The Barefoot Kitchen Witch

Chocolate Zucchini Bread

Something had to be done.  We've been picking zucchini on a daily basis now, and so far we've been using everything in savory dishes...grilled zucchini, for example.  But there's only so many times a week (or a day) we want to eat it after a while, so I said I'd make zucchini bread to use up some of the excess.

I know I mentioned this before somewhere in this blog, but many years ago I used up a TON of zucchini from someone's garden by making 17 different kinds (yes, seventeen) of zucchini bread, all pulled from the various cookbooks I owned at the time.  I ended up with 23 loaves.  I froze most and gave some away. 

One of the more memorable recipes was for a Chocolate Zucchini Bread.  It wasn't a sweet bread, not like, say, a carrot cake.  It was moist, and flavorful, and utilized a cup of shredded zucchini per loaf. 

I looked and looked, and found the recipe in the book Fast Breads!  by Howard Early and Glenda Morris on pgs. 66-67.  The recipe is actually for a Chocolate Potato Bread, but in a couple of paragraphs after they original recipe, they suggest substituting a cup of zucchini for the potato. 

And since we had a bunch of zucchini, I figured I should make more than just one loaf. 

So I made four. 

 

So in the photos, you'll see HUGE amounts of the ingredients, but keep in mind the list of ingredients below is only for ONE batch.  Just figured I'd mention that, just in case.

So here we go with the recipe.

Wet Ingredients:

1 C shredded zucchini

3/4 cup skim milk

1/2 cup oil

1/2 tsp vanilla extract

2 eggs

(By the way, if you want to see all of the pictures like these two, head over here.)

1 oz melted or grated unsweetened chocolate (I grated mine right into the bowl of wet ingredients)

Dry Ingredients:

2  1/2 cups unbleached flour

1/2 cup sugar

1/2 tsp salt

1/2 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp baking soda

What to do:

Combine the wet ingredients.

Combine the dry ingredients.

Mix together the dry and wet ingredients. 

Pour into a greased medium-sized loaf pan.

Bake at 350 degrees F for 50-60 minutes.

Let the bread cool for 10 minutes before removing it from the pan.

And enjoy!  I gave one loaf to our friends across the street, froze two, and we're in the process of eating the other one.

And the zucchini is still coming.  There will be more zucchini recipes to come....

Any Guesses?

And no, I didn't use a macro lens for this shot.

If you'd like to see more from this batch, you can see them here.

If you're more interested in the recipe, Chocolate Zucchini Bread, then go on over here.

TWD (Tuesdays With Dorie)...WWJ (Wednesdays With Jayne)...Summer Fruit Galette

You know, this recipe, found on pages 366 and 367 of Dorie Greenspan's Baking: From My Home to Yours, calls for fruits like apricots, peaches, nectarines, plums...that sort of thing.  And I would have loved to use any one of them.  But.  I'm drowning in blueberries.  I really am.  We've been picking blueberries over at my nephew's place, pounds of berries at a time, really.  And there are tons more that are still white-green.  So I'll be picking berries for a while longer. 

And so that's why my galette is full of blueberries. 

There are a few raspberries in there, too. 

I had a half pint left from my last trip to the farmers' market, and I thought this would be a nice use for them.  But mostly, it's all about the blueberries lately.  Which you may have noticed if you visit this site on any kind of regular basis.

Anyway - this week's Tuesdays With Dorie recipe was the Summer Fruit Galette, chosen by Michelle of Michelle in Colorado Springs, and it's scrumptios.  Especially for breakfast.  Which is how we ate ours.

The crust is Dorie's fabulous "Good for Almost Everything Pie Dough" - it's the blend of butter and shortening that gives this crust the tenderness AND flakiness we all (in TWD, at least) know and love by this point.  The filling is simply a smear of jam, a sprinkle of graham cracker grumbs, and fruit.  And the little extra something is the drizzle of custard on fruit called for about fifteen minutes before the galette is finished.

My son was drooling so much before I served this (and yes, we really did have this for breakfast this morning) that we had to lay bath towels on the floor.  He loves blueberries.  He loves pie.  When he saw this before it went into the oven, he wanted to eat it then and there.  I made him wait.

But I'm getting ahead of things.  The dough, as usual, was very cooperative when I rolled it out and marked a 9" diameter circle in the center and trimmed the rough edges.

And then smeared some blueberry jam (farmers's market) and sprinkled some graham crackers crumbs...

And then piled on the raspberries and as many blueberries as I could.

And then folded up the edges...

And finally brushed the dough with water and sprinkled on some sparkling sugar before I put the whole thing into the oven.

While the galette baked, I made the custard.  Very simple - just sugar, eggs, vanilla, and melted butter.

All whisked together...

...and drizzled in and around the fruit inside the galette about half an hour into the baking.

Fifteen more minutes...

During this time you can amuse yourself taking pictures of the melted bits of sugar on the parchment paper...

and taking macro shots of the berries.

Finally the galette emerges...golden brown on the edges, bubbly and sweet in the middle.  And scalding hot, so you'll need to let it cool a bit before serving.

Try to be patient.

Like I said, we had this for breakfast. 

Dorie's recipe serves 6, and my son at not only his, (and no, it wasn't his birthday or anything.  I have no explanation for the paper crown) but his sister's leftovers as well. 

She wasn't all that hungry, apparently.

You've probably already done this, but if you haven't, go check out the variations concocted by all the other eight and a half million (or so) TWD members posted (on time, on Tuesday.  Like we're supposed to do.).  And then go buy the book and make your own galette.  For breakfast!  Why not?  It's fruit!

Operation Baking GALS

Last week - Thursday or Friday, I think it was, I got an email from Susan of She's Becoming DoughMessTic. 

I wasn't the only one she'd sent this to - there were about twenty or so of us on the list.

And she mentioned a cousin who is now stationed in Iraq, and would we be at all interested in baking a batch of cookies each, and sending them to her cousin over there for him to share with the other members of his division.  And could we all maybe ship them out the following Tuesday or Wednesday?

Would we? 

Hell, yes!

I wrote back immediately to say I was in, and told her about my nephew in the Air Guard who has just recently (and unexpectedly) gone to Afghanistan after already completing his tour in Iraq.  And could we maybe send cookies to him next?  Or soon? 

And that's how it started for me.  Just that one email from Susan.  And now - within less than a week, we are a fast-growing group, Susan's created a website just for this project - Operation Baking GALS - (GALS stands for Give A Little Support), and who knows what's next.  Other than more and more batches of cookies.

If you're interested in participating, go on over to the Operation Baking GALS site to get more details, or send Susan an email at bakingGALS at gmail dot com.

I baked a batch of Snickerdoodles to send for this first shipment.  I haven't made them in years, and I'm not sure why I picked them except that they are simple and smell fabulous while they're cooking, and they smell of home.  Vanilla.  Cinnamon.  Close your eyes and breathe deeply - home. 

Here's the recipe I used.  It's from an old Better Homes and Gardens "Homemade Cookies" book I've had for ages.

If you'd like to bake up a batch of these, here's what you'll need:

1 stick of butter

1  1/2 cups all purpose flour

1 cup sugar

1 egg

1/2 tsp vanilla

1/4 tsp baking soda

1/4 tsp cream of tartar

and for the cinnamon/sugar - 2 T sugar and 1 tsp cinnamon.

Oops, almost forgot the egg...

Anyway, all you do is, first, cream the butter and sugar in your mixing bowl.  Then add in the egg, vanilla, baking soda, cream of tartar, and about half of the flour.  Mix well.  Then stir in the remainder of the flour until it's just combined - you don't want the gluten in the flour getting all strong and elastic as you would for a bread.

Next, scrape the dough into a smaller bowl, cover, and refrigerate about an hour.

When the dough has chilled, preheat your oven to 375 degrees F.

Combine 2 T granulated sugar with 1 tsp cinnamon in a shallow bowl.

Form little balls with the dough, about an inch in diameter (I made mine smaller - about 3/4 of an inch) and then roll the balls in the cinnamon sugar and place on a parchment-lined baking pan.

Bake about 10 minutes, or until the edges are just beginning to turn golden brown.

Allow to cool completely before packaging.

*If necessary, like if you have errands to run and you don't want your family to eat them while you're gone, even though they've been told not to, it's maybe a good idea to leave a few - SPECIALLY MARKED for your family (particularly if you have young children who might not get the whole "for someone else" notion, especially when the cookies are RIGHT THERE, within easy reach).  That's what I did.

And it worked. 

The cookies on the top were untouched when I got back home.

Amazingly, there were still three left below.

That was yesterday.

This morning, Julia and I brought the cookies (from the top rack) to the post office and shipped them out. 

I hope they make it over okay.

And by the way, Susan?

Brilliant and beautiful idea you had, there!

You have a huge heart.  (I was going to say a heart of gold, but considering the baking theme, it's more like sparkling sugar.)

Anyway, again, if any of you reading this are interested in participating, head on over to the website - Operation Baking GALS - and sign on!

Running Late This Morning

With EVERYTHING, it seems.  So TWD posting will be later on today at some point, I THINK. 

I blame these two:

Sure, they look all sweet and drowsy, but don't let that fool you. 

By the way, Scratchy is settling in nicely and allowed Alex to pet him and pick him up without drawing any blood.  So things are good.

These photos were taken on our couch in the basement.  Both kittens were sitting with my kids, just chillin' out, watching cartoons, and drifting off to sleep.  The kittens.  My kids?  They don't believe in sleep.

Detour

Oddly enough, it was the expression on Bill's face that started the whole thing.

I had steeled myself against any emotions, any bending of will, any...softness. 

But then he looked over at me with that...that look. 

All my steel crumbled.

And things spiraled off in a very different direction from any we could have imagined this morning.

But that came later.

First thing today, we set off, with the kids, to go pick yet more blueberries.  I picked around five pounds or so this morning - not as many as last time, but we didn't stay as long, either.

Next, big treat for the kids, we got Ronald McD food and ATE IT IN THE CAR.

Yes.  Ate it in the car while we drove to Attleboro to go to the Capron Park Zoo.  The kids and I all had our cameras, naturally, and what a sweet little zoo it was.  Kind of like our own beloved Roger Williams Park Zoo, only smaller.  And their big draw, at least at the moment, is that they have a white lion.  He's not purely white, but definitely white in comparison to his two tawny female cohorts. 

 

His name is Ramses.

The lionesses are Nyala and Kayla.  I don't know which is which.

There were also the usual (I'm so jaded) emus and kangaroos and tortoises (tortoi?)...and a really nice little Tropical Rain Forest with all kinds of interesting looking birds...

Like this one...

And this one...

And especially this one...

Not to mention these two...

The most entertaining creatures (besides the two pictured above) were the sea otters in the North America section.  They were playing and splashing about in the water, just having a grand old time. 

I kind of wanted to jump in there and play with them...

Anyway, after we saw all the animals, Bill and the kids had some lemonade.  Bill had your traditional lemon-flavored lemonade.

Julia had cherry...

And Alex had raspberry.

Scary, I know.

And then the kids played for a while on the Capron Park Zoo's huge playground.  Bill and I hung out in the shade. 

And then we all trooped back to the car.

As we were leaving, Bill asked if I wanted to stop at the gardening place and I said no, because I thought he meant the little garden area on the Capron Park land.  Then I realized he meant this organic gardening supply store, and I said okay.  I love the smell of farm stuff.

The store was just a few minutes' drive from the zoo, so we were there quickly.  We all got out and headed in.  The store is in a big old barn, and with all the hay and feed and seed, it smells pleasant (to me) and earthy and inviting.  The main "store" part was through a door to the right.  Inside, they had organic pet foods, wild bird seed, and, over by the cash registers, canning supplies.  I didn't even get a look at the rest of the store - who knows what other goodies they had in stock.

We wandered up an aisle, and I tried to keep the kids close by - they had zipped up the aisle to my left.  We met up at the end of the shelves, near a rustic, spiral staircase in the corner.  And build into the underside of the stairs was a large cage.  And down at the bottom of the cage, the kids saw these:

Alex wanted to take a picture of them with his camera, so I took one with mine, too, as a backup, in case his didn't come out okay.  Of course, no one was there to back me up, and mine isn't all that great either, now that I look at it.

Bill went back out to the seed n feed area to read organic fertilizer labels and a few minutes later the kids wandered around a corner and discovered these guys:

(Again, I took a picture in case Alex's was blurry...but mine isn't so sharp either.)

I kept telling him, it's not a zoo!  You don't need to take pictures!  But he didn't listen.

The two kittens were more interesting anyway.  Probably because they had more room to move around.  The bunnies - there were five or six of them - were in a pretty small cage.

Bill still wasn't back, and I was ready to get going, so the kids and I went looking for him.  He wasn't out there in the sweet-hay-smelling outer area, so we went back in, peeked up and down the aisles, and then the kids lost interest and went back to watch the kittens.  I told them to stay put and went back down one aisle to look in the wild bird seed room.  And that's where he was.  Just standing there.  He's decided to go completely organic with the lawn (we're already organic in the vegetable gardens and about 90% with the flowers, so this was inevitable, but he has to make these DECISIONS sometimes).  I said "Great.  We didn't know where you were, by the way." (I'm sweet, I know) And headed back to make sure the kids hadn't been sold to a traveling circus.

Bill, he of the longer legs, moved on ahead of me and saw the kids playing with the kittens, their small fingers poking through the chicken wire.

And that's when it began.

That's when he turned, and looked at me, and gave me that look.

The look that said "They're so unbearably cute!"

And I looked back at him sympathetically, because yes, they were.  The kittens.  And the kids.  And especially the kids IN COMBINATION WITH the kittens.

And then we had an entire conversation with our eyes and eyebrows. 

It went something like this:

Him:  They're so cute!

Me:  I know...sigh.

Him:  Wouldn't it be fun to bring them home?  The kittens, I mean.

Me:  Yeah, it would.  Ah well.  Some day.  (Inside I was all "ohmygodohmygodpleasepleasepleasethey'resoCUTE!!!")

Him:  Yeah, you're right.

Me:  Why...were you thinking of...?

Him:  Mmmmmmmmmmmm...wellllllllllllllllllllll....I don't know maybe................

Me:  Well if YOU want to...

Him:  Hmmmmm

Me:  We'd have to take them both.

Him:  (no expression, but I found out later he'd thought the same thing from the start)

Me:  They're probably brother and sister (by way of explaining why we would need both)

Him:  (I must be losing my mind) Mmmmmmmmmmm

Me:  ??????????????????

Him:  I can't believe we're going to do this.

Me:  HEE HEE HEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Me either.

Really.  Okay, NEARLY all of that was done with eyes and eyebrows.  The actual whispered words started with me saying we'd have to take both.  Also, at some point, the kids came over, chattering about the kittens, and we shooed them away so we could hold a terse, loudly whispered conference.

And that's what happened today.  Totally out of the blue.  Bill went over to talk to the people behind the register, and I hung out with the kids, giddily not saying a word about what was going on.  It was so much fun.  The KNOWING and their NOT knowing what was to come.  I love that feeling.

The owner of the store came over to where the kids and I were, and he had one of those little red laser things - he directed the little red spot of light onto the floor in front of the kittens and we watched them bat at it with their tiny paws.  Alex begged for a turn.  And then Julia did.

And then Bill came over, and right about then, Alex turned to say he WISHED we could bring one of the kittens home.

And we said "Okay.  How about both?"

And his eyes and mouth became enormous Os, and I'm telling you that look of stunned joy already forgives any damage the kittens do to my hands and legs as they learn when to use their claws and when not to.

Alex told Julia, but it took a bit longer for the message to sink in with her.

Next up, time to get the kittens - they are brother and sister - out of their cage and into a couple of boxes for the journey home.  The owner picked up the little gray one - the girl - and brought her into the room where the cash registers were.  She was bundled into a cardboard box with some slits cut into the sides, and the top was taped shut.  Another man came over to get the white-with-assorted-spots-and-patterns one.  That one was the boy.  And that one was NOT pleased AT ALL to have his routine interrupted.  He flailed his legs out, kind of like a lobster splaying his big claws and stretching out his tail right before you put him in the pot of boiling water.  His little claws were out, too, and he ripped the man's hand pretty deeply a couple times until the man let go and the little guy scurried behind a barrel of dog biscuits.  The girl behind the register came around and got the kitten by the scruff of his neck, and he didn't scratch her at all.  He, too, was popped into a newly ventilated cardboard box and locked in with a strip of packing tape.

I filled out paperwork while Alex and Julia laughed at the selection of greeting cards in a rack nearby.  Bill stood nearby, a dazed look on his face and a free bag of kitten food in his arms.  The kittens have already been seen by a vet and have had their first round of shots.  We got vouchers for about half price for their future spay and neuter adventures.

