Recently in Recipes & Cooking Category
We're 10 minutes away from the arrival of some friends, and August says, "Want pumpkin muffins." These were so easy to make a few days ago, and August and I had such a nice time making them, that I almost said, "OK, let's go make more." But then I pictured our friends arriving to find us covered in flour, egg all over the counter, the boy's mouth rimmed with the sugar he sneaked, and I said no. But during his nap I found 10 minutes to mix this up, so now we'll have an out-of-season snack this afternoon.
I think I decided to make pumpkin muffins in the middle of spring because I had a tub of cream cheese in the fridge and these muffins are an awesome cream-cheese-carrier. For 12 muffins, you mix 2/3 cup sugar, 1 egg, 3 tablespoons each water and oil, and 1/2 cup pumpkin. In another bowl, 1 cup flour (I do 2/3 white and 1/3 wheat), 1/2 teaspoon baking powder, 1/4 teaspoon each baking soda, cinnamon and salt, 1/8 teaspoon each ground cloves and nutmeg. Once I have them in the paper baking cups I top them with some walnuts (chopped or halves). Bake in 400 degree oven about 13 minutes.
We're 10 minutes away from the arrival of some friends, and August says, "Want pumpkin muffins." These were so easy to make a few days ago, and August and I had such a nice time making them, that I almost said, "OK, let's go make more." But then I pictured our friends arriving to find us covered in flour, egg all over the counter, the boy's mouth rimmed with the sugar he sneaked, and I said no. But during his nap I found 10 minutes to mix this up, so now we'll have an out-of-season snack this afternoon.
I think I decided to make pumpkin muffins in the middle of spring because I had a tub of cream cheese in the fridge and these muffins are an awesome cream-cheese-carrier. For 12 muffins, you mix 2/3 cup sugar, 1 egg, 3 tablespoons each water and oil, and 1/2 cup pumpkin. In another bowl, 1 cup flour (I do 2/3 white and 1/3 wheat), 1/2 teaspoon baking powder, 1/4 teaspoon each baking soda, cinnamon and salt, 1/8 teaspoon each ground cloves and nutmeg. Once I have them in the paper baking cups I top them with some walnuts (chopped or halves). Bake in 400 degree oven about 13 minutes.
I thought I had a great idea: Turn the pecan-raisin rolls that were getting a little dry into a breakfast bread-pudding type casserole. But I tried to fudge the recipe and I ended up with something that wasn't pretty, with curdled-looking custard and bread that was mushy in some place and completely crusty in others. It was just that the bread didn't absorb enough of the custard; it sat all night in the fridge, so I can't help but think the bread was just too dense and maybe not dried out enough. Also, I think scrambling the eggs a bit before you mix them in with the milk, which maybe should have been something higher fat than 1 percent.
The flavor was good, with just a couple teaspoons of brown sugar and a dash of cinnamon. We ate some of it. So I may try it again with a few tweaks, and maybe I'll have something.
Grab a glass of milk for this one. I always had a sense that chocolate chip cookies of a certain type were all the same. But the chocolate chip cookies August and I just made, from New American Cooking cookbook, were just over-the-top rich. Insanely, overwhelming rich. Making it possible for me to stop at one. Wise, even. Todd said he thought it might be the best chocolate chip cookie ever.
I've tried many, many chocolate chip cookie recipes, and I always fall in love with them. (Clearly not enough to be faithful, but still.) And I have rarely enjoyed a purchased chocolate chip cookie as much as the ones I make myself, regardless of the recipe I use. I do prefer the soft, chewy variety, with a good edge of salt and a reasonable amount of chocolate chips.
I made a half-recipe, 12 big cookies: Cream 1/2 cup softened butter with 6 tablespoons each white and brown sugar (other recipes I've used use all brown, and these were lighter in color and flavor), then add one egg and 1/2 teaspoon of vanilla. Mix in 1 1/4 cup flour, then a generous 1/4 teaspoon baking soda and a generous 1/4 teaspoon salt. I stirred in 6 ounces of chopped chocolate from an 8-ounce bar of Nestle Chocolatier chocolate (they had sent coupons for free samples, but I couldn't find the higher percentage, only the 53%, in our grocery store). I liked the big chunks, which when warm were smooth and rich pockets of melty chocolate. Yum.
