Friday, February 19, 2010

SWEET POTATO AND SPINACH SALAD WITH WARM BACON VINAIGRETTE


Yes, another salad with bacon and another mustard vinaigrette. I just can’t help myself! This one has a convoluted story: Along with kale and fennel, I’ve been craving sweet potatoes lately. In my analog recipe stash, I had a photocopied recipe from some forgotten cookbook for a warm side dish of sweet potatoes with spinach and bacon, which suddenly started sounding irresistible to me. So I went online to see if anyone else had made the recipe and what they thought of it. It turns out that you get a lot of results if you Google “sweet potatoes spinach bacon”—but most of them are salads. Apparently, sweet potato, spinach and bacon salad is, like, an established thing? I clicked on a few recipes and soon realized that they sounded better than the original recipe I’d been searching for. First I found this Mark Bittman recipe at Serious Eats, but I wasn’t sure the ginger, cumin, and orange flavors were what I wanted. Then I found this Rachel Ray recipe (yep, I fell into the Rachel Ray vortex again). It sounded delicious, except for the fact that the sweet potatoes were boiled, which, bleah. Why boil a sweet potato when you can roast it? So I stole the roasting method from the Bittman recipe, halved the Rachel Ray recipe, and went to work. We were both extremely pleased with the result. This is a big, bold salad bursting with a wide variety of flavors, textures, and fresh, colorful vegetables. I could have just eaten the salt-and-peppery roasted sweet potato chunks on their own, but on a bed of crisp spinach (mine didn't really wilt; I think my dressing had cooled a bit, but I didn't mind), dressed in a tart-sweet dressing and spangled with bacon, they were amazing. Even non-sweet-potato-lovers (A is one) will love this.

2 medium-large sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into bite-sized pieces
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, divided
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
2 slices bacon, diced
1 small red onion, finely chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
2–3 cups baby spinach

1. Heat the oven to 400 degrees. Put the sweet potatoes on a baking sheet, drizzle with 1 tablespoon of the oil, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and toss to coat. Roast, turning occasionally, until crisp and brown outside and just tender inside, 20–30 minutes. Remove from oven and keep them on the pan until ready to use.

2. While the potatoes are cooking, place a large skillet over medium-high heat, add the bacon, and cook until crisp.

3. Remove the bacon from the pan and add the onion, garlic, some salt, and tons of black pepper to the bacon drippings. Cook until the onions are tender, about 5 minutes.

4. Remove pan from the heat and add the mustard, vinegar, and remaining 1 tablespoon oil, whisking vigorously to incorporate the dressing.

5. Place the spinach in a large bowl, add the sweet potatoes, pour the dressing on top, and toss well to coat the potatoes and lightly wilt the spinach. Crumble the bacon over everything. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Serves: 2 as a main dish or 4 as a side dish
Time: 45 minutes
Leftover potential: We didn't try, but probably not great.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

BAKED OATMEAL


Brilliance, thy name is baked oatmeal.

I love oatmeal—I’m a sucker for it in baked goods and have been known to snack upon handfuls of raw oats. But I don’t find myself eating regular old steaming bowls of cooked oatmeal very often, because (a) I don’t usually have that much time in the morning, and (b) strangely, I’m not very good at making it. If I use the microwave, it boils over; if I use the stovetop, scalded milk sticks to the pot; and either way, it tastes sort of bland and boring. And the less said about the sickly-sweet instant stuff, the better. So I had pretty much resigned myself to eating cold cereal for breakfast—which is no problem, really; it’s one of my favorite foods and I make a killer homemade granola, but sometimes in the winter something hot and comforting sounds so good. Then I got a sudden hankering to make this recipe, which I had torn out of a Penzeys catalog at my parents’ house years ago and jammed into a folder (a Dawson’s Creek folder, of all things, which I once received as a gag gift, possibly at a white elephant party) where all the orphaned recipes I collected on a whim languished sadly. When menu planning, I always use the Internet, referring to my blog or all the online recipes I’ve bookmarked using Delicious, so I always forget about the torn-out magazine pages and photocopied pages from library cookbooks until it’s too late. But a spate of cold weather had me craving hot oatmeal, and I’m so glad I exhumed this recipe because it is the perfect solution to all my problems—er, the oatmeal-related ones, anyway.

This was easy to throw together on a Sunday morning. I was a little suspicious of how full the baking dish was—wouldn’t it boil over?—but what emerged from the oven (which I stupidly forgot to photograph) looked flat and solid and browned, like a cake. When I scooped out a spoonful, the interior was tender and fluffy, sort of like an oatmeal pudding, with toasty edges reminiscent of a soft cookie. It tasted like good, perfectly seasoned oatmeal. The best part was that after taking my initial serving, I threw the rest into an airtight container and stashed it in the refrigerator. Then every morning for the next week, I pulled it out, scooped out a bowlful, microwaved it for a minute, poured milk over it (recommended, as this has a slightly drier texture than your usual oatmeal), and voila! Oatmeal with all the fixins. Amazing! I can tell this is going to be a life-changer. I can’t wait to make another batch; it’s like the winter version of granola—and like granola, I suspect it’s infinitely customizable. Probably any dried fruit would work here; I used raisins and will use fewer next time, because I only like the occasional raisin in my oatmeal. I liked the walnuts but see no reason you couldn’t try pecans or almonds instead. I might experiment with using a bit less sugar (it wasn’t overly sweet by any means, but my tolerance for sugar in the mornings is unusually low), and will perhaps add some flaxseed meal too. You could also get experimental with the spices; I did add a little cardamom, because I adore it, but I suspect the other chai spices (nutmeg, allspice, coriander, even turmeric) would fit in well too. And of course, you can top it with whatever you like—yogurt, fresh fruit, jam, etc.

About the only annoyance with this recipe is that you end up with four spare egg yolks, which I hate to waste, but if I start making custards or mayonnaise or lemon curd or pudding all the time, it’s going to defeat the purpose of this wholesome, sensible breakfast.

POSTSCRIPT: I have since made this twice more, and I think I've arrived at a version that's just the way I like it. I made the following changes:
  • Reduced the brown sugar to ½ cup
  • Reduced the raisins to ½ cup
  • Used 2 whole eggs instead of 4 egg whites
  • Omitted the oil
  • Added 3-4 tablespoons ground flaxseed meal
I didn't detect a real difference in texture (or taste) due to the egg change. One of the times, the interior seemed slightly softer, but I may also have just underbaked it, because the next time it seemed to be the same as the egg-white version. Obviously, the egg-white version will be a little lighter in terms of cholesterol, but the whole-egg version is less wasteful and more convenient for me, so I'll be sticking with it. I figured that with the whole eggs plus the flaxseed, I didn't need the oil at all, and I didn't notice its absence. It's such a small amount that you might even be able to omit it while using the egg whites, if you oil the baking dish generously (I found that sometimes the browned exterior of the oatmeal tends to stick).

One time I also used chopped almonds instead of walnuts, because I had some that needed to be used up, and I threw in a drop of almond extract too, just for kicks. It tasted good, but I actually liked the texture of the walnuts better. If I try almonds again, I'll give sliced ones a shot.

2¼ cups quick cooking oats or 2¾ cups old-fashioned oats, uncooked
⅔ cup firmly packed brown sugar
¾ cup raisins or dried cranberries (craisins)
½ cup chopped walnuts
1 teaspoon cinnamon
½ teaspoon salt
3⅓ cups skim milk (I used 1%)
4 egg whites, lightly beaten
1 teaspoon vegetable oil
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
Milk, yogurt, and fruit for serving (optional)

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Spray an 8-inch square glass baking dish with cooking spray.

2. In a large bowl, combine oats, sugar, raisins, walnuts, cinnamon, and salt. Mix well. In a medium bowl, combine milk, egg whites, oil, and vanilla and mix well. Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients and mix until well blended. Pour into the baking dish.

3. Bake for 50–60 minutes or until center is set and firm to the touch. Cool slightly. Serve topped with milk or yogurt and fruit, if desired.

Time: 1 hour 15 minutes
Serves: 6–8
Leftover potential: High. Store leftover oatmeal tightly covered in the refrigerator and you can enjoy it all week long! Just scoop out your daily serving and reheat it in the microwave.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

SPAGHETTI WITH BLANCHED KALE AND GARLIC-ROASTED POTATOES


I’m on a major kale kick lately, so I finally got up the gumption to try this recipe from Jack Bishop’s Pasta e Verdura. It’s one of my favorite cookbooks of all time (now shamefully out of print?)—and the source of at least half my cherished pasta dishes—so you wouldn’t think I’d be so reluctant to give this recipe a shot, but (a) there have been a few duds among all the gems in it; and (b) I tried a different kale pasta in December and wasn’t particularly thrilled by it, even though it came well recommended...which made me fear that I don’t really like kale quite as much as I think I do, like maybe I’m some sort of kale dilettante who likes it roasted or mixed with a bunch of other things but can’t handle the strong stuff straight up.

