August 2003 Archives

I've been eating out a lot, and no one place was really very exciting, but I'll sum them up here:

I made my first souffle last night, a cheese one, and I think it turned out pretty good. I made it from a recipe in Julia's Kitchen Wisdom and used a 6-cup dish, which made for a more stable, less spectacular souffle. (The souffle didn't rise above the dish; you'd need a 4-cup dish for that.) So I didn't even need a collar.

First thing I did was heat the oven to 400 degrees and get out the 2 egg whites I had in the freezer. Then I prepped the bowl I was going to whip the whites in: rubbed the inside and the beaters with a little bit of salt and white vinegar (the residual vinegar in the bowl helps stabilize the whites). Then I put the frozen egg whites in the bowl and put the bowl in a pan with an inch of warm water (to thaw the whites). I added 3 more whites to that bowl, saving those egg yolks plus 1 more in another bowl.

I prepped the baking dish by coating it with butter and grated Parmesan and shredded a cup of Madrigal Swiss for the souffle. Then I made the white sauce: Cooked 3 tablespoons flour and 2 1/2 tablespoons butter in a large saucepan until foamy, then cooked it a couple minutes longer and took it off the heat. Meanwhile I heated a cup of milk in the microwave and then whisked it into the flour mixture. Simmered that over low heat to thicken, then added 1/4 teaspoon paprika, a couple gratings of nutmeg, 1/2 teaspoon salt and a few grinds of pepper. Then whisked in the 4 egg yolks, 1 at a time. Set that aside.

Whipped the 5 egg whites in the bowl with a hand mixer until they were shiny and had peaks when the beaters were lifted. Whisked a big glob of that into the white sauce, then folded in the rest of the whites, alternating with the 1 cup shredded Swiss. Poured it into the prepared dish, put it in the oven, turned the oven down to 375 degrees and let it cook for 30 minutes. It was done when a skewer inserted in the side came out clean.

Todd looked at this beautiful, puffy souffle and said, So it's basically like scrambled eggs. And I thought about the ingredients and said Yeah, I guess, except for the hour of work that went into it. But then when we dug in, and he put some in his mouth, he said, This is nothing like scrambled eggs. Why'd you say it was? (I guess I just thought he'd be more likely to try it if I said it was like something familiar - and this is my husband, not a child.) He ate it, had seconds and liked the cheese flavor.

This is one of those simple, quick desserts that I can throw together when I really want something sweet and homemade. The other one's the chocolate pudding I made for dessert when I braised some meat with a recipe from Chez Panisse - Basic Braise (Plus Pudding) in my archive.

The basic recipe starts with old, dry French bread and includes cinnamon and raisins, but I play around with it a lot, substituting chocolate chips for the raisins, cocoa for the cinnamon, adding other spices. This time, I used some leftover cinnamon-raisin bread, cut in 1-inch cubes. I soaked about 4 to 5 cups of the cubes in 2 cups lowfat milk for a couple of minutes, while I mixed together about 1/2 cup sugar, 2 eggs and a dash of vanilla. Added the sugar mixture to the bread mixture and stirred until combined, then put it in a shallow baking dish and baked it in a 350 degree oven for about 45 minutes, until the small puddles of milk-egg mixture have turned to custard. No water bath, no fancy ingredients. And it's a pretty good bread pudding.

This is one of those simple, quick desserts that I can throw together when I really want something sweet and homemade. The other one's the chocolate pudding I made for dessert when I braised some meat with a recipe from Chez Panisse - Basic Braise (Plus Pudding) in my archive.

The basic recipe starts with old, dry French bread and includes cinnamon and raisins, but I play around with it a lot, substituting chocolate chips for the raisins, cocoa for the cinnamon, adding other spices. This time, I used some leftover cinnamon-raisin bread, cut in 1-inch cubes. I soaked about 4 to 5 cups of the cubes in 2 cups lowfat milk for a couple of minutes, while I mixed together about 1/2 cup sugar, 2 eggs and a dash of vanilla. Added the sugar mixture to the bread mixture and stirred until combined, then put it in a shallow baking dish and baked it in a 350 degree oven for about 45 minutes, until the small puddles of milk-egg mixture have turned to custard. No water bath, no fancy ingredients. And it's a pretty good bread pudding.

