto plates. Serves 12.


Tutorials, guides and recipes for flan that were helpful to me:






Monday, October 17, 2011

Alphabet Soup Recipe

The weather has cooled down enough here on some evenings that we can take our three-year-old to the playground. He makes friends easily there and the other night he found a boy of similar age to play with. They had a great time racing at breakneck speed down the slide and then running around and trying to beat each other up the ladder to race down again. They were running so fast that I could hear them sucking in their breath just as hard as they could every time they passed me by. Needless to say, my son slept well that night.

The next night we returned around the same time and the little boy was there again. He and my son immediately resumed their game, and we soon found out his name was Benjamin. Along with Benjamin, another little boy, Andrew, joined the group.

While there are times I'd like to sit down on the benches nearby and watch the kids play, I almost never do. I figure in ten years my son will be 13 and he won't want me to slide down the slide with him anymore so I'd better do it now. Of course, when the other kids showed up, I took a breather and let them play together, but still stayed close by. At some point, Benjamin came down the slide and looked up at me and reached out his hand and said "here's an L". I promptly replied with a thank you and told him I'd put it in my pocket.

Then, my son came down the slide and said "here's a W". I gave him a similar response and then Andrew came down and handed me an imaginary "T". Suddenly, a new game was on. With every slide down, one of the kids would hand me an invisible letter. I'd take the letter, thank them and tell them how I'd always wanted my very own letter B or how Z is one of the best letters ever and how nice of them to let me keep it for them. I had to get creative after awhile, coming up with new ways to praise whatever letter they were bringing me, but it was fun.

Benjamin really got into it and, after awhile, he was bringing me five and ten letters at a time. At one point he brought me an H,I,J,K,L,M,N,O and a P. I thanked him and told him my pocket was getting very full, but I'd try to squeeze them in. And then my son walked over and said "Wow, that's a lot of letters!"

I was amazed at their imagination and how all of them jumped right into the game and just went with it. Later, the game ended when someone suddenly discovered buried treasure and gold coins (invisible, of course) and they forgot to hand me letters because they were busy being pirates and carrying around the treasure box.
 
The whole thing got me thinking about Alphabet Soup. I gave up canned soups years ago, but I have good memories of growing up with the Campbell's variety. It was probably my favorite of their soups so I was excited at the thought of making it at home. I just had to find ABC pasta first.

I vaguely remembered seeing alphabet pasta in the grocery store awhile back so I went looking for it and found it in the International aisle in the Mexican section at Kroger. For some reason, I think I've seen it at Wal-mart also, but don't quote me on that because I don't go there often and I could be wrong about them carrying it. The brand I found was called La Moderna and it's about as cheap a thing as you can buy in my store -- 39 cents for a 7-ounce bag. Whole Foods also sells a Whole Wheat Alphabet Soup Mix in their bulk bin section, which looks to be a good option, but that is a complete soup mix with dehydrated vegetables and I wanted to add my own.

I'd planned to take a glance at the back of the Campbell's can when I was at the store last time so I could make mine like theirs but I actually forgot to do that. I just went my own way with it and it turned out well. My husband loved it. I can't say my three-year-old was as excited about it. He liked playing with the dried pasta and looking at the letters in the bowl, but he has never liked soup and didn't want to try it. My husband, on the other hand, told me that pasta soup was his grandfather's favorite so I think it brought back some memories for him.

Considering that we're supposed to get our first really cold night tomorrow (the low is supposed to be around 45 at night and yes that's cold for us), I thought it was time to make soup. Boxed chicken stock can be used. But I've noticed during the past year when making soups that homemade stock really takes it up a notch. To me, it's one of the secrets to great soup. I used chicken stock, but a good veggie or even beef stock would work. This could easily be made vegetarian by taking out the bacon, but I added it to make the soup a little more substantial and give it extra flavor. Think of this soup, too, when you get your first winter cold. It's warming, filling and just plain good.