Luckily, I loved this. It’s exactly what it sounds like—crispy, garlicky, herby golden nuggets of potato tossed with tender, lemony kale over spaghetti. I devoured nearly all the leftovers myself (I think A only managed to snag one serving) and wouldn’t mind making it again right now. I did, belatedly, realize that it’s pretty much just a wintry version of a recipe I already have, only with spaghetti instead of penne and kale instead of arugula, but I think I actually like this one more; it seems to gel better somehow. The only thing I’d change from the original recipe? Saving some of the pasta water to loosen up the final dish—I almost did, but then figured I’d trust the all-knowing Bishop, and then sadly my results were on the dry side (although obviously still thoroughly edible). Also, be sure to use plenty of salt, or this may seem on the bland side at first bite (but trust me, it really isn’t). Now go forth and eat kale!

1 pound small red potatoes
6 tablespoons olive oil
4 medium cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon minced fresh rosemary leaves
1 teaspoon salt, plus extra to taste
1 pound kale (about 2 large bunches)
2 tablespoons lemon juice
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
1 pound pasta
Freshly grated Parmesan cheese to taste

1. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

2. Scrub the potatoes under cold running water, but do not peel them. Cut the potatoes into ½-inch chunks. Place in a baking dish large enough to hold them in a single layer (I used a 9x12 Pyrex). In a small bowl, combine 2 tablespoons oil with the garlic, rosemary, and 1 teaspoon salt. Drizzle the oil mixture over the potatoes, toss well, and spread back out in a single layer. Bake until potatoes are crisp and golden brown, about 40 minutes.

3. Meanwhile, bring several quarts of water to a boil in a large pot. Remove the tough center stems from the kale and discard (I find that folding them in half and slicing it off works best). Wash the kale leaves well in a colander or (if they seem particularly sandy) in a large bowl of cold water. Slice the damp leaves crosswise into ½-inch-wide strips. Add the kale and salt to taste to the boiling water. Cook until kale is tender but not mushy, about 4–6 minutes. Drain the kale and toss it in a large bowl with 2 tablespoons oil, the lemon juice, and salt and pepper to taste.

4. Meanwhile, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil for the pasta. Add the pasta and cook until al dente; drain (you may want to reserve a bit of the pasta water).

5. Add the roasted potatoes (along with any garlic and rosemary that can be scraped from the baking dish) to the bowl with the kale. Mix well, then add the hot pasta, the remaining 2 tablespoons of oil, and salt and pepper to taste. Mix well (if you have reserved pasta water, add some if the pasta looks dry). Serve sprinkled with Parmesan.

Serves: 6
Time: 1 hour, 15 minutes
Leftover potential: High

Friday, February 12, 2010

POTATO AND SAUSAGE PIZZA


Potatoes and sausage seem like such an obvious pizza-topping combination that I’m surprised I haven’t tried it already. I mean, I’ve got pizzas with potatoes and pesto, potatoes and chicken, potatoes and leeks, potatoes and other root vegetables…I’m a potatoes-on-pizza fiend, apparently. In fact, while I was making this one, A kept asking me, “Are you sure we haven’t had this before? It sounds so familiar.” But believe it or not, it’s new, and it’s tasty, with garlic and shallots and Fontina and Parmesan boosting the flavor of the meat-and-potatoes combo.

The recipe is from Serious Eats’ Meat Lite column, although I’ll admit I went a bit heavier on the meat than the recipe says; I was using my lighter, homemade, precooked sausage, which not only gave me license and desire to be more generous with it but also allowed me to skip a step in the recipe prep, always a good thing. The only difficulty in preparation came in slicing the potatoes sufficiently thin without a mandoline, but that was just a slight annoyance and well worth the effort.

4 small/medium Yukon Gold potatoes
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 link (about 2.5 ounces) Italian sausage, mild or spicy
4 cloves garlic, sliced thin
3 large shallots, peeled and sliced very thin
1 pound pizza dough
4 ounces grated Fontina cheese (about 1¼ cups)
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
¼ cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

1. Preheat the oven to 450 degrees.

2. Slice the potatoes ⅛ inch thick (a mandoline is helpful here, but not required).

3. Heat 1 tablespoon of the olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Remove the sausage from its casing and crumble the meat into the hot pan. Cook the meat about 5 to 7 minutes, breaking it up into smaller bits with a wooden spoon as it browns. (If using precooked sausage such as ’Atsa Spicy Pizza Sausage, skip this step; just add 1 tablespoon oil to the skillet and cook the garlic and shallots in it..)

4. Reduce the heat to medium, add the garlic and shallots to the pan, and saute with the sausage.

5. Stretch the dough out and press it onto a baking sheet. Drizzle the remaining olive oil over the dough and then set half of the potato slices in one layer across the dough. Put the other half of the potatoes in the pan with the sausage and cover with a lid or foil. Transfer the dough to the hot oven and bake for 5 minutes.

6. Remove the pizza from the oven and sprinkle half the Fontina over the first layer of potatoes. Spread the sausage, garlic, shallots, and remaining potatoes on top. Season with salt and pepper. Add the rest of the Fontina and the Parmesan. Return the pizza to the oven and bake 10 to 15 minutes more, until the cheese is bubbly, the crust is golden, and the potatoes are tender.

Serves: 4
Time: 45 minutes
Leftover potential: Good, especially if reheated in the oven

Tuesday, February 09, 2010

LENTIL STEW WITH SAUSAGE


Every now and then (about twice per winter, on the darkest and wettest of days) I get a hankering for lentils. Luckily, I have a good recipe for an easy lentil soup. Unluckily (or less luckily, anyway), A doesn’t really like lentils. And although he’s quite the champ about trying everything I make, eating one serving without complaint even if he doesn’t care for it, comforting me if I'm disappointed in the product of my labors, and enduring my barrage of requests for reassurance (“Do you like it? It’s good, right? You’d have it again?”—being the companion of a food blogger is a burden sometimes, I imagine), I can always tell whether he really likes something based on how much he eats the leftovers. And the last time I made lentil soup, I had to slog my way solo through all four remaining bowls, which dampened my enthusiasm for it a bit.

So when I saw this bacon- and sausage-studded lentil stew at Simply Recipes, I thought (a) “That looks delicious!” and (b) “That might be a good way to get A to enjoy lentil soup!” (If you haven't noticed by now, "bacon" is pretty much the magic word where A is concerned.) Besides the addition of meat, the recipe isn’t too different from my old one, only without the tomatoes and with some additional seasonings. I went easy on the cumin, not wanting my soup to taste like tacos, but in the end it wasn’t too assertive and paired well with the flavor of the lentils. And I downright loved the hit of vinegar stirred in just before serving—I didn’t have sherry vinegar, and while the recipe suggested cider vinegar as a substitute, I went with balsamic, one my secret ingredients for pizza sauce, and was not sorry.

But alas, all this deliciousness did not win A over to the lentil-eating team. He didn’t hate the soup, but he ended up picking out all of the meat and leaving about a quarter of a bowlful of lentils behind, and once again I was left with all the leftovers (and there were a lot of them; the recipe claimed to serve 4-5, but I got 7 bowlsful out of it). The difference was that this time, I devoured them eagerly. Paired with brown bread, this was a perfect soup for our recent rainy winter days, zesty and hearty, and the extra herbs and spices and the smoky undertones from the meat made this a marked improvement over my older, simpler recipe (which is still quite worthy and delicious, I hasten to add, particularly if you want something cheap and vegetarian). So it was a qualified success.

I found the recipe to be straightforward and self-explanatory. It takes a bit of time, but most of that is hands-off simmering time. For the sausage, I used spicy chicken andouille from Trader Joe's, which is not only delicious but also precooked, enabling me to skip the sausage-browning step of the recipe. I liked the heat and peppery smokiness they added to the soup, but really, you can use just about any type of sausage you enjoy here.

