Beets Rock!

Tonight, I figured it out. I hadn't realized it before leafing through the August Gourmet (trying to find some great skillet-cooked potato recipe). I hadn't thought about my blogging muse before a colleague of mine asked earlier today. Naiveté. Youthful exuberance, perhaps. I came across a recipe for beet carpaccio with goat cheese and arugula and was instantly overjoyed by the fact that I had all three of those ingredients sitting in my fridge. Right then I knew it was a post.

I suppose when I spend $50 per Whole Foods trip I shouldn't be so surprised to find myself with ingredients, but at that moment all the planets had lined up and that beet carpaccio and I were destined to be together, for however short a time.

Local chevre, even local-er arugula, and golden beets. Man, it rocked. I don't even know where to start. Alabama, I've got to hand it to you. Y'all's got some good produce. The arugula from Jones Valley Urban Farm was the most assertive green I've ever eaten. Arugula is typically peppery, but this batch lit my mouth on fire (in a not unpleasant way). And the Belle Chevre goat cheese is available nationally at some specialty retailers. The effusive arugula heat matched the sharp chevre and the mild beets.

Tonight, I repurposed a drink shaker to make my salad dressing. perfect.

Quick Balsamic Dressing (serves 1)

1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil

2 1/2 teaspoons balsamic vinegar

1/8 teaspoon dried thyme leaves

1/8 teaspoon dried oregano

1/8 teaspoon dried rosemary (more like a heaping 1/4 fresh rosemary)

Shake and pour. Come on, who needs to buy salad dressing. Remove the strainer from the shaker when pouring. May as well get the herbs.

16 oz Queso Fresco, 8 Meals

Sometimes I talk myself out of buying exotic ingredients. Whether they're expensive (meyer lemons), difficult to locate (farro), or just plain scary (uni), I can come up with many reasons to avoid a potentially awesome dish.

I had talked myself out of making macaroni with cream and cheese, Gourmet Feb. 05, for some of the above reasons. It had a number of red-button items in the ingredient list; it called for over 1 pound of chili peppers (I'm scared of spicy things, though I do often like them), and two types of Mexican cheeses: queso fresco (a firm, crumbly cow's milk cheese, similar to a mild feta), and crema (like creme fraiche, but more viscous).

While the recipe was not on the top of my list for those reasons, I happened upon all of the ingredients in my trusty SpaHa Associated. After buying some, I realized I had forgotten the serrano chiles but decided the poblanos would be spicy enough. (I was right, though I've heard the serranos are not quite as aggressive as they could be)

The recipe was incredible, the balance between the chile heat and the mild, creamy cheese made it totally worth it. Roasting the chiles was another first experience for me; I probably could have charred the outsides a bit more, but I was afraid I'd overcook them. The chiles came out tender and gave the dish a significant cumulative spiciness, but nothing unbearable.

At the end of the meal I was left with 3/4 of the queso fresco wheel. For a day or so I considered remaking the macaroni, but then the Feb. 07 Gourmet came. And with it, another intriguing recipe containing about a half-pound of queso fresco: an Andean potato stew. The editors billed it as comfort food, and considering the extreme cold it sounded ideal.

The achiote seeds seemed like they'd be difficult, but I found them, surprise surprise, at the same supermarket in the spice section. And the bottle was about 25x larger than I needed, so I'll be set with achiote for a while. Let me know if any of y'all need to, say, color some American cheese or dye some textiles (other popular uses include Mayan warpaint)

Preparation was easy and the product was satisfying. I'd say I increased the total poundage of potatoes to about 5; with the original 3 1/2, the potato stew was somewhat paltry on the potatoes (though I may have stretched it into more meals than the recipe foresaw ...). For clarity, the additional potatoes were cubed, not mashed. The queso fresco muted the mild achiote heat and looked quite handsome topping the stew. The avocados were crucial.

All of that left me 4 oz queso. I ate 2 oz standing over the range waiting for the potatoes to boil, and sliced the rest and topped it with red wine vinegar (kind of gross; balsamic would have been better).

One wheel of queso fresco, 8 meals. (It might have been 10...)



Technorati Tags: Food, Cooking, Queso Fresco, Cheese

Gourmet's French Macaroons

I don't think I've ranted about my oven before. Since I moved in this past September, I hung a thermometer in there because it always seemed unreliable. We learned it was usually anywhere from 25 to 50 degrees off. And when the stars line up just right, as it turns out, the temperature can get up to 75 degrees hotter in practically no time at all. This was particularly infuriating when I was making these beautiful, delicate Raspberry Chocolate French Macaroons.

Before I go into the annoying details about the oven malfunctions, I want to start off by mentioning the difficulties I had making a meringue when I had never made one before. Interpreting the instructions was vexing. "Soft peaks" ok. I can deal with that, but "stiff" "glossy peaks" is much more subjective. How stiff is stiff? How glossy is the perfect gloss? Will it get glossier if I beat it for a little longer, or will it turn to butter. It didn't turn to butter, but I think I was a bit conservative on the whipping times.

