tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22856073051892358142024-03-19T16:05:32.681+13:00The GourmetteLiving life in the tasty laneUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2285607305189235814.post-57921906102355080692010-08-20T11:04:00.006+12:002010-08-20T12:17:57.918+12:00FinallyHi! I'm finally back! There's nothing like the day before your sixth move in less than 4 years to bring you back to food blogging after over a year's absence. Shouldn't I be packing right now? Pfft, I say. Pfft!<br /><br />First, just to catch you up on the past year:<br /><ol><li>We moved back to the U.S. from New Zealand (Los Angeles, if you must know.)</li><li>We had another baby boy. He's lovely and cuddly - what more could a gal ask for?</li><li>We're moving to Burbank tomorrow. Well, Saturday morning. But tomorrow sounds a lot more urgent, doesn't it?</li></ol>And now you're caught up! On to more important matters! Like this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZVXIKO-JFeBz5xpIEE6495Q8h5pPzbGfnoYhDRgKEHmL1Tlcfey7qoFkfF60fVkNy9NPAdkD6RDqC0GJyzNLtADk7MRfyugafyNG2Rd4ZFc3iNil_P2aHXoL8gFISZ5FfQKdkdULs4dZx/s1600/IMG_6713.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 600px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZVXIKO-JFeBz5xpIEE6495Q8h5pPzbGfnoYhDRgKEHmL1Tlcfey7qoFkfF60fVkNy9NPAdkD6RDqC0GJyzNLtADk7MRfyugafyNG2Rd4ZFc3iNil_P2aHXoL8gFISZ5FfQKdkdULs4dZx/s400/IMG_6713.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507275767264829058" border="0" /></a><br />Monkey bread! I didn't know that was the official name for it until adulthood. When I was a kid I used to go to Betty Damron's house every Sunday afternoon and play Scrabble and bake "petals." Turns out petals are monkey bread in little old lady terminology. However you call it, monkey bread is soft balls of dough surrounded by ooey, gooey caramel. It's the cinnamon roll's less fussy cousin. It's breakfast <span style="font-style: italic;">and</span> dessert. It's really hard to eat less than the entire thing in one sitting. Also, it doesn't keep well so you may as well eat it all in one sitting. And Deb at Smitten Kitchen made an especially delicious one with a cream cheese glaze. Oh, mercy!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqTXuVZ7wtO21n6eriAFp_ZxCkB_6gapo7LxqUeo3qOJ7Bs_2H77IIM15K1YNy_Zl5fhBZvfJsWbvzDV6yrk5CY8IOUXVg6AltRRI5qNw95Wwx3QaFXAGorY9MtA7U5IoMtzJXL_w4DjQ_/s1600/IMG_6707.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 601px; height: 402px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqTXuVZ7wtO21n6eriAFp_ZxCkB_6gapo7LxqUeo3qOJ7Bs_2H77IIM15K1YNy_Zl5fhBZvfJsWbvzDV6yrk5CY8IOUXVg6AltRRI5qNw95Wwx3QaFXAGorY9MtA7U5IoMtzJXL_w4DjQ_/s400/IMG_6707.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507276253646988034" border="0" /></a></div><br />I used her recipe this time and it's wonderful. I've also recently used a different recipe from the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Essence-Chocolate-Recipes-Baking-Cooking/dp/1401302386">Scharffen-Berger book</a> (which, incidentally, is a very good read) that involves chocolate. I think next time I would combine the two for a lightly chocolatey, cream cheesy bit of awesomeness. If you happen to beat me to it, please drop me a comment and let me know how it went!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Monkey Bread</span><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Adapted from <a href="http://smittenkitchen.com/">Smitten Kitchen<br /></a></div><p><u>Dough</u><br />4 tablespoons (1/2 stick or 2 ounces) unsalted butter, divided (2 tablespoons softened, 2 tablespoons melted)<br />1 cup milk, warm (around 110 degrees)<br />1/3 cup water, warm (also around 110 degrees)<br />1/4 cup granulated sugar<br />1 package or 2 1/4 teaspoons rapid rise, instant or bread machine yeast<br />3 1/4 cups all-purpose flour, plus extra for work surface<br />2 teaspoons table salt</p> <p><u>Brown Sugar Coating</u><br />11/2 cup packed light brown sugar<br />2 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon<br />8 tablespoons unsalted butter (1 stick or 4 ounces), melted<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">OR</span><br /><br /><u>Chocolate Coating Alternative</u><br />1/2 cup semisweet or bittersweet chocolate, roughly chopped<br />1/2 cup white sugar<br />1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon<br /><br /><u>Cream Cheese Glaze</u><br />3 ounces cream cheese, softened<br />3 tablespoons powdered sugar, plus extra if needed<br />2 tablespoons milk, plus extra if needed<br />1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract</p> <p><u>Get oven and pan ready:</u> Adjust oven rack to medium-low position and heat oven to 200°F. When oven reaches 200, turn it off. Butter Bundt or tube pan with 2 tablespoons softened butter. Set aside.</p> <p><u>Make dough:</u> In large measuring cup, mix together milk, water, melted butter, sugar, and yeast.</p> <p>To proceed with a stand mixer, mix flour and salt in standing mixer fitted with dough hook. Turn machine to low and slowly add milk mixture. After dough comes together, increase speed to medium and mix until dough is shiny and smooth, 6 to 7 minutes. (The dough should be sticky but if it is too wet to come together into anything cohesive, add an additional 2 tablespoons flour.) Turn dough onto lightly floured counter and knead briefly to form smooth, round ball.</p> <p>To proceed by hand, mix flour and salt in large bowl. Make well in flour, then add milk mixture to well. Using wooden spoon, stir until dough becomes shaggy and is difficult to stir. Turn out onto lightly floured work surface and begin to knead, incorporating shaggy scraps back into dough. Knead until dough is smooth and satiny, about 10 minutes. Shape into taut ball and proceed as directed.</p> <p>Coat large bowl with nonstick cooking spray or a tablespoon of neutral oil. Place dough in bowl and coat surface of dough with more cooking spray or oil. Cover bowl with plastic wrap and place in warm oven until dough doubles in size, 50 to 60 minutes.</p> <p><u>Make brown sugar coating:</u> Place melted butter in one bowl. Mix brown sugar and cinnamon in a second one. <span style="font-style: italic;">(If making chocolate coating, combine chocolate, sugar, and cinnamon in the bowl of a food processor and pulse until chocolate is reduced to fine crumbs.)</span><br /></p> <p><u>Form the bread:</u> Flip dough out onto floured surface and gently pat into an 8-inch square. Using a bench scraper or knife, cut dough into 64 pieces.<br /></p> <p>Roll each piece of dough into ball (don't spend more than 2 seconds on each piece or you'll be rolling forever). Working one at a time, dip balls in melted butter, allowing excess butter to drip back into bowl. (I found a fork to be helpful for this process.) Roll in brown sugar (or chocolate) mixture for a generous coating, then layer balls in Bundt pan, staggering seams where dough balls meet as you build layers. </p> <p>Cover Bundt pan tightly with plastic wrap and place in turned-off oven until dough balls are puffy and have risen 1 to 2 inches from top of pan, 50 to 70 minutes.</p> <p><u>Bake bread:</u> Remove pan from oven and heat oven to 350°F. Unwrap pan and bake until top is deep brown and caramel might begin to bubble around edges, 30 to 35 minutes. Cool in pan for 5 minutes (no longer, or you’ll have trouble getting it out) then turn out on platter and allow to cool slightly, about 10 minutes.</p> <p><u>Make glaze:</u> Beat cream cheese with powdered sugar until smooth and light. Add milk and vanilla. If consistency is still too thick, add more milk by the teaspoonfuls until you get something pourable but not runny. </p> <p>Drizzle the glaze over warm monkey bread, letting it run over top and sides of bread. Serve warm.</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2285607305189235814.post-981153117209670042009-09-01T13:28:00.005+12:002009-09-01T14:25:13.533+12:00Something for your CuisinartSo you got this fancy-schmancy food processor for your wedding from a wealthy uncle. Glowing with all the excitement of a newlywed you tear through the packaging, ripping through plastic sleeves and throwing large chunks of styrofoam asunder until you've freed that lovely piece of machinery. Cradling the pristine contraption on your lap, you even bother to read through the instructions cover to cover. Can all those recipes really be made with just one glorious machine? Why yes, the owner's manual tells you, they can.<br /><br />Fast forward to three years later: Your Cuisinart is sitting on a cabinet shelf by itself, gathering dust. You take it out occasionally when you have 5 pounds of cheese to shred or need to chop large quantities of food. Those owner's manual recipes remain unmade, mostly because you can't be bothered to lug that behemoth out of its resting place more than once a month; it's just too heavy and clunky and takes too much effort to clean. The only time you can justify using it is when you have to <span style="font-style: italic;">really<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span></span><span><span>use it. Well, dear reader, have I got a recipe for you to <span style="font-style: italic;">really</span> use your food processor!