⅓ pound of bacon (about 5 thick slices), diced
1 medium-large yellow or white onion, chopped (about 1¼ cups)
2–3 large carrots, diced (⅔ cup)
2–3 large ribs celery, diced (⅔ cup)
½–1 teaspoon ground cumin
2 cloves garlic, minced (about 2 teaspoons)
1 pound brown or green dry lentils, rinsed and picked over to remove any debris
3 cups water
3 cups chicken stock
½ teaspoon dried thyme
1 bay leaf
½ pound Italian sausage (mild, sweet, or spicy, your choice) or smoked sausage, in links (about 2–3 links)
1 teaspoon sherry vinegar (can sub cider vinegar or balsamic vinegar)
¼ cup chopped fresh parsley, with a little extra for garnish
Salt and pepper to taste

1. Heat a large, thick-bottomed pot (6 to 8 quarts) on medium heat. Add the bacon and cook until much of the fat has rendered and the bacon is browned and cooked through, about 10 minutes. Use a slotted spoon to remove bacon from pan to a paper-towel-lined dish and set aside. Remove (and discard or reserve for another use) all but 2 tablespoons of bacon fat from the pot.

2. Heat the remaining fat on medium high and add the carrots, onions, celery, and cumin. Cook until softened, about 5–7 minutes, stirring frequently and scraping up the browned bits at the bottom of the pan. Add the garlic and cook a minute more, until fragrant.

3. Add back in the cooked bacon, rinsed lentils, stock, water, thyme, and bay leaf. At this point, add a teaspoon of salt and some pepper. You will season more to taste later. Bring to a boil and reduce the heat to a simmer. Cook partially covered until lentils are tender, about 40 minutes.

4. While the lentils are cooking, heat a frying pan on medium heat. Add the Italian sausage links. Gently cook, browning on all sides, until just cooked through. Remove from pan and let cool enough to handle. (All this can be skipped if your sausages are precooked.) Slice sausage and add to stew for the last 10 minutes of cooking.

5. Add vinegar and parsley to stew. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste.

Serves: 6–8
Time: 1 hour 15 minutes
Leftover potential: High

Friday, February 05, 2010

SPICY SPAGHETTI WITH FENNEL


So it’s official: We like fennel! Fresh on the heels of our delicious fennel pizza comes this delectable pasta from Bon Appetit, which I first spotted at The Kitchen Illiterate while searching for something else—what, I can’t remember, because it completely slipped my mind as soon as the words “fennel,” “pasta,” “bacon,” “red pepper flakes,” and “cheese” registered. (It turns out that the original recipe relies on red jalapenos for its spiciness, but I followed The Kitchen Illiterate's lead in using red pepper flakes, because I so dearly love them in pastas. I don’t set too much store in the original recipe anyway, because it’s inexplicably called “Spicy Spaghetti With Fennel and Herbs,” even though parsley is the only herb in evidence. I also copied The Kitchen Illiterate in using bacon instead of pancetta, and was quite pleased by that decision.)

While I was cooking, A kept asking me what this was going to taste like and whether he would like it. My best guess at what it would taste like was “Italian sausage without the meat,” and that was a pretty darn fine prediction. There’s garlic, spice, savoriness from the cheese and broth, saltiness from the bacon, and a double hit of fennel flavor from both the bulb and the seed, with a zip of freshness from the lemon and parsley. We both loved it. My only caveat is that I wish I’d sliced the fennel more thinly; I followed the recipe’s instructions to cut it into “thin wedges,” but maybe I misunderstood what that meant, because it took forever (longer than 20 minutes, anyway) to get tender, and even though it tasted good, it never achieved the melting softness and sweetness of the caramelized fennel from my first fennel experience. (Great band name: The Fennel Experience.) So I’m saying to slice it thinly instead, but of course you can do what you like. I’m not the boss of you. But if I were, I’d tell you to get yourself on the fennel bandwagon already and make this recipe immediately, and then share some of it with me (well, I guess I still have some leftovers at home, but I’m currently stuck at work, with four rainy train rides separating me from that pasta).

3 ounces pancetta or bacon, chopped
3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
3 garlic cloves, chopped
½ teaspoon red pepper flakes
2 large fennel bulbs, stalks trimmed, sliced thinly
1½ cups low-salt chicken broth
4 tablespoons finely chopped fresh Italian parsley, divided
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1½ teaspoons crushed fennel seeds
1 pound spaghetti
½ cup finely grated Parmesan cheese, plus extra for garnish

1. Sauté pancetta or bacon in a large skillet over medium heat until crisp. Using a slotted spoon, transfer pancetta/bacon to paper towels.

2. Add 1 tablespoon oil to drippings in skillet. Add garlic and red pepper flakes; sauté over medium heat 1 minute. Add fennel; cook until beginning to soften, 5 minutes. Mix in broth, 2 tablespoons parsley, lemon juice, and fennel seeds. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low, cover, and cook until fennel is very tender, 20 minutes.

3. Meanwhile, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil and cook pasta until al dente. Reserve 1 cup cooking liquid, then drain.

4. Just before pasta is done, uncover skillet with fennel mixture and return to medium-high heat. Cook until almost all liquid is absorbed, about 4 minutes. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Add pasta, 2 tablespoons oil, ½ cup cheese, and pancetta/bacon to skillet. Toss well, adding cooking liquid by ¼ cupfuls if dry. Transfer to serving bowls. Sprinkle with 2 tablespoons parsley and additional cheese to taste.

Serves: 6
Time: 1 hour
Leftover potential: Very good.

Thursday, February 04, 2010

POTATO-LEEK SOUP WITH CHEDDAR, DILL, AND DIJON


My old standby recipe for potato-leek soup with plenty of dill and lemon is among my favorites, but it verges on the plain, and apparently I’m a sucker for potato-leek anything, so when I saw this recipe on Food52 (via Last Night’s Dinner), I was intrigued. Cheddar is hands down my favorite cheese, and I’ve been gradually coming around to Dijon—which used to gross me out—through its use in the dressings of a few of my recent favorite salads. I may have slightly overestimated the zip these two ingredients would give an otherwise simple soup, because even though the finished product tasted perfectly delicious, I was ever-so-slightly underwhelmed; it was still, after all, potato-leek soup, and it didn’t taste wildly different than my usual version. In particular, I wanted more cheddar flavor (this could be my own fault; I used my refrigerator staple, Tillamook Sharp, but this may have been an occasion to try something sharper and more aged). Still, this is a great recipe, and I think my initial reaction was mainly a product of my own overexcited expectations (not to mention the fact that I may have oversalted the soup a little in the heat of the moment). The leftovers have been lovely (especially last weekend when I was suffering through a cold), A was pleased, and I’d certainly make this again.

¼ cup unsalted butter
2 cups sliced leeks (white and pale green parts, only)
Coarse kosher or sea salt
1 tablespoon unbleached all-purpose flour
1 quart chicken or vegetable stock, preferably homemade
4 cups peeled, cubed red or Yukon Gold potatoes
2 tablespoons sharp Dijon mustard
1 cup firmly packed grated sharp Cheddar cheese
¼ cup chopped fresh dill, plus additional for garnish

1. Melt the butter over medium heat in a large, heavy-bottomed soup pot.

2. Add the leeks and a generous pinch of salt, and cook over medium heat until soft.

3. Sprinkle the flour over the leeks and stir until coated. Cook for a few minutes, then add the stock, potatoes, and mustard, stirring until the mustard dissolves into the soup.

4. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to low, cover, and cook until the potatoes are very tender when pierced with a fork.

5. Turn off the heat and puree the soup with an immersion blender (or in batches in a blender or food processor).

6. Turn the heat back on low and add the cheese, stirring well until it melts into the soup.

7. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Add the dill, stirring it through. Sprinkle additional dill on top of each serving.

Serves: 6
Time: 1 hour
Leftover potential: High; improves over the course of a few days and can easily be frozen

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

MOM’S SPRITZ


I said that coconut-apricot cookies are my favorite holiday treat that I make, but I am a good Scandinavian, and there’s no doubt that spritz are my favorite cookies that my mom makes. It wouldn’t be Christmas without them.

A few years ago, A’s mother handed down her family’s cookie press to me, and I eagerly set about trying it. But I made one misstep: I decided to use Carole Walter’s spritz recipe from Great Cookies instead of my mom’s. Before you go pointing your fingers at me and hissing, “Ungrateful daughter! Ungrateful daughter!”, keep in mind that since I already knew my mom would be making her spritz for Christmas, there was no point in my making the exact same recipe; plus, it would be fun to try something new, and Walter’s recipes are always impeccable, so maybe it would even be a fancy improvement. But of course, even though there was nothing wrong with the recipe, it wasn’t the spritz I craved. It was more like your standard butter cookie. So I relearned my lesson: mother knows best.