The recipe also recommended cutting the corner of an unpleated plastic bag to create a makeshift pastry bag. I'd seen them, I'd read about the best way use them, but I had never actually used a pastry bag before. And I cut the corner a little too large (it was probably about 1/2-inch rather than 1/4).

Filling the buggers was no easy task either. The first time, I spooned it right in and got the batter everywhere. I'm not a fan of sticky things, and let me tell you, it was glue city. Learning from my mistake, I placed the empty paper bag in an empty cup and proceeded to spoon in the filling. Much cleaner. It made the whole thing a lot less stressful.

The meringue was ungainly, possibly because it was under-whipped, but had accepted that I would likely have malformed cookies. Combining the mildly-runny patter with my inexperience with pastry bags and wax paper. There was quite a bit of swearing andmore than a few ugly cookies (see photo), but I still had hope for the final product. The taste was all I cared about.

While I squeezed the future macaroons out, the oven warmed. The temperature was compensated for, so it was about 300 degrees when I put the first sheets in. I walked away for two minutes. Two. And I come back to find smoke billowing out the back of the oven. Open the door. Burnt cookies. 400 degrees. The dial still said 280 (ish). I was pissed. They weren't completely ruined, but they were close.

To make matters worse, since I used wax paper instead of the requested parchment, the burnt macaroons had fused to it. My wont of parchment wasn't for lack of trying, though. I went to four grocery stores, including Fairway, and hardly any of them even had wax paper. Leave it to me to start making cookies during the one time of year everybody makes them. I ate one or two with the paper still on them, just to see if people could notice. They would. Instead of throwing out the bunch, I called my baking-est aunt to see if she had any recommendations for loosing the meringues. She said exposing the sheets to extremes, either hot or cold, might help improve their situation.

Putting them in the freezer didn't help, so I put them on a wire cooling rack above a pot of simmering water. The wax paper (and the burnt bottoms) got full of steam and they came right off, leaving the inedible parts behind, still stuck to the paper. I was pleased.

As the cookies cooled, I made the ganache. Being a equipment-impared cook, I do not have a double boiler. To get around this, I would have sat a pot in a pot of simmering water, but the recipe clearly warned against this, so I tried to work on an alternative. My trusty cooling rack came to the rescue again, when I used it to put distance between the scorching water and the smooth, delicate chocolate. Worked like a charm.

The cookies were a hit. The raspberry-chocolate ganache was a brilliant foil to the mostly-bland cookie. For the second batch, I thought it might work well to make regular chocolate ganache and pair it with raspberry preserves. It wasn't bad but the added sugar from the preserves brought the sweetness level to nearly aching.

And I got to experience the joy of making 4 dozen cookies and eating four. At least everybody liked them (and I actually got to say, "Here's a cookie; but if you're going to rave, please rave quietly because there aren't enough for everyone." And that was worth it).

Technorati Tags: Food, Cookie, Baking, Chocolate
Special thanks to my old camera for the photos.

Buns of Steam

Ever since I first partook of the steamed pork buns at Momofuku—light, doughy and stuffed with perfectly tender Berkshire pork—they’ve been on my short craving list. After sampling similar wares at a few other Asian spots, I could safely say no one else could touch those buns.

Then, lo and behold, New York magazine raved about Tribeca newcomer Province, even going so far as to compare its mantou bread sandwiches to the steamy excellence at Momofuku. New York hasn’t steered me wrong yet, so we headed down to Tribeca for a “cheap date night” with high expectations.

Province (305 Church St., 212-925-1205) is easy to miss among the trendy cafes populating this stretch of Church, but while seated at the window we noticed plenty of intrigued looks on the faces of worker bees passing by. The sparse design is a bit IKEA meets diner, with unadorned cement floors and blond wood benches with odd, Swiss cheese-looking “privacy” walls. It was pretty empty on the Wednesday evening we visited, but the staff was friendly and efficient.

Not knowing how large the sandwiches would be, my friend ordered two—spicy pork ($3.75) and braised pork shoulder ($3.75)—and I chose the pork shoulder and side salad with ginger dressing. In short order, the buns arrived wrapped in wax paper and still steaming. Unlike Momofuku, Province’s buns are sprinkled with black sesame seeds and the mantou isn’t quite as light and doughy, but it is still slightly chewy and with one “déjà vu” bite I knew I’d found another craving. The pork shoulder, seasoned with just the right amount of sauce to avoid a mess, was a tender affair layered with thinly sliced pickled cucumbers. The spicy pork was a little perkier in taste with a dash of hoisin, but I preferred the sliced texture of the shoulder over the traditional pulled pork. One sandwich left me wanting a little more, so next time I will probably split a second or just indulge in two all to myself. At these prices, it’s not the worst thing I could do.

Oh yeah, and plan to head over to Province early--it closes at 7:30 pm.

Technorati Tags: Food, Asian Cuisine, NYC