And home we went.  The two kitten boxes on my lap.  I tried to send out soothing, loving thoughts to the little male.  The girl behind the register had told us he tended to be a bit shy at first.  That's okay.  I'm good with shy kittens.

We drove home and along the way asked the kids what they thought they might name their pets.  You may have already surmised that the boy kitten is Alex's and the girl kitten is Julia's.  You would be right.  Anyway, I told the kids they didn't have to choose names immediately, but they already had names picked out.

So, without further ado, I give you

Scratchy (the boy cat) (named by Alex)

And Softy (the girl cat) (named by Julia - "because she's so soft" - and because Julia's four and that's how she names everything.)

They're about 9 weeks old, and AREN'T THEY CUTE??????????????

Sorry.  I tried to control that but I couldn't help myself.

We let the cats out of their boxes in the kids' room after we'd put out food and water and set up a temporary litter box.

They both beelined under Julia's bed and we all sat on Alex's bed waiting for them to start to explore.

Softy is the bolder one.  She's already friendly with us, rubbing up against our ankles and mewing her tiny, squeaky little meows at us.  Scratchy hangs back a bit, checking out the situation before venturing forth.  After they got a bit comfortable, they started playing together.  And oh, it's been SO long since I've watched kittens play together.  They're hysterical!  Stalking and creeping and leaping...running and then skidding out of control across the hardwood floor...tapping at the kids' stuffed animals with their dainty front paws...Scratchy boldly attacking the laces of Bill's sneakers. 

We originally planned to keep them in the kids' room for a few days before introducing them to Blur, my seventeen-year-old one-eyed tabby,

but then I figured Julia would probably wake up at three in the morning, as usual, and forget about shutting the door behind her and the kittens would be out anyway.  So after dinner we opened the door.  Blur had a look at the little varmints and wasn't all that interested, although later she kind of skulked away nervously when Softy ventured into the basement.  Scratchy, to my knowledge, is still in the kids' room. 

Alex is a little concerned that Scratchy isn't as chummy as Softy, but we're explaining that it's such a big, scary experience for such a tiny kitten...he'll come around when he's feeling secure.  But I have to give Bill credit for coming up with the best analogy - he asked Alex "Were you a bit scared on your first day of kindergarten?"  Alex said yes, a little.  And Bill said "Well, this is kind of the same thing for Scratchy.  But just like you, he'll be fine."

It's a quarter to ten now, the Sox and Angels are playing and unfortunately we're losing.  Our kids made a couple of trips downstairs after Bill put them to bed.  The kittens apparently didn't that lights out means "stop playing and go to sleep" and their noisy acrobatics were keeping the kids awake.  But Julia's last visit was a while ago, so I'm thinking both sets of brother and sister are sleeping now.

Our family has grown - completely unexpectedly.  I believe it was fated.  We weren't seeking a pair of kittens, but we could not have left them behind.  We can play lots of "what ifs" - I wasn't even going to go with Bill and the kids originally, but the white lion kind of dragged me by the camera strap.  What if I'd stayed home?  Would Bill have decided to get the kittens?  He was definitely planning to stop at that garden supply place, so he'd have seen them....

Ah well.  Who cares.  They are here.  And after a bit of Buyer's Terror, Bill says he's glad we have them.  And so am I.  And of course the kids are.

I'm not so sure about Blur.

Anyway.  That's what's been going on here today.

Food-related posting will resume tomorrow.

A Quick Hello

I'll be posting later on today - I've got a few things I need to take care of this morning.  But I'll be back.

I've been working on some improvements (I think)/changes/new stuff for this site - I've started a navigation bar just below my banner, and you'll notice one of the options is "Slideshows."  Well, at the moment it's only one slideshow - I wanted to try it out and see how it looked. 

It's a WILDLY EXCITING (hahahaha) slideshow of me kneading bread dough left-handed (because I was holding the camera in my right hand).  I thought that instead of posting 20 pictures of me kneading dough every time I post a bread recipe, I could just refer readers to the slideshow. 

So let me know what you think, and yes, I know, in some shots my arm looks freakishly huge and wide and bizarre.  I have to work on avoiding that in subsequent slideshows....

Cakes - Natalie's Birthday - 2008

The days of cute character cakes are over.  My niece is no longer a little girl.  She is (gulp) 13 now, and her tastes have clearly matured.

For this birthday, she wanted cheesecake and chocolate cake together.  I suggested Boca Negra instead of a chocolate cake, because the texture is similar to cheesecake.  Suggestion accepted.

I made a 10" cheesecake and 9" and 8" batches of Boca Negra.  I also made some extra cheesecake to use for the piping.  (I just made a plain cheesecake - she didn't want anything fancy.)

(I also baked 4 4" springform pans of cheesecake and 4 of the Boca Negra to use as a birthday cake (or tower) for Bill's uncle, but I didn't take any pictures of that one, so I'm not officially including it here.  But it was yummy.  And I made a raspberry coulis to go along with it. No coulis necessary for Natalie and her friends.)

Anyway, I kept the layers of this cake in their pans in the fridge until the morning of her party.  I packed some bath towels onto the lower parts of the back seat (where it angles, so you can sit comforably) and cranked the air conditioning for a few minutes so the car would be like a refrigerator truck.  Then I packed up the other bowl of spare cheesecake and my piping bags and tips and couplers, and some parchment paper...a couple of large spatulas...dental floss (for slicing) and my camera, and headed to my sister's house.  Oh, yeah, and I brought an apron.  I can't seem to cook or bake seriously any more if I'm not wearing one.

I brought the cake unassembled like this because I was worried that the layers might slip in the car on the half hour ride to my sister's house.  Most of the time, my cakes are encased in fondant, which holds everything in place.

Assembly went very well - the chilled cheesecake and Boca Negra are pretty firm (especially the Boca Negra - all that butter hardens up nicely in the cold) so it was just a question of unmolding them quickly onto the supporting layer, and I managed that without mishap.  (I find that reciting "No guts, no glory" right before I flip a cake layer over helps me psych myself up for the task.)

When the layers were assembled, I scooped the extra cheesecake into a piping bag and piped the words onto the top layer first.  Cheesecake is kind of funny to pipe with - the texture is soft and the piped letters look a little fuzzy as a result.  There were also a couple of thicker bits (from around the edges of the baking dish) that clogged the piping tip a bit.  The squiggly "N" in "Natalie" was the result of one such clogging episode.

I used a star tip, a leaf tip, and a flower tip to do all the little decorative things around the edges. 

The party was yesterday.  I spoke to my sister this morning and she said the kids all liked the cake.

Thank goodness. 

A Sense of What's To Come

Yesterday afternoon.

Bill and the kids and I are hanging out in the basement watching Star Wars.  The original one.  We've all been kind of on a Star Wars kick for the past couple of months.  (Julia was calling it "Star Was" for a while.)

Anyway, we are heading into the final third of the movie.

Soon, everyone will converge back at the Falcon.

For now, we only see Obi Wan entering...silent...wary...ready for whatever may come.  (Alex sometimes refers to him as "Oobi" Wan.  We are trying to correct this.)

And then we see Darth Vader.

And Alex asks, "Mom, is he gonna show Oobi Wan the Power of the Dark Side now?"

A Closer Look...at Blueberries

Delicious.

Wild Blueberry Sorbet

 

Wild blueberries?

Really and for true?

Yep.  Just ask this little guy:

I found him crawling on a blueberry

when I was picking out stems and bits of leaves.

He didn't want to stay and chat, though...

He seemed in a big hurry to get somewhere.

So he kept crawling around and around the rim of this little quarter cup capacity plastic container.

Until I felt sorry for him

And helped him find a new home outside.

Okay, back to the blueberries.  Once I'd removed all the twigs, leaves, mushed berries and single worm, I came to the realization that I didn't have enough berries for the size batch of sorbet I wanted to make, and so yes, I added a package of Wyman's frozen wild blueberries to make up the difference.  I reserved one cup of the berries I'd picked to stir into the sorbet after it churned. 

And I used the remaining 2 cups of my berries plus 3 cups of the Wyman's. 

I let the frozen berries thaw while I made my simple syrup.

For the simple syrup, I just combined 2 cups of sugar and 2 cups of water in a pot, and heated them until the sugar disolved.

Next, I pureed the 5 cups of blueberries

and started to pour them through a strainer to remove the seeds and skins.  

Except, they didn't strain all that well.  I switched to a larger-meshed strainer and poured the simple syrup through with the puree, and that helped.  A few tiny seeds made it into the sorbet, but they weren't really noticeable in the final product.

 

Anyway, once all the puree was strained and the simple syrup was completely mixed in, I put that into the fridge to chill a while.

Now, the next day, when I finished making this, was rather hot and humid.  I'd also baked four loaves of bread that morning, so the kitchen was extra warm.  And so, in hindsight, my next move wasn't very bright. 

I poured the sorbet base into my ice cream maker, which was on the counter in my hot kitchen, and pressed the "on" button.  Well, it churned well enough, but at some point, the heat of the kitchen warmed up the ice cream maker so much that my sorbet just wasn't getting chilled any more.  Next time, I'd do the churning in the basement.

So I mixed in my remaining cup of blueberries

and then I scraped everything out into two quart containers and put them in the freezer.  (I didn't have two quarts of sorbet - more like a quart and a pint, by the way.) When I scraped the sorbet from the bowl of the ice cream maker, I noticed that there was some texture to the sorbet.  I figured I'd just check on it now and then and give it a stir to keep it from freezing into two big purple ice cubes.

And guess what?

It came out just fine.

 

Printable Recipe!

Off We Go, Into the Wild Blueberry Yonder...

I started this post last Friday and then got sidetracked and tripped up and busy and all, so I'm finally getting to it NOW. 

Here's my original beginning - again, this was last Friday...

Sorry, I am having title-writing dysfunction this morning.  It took me forever to decide what to write about this morning, and then I scrapped that and started over anyway, and then I stared at the blank spot for the title, and stared...and stared...and closed my eyes for while...and stared some more.  So that's the culmination of all my efforts.  My brain is just foggy this morning - probably because it's going to be all those awful summertime "H" words today - hazy, hot and humid - and I'm already sluggish, in anticipation.

Yesterday we went blueberry picking. 

Out in the wild. 

Okay, not the wild, but in a woodsy area near a nice big pond. 

 

We picked berries,

Alex hunted frogs,

For a time, Julia refused to switch her shoes so they'd be on the correct feet. 

We saw a broken Robin's egg,

 

and tiny grasshoppers on little wildflowers,

and a fuzzy yellow caterpillar.

When the kids started getting restless, Bill took them out in the canoe while I finished picking the berries.

I just noticed something with this picture...I'll go in closer so you can see, too.

Look at the faces of my husband and my son.  Bill and Mini-Bill, intensity-wise.  Julia sort of looks like she's sneering.  Like..."Okay, this is no fun, they're not letting me cast, I don't want to be in this boat any more."

Between the four of us (mostly me) we picked about 3+ cups of berries - they were the little tiny wild ones - and I could have done better but I really, really wanted to get a shot of a fish leaping out of the water to catch one of the zillions of dragonflies that swooped and soared above the surface,

so there were times when I just stood perfectly still,

camera ready,

finger poised above the shutter button,

waiting. 

And waiting. 

And trying not to be annoyed by the bugs that occasionally buzzed in my ears or above my head, or landed on my legs.  I tried to be patient, I really did.  I tried to get into a National Geographic Wildlife Photographer state of mind, and just settle in for the long haul.

And so now I'll pick up where I left off last Friday....

I never did get that perfect shot of a fish leaping out of the water.  I just missed it so many times,

and after a while I'd curse the fish out there and turn back to the blueberries.  And then I'd hear another splash.  The best I got was this shot of the fish as it fell back into the water.

Oh well. 

Alex learned to paddle a canoe...

I took a lot of pictures, and picked blueberries, and all in all it was a nice morning.

And what did I do with the blueberries?

Wild Blueberry Sorbet!

Yay!

This and That

It's been a busy week so far and I've been off my schedule somewhat.  I've got about 5 or 6 longer posts in the works, but only about fifteen minutes (starting now) to type today, so I'm just sharing a few bits and pieces of food-related things that weren't big enough to get a whole post of their own.

Like this pretty beverage:

What is it, you ask?

It's a...Watermelonito.  Or...a Watermelon Mojito.  Something like that. 

We'd had a lot of watermelon on hand and the last big bowl of it (all cut up into chunks) wasn't moving as quickly we'd expected it to.  So I pureed it all and strained it, so we had this lovely pink watermelon juice in a big measuring cup.

And Bill's brother and sister-in-law were here, and he (Bill) made some mojitos, because we have LOTS of mint, and then, when it was time to make the next batch, Bill used some of the watermelon juice in it. 

Very pretty, not overly sweet, because it still had the lime in it...a nice, refreshing summer evening beverage.

And then there's this:

Pretty, no?

And tiny.

We had an abundance of fresh fruit - blueberries, strawberries, and raspberries, and also a couple of cups of sour cherries, harvested and pitted from our tree earlier this summer.  So first I put together a pie, using all the blueberries and raspberries, and most of the strawberries and cherries.  And then, with the spare dough and the spare fruit, I made 7 little mini pies using a muffin tin. 

I cut out little bitty circles of dough and fashioned a little flour/top crust for each mini pie.  And I brushed the tops with egg wash and sprinkled sparkling sugar on top.

Here's a shot of the top of the larger pie:

I kind of want to live in there.

And that's about it for today! 

 

Talk to you later!

TWD: Cherry Rhubarb Cobbler

 

This week's Tuesdays With Dorie selection, "Cherry Rhubarb Cobbler," was chosen by Amanda of Like Sprinkles on a Cupcake.  The recipe can be found on page 415 of Dorie Greenspan's Baking:  From My Home to Yours or over on Amanda's site.

Before I made this, I skimmed through the instructions and the "Serving" and "Playing Around" sections  on the right side of the page.  For serving, Dorie wrote "It goes without saying that the cobbler is great with whipped cream or vanilla ice cream.  Cherry vanilla would be even better."

Well.  Cherry vanilla.  I could make that!  I had more than enough cherries for the cobbler, so why not make the ice cream, too?  Actually, I made that first, after I went through and pitted all the cherries, because the ice cream base was going to need time to chill and then the ice cream itself would need time to firm up later.

If you want to read all about the ice cream making part, you can head over here.

But for now, it's cobbler time.

I don't have one of those cherry pitting gizmos.  I've found it's easy enough to just put some cherries on a cutting board and press down on them with the flat side of a large knife. 

Once the blade makes contact with the pit, the cherry will start to split.  All I have to do is pull the cherry apart, toss the pieces in one bowl, and put the pit in my trash bowl.  Ta-da!  I will admit it gets a bit messy - by the end the board and my apron look like evidence of a cherry massacre.  And I guess that's what happened.

 

Next up - the rhubarb.  I bought rhubarb this time, although we do have a rhubarb plant in the garden.  But for some reason, our rhubarb hasn't been as big and mighty as it has been in the past, and I'd already used a bunch of it for a strawberry rhubarb pie or something, and I didn't want to wipe out the entire plant.  So I bought a rather large bunch, and I think I'll have to chop and freeze the rest of it because I only needed the two biggest stalks for this cobbler.  Look - exactly 12 ounces!

I trimmed the ends off and then I peeled the stringy bits from the stalk.  And, being me, I thought the little stringy bits looked kind of interesting...so I took a few pictures.

And then, after play time was done, I got around to chopping up the rhubarb.

Then I got the rest of the filling ingredients measured out and ready to go - sugar, ground ginger, and cornstarch.

I whisked the dry ingredients together first, and then stirred it all together in a big bowl.

It looked kind of grainy initially, but by the time the topping was ready, and I had stirred this mixture around a few times, all the dry ingredients had soaked in the juices and everything looked lovely and juicy and ready for baking.

The topping came together just as quickly and easily.  I didn't use a food processor - I just did it in a bowl, by hand, and it was just fine.  First the dry ingredients, and then the bits of cold butter...

and then the milk (please excuse the blur).

And then the rather sticky dough was turned out onto a floured board and cut into pieces...

And all the pieces were very gently shaped into balls.

Now, in her book, Dorie recommends using an 8 x 8 inch pyrex baking dish.  I had one - I don't know where it went.  So I used a deep, 8" diameter souffle dish instead, and that worked just fine.

And into the oven it went!

Oh - it smelled REALLY good while it was baking.  REALLY good.  Mine baked for 45 minutes.  I'd checked it at 35, and it looked cooked, but the berries weren't bubbling, so I put it back in for another ten minutes.  Bingo.  Dark red juice bubbled up in between the balls of the cobbler crust.  Yum.

