Showing posts with label recommended books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label recommended books. Show all posts

Sunday, June 7, 2009

How Many Cookbooks is Too Many?


I believe there comes a time in life when every adult begins to question how much stuff is really necessary for leading a happy life. Obviously you need basic food and shelter, and I'm fortunate enough to have that. I remember a time when that was all I thought I needed. Then you graduate college, get a job, start getting paychecks, and start buying stuff. Car, nicer clothes, house, Kichen Aide mixer (ahhh!). And that's great. But then you hit a point in your life when you start to think about the bigger picture (college education for your son, retirement, paying off your house, traveling, starting your fantasy bakery/vegetarian catering business), and all of the material things seem, well, immaterial. And that's where my family is.

Which is great. Life seems simpler. We're saving money, thinking about the future. And I don't miss the things that used to seem so essential.

Except for one thing - cookbooks. I did pretty well for a while. I think I went almost a year without buying a new one. But recently I'm having a bit of a relapse. For Mother's Day, my husband bought me one I'd been resisting for months (Alice Water's Chez Panisse Vegetables). I figured I probably deserved a little Mother's Day present to myself, so I also bought Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything Vegetarian the same day (awesome). I thought that had done it.

Every time I think I've got enough books, the worst happens, I go to someones house and just happen to see a great looking book lying around in their kitchen. This book is just a little different, has something I haven't quite seen before, and fills me with a yearning that I thought I was over.

How bad is the problem? I've got 39 cookbooks total.

  • Purchased: 18. Ok, maybe 7 of these don't count. They are 7 of a 12 volume Woman's Day series published in 1966 (missing volumes 1, 6, 7, 10, and 11).
  • Gifts: 15. My family is well aware of, and exploits, my addiction.
  • Borrowed: 2
  • Hand me Downs: 2
  • No Idea: 1
  • Loaned out: 1 (I never forget)

Which are my favorites? These are books that make me well up with emotion. If I could only take you by the shoulders, look you in the eye, and passionately tell you about the change in my life brought about by these books. Ahhh, but instead, a list will have to do, in chronological order of impact on my life (anyone seen High Fidelity? )

Am I done? I should be. But there are just a few more. I'm sure that once I get these six, I'll definitely, absolutely, certainly be done.

Monday, April 27, 2009

Almond Biscotti and Hazelnut Cheesecake


The April 2009 challenge is hosted by Jenny from Jenny Bakes. She has chosen Abbey's Infamous Cheesecake as the challenge.

So this month was my first month of joining The Daring Bakers for a worldwide baking experiment. What am I talking about? Each month, a group of daring bakers all cook the same recipe, pre-chosen by one host, on the same day and then write about it. This month's challenge, as I said, was to make cheesecake with your own personal twist ... any variation you could devise.

I struggled with this one for a few weeks. I wanted to do something besides the obvious chocolate or berry accompaniments, especially since berries are out of season. I finally settled on a mixed nuts theme.

I skipped the graham crackers in the crust (in keeping with my avoidance of processed foods, I can't bring myself to buy one baked good to make another), and instead decided to search for a dry, crispy cookie with a similar texture to a cracker. Turning to one of my favorite cookbooks, I found Anise-Almond Biscotti from Alice Water's The Art of Simple Food.

Other than the nutty modifications listed below, I followed the recipe exactly.

I used a 9" springform pan, and heeding the warnings about leakage from the water bath, I layered the inside of the pan with about 4 layers of aluminum foil.

The verdict? The cake was definitely as good as or better than restaurant cheesecake - smooth, creamy and fresh instead of the usual soggy and grainy texture common in so many. The mixed nuts worked well together, and the unsweetened hazelnut topping provided a pleasant contrast to the sweetness of the filling. In the end, it may be a little rich for my tastes, but if it's cheesecake you're after, Abbey's recipe is more fabulous than infamous.




The full cheesecake recipe is on JennyBakes blog.





My modifications

  1. Amaretto is the optional liqueur in the filling.
  2. Substitute crumbs of Anise-Almond Biscotti for the graham crackers in the filling.
  3. Top with 1 cup of toasted, coarsely chopped hazelnuts. Spread the hazelnuts on a baking sheet and bake for 6 minutes in a 3500F oven. Let nuts cool. Rub between two rough towels to remove as much skin as possible (you'll never get it all). Crush the nuts in a large mortar and pestle, chop or pulse in a food processor to get a coarse, irregular mix. Press the nuts into the top of the chilled cheesecake.
Anise-Almond Biscotti (from Alice Water's The Art of Simple Food)

*(about 40 cookies - I don't recommend it, but you can halve the recipe if you only want enough for the cheesecake)
  • 1 1/2 c. whole almonds
  • 2 1/4 c unbleached all-purpose flour
  • 1 tsp baking powder
  • 3/4 tsp aniseed
  • 3 eggs, room temperature
  • 1 c sugar
  • 1/4 tsp lemon zest
Preheat the oven to 3500F.

On a baking sheet, toast the almonds in the oven for 5 minutes, let cool and then coarsely chop.

Combine in a bowl the flour, baking powder and aniseed.

In a separate bowl, combine the eggs, sugar and lemon zest. Beat until themixture forms a ribbon. Stir in the flour until just incorporated and then gently fold in the almonds.

On a parchment-paper-lined baking sheet, form the dough into two 3-inch wide loaves, 3 inches apart. Smooth the loaves with damp hands. Bake for 25 minutes, or until lightly golden. Remove from the oven and let cool for about 10 minutes. Lower oven temp to 3000F. Cut the loaves into 1/2 inch thick cookies and place cut side down on 2 baking sheets. Cook for 10 minutes on each side, or until golden brown.

Friday, April 17, 2009

(Finally Enough) Chocolate Mousse Cake


I've been analyzing some pretty serious topics lately (free-range pigs, raw milk). Weighed down by the endless list of thought-provoking issues I'd like to discuss, I need a break. What better diversion than joining in the fun for Poornima's first event on the Tasty Treats blog TASTY TREATS....: Announcing... "For the Love of Chocolate!!"

Let's step back for a moment to discuss the topic of desserts, specifically chocolate ones. We have a love/hate relationship. I love to eat chocolate desserts, but I am always left feeling either unsatisfied or guilty. If I eat enough to satisfy my intense dark chocolate craving, I feel just a bit guilty. If I stop at what most might consider a reasonable quantity, well, that's just not chocolatey enough.

So for this dessert, I had one requirement, and one requirement only. Blow me away with the richest chocolate dessert I'd ever had. Well, I think this one comes pretty close ... Nothing fancy, just a LOT of rich, dark chocolate.

From one of my favorite cookbooks, Darina Allen's Ballymaloe Cookery Course, here it is. Two layers of light, airy chocolate, separated and covered by a thick coating of heavenly, dark, rich, smooth ganache. I'd say there is only one special technique to this recipe... buy good chocolate. I used Callebaut Bittersweet. At about $10/pound (and this recipe uses half a pound), it's not cheap, but really, is there any better use for five dollars than a killer chocolate cake? No contest.

Garden Cafe Chocolate Mousse Cake

Cake
  • 3 organic eggs
  • 250 g (8 oz) caster sugar
  • 6 Tbs water
  • 110 g (4 oz) white flour
  • 25 g (1 oz) unsweetened cocoa
  • 1 tsp baking powder
Ganache

  • 300 ml (1/2 pt) heavy whipping cream
  • 225 (8 oz) really good dark chocolate, finely chopped
Preheat the oven to 1900C/3750F.

Line the bases of two 8 inch cake pans with parchment paper, then butter the bottom and sides and dust with cocoa.

Separate the eggs. Whisk the yolks and sugar for two minutes. Blend in the water. Whisk until firm and creamy, about 10 minutes. I strongly recommend using a mixer because this does take a while. Sift in the flour, cocoa and baking powder.