I used a 1/4 cup measuring cup, scantly filled, to measure out the cookies, then baked them in a 350 degree oven for 18 minutes.
A side note for the grandmas: August loves to taste, so I'm wary of letting him help with the dough after the egg's been added. This time he tasted the sugar-butter mixture, then I gave him the spatula I had used for that and instructed him that was his and the dough would now be off-limits, because of the egg. It worked. When I was chopping the chocolate, he was eating almost to keep up with me, so I had to move away from him to finish the chopping. I left a few chunks behind, accidentally, and he, as though he was mimicking me, said, "You can have those little pieces on the table, August."
This soup is not really sweet, but the two main vegetables are parsnips and carrots, which did lend a vegetable sweetness that I found pleasant. Once the pasta soaked up a good portion of the broth, August and I were enjoying slick, soupy egg noodles dotted with pieces of chicken and veggies. This afternoon I'm adding rice to the rest of the soup base for a little variety.
It's not a real chicken soup recipe, because I don't start with a carcas. I started with one small finely diced onion, and sauteed it in oil until soft. Then I added a minced garlic clove, stirred it a little bit, then added 6 cups water and a heaping tablespoon of Better Than Bouillon. About 10 sliced baby carrots and 2 parsnips cut lengthwise in half and then in half-moons. The dark meat from a rotisserie chicken. Let that simmer for a while, about 30 minutes, then tasted it and added salt and pepper. At this point I put a lot of it into storage containers and refrigerated it, then added a couple handfuls of noodles to the rest. I found the broth got very concentrated, so I ended up adding water to taste. That stretches the soup even further.
Saturday was Todd's birthday, and I really wanted to come up with something that would make him pleased. August has decided that cupcakes and birthdays go hand in hand (every time we have cake we have to sing the birthday song), so I knew we needed some. And Todd likes toffee, so these cupcakes, from 125 Best Cupcake Recipes, were perfect. They're made with brown sugar and buttermilk and have pieces of chocolate with toffee bits throughout. Fortunately the cake's not too sweet; the toffee bits melt a bit for a burst of toasty, buttery sweetness. They're super-tender with a fine crumb, maybe from the buttermilk, and epitomize "cupcake" vs. "muffin."
Mix 1 cup flour with 1/2 teaspoon baking powder, 1/4 teaspoon baking soda and a pinch of salt. Then beat 3/4 cup packed brown sugar and 1/4 cup softened butter until well combined. Add 2 egg whites, 1 at a time, then alternately add the flour mixture (3 additions) and 2/3 cup buttermilk (2 additions). When it's smooth, mix in 2/3 cup toffee bits (I used a Lindt milk chocolate bar with toffee bits that I had chopped up). Bake in a 12-cup muffin tin in paper liners in a preheated 350 degree oven 20 to 25 minutes. Let cool for 10 minutes.
I made a whipped chocolate ganache for the frosting, but it was so intense that I prefered the cupcakes without. This would be good for a plain vanilla, though. It's from Baking Illustrated.
Heat 1/2 cup heavy cream to boiling, then pour over 4 ounces chopped chocolate or chocolate chips (I used Nestle Chocolatier and found the chocolate really benefitted from the richness of the cream) and stir until melted. Chill in fridge for 45 minutes, no more or less, then whip until fluffy. Frost right away, because if you re-refrigerate you end up with chocolate truffle filling. (Not a bad thing, but not what you're going for.)
I was on a roll last week, cooking up a storm. I wanted to be seasonal and soothing and make something Todd likes. This cauliflower, from All About Braising, was earthy and nutty and so essentially cauliflowery, with just the right hint of cabbage-ness. I tossed it with pasta and grated cheese over the top.
You start by sauteeing 1 1/2-inch florets in 2 tablespoons butter and 1 tablespoon olive oil until they're "speckled all over with nice bits of brown," about 8 minutes. Then you put in a couple tablespoons of rinsed capers and cook a bit more. Next, 1/2 cup water (the recipe calls for stock), salt and pepper, then simmer covered about 15 to 20 minutes, until the cauliflower is tender. If you're going to eat it as a side, you boil away the liquid, then add lemon and toasted breadcrumbs. I didn't boil down the liquid, but added some cooked penne, the breadcrumbs and some parmesan.