I let the cobbler sit by the window for the rest of the day, and we had it for dessert later that night.  I took some photos of it when I served it up, but because the the (lack of natural) lighting, the pictures didn't come out to my liking. 

And so, for the sake of Culinary Artistic Aesthetics, I just HAD to dig out some cobbler this morning, and some ice cream, and do the pictures again.  And, yes, eat the cobbler and ice cream for breakfast.  To my way of thinking, it's not ALL that different from cereal with fruit and milk.  And that's HEALTHY, right?

   

Right!

Now go take a good long peek at how all the other Tuesdays With Dorie members (over 200 and something now!) did with their Cherry Rhubarb Cobblers.  And then go make one for yourself!  And don't forget to make some Cherry Vanilla ice cream to go along with it!

Cherry Vanilla Ice Cream

What to do with leftover cherries?  Well, you could eat them, of course, but when the weather's been in the 90s and the humidity has been up in the zillions, maybe it would be better to take those cherries and make some ice cream with them instead.

It sure sounded like a good idea to me!

I had a little over a pound of cherries at my disposal - I was using another pound for my TWD recipe this week, and they were already set aside, so I just used what was left to make the ice cream.

But first I had to make the ice cream base. 

Here's what I used:

1 pint of heavy cream

1 pint of 2% milk (yes, you could certainly use whole milk, but with all the cheese-making and Tuesdays With Dorie-ing I've been doing lately, I thought I could stand to lose a bit of milk fat somewhere.)

6 egg yolks

1/2 a cup of sugar

3/4 T vanilla

1 T almond extract

And, of course, the cherries - pitted, and then roughly chopped.

 

Basically, when you make vanilla ice cream, you're making a creme anglaise.  All I did differently was add almond extract in along with the vanilla when I flavored it. 

First thing you do - pour your milk and cream in a pot and place over medium heat. 

I scald the milk/cream mixture - which means I bring it to just under the boiling point.  Little bubbles start to form along the sides of the pot, and you can see movement in the rest of the liquid.  At that point, it's getting ready to form some big boiling bubbles.

While the milk and cream are heating up, whisk together your egg yolks and sugar until they start to thicken and lighten in color. 

 

When the milk/cream has reached the scalding point, you'll need to temper, or slowly heat, the yolks and sugar.  This is done by ladling some of the hot milk mixture into the egg yolks while you whisk as fast as you can.  You want to pour the hot milk sloooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwly as you whisk, so as not to heat the yolks too quickly.  If they are heated too fast, you'll end up with scrambled eggs and you might as well go make some toast and try the ice cream again later.  Okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration.  IF you end up getting a bit of coagulation (and it certainly can happen), just make sure you strain the whole ice cream base before you chill it.  This will remove any little squiggly bits of cooked yolk, and no one need ever know....

Anyway, back to the tempering.  Unless you have a helper or a third arm, you'll need to find a way to keep your bowl of egg yolks from slipping and sliding away while you pour with one hand and whisk with the other.  I saw Alton Brown use a damp dish towel as a sort of nest for the bowl, and that works great.

Some cookbooks will instruct that you ladle in all of the milk/cream mixture to the yolks and then pour the whole thing back into the pot.  I just use a couple of ladlesful (ladlefuls?  no, must be ladlesful.  I think.) of the hot milk until the yolks are hot, and then I pour that into the pot with the rest of the milk and move on from there.  Whichever is easier or makes more sense to you is fine.  Both ways work.  The thing to remember is to keep whisking while you first pour that milk in.

Now.  Once the egg yolks and sugar are heated up and mixed in with all the milk and cream, and everybody is back in the pot, you want to switch to a spoon and stir,

stir,

stir while the whole mixture heats up and thickens. 

Your goal, temperature-wise, is between 170-180 degrees F.  You don't want to go over, because at that point, no matter how well you did your tempering, you can still end up with scrambled eggs.  Very sweet, runny eggs, but coagulated eggs nonetheless.  And you don't want that.

So stir and stir and keep an eye on the temperature.  The milk/egg mixture will thicken noticeably as you stir, and when the mixture is thick enough, you'll be able to dip your spoon in, and then run a finger down the back of the spoon and the sauce will stay put and not try to meld back together again.  Another fun test (well, okay, fun is a relative term), is to dip the spoon in the mixture and then blow on the back of the spoon.  When the sauce is thick enough, it will spread out in a rose blossom pattern.  Or, you can just be sensible and use a thermometer.  At least until you've made this a few times and know what to expect.

When the milk mixture has reached the proper temperature and thickness, you need to remove the pot from the heat and pour the mixture through a strainer (better safe than sorry!) into a bowl, and put THAT bowl in another, larger bowl filled about half way with ice water. 

Keep stirring the hot mixture until it becomes tepid.  At that point, go ahead and add in your vanilla and almond extracts (or other flavorings if you wish) and then move the bowl of ice cream base into the fridge and let it chill at least 2 hours.

When the base is chilled, get out your ice cream maker, pour in the base, and let it churn.

Because of the heat, I actually set up the ice cream maker in the basement, near the air conditioner, and I wrapped it in a towel to keep the heat out and the coldness in.  Last time I made something with the ice cream maker, I had it up in the kitchen, and it churned and churned and churned - and the sorbet I was working on didn't really thicken as it should have.  It tasted good anyway.  But still - it was just too, too hot up there for the ice cream maker.  Things worked out much better in the basement.  The vanilla base thickened beautifully, and when it was ready, I poured it into a plastic freezer container and mixed in the chopped cherries.

Actually, I had only prepped about a cup of cherries initially, but when I poured them in, I thought there should be more cherries, so I quickly chopped up the rest and my kids helped me with the pouring and the stirring while I snapped pictures. 

Please forgive the appallingly messy countertop - it was rather chaotic yesterday.

Anyway, I put the container into the freezer and that was that. 

Until later, of course.  And again this morning.

And would you believe

That I shot 70 pictures

Of this same cone of ice cream

In a (futile) attempt

To catch a sharp and clear image of a drip of melted ice cream in midair - somewhere between the ice cream above and the plate below.

It didn't happen, and I didn't want the ice cream to just melt all over the place.  Too wasteful for something homemade.

So I threw in the towel and handed the cone to one of our houseguests. 

And soon, that ice cream was gone.

Grilled Salmon Cake, Polenta, Eggplant, and Pattypan Napoleon. Kind of.

I couldn't come up with a better name.  Or a shorter one.  Unless you count the working name of "Stack" as a good title for this recipe.  It works, but doesn't sound all that appetizing. 

We're growing pattypan squashes for the first time this year, and they are a wonderful crop.  We have one plant, and I don't know how many little squashes we've harvested so far, but there is no end in sight.

The other morning we picked five, and one zucchini.

 

Besides these, we had about 4 other pattypan inside and a couple more zucchini.  And one little eggplant.  And we needed to eat them.

It's been hot and humid here the last several days, and while I'd been originally thinking of doing some kind of pasta and fresh vegetable dish, I didn't feel like boiling a big pot of water and boiling up the kitchen at the same time.  And I didn't feel like making pizzas or focaccia that day.  So instead, in order to avoid as much heat as possible (hahahaha), I broke out my griddle and, yes, cooked several sliced yellow pattypan squashes, the eggplant, and more.  Yes, SO much more refreshing and cool than boiling water or baking something in the oven...

Anyway, here's the rest of what I did.  And keep in mind, this was all for the sake of using vegetables AND making a visually pleasing plate of food.

I sliced the pattypan squashes into circles about 1/4-1/2 of an inch thick.  I got about 4-5 slices per squash.  I also sliced the eggplant into (roughly) 1/4 circles...

And then - still going with the circle theme here - I got out a tube of pre-cooked polenta and sliced THAT into circles, about 1/3 of an inch thick.

And finally, I got out a can of salmon, drained the contents, and mixed that up with a finely chopped garlic scape, a couple of eggs, about half a cup or so of bread crumbs, salt and pepper.  When it was all combined, I shaped the mixture into about 10 balls.  Yes, again with the circle theme.

* A little tip - when forming balls or patties or cakes with any kind of meat or fish, it helps prevent sticking if you dip your hands in some cold water before you begin, and then again after every couple of balls.  Or patties.  Or cakes.

I put the salmon balls in the fridge (it was way too hot to leave them out, and I planned to cook them last) and then I fired up the two burners underneath my griddle. 

By the way - sorry, no more process pictures til the end.  I wasn't even sure I was going to write this one up until the end.  I should know better by now - I should just take pictures no matter what I think going into it.  But this isn't a terribly difficult thing to make, so I don't think you really need the step by step by step photos anyway.

Okay.  Once the griddle was hot, I painted it with some vegetable oil and placed all my circles of pattypan squash on to cook.  While they were sizzling away, I painted the top sides of the squashes with more oil and sprinkled them with some salt and pepper.  When they were soft and slightly browned on both sides, I drained them on paper towels and stowed them away in the warming drawer of my oven. 

I basically repeated the same process with the slices of eggplant and the sliced polenta, and then the salmon.  For the salmon - I placed the balls on the griddle and then gently pressed them down into cakes about 1/2 an inch thick or so.  As each food finished cooking, into the warming drawer it went.

While things were grilling, I was thinking about how to serve them.  I knew I was going to stack everything, kind of like a Napoleon, but I thought I needed more than just the four components. 

I had some fresh mozzarella sliced and sitting in salted water in the fridge.  It was a batch I made with half whole milk and half nonfat milk last week and I didn't like the taste or the texture at all.  As both my sister-in-law and my husband said, it was squeaky.  It didn't get soft and stretchy enough at all, even though I had the hot whey at 195 and up while I was trying to work with it.  (And no rubber gloves for me while handling the scalding hot whey!  I've got chef hands, remember!  And I'm stupid AND a showoff, too!)

Anyway, I had put the bland and squeaky mozzarella in a bowl of salted water because I figured it would both flavor and soften the cheese, and it did, actually, so I was slightly pleased with myself for that.  I thought the slices of mozzarella would go nicely in between layers of squash and polenta and salmon cakes, and the heat from the cooked items would also melt the cheese a bit.

I also made a little sauce or dressing to drizzle on top.  I whisked together roughly a third of a cup of olive oil, about a tablespoon of roasted garlic puree that I had in the fridge a bit of lemon juice, salt and pepper, and about a quarter cup of grated romano cheese.

So, once everything was cooked and I had my game plan for assembly worked out, I plated one and took some pictures (while my family waited impatiently forks in hands and stomachs growling...).  I was working with the late afternoon sun that streams in through one of the kitchen windows, which is the reason for the kinds of shadows I got.  I kind of liked the effect - to me, it says "HOT, HUMID DAY, BUT WITH FOOD FROM THE GARDEN!"

 And how did it taste?  Well, predictably, the kids didn't like in its entirety - the each tore it apart and ate the layers they liked.  And that was fine - they each had some of it.

Bill loved it, and I thought it was pretty good, too.  And just think - as more of our round or cylindrical vegetables ripen, I could make new versions, taller versions...skyscrapers on a plate. 

Food is fun.

It's Hot Outside...So Naturally I Have to Bake and Cook and Fry Stuff

It's been like that for the past several days - yucky humidity and heat - I spend the day dripping like a melting ice sculpture...only more miserable, if that makes any sense.  And no, it doesn't.

Anyway, just to give you an example of what I've been up to...on Friday I made a triple batch of focaccia (baked at 425 degrees) AND I made some deep fried squash blossoms stuffed with ricotta and herbs (oil for that was only an icy 370)...and today I baked a double batch of this bread and cooked, cracked and picked 6 large lobsters - every nook and cranny of 'em - to make a...um...a hextuple (is that right?) batch of this "lobster three ways" dish.  Oh, yeah, and grilled lamb burgers (okay, Bill did the grilling)...made a tzatziki sauce...guacamole...oh, and a batch of blueberry sorbet yesterday.  I've been taking pictures like a madwoman, and will be posting much of this stuff in the days to come. 

Why all the multiple batches?  On Friday it was for a party at our nephew and his girlfriend's house - he's in the Air Guard and will be going to Afghanistan for 45 days beginning tomorrow.  He's already done his tour, but...well, this is not a political blog, so I'm not going to get into that.  Other than to say I'm really not happy about it.  Where was I?  Oh, yes, all the cooking...and today it was for us and some family visiting.  They live in Ohio, so fresh lobster is kind of an automatic thing whenevery they're here.

And now?  The dishwasher is running, Bill is pudding the kids to bed, and I'm going to go SIT somewhere.

Somewhere air conditioned.

Hahahahahah - my sister pointed out that I've got two typos in here.  One is particularly funny (to me) considering the previous TWD entry....I think the heat had got to me by this point last night.

Question For You

I'm working on ways to improve this site...some of my ideas include printable recipes and slideshow tutorials for some of the more common procedures I use around here - like kneading dough, for example.

Are there any other suggestions you have?  Things you would like access to?  Questions you have?  Specific things you'd like me to make?

If you've got any ideas, suggestions, criticisms, etc, please post them in the comments section or shoot me an email. 

Thanks!

Jayne

Strawberry Balsamic Sorbet

According to my son, Alex, "This tastes just like strawberries!" 

I had a lot of strawberries on hand last week - end of the season strawberries that needed something done with them or else they'd start going moldy.

I had made a couple of batches of freezer jam...I made pies...and I made sorbet.

First - I made a batch of simple syrup. 

2 cups of sugar + 2 cups of water.  See?  Simple!

Pour the sugar and water in a pot and stir just to moisten all the sugar.  Place the pot over a medium flame and heat it until all the sugar has dissolved.  Once the sugar has dissolved, shut off the heat and let the syrup cool to room temperature.  You can do this ahead of time and refrigerate it, if you wish.

Next, the strawberries.  To be honest, I don't know how many cups or pounds of strawberries I started with.  I just used everything I had left - I'm guessing around 5 or 6 cups before I hulled and trimmed them.  After hulling them and halving them (and yes, trimming away any particularly mushy sections), I pureed most of them in my food processor and strained the juice to keep the seeds out.  I kept about half a cup of strawberries out of the processor and mashed them with a tiny bit of sugar.  I set these aside for later.

I had a little over 3 cups of strained strawberry puree and I combined that with 1 3/4 cups of simple syrup, stirred well, and put the mixture in the fridge for about an hour.

I apologize at this point for the scarcity of process photos. 

When the strawberry base was chilled, I got my ice cream maker out and set up and found some containers to keep the sorbet in once it was ready to go in the freezer.

I also got those remaining strawberries that I'd mashed with a bit of sugar and strained the excess juice from them.  I set the remaining berries aside again to mix into the sorbet later.

Once the strawberry sorbet had run its course through the machine, I stirred in the additional berries.  I also drizzled in some balsamic vinegar glaze - not a lot, maybe a couple of tablespoons - and then I scraped the soft sorbet mixture into a couple of containers and popped them in the freezer.

Several days later, we dug in. 

 

The sorbet had a delightful texture that was both icy and silky smooth.  The balsamic vinegar glaze wasn't really noticeable as balsamic vinegar, but it gave the sorbet a zing that cut through the sweetness and brightened the overall flavor without providing any sort of distraction from summery taste of fresh strawberries.

My kids loved it, and so did Bill and I.  In fact, Alex had a bit of Haagen Dazs Mango sorbet this evening - and he didn't like it.  He wanted my strawberry sorbet instead.

Okay, I realize that choice had more to do with the flavor of mangoes vs the flavor of strawberries...but still, homemade trumps store bought any day in my book.  I allowed myself a moment to pat myself on the back (figuratively, so no one would see).  And laugh.

And then I went back to loading the dishwasher.

 

So if you find yourself with an abundance of fresh summer fruit but the thought of making a pie fills you with dread and sends you running for the air conditioner, keep your cool by making some icy, silky, delicious sorbet.  No baking involvoved.

And Speaking of Eggrolls - How About Filling Them With Strawberries?

 

This was just an experiment - I had some leftover eggroll wrappers in the fridge and I had some strawberries.  And I thought - hey - deep-fried dessert! 

First, I chopped up the strawberries and mixed them with a little sugar.  In hindsight, I should have let them sit in the sugar longer to release more of the juice, and then either strained off the excess liquid or cooked it down a bit.  Lesson learned.  On we go.

Next, I took an eggroll wrapper and filled it with some of the strawberries...

I also made a couple of them this way -

When I had four made (like I said, this was experimental)

I heated up the oil to between 350-360 F and then fried these up.

You can't really see it well in those two frying shots, but just about all of the eggrolls leaked some juice, which is why I'd like to eliminate more of the liquid before the rolls are filled next time.

Once they were nicely golden brown, I removed them from the oil and drained them on some paper towels and then dusted them liberally with powdered sugar.