Alphabet Soup Recipe

5 cups of chicken stock
1 cup of zucchini, diced very small
1 cup of carrots, diced very small
1/2 cup white onion, finely chopped
1 garlic clove, minced
1 slice of uncured, nitrate/nitrite-free bacon, sliced into small pieces
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
1 dried bay leaf
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1/4 cup dried alphabet pasta
1/2 teaspoon sea salt plus extra to taste if needed

In a soup-making pot, turn heat to medium and add chopped bacon, cooking for about two minutes and allowing fat to render. Add 1 tablespoon olive oil and add onions and bay leaf to the pot. Allow to cook for six minutes, stirring occasionally, until softening and bacon is cooked through. Add garlic and 1/2 teaspoon sea salt and cook for two minutes, stirring often.

Add in chicken stock, zucchini and carrots. Bring to a simmer for five minutes to let carrots and zucchini start to soften. Add alphabet pasta and cook for seven more minutes until al dente. Stir in tomato paste and check seasoning. Add salt if needed. Remove bay leaf. Serves 4.

Sunday, October 09, 2011

Glimmer-Glazed Greens

I like to check my garden in the morning and in the evening. I'm what is called an a.m. and a p.m. checker. Something might have grown a millimeter between dawn and dusk and if it does, I want to be there to see it. 

It's always a good idea to see what's happening out there. If I check often, I'm able to spot insects and take action before they damage my plants. But most of the time, my modus operendi is this:  look and see. I just want to know what's going on.

One day last week I did my a.m. check and all was well. Then, I did my p.m. check, and noticed that one of the tomato plants had been trampled down. Not blown over, but walked on. It was windy, but not enough that it would have blown half a tomato plant to the ground. It had clearly been stepped on and by something heavy enough to permanently drive the plant to the soil.

I stood there for a minute and felt a little chill run down my spine. A mouse couldn't have done that. A rat couldn't have done it. Not a snake, either. Whatever stepped on that tomato plant had to have been ten pounds or more. I know we have skunks around and I saw a raccoon about a year ago. But those are generally nocturnal unless one was out looking for food during the day. Could have been. Or rabid. And I started glancing over my shoulder a little.

Then, my mind started getting the best of me and I remembered a story recently on the local news about a guy who said he saw a mountain lion in his backyard. He had called in some experts to examine the paw prints to figure out what it was. He saw the cat perched up on his fence and described it as very large and a wild animal. The local experts had said that mountain lions do not live in the Houston area and it was likely a bobcat.

Oh, a bobcat. That's all. Well, that would be just peachy to run into a bobcat in my backyard. And then I got a little more nervous. What if it was a bobcat? What would I do if I ran into a bobcat? Is that how it's all going to end? I'm working in the peacefulness of my backyard, enjoying my garden, planting seeds and harvesting hard-earned vegetables and then......... Pounce! I could hear the Channel 2 promo now "Gardener Done In By Big Cat, Film at 11".

Okay, all right, so I might have a little bit of an active imagination. (What? Everyone doesn't worry about a bobcat attack in their backyard?) I know, it wasn't a bobcat. More than likely it was a raccoon. But quite frankly that does not calm my nerves that much. I don't want to run into one of those either. A wild animal is a wild animal. And running into a skunk does not sound like a pleasant experience either.

I still don't know what trampled down my tomato plant. But I am looking over my shoulder a little more in the garden these days. And while keeping watch for any large wild animals that might be lurking, I planted enough spinach, swiss chard and lettuce seeds to feed the entire west side of Houston.

Whenever I plant seeds, I start thinking about how I'm going to use the vegetable once it's ready. I also try to avoid buying it because I don't want to get tired of it before I even start eating it from the garden. I came up with this recipe in anticipation of a big green harvest in about six weeks. I chose Bok Choy to sauté with shallots in a simmering vinegar and mustard emulsion. Any green would likely do, but I wanted to get off the beaten path so-to-speak and chose one that I won't be growing this year. I'm planning to use this recipe for swiss chard and spinach soon enough.

