It’s a good day when you get to spend most of it in your PJ pants – until you have to upgrade to yoga pants to go pick up the kid from school, anyway – and in the middle of it someone drops by with a few pastries and a couple loaves of still-warm bread.
I didn’t have any butter. But – tragedy averted: I had about a cup of cream. Making butter really isn’t a biggie, and yet although it’s been on my radar since we took turns shaking up that little container of whipping cream in elementary school, passing it from kid to kid until it transformed into butter (that really could be an analogy for a lot of things, couldn’t it?) I rarely do it myself. If I’m out of butter, I run to the corner store, or send Mike, or put it on the shopping list. I don’t think to make it, but it couldn’t be easier. Or better. (Then again, I rarely have heavy cream in the fridge either. Maybe I’ll start to? Heavy cream meaning 35% whipping cream, the heaviest commonly available.)
It would be worth getting into the habit of making butter for my own use (apart from baking, I mean – I’ll share it with the boys) – after all, if I’m going to eat butter, it may as well be the good stuff. Think homemade chocolate chip cookies vs the bagged kind.
Have you seen the cost of high-end butter? To buy a pint of cream and make your own is a steal.
As I was saying, it’s no biggie – I was working in the kitchen anyway, and so poured the cream into the bowl of the stand mixer, covered the top with plastic wrap (it gets splattery) and turned it on. That’s about it. It’ll churn away, first turning into whipped cream, then something stiffer than whipped cream, and then suddenly you’ll hear it get wet and splashy as it separates into butter and thin buttermilk. (This is why I like using plastic wrap rather than a tea towel – not only can you seal the edges, you can see through it to see how the cream is changing, and hear when the butter separates from the buttermilk and splashes on the plastic film.) That’s it.
You’ll wind up with pure butter that looks like a wad of moulding clay – simply pull it out and put it in a crock, or dish, or jar. It will be a perfect spreading texture. Yes, that’s glittery purple nail polish.
You could add salt to it of course, before or after. Or try spreading your bread with sweet butter and sprinkling it with a pinch of coarse salt. Heaven. Especially when it’s -11 outside and you’re still in your PJ pants.
January 11 2012 | preserves | 29 Comments »
We interrupt our regular dinner announcement to bring you these deliciously salty, spicy, munchable roasted chickpeas, which ruined our appetites for dinner anyway. I tweeted out a picture of these this afternoon, as I prepared to have four kids descend on my kitchen to taste test bean recipes for an upcoming Parents Canada spread. The immediate twitter flurry of recipe requests that ensued suggested that perhaps some of you may be interested in knowing how to roast a chickpea.
It should be a standard formula in any kitchen, I think. Especially after watching how kids devour them. If you’re looking for something salty and snackable, these beat chips all the way to the curb. Protein, fibre, they’ve got it all-and good taste, to boot. I’ll refrain from any reference to safe snacking.
Roasting chickpeas is like roasting anything else: the drier they are going in, the crispier they’ll be coming out. Open a large (19 oz.) can (or two), rinse and drain them well, and spread them out on a rimmed baking sheet. Drizzle with canola or olive oil, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and any other seasonings you like – cumin and paprika (sweet or smoked) are good, or curry powder, or any spice mix you fancy. Roll them around to coat them more or less, and rast them at 400°F for 20-30 minutes, giving them a poke around once or twice, until golden and sizzling and crispy. They do tend to get paper towely after a couple hours, so serve them right away. Divine.
January 08 2012 | appetizers and beans and vegetarian | 11 Comments »
This is what you do when once again you’re completely out of hours, and your intention to FOR SURE THIS TIME bake fancy fruit-studded loaves to bring all your friends and neighbours in the days before Christmas has once again fallen flat on its face. Honestly, don’t you know yourself yet?
It occurred to me that the wonderfully easy, rustic and crusty no-knead bread could take on additions like cinnamon and raisins, or herbs and cheese, or figs and walnuts. So I made a loaf, just to see. It fused fast to the pot – something that has never happened before – so much so that I had to chisel and soak its bottom from the bottom of the pan.