At home I had lettuce, crumbled blue cheese, walnuts and scallions, which I felt was on its way to being a good main-dish salad but not quite there. The deli around the corner from where I work, Belly Delly (yes, it's spelled like that), always has a whole turkey breast, sliced but still on the bones, on its steam table for lunch. So I got a few slices of that. (Fresh turkey for just over $1 - you can't beat that. And I don't want to hear about the food safety issues.)

Tossed the greens with a homemade balsamic vinaigrette and put them on plates, then tossed the turkey, which I had pulled into strips, with the vinaigrette that was left in the bottom of the salad bowl. Topped the greens with that, then with the cheese, toasted walnuts and scallions.

Yes, Todd was foraging around the kitchen for more food an hour later (sometimes I have to make a me-size meal).

We had eggs for dinner. Do I feel guilty about it? No.

I sauteed the leftover diced chorizo and added leftover sauteed diced onion and bell pepper. I broke up some eggs in a bowl and added salt and pepper, then poured that into the skillet with the chorizo. Toasted some tortillas in another nonstick skillet and served it all together.

The Key Food that's across Queens Blvd from us was terrible three years ago when we moved in. Dirty, slow (this is relevant, I promise). It's really improved, though, with faster, more helpful checkout people and nice, clean aisles with good variety. (I do still object to their produce section. They prepackage everything, so you're forced to buy six apples when you buy apples, or two dozen jalapenos, and you don't get to select each individual one yourself.) Shortly after the blackout they put up a sign that read that all their dairy, meat, etc, is new. So I felt OK buying eggs and milk last night. It seems like another sign that their management is really trying, too. (I know this seems like a long tirade about a regular old grocery store, but I cried when I saw my grocery options here. The gourmet stores are great, but not always convenient. The regular grocery stores are small and crowded, not well organized, lack selection, etc.)

One book I really enjoyed is Appetite for Life, a biography of Julia Child. I know it's been said over and over again, but she really takes an appealing approach to food: She's curious, passionate and rarely intimidated, or intimidating. Reading about her life was fun - she came to cooking relatively late, if I remember correctly.

I've now stumbled upon another chef biography, that of Julia's colleague, Jacques Pepin: The Apprentice. His story is a bit more daunting for the novice cook, because he's been working in kitchens since before he was 13 years old. I haven't gotten very far in it yet, but I'm hooked. It's easy and enjoyable to read so far.

He was a child in France during WWII, but he touches on the hardships with a very light hand, instead seeing how his summers spent as a city kid hosted by farmers gave him an early understanding of the superiority of fresh, simple food. He comes from a restaurant family and had an opportunity to apprentice at a hotel restaurant, but so far he's still a playful child.

One book I really enjoyed is Appetite for Life, a biography of Julia Child. I know it's been said over and over again, but she really takes an appealing approach to food: She's curious, passionate and rarely intimidated, or intimidating. Reading about her life was fun - she came to cooking relatively late, if I remember correctly.

I've now stumbled upon another chef biography, that of Julia's colleague, Jacques Pepin: The Apprentice. His story is a bit more daunting for the novice cook, because he's been working in kitchens since before he was 13 years old. I haven't gotten very far in it yet, but I'm hooked. It's easy and enjoyable to read so far.

He was a child in France during WWII, but he touches on the hardships with a very light hand, instead seeing how his summers spent as a city kid hosted by farmers gave him an early understanding of the superiority of fresh, simple food. He comes from a restaurant family and had an opportunity to apprentice at a hotel restaurant, but so far he's still a playful child.