Beat the egg whites in a separate bowl to stiff peaks, then fold them very gently into the yolk mixture.

Divide the mixture between the two pans and bake for about 30 minutes. Cool on a rack.

Meanwhile make the ganache. Put the cream in a heavy, non-reactive saucepan and bring it almost to the boil. Remove from the heat and add the chopped chocolate. Stir or whisk until smooth. Allow to cool to room temperature. Transfer to a large bowl and whisk until just stiff enough to pipe. Do not over-whisk or it will curdle and separate.

Sandwich the cakes together with the ganache. Spread the rest over the tops and sides of the cake.

Sit back, admire your creation, and then dig in. I recommend two slices for the beginner.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Nature's Perfect Power Bar - cashews, chocolate and apricots



I am what you might call a mildly enthusiastic runner and biker. A few years ago, I would have classified myself as very enthusiastic, and I was about as regimented as it gets. Part of my regimen naturally involved "power" food.

I was into it all - the gels, the bars, the energy drink. I timed workouts meticulously such that I consumed just the right number of calories at just the right intervals in just the right proportions.

You're probably thinking that this doesn't sound very consistent with my philosophies on eating local, natural food. Well, it isn't. And as the years have passed and I've become more interested in really understanding what I'm eating, I don't feel comfortable buying or consuming these little processed energy units.

So what's the alternative? Make my own of course!

My requirements - a combination of quick and slow burning carbohydrates, some salt, a little protein and fat all wrapped up in a neat package. I could carry a banana, a piece of whole wheat bread, some nuts and a few chocolate chips in the pocket of my cycling jersey, but that isn't quite the level of portability I'm hoping for.

Geez, I always do these long, long intros and then finally get around to the point. Basically, my husband and I have been trying to find the perfect natural power bar recipe.

I like the way oatmeal cookies go down - they seem to stay with you, without giving a sugar rush, and they carry other ingredients without breaking down. So this is where we started.

After experimenting with a few different recipes and even more variations, we've finally come pretty close.

As a coincidence, I just came across the following event on the Tasty Treats Blog:


Thanks for giving me the inspiration to write it down, Poornima!

So while we haven't finished our quest, and I will have to confess that none of these "power cookies" have actually made it onto a ride or a run, they have become a weekly feature in our house.

Here they are, modified from a recipe in King Arthur Flour Whole Grain Baking. A little sweet, a little salty, filling but not greasy or heavy, chewy but sturdy enough to hold together in a pocket (as previously mentioned, though, this theory is untested). Delicious AND healthy!!!
One final note/confession... my husband is actually the baker on these great cookies. I'm the happy consultant and consumer.

Nature's Perfect Power Cookie (modified from Nutty for Oats Cookies) makes 24 cookies

  • 1/3 c. smooth peanut butter, room temperature
  • 2 Tbs. unsalted butter, room temperature
  • 3/8 c. (2 3/4 oz) dark brown sugar
  • 1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
  • 1/4 tsp. salt
  • 1/8 tsp. baking soda
  • 1 large egg, room temperature
  • 1/2 c. (1 3/4 oz) rolled oats, ground for 30 seconds in a food processor
  • 3/4 c. (2 5/8 oz) rolled oats
  • 3/4 c. chocolate chips
  • 1/2 c. roasted, salted cashews
  • 10 dried apricots
Preheat the oven to 3750F. Grease 2 baking sheets or line with parchment paper.

Soak the apricots in hot water for a few minutes, then drain and slice thinly.

Cream the peanut butter, butter and sugar in a medium bowl until lightened in color. Mix in the vanilla and egg. In a separate bowl, mix both types of oats and the baking soda, then mix this into the wet ingredients. Add the chocolate chips, cashews and apricots. Drop the dough by tablespoonfuls onto the baking sheets.

Bake until the cookies are just set and beginning to brown around the edges, about 13-15 minutes. Let the cookies cool completely on the pan.

Variations: Any combination of additions can be used as long as it adds up to about 1 and a half cups. We've used raisins, dried cranberries, coconut, and walnuts. They're all good, but the apricot, chocolate, cashew combination is definitely the best.

Friday, April 3, 2009

Ode to Jamie

When I started this blog, I knew that one of the early things I wanted to do was pay tribute to my first cooking love and hero Jamie Oliver. I haven't done it yet because I have a (not so) secret hope of sending him a link to this and that he might actually be interested in reading it - but until I had more content, who would be interested in reading it. Well I have 30 entries now, all of them way too long, so I'll proceed...

First love? You're probably thinking, hmm, that's a bit celebrity-stalker-ish. I mean love strictly in the food sense. I'll start at the beginning.

Let's go back to the year 2000. My husband and I enjoyed a leisurely lifestyle of lazy lie-ins, all day bike rides, sunny afternoons on the West End rooftop patio drinking beer in the shadow of the flatirons (back before the view was blocked by hideous condos), eating out for pretty much every meal, and definitely not cooking. Sounds pretty good right? Actually it wasn't bad. Then he came along.

One night we were watching TV, eating sandwiches from Snarf's (really good sandwiches, actually), and this show came on called The Naked Chef. My husband says, "I've been meaning to tell you about this show. It's hilarious."

I'm sure by now, everyone has seen the reruns, but at the time, it was an all new concept. Like The Real World meets Emeril and goes to Britain with a cool DJ in the background. I was sucked in. For the food? Yea right. For the coolness/dorkiness. On the one hand, the funky kitchen, cool friends just "stopping by" and Jamie's crazy accent seemed so contrived. On the other hand, I wanted to have a funky kitchen, cool friends and a crazy accent.

As I sat back to enjoy my sandwich and laugh at the ridiculousness of such a trendy show, something caught my eye.

"Hey, do you see what he's making? That fish looks really good. And it actually looks kind of easy to make."

I was mesmerized. For the first time in my life, I was actually considering buying and cooking fish.

The blur of infatuation that followed is a little hazy for me to remember now... did I buy the first cookbook the next day, or did I watch a few episodes first? It all happened so fast.

The first cookbook, also called The Naked Chef, kept the promise that the show had made... and this is really what got me hooked. The beautiful, glossy pictures draw you in, but the freshness and ease of the recipes is what keeps you coming back for more.

Jamie doesn't advertise himself as a health food chef, but in my opinion, it doesn't get any healthier. From the beginning, he has been a strong advocate for eating wholesome, organic, natural food - lots of vegetables and herbs in place of pre-made sauces and canned ingredients. That is the origin of the nickname Naked Chef.

Yea, he is a bit of a commercial empire. He has a million cookbooks, I think Jamie Makes a Sandwich is the latest one, but he's done a lot more than get rich. He is one of the strongest voices in the western world to advocate for eating organic, local food, including leading an ongoing campaign to improve school lunches in Britain.

That influence has changed my life forever. From the first time I cooked Fish in a Bag, a whole new world opened for me. Since then I've moved on to other amazing chefs and cookbooks. I don't need the glossy pictures and cool TV shows anymore to get me interested in turning on the stove, but I will always have a special place in my heart for Jamie. There is only one celebrity I'd ever be interested in meeting. And if I did meet him, I would just say Thanks.

I probably shouldn't do this, but here is my favorite Jamie Oliver recipe. Simple and bursting with amazing flavors. From The Naked Chef - which I highly recommend...