 

And then I got all fancy, drizzled some chocolate syrup on a plate, and arranged an eggroll just so...

 

And so, you ask, how were they?

Not bad.  Like I've already said, I'd reduce the moisture level of the strawberries - or I'd add something to help absorb the juice...like a cornstarch/sugar mixture...or some crushed plain cookies....hmmmmm.

They also don't need the chocolate - if I wanted to drizzle something again, just to be fancy, I'd maybe drizzle some thinned lemon curd or a strawberry coulis.  Or I'd serve the hot eggrolls with ice cream, because all those hot/cold, crunchy/soft contrasts would be nice.

And that's about it for now!  I'll be back later - I've still got a couple of other strawberry-themed posts to write - hopefully I'll get them up today or tomorrow. 

See you later!

Impromptu Eggrolls

Sometimes I take photos of something I'm making, but then get busy with other posts and forget (or neglect) to post some of the older recipes and photos.  Like with these eggrolls.  I made them in...early June.  Okay, so that's only about 5 weeks ago.  Could be worse, I suppose.

Anyway, in an attempt to rectify this, I'm trying to focus on some older recipes and process photos, just so I can put them to bed, so to speak.

I made these eggrolls in early June, with some leftover Farmers' Market produce and other odds and ends in the fridge.  If I remember correctly, I was originally going to make some kind of pasta dish with the vegetables...and then I thought pan seared dumplings would be fun.  And then I ended up making eggrolls.  I had the eggroll wrappers in the fridge, and a package of tofu, so I guess it was fated.

And because this was a "clean out the fridge" sort of creation, I can't give you exact amounts for the filling.  So this post isn't so much a recipe to follow as it is inspirational (I hope).  So let's go.

The whole thing started with the rest of the mizuna and mibuna I'd bought at the Farmers' Market the previous Friday.  I'd used most of each bunch, but there was still a significant enough amount left that I felt I should DO SOMETHING with it.  I figured I could chop it up and saute it or something....

I had a package of firm tofu...I had those eggroll wrappers...I had some black beans from a can - must have used some for something and these were what was left...I had onion and garlic...some mung bean sprouts...and part of a serrano pepper that was turning red and begging to be used.  Oh, yeah, and I had some mushrooms.

I sauteed the onion and garlic and mushrooms in some oil, and added the cubed tofu and continued to cook til most of the liquid was either absorbed or cooked off, and the tofu was just starting to turn golden.  I scraped all that into a large bowl, and then steamed the chopped greens in the same pan til they wilted nicely and gave up most of their liquid.  I added them, along with the black beans, chopped serrano, and sprouts to the bowl and mixed the whole mess together really well. 

 

I know.  "Mess" is a pretty appropriate term, isn't it.

Next, I got out my package of eggroll wrappers and started the assembly.

Ta-da!  You just need to remember to dip your finger in some water and run it around the perimeter of the wrapper so that you can seal the edges as you roll them up. 

I put about an inch of oil in a pan and started heating it, and while the temperature climbed, I made some dipping sauces.

And yes, I admit it, I made three sauces just so I could make use of this nifty little plate I bought at Pier One that same day. 

The first one I made was a blend of soy sauce and wasabi paste with some chopped chives on top.

Second sauce was simply a blend of sesame oil and rice vinegar with some roughly chopped cilantro leaves on top.

(Chives and cilantro came from our garden, by the way.)

And the third sauce - well, I wanted something thicker and creamier (clearly), so I blended nonfat yogurt with some hot pepper jelly - that orangey red blob on top is some of the jelly.

I must say, the set of sauces in their snazzy little platter was fun to photograph.

Yep, that was fun.  Back to work.

Once the oil had reached a temp of between 350-360 F, I started frying the eggrolls a few at a time.

As they came out of the oil, I kept them dry in the warming drawer of my oven until all the eggrolls were cooked.

And then I assembled them around the sauces and brought them downstairs to share with Bill. 

They were really good - with an occasional blast of heat from the chopped serranos that kept things exciting.  (It's important, in a marriage, to throw an occasional culinary curveball, you know.  Serrano peppers make the heart grow fonder.  Or something like that.)

So next time you have a variety of potential ingredients all hanging out in your fridge, and you know you could make some sort of pasta dish or a salad with them, but you just don't really feel like going those routes, get out your eggroll wrappers and stir up a few dipping sauces and...(get ready for it)

 

...fry something new! 

(Irritating pun intended.)

Musical Notes

Not sure if I mentioned it before, but my husband is giving my son guitar lessons.  They're about 3 weeks into it, with a 15-20 minute lesson most days of the week.

My husband, by the way, is a classical guitarist with a Master's degree in Performance from New England Conservatory.  He teaches in both a middle school and a college, performs, and now - teaches our son. 

Bill (my husband) was kind of hesitant about teaching Alex - it's not easy to teach - really teach - your own child.  And eventually, if Alex wants to keep going, Bill may have someone else teach him.  But for now, the lessons are here, and Alex can attend class in just his Shrek underpants if he wants to.

The other thing about the lessons is that Bill didn't want to force them.  He's been asked (and so have I, actually) if the kids play guitar yet, and people have been surprised when the answer has been no.  But you can't force music lessons down a kid's throat and expect them to be passionate about music.  At least, that's not the way Bill wanted to do it.  So he waited, and just...played guitar like usual, practicing at home for concerts or whatever.  And eventually, Alex expressed a desire to "play guitar like Daddy." 

Alex has a nice guitar - it's a real guitar, just 3/4 size.  And, as a Mommy, I have to say that watching Alex play, with his little face all serious and intent on the music, and his correct posture, his hands where they belong on the strings and frets, and his bare foot on the footstool - it's unbearably adorable. 

It's been hard to get a good shot of Alex playing because if he sees me approach with the camera, he looks up and grins like a madman, and the adorable factor is rather diminished.

But recently, while family was here last week, Alex performed his first paying concert (really!  He got a dollar from his uncle!) for an audience.  I took a few pictures - they didn't come out great from a technical standpoint, but still - they're priceless to me.

And then, of course, he has to take his final bow...

 

Pretty good, huh?  Only 6 years and one month and he's already played his first paying gig.

~~~~~

And then there's Julia.

Julia is two years younger than Alex, and while she definitely has shown interest in playing guitar, she isn't really interested in the LEARNING HOW TO part of it.  So even though she wants equal time (mainly when Alex is having a one-on-one lesson with Daddy and she wants in on the attention), once it's her turn, she isn't interested in what Bill has to say or teach.  She prefers to just play and sing.

Yesterday Bill did Alex's lesson and then Julia wanted a lesson.  They went downstairs to the basement, where Bill has a guitar that he lets the kids play.  After a little while, Bill came upstairs and asked if I wanted to watch Julia's performance.  I said sure, and headed down.  Bill brought the DVD camera.

And there was Julia, sitting on her little tiny chair, holding Daddy's big guitar.  Bill stood nearby.  He asked Julia if she was ready, and she nodded, so he started recording and announced:

"Presenting...Miss Julia Maker!" 

After a few straggling claps from me, Julia began.

She held the guitar neck with her left hand, and strummed confidently with her right.

And she sang:

"The ants go marching one by two, hurrah, hurrah!

The ants go marching one by two hurrah, hurrah!

The ants go marching one by two, the little one......

........................................................................."

And then she slammed the guitar, strings down, onto the carpet and stalked away, muttering, "Oh, I don't know it."

She apparently is more a student of the Pete Townsend school of guitar abuse.

 

The Kindness of Strangers

This blows my mind, but I have received three - that's right, three - blogging awards from fellow bloggers, and I am rather paralyzed by the whole thing.

First there was this one, the E for Excellent award, sent to me by Tommi of Brown Interior.

 

I'm definitely flattered - but more than that, I'm delighted to see that she, too, has caught the cheese-making bug - check out this Ricotta Bread she baked recently!  I'm wanting to make up a batch of ricotta JUST to make this bread.

Thank you, Tommi!

Next came the Arte y pico award from Susan of She's Becoming DoughMessTic.  She's got a great blog (and an unbearably adorable son) - and she's also the one who nudged me into finding a recipe for a softer bread than the one I'd recently posted.  I love this kind of interaction - this community of strangers becoming friends...all of us nudging each other to do better.  (Huh?  I ramble.)

Thank you, Susan!

And most recently, from Deb of Kahakai Kitchen - the Yum Yum Blog Award.  "Yum Yum" is very definitely an accurate description for Deb's lovely blog - and the fact that she's in Hawaii reminds me that my husband and I need to go back for an anniversary or second honeymoon or something. 

 

Aloha and Mahalo, Deb in Hawaii!

I am really, really overwhelmed.  Really.  This sort of thing brings out all the shyness in me, because the NEXT job is to pass these awards along to the bloggers I think deserve them.  And I always feel...like an autograph hound chasing down the best and brightest stars out there, and then standing there, pen and paper in hand, gushing and babbling like a rain-swollen brook.  "Um...Hi!  Hi, you're (insert Big Name here)!  You're GREAT!  I mean, your work is really GREAT!  Hi!  (long, awkward silence in which I hold out the pen and paper but not quite far enough, because I'm being pulled apart by my own dorkiness and star-stricken-ness.) 

Anyway, there, I'm done with the cathartic, here's-how-awkward-I-am part.  I really am a dork.

Now for the passing it along part.

Technically, I'm supposed to choose something like five recipients for EACH of these awards, and if I'd done that immediately upon receipt, things would have been easier.  But since I've let them get backed up, I'm going to break the rule (as rainbowbrown said - "rules schmules") and pick a couple of blogs for each award.

So here goes...

For the E is for Excellent award...

The Sheila Variations.  Sheila is the reason I started my own blog.  She had started one, and I thought - hey, I want to do that, too!  She and I have been friends for a long time - so long you'd fall right over if you tried to lean back that far.  Sheila is a whirlwind of a writer, on topics like books, writers, movies, theatre, actors, American history, World history, any country that's name ends in -stan or -vokia or pretty much any other group of letters you can lump together, music, her beloved Red Sox, and oh, just about anything else.  Go read her - she is one of the very best.

Gone With the Toe.  Yeah, you can say "nepotism" all you want, but I really don't care.  Yes, I'm giving an E is for Excellent award to my sister.  And no, she hasn't posted in a while, so you might ask why she should get recognition.  Well, because SHE is excellent.  Can I tell you about her for a minute?  She's my sister, a wife, a mother of two teenagers, and works outside the home.  She's an awesome gardener, and she taught herself to crochet.  She is unimpressed by BS, and tries not to waste her time listening to it.  She pickles peppers, and makes some yummy loaves of bread, not to mention a smooth cup of coffee.  She has been known to wrestle combative lizards apart and grab doomed birds out of the jaws of one of her cats.  She is not to be messed with.  She earned her black belt in Karate a while back, and when I say "earned" - I mean in an "ABC's Wide World of Sports" intro kind of way.  She had been on track to get her black belt originally when a horrible accident with a toppling old-fashioned cast-iron (or something heavy) radiator fell on her FEET and thus kept her OFF of them for months.  She lost half a toe and her, black belt acquisition was set back as well.  But as soon as she could safely do so, she was back at it, sparring and running along with everyone else.  And on the final physical testing day - a long, exhausting day of kata and sparring and torture - some wild teenage kid with a lack of self-control BROKE MY SISTER'S ARM.  So, like I said, she damn well earned that black belt.  She never, ever quit.  And she never wasted time feeling sorry for herself.  And that's how she is.  She doesn't sit down and stop.  She may get sidelined by other things for a bit, but she keeps coming back, moving forward, with little fanfare, no self pity, and a dark and wry sense of humor.  The tattoo on her ankle is a symbol that means "Warrior," and that's a pretty apt description.  Anyway, the whole toe story is where her blog name came from, and I hope she gets back to it soon.  (But first she'll smack me for giving her this award.)

And for the Pico y Arte award...

Dooce.  Here is a perfect example of me feeling absolutely dorky, standing (figuratively) here holding out my pen and paper for an autograph, stammering and stuttering about why I think Heather Armstrong totally rocks.  Not that the world needs me to tell them - she is one of the best writers out there.  Her blog is gorgeous, her daily photos are fabulous, and her house is tidier than mine will ever be.  She has a fabulous husband and a daughter who is about 3 months older than mine, and I love reading her posts about the lovely Leta, because Heather writes them with a mix of love and exasperation, joy and headaches that I can relate to.  Best of all, Heather has written openly and honestly about her battles with depression and anxiety, and as someone who has fought on that battlefield a bit herself, I appreciate knowing that I'm not as alone as I've thought with these demons.  If she wasn't so annoyingly slender, I wouldn't mind having her as a neighbor, and I wouldn't even mind if her dogs came in my yard sometimes. 

And for the Yum Yum Award...

I could just start with the entire blogroll from the Tuesdays with Dorie group - every one of these bakers is devoted to broadening her (or his) culinary horizons and bettering techniques.  They are all passionate about food, otherwise they would not have joined the group (and other groups, many of them.)  So many food photos to drool over and stories to laugh (or cry) with.  It's a struggle to narrow them down and only pick a few, but I'll do it.  Here are a few of my favorites, in no particular order.

Engineer Baker 

Di's Kitchen Notebook

mix, mix...stir, stir

Like Sprinkles on a Cupcake

Ezra Pound Cake 

~~~~~

And that concludes my passing on of the awards.  I hope you'll go check out these sites, if you aren't reading them already.  It will be time well spent.

TWD: Chocolate Pudding

The funny thing is, Julia's been on a chocolate pudding kick lately.  So when I saw that Melissa of It's Melissa's Kitchen had chosen Chocolate Pudding (page 383 of Baking:  From My Home to Yours by Dorie Greenspan), I was rather pleased.

The pudding went together very quickly, and the process was totally different from any way I've ever made pudding.  For one thing - no box!  (Just kidding.)  The biggest unexpected part of this recipe was utilizing the food processor to actually make the pudding.  Very different, but fun and effective.

I had all the ingredients the recipe called for without making any special trips anywhere - the only substitutions I made were 2% milk instead of whole, and 1 oz of semi-sweet chocolate because I only had 4 oz of bittersweet on hand.

I put most of the milk and half the sugar in a pot on the stove to boil...

Combined the cornstarch, cocoa powder and salt in one bowl...

And the rest of the sugar, the egg and two yolks in another bowl...

While my bowls of melted chocolate, softened butter and vanilla waited in the wings.

As directed, I ran the cornstarch/cocoa powder/salt mixture through the food processor and then poured that out onto a piece of parchment.

Next to go into the processor were the eggs and sugar, and after they were spun around for a minute, I poured in the remaining milk...

And then the cocoa powder mixture...

Now, ordinarily when making something like this, I would figure that the next step would be to temper the egg mixture with some of the hot milk in the pot and then pour the gently-heated egg mixture into the rest of the milk and cook until it thickened.

But not this time.  Instead, Dorie has you slowly pour the hot milk into the spinning food processor (okay, the contents of the bowl are spinning, not the appliance).  In this way, it is apparently incorporated slowly enough so the eggs don't cook/curdle, and this eliminates the whole tempering step.  Pretty cool, actually, as long as you can pour your hot milk with a steady hand.

It makes it harder when you're trying to pour left-handed and take a picture with the camera with your right hand.  But it can be done!

(okay, it's a bit fuzzy, but still - ACTION SHOT!)

Okay, once the milk is blended into the egg mixture (mine was very frothy)

You pour it back into the pot and whisk constantly until it begins to thicken and, to quote Dorie, "a couple of bubbles burble up to the surface and pop (about 2 minutes)."  Then it's back into the food processor for one more spin - this time you add in the vanilla and butter and melted chocolate, who have been sitting over there on the counter, watching all the fun.

Wheeee!  Everybody into the pool!

(I'm sorry - I was up late last night watching the Home Run Derby and then Julia had me up very very early this morning - I tend to get a bit silly when sleep-deprived.)

Okay, so now you spin it all around again to combine

Now comes the hard part.  You have to put the pudding into ramekins or cups or whatever and - put them in the fridge to chill for "at least 4 hours."  Yeah.  Four.  Hours.  That's what Dorie says.  Clearly she is off her rocker on that point.  But I'll cut her some slack, since mostly everything else she writes makes sense.

Anyway, I chose these coffee cups instead of ramekins, and I divided the pudding into 6 cups and let them all wait on the counter while I scraped the very last bits of pudding from the inside of the processor bowl and the blade and the spatula and made sure they all ended up in my mouth.  It was not a very pretty display, I'm sure, but no one was in the kitchen to witness it.  (So maybe it didn't really happen at all...)

I started putting them in the fridge, really I did, but then Miss Julia, the chocolate pudding princess, came in and saw me wiping chocolate evidence from the corner of my mouth.