I call it Glimmer-Glazed Greens because of the shimmering swirl that reflected from the sauce in the sun. I set the jar down on my kitchen table and then walked to the counter to finish chopping the greens. When I glanced over, the oil and the vinegar had separated into two thick bands. With the honey swirling through the oil in the bottom layer and the rich dark vinegar on top, it glimmered and glowed in the light and was just beautiful.


Glimmer-Glazed Greens

1 Head of Bok Choy *see note below
3 Tablespoons finely chopped shallot
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
4 Tablespoons balsamic vinegar
2 Tablespoons red wine vinegar
1 teaspoon dijon mustard
2 Tablespoons honey
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup olive oil

Place two tablespoons of olive oil in a pan and warm to medium. Add shallots and stir two-to-three minutes until softening. In a jar or container with a lid, whisk together 1/4 cup olive oil, balsamic vinegar, red wine vinegar, mustard, honey and salt. Add Bok Choy to the pan with the shallots and sauté three to four minutes until it turns a bright green color and is just wilting. Add in sauce and stir until just heated through.

*You can leave Bok Choy whole or chop it. I like things bite-sized so I chopped it.

Saturday, October 01, 2011

Toasted Cashew and Apple Rice

I'm supposed to be on a picnic right now, sitting on a striped blanket under a Maple tree eating Lemon Roasted Chicken with a side of Toasted Cashew and Apple Rice and watching my son and my husband kick the soccer ball around. I should be breezily flipping through an old copy of Eating Well magazine that I kept meaning to read and never got around to, feeling warm wisps of sun filter through the branches, and watching a stray crumpled leaf float gently to the ground. It should be idyllic, the kind of stuff that magazine photo spreads are made of.

What I'm really doing is wearing my favorite be-lazy-around-the-house comfy-clothes, staying under the covers, sipping a hot cup of honey-sweetened Chai, and making sure I have plenty of tissue and Dayquil nearby. No makeup, ponytail askew, mismatched clothes, it's not pretty around here right now.

I worked part of Friday putting together a picnic lunch in anticipation of our outing. I felt a cold coming on, but brushed it off. By this morning I was coughing and congested and we knew the picnic was toast. Such a bummer. I was so looking forward to it. Last weekend we'd packed up and headed out to the park and thoroughly enjoyed an afternoon of family time under that Maple tree I was talking about. It was a little warm and early in the season to try to spend a day outside (it was still in the mid-90s here last week), but a cold front pushed through late Thursday, bringing rain and much cooler air and we were eager to repeat our picnic this weekend under a more autumn-like sky.

While I'm sorry the picnic didn't come off, I can't say this rice recipe was a mistake. I think this one will end up being one of my favorites. The recipe is a play on Waldorf Salad, with apples, celery, cashews (instead of walnuts), golden raisins and brown rice taking the main stage while a warm and tangy Red Wine Vinaigrette marries it all together. No mayonnaise here and it doesn't need it so you're good for a healthier dish. I love it. And it's a good thing because coming off a week of recipes that just did not turn out the way I'd hoped, I was beginning to think I'd better stop this cooking nonsense and just follow a recipe once in awhile.

I'd planned to share some picnic photos here, but since I'm not actually on a picnic I thought I'd post a few photos of the flowers that suddenly appeared along our back fence about two weeks ago. Morning Glories! I love them. They grew wild in the front yard of a house I lived in awhile back and I fell in love with them then.
Morning glories will absolutely grow out of control and take over, but that's what I love about them. Most people would probably pull them up before they get to that point. But I won't. I love that whole cascading down the fence thing. It makes me feel like I'm in Italy or something.

Sun in the morning

I can only hope the neighbors love Morning Glories as much as I do and don't pull them because they're coming from their side of the fence.

A delicious rice dish with apples, celery and cashews in a tangy vinaigrette.