One of Todd's favorite foods is chorizo, that smokey, spicy Spanish sausage. I diced up some chorizo and sauteed it to cook out a little of the fat. Removed the sausage from the skillet, then I used to that flavorful chorizo fat to sautee diced green pepper and onion. Mixed it with the chorizo, then layered shredded Monterey Jack and the chorizo mixture on flour tortillas. Folded the tortillas in half, then cooked them to brown the tortilla on each side.

I did use cheese in this, and thought it smelled a little off, but Todd insisted it smelled fine, and I'm sure I was just being paranoid. We both ate it, and neither of us is sick today. (The cheese is necessary to hold the whole thing together.) This was really good, especially if you get the tortilla crispy.

This is what a real tomato should look like. Big, knarled, dirty and red, red, red all the way through. I bought this Jersey tomato at the Union Square farmers' market. I've been trying to prepare meals with no meat, dairy or eggs, and this is what I came up with last night. First you combine 1 cup dry bulgur with 3/4 cup boiling water, cover it and let it sit 15 minutes. (I didn't think it'd be enough water, but it was. The bulgur ended up kind of chewy, which was nice.) Add a diced tomato and cucumber, 3 sliced scallions, a couple tablespoons chopped parsley, salt, pepper, a drained can of garbanzo beans and lemon vinaigrette (1/4 cup each lemon juice and olive oil, salt, pepper and a pinch of cayenne). Let it chill for at least an hour (it was better today for lunch than it was last night for dinner, so the longer you can leave it to chill, the better).

This was so easy to make: combine a 15-ounce can of white beans, 1 1/2 tablespoon olive oil, 1 chopped garlic clove, 2 tablespoons flat-leaf parsley and salt and pepper to taste in a food processor until it's the texture you want. I added cumin and chipotle powder, but lemon and rosemary might be nice, too. We dipped breadsticks in it and had a salad for dinner, but it might be good as a crostini spread, too.

We have no food in the house: We returned from Durango late Tuesday, and hadn't found time to go to the grocery store when, on Thursday night, NYC lost power along with a good chunk of the northeast. I guess it 's kind of a blessing: Instead of worrying about food going bad in our fridge, we finally have a defrosted freezer, which until Friday morning had a three-inch layer of ice all the way around.

I had made a trip to Amy's Bread during my lunch break Thursday, so I lugged a round loaf of sourdough with me when I joined the walking throngs during the most congested rush hour ever.

Yesterday morning power returned at 8 a.m. for us, so restaurants weren't open for breakfast and the grocery store was just opening its doors. What do you buy when you know the market has been without power for 16 hours? We bought olive oil and tomatoes to make bruschetta with bottled artichoke hearts and the sourdough, plus doughnuts, a cantaloupe and nondairy creamer for breakfast. I've spent so much time shopping the perimeter of the market that I don't know what to buy when I suspect that all the fresh stuff is spoiled.

And how long do I need to wait until I can be sure all that bad stuff is out of the shops? I'm suspicious of all the dairy, meat, poultry. Will eggs be OK? Maybe just not used raw for a while. What about our favorite little cheese shop? I think some cheeses would be fine, but how much of their inventory will they lose? I'm counting on fresh fruits and veggies as a saving grace, but the market we go to never has a very appetizing selection. Maybe the trains are running today and we can take a trip to the farmers' market.

It's really amazing that such a huge loss of power turned out to be nothing more than an enormous inconvenience for most of the millions of people affected. I'm glad all I have to complain about is the possibility of some foul-odored milk or chicken. Maybe I'll find some cooking inspiration in Union Square.

We have no food in the house: We returned from Durango late Tuesday, and hadn't found time to go to the grocery store when, on Thursday night, NYC lost power along with a good chunk of the northeast. I guess it 's kind of a blessing: Instead of worrying about food going bad in our fridge, we finally have a defrosted freezer, which until Friday morning had a three-inch layer of ice all the way around.

I had made a trip to Amy's Bread during my lunch break Thursday, so I lugged a round loaf of sourdough with me when I joined the walking throngs during the most congested rush hour ever.