"Mommy, what do you got?"  She asked in her best Law & Order interrogation room tone.

"Um...chocolate pudding," I confessed...weak-willed soul that I am.

"I want some chocolate pudding!"  She shouted - a four-year-old girl once more - jumping up and down.

"Well...okay."  So I gave her a cup and warned her that it wasn't exactly like the chocolate pudding she usually ate (she's a milk chocolate kind of gal at this point), but she grabbed a spoon and dug in anyway.

You've probably guessed that she didn't like it.  Oh darn.  I guess I'll have to finish what's in the cup.  I thought it was delicious - dark and lush and smooth.

A bit later, (still not 4 hours later, though.  Sorry, Dorie.) my husband was a little hungry and I asked if he wanted some chocolate pudding.  Oh he sure did.  With whipped cream?  Yes, please!  I poured some heavy cream in a bowl, got a whisk, and beat it by hand til it reached the soft peak stage. 

And then I made Bill wait while I took some pictures...

And then I finally allowed Bill to snatch the cup and spoon away and sample the pudding.

1 minute and 36 seconds later...

 

He liked it. A lot.

If you would like to see more glorious photos of chocolate pudding, go check out the enormous list of Tuesdays With Dorie members.  And if you want the recipe, go check in Melissa's Kitchen or better yet, go buy the book!

Open-Faced Flattery

I admit it, I was poking around on Photograzing (the Serious Eats version of sites like Food Gawker and Tastespotting), checking to see if the bread photo I'd submitted had been posted.  It had - but right next to my pale white bread photo was a luscious looking sandwich of roasted vegetables, goat cheese, and basil.  and it looked GOOD.  The photo was posted on The Kitchen Sink in a post entitled "Pondering a Picnics-Only Plan."

And not only did I find myself calling my husband over to see that picture, but I also thought - I could make something like that for dinner tonight.

So I did.

We had leftover zucchini, pattypan squash, and kohlrabi that Bill had grilled last Wednesday night.  I had about half a baguette.  I had fresh mozzarella that I made last Thursday (more on that in a paragraph or two), some 1/8 inch thick prosciutto left over from a recipe cooked here on...um...Saturday.  And half a 10 ounce log of Ile de France goat cheese that I was sent by a rep from Ile de France (more on that later, too).  What else - pepperoni and slices of romano for Alex.  I also had a bowl of fresh basil, brought over on Saturday by a friend.  Olive oil, salt, pepper, and balsamic vinegar rounded everything out.

Here's what I did.

I sliced the baguette lengthwise into thirds - I didn't want really thick bread.  Plus I wanted to be able to feed all four of us with what we had.

I put the slices on a cookie sheet and drizzled them (generously) with olive oil, and sprinkled them with salt and pepper.

I took some more olive oil, and some minced red onion (also left over from Saturday), sauted the onion for a couple minutes, and then sliced the grilled vegetables and placed them in the pan to heat up.  I cut up the thick prosciutto into inch-sized pieces...what else did I do...I guess that was it.

Okay, on one third of the olive oil drizzled baguette, I put down a layer of basil leaves, then pepperoni slices, and then thin slices of romano.  Ta da.

On the other slices...I put down a layer of basil leaves, and on top of them, slices of fresh mozzarella.

Now let me pause a moment and talk about this mozzarella, because every time I make it, I learn something.  I wanted to make cheese because Bill's brother and sister-in-law were here and yeah, sometimes I am a showoff.

And then it sort of backfires, which keeps me humble.  The last two times I made mozzarella, I used half whole milk/half 1%.  This time, for some reason, I thought I'd try half whole and half fat free.  I don't know why.  Maybe because I hadn't tried that combination yet.  Well, I got all my stuff set up, stirred in my citric acid and lipase...watched the coagulation begin...stirred in the rennet...watched the curds set up...strained the gorgeous curds...added my salt to the whey...and started kneading the curds, and...

They didn't want to stretch.  I knew the whey was plenty hot enough - it was hotter than usual, in fact, because I didn't want to spend too much time in the crumbly curd stage.  But the curds didn't get stretchy.  The held together and all, but they were not soft and elastic like they were supposed to be.  The texture was off - my sister-in-law said it was squeaky, and that's pretty much on the money.  I formed the cheese into balls as best I could, and stuck them in a bag in the fridge.  I tried a piece later - they were tough and unpleasant to chew.  Taste was bland.  My verdict?  Not enough fat.  I don't plan to use fat-free milk again in my mozzarella making.

But.

I got creative, because I was determined not to waste the two pounds of cheese I'd made.  So I sliced it all thinly and put it in a bowl of generously salted water, and stuck it all back in the fridge.  And that helped salvage the batch. 

So anyway, back to the open-faced sandwich I was talking about.  I put down the basil, and then this salvaged (moister, more flavorful) mozzarella.  On top of that went the sliced, grilled, reheated zucchini, pattypan and kohlrabi. On top of them?  The prosciutto.  And then?  Globs of goat cheese.

And here's another story. 

A month or so ago I got an email from someone at Ile de France cheese.  He asked if I'd be interested in receiving some samples of their cheeses and writing about them in my blog. 

And I thought - hey!  Free cheese?  Count me in!

The thing is, I've bought Ile de France's Brie often and I was already a fan.  I'd never had their goat cheese, though, so I asked if I could try that one.  I was told the cheese would ship on July 7th and I'd receive it on the 8th "in perfect condition."  And you know?  That's exactly what happened!

I saved the cheese for the following evening, when Bill's brother and sister-in-law were due to arrive.  I figured the more opinions, the merrier.

I served the goat cheese with a couple of different kinds of crackers, and, among the goat cheese fans in the group (Alex wanted no part of it, and my sister-in-law didn't want any), the consensus was that the Ile de France goat cheese was very, very nice.  It had a bright, fresh, kind of citrusy flavor (my opinion) - Bill's brother said it wasn't as "goaty" as other goat cheeses - I'm thinking he meant it was milder.  Half the log was gone before dinner that day.  It was soft and tangy and delicious.  I'd like to get some another time, along with a couple of other goat cheeses, and do a tasting, just to compare them all.  Hmmm.

Anyway, back to my sandwich.

I put the goat cheese on top of the grilled vegetables, and popped the cookie sheet in a 350 degree (F) oven for about 15 minutes.  The cheeses got nice and melty (okay, not the romano so much) and the whole thing smelled heavenly.  After I pulled the cookie sheet from the oven, I drizzled some balsamic glaze over the grilled vegetable sandwiches, sliced them into smaller sections, and served them up.

I think I could eat this sort of thing every day for the rest of the summer.  We've got squashes ripening on a daily basis - I can't think of a better way to serve them.  Really.  Sheer heaven.  The smokey grill flavor of the zucchini, pattypan and kohlrabi...the hint of bitterness from the kohlrabi (think brussels sprouts or cabbage)...the sweetness of the zucchini and pattypan, the basil, and the balsamic glaze...the soft salty/tangy cheeses and the savory salty proscuitto...and the earthy, fruity olive oil soaking into the bread. 

Julia had one slice.  Bill and I ate ALL the rest. 

I might have to make this again tomorrow

Thank you, Kristin, for the inspiration! 

Soft White Bread

(Adapted from a recipe by Bernard Clayton.)

I've posted a couple of bread recipes lately - one post was entitled "Gooder than Sushi" Bread and the other was a simple French bread recipe, or Pain Ordinaire.  Both are made from rather lean doughs, with little or no fats included in the ingredients.  This tends to produce a chewy bread that is best eaten the same day it's baked.  The "gooder than sushi" description came from my 6-year-old son, who absolutely LOVES sushi, but (that day) liked the bread even more. 

I got an email about the "Gooder than Sushi" bread from Susan, who had made a batch of the bread but wasn't as impressed by it as Alex was.  She mentioned that it was just dry and chewy, and asked if maybe she had done something wrong when she made it.  I told her no, that's the way some breads are, but it got me thinking that I should probably find and post a nice, easy recipe for a softer bread.

So here it is.  I made a few ingredient changes, based on what I had on hand at the time, and I think it came out pretty well.  The loaves were soft and stayed that way for the few days they each lasted.

Ready?

First thing you'll need to do is grease two 9" x 5" loaf pans and set them aside.

Now get out your ingredients...You will need:

1 cup hot water

1/2 cup milk

2 T sugar

2 tsp salt

2 T dry yeast

approx 6 cups all-purpose or bread flour

2 T unsalted butter

2 eggs

To Start:

Combine hot water and cool milk, add yeast and sugar and allow yeast to bloom.

Mix salt and flour together.

Once yeast has bloomed, add in a couple cups of the flour/salt mixture - and the eggs and butter (I left this out when I originally posted - sorry!!!!) -  stir to combine.  Gradually add in more flour until the dough is stiff (or pulls away from the sides of the bowl if you're using a stand mixer.

Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured and knead for about 10 minutes, until the dough is smooth and elastic.  (If you want to see a series of shots of me kneading dough, you can go here.)

Place the dough in a lightly oiled bowl and cover with plastic wrap.  Allow the dough to rise until doubled in bulk.

Punch dough down, re-shape into a ball, and place back in bowl to rise again until nearly doubled in size.

Punch dough down and divide into two pieces.  Shape into balls and let them rest for a few minutes to allow the gluten to relax.

Press each ball down into an oblong shape about the length of your baking pan,

and then roll tightly into a baguette shape and seal the edges together. 

Fold the ends under a bit and place in the pan, seam side down.

Repeat with the other ball of dough.

Cover the pans with a lightly greased piece of foil or plastic wrap, or with parchment or wax paper (you don't want it to stick)

and allow the dough to rise until it's well above the edge of the pan (a good inch or so).

While the dough is rising, preheat your oven to 400 degrees F.

Bake the loaves about 30 minutes or so, until golden brown.  Tap the bottom of a loaf if you're not sure - if it sounds hollow, the bread is done.  If it doesn't, bake another 5-10 minutes.

When the bread comes out, allow to cool at least half an hour before slicing. 

If you want a soft crust, brush the tops of the loaves with melted butter

and cover for half an hour while cooling. 

The butter will soak in and keep the crust from becoming crispy.  (It may look a little wrinkly in the process.)

This bread is soft and moist and great for sandwiches, toast, or just a smear of butter

A loaf will keep, wrapped with plastic, for several days (if you don't eat it all the first day.)  If you won't be eating both loaves right away, wrap one snugly with plastic and then with foil and freeze it until needed.

Enjoy!

Printable Recipe!

Ginger-Scallion Red Snapper - Whole, and on the Grill

The other day Bill brought home a 2 1/2 lb whole red snapper from our local Whole Foods.  (And yes, in case you were wondering, those are Julia's little fingers on the left.  When Bill told her what he had, she asked "Can I have the eyeballs?!")

Anyway.  Bill's brother and sister-in-law were coming to stay with us for part of the week, and were due in later that day, and we'd planned a feast of fish, grilled vegetables (zucchini, pattypan squash, and kohlrabi) from the garden, and the remaining goat cheese ravioli I had in the freezer. 

Bill was entirely in charge of the grilled items - all I did toward the meal was cook the ravioli.

And here's what he did with the fish.

First thing, he told me the fishmonger at Whole Foods scaled it for him, which was a great time-saver.  Next, he cleaned out any stray bits of guts left in the cavity. 

He took a couple of scallions from the garden, and a good-sized knob of ginger and sliced them up. 

He mashed some of that up with a mortar and pestle and set that aside, and saved the rest for later.

Then he cut several slits down both sides of the fish - down to the bone, but not through - and filled the slits and the cavity with the mashed mix of ginger and scallion.

Then he combined soy sauce, rice vinegar, the rest of the ginger and scallions, and some salt and pepper and poured that over the fish in a 13 x 9 inch pyrex baking dish. 

He marinated the fish for about 4 hours, turning it over once about half-way through.

When it came time to grill, he did the vegetables first, and by the time they were done, the coals had cooked down and the temperature was lower.  The coals were on one side of the grill, and Bill placed the snapper on the other half of the grill, put the lid on, and let it cook.  Flipping it over was a bit stressful, but the fish stayed intact.  In all, the fish took about half an hour to cook over indirect heat, and it came out perfectly.

(Those little round things are the grilled kohlrabi, which were arranged on the platter above the fish.)

Bill had cooked down the marinade while the fish was on the grill, and before serving he drizzled that over the fish.

The meal was fabulous - and there was not a bit of fish left to eat.  Including the eyes.

So get a whole fish and grill it up this summer - you won't be sorry! 

One for the Table

Hey, remember that post I did about the hail storm we had and the cocktails we made with the hail stones?

Well check this out...

Pretty cool, huh?  I got an email recently from the managing editor of this online magazine asking if they could cross-post my story. 

Of course I said yes.

And you should also check out the rest of the magazine - lots of interesting stories, restaurant reviews, recipes - all sorts of foodie goodness.

Thank you, One for the Table!

Big Chicken Sandwich

So, what do you do when you've got a loaf of bread that looks like a really big bagel?  And you've got some leftover beer can chicken? 

You make a really big chicken salad sandwich.

First, you pick all the chicken off the bones and chop it up, and make your favorite chicken salad recipe.  I made mine with scallions, mayo, a little celery, salt and pepper. 

Next, I sliced my bread in half and drizzled it with a healthy amount of olive oil and balsamic vinegar.

Then a generous layer of red leaf lettuce...

and then the chicken salad.  Pile it up!

Now, on the top side of the bread, drizzle with olive oil and balsamic again, and then smear it with some gorgonzola dolce...

The gorgonzola dolce adds a sharp bite, but there's also a sweetness to it that works nicely with the balsamic vinegar.

Now put the sandwich together...

And start slicing it up.

Depending on appetites, this sandwich would feed anywhere from 2 to 6 people.  More if you're having something else along with it.

Anyway, that's what we did with the bagel-like couronne. 

In case you were wondering.

Pain Ordinaire Careme (A Daily Loaf)

On one uncomfortably hot day at the end of June, I baked bread and made two batches of cheese.  No, I don't know why I must do these things, but do them I must.  If you want to read about the cheesemaking part of it, take a look over here.  If you want to read about the bread-baking part, stay right where you are.

This is another recipe from Bernard Clayton's book.  I wanted to make some baguettes to go along with the cheeses I would be making and decided to try out this recipe.

According to the book, the recipe makes four baguettes, boules, or couronnes.  I made 3 slightly smaller baguettes, and two different couronnes. 

Here's what Mr. Clayton has to say about this recipe:

The great eighteenth-century French cook and founder of la grande cuisine, Antonin Careme, wrote of grand dishes for princes and kings, yet he created an ordinary loaf of bread that has been passed down from one generation of bakers to the next for more than 175 years.

Careme, who has been called the cook of kings and the king of cooks, wrote:  "Cooks who travel with their gastronomically minded masters can, from now on, by following this method, procure fresh bread each day."

This excellent bread is made with hard-wheat bread flour to give the dough the ability to withstand the expansion it undergoes when it rises more than three times its original volume.  Baking at high heat provides the oven-spring that makes possible the formation of a large cellular structure, the distinguishing characteristic of pain ordinaire.

Shall we begin?  (My own notes are in italics.)

Ingredients:

6 cups bread or unbleached flour, approximately

2 packages dry yeast

2  1/2 cups hot water 120-130 degrees F)

2 teaspoons each salt and water

Baking Sheet or Pans:  1 baking sheet, teflon or greased and sprinkled with cornmeal, or 4 baguette pans, greased.  (I used a 3-loaf baguette pan lightly greased and dusted with cornmeal, and one baking sheet lined with parchment and sprinkled with cornmeal.)

By Hand or Mixer: (10 mins)

The early part of this preparation, beating a batter, can be done by an electric mixer.  However, don't overload a light mixer with this thick batter.  If by hand, stir vigorously for an equal length of time.

Measure 3 or 4 cups of flour into the mixing bowl and add the yeast and hot water.  The mixer flat beater or whisk should run without undue strain.  The batter will be smooth and pull away from the sides as the gluten develops.  It may also try to climb up the beaters and into the motor.  If it does, push it down with a rubber scraper.  Mix for 10 minutes.  When about finished, dissolve the salt in the water and add to the batter.  Blend for 30 seconds or more.  (I was a bit leery about the higher temp for the yeast, (usually it's 105-115) so I reverted to my usual method of dissolving the yeast in very warm water and then adding some of the flour to it.)

 

 

Kneading (10 mins.):

If the machine has a dough hook, continue with it and add additional flour, 1/4 cup at a time, until the dough has formed under the hook and cleans the sides of the bowl.  If it is sticky and clings, add sprinkles of flour.  Knead for 10 minutes.