Fish Baked in a Bag with Marinated Cherry Tomatoes, Black Olives and Basil

  • 4 fish fillets, about 6-8 oz each (I usually use wild salmon)
  • 1/4 c olive oil
  • 3/4 c dry white wine
  • 1 handful black olives, pitted
  • 1 clove garlic, peeled and finely chopped
  • 1/2 small dried red chili, crumbled
  • 1 handful fresh basil or marjoram, roughly chopped
  • 2-3 Tbs extra virgin olive oil
  • 20 cherry tomatoes, halved or quartered
  • juice of 1 lemon
  • salt and fresh ground pepper
Put the olives, garlic, chili, herbs, extra virgin olive oil and tomatoes into a bowl and toss. Leave for half an hour, then add the lemon juice and seasoning to taste.

Season the fish on both sides with salt and pepper. For each fillet, take a large piece of aluminum foil. Place 1/4 of the tomato mixture in the center of one half. Lay the fish on top of the tomatoes. Fold the foil over and seal two sides by folding over tightly. Add 1 Tbs olive oil and a quarter of the white wine, then seal the remaining side. Bake at 4750 for approximately 10 minutes. I'm not sure why, but this recipe tastes much better when cooked on the grill. Let the fish rest in the bag for 3-4 minutes before opening.

Serve each unopened bag on a plate, to enjoy the fish, tomatoes, juices and all.

Monday, March 16, 2009

St. Paddy's Stripy Cat


As a little preview for St. Patrick's day and for my first time participating in Bread Baking Day, I've decided to make a sweet variation of Irish soda bread. Thanks to Mansi of the Fun and Food Blog for hosting this most appropriate event of making quick breads in the month of St. Patrick's Day!

The recipe comes from Darina Allen's Ballymaloe Cookery Course. Darina Allen runs a cookery school in Ireland. She is a leader in the movement towards eating local, organic cuisine and has been for a lot longer than it has been in fashion.

Simply put, I cannot say enough good things about this cookbook. It seems to be on the shelf in every house I visit in Ireland (about 6), but I have never considered buying it. I have a lot of cookbooks and having skimmed through it, I decided that it was too similar to the Joy of Cooking in its encyclopedic coverage of every topic under the sun. Having lugged home too many cookbooks in my suitcase, I was also put off by its massive bulk. But it couldn't be avoided - we were given it as a gift this last Christmas.

And boy am I glad - in a few short months it has become one of two (Alice Water's The Art of Simple Food is the other) that I turn to almost daily. What's so great about it?

Ms. Allen is a passionate advocate for eating locally and seasonally, which is reflected in most of the recipes. The recipes generally group foods from the same season, which means that I can easily find a recipe to match whatever happens to be in my cupboard.

The sheer number of recipes at first seems like overkill, and I thought it would be hard to choose between recipes. For a reasons I can't understand, the number of recipes seems exactly right - for example, there are 13 recipes for preparing cauliflower, one to fit every mood.

So enough about my cookbook - what is Stripy Cat? It's a variation of Spotted Dog, which is a variation of Irish Soda Bread. Soda bread is a traditional Irish white flour bread, leavened with baking soda and buttermilk. It's a crunchy, rustic, tender, flavorful loaf, a little lighter than the delicious Irish Brown Bread, about which you already know I have passionate feelings.

Spotted Dog is a slightly sweeter version of soda bread, containing an egg, a little sugar and raisins, mmm. Good, but I was looking for something a little richer, and apparently so were they....

Stripy Cat is Spotted Dog but with dark chocolate chunks instead of raisins - even better!

We've made it before, but it wasn't quite what we were looking for ... today we added about 50% more chocolate, a handful of nuts, and a few more teaspoons of sugar. It turned out exactly as we hoped. Rich, crunchy, moist, chocolaty, but not too sweet.

Here is the recipe, with my variations.

In a few of my past bread posts, I've discussed the necessity to reduce flour if you're in Colorado. I do not find that to be the case with soda leavened breads. A friend of mine in New York who experimented with Brown Bread after my first post found that she had to reduce the liquid in order to get the same texture. The takeaway from this is that you should cut in the liquid slowly and stop when the dough seems only just moistened but picks up all the flour.

Stripy Cat

  • 450 g (1 lb) plain (or all-purpose) unbleached flour
  • 1 tsp baking soda
  • 1 tsp salt
  • 1 Tbs sugar
  • 120g (4 1/2 oz) best quality, bittersweet dark chocolate, chopped roughly
  • 1 handful walnuts, chopped
  • 1 large egg, lightly beaten
  • 350ml (12 fl oz) buttermilk
Preheat the oven to 4250, with a baking stone if you have one.

Mix the dry ingredients in a large bowl. Mix well by lifting everything with your hands repeatedly to aerate the flour.

Mix the egg and buttermilk in a small bowl. Pour half of them over the dry ingredients and use a spatula to gently cut them in. Pour the rest of the milk mixture over the dough bit by bit, cutting it in - be sure not to overmix or add to much liquid.

The dough will be very thick and sticky and have lumps of unincorporated flour. Pat the dough into a rough ball and then drop it on a cookie sheet or pizza paddle. Flatten the ball a little into a loaf, and then cut in a deep X.

Cook on the sheet or stone at 4250 for 10 minutes, then lower the heat to 4000 and cook for 35 minutes more. The finished bread will look golden and sound hollow when tapped on the bottom.

This recipe is a basic summary of instructions - my older post on Irish Brown Bread gives helpful tips which I didn't want to repeat here. Also, if you haven't tried this bread - you're missing out. But that's not the topic for today...

This rich, buttery, crunchy bread is a nice contemporary twist on a great traditional Irish bread. Happy St. Patrick's Day!!

Monday, March 9, 2009

Homemade Butternut Squash Ravioli

Pleased by the positive results with my sourdough bread, tonight I thought I'd build on my knowledge of dealing with dry flour in Colorado and tackle something I've had a lot of trouble with of late - homemade pasta.

A little background info on tonight's meal: believe it or not, we still have winter squash left from our fall CSA. I can't bring myself to eat any more squash soup or roasted squash. I guess I need to put in a little more thought as to what to do with the last few. Then I remembered ... why hadn't I thought of this before? I LOVE butternut squash ravioli, and I've never tried to make it. The butternut squash are long gone, but acorn squash will probably taste almost as good.

I started looking for a recipe. NONE of my many cookbooks has a recipe for butternut squash ravioli, not even any of my five trusty Jamie Oliver books (Ok, I like him, but not that much - two of them were gifts). Next I looked online. Sure enough, I found a pretty good recipe on epicurious. If you haven't used epicurious before, I'd highly recommend it. I've had pretty good luck with most of the recipes I've tried.

So now I've got a plan for the filling, which brings us back to the problem of the pasta. I got a pasta maker about 6 years ago. For the first few years, I used it quite a bit, as you do, and I could do no wrong. It must have been beginner's luck. After a while, my pasta started getting worse and worse - tough, chewy (not in a pleasant way) and dry. I've tried a few different recipes, but always with the same result.

I've already learned some this weekend about holding back flour while paying attention to a recipe's instructions for how the dough should feel. I thought I'd try to apply this idea to pasta, going back to the first recipe I ever tried, from Jamie Oliver's The Naked Chef. I'll write more on him another time, as he deserves an entire entry. But here is the short version of the recipe.

  • 1 lb bread flour (3 1/2 to 4 c)
  • 5 fresh, large eggs (preferably organic)
  • semolina flour for dusting
Pile the flour on a smooth surface and make a well in it. Crack the eggs into the well. Use a fork to mix the eggs together, slowly drawing in more and more of the flour until it forms a dough. Once it is incorporated, knead until the dough is smooth and elastic.

Let dough rest in the fridge 1 hour.

Divide the dough into 4 balls, then use a pasta maker or rolling pin to roll each ball into a sheet. From there cut it or shape it as you want.

I decided to hold back about 25% of the flour. After that I paid close attention to adding only enough flour to keep the dough from getting sticky as I kneaded it.
Success! When I rolled it out in the pasta maker, the dough felt soft, tender and elastic, not tough as it has in my last attempts. In the end, I kept back about 1/3 of the suggested flour amount.