So for round two I used a piece of parchment, which worked brilliantly – not only did it contain the floury mess on the countertop, it looked quite charming in the pot itself, especially after the bread had baked and the parchment turned crackly and pale golden. Don’t skip it, unless you love doing dishes.
It turns out this is perfect for after Christmas too – for those midwinter mornings when preheating a large, heavy pot in a 450F oven to bake a crackly round loaf seems like a Very Good Idea.
Fig & Walnut No-Knead Bread
3 cups all-purpose or bread flour, plus more for dusting
1/4 tsp. active dry yeast
1 tsp. salt
1/2 cup chopped dried figs or raisins
1/4-1/2 cup chopped walnuts, toasted if you like
1 tsp. cinnamon (or a good hefty shake)
In a large bowl stir together the flour, yeast and salt. Add 1 ½ cups plus 2 tablespoons water, and stir until blended; dough will be shaggy and sticky. Add the figs, walnuts and cinnamon and stir to sort of combine – the cinnamon will be streaky. That’s OK. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap or a plate and let it rest on the countertop for 18-24 hours at room temperature.
The dough is ready when its surface is wet looking and bubbly. Put a piece of parchment on the countertop and scrape the dough out onto it; dust the surface generously with flour and fold the dough over itself a couple times; sprinkle again with flour and cover with a tea towel. (Make sure it’s not terry cloth, which will stick.) Let it sit for another hour or two, or even three or four.
When you’re ready to bake, preheat the oven to 450°. Put a 6-8 quart heavy covered pot (cast iron, enamel, Pyrex or ceramic) in oven as it heats. Pull the pot out of the oven, lift up the dough on the sheet of parchment and drop it into the pot. Cover with the lid and bake for 30 minutes, then uncover and bake for another 10-15 minutes, until crusty and golden. Remove from the pot and cool on a wire rack, or eat warm.
January 06 2012 | bread | 31 Comments »
Aside from the idea that this is a fresh and spanking-clean new year (really, what’s different between this Tuesday and last, besides a new calendar on my wall?), mostly in January I want to eat more cleanly, with more of the veggies I’ve so woefully neglected for the past month or two. Since around Halloween, really, and then there were those almost two weeks spent in Jasper, where there was salad, but mostly morning pastries and buffets and martinis and chocolate and cheese. And then it was winter and Christmastime, and wait.. I’m not coming up with a valid excuse here, am I?
And today, back at my desk and forced to answer phone calls and emails, and open that stack of mail from the bank and Revenue Canada (which they always seem to send on Fridays or right before Christmas, or on the Friday right before Christmas), I feel like I should also be eating my broccoli.
And so I took it as an opportunity to try a recipe I’ve been meaning to give a go – and served it in shallow dishes I unearthed from the basement (in an attempt to declutter) that were a wedding gift in 1994 and I’ve maybe used once. I’m going to use them now. 1994!! The New Year is supposed to be all about newness and possibility, but every year it winds up being a bit like a mini midlife crisis.
In a good way, of course. I’m happy to be here, to be ringing in 2012 with those I love, even though technically I was in the bathroom at midnight. The collective lull of the holidays allows enough of a breather to take a look at life and which steps to take (or not) next. What I want to spend my time and money and energies on. To talk myself out of starting too many new things, or to be too fearful of same. And to be thankful that we get the luxury of choice.
Would it be too much to ask for a longer lull, so I can start the new year being able to see my desktop? And although I still wonder why eating broccoli should be so much more virtuous than eating shortbread, at least it makes life seem more tacklable when you feel less Jabba-the-Hutt-ish.
If you time it right, the rice will cook in exactly the same amount of time as the broccoli and shrimp take to roast. If you go ahead and toss the lemon wedges onto the pan too they’ll get all roasted and squishy, and you’ll be able to squeeze far more of the juice and soft pulp over your shrimp and broccoli, if you like that sort of thing. Be warned roasted lemon wedges have more give than a raw one; Mike doused the front of his AC/DC T-shirt in lemon guts.