Even though my mom takes care of the spritz-making for our family, I still make spritz every Christmas for my friends in California and for A’s family—I figure that since I’ve been entrusted with the family cookie press, I should repay the kindness in cookies, because no one (at least, no one Swedish) should have to endure a spritz-less holiday. And I stick with the old recipe. The thing that seems to make it unique among the recipes I’ve compared it to—Walter’s and the one in the Betty Crocker Cooky Book—is that it uses powdered sugar instead of regular granulated. Maybe that’s what gives it such a perfect tender texture. That’s the big attraction for me, along with the almond flavor.

I think spritz tend to be underrated. They’re a regular feature of the holiday cookie plate, at least in Minnesota, most of the time the emphasis tends to be on form rather than flavor. They’re just sugar cookies that have been colored and shaped. I made the mistake of bringing some in for my office’s holiday cookie exchange one year, and I had an embarrassing amount of leftovers. A convinced me that people have just been conditioned to expect bad spritz, so few people even tried mine. Or maybe I just love spritz more than the average person. Anyway, I now bring a sexier (usually chocolate-based) cookie to the exchange and save the spritz for myself and others who appreciate them. But if you think spritz are nothing special, do try these and see if they change your mind.

These are really easy to make. The dough is really basic, and dying it with food coloring and sprinkling colored sugar on top is technically optional, though I recommend it for the full just-like-mom’s experience. Using the cookie press is really the only thing that requires a little expertise, or at least finesse, and even that’s not complex—it’s basically just a grown-up version of that device that used to force the Play-Do into different shapes, like star-shaped ropes or spaghetti strands . I’ve heard that if you buy a good-quality new one, like Wilton’s, you don’t need to swear at it quite so much, but I sort of enjoy having to do a bit of wrangling. It makes me that much prouder of the finished product. And luckily, even the deformed spritz taste good. (Although I do recommend sticking to the larger, rounder shapes, like the wreath and the tree or holly leaf or whatever that triangular thing is—it helps keep the cookies from overbrowning.)

1 cup butter, softened
1¼ cup powdered sugar
½ teaspoon almond extract
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 egg
2½ cups flour
⅛ teaspoon salt
Red and green food coloring
Granulated sugar or sanding sugar

1. Stir together the flour and the salt in a medium bowl.

2. Using an electric mixer, cream together the butter and the sugar in a large bowl. Mix in the almond and vanilla extracts and the egg. Gradually add the dry ingredients and mix until blended.

3. Divide the dough in half and place each half in a separate bowl. Add a few drops of red food coloring to one bowl and a few drops of green to the other. Mix each one (I use my hands for this) until the color is distributed throughout, adding more coloring if necessary to achieve your desired hue.

4. Wrap each dough ball in plastic wrap and chill for at least 1 hour.

5. Preheat the oven to 375 and remove dough from refrigerator.

6. Press dough through a cookie press onto ungreased baking sheets.

7. Put a spoonful or two of granulated or sanding sugar into each of two bowls. Put a few drops of red food coloring into one bowl and green food coloring into the other, and stir each bowl until the color is distributed throughout the sugar. Sprinkle a pinch of colored sugar atop each cookie.

8. Bake for 6–8 minutes until firm but not browned, being careful not to overbake.

Yield: Maybe 4 dozen?
Time: 1½ hours, plus 1 hour chilling time
Leftover potential: Good; these keep well in the freezer.

Monday, January 25, 2010

LEMON GARLIC CHICKEN


It was the photo that lured me into making this recipe from The Kitchn (go and look at it, because my picture sucks with a suckiness I can only attribute to the distractingly mouthwatering aroma emanating from the plate, demanding that I sit down and eat, or possibly also the second night of the 24 season premiere, with Jack Bauer demanding that I sit down and eat), although I’m also unable to resist the keywords “lemon” and “garlic” and I continue to be on the lookout for easy weeknight main dishes I can pair with more complicated side dishes, like my favorite salad. (Which I wanted to make last week because A’s mom gave me walnut oil for Christmas. The recipe calls for walnut oil in the dressing, but I’d always used olive oil in the past because walnut is expensive. It turns out walnut oil is really, really tasty, and I’ve been using it in most of our salad dressings for the past month. Thanks, B!)

When I started cooking, I suddenly realized that this was basically just a simplified version of a recipe that’s already in my repertoire, but with garlic instead of potatoes and asparagus. Thus, I assumed it wouldn’t be a keeper. I mean, I figured it would make a fine dinner, but nothing special. So I was surprised when this easy, breezy little toss-it-into-a-pan-and-bake concoction turned out to be exceedingly delicious, worthy of celebration in its own right and not just as a quick-and-dirty desperation dinner. It yields moist, flavorful chicken with little effort (and, unusually, no added fat), and we enjoyed it so much that A mentioned it several times in the following days (“You know, that chicken we had the other night was really good…”).

So it turns out that this is, after all, a keeper. It was great with The Salad, but I found myself wishing for a side dish of potatoes (maybe these), the better to soak up extra super-lemony, super-garlicky juices.


8 pieces bone-in, skin-on chicken (1 whole cut-up chicken, or 4 halved breasts, or 4 thighs and 4 drumsticks)
3 lemons
15 cloves garlic, peeled
Salt and pepper to taste
2 tablespoons fresh thyme leaves

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

2. Wash the lemons, slice them in half, and juice them. Place the lemon halves and juice in a 9-by-12-inch baking dish with the garlic cloves. Arrange the chicken pieces in the dish, skin side down, and sprinkle with salt and pepper and half of the thyme. Turn the pieces over so that they are skin side up, and sprinkle with salt and pepper and the remaining thyme.

3. Put the dish in the oven and bake the chicken for 30 to 40 minutes, basting every 10 minutes. When the skin gets crispy and the meat is cooked through, it’s done.

Serves: 4
Time: 1 hour
Leftover potential: Good

Friday, January 22, 2010

COCONUT-APRICOT COOKIES


Of all the treats I routinely make for Christmas, these may be my favorite—and they don’t even have chocolate in them. Almost every recipe I’ve tried from Carole Walter’s Great Cookies has been spectacular, but this is the most delicious and unique of the lot, and has earned an ardent following among those who’ve tasted the result.

It’s hard for me to detail what makes these cookies so fantastic without wanting to run to the kitchen and bake a batch for inspiration, but I’ll try to break it down for you from memory:

  1. They’re a coconut lover’s dream—not only is coconut mixed into the dough and then rolled onto the outside of the cookies, but coconut extract also adds a megahit of flavor. They’re like coconut macaroons that have ascended to a higher plane.
  2. Excellent use of apricots. I don’t especially like dried fruit in cookies, but the apricots taste great with the coconut and look so prettily stained-glass-like when the roll of dough is sliced.
  3. The texture: moist, tender, buttery, and a little chewy inside, surrounded by a crisp shell of browned coconut.
  4. The unusual egg yolk/milk wash that’s painted on the cookies just before baking gives them a sunny yellow color that makes me think of Easter.

Come to think of it, there’s nothing particularly Christmasy about these cookies; Christmas just happens to be the time when I’m in the mood to put a little more effort into my baking. And these do require more effort than your traditional drop cookie; you’ve got to divide the dough, roll it into logs, paint them with egg white, roll them in coconut, chill them, slice them, and then paint them with the egg yolk. But this technique is what makes them so special, and besides, having to chill the dough means you can divide the work over multiple days if you want to—I mixed it up and formed the logs one weekend, stuck them in the freezer, and then sliced and baked the next weekend.

1 10-ounce package sweetened, flaked coconut
2¼ cups all-purpose flour, spooned in and leveled
½ teaspoon baking soda
¼ teaspoon salt
½ cup (6 ounces) dried apricots, chopped into ⅛-inch pieces
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, slightly firm
¾ cup sugar
1 large egg
1½ teaspoons vanilla extract
½ teaspoon coconut extract
1 large egg white
2 teaspoons water
1 large egg yolk
1 teaspoon half-and-half or milk

1. Place the coconut in the work bowl of a food processor fitted with the steel blade. Pulse five or six times, then process until finely chopped. Set aside.

2. Strain together the flour, baking soda, and salt in a small bowl. Remove 2 tablespoons of the dry ingredients and toss with the apricots in a second small bowl. Set aside.

3. In the large bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, mix the butter on medium-low speed. Pour in the sugar in a steady stream, and mix for 1 to 2 minutes. Add the egg and mix for 1 minute longer, scraping down the bowl as needed. Mix in the extracts.

4. Reduce the mixer speed to low and blend in 1¾ cups of coconut. Add the dry ingredients in 2 additions, mixing only to combine after each addition. Using a large rubber spatula, mix in the apricots.