<br /><br /><center><img src="http://i730.photobucket.com/albums/ww306/gourmette/IMG_3299.jpg" width="100%" height="100%" /></center><br />Cabbage and chicken salad, otherwise known as Chinese chicken salad, is something I grew up eating at family pot lucks. Only it wasn't the bastardized version served by the likes of The Cheesecake Factory with heaps of fried vermicelli and mandarin oranges (though I enjoy those as well). It was the authentic dish from Vietnam that my mom made growing up and passed on to me. It was simply green cabbage, shredded chicken, carrots, and green onions, all dressed with fish sauce. I could eat several bowls of that stuff in one sitting, and usually did. But, hypocrite that I am, I'm giving you a slightly different recipe that will likely appeal a little more to the masses. In fact, I've yet to serve this to someone who wasn't pleasantly surprised with the flavor. Don't let the raw cabbage fool you - it's completely delicious and refreshing on a sunny day. <br /><br />If you are lucky enough to own a food processor, it's a snap to put together. Just use the chopping blade to mince the ginger, garlic, jalepeno, and cilantro together first for the dressing. Then replace the blade with the 2mm slicing disk and go to town with your cabbage. Once the cabbage is done, replace the slicing disk with the fine shredding disk and have at you with the carrots. Now that everything is prepped and your full arsenal of processor attachments exhausted, dump everything in the dishwasher and call it good. If you are relying solely on knives, just make sure to slice everything thinly like you're making cole slaw and embrace the mess that ensues.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://i730.photobucket.com/albums/ww306/gourmette/IMG_3293copy.jpg" width="100%" height="100%" /></center><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Chicken and Cabbage Salad</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Use all green cabbage if you can't be bothered to get red cabbage, too; I just like the extra color.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Serves 6</span><br /></span></span><br />1/3 cup red wine vinegar<br />1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro (coriander)<br />1/4 cup soy sauce<br />1 tablespoon fish sauce (nuoc mum)<br />1 teaspoon chicken bouillon powder<br />3 tablespoons minced fresh ginger<br />4 large garlic cloves, minced<br />2 teaspoons minced jalapeño chili (with seeds), optional<br />2 teaspoons sesame oil<br />1 tablespoon sugar<br /><br />5 cups thinly sliced green cabbage (about 1/2 head)<br />4 cups thinly sliced red cabbage (about 1/2 head)<br />3-4 large carrots, finely shredded<br />1 1/2 pounds (750 gr) cooked shredded chicken<br />2 cups green beans, trimmed to 1-inch pieces<br />1 bunch green onions, thinly sliced<br /><br />Bring a medium saucepan of water to a boil, then add the green beans. Return to boil and cook for 3-4 minutes until beans are crisp-tender. Immediately remove green beans to an ice bath (or just run with lots of cold water. Drain and set aside.<br /><br />In a bowl, combine the red wine vinegar, soy sauce, fish sauce, bouillon, cilantro, ginger, garlic, jalapeno (if using), sesame oil, sugar, and 1/3 cup of water. Stir dressing until sugar and bouillon are dissolved.<br /><br />In a large bowl or 9- by 13-inch cake pan, mix the cabbages together, then layer the rest of the ingredients in the following order: carrots, chicken, green beans, green onions. Serve salad with lots of dressing.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2285607305189235814.post-46496364702462646542009-08-14T13:03:00.012+12:002009-08-14T16:33:48.423+12:00A difference of opinionCollin and I usually like the same things, gastronomically speaking at least. Unfortunately, we differ greatly on our love of this Roasted Shrimp and Broccoli dish that I got off <a href="http://wednesdaychef.typepad.com/">The Wednesday Chef's</a> blog. It's so simple and so delicious that I felt a little foolish using an actual recipe for it. Still, all culinary insecurities aside, I feel the need to share it with you all. <br /><br />It's a good idea, combining sweet-briny shrimp with slightly bitter broccoli and finishing it all with a generous squeeze of lemon. The part where I can't seem to agree with my husband is the recipe's use of whole spices. Coriander and cumin seeds, to be exact. I prefer them whole; I love the pleasant little <span style="font-style: italic;">pop </span><span><span>each coriander seed makes when you bite into it, along with the tiny burst of concentrated flavor that follows. Those darling seeds of deliciousness wedge themselves happily into the broccoli florets, awaiting my eager teeth to seek them out. They give a nice savory balance to the shrimp, too. Heaven!<br /><br /><center><img src="http://i730.photobucket.com/albums/ww306/gourmette/shrimpandbroccoli2_2.jpg" width="87%" height="87%" /></center><br /><br />Collin does not see the joy I've just described. Instead, he finds the seeds a nuisance, spending more time than necessary picking each and every little seed out of his food. It's sad. Just sad. He prefers it when I use ground spices, claiming that the more even and subtle distribution of flavors is a better complement to the dish. I think we all know who is in the wrong here (hint: it's Collin). I have made it his way a few times, and it's still good that way, but why not try for a little excitement once in a while? I mean, really, how often do you get to use whole spices in your cooking? That's what I thought. Nevertheless, if you insist on wimping out, just substitute ground spices and your taste buds will still thank you.<br /><br />Oh, and I serve this with basmati rice. The aromatic rice goes perfectly with the dish. Collin prefers it with jasmine rice. Where did I go wrong? <br /><br /><center><img src="http://i730.photobucket.com/albums/ww306/gourmette/shrimpandbroccoli2_3.jpg" width="87%" height="87%" /></center><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Roasted Shrimp and Broccoli</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">adapted from The Wednesday Chef (who got it from Melissa Clark)</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">serves 4</span><br /></span></span><p>2 pounds (1 kg) broccoli, cut into bite-size florets<br />4 tablespoons (60 ml) extra virgin olive oil<br />1 1/2 teaspoons whole coriander seeds (or 1 teaspoon ground)<br />1 1/2 teaspoons whole cumin seeds (or 1 teaspoon ground)<br />1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt<br />1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper<br />1 pound (500 g) large shrimp, shelled and deveined<br />1 large lemon, zested<br /></p><p><span class="bold">1. </span> Preheat oven to 425 degrees F (220 C). In a large bowl, toss broccoli with 2 tablespoons oil, coriander, cumin, 1 teaspoon salt, and 1/2 teaspoon pepper. In a separate bowl, combine shrimp, remaining 2 tablespoons oil, lemon zest, remaining 1/2 teaspoon salt and remaining 1/2 teaspoon pepper.<span class="bold"><br /></span></p><p><span class="bold">2. </span> Spread broccoli in a single layer on a baking sheet. Roast for 10 minutes. Add shrimp to baking sheet and toss with broccoli. Roast, tossing once halfway through, until shrimp are just opaque and broccoli is tender and golden around edges, about 10 minutes more. Remove from oven. Squeeze lemon juice (from your zested lemon) all over shrimp and broccoli and toss. Serve immediately.<br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2285607305189235814.post-77002040024659910842009-07-17T22:22:00.001+12:002009-07-17T23:30:52.946+12:00I love a good running gagWe celebrated Collin's birthday a few days after returning from Japan. Tough act to follow, so we just kept things very low-key. As for birthday cakes, anything elaborate was out of the question. How could I hope to compete with the kinds of treats we had in Tokyo? I couldn't. Not yet, anyway. And I'm okay with that. Really, I am. Instead, I embraced the simplicity theme and made him lemon bars for his birthday dessert. Why lemon bars, you ask? Oh, I feel a story coming on...<br /><center><img src="http://i730.photobucket.com/albums/ww306/gourmette/07-07-2009001.jpg" width="60%" height="60%" /></center><br />I'm a sucker for grocery store sales - you know the kind where you get an additional discount when you purchase sale items in sets of 10? The kind where, if you do it right, you actually save more than you spend? I kind of get a thrill from those. Anyway, somewhere near the beginning of our marriage, I fell prey to one of these amazing sales and brought home a box of Krusteaz Lemon Bar Mix. <br /><br />I don't like lemon bars. Not sure why, since I love everything else lemon-flavored. Every few weeks Collin would (half) jokingly remind me that there was a box of lemon bar mix in the pantry waiting to be made, especially when I would complain of a sweet tooth. They never got made while we were in L.A., so we brought the box along when we moved to Utah for a few months. Again, every few weeks that box would become the topic of conversation. Again, it simply languished on the pantry shelf. Just 8 short months after moving to Utah, we found ourselves with an unexpected offer to move to New Zealand for work. It was time to finish all the food in our pantry or else let it go to waste. I took a deep breath and brought out The Box late one night, determined to make my husband happy. As fortune and the FDA would have it, the lemon bar mix had long since expired. What were we doing schlepping that silly thing all over the country, anyway? I'm still not sure, but somewhere in a landfill, there's a sad little box of lemon bar mix that never fulfilled its destiny. <br /><br />To you, dear box of lemon bar mix, I dedicate these far superior freshly made ones. Oh, and to my darling husband as well. Happy (now belated) birthday, and may all your lemon bars come true!<br /><br />For the record, I still don't like lemon bars. But Collin loved them.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://i730.photobucket.com/albums/ww306/gourmette/07-07-2009010-1.jpg" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);" width="50%" height="50%"/></center><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lemon Bars</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">from </span>Rose's Christmas Cookies<span style="font-style: italic;">, by Rose Levy Beranbaum</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Shortbread Base</span><br /> 10 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened (142 grams)<br />2 tablespoons powdered sugar (14 grams)<br />2 tablespoons superfine or caster sugar (granulated also works) (25 grams)<br />1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour (180 grams)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lemon Curd Topping</span><br />4 large egg yolks<br />3/4 cup sugar (150 grams)<br />3 fluid ounces freshly squeezed lemon juice (about 2 1/2 large lemons) (90 mL)<br />4 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened (57 grams)<br />Pinch of salt<br />2 teaspoons finely grated lemon zest (4 grams)<br />2 tablespoons powdered sugar for dusting (14 grams)<br /><br />Line an 8x8-inch aluminum or glass pan with foil, leaving a 2-inch overhang on two sides.