E for Effort

I am part mad-scientist in my kitchen. I’d rather wear a lab coat than an apron. And after kneading many pounds of dough for sourdough bread, I’m sure the scent that clings to me is akin to that of my college lab professors – ripe and heady.

Baking can be a finicky craft, and one does have to possess a bit of a scientific mind to experiment with flour, water, and leavenings. This is precisely why I love to muck with well-written, tried and true bread and cookie recipes. It’s not broken, but I will wrap tape around it.

My basic sourdough bread recipe: 3 – 3 ½ cups flour, 1 ¼ - 1 ½ cups of warm water, 1 teaspoon of salt, starter, rise, punch down, shape, rise, bake at 450 degrees for 40 minutes, bread. While this is a tried and true technique, I seek a method that will allow a slow rise while I’m either in bed or at work. I have seen many a recipe for "no knead" bread using both commercial yeast and wild yeast. No knead bread, as the title shamelessly gives away, replaces the work of kneading bread dough with a simple, vigorous stir. No knead bread recipes still involve a bit of hovering over the shaped bread to ensure it doesn’t over proof. Besides, I enjoy kneading bread dough. It's stress relieving, and two 30 minute kneads a week count as weight training in my book. Never have I had such bulging biceps. I dare you to ask me for directions to the beach.

As long as I'm willing to ruin a few loaves through experimenting with time, a well-risen, tasty loaf of bread without having to coddle it is not diffictult to achieve. My first test at a long rise started at 6:30 on a Tuesday morning. I kneaded a dough consisting of 2 cups of 20% bran flour, 1 ¼ cups whole wheat flour, 1 ½ cups warm water, 2 tablespoons of starter, and 1 teaspoon salt. After kneading, I allowed the dough to rest for 30 minutes before shaping it into a tight ball and placing it in a floured banneton. At approximately 8:00 in the morning, my bread started the long proofing process snug in its little basket. At 6:45 in the evening, I started preheating the oven to 450 degrees. As the oven heated, on the bottom rack I let a pan of hot water steam, and on the top rack, I preheated my cast iron skillet. By 7:30 in the evening the dough had almost tripled in size, and was edging towards over-proofing. In my fear of deflating the loaf, I dumped it out of the banneton and into the heated cast iron skillet a half hour earlier than I wanted. Baking wuss. However (!) the dough almost deflated as I slashed it with a clumsy yet abstract letter E.

Fresh from the oven

There isn't much oven spring, but it's still a beauty of a loaf, even with a messy, er, abstract E pattern. I did not slice the loaf until the next morning, as I wanted it to cool completely, and each slice cut beautifully. Forty minutes in the oven gave the crust a good chew, and, considering I used a good amount of whole wheat flour, the crumb has a nice, open webbing. The slices are hearty, but not dense. Overall, a wonderful bread that will not only make scrumptious grilled cheese sandwiches, but thick slices evenly toasted and slathered with butter and jam will be just blissful for breakfast.

I can hear the tea kettle's whistle now.

Will this be my new tried and true method? Perhaps. I do like the ease of only one rise while I'm at work or in bed. Next time I think I'll add some walnuts and rosemary....

Labor of Intense Like

Beautiful food relies upon simplistic and raw ingredients to fit together and create layers of flavor, one flavor no more important than any other. As the tree-costumed actor is important to the whole of the play, the dash of pepper brings a new depth to the tuna salad. However, at times pairing the simplest ingredients can prove complex, causing the cook to wonder if all the fuss is worth the end result, and perhaps she should just settle for a tuna melt.

I've had the recipe for Barley and Asparagus Risotto ("Mission: Meatless”, Gourmet Magazine April 2007) in my to-make list for months. Lately I’ve been braver in my attempts to center my meals on strictly vegetarian dishes, and Sunday evening seemed the perfect time to prepare this hearty and rustic risotto – a dish that eventually turned into a three hour project. I dare say that if I were more specific in asking Shane to look for shelled hazelnuts instead of ones that had to be shelled, I would have shaved 30 to 45 minutes from the preparation time. Fortunately, Shane is sport and a mighty fine sous-chef. Using only a pair of pliers and brute determination, Shane sweetly shelled an entire bag of hazelnuts for me. But the remainder of the risotto project was entirely in my hands. To give credit to Kemp Minifie, executive food editor of Gourmet and author of the article “Mission: Meatless”, several steps in the recipe can be done in advance, although the overall preparation was fiddly and time-consuming.