5. Shape the dough into three logs, each measuring about 8 inches long and 1½ inches in diameter. Place the remaining coconut on a 15-inch sheet of wax paper. Whisk together the egg white and the water in a small bowl. Brush one log of dough with the egg wash, then place the log on the coconut, positioning it so that the length of the log is parallel to the short sides of the wax paper. Grasp each side of the wax paper, lift the paper off the counter, and, moving your hands up and down, roll the log to coat it with the coconut. Wrap the log in plastic, twisting the ends of the wrap tightly to secure. Repeat with the remaining two logs, and then refrigerate all three for at least 1 hour or until firm. (This dough will keep in the refrigerator for up to 3 days or may be frozen for 1 month.)

6. When ready to bake, preheat the oven to 325 degrees.

7. Using a sharp knife with a thin blade, slice each log of dough into ⅜-inch-thick slices, turning the log every two or three cuts to maintain the shape, and place on ungreased baking sheets about 2 inches apart. If the dough tears when slicing, press it back together.

8. Using a fork, mix the egg yolk and the half-and-half or milk in a shallow bowl, then lightly brush the tops of the cookies with the glaze.

9. Bake for 12 to 15 minutes or until lightly browned around the edges (to ensure even browning, rotate the baking sheets from top to bottom and back to front near the end of the baking time). Do not overbake. Remove from the oven and let stand for 1 minute before loosening with a thin metal spatula. Transfer to cooling racks.

Yields: 6 dozen 2-inch cookies
Time: 1¼ hours, plus 1 hour chilling
Leftover potential: High; can be frozen

Thursday, January 21, 2010

PIZZA WITH KALE PESTO, CARAMELIZED FENNEL, AND SAUSAGE


Even though I consider myself a major vegetable fan, I hadn’t really tried fennel before (the bulb, I mean; my father loves fennel seed and instilled an appreciation for it in me, even though I don’t really care for other licorice-flavored items). I’m pleased to report that it is delicious, at least when caramelized and heaped onto pizza. Also delicious: kale pesto! If you’re unsure about trying kale, kale pesto is a good gateway drug. Although it tastes quite different from basil pesto, it’s not especially kale-like, just garlicky and green (if you gave it to me in a blind taste test, I might have guessed that it was spinach pesto, although in my opinion it also had a certain ineffable something that made it tastier than spinach). It’s a genius way to get your winter veggies, or to use up any extra kale that you might have lying around, and I imagine it tastes great in any context where you might use pesto (on pasta, bread, etc.).

I also love sausage and needed to make a new batch of pizza sausage anyway, so this recipe from Eggs on Sunday was an all-around win for me, heaped with bold, hearty, wintry flavors that complimented each other tremendously well. It was a bit more labor-intensive than my other pizza recipes, but having premade my own sausage cut down on the work, and there’s no reason you couldn’t make the pesto or caramelize the fennel ahead of time, too. But even if it took hours I’d still be panting to make it again—and you can bet I’ll be bookmarking more fennel recipes posthaste.

(You may notice that I rearranged the order of the items in the title, and that's because when I told someone I was making “pizza with sausage, caramelized fennel, and kale pesto,” they thought that meant that all three items were ground up together in the pesto, which...is less appetizing-sounding.)

2 cups (packed) trimmed kale
¼ cup grated Parmesan cheese
1 clove garlic
Salt to taste
¼ cup + 1 tablespoon olive oil
1 large fennel bulb (or 2 smaller ones), thinly sliced
1 pinch sugar
½ pound hot Italian sausage
1 pound pizza dough
1–2 cups shredded mozzarella cheese

1. Heat 1 tablespoon olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add fennel, a pinch of sugar, and a pinch of salt. Reduce heat to medium-low, and cook until soft and caramelized.

2. Meanwhile, remove casings from sausage and brown in a skillet over medium heat, crumbling with the back of a spoon. (Or you can use 8 ounces of ’Atsa Spicy Pizza Sausage and skip this step.)

3. Bring a pot of salted water to a boil and blanch the kale for 2 minutes. Drain and squeeze out excess water. Add kale, Parmesan, garlic, and salt to the bowl of a blender or food processor and puree until fairly smooth. Add the olive oil and process until a smooth, loose paste forms.

4. Preheat the oven to 500 degrees. Roll out the pizza dough and place on a cornmeal-dusted baking sheet. Spread the kale pesto over the dough, then top with shredded mozzarella, caramelized fennel, and sausage.

5. Bake until the crust is golden and cheese is bubbly, about 8 minutes.

Serves: 4
Time: 1 hour 15 minutes
Leftover potential: Good, especially if reheated in the oven

Friday, January 15, 2010

CURRY COOKIES


Aaaaand…we’re back to cookies. Spice cookies (gingerbread, pfeffernusse, etc.) are traditional at Christmas, but I can never muster up much enthusiasm for them—especially when I could be having chocolate instead. Still, when planning my holiday assortment, I feel compelled to add the quintessential wintry flavors to the mix, and Carole Walter’s Madras Cookies (from Great Cookies) fit the bill perfectly. They’re festively redolent of spice and orange zest, but the curry powder defies the usual ginger/cinnamon hegemony, and coconut and almond—two tastes I find it hard to resist—play major supporting roles. The cookies have a complex flavor, but they’re still subtle enough to be crowd-pleasers. In other words, you don’t bite into them and say, “Oh, curry”; it just adds a certain je ne sais quoi. These are just basically just a spice cookie with a twist, but it’s a good one.

I won’t lie; Carole Walter is always a demanding mistress (I appreciate the careful specificity of her instructions, down to precisely how many minutes to run the stand mixer at each stage, but occasionally while making one of her recipes I find myself rolling my eyes at some of the hoops she wants me to jump through, even though I’m sure they do make the cookies better), and this recipe is a bit fussy, what with needing to toast the curry powder and grind the almonds and chop the coconut and everything, but I assure you that in this case, all the steps are important. I once substituted almond meal for grinding the almonds myself, and the cookies just weren’t the same—the nubbly texture I achieved in my wimpy mini food processor gave them so much more character. So put your trust in Carole.

2 teaspoons mild curry powder
2½ cups all-purpose flour, spooned in and leveled
1 cup plus about 50 (scant ½ cup) unblanched whole almonds, toasted
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, slightly firm
1 teaspoon grated orange zest
⅔ cup granulated sugar
⅔ cup lightly packed brown sugar
2 large eggs
2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup sweetened flaked coconut (Carole likes you to chop your coconut in a food processor ahead of time; I don’t always do this, but I admit that it does improve the texture of the cookies by eliminating long, troublesome strands)

1. Heat the curry powder in a small, heavy skillet over low heat for 15 to 30 seconds until fragrant. Set aside to cool.

2. Place the flour, 1 cup of almonds, toasted curry powder, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon in a food processor bowl fitted with the steel blade. Pulse 10 to 12 times, then process for 1 minute or until the mixture is finely chopped and cakey. Set aside.

3. In the large bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, mix the butter and orange zest on medium-low speed until creamy and lightened in color. Add the granulated sugar in a steady stream, then add the brown sugar and mix for about 1 minute. Add the eggs one at a time, mixing well after each, then add the vanilla, scraping the bowl as needed. Add the dry ingredients in three additions, mixing just until blended after each addition. Using a large wooden spoon, fold in the coconut.

4. Chill the dough for 20 to 30 minutes, or until firm enough to roll into balls.

5. When ready to bake, preheat the oven to 375 degrees and moderately butter your baking sheets.

6. Roll the dough in the palms of your hands to form 1-inch balls and place about 2 inches part on the baking sheets. Gently press a whole almond into the center of each cookie. Using the heel of your hand, flatten the cookie into a 1½-inch disk.

7. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes or until the edges are golden brown (toward the end of the baking time, rotate the baking sheets from top to bottom and front to back). Remove from oven and let stand 2 to 3 minutes before loosening with a thin metal spatula. Transfer to cooling racks.

Yields: 50 2-inch cookies
Time: 1½ hours, plus 30 minutes chilling
Leftover potential: High; can be frozen

Thursday, January 14, 2010

BROCCOLI SALAD WITH BACON, CHIVES, AND TOMATO


We interrupt Cookiefest to bring you a salad break—and I’m sure we could all use one, right? This recipe from Jamie Oliver (via Serious Eats) is a real winner, jazzing up barely-blanched broccoli (cooked just enough to lose that raw bitterness, but not enough to sacrifice crunch) with bacon and an addictive bacony-vinegary-mustardy-garlicky dressing that seeps into every little crevice of the broccoli. Tomatoes add nice color and acidity and the chives a subtle oniony flavor, but the real star is the broccoli. Even if you never envisioned yourself downing the green stuff by the bowlful, this might change your ways. Both A and I loved it, and although I served it on the side of some salmon, in the summer it could make a fine main dish on its own.