Yesterday morning power returned at 8 a.m. for us, so restaurants weren't open for breakfast and the grocery store was just opening its doors. What do you buy when you know the market has been without power for 16 hours? We bought olive oil and tomatoes to make bruschetta with bottled artichoke hearts and the sourdough, plus doughnuts, a cantaloupe and nondairy creamer for breakfast. I've spent so much time shopping the perimeter of the market that I don't know what to buy when I suspect that all the fresh stuff is spoiled.

And how long do I need to wait until I can be sure all that bad stuff is out of the shops? I'm suspicious of all the dairy, meat, poultry. Will eggs be OK? Maybe just not used raw for a while. What about our favorite little cheese shop? I think some cheeses would be fine, but how much of their inventory will they lose? I'm counting on fresh fruits and veggies as a saving grace, but the market we go to never has a very appetizing selection. Maybe the trains are running today and we can take a trip to the farmers' market.

It's really amazing that such a huge loss of power turned out to be nothing more than an enormous inconvenience for most of the millions of people affected. I'm glad all I have to complain about is the possibility of some foul-odored milk or chicken. Maybe I'll find some cooking inspiration in Union Square.

Todd's mom is a great cook. So whenever Todd goes home to Durango (which only happens about once every three years) he always has some dish he wants her to make for him. This time, it was huevos rancheroes. For various reasons, he didn't get his dream breakfast until the last day we were there, right before we left for the airport for our 8 a.m. flight. Can't say that eggs and refried beans are the best thing to have at 6 a.m., but they did keep me full almost the entire six hours we were traveling (a good thing, too, because among the indignities United subjected us to on this trip was a terrible snack instead of the simple lunch that anyone flying a premium airline from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. deserves - they lost our luggage, too).

Anyway, the huevos rancheros is pretty simple, but a satisfying combination. Flour tortillas fried in a thin layer of very hot oil just a few seconds, until crispy; refried beans; a fried egg; and enchilada sauce. Top it all with Cheddar cheese and salsa. I usually poach my eggs and toast corn tortillas in the oven when I make it - I still prefer the poached egg, but the fried flour tortilla definitely beats a dried out corn tortilla.

That's Todd's mom's, actually (or I could've called them Crisco's peanut butter cookies, but that doesn't have quite the same ring). They're about two inches across and thin and crispy (but not crumbly), with tiny bits of peanut throughout. They're the kind with the crisscrossed fork marks on top (ah, childhood). Linda (Todd's mom) suggests flouring the fork if it sticks to the cookies when you press them down.

Cream together 3/4 cup crunchy peanut butter, 1/2 cup shortening, 1 1/4 cups light-brown sugar, 3 tablespoons milk and 1 tablespoon vanilla. Add 1 egg and mix. Combine 1 3/4 cups flour, 3/4 teaspoon salt and 3/4 teaspoon baking soda, then add that to the creamed mixture. Drop by heaping teaspoonfuls and then flatten with a fork, making perpendicular marks. Bake in a 375 degree oven 7 or 8 minutes until browned around the edges. I haven't made these myself, but I have eaten a large enough number of them to be able to recommend the recipe (and to have gained a pound or two, too, I would think).

Do I have to say this? I almost hate to do it. I was passing through Madison Square Park at lunchtime today, so I stopped by the hot dog stand to try their New York hot dog. I had tried the Chicago dog a little more than a week ago.

I think it's kind of overrated. I know, it's a hot dog, so how great can it be? But with all that stuff on top, you can hardly taste the dog. The New York dog comes with a big gooey mess of onions, sauerkraut, mustard and ketchup, which kind of hides the hot dog taste and texture (maybe that's the point, but if you don't like hot dogs, you just shouldn't eat them).

The Chicago hot dog is kind of nice. It also has a little too much stuff, but it's fresh, clean-tasting stuff, like lettuce, tomatoes and hot peppers, neon green relish and atomic yellow mustard. The crunchiness of the toppings is a nice contrast to the snap and bite of the meat (am I allowed to call it meat?).