Spicy Roasted Shrimp & Broccoli
Adapted from The New York Times and The Wednesday Chef by way of Everybody Likes Sandwiches – this recipe gets around.
2 large heads of broccoli
3-4 Tbsp. canola or olive oil
1/2 tsp. ground cumin
1/2 tsp. ground coriander
1/2 tsp. chili flakes
salt & freshly ground black pepper
10-20 large raw shrimp, shelled and deveined
1 lemon, zested and then cut into wedges
Preheat oven to 425F.
Toss the broccoli with about 2 tablespoons of oil, the cumin, coriander, 1/4 teaspoon of the chili flakes, and half the salt and pepper. In a small bowl, toss the shrimp with the remaining chili flakes, salt and pepper, olive oil and the lemon zest. Cut the lemon lengthwise into quarters.
Spread the broccoli out on a parchment-lined rimmed baking sheet, add the lemon wedges if you like, and roast for 10 minutes. Add the shrimp and cook for 8-10 minutes more – just until the shrimp are opaque. Serve over rice, with a squeeze of lemon. Serves 2.
January 03 2012 | one dish and seafood and vegetarian | 28 Comments »
I won’t lie – it was a terrible New Year’s Eve (with the exception of the party we went to!), and an even worse New Year’s Day, starting before I even got out of bed. Today ended with taco chips for dinner and a house more disastrous than it was before Christmas, with the tree still up, no new stove, and a kitchen that looks like someone picked it up and shook it. I suppose that means things can only improve this year, right? I’m happy to read of all the clean slates and beautiful beginnings, but mine was not. It’s the worst kind of writers’ block, where you can’t think of anything good to say, and so probably shouldn’t say anything at all, but you really want to.
This apple pancake was good. There, that’s something.
A puffed pancake is easier to make than you might think, easier than traditional one-at-a-time pancakes, even. You whisk the batter together, pour it into a hot (from sautéing those apples) pan, slide it into the oven and let it puff up all crusty and crackly, like a ginormous Yorkshire pud.
If you want it to rise even higher, take the sautéed apples out of the pan, set them aside, pour the batter into the pan and bake it on its own. Then dump the apples on top when you serve it, in wedges. If you don’t want to do apples, heat up the pan on the stovetop with a little oil (and butter too, if you like) and bake the batter as-is, then fill the pancake with fresh berries to serve it.
I’m also struggling with the fact that it’s January 1st, which means a) this blog has been here 4 years! and b) I want to launch something new, which I know is either a very good or very bad idea, but would be so much fun, wouldn’t it? Especially if I start tonight and do 365 days of something. There’s so much potential on this here world wide inter-web.
And so regarding this new year, I declare a do-over. I’m back to deadlines this week but W is still home, so I’m hoping to spend some me and him time clearing the clutter, three-dimensional and otherwise, and hopefully get a good and proper start on the year – next Monday morning. Tomorrow just can’t count. I’m not fresh and focused and ready! Where did the week go?
Puffed Apple Pancake
2 apples or pears, ripe but firm, cored and sliced
1-2 Tbsp. canola oil
1-2 Tbsp. butter
1-2 Tbsp. sugar or honey
Pinch cinnamon
3 large eggs
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
3/4 cup milk
Preheat the oven to 450°F.
In a large skillet (if you have an ovenproof one, use it), sauté the apples in the oil and butter over medium heat for a minute or two. Sprinkle them with the sugar and cinnamon and cook until they start to turn golden. Remove them from the heat.
Whisk together the eggs, flour, and milk. Don’t worry about getting all the lumps out. Pour the batter over the apples in the skillet and put it in the oven. (If you don’t have an ovenproof skillet, pour the sautéed apples into a pie plate and pour the batter over them.)
Bake for 20-25 minutes, until the pancake is puffed and golden. Cut it into wedges and serve warm, sprinkled with icing sugar if you like, with the fruit and a drizzle of maple syrup. Serves 4.
January 01 2012 | breakfast | 21 Comments »
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