This most exciting thing about making this recipe was that I got to use my brand-new cast-iron skillet for frying the bacon, woohoo! There’s not too much else to note; I followed all directions as written, except that I decreased the olive oil from 6 tablespoons to 4, both because that seemed like a lot of fat for a dressing that already included bacon grease and because I could see that we weren’t going to need all that dressing anyway (I don’t like my salad drowning in dressing, so I didn’t use the whole bowl). Besides, I prefer an acidic dressing (I make my usual one with about half lemon juice and half oil). I also subbed in cherry tomatoes, because I like them so much in salads and they’re better this time of year than Romas, When summer comes, a mix of red and yellow cherry tomatoes will be so pretty against the green of the broccoli.

2 heads of broccoli, about 1½ pounds
4 slices thick-cut bacon, cut into matchsticks
2 roma tomatoes, halved, seeded, and finely chopped (or about a cup of cherry tomatoes, halved or quartered)
1 bunch fresh chives (15 to 20), finely chopped
1 clove garlic, peeled and minced or pressed
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
4–6 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
Salt and pepper to taste

1. Bring a large pot of salted water to boil. Meanwhile, trim the woody ends from the broccoli and trim the heads up into small florets of about equal size. When the water comes to a boil, blanch the broccoli for 1–2 minutes, until they are starting to get tender but still have bite in the middle. Drain in a colander and spread out on a kitchen towel to steam dry, about 15 minutes.

2. In the meantime, cook the bacon in a large skillet with a splash of olive oil over medium-low heat until the fat renders into the pan and the bacon is crisp but still slightly chewy.

3. Drain the fat collected in the bacon pan into a bowl and add the garlic, dijon, and vinegar. Whisk well to combine into an emulsion, then add the olive oil slowly in a stream, whisking constantly. Season to taste with salt and pepper and taste also for acidity, adding more vinegar or oil if needed.

4. Toss the broccoli with the tomatoes, bacon, chives, and dressing.

Serves: 4
Time: 30 minutes
Leftover potential: OK if eaten within a few days

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

CHOCOLATE PEPPERMINT BARK COOKIES


Even though my favorite way to celebrate Christmas is by making, giving, receiving, and eating homemade goodies, one of my most beloved holiday treats is a storebought product: Candy Cane Joe-Joe’s, the limited-edition version of Trader Joe’s take on Oreos. Ordinary Joe-Joe’s are plenty good too, by the way, made without preservatives and with a far superior texture than Oreos and actual vanilla-bean flecks in the filling, but I can still resist them most of the time in favor of my homemade fare. When Candy Cane Joe-Joe’s appear on the shelves, however, I must buy them and hoard them (I currently have one stashed in my freezer, awaiting the time when my post-holiday healthy eating kick wears away and I can fulfill my longtime plan of making Candy Cane Joe-Joe cookies-and-cream ice cream). They’re like Thin Mints on crack, or possibly made with crack, featuring a strong but not toothpastey peppermint flavor and a nice crunch from real bits of candy canes in the filling. They have become my gold standard for all things chocolate-peppermint, a combo I always crave when December rolls around.

I have longed to share the joy of Candy Cane Joe-Joe’s with my loved ones, but handing out $2.99 boxes of prepacked cookies at the holidays seems gauche. Yet I’d never considered trying to make my own chocolate-peppermint treats until I saw this recipe for peppermint bark chocolate cookies a couple of years ago. Perhaps it would capture the Candy Cane Joe-Joe's magic in a homemade form? I made them last Christmas, and they were…fine, but not what I was hoping for. The chocolate flavor wasn’t very intense, and the texture was uninspiring (I think I overbaked them a bit, which didn’t help). So this year I decided to try subbing peppermint bark into Carole Walter’s recipe for chocolate chocolate-chip cookies. I hadn’t tried this exact cookie before, but nearly everything in Great Cookies is, well, great, and having sampled some of her other chocolate-cookie recipes, I knew the chocolate flavor would be there.

The result? Much improved, definitely chocolatey, and complimented by many who tasted it, but still not the chocolate-peppermint cookie of my dreams. Maybe I should have put some peppermint extract in the cookie itself? Or maybe I should just make peppermint bark next year and skip the cookie entirely, which would be much less labor-intensive and equally enjoyable to eat? Besides, maybe there’s a classy way I can give away Candy Cane Joe-Joe’s, after all: This year I spotted a fancy new version of them for sale, dipped in chocolate and sprinkled with crushed candy canes. Purely for research purposes, I bought and sampled them, and they were indeed delicious, but it was verging on highway robbery—the package cost more than a box of the unadorned cookies and was half the size. It would be a simple and much more affordable matter to dip them in melted chocolate and decorate with candy cane pieces myself! Hmmm…

In the meantime, however, if you love chocolate and peppermint and don’t live near a Trader Joe’s, or have to wait 11 months before Candy Cane Joe-Joe’s season arrives again, these cookies are an excellent choice. And if for some reason you hate peppermint with chocolate, you can revert to the original recipe by substituting 12 ounces of good-quality bittersweet or semisweet chocolate chunks or chips for the peppermint bark and have yourself some darn fine chocolate chocolate chip cookies.

8 ounces good-quality bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, coarsely chopped
1 cup all-purpose flour, spooned in and leveled
2 tablespoons Dutch-processed cocoa powder
1 teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon salt
½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, slightly firm
¾ cup granulated sugar
½ cup lightly packed dark brown sugar
2 large eggs
2 tablespoons hot water
1½ teaspoons vanilla extract
12 ounces peppermint bark, cut into ¼- to ½-inch chunks

1. In a medium bowl over a pot of simmering water on low heat, slowly melt the 8 ounces of chocolate and keep warm.

2. Strain together the flour, cocoa, baking powder, and salt in a small bowl and set aside.

3. In an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, mix the butter on medium-low speed until smooth and creamy, about 1 minute. Add the granulated sugar, then the brown sugar, and mix until well blended and lightened in color 2 to three minutes. Add the eggs, mixing until well combined, scraping the bowl as needed. Blend in the warm melted chocolate, then the hot water and vanilla extract.

4. Reduce the mixer speed to low and blend in the dry ingredients in two additions, mixing until just combined. Using a large rubber spatula, fold in the peppermint bark chunks.

5. Chill the dough for 1 hour.

6. When ready to bake, preheat the oven to 350 degrees and moderately butter your baking sheets.

7. Drop 1½-inch mounds of dough from the tip of a tablespoon onto baking sheets, placing them about 3 inches apart. Scrape down the side of the bowl occasionally to endure even distribution of peppermint bark.

8. Bake for 10 to 11 minutes, rotating the baking sheets from top to bottom and front to back towards the end of the baking time. The cookies will look underdone, but they will firm up as they cool. Remove from oven and let stand for 1 or 2 minutes, then loosen with a thin metal spatula. When firm enough to handle, transfer to cooling racks.

Yield: About 4 dozen
Time: 1 hour, plus 1 hour of chilling
Leftover potential: High; can be frozen

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

PEPPERMINT BARK


We always have almond bark for Christmas, but I’d never really heard of or eaten peppermint bark before I got an itch to make peppermint bark cookies last Christmas (the cookies are a whole separate saga in themselves and will be discussed in a later post). So I made peppermint bark using this recipe and, although I accidentally bought “mint extract” (i.e., spearmint) instead of peppermint extract, giving my bark a distinct hint of chewing-gum flavor, I was impressed by how easy, pretty, and tasty the finished product was. I always think I don’t like white chocolate, but it does often have an allure, especially with the mint enhancing its cool creaminess…sort of like the inside of a peppermint patty, but less cloying. I used the peppermint bark in my cookies as planned, but noticed that the leftover fragments of the bark on their own were also well received.

So this year I thought I’d one-up myself by making this awesome-looking triple-layer peppermint bark to put into the cookies. Then I got sort of tired and scaled back to just two layers, one white one dark, basing my efforts on this recipe—although I added some peppermint extract (actual peppermint this time) to one layer because I liked the mintiness of the white chocolate last year. It was a cinch to make and turned out so deliciously that next year I’m thinking of skipping the cookies entirely and just concentrating on the peppermint bark! This is one of the simplest holiday treats around (melt, pour, and repeat!), but it looks fancy enough to make a nice gift when packaged in a cute bag or tin.

This year, I noticed peppermint bark for sale in stores everywhere at holiday time, often for upwards of $10 a pound. People, I implore you, please don’t waste your hard-earned money on that when you can do it yourself without breaking a sweat (well, unless you get a bit too aggressive while crushing those candy canes) for half the price!