<br /><br />In a medium bowl, whisk together the sugars. In a large bowl of an electric stand mixer, cream the butter with the sugars until light and fluffy. With your fingers or with the electric mixer, mix in the flour until incorporated. If using the mixer, add the flour in 2 parts.<br /><br />Place oven rack in the middle of the oven.<br /><br />Preheat oven to 325°F (300°F if using glass)/160°C (150°C)<br /><br />Pat the dough into the prepared pan. Use a fork to prick the dough all over.<br /><br />Bake for about 30 to 40 minutes or until the edges are lightly browned and the top is pale golden (do not brown).<br /><br />While the shortbread is baking, prepare the Lemon Curd Topping.<br /><br />LEMON CURD TOPPING<br />Have a strainer, suspended over a bowl, ready near the range.<br /><br />In a heavy non-corrodible saucepan, beat the egg yolks and sugar with a wooden spoon until well blended. Stir in the lemon juice, butter, and salt. Cook over medium-low heat, stirring constantly, for about 6 minutes, until thickened and resembling hollandaise sauce, which thickly coats a wooden spoon but is still liquid enough to pour. (A candy thermometer will read 196°F.) The mixture will change from translucent to opaque and begin to take on a yellow color on the back of a wooden spoon. It must not be allowed to boil or it will curdle. (It will steam above 140°F. Whenever steaming occurs, remove the pan briefly from the heat, stirring constantly to prevent boiling.)<br /><br />When the curd has thickened, pour it at once into the strainer. Press it with the back of a spoon until only the coarse residue remains. Discard the residue. Stir in the lemon zest.<br /><br />When the shortbread is baked, remove it from the oven, lower the temperature to by 300°F. (275°F if using a glass pan), pour the lemon curd on top of the shortbread, and return it to the oven for 10 minutes.<br /><br />Cool the lemon bars completely in the pan on a wire rack. Refrigerate the pan for 30 minutes to set the lemon curd completely. Place the powdered sugar in a strainer and tap the strainer with a spoon to sprinkle a thick, even coating, entirely covering the lemon.<br /><br />Use the foil overhang to lift out the lemon bars onto a cutting surface. Using a long, sharp knife to cut the shortbread into bars, wiping the blade after each cut.<br /><br />Store:<br />In an airtight container at room temperature, or in the refrigerator or freezer. Keeps 3 days at room temperature, 3 weeks refrigerated (individually wrapped in plastic wrap to prevent drying), or 3 months frozen.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2285607305189235814.post-59950436214611635672009-07-10T23:12:00.004+12:002009-07-10T23:51:45.161+12:00No reasonWe spent the past 10 days in Japan, going from one delicious food to the next and catching a few sights in between. We had sushi fresh from the big Tokyo fish market at 6:00AM<br /><img src="http://i730.photobucket.com/albums/ww306/gourmette/07-05-2009227.jpg" width="100%" height="100%" /><br />A few treats from Monsieurs Hermé and Ladurée (among others). How I've missed macarons!<br /><img src="http://i730.photobucket.com/albums/ww306/gourmette/07-05-2009122.jpg" width="100%" height="100%" /><br />We also managed to pick this little baby up in Tokyo. Pretty...<br /><img src="http://i730.photobucket.com/albums/ww306/gourmette/07-07-2009011.jpg" width="100%" height="100%" /><br />But enough of our gallivanting about the world. This isn't a travel blog! This is about senseless baking! Collin's birthday was on Tuesday. I made him lemon bars (more on that later) and had 5 egg whites left over, begging me to do something with them. Having just consumed an inordinate amount of macarons like the ones above, I didn't feel the need to make my own just yet. Plus, it had been raining on and off all week - very bad news for anything involving a meringue. Then again, there <span style="font-style: italic;">was </span>that pavlova that I've been wanting to make for ages, and it wasn't<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>raining <span style="font-style: italic;">today, </span>and it <span style="font-style: italic;">was</span> Friday...<br /><br /><center><img src="http://i730.photobucket.com/albums/ww306/gourmette/07-10-2009006.jpg" width="100%" height="100%"/></center><br />Okay, so maybe there was no real good reason for making a pav today, especially given the high likelihood of failure from how humid it was. But you know what? I did it anyway. And you know what? It was <span style="font-style: italic;">good</span>! The thin, delicately crisp outer shell yielded to a slightly chewy in-between area that finally gave way to a soft, pillowy marshmallow inside. The whipped cream was only lightly sweetened, so it balanced the sweetness of the meringue beautifully with the sweet-tart fruit. It took three people just a few hours to eat the whole thing, mostly because <span style="font-style: italic;">we just couldn't stop. </span>I regret nothing.<br /><br /><img src="http://i730.photobucket.com/albums/ww306/gourmette/07-10-2009007.jpg" width="100%" height="100%"/><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Pavlova</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">adapted from Gourmet, April 2009</span><br /><br />1 cup superfine (caster) granulated sugar<br />1 tablespoon cornstarch<br />3 large egg whites, room temperature<br />3 tablespoons cold water<br />1 teaspoon distilled white vinegar <br /><br />1 cup whipping cream<br />1 tablespoon sugar<br />2-4 cups fresh fruit (any berry, kiwifruit, mandarins, etc.)<br /><br />Preheat oven to 300°F (150 C) with rack in middle. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper. <p> Whisk together superfine sugar and cornstarch in a small bowl. </p> <p> Beat whites with a pinch of salt using an electric mixer at medium speed until they hold soft peaks. Add water (the peaks will disappear) and beat until whites again hold soft peaks. </p> <p> Increase speed to medium-high and beat in sugar mixture 1 tablespoon at a time. After all the sugar has been added, beat 1 minute more. </p> <p> Add vinegar and beat at high speed until meringue is glossy and holds stiff peaks, about 5 minutes (longer if using hand-held mixer). </p> <p> Gently spread meringue in a 6-inch (approx.) circle on parchment, making edge of meringue slightly higher than center (the "crater" is for cream and fruit). Bake until meringue is pale golden and has a crust, about 45 minutes. The outside will crack and be solid while the inside will remain marshmallowy.</p> <p> Turn oven off and prop door open slightly with a wooden spoon. Cool meringue in oven 1 hour.<br /></p><p>Beat cream with sugar until it just holds stiff peaks and spoon into meringue. Mound fruit and/or berries on top. Take lots of pictures, because this will likely become a scary mess once you cut into it - enjoy!<br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2285607305189235814.post-55299202574089253162009-06-24T18:56:00.003+12:002009-06-25T09:27:35.573+12:00Worthy of no picturesThis is just embarrassing. Here I commit myself to a food blog, get off to a great start, then instantly fizzle out. In my defense, it's been a madhouse in my life these past few weeks. We moved house last week and are taking a trip to Japan this week. Blogs (and cooking) have not been at the top of my list of priorities, sadly. I haven't even taken any pictures of, well, anything! What have I been feeding my family all this time, you might be wondering? I'm sad to report that an inordinate amount of fish 'n chips have been consumed. At least I varied the fry shacks from which we ordered. Sigh. My head is hanging in shame. I did manage to make something of some nutritional and gustatory value last week, though: French onion soup. I apologize for the lack of pictures, but like I said, the camera has been laying dormant amidst the packing frenzy. I'll hopefully make it again soon this winter, so will post pictures when I do. Hey, I'll take any excuse to make delicious onion soup again!<br /><br />Many of you may roll your eyes and gag yourselves and call me a heretic when you see that my recipe does not use any sort of red wine or sherry. But, as previously mentioned, we are an alcohol-free household and have had to be creative in finding adequate substitutes. Onion soup has been an especially difficult substitute to find, because the flavor of the wine is so integral to the flavor of the onions and soup. I shied away for years because of this, but no more, friends! No more! While it's nowhere near as good as the one I had in Paris (but come on, it's <font style="font-style: italic;">Paris</font>!), it's still perfectly delicious.<br /><br /><font style="font-weight: bold;">Soupe a l'Oignon au Fromage (French Onion Soup)</font><br /><font style="font-style: italic;">Adapted from <font style="font-style: italic;">Gourmet, </font>Jan 1991<br />Yield: 6 servings</font><br /><br />6 large onions (about 5 pounds/2.25 kg), sliced thin<br />1/4 cup (2 oz/50 gr) unsalted butter<br />1 1/2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar<br />2 teaspoons sugar<br />1 tablespoon all-purpose flour<br />1 1/2 quarts (1.5 ltr) beef broth<br />twelve 1/2-inch-thick slices of French bread, toasted<br />3/4 pound (350 gr) coarsely grated Gruyère<br /><p> In a large heavy-bottomed pot cook the onions in the butter over moderately low heat, stirring often, for 45 minutes, or until they are golden brown. Add vinegar and sugar and cook until absorbed, 1-2 minutes. Sprinkle the onions with the flour and cook the mixture, stirring, for 3 minutes. Add the broth slowly, stir the soup constantly until it comes to a boil, and simmer it, covered, for 20 minutes. Season the soup with salt and pepper. Put 2 slices of the toast in each of 6 heated soup bowls, top each toast with 1 tablespoon of the Gruyère, and pour the soup over the toasts.