Toasted Cashew and Apple Rice

For the rice:

¾ cup chopped red onion
3 cups of water
1 and ½ cups of uncooked brown rice
½ teaspoon salt
1 cup finely chopped celery
½ cup golden raisins
½ cup raw cashews (not salted)
2 apples, diced

For the dressing:

1 Tablespoon Orange Juice
¼ cup Red Wine Vinegar
1 garlic clove, finely minced
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
¾ teaspoon salt
3 big pinches of black pepper
1 Tablespoon light muscavado sugar or light brown sugar
¼ cup extra virgin olive oil

Add ingredients for the dressing in a jar or container with a lid and shake until emulsified. Refrigerate until ready to use.

Place red onion, rice, water and ½ teaspoon of salt into a saucepan and cover tightly. Turn heat to medium and cook 35 to 40 minutes or until rice is tender. More water can be added toward the end of cooking if needed (sometimes mine needs a little extra).

While the rice cooks, place cashews in a large fry pan and place over low-medium heat on the stovetop. Shake the pan occasionally and allow the cashews to just turn light golden brown. It will take about 4 to 6 minutes. Don’t leave cashews unattended as they can burn easily. Once lightly toasted, place in a bowl and allow to cool.

Once the rice is done, drain well and place in a mixing bowl. Add in chopped celery, apples, toasted cashews, and golden raisins. Pour dressing in, just enough to coat and toss.

This rice can be served cold or slightly warmed.

Serves 4.

Note: Never store garlic in olive oil. It is a risk for botulism. Discard any unused dressing.


Fat Tuesday; Foodie Friday

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Purple Pasta

Think this pasta doesn't look purple? Read on to find out what's in it.
My intention this fall was to start working through my list of things I've always wanted to make. It started with that Texas Pecan Biscotti and continued with the Red Onion Confit last week. The Braised September Vegetable dish two weeks ago was a momentary departure as it hadn't been on my list. I made it on the spur of the moment when I saw a recipe in a cookbook that ended up being fantastic and I had to try my own version of it.

Other than that one detour I'm trying to keep myself on track and work down my list. It's hard though. I keep changing things and coming up with something totally different than what I intended. For instance, this pasta is a far cry from what it started out to be.

It was supposed to be Pasta Norma, made from a recipe I tore out of Family Circle Magazine several years ago. I used to keep a notebook with all sorts of recipe clippings, just an odd assortment of pages pulled from magazines or printed from The Food Network website or, another favorite at the time, Epicurious. There's even one scrap of paper with a hastily scribbled list of ingredients from a recipe I'd seen in a magazine while waiting in a doctor's office. It's written on the back of a torn piece of paper from the company I was working for back then. Looking at that paper takes me right back to that time in my life. I remember how I felt and what I was doing on the day I wrote that recipe down and I marvel at how different things are for me these days. Life can change so much in such a short time and all of that, the job and its problems and stresses, seem a world away now.

About a week ago I was paging through my binder and way in the back was this Pasta Norma recipe that I'd never made. As soon as I saw it I was smitten again. I liked the picture in the magazine and I'm sure that's what caused me to tear it out and keep it. So that was the plan. Make Pasta Norma, enjoy cooking something new, and have a nice family weeknight dinner. The end. It wasn't even supposed to go on this site. Somehow, though, that's not the way it worked out.
Purple!
 It all started with the eggplant. I'd asked my husband to pick up a couple at the store so I could make Pasta Norma. He stored them in the gigantic bowl of red onions that I keep in the pantry. (It used to be a bowl of sweet onions, but red onions are my newest obsession). When I opened the pantry I saw all that purple and thought "oh this is going to be too purple. I'd better add some other colors to brighten this up."