Here is a VERY important tip for those of you that are still with me... after rolling out each sheet, you need somewhere to put it. Jamie always shows beautiful sheets hanging on the backs of chairs in his books, but don't try this unless you want to eat one giant chair shaped noodle. It is way too dry in Colorado - the pasta dries in position almost immediately. Instead I lay the pasta flat in sheets covered in (very wrung out) damp dish towels. Here is the important part, dust flour very generously between each sheet, including under the bottom one. Otherwise, they stick together, which is a nightmare if you're trying to make ravioli, as you don't want any holes. Semolina is the best flour for dusting, by the way, as it is course, almost like sand, and doesn't get absorbed by the pasta.

Now on to the filling. I pretty much followed the filling part of the recipe exactly, except for using the acorn squash. I also followed a few of the review suggestions and subbed fresh sage and goat cheese, the delicious local Haystack Mountain Chevre.

I am really lazy when shaping the ravioli. I saw a Good Eats episode once where Alton measured each ravioli to perfection using a ruler. Where is the fun in that? Mine are much more "artistic."

Ok, instructions: lay out one sheet of pasta and then put scoops of ravioli down about 1 to 1 1/2 inches apart. How big should the scoops be? Use your best judgement. Put the line of scoops slightly off the center line. Flatten each scoop so that the top layer of pasta doesn't have to stretch far to touch the bottom layer. Then gently brush water on the pasta around each scoop.

Finally, fold the other half of the sheet over the tops of the scoops. You want to do this slowly, cupping your hand around the back of each scoop then rolling the cup of your hand over the scoop to the other side. You're trying to force out any air bubbles before making the final outer connection between the layers, as air will expand during cooking and possibly pop the pasta open. I wish I'd taken a picture of this step, but I was in a little bit of a panic due to the aforementioned sticky sheet hole problem. Cut between each covered scoop into individual raviolis.

Oh yea, put a big pot of water on to boil about ten minutes ago. Once boiling, lower the heat to a bare simmer.

To cook the pasta, gently place about 7 or 8 raviolis into the water at a time. Don't let the water come back to a boil or it will break up the raviolis. I cooked them until al dente, about 4 minutes. Drain the water from the raviolis gently, then immediately coat them in either olive oil or whatever sauce you're making.

Which brings us to the sauce. I was really lazy with the sauce... basically I threw a few tablespoons of butter in a saute pan on medium low heat with a handful each of walnuts and fresh sage leaves and a pinch of salt. I let it cook gently for about 5 minutes, tossing occasionally, until the butter, the nuts and the sage were all browned and toasty. Then pour over the ravioli.


Saturday, March 7, 2009

Colorado Sourdough from Scratch

Today was attempt #2 at using my sourdough starter to actually make bread. As much as I love tending to it and seeing it grow, I'm not looking for a new pet - it's time to put it to use.

As I mentioned in my last post, I was trying that very day to make my first ever sourdough bread. Many, many hours later, my "boules" were about as risen and tender as slightly misshapen softballs. Yumm. I decided not to waste the electricity to bake them - there was no hope.

What went wrong?

The recipe I used was suggested as the easiest one to start with for new sourdough bakers in the King Arthur book -

Pain Au Levain with Whole Wheat.

  • 1 c. (9 oz) ripe whole wheat levain - yes, I have that finally!!
  • 1-2/3 c. (6-5/8 oz) whole wheat flour
  • 2-2/3 c. (11-1/4 oz) unbleached bread flour
  • 1-1/2 c. (12-oz) cool water
  • 1 Tbs honey
  • 2 tsp salt
I am not going to recount all of the steps in detail here as the recipe is actually FIVE pages long with a few extra sidebars on other pages. If anyone is interested, let me know, and I can provide more detail.

Actually the recipe wasn't hard - easy steps with short risings in between, followed by one long rising. So I was surprised that my dough was so leaden.

After thinking back on each step in the process, I had an idea for what the problem might be. This recipe is a little unlike other yeast recipes I've used in that it suggests that you add all of the flour and water to your rising agent in the first step, stir it slowly and then let it sit for 20 minutes. This step is called an autolyse and is apparently quite important.

Heartland Mill, supplier of organic grain products, says, "This pre-hydration allows for better links between gluten and starches and results in shorter mix times and improved dough extensibility. Loaves made with autolysed dough will be easier to shape and will have more volume and better crumb structure."

In other recipes I've used, which don't happen to have this step, when the flour is added to the liquid, you only start with about two thirds of it. The remaining flour is added during the kneading process so that you can judge whether or not it is necessary.

Well, being a bit baffled by the autolyse step, I thought I'd better just follow the instructions and added all of the flour.

And this, I think, was the problem. Colorado is extremely dry, which makes the flour here extremely dry. The drier your flour, the more liquid it will need. When making bread, your liquid amount is predetermined, so all you can do to get the right balance is use less flour. When I make yeast bread, I typically add about 1/2 to 1 c. less flour than suggested for a two loaf recipe.

Rather than pay attention to this previously observed pattern, I just dumped in all of the flour. As soon as I began the first kneading step, I sensed a problem.

Whole wheat bread dough is extremely wet and sticky to knead, which is quite different than white bread dough. After a good kneading period and the right amount of flour, a white bread dough will feel smooth, warm and elastic - maybe a little tacky, but definitely not sticky. Whole wheat dough will feel elastic, but it will be much more sticky. If you add enough flour to whole wheat dough to make it smooth, the dough will be so heavy that the yeast won't be strong enough to make it rise.

And that was my problem... my dough felt exactly like white bread dough.

So today I started over, which brings us to the present...

Man, this bread takes a long time to make. I am not kidding, here are (roughly) the steps:
  • Mix the starter, water and flour slowly.
  • Let rest for 20 minutes
  • Add salt and honey, knead for a few minutes
  • Let rise for 45 minutes
  • Put dough on floured surface, spread into a rectangle, fold up like a letter, twice, put back in bowl.
  • Let rise for 45 minutes
  • Repeat folding step
  • Rise for, surprise, surprise, 45 minutes
  • Turn onto surface, divide in two, draw up edges and pinch together
  • Let rest for 20 minutes
  • Shape into boules (long, long explanation here which I don't really understand, basically I ... shaped them into taught rounds)
  • Put into bowls or baskets lined with heavily (didn't do it heavily enough!) floured, smooth tea towels and cover
  • Let rise for 2 to 2-1/2 hours
  • During rise, preheat oven to 4500 for half hour with baking stone on middle rack and iron skillet on bottom rack
  • Bake loaves on stone for 10 minutes at 4500, then 20-30 minutes at 4250. When putting loaves in the oven, put 1/2 c. water into iron skillet to create steam, which makes the crust crispy.
The only modification I made was to hold back about 3 oz of the bread flour from the first step. As it turns out, I never needed to add it back. The dough seemed to fit the description pretty well from thereon out.

How did it turn out? ... It was everything I hoped for: chewy, tender, crusty, and with the extra flavor of a whole wheat loaf.

So ... living in a town with great artisan bread available, was it worth it all the effort? It tasted quite similar to expensive breads I've bought. The one extra characteristic I noticed was that it tasted fresher. I don't know why, given that any bakery bread I'd buy around here would have been baked that morning, but my husband and I both agreed that it definitely tasted fresher. And it's pretty cool that I made the whole thing using flour, water, honey and salt.

Notice that in the picture, the loaf is half eaten. That picture was taken about 3 minutes after we cut into the first loaf. That might give you an idea of how it tasted. So at this point, I'm thinking I'll keep my little pet around for awhile.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Yeast Gone WILD!!!!!