That's not to say I wouldn't be there often if I worked in the area. And the price is really right for both. I'm just finding that I might be a bit of a hot-dog purist. (That's quite a contradiction in terms, isn't it?)

Do I have to say this? I almost hate to do it. I was passing through Madison Square Park at lunchtime today, so I stopped by the hot dog stand to try their New York hot dog. I had tried the Chicago dog a little more than a week ago.

I think it's kind of overrated. I know, it's a hot dog, so how great can it be? But with all that stuff on top, you can hardly taste the dog. The New York dog comes with a big gooey mess of onions, sauerkraut, mustard and ketchup, which kind of hides the hot dog taste and texture (maybe that's the point, but if you don't like hot dogs, you just shouldn't eat them).

The Chicago hot dog is kind of nice. It also has a little too much stuff, but it's fresh, clean-tasting stuff, like lettuce, tomatoes and hot peppers, neon green relish and atomic yellow mustard. The crunchiness of the toppings is a nice contrast to the snap and bite of the meat (am I allowed to call it meat?).

That's not to say I wouldn't be there often if I worked in the area. And the price is really right for both. I'm just finding that I might be a bit of a hot-dog purist. (That's quite a contradiction in terms, isn't it?)

I had leftover pasta dough from this weekend's ravioli, so last night while Todd was at class I rolled it out, cut it into squares and boiled it. I sauteed the rest of the Swiss chard and tossed it with the pasta and some ravioli filling (ricotta, Parmesan, salt, pepper, parsley). The instructor at my pasta class said she usually figures one serving per egg (the recipe we used had three eggs, 2 1/2 cups flour), but I found that's way too much. So I had leftovers today for lunch.

But it felt indulgent last night to be rolling out my single serving of fresh pasta, just for me. It's too bad pasta dough doesn't stay fresh for long in the fridge; otherwise I'd keep some in there all the time.

So our Sunday will be immortalized!

We went to Bryant Park to be part of The Unbelievable Show's attempt to beat the Guinness World Record for the biggest picnic, and they succeeded. I'm actually kind of surprised; the park wasn't crowded at all, but there was a mammoth street fair stretching all the way from 42nd street to Central Park (it looked like) on 6th Avenue, a huge sea of people that could contribute to the effort.

The lemonade had not thawed, but we didn't get rained on, and I started a book I'm really enjoying, so it was good.

So our Sunday will be immortalized!

We went to Bryant Park to be part of The Unbelievable Show's attempt to beat the Guinness World Record for the biggest picnic, and they succeeded. I'm actually kind of surprised; the park wasn't crowded at all, but there was a mammoth street fair stretching all the way from 42nd street to Central Park (it looked like) on 6th Avenue, a huge sea of people that could contribute to the effort.

The lemonade had not thawed, but we didn't get rained on, and I started a book I'm really enjoying, so it was good.

It can be done. I did it yesterday. I made pasta by hand, with only flour, salt, eggs, a rolling pin and a knife. It helps to have some very strong arms (the pasta that Todd, taking pity on my, rolled out turned out much better than my too-thick pasta). The dough started to get kind of rubbery toward the end of the rolling, and would contract back after every roll. I think letting it rest for a few minutes helped, but it would have been even better if I were a more patient and persistant person.

I think I've decided to go ahead and get a hand-cranked pasta machine, since they don't seem to take up that much space. Homemade pasta is so different from anything else, and it'd be so easy with a machine. I have a little bit of pasta dough left, and I think I'm going to experiment with some other shapes for my dinner tomorrow (I made ravioli yesterday).

It can be done. I did it yesterday. I made pasta by hand, with only flour, salt, eggs, a rolling pin and a knife. It helps to have some very strong arms (the pasta that Todd, taking pity on my, rolled out turned out much better than my too-thick pasta). The dough started to get kind of rubbery toward the end of the rolling, and would contract back after every roll. I think letting it rest for a few minutes helped, but it would have been even better if I were a more patient and persistant person.