Later, I stopped by Whole Foods for a red and green pepper to mix things up a bit and I came face-to-face with a basket of purple sweet peppers. That's when I said "okay, purple, you win. It is your week. You will have your own recipe." After that I had to add the sumac in (you know I had to because it's purple) and it was all over for Pasta Norma. I was no longer making that. I was making something else.
Purple!
 As a side note let me say that I could have tried to beautify that photo of the purple peppers a little more. I mean I could have cropped out the cuts or arranged the peppers so they didn't show. But here's the thing, that's how vegetables really look when they come right out of the home garden (unless maybe you've got a few layers of bird netting up and have sprayed the plants within an inch of their lives with pesticides). But most of the time, home grown veggies aren't perfect and shiny and smooth. They have a few blemishes and dings and maybe they're mishapen or slightly discolored. That's part of the charm. Now those peppers weren't grown in my garden, but I've learned through my own growing efforts that perfect looks don't always equate to perfect taste. Sometimes, imperfect is just as good or even better. And anyway, we're into real life around here, not perfection. So I left the photo the way it is.

And more purple!
I'm sure Pasta Norma is delicious. It's just that I've never made it. Someday, I will. If you've never tried it, there's a nice recipe over on the Family Circle site. Or you could make this one, tasty too, and full of a few of my favorite purple things: eggplant, red onions, purple peppers, and sumac.

A few notes about the dish: I finished it off with dollops of cottage cheese for extra protein and a sprinkle of thyme leaves. Ricotta could easily be substituted. I also salted, rinsed and drained my eggplant, but it's not required. Modern varieties of eggplant aren't nearly as bitter as their ancestors once were, but I still like to go through the process so I included directions in the recipe below.

Salting is just part of my routine now when I cook eggplant, probably because I did it the first time I cooked eggplant and now it's just what I do. I like the process and feel like I've cut corners if I don't do it. I've tried salting and not salting, and I like the texture of the eggplant better when it's salted. It simply soaks up too much oil for my taste when not salted. But, again, it's up to you. I tend to be generous with the salt. Just be sure to rinse well.

A dollop of cottage cheese and fresh thyme leaves make a nice garnish.

Purple Pasta
Inspired by Family Circle's Recipe for Pasta Norma

12 ounces of whole grain egg noodles
2 medium-sized eggplants, diced, salted, rinsed, drained and patted dry
1/2 cup diced purple sweet pepper (use red if you can't find purple)
1 cup finely chopped red onion
1 (28-ounce) can crushed tomatoes
2 and 1/2 teaspoons sumac granules
2 teaspoons fresh marjoram
1 teaspoon fresh oregano
2 teaspoons fresh thyme leaves plus extra for garnish
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
3/4 teaspoon sea salt plus extra for pasta water and seasoning to taste
1/8 teaspoon black pepper
2 plump cloves of garlic, minced
1 cup vegetable stock
1/2 cup cottage cheese

Dice the eggplant into smaller-than-bite-sized pieces and place in a colander. Sprinkle about half teaspoon of salt over the top and toss. Sprinkle more salt and toss. Repeat until you think all the eggplant is lightly salted (I don't ever measure the amount of salt. I just repeat the process a few times and leave it at that). Place the colander filled with salted eggplant on top of a bowl and let the juices drain for 30 minutes.

Meanwhile, chop the onion, dice the sweet pepper and mince the garlic. Set aside.

After 30 minutes, discard juices in the bowl underneath the eggplant and rinse the eggplant well. Set aside to drain for a few minutes. Pat the eggplant dry with a paper towel or clean kitchen towel.

At this point, fill a big pot with water and add a palmful of salt. Heat water to boiling and add pasta, cooking according to package directions. Drain pasta when done and set aside.

While pasta cooks, make the sauce. Place olive oil in a large pot or large, deep fry pan. Heat to medium and add eggplant, onions and sweet pepper. Cook for about 8 minutes until vegetables are softening.

Add in garlic and 3/4 teaspoon salt. Stir and cook for two minutes.

Add in crushed tomatoes, sumac, marjoram, oregano, pepper, thyme and vegetable stock. Stir together and bring to a slow simmer.

Simmer ten minutes, stirring occasionally. Check for seasoning and adjust as needed.

Toss pasta and eggplant sauce in a large bowl. Spoon into bowls, top with dollops of cottage cheese and a sprinkle of fresh thyme leaves.

Serves 6.


Fat Tuesday; Full Plate Thursday; Foodie Friday
 
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