And now for my next baking adventure. I've introduced brown bread - a simple soda leavened bread. I've had a first attempt at using sprouted wheat (haven't tried sprouted wheat bagels yet, still on the list).

These aren't quite doing it for me... I really have a craving for a nice, chewy crusty loaf.

Through all the research and experimentation I've done (OK, I admit - not that much, but I have read my two baking cookbooks and I have really good reading comprehension) , I've come to realize that this is not such an easy thing to come by. Soft, tender, yeast leavened sandwich bread is pretty easy to make at home, and it generally only takes a few hours. But this wasn't what I wanted. The more recipes I read, the more I realized that the crusty, chewy texture of French, sourdough, and other types of artisan bread comes from growing a starter for a minimum of one night, and often more.

After browsing a few choices, I decided to attempt a sourdough starter completely from scratch - no yeast, nothing except water and whole wheat flour. I've heard that sourdough starters can be extremely finicky and difficult to make, but what's the worst that can happen... I'll throw a bunch of flour away? Thank goodness for Boulder's Curbside Compost Pickup - that helps alleviate the guilt!

I chose a method from King Arthur's Whole Grain Baking. The basic steps are as follows:

  • Combine 1 c. (4 oz) whole wheat flour and 1/2 c. (4 oz) cool water. Cover and leave at room temperature.
  • The next day and the day after, feed the mixture by discarding half of the mixture and mixing in the same amount of flour and water. Cover and let sit. By the third day, the mixture should show signs of expansion and smell fruity.
  • Every day thereafter, the mixture needs to be fed every 12 hours with the same amount of flour and water.
  • After the 5th day, the mixture can be used as a starter.
What does all of this mean? It sounds so mysterious. Why do I have to wait for 5 days if the mixture starts to expand after two? Well, I found lots of conflicting information, but the explanation that seems to make the most sense to me is a great explanation I found from Mike of Sourdough Home.

Basically, whole grain flour is loaded with lots of different yeast and bacteria. Through regular feedings, the two that you are interested in - yeast and lactobacillus bacteria will eventually thrive and kill of all of the rest. This takes about a week. If you aren't regular with your feedings, your starter will either stop growing or start growing other things you don't want, like mold. He recommends that you use a starter when it is at least a week old and doubling in size every 12 hours.

By the way, you discard half the mixture at every feeding unless you want an exponentially growing starter (doubling every 12 hours and doubling the amount of flour needed to keep it from starving). I like bread, but I'm not planning on making that much.

So how did mine go?

The initial mixture was a very thick, dry paste. I was skeptical. See picture on the right...

The next day, I didn't see any sign of activity, but it did smell distinctively yeasty. That seemed positive. I fed as instructed.

By the third day, it was growing like crazy. It looked bubbly and smelled fruity, just as described.

I faithfully fed it every 12 hours (or so!) and by the sixth day it was still going strong and I was dying to use it. To the right are pictures of my growing blob after this morning's feeding and this afternoon when I got home from work. You can see why I call it a blob - I could have nightmares about this.

So it seems that in Colorado it is not so hard to get a sourdough culture started... I would have liked to have said that my next post would be about the great bread I made with it, but I'm afraid this will take a little more practice. I attempted my first bread tonight and after about 2 hours of rising, the dough hasn't risen at all.

Well, I'll have another blob of excess starter ready in the morning for attempt #2. If it doesn't get me first ...

Monday, February 23, 2009

Toothy Sprouted Wheat Bread

I am a bread lover. I pretty much love every kind of bread except for cheap, mass produced bread. I toggle between various favorites: Irish brown bread, meaty, tender French bread (it's not whole grain, but is irresistible), crusty, tangy, whole grain sourdough, sweet, multi-grain, seeded, artisan breads. We're pretty lucky actually, the selection of breads in Boulder is amazing. Udi's, BreadWorks, Whole Foods. Yet somehow I'm still always looking for the perfect loaf to make myself.


I don't even know exactly what I want. Actually, I guess I want it all. A thick, crunchy crust. A soft, chewy (what I call meaty) interior. The extra bite and nutrition of whole grain. Sometimes I like the tangy taste of sourdough, sometimes I want something milder.

Taking the whole grain idea to the extreme are the makers of sprouted wheat baked goods. And as I said in my last post, I LOVE sprouted wheat bagels and want to try to make them. Given that I had never worked with sprouted wheat before (or made bagels, for that matter), I thought I should start with an easy bread recipe.

Sandwich breads, which don't require an overnight starter, seem to be one of the easier yeast-leavened breads to make at home, and as all of the sprouted wheat bread recipes I found were of this variety, I thought this was a good place to start.

I had a few recipes to choose, from two different cookbooks: King Arthur's Whole Grain Baking and Bernard Clayton's New Complete Book of Breads. I chose the recipe from the latter because the King Arthur's recipes had a larger set of ingredients - I thought the simpler the better. I also liked the Book of Breads' recipe because it uses 100% whole wheat flour. I don't often find completely whole grain recipes, so I was eager to try it.

I sprouted the grains for a total of three days - the recipe recommended 3-4, stopping when the sprout was the same length as the berry. I was a little confused as to how to decide this. From almost the first day, there was a very thin sprout (or two) emerging from the berry. By the third day, this sprout was longer than the berry on almost all berries. I also noticed that there was a thicker sprout coming out of some of the berries, which wasn't nearly as long as the berry yet. I wondered whether this wasn't actually the sprout that the recipe meant. I decided to ignore this and just use them after three days.

The recipe I used was a simple recipe consisting of mixing regular yeast with warm water, honey, brewer's yeast, oil and whole wheat flour. After letting this mixture double in size, the sprouts and the remainder of the flour are added and kneaded until the dough is smooth, stretchy and slightly sticky (as apparently whole wheat breads always remain stickier than white bread).

One thing I always find tricky about making bread is that I can never decide exactly when the dough has doubled in size (it'd be so much easier in a cylindrical bowl). I once took a cooking class in which they recommended that you are careful never to let bread risings go too long, as this can make the the air bubbles in the cooked bread irregular. Apparently this is especially a problem in Colorado because bread rises faster than at lower altitudes. Anyway, I thought that I had erred on the side of punching it down too early, but the texture ended up being fine.

I would say that the final product was a bit of a disappointment, but this could be because I'm expecting everything from one loaf...

The crust was pretty good for a sandwich loaf, and the whole grains added a nice flavor. The crumb (or texture of the air bubbles) was regular and soft.

I think I was disappointed for a few reasons. First, I guess I just don't like sandwich bread that much. It was crumbly and a bit dry after just a day or two, which often happens with homemade, obviously preservative free, bread. The more serious problem though was the star of the show - the sprouts. They were a tooth killer. I don't know if I should have waited for the thicker sprout to grow longer or what I could have done differently, but these sprouts were not right. Some of them were so hard they could have taken out a tooth.

Interestingly, both King Arthur's recipes called for grinding the sprouted berries in a food processor with some water and adding these at the beginning of the recipe rather than adding whole berries later in the process. I did a little more poking around, and it looks like most recipes call for grinding the sprouted berries. And my worry about the berries being hard because of not having sprouted long enough seems to be unfounded - all of the images I found show that my sprouts had grown enough, if not too much.

All in all, I'm still intrigued by the prospect of making sprouted wheat bagels, but I think I need to do a little more experimentation with sprouted wheat itself before I can hope to achieve the Alvarado pinnacle.

Incidentally, Alvarado Street has an FAQ in which they discuss the ingredients in their baked goods. Basically they sprout berries in water, drain and and grind them, adding fresh yeast, salt and honey or some other sweet ingredient. That sounds pretty simple, but almost too simple. I may have to try experimenting with this method next, although I have a feeling it will take a lot of attempts to go completely recipe free with success.


Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Sprouting Wheat Berries

I realized in rereading my posts that I've been exploring mostly animal products - dairy, meat and eggs. Ironically, these aren't that large a part of my diet - I've just been on a recent kick of using up milk and finding pastured eggs.

My diet consists much more of vegetables and grains than animal products, so I thought I should start a new project related to one of these...

One of the few processed, non-local foods I buy is Alvarado St Bakery Sprouted Wheat Bagels. Why do I buy non-local bagels? Because they are TO DIE FOR. Soooo sooo good. They are hands down the best bagels I've ever eaten, and I want to learn how to make them.

Double challenge! I've never cooked sprouted wheat anything, and I have no idea how to make bagels.

I decided to divide and conquer, by making something with sprouted wheat before trying the bagels. I settled on a recipe for sprouted wheat sandwich bread in "Bernard Clayton's New Complete Book of Breads".

First I obviously have to sprout the wheat, which takes 4-5 days.



Here is my setup. Fill a jar with warm water and 1/4 c. wheat berries. Cover the jar with cheesecloth and a rubber band (or in my case, an old t-shirt poked with a few holes). Drain out the water, lay the jar on it's side in a dark, warm place. Add and drain new warm water twice a day, saving the water to use later on the bread. They are finished when the sprouts are as long as the original seed.


And after one day, my seeds are starting to sprout! Cool. I don't know if I should be this excited - Something in me is wondering if I feel deprived from never having done the seed in a cup science project as a 7 year old.
I don't have a sprout cam, but I will post a few pictures as my little buddies progress.

The Big Decision (Eggs Part 3)

Armed with the knowledge of how my egg laying hen should live and eat (see Eggs Parts 1 and 2), I now have to use this knowledge to make the healthiest and most ethical choice possible in purchasing eggs.

I had already decided that I would like to eat eggs from free range hens with a varied and natural diet, as opposed to commercial feed consisting of mostly corn, soy, animal by-products and vitamin and mineral supplements.

It seems I have two choices: the convenience of the super market paired with the compromise of an industrial product, or the inconvenience of finding something local paired with a more natural living standard.

First, the supermarket options. As you might guess, I generally opt for Whole Foods or something similar. There is a small local shop near me that carries a mix of organic and non-organic foods. Both carry a few different varieties of eggs, free-range, cage-free, etc.

After examining my options, of which there were may, I settled on the brand Cyd's Nest Fresh Organic Eggs. First, they're produced in Broomfield, Colorado, which is local. Second, they follow the Certified Humane standard, which I discussed in an earlier post. And third, their feed is 100% natural and organic. The free-roaming dozen is about $4.99.

I wanted to dig a little deeper and was able to find a wealth of information on their website, a good sign.

The hens' diet is 100% vegetarian, consisting primarily of corn, soybeans, limestone, alfalfa, vitamins and minerals. This diet is really not as diverse as I would like to see. As a fellow omnivore, I certainly couldn't survive on a diet of one grain, one grass, one legume and some supplements (actually, that's not really true - for many people, this is almost their exact diet, minus the alfalfa, as shown in Michael Pollan's "The Omnivore's Dilemma").

According to the certified humane standards, the animals have enough room to perform natural behaviors such as perching, stretching and dust-bathing. What I'm sure they don't have is enough access to the outdoors to forage for insects and grass. And as I mentioned in the earlier post, these standards allow for a small amount of beak trimming to "avoid heavy feather pecking and cannibalism." I'm really not sure what to think about this practice or the environment that would induce the hens to act in this manner.

Having discussed my reservations, I still think this company adheres to a higher standard than most others. I don't think I can expect to get anything closer to the way nature intended in a supermarket... after all, Cyd's has to make a profit.

What about the other option, local, pastured eggs?

It turns out that these aren't that easy to find.

Last summer at the Boulder Farmer's Market (opens in 45 days, yay!), I asked the only poultry/egg stand, Wisdom's Natural Poultry. Their feed and practices, as discussed with me then and also explained on their website, seem identical to Cyd's, although it is nice to get to talk to a person about it rather than just reading a website. Hmm, that's not quite what I was looking for and definitely less convenient than Whole Foods.

Then about a month ago, I was out with a friend talking about this topic, and she mentioned that there is a small farm near me that sells completely free range eggs, Jay Hill Farm. I looked on their website, and sure enough, this is a tiny farm that sells local produce and free-range eggs. They don't have a lot of info on the chickens, except that their blog mentions a few times that they let the chickens out at 6:30 am.

I was a little confused by the purchasing process - you order online the night before and go pick up the eggs in a fridge down a driveway? I thought I'd better call. Well, I was thrilled, I got to talk to the farmer, Rowan, in person, and found out that they even sell green-house grown veggies all winter long. I couldn't believe it. I was so excited, that I forgot to ask about what the chickens eat and how much space they have outside for foraging. I've sent her an email though - I'll give an update when I hear back.

I placed an order online, and the next day I picked up my eggs and veggies from the fridge, money left in a Tupperware in the fridge. There were a lot of positives to this - very local, small scale, free-range, no waste (just return the carton next time), winter veggies, and 50c cheaper than Cyd's at the supermarket. The only downsides are that I keep forgetting to place my second order, and it is a few miles out of the way on my drive home, which is less convenient for the supermarket.

Actually, as I scoured the Internet, I was surprised to find many small farms like this with similar arrangements (call the night before, pick up eggs in the fridge). It seems that if you search, you really can find pastured eggs.

This still doesn't answer the final question... are the eggs really any different? Do they taste or cook differently? Stay tuned next time when I'll feature my first guest chef - my husband. Ok, so he's not really a guest, but his eggs earn him the title of egg chef in any house.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Homemade Ice Cream

So maybe I've been a little too Gung Ho about this blog. The three people reading it may have noticed that I skipped last night because, if you've been paying attention, you'll notice I update every other day, except last night I didn't. My last entry was three days ago, and that one wasn't even particularly noteworthy. I pride myself on verbose, boring, painfully accurate entries, and in the last one I just bitched about Thin Mints. Anyway, the effort required to maintain my normally high standard of quality is taking its toll. This weekend, I felt burnt out. I couldn't think of what to write about, so I skipped.

But I was in the kitchen. Well, actually, first I was on the phone with my sister (writer, pie-crust maker):

"Saw the Thin Mints post. It was good."

"What do you mean? It was really short and I just complained about Thin Mints. I didn't even do a proper analysis of the dangers of partially hydrogenated fat."

"Yea, too bad about that. It was funny. All the others are too long."

"Are they boring?"

"The chicken ones are."

"Oh. Really? I find that topic fascinating." Quick side note, I found a neighbor around the block that keeps 8 chickens in his yard. I've been making detours when I take my son on wagon rides so that we can watch them. They're really weird animals. Seeing them alive, I am not quite sure I'm comfortable with the idea of eating them. Ok, focus...

"What are you going to do next?"

"I was thinking of making profiteroles."

"Why? That is totally off-topic."

"Huh? No, my blog is about buying and making non-processed, natural, local food. This is an attempt at making a challenging dessert that you'd normally buy. Besides I want to try it." About a year ago, I became obsessed with making profiteroles. I hunted all over town for a large, non-plasticy pastry bag and the right size tip. By the time I found it, I was so bored with the whole project that I forgot about them. Ok, back to the conversation.

"Are you going to make your own ice cream?"

"Uh.... definitely."

"How? Did you get an ice cream maker?"

"No, why would I need one? I was just going to stir it myself in a bowl of ice"

"Please, please tell me you're kidding"

Ok, here is where I have an interesting entry about how I attempted to make ice cream the old school way, with 2 bowls, some ice and a spoon. My sister convinced me that I was crazy to try it without some equipment. So I thought, well I'd better acquire more equipment to postpone the fictional profiterole project, and I went hunting for an ice cream maker.