I like this risotto. I like the idea of using the asparagus cooking water instead of broth. I like the crunch of the hazelnuts. I even like taking every step to ensure each ingredient's flavor is showcased. I would like to make this risotto on a weeknight, after advanced preparation of the asparagus tips and puree (saving the cooking water). Shane did suggest that a lightly seared tuna steak would go well with the risotto, forgoing the vegetarian idea. In my opinion, the risotto can stand by itself as a main dish, paired with a light salad or some roasted vegetables. I served roasted broccoli on the side, but I feared our plates held too much green. Next time I may pair the risotto with a simple radish salad. For a special occastion, I may try topping the risotto with slivers of prosciutto or serving it alongside a grilled porkchop or seared tuna steak. Versatility.

A Carrot in Every Pot

As it’s steadily getting colder and wet snow is descending upon the city, I’m anticipating a frigid apartment when I get home. The thought of creating a soothing, golden soup, or as I like to call it, potage, entices me more than tonight’s originally planned dinner of roasted carrots, yellow cauliflower and acorn squash. In the soup pot, carrots, onions, and fresh rosemary will slowly sauté in a dot of butter and a pinch of cinnamon, while acorn squash and cauliflower, tossed with olive oil, salt and pepper, slowly roast, so as to lend nutty, caramelized depth to the soup. When the onions and carrots are perfectly sweet and tender, in goes 3 or so cups of homemade chicken broth in which the carrots will simmer until they are soft enough to puree. After the cauliflower and acorn squash are soft enough, they will be added to the carrots and broth, and all will be whirled in a blender (in several batches so as to not blow the top of the blender by the hot liquid), garnished with ground pepper, a touch of smoked cheese, and served with a piece or two of crusty, sourdough bread, and it will wrap Shane in a blanket of bliss.

Sunny, hearty and rich without the use of cream (although I did sprinkle a bit of smoked cheese over the top), The potage was the perfect heater for our chilly evening. The more I savored the soup, the more I enjoyed the flavor, down to the last scrapings in the pot. At the point my stomach could not hold anymore, the soup tasted its best. Unfortunately the cheese did not compliment with a rich, smoky flavor as I had anticipated, although the smoothness of the cheese did pair well with the velvety soup. Cheese is not a necessity to enjoy this soup, but if I must, next time I will try a Stilton or perhaps a nutty Comté.

After exchanging a few mmms and sighs, Shane and I agee this potage is a keeper, especially during the cold months inside our apartment.

It's a Man-Eat Salad World

Yes, that's my Shane, clad in his stocking cap and happily eating my Winter Harvest Salad. Why the stocking cap? Does it give the illusion of a day of skiing in the Alps only to take a break to feast on a medley of leafy greens, crispy croutons, and blue cheese? Not so. It was below the 20 degree mark outside and a mere mere 59 degrees inside our apartment due to our landlord’s not turning on the heat. Perhaps I should decorate the dining room in a fall landscape and invite people in to enjoy the crisp weather, beautiful scenery, and hot apple cider. Or perhaps I should just pair this salad with a piping hot bowl of butternut squash soup and save on extra traffic in my dining room.

The "symphony of flavors" Winter Harvest Salad was an excuse to use the leftover cornbread muffins from Sunday. After a few (wary) bites of the salad, Shane gleefully described the taste and texture of the salad as a symphony. Should I rename it Symphony Salad? Regardless, it doesn't take much effort to pull this vegetarian salad together. Adding a bit of crumbled bacon and/or smoked chicken will satisfy those who must have meat, although it's hearty enough without. The following served two of us as a main dish. When served as a side, there should be enough for 4 people.


Winter Harvest Salad

Maple Vinaigrette:

The Maple Vinaigrette will be more than you need for this amount of greens. Store remainder in the refrigerator for up to a week.

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil or walnut oil
1/4 cup real maple syrup
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
2 teaspoons dijon mustard
Salt and freshly ground pepper

Warm the oil and syrup. Put vinegar and mustard into a medium bown, and whisk in warmed oil and syrup until mixture is emulsified. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Dressing can be made ahead and stored in the refrigerator for up to a week. Bring to room temperature before serving (or gently heat), and whisk to emulsify.