If by hand, add additional flour to the beaten batter, 1/2 cup at a time, stirring first with a utensil and then working by hand.  When the dough is shaggy but a solid mass, turn onto a work surface and begin kneading with an aggressive push-turn-fold motion.  If the odugh is sticky, toss down sprinkles of flour.  Break the kneading rhythm occasionally by throwing the dough down hard against the countertop - an excellent way to encourage the development of the dough.

(I did a bit of both - I used the machine until the dough had reached the shaggy mass point, and then I kneaded it by hand the rest of the way.)

Here, for your entertainment, is my "aggressive push-turn-fold" routine:

 

 

(I've skipped food processor instructions - if you want them, shoot me an email and I'll send them.)

First Rising (2 hours):

Place the dough in a large greased bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and leave at room temperature for 2 hours.  The dough will more than treble in volume - and may even be pushing against the plastic covering.

 

(If prepared with a new fast-rising yeast and at the recommended higher temperatures, reduce the rising times by about half.)

Second Rising (1  1/2 hours):

Turn back the plastic wrap and turn the dough onto the work surface to knead briefly, about 3 minutes.

Return the dough to the bowl and re-cover with wax paper.  Allow to rise to more than triple its volume, about 1  1/2 hours.

Shaping (10 mins)

The dough will be light and puffy.  Turn it onto the floured work surface and punch it down.  Don't be surprised if it pushes back, for it is quite resilient.

 

Divide the dough into as many pieces as you wish loaves.  One-quarter (10 oz) of this recipe will make a baguette 22" long and 3" to 4" in diameter. 

(Since my baguette pans are shorter than 22", I reduced the amount of dough per baguette to 8 ounces.  I shaped 3 baguettes and divided the remaining dough into two balls approximately 13 oz each.)

Allow pieces of dough to rest for 5 minutes before shaping.

For boules or round loaves, shape the pieces into balls.  Place in cloth-lined baskets (bannetons) or position directly on the baking sheet.  For baguettes, roll and lengthen each dough piece under your palms to 16" to 20" , and 3" to 4" in diameter.  Place in a pan or on a baking sheet or in the folds of a long cloth (couche).

(The way I learned to make baguettes is slightly different.  I rolled the dough out to about a foot in length, then flattened slightly, then rolled from the side nearest me to the other side, pinching the seam and then rolling out to just under the length of my baguette pan.)

This loaf's characteristic couronne or "crown" can be made in several ways.  One is to flatten the piece of dough, press a hole through the center with your thumb, and enlarge the hole with your fingers.  Another is to roll a long strand 18" to 24" and curl into a circle, overlapping and pushing together the ends.  Yet a third way is to take 2 or 3 shorter lengths of dough and join them together in a circle, not overlapping top and bottom but pressing the ends together side by side into a univorm pattern - this one will be irregular but attractive.

(I made one couronne in the first manner suggested above.  To me it looks like an enormous bagel.)

(For the other one, I felt rather creative, so I divided that piece of dough into thirds, rolled them out and then braided them together and shaped the braid into a circle.  I should have planned a little better - the portion where the two ends of the braid are joined looks a little sloppy.  Sorry about that!)

Third rising (1 hour)

Cover the loaves with a cloth, preferably of wool, to allow air to reach the loaves and to form a light crust.  Leave at room temperature until the dough has risen to more than double its size, about 1 hour.

Preheat:

Before preheating the oven to 450 degrees F (very hot) 20 minutes before baking, place a broiler pan on the floor of the oven or bottom rack so it will be there later.  Five minutes before baking, pour 1 cup hot water into the hot pan.  Be careful of the burst of steam - it can burn.  I use a long-handled cup to reach into the oven when I pour.

Baking/450 degrees F/25-30 mins.

Carefully move the loaves in baskets and in couches to the baking sheet.  Make diagonal cuts down the lengths of the long loaves and tic-tac-toe designs on the boules.

Place on the middle shelf of the oven.

The loaves are done when a golden brown, 25 to 30 minutes.  Turn one loaf over and if the bottom crust sounds hard and hollow when tapped, the loaf is done. 

(If using a convection oven, reduce heat 50 degrees.)

Final step:

Place on a rack to cool. 

One of the exciting sounds in the kitchen is the crackle of French bread as it cools.  Crackle away!

Spread with butter and enjoy with any dish.

(Or you can serve it with some freshly made ricotta...)

Sharing and Caring

Last night while I was making dinner and Bill was mashing up mint leaves to make us some mojitos, Julia came upstairs and asked if she could have a cup of water.  I asked what she needed it for, but she just went over to the drawer where we keep all the plastic (i.e. child safe) cups and started looking on her own.

A moment later she was showing Bill why she wanted the cup.  "Look," she said, and held up her hand.  She was holding an escapee from Bill's 55 gallon fish tank in the basement.  Another of the hatchet fish had gone over the wall only to discover that no, the water isn't clearer over there, in fact, there is no water - only beige carpeting.

The fish was dry and stiff. 

Bill told her to hang on a minute and he'd flush it, but she backed up, slightly horrified, and said no, clutching the fish in her tiny hand. 

"Okay...you don't want to bury it?  Hey - go throw it on the compost pile."

"No!"

Around that point Alex came upstairs to see what was going on.

"Look," Julia said somberly.  "A dead hatchet fish." 

"Can I hold it?"

"NO!" 

"Just for a MINUTE!"

"NO!"

"Mom, Julia won't let me hold the hatchet fish!"

"Julia," Bill interrupted, "Let Alex hold the fish.  Alex, you need to give it right back."

"NO!"

"JULIA" Alex spoke loudly and sternly.  "Remember - IT'S NICE TO SHARE!"

(And what was I doing, besides trying to record all this in my head so I could write about it later?  I just stood facing the stove, cooking my little quesadillas and mini pizzas for dinner, and trying not to laugh too much.)

I guess Alex got to hold the stiff little fish for a moment because the bickering stopped.  Alex gave the fish back and went off to wash his hands, and Bill told Julia to go put the fish on the compost heap.

So out the door she went. 

A bit of time went by and Julia hadn't come back in, so I looked out the kitchen window and noticed that she was crouched down by the sprinkler (it was off).  She kept leaning forward, like she was trying to drink from it or something, and I called out to her to ask what she was doing.  She just looked at me and kind of backed up a bit. 

A couple minutes later she was still out there.  This time she was in the pool.  With her little plastic watering can.  Which had water in it.  And Julia was holding it up and peering into the water in the watering can.

And I thought, okay, she's still trying to revive the fish.

Sure enough, the fish was inside the watering can.  At first she couldn't find it because it had become stuck to the inside wall and she couldn't see it.  But Bill sloshed the water around, loosened the fish, and we were back to where we were originally.

Julia didn't want to put the fish on the compost.  So Bill said "Come on, we're going to bury him."  Into the bathroom they went.  Bill put the fish in the toilet, and (and I'm listening to all this from the kitchen) then he apparently took a couple of sheets of toilet paper and said to Julia "Now we'll give him a little blanket...okay, now say goodbye..."  And - flush.

Except - the fish didn't go down.  It was so light it just stayed at the top of the water and refused, somehow, to get caught in the little whirlpool and dragged into the great fish tank in the sky. 

Several times, Bill tried to flush the little thing, and no dice.  So we let it hang out there a while.  I thought maybe, somehow, if it absorbed some water, it would go down easier.  No, Jayne, that doesn't work.

Eventually, the fish did cross over to the other side.  I'm not going to elaborate.

But we kept thinking about Julia, and her initial request for a cup of water.  She is such an independent "I can DO IT MYSELF!" little girl...she didn't bring the fish up and ask for help.  No, she was going to take care of things on her own.

Sometimes it can be aggravating - her wanting to do everything herself.  For one thing, there are some things she just can't do - either because she's too small, or because I don't want her frying her own eggs just yet.  But oh, she wants to do everything.  And I have to remind myself to take a breath sometimes and step back, and marvel at all the things she CAN do, and how determined she is to at least try to do everything else in her little world.  I have to remember that sometimes, even if it's inconvenient for me, I need to let her do things - things I would do far more quickly - because it's good for her to try, and fail, and try another time.  I want her to be independent and capable. 

And I delight in her sweetness.  When she's not hitting her brother with a whiffle ball bat, she's a very caring, compassionate and thoughtful little girl.  She carries bugs and worms so carefully in her tiny hands, so as not to smush them. 

And she tried to bring a hatchet fish back to life.

TWD: Double-Crusted Blueberry Pie

They don't get much fresher than this.  On Saturday my kids spent the day over at Joe and Em's new house (nephew and girlfriend - and she is SO much more to us than simply "Joe's girlfriend" but that's the quickest description), and in the back yard they have about 12-16 enormous sprawling blueberry bushes.  They've been allowed to just go wild before Joe and Emily bought the place a couple of months ago, so these bushes are more like trees.  And best of all, there are a TON of blueberries out there ripening.  And - lucky for me - there were plenty of ripe berries for the kids and Emily to pick for this pie.  Over the next couple of weeks, there will probably be enough berries in total to supply all the TWD members with enough to make a pie or a crumble each.  Really.  TONS of them.

So anyway, the kids and Emily picked those berries on Saturday and I made the pie on Sunday.  I cut a  piece so I could take pictures, and Alex had a piece (half last night, half for breakfast this morning), and later today Bill will bring the rest of the pie over to Joe and Emily.  But I am sure there will be more blueberries in production at my house before the branches are bare.  Pies, tarts, jams, syrup...and frozen berries to have on hand for some distant "later."

Anyway - yay - I lucked out - fresher than fresh blueberries.  I added less than a quarter cup of frozen blueberries, and they really weren't even necessary, but my pie pan is rather deep and I wanted PLENTY.

And speaking of the pie - this week's recipe "Double-Crusted Blueberry Pie" was chosen by Amy of South in Your Mouth, and you can find the recipe on her site or in Dorie Greenspan's book Baking From My Home to Yours on pages 361-363.  The recipe for the "Good For Almost Everything Pie Dough" is on pages 442-443.

I absolutely love blueberry pie, so when I saw this selection I was VERY happy.  I bought several bags of Wyman's frozen blueberries, but didn't really need them in the end. 

I will admit I kind of raced through the recipe and the edges of my crust didn't look as pretty as they could have.  But I was trying to get the pie done quickly so I could bring Alex to a birthday party later in the afternoon.  We're also in the middle of cleaning and reorganizing the house because we've got a few sets of relatives coming to stay with us beginning later this week and running through the rest of the month. 

Anyway, first up, I made the dough for the crust.  I didn't use my food processor (it was in the dishwasher), I just used a pastry blender and my hands, and the dough came out fine. 

I could have chilled my shortening longer, but it didn't really seem to matter - the dough is lovely - flaky and tender.

I chilled the dough for maybe half an hour while I rinsed off the blueberries and picked off the few bits of stems that remained.  Then I combined the blueberries with the rest of the filling ingredients - the flour and sugar and pinch of salt, and the zest and juice of a lemon - only I didn't have a lemon, so I used a small orange, and actually, I really liked the flavor of orange in combination with the blueberries.

  

There seemed to be a little too much of the mixture of flour and sugar, and even though I combined it all pretty well with the blueberries, there were still some floury areas in the finished pie.  They didn't taste off or different, but they didn't look right. 

Anyway, as Dorie instructs, I sprinkled a layer of plain bread crumbes on the crust to absorb juices and prevent the bottom crust from getting soggy,

and then I poured in the blueberry mixture.

Then I draped the top crust over the whole thing, "glued" the two crusts together with water, pressed to seal them, and this time around, instead of crimping the edges, I used the tines of the fork to decorate the edges.  I cut slits in the top crust, and cut a small hole in the center.  Then I put the whole thing in the fridge for half an hour to chill.  Right before I put the pie in the oven, I brushed the top with egg wash and sprinkled sparkling sugar over it all.  Then the pie went onto a baking sheet and into the middle of my oven.

About an hour later I took the pie out and set it on a rack to cool.  It looked and smelled wonderful.

I started wishing we didn't have to share with anyone.  (Sorry Joe and Em!)

About half an hour later, I cut one slice of pie, you know, so I could take my pictures.  That's the only reason, of course.  And I had to eat some, too, again, for my pictures.  It was all done in the name of art, and science, and baking and all that.

 

Overall, this was a yummy pie.  And I was very happy to HAVE to make it for TWD this week.  It wasn't necessarily any better than any other blueberry pie I've made, and certainly no worse.  It was simply a really yummy pie.  My only dissatisfaction - and it was pretty minor - was that there seemed to be more of that sugar/flour mixture than the berries required.  I should have trusted my own instincts and just not used all of it.  But oh well, I'll do that next time.  And like I said, the pie tasted just fine.

I'll probably make it again, since there are SO MANY blueberries available to me, and next time, I'll use my own judgement about the flour/sugar addition.  I'll keep you posted.

And in the meantime, you might want to go check out what all the other - well over 200 now - members of Tuesdays With Dorie have done with this recipe. 

What Is It?

I didn't do anything to these shots other than crop them a bit so you couldn't see the surroundings.

So.

Any guesses?

Too Quiet

I was in the kitchen.

Bill was giving Alex a guitar lesson in the living room.  (Yes - Alex is learning to play.  It's unbearably adorable.  I'd post a picture but every time I try to capture him sitting in his chair, perfect posture, one foot on the stool, guitar resting on his leg, eyes intent and serious as he looks at either his music or at Bill - he (Alex) looks up at me and grins his goofy "I see the camera!" grin and it kind of spoils the impressiveness of it all.  But some day I'll get my picture.)

Anyway - guitar lesson going on, and I was probably cooking or something. 

Julia was upstairs, not trying to get in on the guitar lesson.  Hm.  That should have been the first clue.

At some point, Julia comes part way down the stairs and says hi to Bill. 

He turns to look at her.  And since he is in the middle of a lesson, he calls for me.

"Jayne?  I think Julia's got water all over her..."

I figure she went and stood in the shower stall in the upstairs bathroom and turned the water on briefly.  She's done that before.

I go into the living room and it doesn't look like she's THAT wet, but...something doesn't look quite right.

Um, Julia?  What were you doing upstairs?

"Nothing."

"I don't think it was nothing.  What were you doing?"

She sighs.

"Well, I was cleaning the sink with my brush and it got on me but I cleaned up all the black with my brush!"

She ends her little explanation with a smile, her voice rising slightly with pride in her accomplishment.

"Can you show me?"  I ask.

"Oh, SURE!"

She heads up the stairs.  I follow.  I think I already know.

The first sink looks fine, and both her new toothbrush and Alex's are lying near it on the counter.

Then I look over at the other sink.

Yep.  Just as I suspected.

Good thing it wasn't waterproof.

It will wash off her head.  Eventually.

Ricotta and Mozzarella: Practice Makes Perfect (Better Still, Practice Makes More Cheese)

I've gotten behind on my posts, so much so that I've done two more batches each of Ricotta and Mozzarella but haven't written about them yet. 

I'm not going to rehash the whole recipe and process every time.  If you want to see the original Ricotta-making post, go here.  And if you want to see the original Mozzarella-making post, go here.

I did, however, want to write about how things went with each successive batch.  In a nutshell, things improved.  But who wants a nutshell?  It's hardly satisfying.

Both times I've made cheeses again, I've made a double batch of mozzarella (if I'm going to make it, why not make plenty?) and a half batch of ricotta.

Second batch of mozzarella went so much smoother than the first chaotic experience.  I learned a lot from the first batch.  Things like...the milk will heat up to 55 degrees F pretty darn fast, so don't go reading ahead in the recipe or anything.  Just WAIT.  Which is what I did.  Added the citric acid right on time, temperature-wise.  I also made sure I had LOTS of bowls on hand, a couple of strainers, slotted spoons, and huge glass of ice water for myself, because it gets pretty hot standing there over a hot pot of milk curds.  Oh, yeah, and I was also making bread, too.  I'll post about that separately.  I made some baguettes to have with the cheeses. 

Anyway.  With this batch #2 of the mozzarella, I changed a few things.  I used half whole milk and half 1%.  I can't keep eating full fat mozzarella, and that's that.  I didn't notice a huge difference, either, though maybe I would if I did a taste test between a full fat and a part full, part low-fat batch.  Hmmmm....that sounds like a fun project, actually. 

I also added lipase to the batch.  Lipase an enzyme used to give Italian cheeses in particular to enhance the flavor.  It comes in powder form and keeps for ages in the freezer.  You only need a little - I think I used half a teaspoon for this batch.

I also upped the rennet a bit, because I'd read that if you add lipase, the cheese can have a softer consistency, and so if you add more rennet, that helps balance things back out.

Those, and the switch from all whole to half whole and half 1%, were the only changes I made.

