February 2006 Archives

Todd, August and I have been nomads for the last week, having sold our previous apartment and not into our new one yet. The last few nights we were fortunate to stay with some friends who have a daughter who's a little more than a year older than August. So the last night we made some Roman gnocchi because we thought the little ones would like it. We cut it into little star, fish and heart shapes, and August just ate it up.

It's a lot like fried polenta, only much easier and tastier, with crispy edges. First you bring 2 1/2 cups milk (seasoned with salt, pepper and nutmeg, to a boil, then you gradually whisk in 1 cup of farina and stir over low heat up to 20 minutes, until the mixture is so thick that the spoon stands up in it. Then stir in 1/2 cup grated Parmesan, a couple tablespoons butter and a well-beaten egg. Spread it out in an oiled pan and allow to cool, then cut into shapes and arrange, overlapping, in a buttered baking pan. Dot with more butter and top with more grated Parmesan, then bake in a 425 degree oven for 15 to 20 minutes.

For V-Day August and I made some cheesecake bars that turned out a little humdrum. So I whipped up an easy, easy chocolate sauce that I have been eating by the spoonful since. It would be truly glorious with some good chocolate, but all I have in the house are Nestle semisweet chocolate chips, and a couple generous pinches of salt made the sauce very, very tolerable. (Licking-the-bowl tolerable, of course.)

In a 2-cup measure, microwave 1/2 cup cream and 1/4 cup light corn syrup until it's steaming, then pour it over 4 ounces of chocolate chips (about 1/2 cup?) in a metal bowl. Whisk until the chocolate has melted. I thought it tasted kind of drab at this point so I added some salt and that perked it right up. It thickens as it cools.

I think I'll also make a cherry preserves and Grand Marnier topping for the bars. Choices.

Why does the-ubiquitous-coffee-shop-that-shall-not-be-named tease me with seasonal offerings and then snatch them away once I'm addicted? My drink of choice had become a steamed milk with peppermint syrup (which is not as cloyingly sweet as some of the others), but apparently that was a holiday flavor that they no longer offer. How now to get my peppermint fix?

Then I found these peppermint marshmallows by Tiny Trapeze at Whole Foods. Melting over the top of a mug of heated, sweetened milk, it satisfies my craving. I'm not a big marshmallow fan, but these are pillowy-soft with a nice bite of mint to cut the sweetness. Todd and I started fantasizing about peppermint s'mores or a nice chocolate fondue dipper.

But at $5.99 for a bag of about a dozen medium-sized marshmallows that my husband has been popping all day like potato chips, they're not long for this house and not likely to make another appearance soon. That would involve braving the forbidding land of the shops at Columbus Circle with a stroller. I'll have to decide if it's worth enduring the stern looks. It might be.

Why does the-ubiquitous-coffee-shop-that-shall-not-be-named tease me with seasonal offerings and then snatch them away once I'm addicted? My drink of choice had become a steamed milk with peppermint syrup (which is not as cloyingly sweet as some of the others), but apparently that was a holiday flavor that they no longer offer. How now to get my peppermint fix?

Then I found these peppermint marshmallows by Tiny Trapeze at Whole Foods. Melting over the top of a mug of heated, sweetened milk, it satisfies my craving. I'm not a big marshmallow fan, but these are pillowy-soft with a nice bite of mint to cut the sweetness. Todd and I started fantasizing about peppermint s'mores or a nice chocolate fondue dipper.

But at $5.99 for a bag of about a dozen medium-sized marshmallows that my husband has been popping all day like potato chips, they're not long for this house and not likely to make another appearance soon. That would involve braving the forbidding land of the shops at Columbus Circle with a stroller. I'll have to decide if it's worth enduring the stern looks. It might be.

When I first started cooking, which was at the beginning of my marriage almost 10 years ago, I had a few recipes that I had found online that I just rotated through. One was a breaded pork chop with tomato sauce. Another was a pasta dish similar to the one I made tonight, with spinach, onions, broth and beans. When I found myself in the middle of a blizzard with those very ingredients in the apartment, I realized it was something the baby might like (I already knew Todd liked it). August is a pretty good spinach eater, but he's still very wary of beans (which I think is OK at this point).

First I sauteed a diced onion, then kept cooking it over medium-low heat until it was soft and brown. Stirred some garlic in there for a minute or two, then added a little bit of vegetable stock, a rinsed, drained can of white beans and some thawed frozen chopped spinach (I prefer fresh baby spinach, but this is what I had). Seasoned with salt and pepper, then added cooked pasta wheels and let it sit on the heat for a few minutes to get everything working together. It used to be farfalle always, but I thought August would have an easier time with the wheels.

I was all up in arms because of a bad experience I just had with the baby at the Time Warner Center (apparently, Time Warner Center does not want your stinky little children grubbing up their pristine environment). Then I came home and comforted myself with some chocolate shortbread he and I made yesterday and realized there's benefits and drawbacks to my new life with August. I may not be welcome at a few of the places I used to frequent, but I now have an eager baking partner who loves to smear whatever we're making all over his already sweet little face.