As a side note for those of you who are not squeamish, it breaks my heart when I finally coax August into putting something new and delicious into his mouth and, instead of squealing, "More! More!" he thrusts the chewed-up once-lovely food out of his wide-open mouth. Usually he aims for the plate, and I can't decide whether that's better or worse than his other options.
I was on a roll last week, cooking up a storm. I wanted to be seasonal and soothing and make something Todd likes. This cauliflower, from All About Braising, was earthy and nutty and so essentially cauliflowery, with just the right hint of cabbage-ness. I tossed it with pasta and grated cheese over the top.
You start by sauteeing 1 1/2-inch florets in 2 tablespoons butter and 1 tablespoon olive oil until they're "speckled all over with nice bits of brown," about 8 minutes. Then you put in a couple tablespoons of rinsed capers and cook a bit more. Next, 1/2 cup water (the recipe calls for stock), salt and pepper, then simmer covered about 15 to 20 minutes, until the cauliflower is tender. If you're going to eat it as a side, you boil away the liquid, then add lemon and toasted breadcrumbs. I didn't boil down the liquid, but added some cooked penne, the breadcrumbs and some parmesan.
As a side note for those of you who are not squeamish, it breaks my heart when I finally coax August into putting something new and delicious into his mouth and, instead of squealing, "More! More!" he thrusts the chewed-up once-lovely food out of his wide-open mouth. Usually he aims for the plate, and I can't decide whether that's better or worse than his other options.
Not that I have anything against Jacques Torres*, but I find myself completely unable to haul myself, my 2-year-old, and the stroller into his store to try these chocolate-covered Cheerios that I keep reading so much about. But then August sees the picture of them in New York magazine and starts squealing. Out come the chocolate chips, a quick zap in the microwave, a couple of fistfuls of Cheerios stirred in and we had it. The tedious part is fishing them out of the melted chocolate, which I did with a skewer while the boy stuffed 1 in his chocolate-smeared mouth for every 2 I laid out on my silpat. It is kind of tricky to melt chocolate in the microwave; I did it for 2 minutes on 50 percent power. The trick is to take them out far before they look finished, while they're still whole; those chips hold a lot of heat, which finishes the job.
But what a genius idea. They are remarkable. And I'm sure Torres' are even better, made as they are by a master chocolatier.
*Actually, I kind of do, but it's a small, personal thing; I was writing a short, short piece on fondue and wanted to get a recipe from him, but his people made so many demands about wording and about touting Torres' own chocolate that I couldn't use it - there simply wasn't enough room for all that verbiage and the recipe. Chocolate Bar was much more accommodating.
I've made two different types of pumpkin baked goods in the last couple of weeks, but I'm not sure that the pumpkin contributes much to either in the way of flavor. They were both nice and moist, though, and a very autumny shade of orange, and after a couple days they develop a nice bit of spice from cinnamon, allspice and family.
The cookies are like little round cakes, and August and I had a bit of adventure making them. We discovered we didn't have much flour and sugar, so we went for a half-batch. And August dumped half of my baking soda into the sugar, so that gave the final cookies a metallic taste. But I've made these before, using the correct proportions, and have been really happy with the results. This is the full-size recipe; should make between three dozen and four dozen cookies.
Mix 2 1/2 cups flour with 1 teaspoon each baking soda and baking powder, 2 teaspoons cinnamon, and 1/2 teaspoon each nutmeg, cloves and salt. Beat 1/2 cup softened butter with 1 1/2 cups sugar; add 1 cup pumpkin, 1 egg and 1 teaspoon vanilla and mix. Mix in dry ingredients, then drop tablespoons batter onto cookie sheet. Bake at 350 degrees for about 15 minutes. The recipe called for a drizzle of powdered sugar glaze, but I think a swipe of cream cheese frosting would be better. We ate them without any adornment, which was a little austere but less messy for a 2-year-old.