1 pound dark (semisweet or bittersweet) chocolate chips (or a bar cut into squares)
1 pound white chocolate chips (or a bar cut into squares)
6 ounces (1 regular package) candy canes
½ to 1 teaspoon peppermint extract

1. Unwrap the candy canes, place them in a plastic zip-top bag, and crush them with a rolling pin, mug, mallet, or small hammer. Don’t pulverize them; you want the pieces to be pretty fragments, not sand—but you don’t want huge chunks, either. A variety of sizes and textures is nice.

2. Line a large baking sheet with waxed paper.

3. Melt the dark chocolate over a double boiler until smooth. Spread (with an offset or rubber spatula) in an even layer on the baking sheet. Place in refrigerator or freezer to harden, approximately 30 minutes.

4. Melt the white chocolate over a double boiler until smooth, then stir in peppermint extract. Spread white chocolate on top of the dark chocolate layer. Working quickly before the white chocolate sets, sprinkle the crushed candy canes on top and gently press into the chocolate. Refrigerate until complete hard and set, at least 2 hours.

5. Place a second sheet of waxed paper over the top of the slab of peppermint bark (to protect your hands from the sharp peppermint pieces and keep the chocolate from melting) and break bark into pieces. Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator or freezer.

Yield: 2 pounds
Time: 30 minutes hands-on, plus 2½ hours of hardening
Leftover potential: High. Keeps great in the freezer.

Monday, January 11, 2010

ROSEMARY ROASTED CASHEWS


Happy new year! I know that after the holidays know we’re all sick of sweets and snacks and trying to eat light and healthy fare. Believe me, one of my goals for the month (possibly the year, but I’m not making any promises) is along the lines of “more kale, fewer cookie plates.” But I’ve got all these recipes from my Christmas baking burning a hole in my pocket now—I didn’t share them in December because I didn’t really want to reveal the secret formulas right before I gave everyone treat assortments as gifts,* and also because I needed time to photograph them all—and I don’t want to wait a whole year until they’re more seasonally appropriate to post. So: things are going to be retroactively cookie-intense around here for a little while. But I’ll try to at least throw a few kale recipes into the mix as well.

(*I still feel a little shifty about sharing the recipes, like it’ll ruin the magic or something. I already posted all my jam recipes (and jam featured heavily in my gift-giving this year) when I was desperate for material during NaBloPoMo, so I guess I’m already on the slippery slope. I’m counting on all of you to forget this little peek behind the curtain by the time next Christmas rolls around and I hand you your treats. Or at least be too busy or lazy to simply whip them up yourself now that you’ve seen how easy they are.)

I’m always hoping to make more savory goodies to share at holiday time, because everyone (including me) gets so overloaded on the sweets, but the only savory recipe I’ve managed to get around to is this one. Luckily, it’s a doozy. I’ve made it for the past two years, and only financial concerns (cashews can be pricy) prevent me from making dozens of pounds at a time. This year I made a triple recipe and barely had a handful for myself. But that’s probably for the best, because I think I could eat these addictive little gems until I burst—which is why, even though they’d be perfect for any party or just a relaxing evening in front of the TV, I try to forget about them for the other 11 months of the year. They’re not particularly unwholesome if eaten in moderation (only a touch of butter, sugar, and salt), but moderation is hard to achieve when these are around. They’re just the perfect mix of salty, sweet, spicy and savory, with a festive green pine-needle zip from the rosemary. (Don’t skimp on the rosemary! Spice-phobes can cut back the cayenne and sodium-watchers can dial down the salt, but the rosemary makes the recipe.)

The recipe is from the Barefoot Contessa; taking a tip from the commenters, I modified the procedure slightly to add the butter and then the spices to give everything to stick to the cashews. It’s still a struggle, but you’ll have a better chance of success with this method—and luckily, I’ve found that most snackers find the stray crumbs of butter-sugar-spice-herb debris quite as tasty as the cashews themselves. Aside from the mixing issues, this recipe is hard to mess up—as long as you don’t scorch the cashews! For the love of all that’s good and holy, watch those cashews in the oven like a hawk, because there is nothing sadder than spending upwards of $5 per pound on some nuts and then ruining them right off the bat. I speak from experience. However, I can also attest that as long as they aren’t blackened, even the overcooked cashews are pretty tasty when the seasoning is applied, so you can always save that batch for yourself and make better ones to give away.

1¼ pounds unsalted cashew nuts (this is sort of an odd amount; at Trader Joe’s the cashews come in one-pound bags, so that’s what I usually use and it’s fine)
2 tablespoons coarsely chopped fresh rosemary leaves
½ teaspoon cayenne pepper
2 teaspoons dark brown sugar
2 teaspoons coarse kosher salt
1 tablespoon melted butter

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

2. Place the nuts on an ungreased baking sheet and bake for about 10 minutes until they are warmed through. (Watch them very closely to avoid burning. You don’t really want them to get especially brown; you just want them to be lightly toasted and activate their oils enough for the seasonings to stick.)

3. Meanwhile, combine the rosemary, pepper, sugar, and salt in a small bowl. Place the melted butter in a separate small bowl (or just use the container you melted it in). Have a large empty mixing bowl and a rubber spatula ready.

4. When you remove the nuts from the oven, immediately pour them into the large bowl, and working quickly, drizzle the butter over them, add the seasonings, and then toss well with the spatula. Serve warm or (once cooled) store in an airtight container (they’re even better the next day). Can be frozen for longer storage.

Yields: 1¼ pounds
Time: 20 minutes
Leftover potential: High, if you don’t scarf them all down immediately. They’ll stay fresh in the freezer for weeks.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

CREAM BISCUITS

Holy cow, I made biscuits! Honest-to-goodness, delicious biscuits! And it was so incredibly easy!

OK, biscuits may not be the hardest thing in the world to make, but I’ve always avoided them for some reason, probably because I have an irrational fear of any recipe that involves cutting butter into flour (pie crust, etc.), plus I’ve made a heck of a lot of baking-soda breads that haven’t turned out well. But when I saw this recipe so highly praised at The Smitten Kitchen and realized that it used cream instead of butter, there went my feeble excuse for avoiding biscuit-making. Even with my questionable dough-handling abilities, I was pretty sure I could manage to stir melted butter and heavy cream into some dry ingredients, pat the dough out flat, and cut it into circles (not owning a biscuit cutter, of course, I just used the top of a drinking glass). I was skeptical the entire time, waiting for flat, dry lumps of sadness to emerge from the oven, so imagine my thrill when they came out light, flaky, and puffy, just like real biscuits! (“But they are real biscuits,” A had to keep reminding me.)

We served these with a cider-braised chicken dish (from the St. Paul Farmers Market Cookbook) that turned out a little disappointingly, but the biscuits so wildly exceeded my expectations that I didn’t even mind. Now that I know I can whip them up with no trouble on an average weeknight, the possibilities are endless! They’ll be great dipped into soups, or spread with homemade jam, but when I get back to cooking after New Year’s, my first order of business will be to try them with creamed chicken on top.

The biscuits are best straight from the oven, but I still found them pretty tasty the next day, after a brief zapping in the microwave. But if you don’t want to eat 10 biscuits right away, you can either freeze the leftover biscuits or—and this sounds like a brilliant idea I’ll certainly be trying soon—freeze the dough rounds to bake later.

3 tablespoons melted butter
2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting the surface
1 tablespoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
1½ cups heavy cream

1. Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Melt butter in a small pot or microwave dish, and set aside.

2. Sift 2 cups flour, the baking powder, and the salt into a large bowl. Fold in 1¼ cups cream. If the dough is not soft or easily handled, fold in the remaining ¼ cup cream, little by little. (I ended up using about 2 additional tablespoons.)

3. Turn dough onto a floured surface, mound it into a ball, and, using your hands, press it to a thickness of about ¾ inch. Cut into rounds, 2½ inches in diameter. Gather dough scraps, press them flat again, and continue to make rounds. Dip the top of each round in melted butter (or brush it generously with butter if that seems easier) and arrange biscuits on the baking sheet.

4. Bake until golden, 12 to 15 minutes. Serve immediately, or freeze for future use. (You can also freeze the uncooked dough rounds; they can be baked straight from the freezer, although a few extra minutes of baking time will be needed.)

Yield: About 10
Time: 30 minutes
Leftover potential: Good, if frozen

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

POTATO-LEEK PIZZA WITH BACON


Oh, yum. I spotted this why-didn’t-I-think-of-it recipe in Pioneer Woman’s brand-new cookbook, The Pioneer Woman Cooks. I love her humor and her tantalizing concoctions (accompanied by dazzling step-by-step photographs), even though they’re a bit richer and heavier than I’d usually cook for our little Southern Californian household of two, one of whom has a petite appetite and the other of whom hunches over a computer in a cubicle all day instead of performing grueling, calorie-burning ranch labor on the wide-open prairie. (Really, the only other PW recipes I’ve actually made are the fabulous ranch dressing and oatmeal-jam bars.) But this twist on the iconic flavor combination of potatoes and leeks, with some bacon thrown in, sounded too good to pass up—and you know how I love pizza.