The chocolate shortbread turned out a bit more crumbly than I think it was supposed to, which I'm sure was a result of less-than-accurate flour measuring. But this was sooo easy. And I'm thinking that most shortbread recipes (although not this one) would be good to bake with a baby who likes to taste the batter because they're eggless. August's desire to taste at every stage of the process makes me think I should try to track down pasteurized eggs rather than try to keep him away at the end of the process.

We creamed a stick of room-temperature butter with 1/2 cup sugar, 3/4 cup cocoa and 1/4 teaspoon of salt. Then we added an egg yolk and 1/2 teaspoon vanilla. Mix in 1 cup flour, then pat into a greased 9-inch round springform pan and bake in a 350 degree oven 25 minutes. Let cool, then cut into wedges. These weren't very sweet, but deeply chocolately and kind of salty. We didn't add the glaze because that'd make them kind of messy.

These might be a chocolate overdose with fondue, but I think regular shortbread (or biscotti or, my favorite, macaroons) would make a decadent fondue.

I've had a lot of success getting August to eat soups. There was the tofu-veggie soup, the chicken chili and also a minestrone I made with diced carrots, peas, ditalini, diced tomatoes from a can and onion. I stirred pesto into mine and August liked that, too. He doesn't really have any of the broth; it's just a good way to get the veggies soft enough and add a little flavor.

He also loves pasta, so I made mini shells and mixed in some roasted zucchini and peppers I had diced into tiny pieces and some ricotta and pesto. I tried giving it to him without the pesto and he definitely preferred it with.

I made some oven-baked risotto, which turned out sticky and gummy, but since August didn't know what he was missing he ate it up. I owe the poor boy some real risotto sometime, though. It had diced parsnips, carrots and peas in it, which he ate up, along with lots of grated Romano.

August and I made a gingerbread cake yesterday, ostesibly from The New American Cooking, and I think I need to call it my miracle cake. This is what happens when you don't gather all your ingredients ahead of time. I'm not going to record the actual recipe because I'm sure the results aren't reproducable.

First I had August measure out the flour. He's just over 1 year old, so really I had him hold the cup while I poured flour in, then he dumped it into the bowl, or rather in the general vicinity of the bowl. So (1) the flour wasn't measured accurately. Then I discovered I had no ground ginger for my GINGERbread cake, so I (2) subbed pumpkin pie spice for all the spices called for. Added the other dry ingredients, which August then mixed together with his hands and then spread all over the front of his shirt.

Then the wet ingredients. I found I only had 1/2 cup white sugar, so I (3) substituted brown for the rest. Only had 1/3 cup molasses when the recipe called for 1 cup, so (4) that's all I used. Mixed everything together, put it in a pan and then into the oven. I turned on the oven light and August and I watched, fully expecting the whole thing to explode or cave into a goey mess. I thought we were going to get something when bubbles started forming at the top. I thought at least the cake would have a metallic taste because there wasn't enough molasses to react with the baking soda.

I felt sure I must've made the baking gods mad, breaking all the rules about using the right ratios and following baking recipes exactly. But they must have a thing for little kids covered in flour, because the cake was pretty good, if a little bland. Definitely edible, and not the kitchen disaster I was expecting. Nice warm topped with vanilla ice cream and sprinkled with freshly grated nutmeg.

August and I made a gingerbread cake yesterday, ostesibly from The New American Cooking, and I think I need to call it my miracle cake. This is what happens when you don't gather all your ingredients ahead of time. I'm not going to record the actual recipe because I'm sure the results aren't reproducable.

First I had August measure out the flour. He's just over 1 year old, so really I had him hold the cup while I poured flour in, then he dumped it into the bowl, or rather in the general vicinity of the bowl. So (1) the flour wasn't measured accurately. Then I discovered I had no ground ginger for my GINGERbread cake, so I (2) subbed pumpkin pie spice for all the spices called for. Added the other dry ingredients, which August then mixed together with his hands and then spread all over the front of his shirt.

Then the wet ingredients. I found I only had 1/2 cup white sugar, so I (3) substituted brown for the rest. Only had 1/3 cup molasses when the recipe called for 1 cup, so (4) that's all I used. Mixed everything together, put it in a pan and then into the oven. I turned on the oven light and August and I watched, fully expecting the whole thing to explode or cave into a goey mess. I thought we were going to get something when bubbles started forming at the top. I thought at least the cake would have a metallic taste because there wasn't enough molasses to react with the baking soda.

I felt sure I must've made the baking gods mad, breaking all the rules about using the right ratios and following baking recipes exactly. But they must have a thing for little kids covered in flour, because the cake was pretty good, if a little bland. Definitely edible, and not the kitchen disaster I was expecting. Nice warm topped with vanilla ice cream and sprinkled with freshly grated nutmeg.