Things went a LOT better.  For one thing, the way the curds formed after I added the rennet.  Well, wait, I'm getting ahead of myself.  I added the citric acid and the lipase (both are dissolved in cool water, and the lipase needs to sit for 20 minutes before using as well) at the 55 degrees F mark and stirred that in.  Right away, little tiny curds started to form.  You can see them there on the thermometer....

I kept the thermometer in the liquid and gave it a little stir occasionally, just to see how the curds were doing.  I was waiting for the temp to go up to 90, so I could add the rennet.  Once the rennet joined the party, the fun began.

Woohoo!  Curds and whey!  A lot of it!

Best of all, as time went on, the curds basically bunched together and tightened into one big mass and started pulling away from the sides of the pot. 

Pretty cool, huh?

I also learned another lesson.  In the book it says to add the rennet when the temp reaches 90, and then continue heating to between 100-105.  So I'm standing there sweating away (probably added additional flavor to the cheese...I'M ONLY KIDDING), holding the thermometer in the middle of the pot.  And waiting.  And waiting.  And waiting.  And the temperature wouldn't go above 90!  Maybe up to 91, but nothing more. 

I didn't mind so much - I was busy gazing lovingly at the giant mozzarella-to-be floating in the whey.  But I was also pretty hot and icky and sort of wanted to get things finished up.  I checked the temperature with another thermometer, thinking maybe the new one I'd bought wasn't any good.  But no, the other one registered 90 also.

And then some little voice whispered "check the temperature of the whey near the side of the pot!"  And so I did, and OH, okay.  Got it.  The curds apparently get to 90 and stop or something.  Or maybe they somehow insulate themselves from the heat.  Whatever it was, the whey was plenty hot enough.  I don't know the exact temperature- once I saw the temperature zipping past 100 and not slowing, I moved the pot off the burner and shut off the flame.

YAY!  Time to strain!

I'm still on the lookout for a really BIG slotted spoon, but this one I bought recently was an improvement over the strainer - it did a better job of draining out the whey as I scooped up the hot curds.

 

As you can see, there is still a lot of whey to be strained out of the curds, but it took less time because I had a better handle on what needed to be done.  I also didn't splash whey all over the counter, the floor, and myself.  Not a lot, anyway.

While I worked on pressing the curds together and pouring off the whey, I was also heating the pot of whey (with salt added) up to 175.  I made several balls of curds and set them aside.  It's sort of like forming snowballs...sometimes the snow isn't exACTLY the right consistency to retain it's ball shape.  Same deal with the curds.  They're still kind of wet, and crumbly at the same time.  So they'll stick together, but you have to do it carefully, otherwise they'll just break into pieces.

It is taking me 3-4 dips in the hot salted whey (okay, I'm not going in it, I mean dipping the ball of curds in the whey 3-4 times) to achieve the proper stretchy consistency.  After the first dunk, I mostly just squeeze out more whey and fold the curds (carefully) over and over a couple of times in my hands, give them another squeeze and then put the ball back into the whey.  After the second dip, I can start to see the strings forming.

See them?  Little stringy bits?  But you can also see it's still rather crumbly, too.  So I knead it in the bowl or in my hands, and this time around the ball starts to hold together better. 

Back into the whey again, and I start to fold it and stretch, fold it and stretch...

It's pretty close now - much stretchier. 

I can't tell you how cool this is.  Well, I guess I can.  It's really, really cool. 

 

And what did I do with this batch?  I'd made it a double batch so we could enjoy some that night and so I'd also have some for the next night, when Bill's brother and his girlfriend and his son and HIS girlfriend came over for dinner.  We did beer can chickens (Bill cooked those) and I made a pasta salad with olive oil and balsamic vinegar instead of mayo...and two zucchini (from the garden)

and a beautiful little pattypan squash (from the garden)

grilled and then cut up into chunks and tossed into the pasta.  I also added some scallions (from our garden), and salt and pepper, and a sprinkling of my ricotta over the top.  (The second batch of ricotta went off without a hitch.)

 

I also made a salad of fresh mozzarella, fresh basil, and sliced organic hot-house tomatoes.  I drizzled the whole thing with olive oil and sprinkled it with freshly ground black pepper and some generous pinches of Mediterranean Sea Salt. 

In case you're wondering, after I'd done my two long rows of tomato/mozzarella/basil, I still had a bit of everything left over.  So I chopped it up, tossed it together and set it down the center.  I figured maybe some people would prefer the slices and others would prefer the chopped stuff.

And ALSO (will it never end???) I served a ball of ricotta in the center of one of my breads.  I'd made three baguettes and two circular loaves, both with holes in the center.  One looked like a giant bagel, and the other I'd braided and then joined the two ends.  I sliced that loaf - the braided one - one quarter at a time and set the whole sliced braided loaf in a pie plate where it fit perfectly.  I set the ball of ricotta in the center.

OH - I almost forgot - I'd ALSO made little mozzarella balls - bocconcini - and let them bathe in a blend of olive oil and chopped herbs from the garden.  Bill and I ate those the night before, spread on one of my baguettes. 

Okay, so all that was from my second batches of mozzarella and ricotta.

I made the third batch of each on Friday, July 4th, while Bill and Alex were out digging quahogs (actually most of them were little neck size) for chowder.  Julia was home with me, but there's not much I can let her do while I'm making mozzarella without her being in danger of getting burned.  She did, however, help me make pizza dough later in the day.

I'd finished the mozzarella and a small batch of ricotta before Bill and Alex returned from digging.  Alex learned how to use a clam rake and did his share of the work, thus earning his dinner.  They had 52 clams in all (not the "thousands" that Alex told me initially) - more than enough to make chowder. 

Since we had a surplus, we ate the smallest ones raw, on the half shell.  Yum.  Alex loved them, too.  Julia, not so much. 

Bill steamed clams and diced potatoes to make chowder and then shucked the rest of the clams and set them out with lemon wedges on a platter.

And what was I doing all this time?  Well, I had made pizza dough earlier, so I cut off enough for two pizzas, stretched out the dough on two cookie sheets, and gave them to the kids to work on.  I don't have pictures.  Julia topped hers with tomato sauce, sliced fresh mozzarella, sauteed mushrooms, and zucchini coins I'd sauteed earlier.  Alex spread a thin layer of sauce, then added mostly sliced pepperoni, some zucchini, and small pieces of cheddar.

I made another pizza (it was SO HOT in our house by this time, what with all the cheesemaking earlier in the day, and the pizzas baking, and the chowder cooking away on top of the stove) - oh, yeah, speaking of hot in the kitchen - I had also roasted 8 heads of garlic in the morning.  I squeezed all the garlic out and pureed it.  I'll freeze some and keep the rest handy.  I love the stuff. 

Where was I?  Oh, yes.  I made another pizza - pureed roasted garlic smeared on the dough first, topped with sauteed mushrooms (a blend of oyster, crimini and shitake) and ricotta, then drizzled with olive oil.  THAT one was pretty tasty, I have to say.

And I made one final pizza, but we were too full to eat it that night.

I'd bought garlic scapes at the Farmers' Market that morning, and I wanted to use them on a pizza.  I sauteed the garlic scapes in butter, salt and pepper earlier.  When I made the pizza, I topped dough with a nice smear of the roasted garlic puree, then "artistically arranged" several of the garlic scapes on top, arranged bits and pieces of fresh mozzarella here and there and added ricotta in and around the mozzarella.  Then I placed 7 of the raw little necks in the loops of the garlic scapes, drizzled it all with olive oil, and sprinkled with salt and pepper. 

It smelled really really good while it was baking but, like I said, we were just too stuffed to eat anything more. 

We saved it and had it last night (the 5th) for dinner after the kids were in bed.  It was fabulous.  The two "shades" of garlic - the roasted garlic puree and the sharper scapes...the soft, mild cheeses...and the occasional brine of the clams. 

 

Heavenly.

Welcome!

Just wanted to say hi to all of you coming here via StumbleUpon!  So many of you dropping by here - and me without a food post at the top of my site!  Scroll on down - there's a lot of food here!  And I hope you decide to come back again!

Fireworks, Farmers' Market, and the Fourth

 

Wednesday night our family and another family (my son's best friend and his parents) went to watch the Pawtucket Red Sox play the Syracuse Chiefs (we lost 6-5) at McCoy Stadium. 

And there were fireworks after the game.  It's a four night event that runs, I think, the 2nd through the 5th.  It was sold out on Wednesday, and we had free tickets, as that night's fireworks display was sponsored by Dave's Marketplace, and each store had 300 tickets to give away.  Woo hoo! 

They were general seating/bleachers tickets, and we should have gotten there earlier than we did - we ended up walking all over the place looking for 7 seats together or 3 and 4 together...no luck.  So we ended up sitting on the bleachers out near right field.  And that was probably for the best, as the kids could get down and run around a bit and work off some of their excess energy.

After the game, we actually ended up sitting/standing right out on the field, near first base, all thanks to the fact that my son's friend's mom has MS and somehow it worked out that we could sit down there with all the Dave's Marketplace employees and their families, along with a couple other people with physical issues. 

The lights went out at ten, and the fireworks, accompanied by several assorted patriotic songs, began.

And right about then, Julia started crying in terror.  Bill held her for a while as I snapped a bunch of pictures, but eventually I couldn't bear the "MOMMMMMYYYYYYYYY" sobs any more so I put the camera away and took Julia from Bill.  We watched (or, in Julia's case, peeked at in between sobs) the rest of the display - it lasted about twenty minutes, and then began the long trek back to the back of beyond where our car was parked.  Julia was asleep minutes after Bill buckled her into her car seat.  And she didn't sob the ENTIRE time, either.  Gradually she slowed down - I'm sure part of it was because it was so late and she must have been wiped out.  Periodically, in between my mantra of "it's okay, it's okay, it's okay" in Julia's ear, she would peek up at the bursts of light and color and just watch.  At one point I asked, in a soothing, whispery voice, "What's your favorite color of the fireworks?"  She whispered "pink" and then hollered "I WANNA GO HOOOOMMMME!" 

Alex and his friend, however, were enthralled.  I wish I'd still had my camera handy at one point - both boys were just standing there, mouths open, staring up at the sky.  Their faces were lit by the different bursts of color, and their eyes were just wide.  It would have been a gorgeous shot.  But my duties lay elsewhere.  Actually, my duty was clinging to me like a hungry boa constrictor. 

But overall it was a great night (even if it took an eternity to get out of the parking lot afterwards).  And the next day Julia seemed (now that the loud noise was over) much more impressed with the fireworks.

I've left a few more pictures of the fireworks at the end of this post, after the jump, in case you're interested.

Today, the fourth, is rather cloudy and cooler than it has been.  There was rain last night, and something like a 70% chance of showers and thunderstorms today.  We've already seen our fireworks, so we're all set there. 

This morning I went to the Farmers' Market all by myself, which was kind of nice.  There weren't very many farms there today, probably because of the weather.  But I bought two dozen eggs and ten honey sticks from Bill, the Honey Stick Man, and I also asked about his goats and whether he sells the meat.  I may pursue that once these kids are big enough...or I might see about buying some goat's milk and make some cheese.  Not sure yet, but it's in the back of my mind.

I bought a couple loaves of bread from Palmieri Bakery - one multigrain, and one seeded pumpernickel.  Yum.

I bought, let's see, 6 pints of strawberries, two pints of little potatoes - one of red fingerlings and one of little yellow boiling potatoes - and two lavender plants and a creeping rosemary.  The herbs are going in the front garden along the stepping stones.  The strawberries will become jam, if all goes according to my plans this weekend, and the potatoes - I don't know yet, but I have them and will not doubt become inspired at some point.

I talked to Jack, the lobster guy, about possibly getting a bunch of lobsters later this month when Bill's family is here to visit.  He gave me his card and said if I want 10 or more to just give him a head's up and he'll save them for me.  Cool.

And I went over to Ledge Ends Farm and they had BEAUTIFUL raspberries - I bought a pint - and about a quarter of them are gone already, scavenged by my berry-loving son.  I also bought a bunch of garlic scapes, which I've never had before but I've seen plenty of other food bloggers using them and I thought I should give them a try.  Anything garlic related is fine by me.  I'll probably use them on grilled pizzas tonight.

And speaking of tonight...I also bought a couple gallons of milk to make mozzarella with (this will be my 3rd batch) and a half gallon of milk to make into ricotta.  I'll use both on grilled pizzas tonight, along with the garlic scapes...and some basil and some local tomatoes.  I also bought 8 cloves of garlic that I plan to roast (if I'm going to be heating up the kitchen making mozzarella, I may as well cook other stuff too at the same time.  Cook all my birds with one stove, so to speak.  (Huh?)  Oh, yeah, and I have to make the pizza dough.

So anyway, that is the plan for today, for me.  Julia will help, or not, depending on her mood.  And a bit later, Bill and Alex will go to dig quahogs, and Bill's planning to make chowder tonight, too.  So we should have a wonderful, fresh, locally produced FEAST.

What are your plans?

Oh, and don't forget - more fireworks pictures after the jump.

Getting Back on Track

Or trying to, at least.

Yesterday morning I got up before everyone else in the house and went for a walk.  I walk a loop that's a little over 2 miles (2.2?  I don't know - I measured it one time but don't remember.) that runs down the length of the long street we live on, then you get to the end of that and go left, past the big pond, close to the busy intersection/series of one-way streets and merges that don't seem to belong in such an old-timey part of town, around the used car dealership and loop around at that up the street past the donut place i like (I like their coffee better than Dunkin Donuts - I know, sacrilege), past the new fire station (please don't suddenly have a fire - I don't want to get run over as the trucks pour out of their brick house), past the entrance to the police station, which is set back a ways...past that bank, around that curve near the pond (same pond as before, just the other side of it), and up, up, up the hill and up the street to where my own street meets it, and down my street just a little ways and back to my house.  Got that? 

It's a nice walk, lots to see, and of course looking out on the water is always good for my mental health.

So I tied my sneakers on and set off at a brisk pace.  I can't saunter.  I've tried.  I guess I can, if I'm walking with the kids, for instance, and they aren't RUNNING - since their legs are shorter, they tend to cover less ground when they walk.  Or strolling along at the farmers' market, for instance.  I don't like to hurry there.  But going for a walk?  Then we must WALK. 

So off I went.

I had to, you know.  Partly because I'm sick of looking like this and I'm sick of the sound of myself bemoaning my various jiggly areas because I know perfectly well that if I want that to change, I'm the only one who can do it.  So - first step is to get off my asssssstronomically huge, um, chair, and start exercising again. 

And also I had to go and walk because my sister got up the morning before and ran 2 miles after not running in months, and since I am...not necessarily competetive, exactly - I cannot call myself a runner - more like a hippo with delusions of gazelle-hood.  But if she was gonna get up and do it, then, dammit, so was I.  So I did my 2 point something miles.  Plus it's nice to have a running/walking partner, even if she's not close by enough to really run/walk with.

The morning was nice - a little breeze, still cool, though I could feel humidity and knew it would be muggy later on - and the walk started off fine, with me striding along, occasionally tugging on the hem of my spandex shorts (underneath the looser, nylon ones that were too short for me to go walking like that in because then people could see my thighs and I might cause small children to run and hide in fear), so that they wouldn't ride up.  LIKE ANYONE CARES, JAYNE!  But I am pathetic like that.

I could feel some tightness in my lower back, and focused on sucking in my stomach (and the unwelcome layer of fat hiding it) to decrease the stress on my spine and hips...and I could feel some twinges in my shins.  But that was okay - just loosening things up, reacquainting various parts with the concept of moving fluidly and as a group.

Mental note:  wear a different bra next time.  (I know, I'm sharing rather personal stuff today, aren't I?)  The one I was wearing was actually a nice spandexy bra/tank top combo thing, that, during my normal workout of running up and down the stairs several (thousand) times a day, seems to hold things in place just fine.  However.  (Oh, and over that I had on another spandexy (or whatever stretchy/clingy fabric is used in these things) tank top, kind of long, which I like because if I pull it straight down over my hips, it allows me to imagine that I look thinner.  Of course, like a rebellious window shade, it rolls right back up to my waist within seconds.)  What was I saying?  Oh, right.

So here I am, tugging at my shirt, tugging at my shorts, attempting to stride purposefully like I'm such an athelete.  And then I looked down.  I had been walking along looking forward - chin parallel to the ground - giving (hopefully) the illusion that I am confident and also hoping there's nothing on the street that will trip me, because it's hard to maintain a confident stride when your palms and chin are scraping along the pavement.  So, like I said, I looked down.  Just for a second, because OH MY GOD all of a sudden I felt like I was on a small boat riding the gentle swells of the ocean on a bright, hot summer day.  No, not serene and content.  One would think that, wouldn't one?  But no, I am not serene and content when the boat and water and sun are being all nice like that.  It makes me seasick.  Give me fog, rain, and rough, choppy water and I'm fine.  Weird, huh?