I think I've decided to go ahead and get a hand-cranked pasta machine, since they don't seem to take up that much space. Homemade pasta is so different from anything else, and it'd be so easy with a machine. I have a little bit of pasta dough left, and I think I'm going to experiment with some other shapes for my dinner tomorrow (I made ravioli yesterday).

The ingredients to the ice cream I just made, as they would appear on the side of the package: peaches, heavy cream, sugar, lemon juice, vanilla extract, salt. I can't bring myself to buy vanilla beans, especially if vanilla isn't the primary flavor. Here, the flavor's peach, all the way through. It's a recipe I cut out of a New York Times Magazine.

First you peel and coarsely chop the peaches. I had three sad-looking, wrinkly peaches that inspired me to make the ice cream, because every time I walked by them, I'd get a tease of their aroma, but they didn't look very appetizing. They were heaven, though. The skins peeled right off, without a knife or blanching, and then my knife went right through the flesh, which came right off the pitt. Add 1/4 cup sugar, a sprinkling of salt and a squeeze of lemon juice, then let them sit and macerate for half an hour.

While that's doing, combine 2 cups heavy cream with 6 tablespoons sugar and heat until the sugar dissolves. Then add a teaspoon vanilla and let it cool. When the peaches' half hour is over, pour the cream over them and put it in the fridge to chill. (Here's where things got frustrating for me. I had started chilling my ice cream maker canister about 8 hours before, and it wasn't enough time, but I started making the ice cream anyway, and it just wouldn't freeze. It may be obvious to most, but make sure the ice cream canister is frozen and the mixture is chilled before proceeding. I just put the mixture back in the fridge and refroze the canister, trying again at about midnight last night.) Do the ice cream maker thing to it, and then chill it in the freezer for some extra time or go ahead and eat it soft-serve.

I do think, next time, I might use fewer peaches, and cut them into smaller chunks. The chunks get kind of sorbet textured, frozen and cold, inside the creamy ice cream. The peaches release all this juice so everything ends up tasting like peach, and the ice cream part gets this pale peachy color. You've gotta love summer.

I've decided on a menu for the World-Record-Breaking picnic in Bryant Park tomorrow (see entry below): steak salad with blue cheese, red onion, walnuts and greens, almond madeleines (which I made yesterday) and lemonade.

The madeleine recipe I used is from Ladies' Home Journal. I don't know if it's the recipe or the weather, but even though they taste good and have a nice, fluffy texture, they've become a little sticky on the side that was up top during baking. I guess it's been pretty humid here, so I shouldn't blame the recipe.

Mix 1/2 cup sugar with 3 eggs, then add 3/4 cup flour, 1/4 cup finely ground almonds, 1/2 teaspoon baking powder and 1/8 teaspoon salt. Mix until combined, then pour in 1/2 cup melted unsalted butter and 1/2 teaspoon each vanilla and almond extract. Let it sit, covered, at room temperature 20 minutes, then spoon into madeleine mold (I had found a mini-madeleine mold on the giveaway table at work, so I ended up making almost 100 little cakes instead of the 24 specified in the recipe - it was one of those rubbery "pans," and I think I approve, even though I was skeptical at first - the madeleines popped right out, and I hear that getting them out of the pan is usually a big problem with traditional pans).

Made the lemonade same as last time, then stuck it in the freezer in plastic bottles so it'll be cold for the picnic.

Oh, and we didn't go to Dos Caminos the other night. The reservation was late, so I made an earlier one at Noche, then Todd decided he'd rather have barbecue so we went to Virgil's instead. We love Virgil's (well, Todd loves it, and I'm kind of a fan). It's not fine dining, but I love the cheesy grits, which are the epitome of comfort food to me, and the ribs are good and plentiful so you're eating them for the whole week (at least, the next day).