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2285607305189235814.post-85240837008140052962009-05-30T22:35:00.010+12:002009-06-02T21:37:20.344+12:00In betweenSometimes you just need to have a baking day with a girlfriend. My friend Chevon came over this afternoon with her <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Essence-Chocolate-Recipes-Baking-Cooking/dp/1401302386">Big Book of All Things Chocolate</a>. After poring through the pages and drooling over the many delectable recipes, we finally settled on making brownies.<br /><br />I know, right? Of all the things we could have attempted in its gourmet catalog, we chose perhaps the most humble of all chocolate recipes. But can you blame us? What a pure and simple way to showcase chocolate! Besides, we both hadn't had brownies in far too long. Then the real debate began: should we make cakey or fudgy brownies? With or without walnuts? We are both chocolate purists, so without walnuts was an easy decision. Cakey vs. fudgy, on the other hand, was a bit more difficult to decide; the book had one recipe for each. The cakey recipe seemed a little <span style="font-style: italic;">too </span>cakey, while the picture of the fudgy recipe just looked like fudge. Is it too much to ask for something in between? We ended up chickening out of using the book's recipes and turned once again to my trusty old epicurious.com for inspiration. As luck would have it, there was a brownie recipe that claimed it could be cakey <span style="font-style: italic;">or</span> fudgy, depending on how long you cooked it. <span style="font-style: italic;">Well, </span>thought we,<span style="font-style: italic;"> it looks like we </span>can <span style="font-style: italic;">get the best of both worlds after all! We'll only baked them 5 minutes longer than the minimum time to achieve brownie nirvana.</span> And off we went...<br /><center><img src="http://i730.photobucket.com/albums/ww306/gourmette/05-30-2009143.jpg" width="100%" height="100%" /></center><br />Sadly, brownie nirvana will have to wait for another day. The brownies, while completely delicious, perfectly rich (but not gaggingly so), and chocalatey, were quite cakey. They got a bit fudgier after fully cooling down (but who wants to wait for <span style="font-style: italic;">that</span>, honestly?), but the end product was still a very cakey brownie. It was with much sorrow that we all gobbled up the brownies with several glasses of milk and had seconds and thirds. I think I've uncovered a new mission in life: <span style="font-weight: bold;">The Quest for the Ultimate Brownie</span>, or, if you prefer, <span style="font-weight: bold;">Brownie Nirvana</span>.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Cakey Brownies</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">adapted from "Gourmet" magazine, Oct. 2003</span><br />Don't let my sad tale of woe deter you - these brownies are still quite amazing. Bake them the minimun amount of time (or slightly underbake them) if you want to try for fudgier results, and let me know how it goes.<br /><br />2 sticks (1 cup) unsalted butter<br />8 ounces fine-quality bittersweet chocolate (not unsweetened), coarsely chopped<br />1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour<br />1/3 cup unsweetened cocoa powder<br />1 teaspoon baking powder<br />1/2 teaspoon salt<br />1 2/3 cups sugar<br />4 large eggs<br />2 teaspoons vanilla<br /><p> Put oven rack in middle position and preheat oven to 350°F. Grease a 9-inch square baking pan (2 inches deep) and line bottom and sides with parchment paper, then butter paper. </p> <p> Melt butter and chocolate in a medium heatproof bowl set over a saucepan of simmering water, stirring occasionally, until smooth. </p> <p> Whisk together flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, and salt in a small bowl. </p> <p> Whisk together sugar, eggs, and vanilla in a large bowl, then pour in chocolate mixture, whisking until combined well. Whisk in flour mixture, then stir in walnuts and transfer batter to baking pan. </p> <p> Bake until top is shiny and set and sides have begun to pull away slightly (a wooden pick or skewer will not come out clean), about 35 minutes, for fudgy brownies; or until wooden pick or skewer comes out clean, 50 minutes to 1 hour total, for cakey brownies. </p> <p> Cool brownies completely in pan on a rack. Invert onto a cutting board, remove paper, and cut into squares. </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2285607305189235814.post-62821424187657859212009-05-26T21:25:00.001+12:002009-05-27T09:58:24.182+12:00Lazy bakingSometimes you want something dessert-y without all the hassle of making a dessert. Sometimes you just want a snack that won't fill you with self-loathing for slipping on the diet yet again. Sometimes you don't have a whole box of butter or a whole bar of chocolate or anything terribly fancy, for that matter. Here's your answer: Lemon and Honey Cake. <br /><br /><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gourmette/3547768937/" title="lemon cake by gourmette, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2448/3547768937_5dc3517781.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="lemon cake" /></a></center><br />It's moist, it's substantial but not dense, it's perfectly zingy, and it's perfectly (read: not too) sweet. What's not to love? The best part is: it's completely easy to substitute most of the ingredients for whatever you have on hand. Oh, and it's moderately virtuous. Praise indeed!<br /><br /><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gourmette/3547769835/" title="lemon cake slice by gourmette, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3374/3547769835_fe6680a0cd.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="lemon cake slice" /></a></center><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Lemon and Honey Cake</span><br />adapted from <a href="http://orangette.blogspot.com/">Orangette</a><br /><br />1/2 cup plain yogurt (or fruity yogurt, preferably lemon flavored, or even sour cream)<br />1/3 cup honey<br />1/2 cup sugar (a little less if you used sweetened yogurt)<br />3 eggs<br />1 teaspoon vanilla<br />1 2/3 cup flour<br />2 teaspoons baking powder<br />zest from 1 large lemon<br />1/2 cup oil<br /><br />juice from 1 large lemon (or use 2 if you really like your lemon flavor)<br />1/3 cup powdered sugar<br /><br />Preheat oven to 350 degrees Farenheit. Butter a 9" round cake pan, then line bottom with parchment paper and butter the parchment.<br /><br />In a large bowl, whisk together yogurt, honey, sugar, eggs, and vanilla until well blended. Sift in the flour and baking powder, then add lemon zest, and mix with a spatula or wooden spoon until just combined. Add oil and mix until incorporated. Bake for 30-35 minutes, or until wooden toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. It will be a little dark because of the honey - that's okay. Remove to a rack and allow to cool completely in pan.<br /><br />While cake is cooling, whisk together the lemon juice and powdered sugar. When cake is fully cooled, remove from pan and drizzle glaze over top. It will be very thin and will soak into the cake. Enjoy!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2285607305189235814.post-21851935653772935602009-05-20T15:02:00.005+12:002009-05-20T22:36:22.801+12:00It's the Great Pumpkin [soup], Charlie Brown!I love pumpkin! I really do. And I love coconut milk. And cilantro. And ginger. There's this amazing Thai pumpkin soup (Keg Bouad Mak Fak Kham) in <span style="font-style:italic;">Hot Sour Salty Sweet</span> by Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid. It has pretty much everything I love together at last in one happy pot. As written, the recipe was delicious - silky smooth with small chunks of pumpkin for texture. Then I decided to get crazy with the immersion blender and puree the whole thing. That took it to 11. Oh yes, I went there - and so did the soup. After sitting for a few hours to let the flavors blend, everything seemed more intense. The rich, sweet pumpkin and coconut milk, the spicy ginger, the salty fish sauce, and the refreshing cilantro all made for a multi-layered tasting experience. Mostly, though, it was just plain yummy.<br /><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gourmette/3547726295/" title="pumpkin by gourmette, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3544/3547726295_d50d90b34a.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="pumpkin" /></a></center><br />"Wait a minute - <span style="font-style:italic;">fish sauce??</span>" you must be wondering. Oh yes, my friends. Fish sauce. Straight from the bottle, its smell is pungent enough to knock your socks off. The flavor is equally strong. I grew up with this as a common condiment with all the Vietnamese food we ate, but it's not for everyone. That said, you should definitely NOT omit it. If you're unsure, just add it one tablespoon at a time and work your way up to taste. You won't regret it.