So why did the looking down make me seasick?  Something to do with the bra, since I went to all the trouble to mention it moments ago?  Yes, actually.  And this was so incredibly odd and unexpected that throughout the rest of the walk I had to deliberately look down from time to time just to see if it was still happening.  You see, as I walked along - step, step, step, step - at a brisk tempo, my, um, chestal area was sort of shaking back and forth - left to right - at double time.  So it became kind of like step, step, step, step, shakeshake, shakeshake, shakeshake, shakeshake.  step (shakeshake), step (shakeshake), step (shakeshake), step (shakeshake).  I even felt lightheaded and queasy typing that.

Can you see how disconcerting that would be??  I've never had that happen before.  And there was no way to stop it, so the only thing I could do - to avoid seasickness and to give myself the gift of denial) was to NOT LOOK DOWN.  Just pretend THEY weren't there, doing that odd shimmy they'd suddenly created.  I couldn't just go home and change clothes, either.  No, I was already out there, on my way.  If I went back I might just call it a day and blame the foundation garment.

So I kept on.  I know.  My bravery and determination in the face of adversity are inspiring.

First hill approaching - kind of a steep incline.  But steep is okay - my glutes (wherever they are are under there) could use the workout.  Plus, steep = over with quickly.

Hill done, I am breathing harder, but no big deal.  I reach the end of my street and go left.  I wish people would sweep the sand off the sidewalk.  I'm always imagining that I will hit a patch of sand with my heel at just the wrong angle, my foot will slip straight out in front of me and I'll fall down and crack the concrete.  And my coccyx.  Either one of which would be unpleasant, to say the least.

Uh oh.  Two other people out walking, coming toward me.  They are both wearing white, and I would bet they are married.  An older couple, she looks pretty slender, he's got a bit of a gut, but nothing too scary  Nice to see couples getting healthy together like that. 

Now, since I don't do this often enough, and because I am either shy or introverted or curmudgeonly or socially inept, can someone tell me the walk/run etiquette rules for crossing paths with other walking or running folk?  It always, for me, seems to be this timid eyeball dance as the two parties approach each other:  the brief look of "uh-oh, there's someone coming - I have about 50 feet to figure out what to do," and then the either looking down (which was not an option for me, as that could make me nauseous) or the looking resolutely forward while the distance between the two parties shortens, and then, at some unmeasured point in the approach, the personal space is opened up and the eyes dance back to bow and curtsey again, and at this point, it seems necessary to make some sort of "official" indication of acknowledgement.  Like say "hi," or smile, or nod.  You know, just to be polite.

And I suppose I was raised to smile at people.  And I hate it.  There, I said it.  In my (very active) brain, when I smile like that at strangers I pass as we are walking or running on our self-appointed journeys, I look like a simpleton.  I don't always WANT to smile.  So I try to very quickly read what the other person's face seems about to do and try to respond accordingly.  If they are launching into a smile, then okay, I can smile.  If they don't, then I go for a nod, or a "hi" or "morning."  I've gotten pretty good at it, though I do read wrong from time to time.  And then I find myself doing a sort of half-smile-mouth-twitch thing and mumbling "hi" or "morning" and hurrying along because now not only do I look like a simpleton, but I also have a nervous tic.  Keep the children away!

So here we are, with the nice white-clad couple approaching.  TWO of them.  Which one do I read?  My eyes shift back and forth in time with my shakeshake-ing chest (don't look down!) and helplessly I feel the corners of my mouth turn up.  In desperation I look at the woman (she is looking down - her chest is pretty flat) and then at the man, who makes eye contact and gives a quick nod AND a firm-handshake-style "Morning!" as we all cross paths.  The woman sneaks a look at me (probably terrified by my tremulous chest) and then back at the sidewalk.  I say "hi" and continue to grin like a loon and then the horrible moment (and the white-clad people) have passed and I can relax.

And then I spend the next several minutes wondering why the woman didn't make eye contact (much) or say hi or anything.  I don't think she knows me, so why wouldn't she like me?  I'm friendly, I SMILED, dammit!  SMILE BACK AT ME!  Please?

Jeez, it's exhausting living in my head.

So anyway, I'm nearing the pond - yay - and as I go marching along, I also check out other people's flower beds and vegetable gardens and make mental notes on how they adorn their yards and houses.  It keeps me entertained, it gives me ideas, and it doesn't require my looking straight down. 

And hey, whaddaya know?  Someone else has a birdbath like the one we just bought!  Cool!  Have to tell Bill.  I like to have something to report on when I return from the field.  I am nearing the pond, my shins are tired, my hips are complaining, and my back is still giving me twinges on my right side, and there's a pebble in my sock, rubbing against my right heel.  But I continue to think that that's a good thing (except the pebble).  Until I see the man.  Why are there other people out and about???  And why is everyone wearing white?  I can't wear white - I will spill something on it.  I will also look like Moby Dick floundering about on land, so no, I don't wear white.  But he is.  Another older gentleman, and the eyeball dance begins.  Only this time, he doesn't speak.  His eyes dart over at me and then dart back over the wall to look at the water.  Cool.  That was easy.  No smiles or greetings.  Phew!

And now things get noisier and less pretty.  I'm at the tip of the curve of this loop - where the used car dealership place is.  As I round the turn I see the back of a sign the car dealership has set out on the sidewalk.  The back says "massage" and while most of the letters are a reddish brown, the "g" is gray.  On the other side is an offer for a free car wash or something.  Not newsworthy, but interesting.  Why does it say "massage" on the back of that sign?  And what happened to the original "g?" 

I go by the donut place, the fire station, the police station, and the bank - all uneventful.  The sun is breaking through the morning overcastness and my eyes get squinty as the sun shines in them.

I could walk faster so that I could get to the next curve in my route and then the sun would be somewhere behind me.  Only I have been noticing that my toes are a little numb and oh, yeah, my legs seem to want to stride off in different directions.  They keep going forward only because my body, pulled by an invisible wire, is forcing them to go toward HOME.  But they protest, oh yes, they do.  My right one in particular.  Occasionally as I am walking (still briskly and purposefully) the right foot will turn out to the right and I will sort of lead with my ankle.  I have no control over it.  Then it changes its mind and the toes point the way once more.  I feel like one of Julia's baby dolls...any moment now the unseen little girl who owns me will twist one leg straight up above my head, remove all my clothes, cut off half my hair and then leave me lying on the rug. 

I reach the other part of the pond - the beach side, though it's really not a very enticing place to go into the water.  They (whoever does these things) haven't raked it out yet, and so all the muck and decaying goose and swan and duck poop just sort of hover there along the shore.  If you want to take the kids in for a dip, it's MUCH cleaner over where the boat ramp is behind the police station.  In case you're interested.

No geese or swans or ducks out at the moment, and the lifeguard (yeah, they have one, though if the lifeguard was really going to do some good he/she would STOP everyone from going near the water) isn't on duty yet and there are no solitary people sleeping (not dead, I watched for the breathing that time last year) on the rocky sand.

And here's the other hill.  The long, slow hill.  I mark my progress by telephone poles and that mailbox up near the top.  And up I go, maintaining my step (shakeshake) pace and trying to keep my legs from twisting all around.  No more people so far, so that nervous tic thing has subsided.

I make it to the top (yay!) without collapsing and I get my breathing back under control as I cover the length of part A of my two part home stretch.  I see the signs of the two businesses at the end of my street - almost there, almost there...ACK - it's that couple again - they must have a looping route, too!  Maybe I can reach my street before they get to me?  No, too far.  I am tempted to cut down another street, one that runs parallel to mine, and take a slightly different route home, but no, that's childish.

We have no need of the darting eyeball dance - and I swerve out of the way so I won't be walking between them this time (maybe that was why that woman didn't like me.  I came between her and her man - for a fraction of a second, but still.) and as I go by, the man says something like "we're still plugging along!" in a jolly voice, and I smile - with no facial tics - over at him and say something like "yep, we are!" because we're all just regular ol' people out here getting our exercise and we should kind of cheer each other along.

The woman just keeps looking at the pavement 8 inches in front of her toes and then I am past them again.

I think, maybe if I walk earlier, I won't have to go through this every day.

And then I'm at my street, (yay!) and I am, despite everything, feeling good.  Good about myself, good for getting up and GOING for my walk, dammit, and good with that post-exercise vibratey buzz going on in every cell of my body.

Oh, except for the blister on my heel.  I thought it was a rock in my sneaker, but no.  It's a puffy little blister.

And now it's the next day.  I didn't go walking today (but my sister ran two miles again, damn her!)  (Just kidding - yay!) because I am stiff and sore and also we were up late last night and we all slept late this morning. 

But I'm thinking of doing some pilates and yoga later.  Need to strenghthen my core, you know.

And I should test drive some other bras.

That, or stock up on dramamine.

TWD (make that WWD in this case) Apple Cheddar Scones

Yes, here I am, late to the party.  But at least I got here before NEXT Tuesday.

Apple Cheddar Scones.  The recipe is from Dorie Greenspan's book "Baking From My Home to Yours", and can be found on page 32, or you can visit Karina's blog, The Floured Apron, if you don't have the book right there in front of you.  (Of course, if you DON'T have it in front of you, that just must mean it's way in the other room, or at home - if you're at work.  It couldn't POSSIBLY mean you don't own a copy, because by all accounts, no home should be without one.)

Anyway.

I made the scones this morning at a bit of a rush, because a) I should have either done them yesterday or I should have done them BEFORE yesterday, and b) because I had a dentist appointment at 9:30 and I wanted to get them done and photographed before I had to leave.  And I was up at 5:30, went for a walk, back by 6:30, so you'd think I could even have managed to post before the dentist appt, but if you thought that even for a fraction of a second, well, you'd be wrong. 

So shut up, Jayne, and get to the scones.

Or "stones" as Alex was calling them.

First of all - yum - the apple/cheddar combination sounded great to me from the start.  I bought dried apple slices yesterday and put my block of cheddar in the freezer so it would be easier to grate.  Of course (note to self) I didn't need to put it in the freezer yesterday, because this morning when I was trying to grate it, it was like grating a stone with a piece of chamois.  I got it done, but the cheese came away from the grater in little wispy bits that pretty much disappeared into the mix.  So no lovely melty cheese shots.  Next time I'll know better.

My favorite part of the recipe was the quarter cup of cornmeal in the dough, which gave a nice bit of crunch to each bite.  And even though I couldn't see the cheese, the flavor was there, along with the bits of apple.  Both my kids liked them - Alex had two for breakfast, topped with strawberry jam.  Bill and I liked them as well, so I'll make these again.  Probably during the next several weeks, as we'll have various family members staying with us.

Julia helped with the mixing, as she often does.  She wanted me to take a picture of her as she stood on her chair, ready to whisk dry ingredients together. 

Like so:

She also cracked the egg and mixed all the liquids together for me, while I took forty days to grate the 3/4 cup of cheddar.

No pictures of those steps - sorry.  I'm off my game today, apparently.  Probably was dental terror.

Anyway.

Once I had the cheddar grated and the apples chopped up, I cut the butter into small cubes and added that to the bowl...

and used my fingers to mash up and combine the butter with the flour mixture.  Big bits and little bits and all kinds of in-between bits resulted.

Julia poured in the liquids and the apples and cheese, and I stirred quickly and gently to combine everything into a very sticky dough.

I turned the dough out onto my floured counter and Julia and I each took a turn kneading the dough.

Then, departing from Dorie's instructions just a tad, I cut the dough into three roughly equal pieces and patted each piece into a circle half an inch thick, cut each circle into quarters, and placed all the pieces on my parchment-lined sheet pan.

Then I baked them for 23 minutes, let them cool for another ten, and then we ate.

While they were baking, my kids came into the kitchen sniffing the air, and asking what I was cooking.  (Julie didn't really know what she was helping me with - she just likes to crack eggs and mix stuff.)  I told them "apple cheddar scones" and Alex asked what "stones" were and I explained, and he said he thought he would probably like them.

And, of course, before anyone was allowed to EAT a scone, I had to take some pictures.  So I set up a few different shots...

and kicked myself for not having some fresh berries handy to add a bit of color to these shots...

and what was I thinking, using an off-white plate for these pictures, anyway?

Hey, Jayne, sure you've got enough butter on there?  It's not overflowing from the plate yet...

And then I thought - oh, yeah, I need some JAM in this picture.  So I got out the strawberry jam and added a welcome splash of color to the neutral shades...

 

And THEN - we ate!

TWD - Later Today

This week's recipe - Apple Cheddar Scones - was chosen by Karina of The Floured Apron.  I'll be posting my photos and feedback later today, but in the meantime, go see what all the more punctual Tuesdays With Dorie members have done and said!  You're sure to be impressed, as they are a fabulous and entertaining bunch of bakers!

And Just So We're Clear on This

I personally prefer definition 1b, in case anyone is interested.

Fluke Roll-Ups

When I was a kid, I remember my mother taking thin filets of flounder, topping them with a thin layer of some sort of ritz cracker stuffing, and then rolling them up individually, filling a pyrex baking pan with them and baking them.  We'd have them with rice, usually, and whatever vegetables and salad she had planned for dinner.

Recently, my brother-in-law, Jacques, gave us a gallon-sized plastic freezer bag crammed with frozen fluke filets.  The fish were caught by a fisherman friend of his.  Anyway, we stuck the bag right back in the freezer until we knew what we were going to do with the contents.

This past Sunday, I cooked them up.  I also utilized some of the pak choi we recently harvested from the garden.

(It was that one posing in the front of the photo.)

The other elements that inspired this dish were the Heat and the Humidity.  I didn't want to bake anything in the oven, and we didn't want to grill, so that's when I remembered the rolled up fish filets my mom used to make, and I thought "Aha!"

So here's what happened after I thought "aha."

First, I made a stuffing.  I don't really have an exact recipe - I just threw things in as they occurred to me.  But basically the stuffing was as follows:

Leafy parts of one head of pak choi, roughly chopped up into inch-size pieces (reserve the stalks - they'll be used, too, but later)

One sleeve of Ritz crackers (or other buttery-style crackers.  I am loyal to Ritz, personally.)

About a quarter cup of plain bread crumbs.

The juice of one lemon

About half a stick of butter, melted

The leftover cup or so of clam chowder that we brought home from the restaurant we ate at after we went to the zoo a day or so beforehand.  It was the white, or New England, style of chowder.

Salt and pepper to taste

I mixed the ingredients all together and set them aside.

Next up, I roughly chopped up one onion and the stalks from the pak choi.  I poured some olive oil in my big 14" saute pan and tossed in the onion and stalks and cooked them gently (lid on) til they were soft.

While they were busy softening, I got my fish out, rinsed it off, patted it dry.

These are three of them - there were...um...seven in total.

And then I started to roll...

I placed a filet on the board, lengthwise, patted some of the filling on most of it, and rolled from the end closest to me to the far end.  Why did I leave part of the fish filling-free?  Couple reasons.  For one thing, as you roll the fish up, the filling kind of gets smushed along and ends up filling in that empty spot.  If it was totally covered, you'd have filling squirting out the end.  (Lovely image, huh?)  But also, truth be told, I think my brain slipped into either maki roll or cinnamon bun mode, with the notion that I'd need a blank section to use as tape, kind of, to bind the roll together.  You know, like you would do making the maki rolls or cinnamon buns.  Yeah, sometimes the compartments in my brain smash together and the contents get mixed.

Anyway, I did that with all the fish and then I carefully set them all on top of the softened onion and pak choi stalks in my pan.

Like so:

I put the larger two in the center, where they'd be directly over the burner, and placed the smaller ones around the edges.  And I chose to set the fish on top of the onions and stalks so there would be no fish stuck to the pan anywhere.  I also, as you can see, had a bit of the filling left over, so I topped the fish with it.

Next, I placed the lid on the pan, set the burner on high, and set my timer for five minutes.  When the timer went off, I shut off the heat and set the timer for another ten minutes.  I DID NOT TOUCH the lid or the pan.  I just went about my business and let the heat and moisture work their magic.

When the timer went off, I took a peek at my fish (perfectly done - yay!) and made some couscous (which takes about 6 minutes).  Once the couscous was done, I dished it up.

Very simple, and very tasty.  Best of all, I only used one burner on the stove, and it was only on for 15 minutes.  (I nuked the couscous.) 

So next time you've got some fluke filets you don't know what to do with, and it's hot, and you don't want the oven on and you don't want to grill...give this a try.  Be creative with the stuffing, too - you just want to make sure it's moist.

And let me know how it turns out!