As luck would have it, KitchenAid makes an attachment for their mixers. Sweet! I definitely had to have it.

I realize that this seems in contradiction with my attempts to be non-consumerist, buy local, etc. I do definitely try to keep my material purchases to a minimum. Except I have a little bit of an issue with kitchen equipment. There are certain completely useless things I'll never buy (e.g. a garlic press - I'm a purist, I mince it with the side of a knife), but an insulated ice cream bowl and paddle for my KitchenAid mixer was just too tempting.

And holy cow is homemade ice cream good. The first night I made vanilla (with a drop of brandy), and the second night I made chocolate.

I probably shouldn't plagiarize the recipe I used (from Alice Water's The Art of Simple Food), but here is a link to a similar recipe. Hers has about two more egg yolks, but is otherwise pretty much the same.

I was completely amazed, once I started processing it in the bowl, it only took about 15 minutes to thicken.

I will say that, given how much ice cream I eat, seeing how much sugar and cream go into it is a little depressing. All these years, I'd been using selective hearing to ignore the "cream" part of ice cream.

Anyway, it was delicious, although perhaps a bit heavy. My husband accidentally bought a bunch of table cream for the first batch, which wasn't called for in the recipe. I may try making some ice cream with that instead of the heavy whipping cream. I'm sure it'll turn out less creamy, but it might be a bit lighter.


A few final thoughts on making homemade ice cream. Apart from the equipment purchase, it is definitely worth the effort.

First, it really wasn't much work at all. I made the custard style, which means you slowly cook the egg yolks, sugar and half and half together. Of the two common varieties (the other is just cream, sugar and milk mixed together), this is the harder one, and it still only took about 20 minutes to make the mixture.

I took the first batch I made to a friend's for dinner. She decided to have a taste test and compare it to two local ice cream brands she had on hand. My ice cream was richer and much, much smoother. The egg yolks are what add the richness - flavor you definitely can't get from store-bought, although I don't think I will always be in the mood for something so rich, so I plan to try the other style as well.

The only downside is that I now have six egg whites waiting to be dealt with (3 per batch). Any suggestions?

Friday, February 6, 2009

Crunchy Brown Rice Pudding

I've decided to take a short break from my chicken and egg series. I'm sure this will be disappointing to my huge reader base (Hi Nicole, Hi Jen). Ok, it probably isn't huge, but I think it was bigger before my chicken habitat post. My husband was actually not able to finish it. I am mystified that he didn't find riveting my discussion of caged vs. cage-free vs. free-range hens.


Anyway...

I have a 19 month old baby. In general, babies drink a lot of milk. This baby drank a huge amount of milk until about 3 weeks ago. As you might guess, I took great pains in making a milk choice for him. I'm not completely resolved in my decision (there will, of course, be an entry about milk and cows sometime), but for now, we get milk delivered weekly from the Longmont Dairy. It's local, it's fresh, and it comes in glass bottles, so there isn't any waste.

For a while, I thought this was great, until I realized, what do you do if you don't use all the milk? Normal grocery-store-milk-buying-folk would only buy what they need and go to the store again mid-week if they needed more. But when you have it delivered, you really need to predict what you'll need.

So about three weeks ago, my son went on a milk strike. Now one would think that I would simply call the dairy and have the milk stopped. That's what an organized person would do. Unfortunately all my organization gets used up at work, which is why I keep forgetting to call. Three weeks later, our fridge has 4 gallons of untouched milk. I pumped breastmilk for my son for eight long months. Every time I open the fridge, I remember that and think about the work those cows put into those 4 gallons of milk. I just can't bring myself to throw it away.

So what can you make with a whole cowload of milk?

Earlier today, I started making yoghurt. It's growing as we speak. I'll update tomorrow on the deliciousness and nutritiousness of my homemade yoghurt.

Then I had another brilliant idea... rice pudding. My son loves rice, and he loves dessert! I'll get milk in him yet, by making him rice pudding.

Using my trusty Ballymaloe Cookery Course cookbook, I got started.

Now this is a pretty simple recipe, which I will paraphrase. Put 2 oz short grain white rice, 1 oz sugar and a knob of butter into a pie pan. Pour over 1 pint of boiling milk. Bake at 350 for 1 to 1.5 hours until the skin on top is golden and the rice underneath is cooked and creamy.

The only white rice I had was arborio rice for risotto. What the heck, I'll see if I can make it with brown rice and just cook it longer. That'll give it the added bonus of being secretly whole grain. Surely an hour and a half is long enough to cook brown rice. I know white rice only takes 10 minutes as compared to 45 for brown rice, but I bet the extra time in this recipe is just to make the milk thicken up and isn't actually needed to cook the rice. In the back of my mind, I heard the haunting advice my sister (of the successful piecrust) has given me many times, "Don't make substitutions to a recipe until you've tried it at least once."

Using a scale to measure out the rice, I realized that 2 oz of rice is a tiny amount, about half a cup. This couldn't be right. Brown rice normally cooks with a slightly greater than 2 to 1 water to rice ratio. Surely 4 to 1 would make rice/milk soup. So as I measured out the rice, I threw in an extra handful, or maybe two. Probably about 3/4 cup rice in all.

I popped it in the oven. An hour later, I looked in - very nice. Golden layer on top, carmel, bread-like smell. I thought I'd better check the rice's progress. To say that it was crunchy was an understatement. You couldn't actually tell that it had started cooking. Is the boiling point of milk lower than water? That possibility hadn't occurred to me. It's too late to turn back now. Just keep cooking it.

An hour later, the layer on top is no longer "golden." More like burnt umber - I don't actually know what color that is, but the burnt part sounds accurate. Uh oh, the milk is completely gone. And the rice is definitely not cooked yet. Maybe I should have used the recommended quantities.

I added quite a bit more milk (I have some to spare), kept cooking and checking.

After 3 hours, I finally decided to throw in the towel. The pudding had cooked so long that the rice on top had dried out and gone crunchy. Or was that the dark, dark brown milk crunching - I couldn't quite tell. The rice underneath was pretty much cooked - albeit al dente style.

I pulled it out with just enough time to give one hastily blown-cool bite to the intended baby recipient before putting him to bed. Thumbs down - bummer.

At least I made a dent in the milk. Even better news, as I was looking for the recipe to reference for this post, I found a recipe for homemade butter. I'm Definitely going to try that. Unfortunately it uses cream instead of milk. Hmm, now I just need a recipe for making cream from milk.

Monday, February 2, 2009

Easy as Pie?

Mmmmm, pie. I love pie. I am one of those people that craves dessert, pretty much all the time. I usually count down the hours in the day until I have an excuse to eat some sort of dessert. I can't do it too early, or the craving will resurface before I go to bed, which means I'll want another dessert. I have a love/hate relationship with desserts. I love to eat them, but I hate to gain weight, so it's a thin line I walk between the two.

When I think about the desserts I crave the most, the ones the rank the highest are sweet and fatty ... rich chocolate cake, pain au chocolate (dessert disguised as breakfast), and pie. Every kind of pie

Unfortunately, the reality is that most pie lets me down. As I picture the pie I'm going to eat, I think about biting into a buttery, tender, flaky, slightly sweet pastry. But most restaurants and stores don't sell pie this good, at least the crust doesn't measure up. This is when most people turn to their own kitchen, after all what sounds better than homemade pie

Actually, most pie tastes better than mine. I'm not an amazing cook or anything, but most of the time when I bother to bake something at home, it's better than what you can buy out. Perfect example ... chocolate chip cookies (Nestle tollhouse back of the bag recipe). They are delicious, and well, as easy as ... pie. Is that an expression? Because I don't get it. Pie is NOT easy

My pie sucks. Specifically, my pie crust is terrible. I've tried every recipe I can find. I've listened to all kinds of advice.