<br /><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gourmette/3548534522/" title="cilantro by gourmette, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2466/3548534522_d9421bd29d.jpg" width="334" height="500" alt="cilantro" /></a></center><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Silky-Coconut Pumpkin Soup (Keg Bouad Mak Fak Kham)</span><br />adapted from <span style="font-style:italic;">Hot Sour Salty Sweet</span>, by Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid<br /><br />3 to 4 shallots, chopped<br />1 1/2 pounds pumpkin or butternut squash (untrimmed), or 1 1/4 pounds peeled and trimmed<br />1 tablespoon fresh ginger, minced<br />3 tablespoons unsalted butter<br />1 can (14.5 oz) of coconut milk<br />2 cups mild chicken or vegetable broth<br />1 cup loosely packed cilantro (coriander) leaves<br />1/2 teaspoon salt<br />2 tablespoons fish sauce, or to taste<br />Generous grindings of black pepper<br />1/4 cup minced scallion greens (optional)<br /><br />Peel and trim the pumpkin and clean off any seeds. Cut into small 1/2-inch cubes. You should have 4 1/2 to 5 cups cubed pumpkin. <br /><br />In a large pot over medium heat, melt the butter and saute the shallots, pumpkin, and ginger until shallots are tender, about 5-8 minutes. <br /><br />Add the coconut milk, broth, and cilantro leaves to pot and bring to a boil. Add the salt and simmer over medium heat until the pumpkin is tender, about 10 minutes. Stir in the fish sauce and cook for another 2 to 3 minutes. Taste for salt and add a little more fish sauce if desired. Serve as is for authentic Thai version. For bastardized Maxine version, puree the soup in a blender (working in batches) until smooth. This soup is best when allowed to sit for at least one hour. I like to make mine the night before. <br /><br />When ready to serve: reheat soup over medium-low, ladle into individual bowls, and garnish with generous grindings of black pepper and minced scallions, if desired. I never bother, but I know it tastes good and looks pretty.<br /><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gourmette/3547727119/" title="pumpkin soup by gourmette, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3307/3547727119_fc5685ff2f.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="pumpkin soup" /></a></center>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2285607305189235814.post-35348982316699774062009-05-10T15:18:00.006+12:002009-05-12T21:09:15.555+12:00AversionsThere are not many things that I don't enjoy eating. I love trying new and crazy foods, always with the full expectation of enjoying them. Then there are those few items which I desire with all my little heart to love. Things that embody the terms <span style="font-style: italic;">gourmet </span><span>and <span style="font-style: italic;">refinement</span>. Things that I have tried time and again to like. Tried, and failed. Olives are one of them. As an ingredient in a dish, it's fine, but by itself, blegh. I've tried nearly every olive I've come across, always with the hope that this will be the magic olive that reverses my natural impulse to gag when the squishy, briny mass hits the back of my tongue. I've always pictured myself lounging on a deck with friends dining on olives and cheese as the warm summer day comes to twilight. Sadly, that image will have to defer to another snacky item for the time being.<br /><br />Here's another one: Eggplant. I always think of that old Looney Tunes cartoon where Elmer Fudd fights an invasion from eggplant-shaped aliens (not that that's at all a negative association). They're purple, they're shiny, and they feel really nice to touch. I <span style="font-style: italic;">want</span> to like them, but the flavor and the texture have always been more than I can handle. It just never felt <span style="font-style: italic;">right</span> on my tongue.<br /><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gourmette/3517295659/" title="Ratatouille prep by gourmette, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3660/3517295659_d31f34a409.jpg" width="334" height="500" alt="Ratatouille prep" /></a></center><br />And so it was on a cold, rainy afternoon that I finally decided to conquer my aversion to eggplant. I scoured recipe books for inspiration on what to make with the peculiar vegetable. It had to highlight the flavor and texture of the eggplant with enough going on in the background to soothe my anxious palate. The answer was perfection in its simplicity: ratatouille! <br /><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gourmette/3519953364/" title="Ratatouille in pot by gourmette, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3369/3519953364_69bbc14f2f.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="Ratatouille in pot" /></a></center><br />For those who don't know, ratatouille (pronounced "rat-a-TOO-weeh") is a traditional French vegetable stew composed of onion, eggplant, zucchini, red bell pepper, and tomato, along with herbs like thyme, fennel, and oregano. As noted in the eponymous movie, "it is a peasant's dish," which means it's simple for the cook and comforting for the eater. It highlighted each vegetable's flavor and texture without any one competing for your attention more than the other. And I'm happy to report that I've been converted to eggplant. I didn't have the red bell pepper on hand this one time, so I subbed mushrooms to add some more substance and texture, and you know what? I liked it! I'm sure die-hard authentic French cuisine fanatics are rolling their eyes and gagging at me right now, but if you're looking for truly authentic ratatouille, simply omit the mushrooms and get yourself a French grandmother.<br /><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gourmette/3518082948/" title="Ratatouille by gourmette, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3572/3518082948_d96183a9ff.jpg" width="333" height="500" alt="Ratatouille" /></a></center><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Ratatouille</span><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">adapted from Gourmet, June 1991</span><br />I like my stew on the chunky side, so I cut the vegetables larger and cook it for less time. If you like yours more mushy and melded, just cut everything a bit smaller and/or cook about 10 minutes longer at the end. Serves 4-6.<br /><br />1 onion, thinly sliced<br />3 garlic cloves, minced<br />4 tablespoons olive oil<br />2 eggplants, about 1 1/2 pounds (750 g), cut into 1" cubes<br />4-5 medium zucchini, cut in half lengthwise, then cut into 1/2" pieces<br />1 red bell pepper, core and seeds removed, and chopped<br />1 punnet mushrooms (250 g), cleaned and quartered<br />1 1/2 pounds ripe tomatoes, coarsely chopped<br />1 teaspoon herbes de provence, or<br /> 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano<br /> 1/2 teaspoon dried thyme<br /> 1/4 teaspoon ground coriander<br /> 1/2 teaspoon fennel seeds<br />Salt, to taste<br />Fresh basil leaves<br /><br />Heat 2 tablespoons oil in a large, heavy-bottomed pot over medium-low. Add onion and garlic and saute until tender, about 3 to 5 minutes. Turn heat up to medium-high and add remaining 2 tablespoons oil. When oil is hot but not smoking, add the eggplant and cook, stirring, until softened, about 6 minutes. Add zucchini, bell pepper, and mushrooms, and cook, stirring occasionally, until tender, about 10 minutes. Add tomatoes and herbs and cook, stirring occasionally for 5 to 7 minutes. Season with salt to taste and add fresh basil leaves. Serve immediately with some crusty bread.<br /><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gourmette/3519107283/" title="Ratatouille bowl by gourmette, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3407/3519107283_186975a2b7.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="Ratatouille bowl" /></a><br /></span></center>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2285607305189235814.post-49373098416062762772009-05-03T22:48:00.008+12:002009-05-10T15:18:11.260+12:00Junk mail junkieMy sister-in-law and her family left today. It was a fantastic visit with all sorts of hijinx and hilarity involved. We even toured the South Island together, where I got to take a little break from food photography and shoot some of the stunning vistas that surrounded us in paradise. Heaven. But, it's back to the real world now, and back to the kitchen for a send-off meal worthy of their 13-hour return flight.<br /><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gourmette/3499189904/" title="Lake Tekapo by gourmette, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3624/3499189904_fd98c7daab.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="Lake Tekapo" /></a></center><br /><br />We didn't have all too much food left, but there were plenty of leftovers from previous bacon-and-egg breakfasts, a hunk of really old and molding feta from a friend's failed pizza experiment, a red bell pepper purchased earlier ("just in case"), and my ever-present giant block of Edam. I decided that quiche was the way to go here. Of all places to find a recipe, I saw this delicious looking one in a promotional mailer for eggs. So there's my secret guilty pleasure: I like to read through junk mail. I'm not typically enticed by advertisement recipes, but we just seemed to have all the ingredients for this one. So I set to work.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gourmette/3498366331/" title="Roasted capsicum and feta quiche by gourmette, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3348/3498366331_5c7914a6b8.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="Roasted capsicum and feta quiche" /></a></center><br /><br />I made the pâte brisée the night before. No fancy equipment involved, just the simple ingredients and my fingers. It came together very quickly, then spent the night in the fridge while I spent the night in an equally frigid bedroom. The rest of the quiche was simple enough to make the following day, if a little more time-consuming. We were all starving by the time the quiche went into the oven and had resorted to snacking on ice cream and breakfast cereal before it was halfway done. Poor us. However, as our game of Settlers of Catan wound down and the timer signaled lunchtime for us, our appetites renewed themselves with gusto at the smell of the quiche coming out of the oven. The general consensus was that this was hands down the best quiche anyone in the company had ever tasted - and we've eaten our fair share of them. The sour cream and feta created a smooth, creamy texture and tangy zip that you just don't find in most quiches, while the bacon added the perfect amount of smokey saltiness for balance. The roasted bell peppers were wonderful for sweetness and color. Seriously, this was <span style="font-style:italic;">good</span>. <br /><br /><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gourmette/3499241434/" title="Roasted capsicum and feta quiche by gourmette, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3334/3499241434_00b81b2703.