Croutons and Toasted Walnuts:
1/4 cup walnuts
2 -3 leftover cornbread muffins or wedges

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Dice cornbread into 1 inch squares. Arrange on a cookie sheet. Spread walnuts on a separate sheet. Bake walnuts until toasted, 10-20 minutes, but watch closely so they don't burn. Bake cornbread squares 20-30 minutes, until crispy. Walnuts can be toasted ahead of time and stored in the fridge for several weeks. Croutons can be make ahead and stored in an airtight container for 3 or 4 days.

Roasted Sweet Potatoes:
2 sweet potatoes, cut into chunks, peeling optional
2 shallots, quartered
1 sprig fresh rosemary, chopped
Pinch of hot pepper flakes (optional)
Olive oil

Heat oven to 400 degrees. Toss sweet potatoes and shallots with the rosemary, pepper flakes and olive oil. Arrange on a cookie sheet and roast for 15 minutes, or until the potatoes are tender.

Salad:
4 oz leafy greens (I used a spring greens mix)
Roasted sweet potatoes
Roasted shallots
3 oz blue cheese such as Stilton, Gorgonzola, or Maytag Blue
Toasted walnuts
3 - 4 tablespoons of Maple Vinaigrette
Cornbread croutons.

Toss greens, sweet potatoes, shallots, blue cheese and walnuts with vinaigrette. Top with cornbread croutons. If you must, crumble a little smoked bacon to top the salad alongside the croutons.

The Mason-Dixon Line

As I have recently discovered, my wintertimes in Oklahoma City were a breeze (literally) compared to the arctic and blustery weather here in Chicago. Nevertheless, to ease us through those colder months of January through late March, my mom would often fix a large pot of pinto beans flavored with nothing but onions and ham hock.

The best part of the meal was the pan of cornbread she'd fix in her 8 inch, well-seasoned cast iron skillet. Mom would first (and most importantly) heat the skillet in the oven as she mixed the corn bread: cornmeal, baking soda, baking powder, salt, milk, eggs. After heating the skillet, mom would scoop butter flavored crisco into the hot skillet, pour the cornmeal batter into the hot skillet, and 25 minutes or so later, a crispy cake of cornmeal emerged from the oven. To loosen the bread, mom always gave the skillet a good shake before turning loose the cornbread, bottom side now up, onto a plate. The brown and crispy bread was ready to be cut into wedges, buttered with Country Crock, and served with the thick, meaty pinto beans. To have sweetened this delightfully savory cornbread with just a pinch of sugar - sacrilege!

Here I am, years later and newly married to a true country boy (I declare enviously, as he grew up in a more rural area). When the weather turned cold enough for cornbread (this time with chili), I did my best to replicate my mother's method (butter replacing both the Crisco and the Country Crock). To my chagrin, my country boy, my true Okie requested that I add jalapenos, sugar, and a bit of flour to my cornbread. This suggestion makes the cornbread more akin to his grandmother's cornbread. Knowing I cannot in anyway compete with Shane's grandmother (even my heart attack worthy cinnamon rolls cannot compare to her pecan rolls), I have fine-tuned my corn bread recipe for my palate and his. The result is a beautiful, red-chile speckled corn muffin, heavy on the (fine) yellow cornmeal and light on the all purpose flour and sugar.

I served these corn muffins with a chicken chili featured in the April 2007 Gourmet. The chili was good, but the consistency needs some adjusting. I plan on making the chili again soon, specifically to fiddle with the chunky to smooth ratio but also because Shane was not able to fully taste the chili because of his lingering cold.

Adapted from Southernfood.about.com

Soaking the chile peppers in warm milk infuses the milk with the flavor of the peppers. Both the milk and the peppers in mixed into the muffin batter creating red-speckled, mildly spiced muffins. For more heat, do not remove all the seeds from the peppers.

INGREDIENTS:
2 dried New Mexico Chile Peppers, stemmed and seeded
2 cups sour milk, warmed
1 cup all-purpose flour, sifted
1 1/2 cups yellow corn meal
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
2 teaspoons salt
1 - 2 tablespoon sugar (optional)
1/4 cup unsalted butter, chilled
2 eggs, beaten

PREPARATION:
Soak peppers in warmed milk for 15 minutes. Remove peppers and set milk aside. Coarsely chop peppers and set aside.

Sift dry ingredients together; cut in butter until mixture is coarse like meal. Combine eggs and milk; stir into cornmeal mixture. Carefully fold in chopped peppers being careful to not overmix. Spoon into greased muffin pans and bake at 425° for 25 to 30 minutes.

Makes 18 muffins