For a long time, I stuck with the Joy of Cooking's method. After all, six pages of 8 point font (no pictures) explaining how to make pie crust in painstaking detail. Surely if I follow their directions exactly, I can make "A light, flaky crust that shatters at the touch of a fork."1 That sounds perfect.

Making pie crust seems to be this infuriating contradiction of mix, but don't mix too much. Add ice cold water to a crumbly mix of butter and flour, but don't add too much or you'll make it tough.

I thought I'd try their food processor recipe, which they swear by, to quickly zap all the ingredients without melting them by using my hands.

Strangely, every time I make it, I seem to need almost twice as much water as the recipe says. As mentioned, adding too much water is a big no-no, so I'm always afraid to add more. But when I go to roll the dough out (after carefully refrigerating for an hour, of course), it's basically a big pile of flour and butter. I get it rolled out into a beautiful circle, then the minute I pick it up, it falls apart into, well the big file of flour and butter that it is. This is usually followed by profanity and then tears.

Next, I borrowed The Perfect Pie from my sister, who makes great pie. An entire cookbook completely devoted to pie.

This recipe definitely sounded more promising. Instead of being just flour, butter, salt and water, it had more ingredients. "The egg yolk contains natural lecithin, which helps make the dough easy to handle, and the lemon juice or vinegar slows development of the gluten to ensure a tender crust."2 My other crust (pile of crumbs) was definitely tender, but not at all easy to handle. This sounded better.

Although, I will say that this recipe calls for shortening (Crisco), definitely Not Real Food (NRF). I'll use butter instead.

Same results. Big pile of crumbs. Infuriating. My sister was there, she says I definitely need to add more water, whether it seems like too much or not.

Ok, finally, I thought I'd try my favorite, infallible The Art of Simple Food3 by Alice Waters. She can do no wrong, so definitely her pie crust will be great. It was back to the same basic ingredients as the Joy of Cooking, but she says to just mix it up with a fork.

Alright, I'll add enough water for it to stick, mix it gently with a fork, and voila, perfect, tender crust.

I first cut the butter and salt into the flour, until it resembled peas, just as instructed. I made sure my water was ice cold, then gently stirred it in until the dough just started to clump. Then I compressed it into a ball which I refrigerated for an hour.

As I rolled it out between two sheets of parchment paper, it definitely seemed more dough-like. I had a little flash of doubt when I noticed that there were patches of dough that seemed a little wet and sticky, but they passed when I was happily able to lift the dough into the pan without it falling apart. That was a first for me.



This particular pie was pumpkin, my last pumpkin of the season. I prebaked the shell, then put in the filling. When the pie came out, you might say it looked a little rustic. I couldn't wait for it to cool, mmm.

Alas, this story does not have a happy ending. This pie crust ranks down there as one of the worst I've ever made, not an easy feat. The crust was so hard, that when I tried to cut the first bite with the edge of my fork, I had to press so hard that the pie flipped off the plate face down onto my shirt. Note the whipped cream in the photo.

I've never been desperate enough to think this before ... maybe next time I'll see what Martha Stewart has to say.


1 Rombauer, Irma S., Rombauer Becker, Marion, and Becker, Ethan. The All New All Purpose Joy of Cooking (New York: Scribner, 1997)
2 Purdy, Susan G. The Perfect Pie: More than 125 All-Time Favorite Pies and Tarts (New York: Broadway Books, 2000)
3 Waters, Alice. The Art of Simple Food: Notes, Lessons and Recipes from a Delicious Revolution (New York: Clarkson Potter/Publishers, 2007)

Friday, January 30, 2009

Eating Beef Ethically

I've struggled for years with the decision of whether or not to eat meat. I first started questioning this when I lived in England about 15 years ago, which was when the BSE scandal broke in the news. I had no idea what cows were fed or what they were supposed to eat or what offal was. I decided, without much information, that maybe it was a good idea to eat less meat in general and eat no red meat.

Since then I really haven't eaten much meat, but I also have never quite managed to give it up. I don't think there is anything ethically wrong with eating meat, after all, we've evolved to eat it at least once in a while. But I wasn't comfortable with the idea of animals crammed into small cages or pens, living crappy lives and then being killed.

As the years went by, I couldn't come to a decision I could live with, so it just seemed easier to eat less and less meat.

Then I read Michael Pollan's book The Omnivore's Dilemma. This book follows the creation of four meals from their source to their ultimate destination, his dinner plate.

The first meal chronicled is a McDonald's Big Mac, Soda and Fries, which obviously contains cheap beef, butchered from cows raised in feedlots. The sad story of these cows is worse than I could have imagined.

There is the obvious fact that they are crammed into tiny lots, which is far different from the grazing, roaming lifestyle for which they have evolved.

Then there is the environmental impact. A tremendous amount of chemicals and fossil fuels are used in creating their feed; not a very good ROI for the amount of beef produced. And on the other end is their waste. There is so much of it in such a small space and it contains so many contaminants that it can't be used as fertilizer; it seems that it becomes almost like toxic waste.

You could talk yourself out of caring about those two things, I suppose, because they don't have a direct impact on you. But what they eat... now that does, because ultimately it goes into my body. So what do they eat? Well, it's not grass, that's for sure

  1. Type two corn - Why? "Cows fed corn, a compact source of caloric energy, get fat quickly .. Yet this corn-fed meat is demonstrably less healthy for us, since it contains more saturated fat and less omega-3 fatty acids than the meat of animals fed grass."1

  2. Antibiotics Rumensin and Tylosin - for two reasons. First, the close quarters in which the cows live causes higher rates of disease. Second, corn raises the acid level in a cows stomach, causing a painful disease called acidosis.

  3. Liquid vitamins (because the corn has no nutrients) and synthetic estrogen (to grow faster)

  4. Alfalfa hay and silage (for roughage)

  5. Liquefied fat - Anything from Beef tallow, feather meal and chicken litter, to chicken, fish and pig meal. Obviously cattle have evolved to be herbivores rather than carnivores, so this is a strange distortion of the food chain. BSE is a good example of what can happen when rendered animals are fed to each other.

  6. Protein supplement - molasses and urea. "Urea is a form of synthetic nitrogen made from natural gas, similar to fertilizer."1 Yum!

Suffice it to say, I was pretty grossed out after reading this book. I definitely do not want that stuff going into my body. I vowed from that time to never eat feedlot beef again, which so far I've stuck to for about a year.

But after reading this book, I was convinced that I could feel comfortable eating beef from cattle that are grow completely open range and fed nothing but grass. In Colorado this actually isn't so hard. There is a growing number of ranches and farms that sell 100% grass fed beef, commonly referred to as pastured beef. Note that grass fed beef is not the same as 100% grass fed beef, as even feedlot cattle live free range for the first few months of their life.

We've been ordering beef from a ranch out in eastern Colorado, Sun Prairie Beef. They deliver to the Denver area twice a year, at about seven designated pick-up sites. We get their smallest quantity: a 25 pound variety pack for $175. Because we only eat beef about once a week, this lasts us for six months until the next delivery.

Many people complain that pastured beef is dry and tough because it has much lower fat content. I'll say that since I haven't been eating beef prior to now, I don't have any basis for comparison, but we definitely like what we've been cooking. We do tend to only cook everything to medium rare - a common recommendation for pastured beef. I just don't worry about things like E-Coli because I don't see how a cow out on the range could pick it up.

There is a great website with lots of information about eating grass fed beef and other sustainable, all natural foods. It includes lists of sources by state for all over the US.

1 Pollan, Michael. The Omnivore's Dilemma: a natural history of four meals (New York: Penguin Group, 2006).