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="Roasted capsicum and feta quiche" /></a></center><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Roasted Pepper and Feta Quiche</span><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">adapted from egg promotional mailer</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Pâte Brisée</span><br />1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour<br />6 tablespoons (75 g) cold unsalted butter, cut into bits<br />2 tablespoons (25 g) cold vegetable shortening<br />1/4 teaspoon salt<br />1/4 cup very cold water<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Quiche</span><br />6 eggs<br />1/2 cup sour cream<br />1/2 cup milk<br />1 large onion, chopped<br />1 teaspoon oil<br />6 strips of bacon (more or less), chopped<br />2 ounces (50 g) feta cheese, crumbled<br />3/4 cup grated Edam cheese<br />1 red bell pepper<br />salt and pepper<br />chopped parsley, optional<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Make the crust</span><br />Combine flour and salt in a bowl, then add in butter and shortening. Working quickly, rub mixture with your fingers until it resembles coarse meal (with pea-sized bits of butter). Add the water, a little at a time, until mixture holds together when squeezed. If it's still too dry and crumbly, continue adding more water by the teaspoon until it sticks. Dough should be relatively dry. Dump dough onto a countertop and knead about 3 times to get everything to stick together, then form into a disk and wrap tightly in plastic. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes and up to one week.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Make the quiche</span><br />Rub the bell pepper skin lightly with oil, then grill until skin is blackened and blistered all over. If you don't have a grill, simply stick a fork in each end and roast it spit-like over a gas stove's flame, making sure to turn evenly. That method takes about 10 minutes. When the skin is sufficiently charred, remove pepper from heat and wrap tightly in foil to cool (without the forks, of course).<br /><br />Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Roll out pie dough into a 12-inch circle and place inside a 9- or 10-inch pie dish or quiche tin with removable base. Trim off excess and make the edges pretty if you want. Prick bottom all over with a fork, then place a piece of parchment paper (or foil) over it and fill with dried beans or rice to weight it down. Bake 15 minutes.<br /><br />Heat oil in a small pan set over medium heat and cook onion and bacon until softened. Set aside. Whisk together eggs, sour cream, milk, and salt and pepper to taste. When the bell pepper is cool enough to handle, remove the skin (it should come right off) and core, then slice thinly.<br /><br />Scatter onions and bacon into pastry shell, pour in the egg mixture, sprinkle the crumbled feta evenly, and scatter on the bell pepper strips. Add a sprinkle of parsley over top and bake until quiche is golden and set, about 30-40 minutes. Allow to cool slightly before serving.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2285607305189235814.post-77484016787283430422009-04-27T22:48:00.000+12:002009-04-27T22:48:00.220+12:00Do you know the muffin man?I'm not really obsessed with muffins right now. Really, I'm not. I mean, sure, they're really quick and easy to make. Sure, they're good to have on a road trip and my kid actually eats them. And you can adapt them to suit your taste in so many ways. And they're perfect portion control. And...<br /><br /><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gourmette/3470186012/" title="04-24-2009 028 by gourmette, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3601/3470186012_1921a428f9.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="04-24-2009 028" /></a></center><br /><br />Fine. I'm obsessed. But with good reason. Did you SEE that muffin?? These ones are particularly addictive. Not only because they taste so darned good, but because you know they're so healthy that there's no guilt involved for making them. I usually make a batch of these every week until we burn out, wait about a month, and start all over again. My friend Abby got it from a friend of a friend of a friend, who got it from some unknown cookbook. I hope you'll forgive my lack of proper citation, but I'm hoping that the recipe has changed enough by now that it wouldn't be an issue. I've certainly made plenty of my own adjustments to healthify these little gems without sacrificing on taste.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gourmette/3470137886/" title="04-24-2009 030 by gourmette, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3564/3470137886_b0e0ec9e1d.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="04-24-2009 030" /></a></center><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">The Friend-of-a-Friend Zucchini-Carrot Muffin</span><br />Don't let the long ingredient list scare you - it's mostly stuff you have lying around already. Makes 12-18 muffins<br /><br />1 cup all-purpose flour<br />3/4 cup whole wheat flour<br />1 teaspoon salt<br />1 teaspoon baking soda<br />1/2 teaspoon baking powder<br />1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon<br />1/2 teaspoon ground ginger<br />1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg<br />2/3 cup granulated sugar<br />1/2 cup dark brown sugar, packed<br />2 eggs<br />1/4 cup vegetable oil<br />1/4 plain yogurt or sour cream<br />1 1/2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract<br />zest from 1 lemon<br />1 1/2 cup coarsely grated zucchini (about 1 large or 2 small zucchini)<br />1/2 cup grated carrot (about 1 large carrot)<br />1/2 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips<br /><br />Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease or line a muffin tin with paper cups. <br /><br />In a medium bowl, combine flours, salt, baking soda, baking powder, cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg and whisk thoroughly. In a separate large bowl, whisk together the sugars with the eggs, then add oil, yogurt, vanilla, and lemon zest, mixing to combine thoroughly. Add zucchini and carrots to the liquid mixture and mix to combine. Add the dry mix to the liquid mix and stir until just combined (do not over-mix). Fold in chocolate chips. <br /><br />Divide batter evenly into prepared muffin cups. Bake until tops are browned and springy, about 20-25 minutes. Cool in pan set on a wire rack for 10 minutes, then remove muffin to rack to finish cooling.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2285607305189235814.post-7067503401463918792009-04-24T15:12:00.006+12:002009-04-24T16:46:59.715+12:00Bingeing on blueberriesI took Isaac to a pick-your-own blueberry farm this weekend. It was about an hour's drive out of Wellington, and it was gorgeous. We walked from a bushy hillside down to a grassy clearing where a small stream lazily babbled its way through the property. Birds were chirping, bees were humming - could this place be any more idyllic? In a word, no. It was so lovely there, in fact, that I've already planned to buy the farm from its current owner when I'm ready to retire. If she won't sell, I'm just going to have to plan a hostile takeover. <br /><br /><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gourmette/3470119724/" title="04-22-2009 024 by gourmette, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3630/3470119724_043c4f673d.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="04-22-2009 024" /></a></center><br /><br />Bucket full of delicious blueberries, I set off for home, my mind near the point of exploding with the possibilities of 2 1/2 pounds of blueberries. I normally can't stand cooked fruit, especially berries. I feel like they are such a precious commodity that to cook them only adulterates their pure flavor and texture. Then again, 2 1/2 pounds is a lot of blueberries. Blueberry pie was the most obvious way to use up so many yummy berries, but we're set to go out of town in a day, and pie doesn't travel well. Sadly. So, I'll just have to make blueberry muffins with some of them and eat the rest by hand.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gourmette/3470122080/" title="04-24-2009 002 by gourmette, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3493/3470122080_0f7b6a60ae.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="04-24-2009 002" /></a></center><br /><br />I love muffins. I love that my son eats them when he won't eat anything else. I love that they're excellent road food. And I love this recipe I found in Gourmet. It's tender, it's sweet but not too sweet, it looks gorgeous, and it's bursting with blueberries. <br /><br /><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gourmette/3469309595/" title="04-24-2009 019 by gourmette, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3615/3469309595_97c8862f1e.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="04-24-2009 019" /></a></center><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Blueberry Muffins<br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;">adapted from Gourmet, Sept. 2003</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><br />Muffins:<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span>6 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted<br />1/3 c. buttermilk (or whole milk)<br />1 whole egg, plus 1 egg yolk<br />1 teaspoon vanilla<br />1 1/2 c. all-purpose flour<br />3/4 c. sugar<br />1 1/2 teaspoon baking powder<br />1 teaspoon salt<br />1 1/2 c. fresh blueberries<br /><br />Topping:<br />3 tablespoons chilled unsalted butter, cut into 1/2" cubes<br />1/2 c. flour<br />1/4 c. sugar<br />1 teaspoon cinnamon<br /><br />To make muffins: Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Line or grease a 12-cup muffin tin. Sift together flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt in a large bowl. In a separate bowl, whisk together melted butter and buttermilk, then add eggs and vanilla, mixing thoroughly. Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients, mixing just until combined. Gently fold in blueberries. Divide batter evenly between 12 cups. Set aside.<br /><br />To make topping: In a bowl, rub together the butter, flour, sugar, and cinnamon until mixture resembles coarse meal. Sprinkle topping evenly over batter in cups, pressing down gently to adhere. <br /><br />Bake muffins until tops are golden, about 18-20 minutes. Cool on rack 10 minutes, then remove muffins from tin to finish cooling on rack.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2285607305189235814.post-5588752608651764842009-04-20T09:34:00.001+12:002009-04-20T22:30:22.675+12:00Brrrrr...It's really cold. And windy. And rainy. These are days for wearing oversized hoodies and fitted fuzzy slippers, keeping a near-constant pot of boiling water on the stove for hot tea and hot chocolate, and eating nothing but warm comfort food. Should you happen to find yourself stranded in the middle of a similarly cold, bleak day wherever you are, I think it would be wise for you to make this: Pasta with Caramelized Onion Sauce.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH-7AgN9iZ0q4vDbikZ8g7i1zxI9uev8qRKrmU-fcFQf85lD6wimBQMFIG2pXaXu73QN8muLvBqt3fjtMeEMnAR-NAsgcvqlLE7gQjqa3oDZLttr9C4Wfd6FSwxXfMhY5BdJLGz_9XKHYq/s1600-h/04-09-2009+015.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH-7AgN9iZ0q4vDbikZ8g7i1zxI9uev8qRKrmU-fcFQf85lD6wimBQMFIG2pXaXu73QN8muLvBqt3fjtMeEMnAR-NAsgcvqlLE7gQjqa3oDZLttr9C4Wfd6FSwxXfMhY5BdJLGz_9XKHYq/s400/04-09-2009+015.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326718814475302306" border="0" /></a><br />The way a large skillet full of onions can ever so slowly cook down to a magical sauce of burnished goodness is, in my book, amazing. Each onion simply melts on your tongue, releasing its sweetness and caramelized depth in stages. You just feel warm when you eat this. It's not a low-fat dish by a long stretch, but its warm, comforting embrace in your belly will have you forgiving that little detail pretty quickly. It's not a quick-cooking dish, either, but its simplicity and the sweet aroma that will fill your house will also have you acting more patient than you've likely been in a long time.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJAsCVh8rsryYTesn0XNci8t-jVApL9XjyEFLFV06Ah3hVORwRsBrYdxMqiARqRS7qX4deALQJWygdNrR3MxK36bymcOz9VjCCUO-eWgj9OgGeKXfbx4y9rWFOrqymYtDJMUMKHS-PO9V_/s1600-h/04-09-2009+005.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJAsCVh8rsryYTesn0XNci8t-jVApL9XjyEFLFV06Ah3hVORwRsBrYdxMqiARqRS7qX4deALQJWygdNrR3MxK36bymcOz9VjCCUO-eWgj9OgGeKXfbx4y9rWFOrqymYtDJMUMKHS-PO9V_/s400/04-09-2009+005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326718918673207874" border="0" /></a><br />This recipe originally calls for some Madeira instead of the stock and balsamic vinegar. We are a no-booze household, so it's sometimes challenging (and frankly, a little sad) to have to find adequate substitutes for it in recipes. Mine seemed to work pretty well in this case, though, and we all thoroughly enjoyed the flavors.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Pasta with Caramelized Onion Sauce</span><br />Adapted from <a href="http://orangette.blogspot.com/2008/05/entirely-unmannerly.html">Orangette</a>, who adapted from James Beard<br /><br />8 Tbsp. (4 oz., or 1 stick) unsalted butter<br />1 ½ lb. yellow onions, halved and sliced about ¼-inch thick<br />1 tablespoon sugar<br />¼ cup chicken or vegetable stock<br />1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar<br />¾ lb. short pasta, cooked according to package<br />Salt<br />Grated Parmesan<br /><br />In a large (12-inch) skillet, warm the butter over medium heat. Add the onions and cook, stirring occasionally, until they are soft and translucent. Stir in the sugar, reduce the heat to low or medium-low, and cook the onions very gently for about 1 hour, stirring occasionally. (Do not cook them too quickly or over too high heat, or they will get dry and papery.) As they cook, they will become meltingly soft and juicy, and they should caramelize to a deep shade of amber. Stir in the stock and vinegar, cook for about 5 minutes for flavors to absorb, and then add the pasta to the pan. Toss pasta well with the sauce.<br /><br />Serve with a generous sprinkling of salt and some grated cheese.<br /><br />Yield: about 4 servingsUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2285607305189235814.post-2804828827886126942009-04-13T18:12:00.014+12:002009-04-21T13:43:18.085+12:00Special treatmentWhen I think of luxury, I don't typically think of mansions, Bentleys, or formal balls. No sir, luxury in my mind is more like fluffy pillows, cozy slippers, and food. Good food. Warm food. Comfy food. I think of things like fresh-from-the-oven scones slathered with clotted cream and jam, eaten in one's pajamas on a chilly morning. The warmth, that delicate texture that crumbles lightly in your mouth. The way the whole house smells delicious for hours afterward. This is the stuff perfect, lazy mornings are made of. And what better a way to welcome my sister-in-law and her family than with a warm batch of cranberry-orange scones? Anyone willing to fly over 13 hours overnight with two layovers to visit us certainly deserves a little luxury, don't you think? Did I mention they're traveling with a toddler? Yep, luxury.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihk2MgBe_a1zbkz_EMbQ1fJDWECLG9b5NqtbTTRj9BsN9t0yHjVMM-F0Zmuq4GkyIcy2H2bXEGao9-Bh9ZJAICRqDHG9YT75zbmPTW6nS2RQ0E3lNYYOmAoIsaNUogDc8YMu5iSIefaeL0/s1600-h/04-19-2009+066.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihk2MgBe_a1zbkz_EMbQ1fJDWECLG9b5NqtbTTRj9BsN9t0yHjVMM-F0Zmuq4GkyIcy2H2bXEGao9-Bh9ZJAICRqDHG9YT75zbmPTW6nS2RQ0E3lNYYOmAoIsaNUogDc8YMu5iSIefaeL0/s400/04-19-2009+066.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326717708720782194" border="0" /></a><br />After hours of scouring various cook books, magazines, and websites trying to decipher exactly what constituted a scone (pronounced "skawn" by most of Great Britain) and what made it different from a biscuit served with gravy, I finally came up with my own recipe. It makes a very tender scone that isn't too sweet at all - perfect for all that jam I'm sure you'll be slathering on. Oh, and my favorite part? It's perfect for the freezer, both before and after baking! It's great for early morning breakfasts - just place the scones (unbaked) on the prepared pan the night before, pop them in the freezer, covered, and transfer to the oven straight from the freezer the following morning. Or later that week. Or month. Of the times I've made scones, the results are always best when I bake them from a frozen state. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibi1WkIAC7Yq8zRpfJ9KnUo02hsKRKOhSCpW0GmFx-asYPVeYSLJ9jcmqZyTAuzEO4s7-aIQ1EWrbluIbfWVTfzCHvxF_4jjOjpKST6P772smRl5X1yKz6r40z7rmPmTuPJUTZhZ-4Tf6S/s1600-h/04-19-2009+070.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibi1WkIAC7Yq8zRpfJ9KnUo02hsKRKOhSCpW0GmFx-asYPVeYSLJ9jcmqZyTAuzEO4s7-aIQ1EWrbluIbfWVTfzCHvxF_4jjOjpKST6P772smRl5X1yKz6r40z7rmPmTuPJUTZhZ-4Tf6S/s400/04-19-2009+070.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326718060652643586" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Cranberry-Orange Scones</span><br />This recipe is incredibly versatile. I hear tangerine is also a lovely partner for cranberries. If you're not feeling citrusy, simply omit the orange components and increase the amount of buttermilk to compensate. Don't like cranberries? Use dried currants or cherries, or go entirely without. Love chocolate chips? Go for it! Get the point? Now get baking!<br /><ul><li>3 cups all purpose flour</li><li>1/4 cup granulated sugar</li><li>2 teaspoons baking powder</li><li>1 teaspoon salt</li><li>1/2 teaspoon baking soda</li><li>zest of one large orange (about 2 tablespoons)<br /></li><li>4 oz (1 stick) chilled unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch pieces</li><li>3/4 cup dried cranberries, chopped</li><li>1 large egg, lightly beaten<br /></li><li>3/4 cup chilled buttermilk</li><li>1/4 cup chilled freshly squeezed orange juice<br /></li></ul>Preheat oven to 400°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.<br /><br />Sift dry ingredients into a large bowl, then mix in orange zest and whisk until evenly distributed. Add butter and rub in with fingertips until mixture resembles coarse meal. This is not the time to be OCD about uniformity - it's okay to have some larger chunks of butter (aim for pea-sized, more or less). Mix in dried cranberries.<br /><br />Mix egg and buttermilk together, reserving about 2 tablespoons for the glaze. Stir in the orange juice. Gradually add the wet mixture to the dry mixture, tossing gently with a fork until moist clumps form.<br /><br />Turn dough out onto lightly a floured work surface. Knead briefly to bind dough, about 4 turns. Dough will likely be a little wet and sticky - just flour your hands and not the dough. Form dough into 1-inch-thick square. Cut into 9 equal squares (like a hash mark), then cut each square diagonally to form 2 smaller triangles (total of 18 scones). Or, if you can't be fussed, just pat the whole thing into a circular disk (1 inch thick) and slice it into 8-12 wedges. Transfer to prepared baking sheet, spacing 2 inches apart. (Can be prepared up to this point and frozen, covered, on pan) <br /><br />Brush tops with reserved egg wash. Bake until tops of scones are golden brown, about 10-20 minutes. Let stand on baking sheet 5 minutes. Serve scones warm or at room temperature. I recommend jam and clotted cream - lots of it!<br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge0nfncySFHOoQZq941h52b5079CKdwQNdVOlzmSS3WiG6cZZSL8wMiH0VRDReGbEZzQ4UgyUSwqk1uJy9OrsPrWM6M53WRJVCK237pAYzG911JhEs8r16-k45_X4b76kgR6iK17vAaEVy/s1600-h/04-19-2009+077.