It was fully as delicious as it sounded. The only real changes I made were to omit the goat cheese (because even though I keep on trying it, I just don’t like goat cheese), and halved the amount of mozzarella (because a pound is a lot of cheese). I can see that the goat cheese would add a zippier flavor, and if I’d had some asiago or Gruyere, I might have thrown a bit on there, but we both loved it plenty well as is. If I were making this just for myself, I might have reduced the bacon (to, say, 4 slices) and increased the leeks (to at least 4), but A was horrified when I mentioned it the idea (if anything, he wanted more bacon and fewer leeks—but then, this is the man who got bacon chocolate chip cookies for Valentine’s day, and he doesn’t share my adulation for leeks). So we’ll just keep that ratio the way it’s written.

Tips: Do be sure to use fresh mozzarella, because you need the moisture it provides, and do be sure to slice the potatoes paper-thin. This is the only potato pizza recipe I’ve tried where the potatoes aren’t cooked beforehand, and while that does make things easier, I worried the whole time about ending up with crunchy potatoes, especially since I’d sliced them by hand (a mandoline seems useful, but so very sharp and scary, and where would I keep it?). In the end, while the potatoes were not raw as I’d feared, they did have a bit more bite than usual. I liked the chewy, slightly al dente texture that resulted, but I certainly wouldn’t have wanted them any less cooked than that. So keep ’em thin!

1 pound pizza dough
Extra-virgin olive oil
Kosher salt
6 slices thick-cut bacon, diced
3 leeks, rinsed well to remove grit and thinly sliced
5 small red or Yukon Gold potatoes
8 ounces fresh mozzarella cheese, sliced thin
Freshly grated Parmesan cheese to taste
Freshly ground black pepper

1. Preheat the oven to 500 degrees. Roll out the pizza dough on a baking sheet, drizzle it lightly with olive oil, and sprinkle it lightly with salt.

2. In a skillet over medium heat, fry the bacon until cooked but not completely crisp, then remove with a slotted spoon and set aside on a paper-towel-lined plate to drain. Pour off most of the grease, but do not clean the skillet. Return it to the stove and, over medium-low heat, saute the leeks until soft, about 3 minutes. Remove the leeks from the heat and set aside.

3. Using a sharp knife or mandoline, slice the potatoes very thin. Arrange the potatoes in a single layer all over the crust, slightly overlapping the edges. Sprinkle the potatoes lightly with salt, then lay the mozzarella slices in a single layer on top. Place the leeks on top of the cheese, then sprinkle the fried bacon pieces over the top. Add a generous dose of grated Parmesan and a sprinkle of pepper.

4. Bake 8 to 11 minutes, until the edges of the crust are golden brown and the cheese is melted and bubbly.

Serves: 4
Time: 1 hour
Leftover potential: Good

Monday, November 23, 2009

APPLE BUTTER

I know this photo looks pretty much exactly like the one for pear butter, but it's just a trick of the light, I swear! The apple butter is a much darker shade of brown.

I’ve been making and canning this apple butter from Simply Recipes as a holiday treat for at least three years now and am always pleased with the results—sweet, tart, and spiced, with a velvety consistency, great on toast, on pancakes, or in oatmeal. Apples are cheap and plentiful at this time of year (I usually use Fujis because I can buy seconds—small and slightly flawed but perfectly tasty—at the farmers’ market for $1.50 a pound); the recipe is clever (I love that you initially cook the whole apple, peel, core, seeds, and all, to maximize the flavor and natural pectin content) and fairly easy, although I can always be heard swearing when it comes time to put the boiled apples through the food mill. Why does it seem that I need three hands to work a food mill effectively (one to turn the crank, and two to hold it steady so it doesn’t jump around)?

This year I finally bought my own food mill ($25 at Bed Bath and Beyond with their 20% off coupon), after always having to borrow one in the past. I’m a bit reluctant to own such an infernal device, plus it seems silly to have a largish kitchen item that I’m only going to use once per year (although by that token, I wouldn’t have a cookie press, either), and it feels redundant to now possess four different machines for pureeing food (although unlike the blender, small food processor, and immersion blender, the food mill has the obvious advantage of straining out peels and seeds). Ideally, I’ll find a few more uses for the food mill (I could have used it on the pear butter, for starters), but even if I only ever use it for my annual batch of apple butter, it'll earn its keep admirably.

By the way, this is officially my last canning project until 2010 (sigh), both because I need to concentrate on holiday baking and because all those little glass jars are threatening to take over the apartment.

4 pounds good cooking apples (e.g., Granny Smith or Gravenstein; I used Fuji)
1 cup apple cider vinegar
2 cups water
Sugar (about 4 cups; see cooking instructions)
Salt
2 teaspoons cinnamon
½ teaspoon ground cloves
½ teaspoon allspice
Grated rind and juice of 1 lemon

1. Prepare jars and closures as in steps 1-2 here.

2. Cut the apples into quarters, without peeling or coring them (much of the pectin is in the cores and flavor in the peels), and cut out any damaged parts.

3. Put the apples into a large pot, add the vinegar and water, cover, bring to a boil, reduce heat to simmer, and cook until apples are soft, about 20 minutes. Remove from heat.

4. Ladle apple mixture into a chinois sieve or food mill and force pulp through the sieve or mill into a large bowl below. Measure resulting puree. Add ½ cup sugar for each cup of apple pulp. Stir to dissolve sugar. Add a dash of salt, and the cinnamon, ground cloves, allspice, lemon rind, and lemon juice. Taste and adjust seasonings if necessary.

5. Cook uncovered in a large, wide, thick-bottomed pot on medium-low heat, stirring every 5 minutes to prevent burning. Cook 1 to 2 hours, until thick and smooth when a bit is spooned onto a cold plate and allowed to cool.

6. Fill jars and process for 10 minutes, as in steps 7-9 here.

Yield: 14-16 4-ounce jars
Time: 4 hours
Leftover potential: Yes!

Saturday, November 21, 2009

PROSCIUTTO-AND-BASIL-WRAPPED CHICKEN FINGERS


This brilliant, easier-than-pie little chicken recipe from The Hungry Mouse tastes about like what you'd expect, but that's hardly anything to be ashamed of when what you expect and receive is chicken wrapped in basil and thin, salty ham. For about the quickest chicken dish I can think of, the end result is disproportionately pretty, or at least it would have been if I hadn't found the paper-thin slices of Trader Joe's prosciutto so unexpectedly hard to manipulate without tearing (it was worse than working with phyllo!). I just ended up sort of hamhandedly (hee! sorry) draping them as best I could around the chicken, but they still cooked up elegantly, the prosciutto forming a crisp, translucent shell around the tender chicken.

This recipe is the perfect solution for when you want a little protein to accompany a more labor-intensive dish; I was desperate for arugula, potato, and green bean salad, which is, let's face it, kind of a lot of work for a salad, what with toasting the walnuts, boiling the potatoes and then the green beans, washing and drying the arugula, and making the dressing, so I wanted something with it that I could just throw in and out of the oven, and this fit the bill perfectly. I especially liked the more manageable two-bite, hand-holdable size of the little chicken tenders; sometimes I get daunted when faced with a huge slab of chicken breast that I have to saw my way through with a knife. These would probably be a hit with kids, or as part of a party spread.

An equivalent number of chicken breast tenders (or chicken breast sliced into strips), prosciutto slices, and large basil leaves; I used 8 of each
Kosher salt to taste
Freshly cracked black pepper to taste
Olive oil to taste

1. Preheat your oven to 425 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and set it aside.

2. Place a basil leaf atop each piece of chicken (it should mostly cover the chicken; if it’s too small, use two).

3. Starting at one end of a piece of chicken, wrap a slice of prosciutto around the chicken, keeping the basil in place. Set the wrapped chicken on your prepared baking sheet, and repeat with remaining chicken pieces.

4. Drizzle a little olive oil on each piece of chicken, then sprinkle with a little kosher salt and freshly cracked black pepper.

5. Bake for about 15 minutes, until chicken is cooked (juices should run clear) and prosciutto is nice and crisp.

Serves: 3–4 as a main dish, more as an appetizer/snack
Time: 30 minutes
Leftover potential: Good; these reheat fairly well.