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge0nfncySFHOoQZq941h52b5079CKdwQNdVOlzmSS3WiG6cZZSL8wMiH0VRDReGbEZzQ4UgyUSwqk1uJy9OrsPrWM6M53WRJVCK237pAYzG911JhEs8r16-k45_X4b76kgR6iK17vAaEVy/s400/04-19-2009+077.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326718357627267890" border="0" /></a><br />Speaking of clotted cream, unless you live in Great Britain, it's probably a little hard to come by. Or, if you live in New Zealand, it's impossible to come by. Not to worry - clotted cream is easy to make! Just get some unpasteurized cream, let it sit out for 12 hours, heat it gently over low heat until it isn't quite boiling, then let it sit out again overnight. Piece of cake! If you don't happen to live on a farm where you have access to unpasteurized anything, you could do <a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/alton-brown/clotted-cream-recipe/index.html">Alton Brown's method</a> with a coffee filter. Or, if you're like me and you don't drink coffee (nor do you feel like buying a coffee filter for this express purpose), you can do this:<br /><br />In a small saucepan, put 2 cups pasteurized (not ultra-pasteurized) heavy cream on the lowest heat setting possible until a skin forms and the surface just begins to ripple on the edges (do not let it boil). Remove from heat and let it sit uncovered in a cool place (fridge works fine) overnight. In the morning, carefully skim the top part (the clotted cream) off the surface. Mix it up and add some liquid cream from the pot, mixing until everything is smooth and combined and has the consistency of very thick whipped cream. It may not taste too phenomenal on its own, but it will transform your scones into something magical when served with a bit of strawberry jam. Enjoy!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2285607305189235814.post-64605736921733790732009-04-11T01:05:00.010+12:002009-05-15T07:55:12.619+12:00The best way to heat your homeI woke up this morning with popsicle toes. I could hardly stand to let Isaac wrap his frigid little fingers around my warm(ish) neck when I got him out of his crib. It was even colder downstairs. I thought this place was insulated! There’s only one thing to do in this kind of weather: <strong>BAKE SOMETHING!!</strong> And quickly! <p>Let’s see, what to make? I had some leftover Valrhona cocoa powder that I’ve been dying to use, and chocolate seemed like a good flavor for this kind of weather. A cake seemed to smack of time and effort, and the point of this exercise was to heat up the house <em>now</em>. It seemed a little blasphemous to mingle such high quality cocoa powder with such less-than-high-quality solid chocolate for brownies.<br /></p><p>It looked like the criteria would have to be<br />a) quick prep time - we're talking near-instant gratification here;<br />b) easy to make (i.e. didn’t require a machine or pots);<br />c) didn’t require any ingredients to sit around to reach room temperature; and<br />d) used only cocoa powder as the flavoring. The solution was… THESE!</p><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip7iO2XH87Pr_E87G2nyNyUylwr2Embf2n1N2iGO-zsV7J5DG6G5KX4U4P0jc6H1wmGr5LmYOKUS7Vd6udvEMOA_QMbAxPPP80e5npqJMz3ULimaMHWdfq6ODqw1DGaKWT1LKKNqYabeIB/s1600-h/04-01-2009-021.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 401px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip7iO2XH87Pr_E87G2nyNyUylwr2Embf2n1N2iGO-zsV7J5DG6G5KX4U4P0jc6H1wmGr5LmYOKUS7Vd6udvEMOA_QMbAxPPP80e5npqJMz3ULimaMHWdfq6ODqw1DGaKWT1LKKNqYabeIB/s320/04-01-2009-021.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323058251714264178" border="0" /></a></p><p>Chewy cocoa cookies with chocolate chips! In a word: I’veDiedAndGoneToHeavenIt’sSoGood.</p><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG9rBNRKhoeWCT-Avtv22NyK9CxynkQa6mexohB0eKY9-OHPHwRuv4KRsZu-DRWuHuCl7ryx9A8sFKuZarWj2C3cATot653IRuJRqsaqmr6rwEMgNWi9cy11eIY2x8tfT_k1skfCegzX2G/s1600-h/04-01-2009-015.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 450px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG9rBNRKhoeWCT-Avtv22NyK9CxynkQa6mexohB0eKY9-OHPHwRuv4KRsZu-DRWuHuCl7ryx9A8sFKuZarWj2C3cATot653IRuJRqsaqmr6rwEMgNWi9cy11eIY2x8tfT_k1skfCegzX2G/s320/04-01-2009-015.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323058788966081042" border="0" /></a></p><p>I think these might be my new dream cookie. So quick and easy to put together, dirties very few dishes, mixed by hand, and most importantly, DELICIOUS! The crisp outer shell yields to a dense, chewy, oh-so-chocolatey interior. It’s moist, it’s got plenty of chocolate punch, it's moderately health-ish (yogurt's good for you, right?), and it’s not cloyingly sweet like too many chocolate goodies tend to be. The cinnamon served to deepen the chocolate flavor without making its presence a nuisance. Can anyone ask for more? My house is not only pleasantly toasty downstairs now, but the air is also spiked with the heady aroma of chocolate. Do yourself a favor and go make this. Right now.</p><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNABT0CsCZHWvvICx63SjrVTHD6oddvjlJ8KCt6N3aIBIAVjd3bK_Vg0TfGvajdVm41HKqyu4PYBSMs313kkWDO0sgGghtP0ZJcI_-B5fYbJ72u2qdKIZ8yPV_N8y3p0E3XqHr-MK_7bvD/s1600-h/04-01-2009-007.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 443px; height: 295px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNABT0CsCZHWvvICx63SjrVTHD6oddvjlJ8KCt6N3aIBIAVjd3bK_Vg0TfGvajdVm41HKqyu4PYBSMs313kkWDO0sgGghtP0ZJcI_-B5fYbJ72u2qdKIZ8yPV_N8y3p0E3XqHr-MK_7bvD/s320/04-01-2009-007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323058460298586818" border="0" /></a></p><p><span style="font-weight: bold;">Chewy Cocoa Cookies with Chocolate Chips</span><br />Adapted from <a href="http://orangette.blogspot.com/2007/10/d-e-s-s-e-r-t.html">Orangette</a>, who adapted from Alice Medrich<br /><br />These should keep for several days in an airtight container (though they haven't yet made it past the 2-day mark in this house, and that's when we <span style="font-style: italic;">try</span> to exercise will power!). The amount of cocoa doesn't have to be too exact; just stay near the 1/2 cup mark. Also, don't be tempted to add more cinnamon - the idea is for you not to really taste it.<br /><br />1 cup all-purpose flour<br />¼ tsp. baking soda<br />1/8 tsp. salt<br />1/8 tsp. cinnamon<br />4 Tbsp. (2 oz or 50 g) unsalted butter<br />1/2 cup granulated sugar<br />1/2 cup light brown sugar<br />scant 1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder<br />1/3 cup plain yogurt, not nonfat<br />1 tsp. vanilla extract<br />½ cup semisweet chocolate chips<br /><br />Preheat the oven to 350°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or a silicone liner.<br /><br />In a small bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon.<br /><br />Melt butter in a medium bowl. Add the sugars and cocoa to the melted butter. (Sift cocoa if it is lumpy) Stir until mixture is blended and has the consistency of thick paste. Add the yogurt and vanilla and stir to mix thoroughly. Add the dry flour mixture and chocolate chips, and stir to just combine.<br /><br />Drop dough by generous tablespoons 2 inches apart onto the prepared baking sheet. Bake for 9 to 11 minutes, or until the tops of the cookies have crackled slightly and look set. Allow cookies to cool in the pan on a wire rack for 10 minutes, then transfer them to the rack to cool completely. Repeat with remaining dough.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Yields approx. 2 dozen</span><br /><span style=""><span style=""></span></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2285607305189235814.post-58524831583456567772009-04-08T13:07:00.008+12:002009-04-20T21:23:49.687+12:00About The Gourmette<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMvaYZFl36PyQXD7YqHkfb_Zyzr4HqEO_5S4fJstb70yjivyEfeqwmWF5ZDyGk0bb5kakCsXwjRmVZvNvykSchxTqLgu9ccSzpEWMMADkJBllirN3RxGiNC84Jvd13Qy5HJGssZpgJswp3/s1600-h/03192009-096.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 153px; height: 144px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMvaYZFl36PyQXD7YqHkfb_Zyzr4HqEO_5S4fJstb70yjivyEfeqwmWF5ZDyGk0bb5kakCsXwjRmVZvNvykSchxTqLgu9ccSzpEWMMADkJBllirN3RxGiNC84Jvd13Qy5HJGssZpgJswp3/s200/03192009-096.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322121752853079890" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Maxine Parrish here. Welcome to my blog!<br /><br />I'm wild about food. I'm also wild about my husband Collin and our son Isaac. Once upon a time I taught lots of children at a school in Los Angeles, California. Now I spend my days (and nights) teaching my one toddler in Wellington, New Zealand. I like to spend my free time planning, obsessing over, and creating meals and goodies. This is an outlet for those obsessive moments, as well as motivation to <span style="font-style: italic;">keep cooking</span>. As free time is always scarce with a young child at home, my food tends to be quick and simple, with an emphasis on fresh ingredients - anything that can be prepared while your toddler uses your legs as a maypole.<br /><br />Why <span style="font-style: italic;">The Gourmette</span>? <span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>I think it's quite fitting. In French, the suffix <span style="font-style: italic;">-ette </span>is used to denote a smaller version of the main word. While I do have a love of all things fine and yummy, I definitely wouldn't profess myself to be a full gourmet - yet. Hence, the more modest descriptor. I also think it's funny when people mispronounce <span style="font-style: italic;">gourmet</span>. So there you go.<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span><br /><br />All pictures are taken by me on a Canon 450D, unless otherwise noted. I'll be flattered if you want to use any of my images, but please email first for permission (hi res copies available for most images).</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"> You can contact me at: thegourmette [at] gmail [dot] com</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0