redacted recipes

Items of Interest: The 2008 La Tartine Gourmande Calendar, Cranberry Left-Overs, Eat Christmas Cookies, and TasteBook

La Tartine Gourmande has a gorgeous new calendar for 2008. You can get a preview and find the link to purchase it here.

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AskMetaFilter comes up with ways to use a large amount of left-over cranberry sauce.

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Food Bogga is sponsoring Eat Christmas Cookies-- so get your cookies baked and submitted by December 17th!

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Fresh Approach Cooking has a great list of holiday gift ideas for food lovers, including a link to TasteBook, a make-it-yourself recipe book project. You can download recipes from online sources or add your own.

Mixed Peel

It's amazing how one little idea snowballs, isn't it? I decided to make mince pies this year for Christmas and decided that I wanted to reproduce the British-style mince I've eaten in London. So I went looking for appropriate recipes, all of which called for "mixed peel." So I knew mixed peel had to be candied citrus peel and I figured out that most people buy it ready-made, but it's thin on the ground here in Williamsburg, so I thought I'd just make my own. After some investigating I found some simple-looking instructions:

I used one grapefruit, one orange, one lime and two lemons. Getting the pith out of the grapefruit peel was pretty difficult and I must admit I did a pretty half-hearted job of it. I had better luck with the other fruits, and ended up with a nice pile of citrus strips.

The instructions said to simmer the strips in water until tender. This was a bit vague, as I really had no sense of what "tender" in this context meant. (I had also read that when making candied oranges you should leave the pith and blanch in boiling water three times to remove bitterness.) I compromised, letting the citrus peels simmer for about five minutes before removing them from the hot water.

Next up is the bit where you candy them by making a sugar syrup (one cup of water to one cup of sugar) and let them simmer, covered, in the syrup until they are translucent.

The instructions finished up with this step: "Drain, cool, and store in the refrigerator." Let me just say that this is also a bit vague. What they should have said was, "Using tongs, remove the peel and place on a sheet of parchment paper to cool so that you do not end up with a big sticky lump of candied peel in a colander. Once they are cool (and not so sticky), pop them into a clean jar and store in the refrigerator."

So there you have it... the first step in making my Christmas Mince all done.

The Artful Kitchen: Ronell of myfrenchkitchen

Lately I have been making repeated visits to  myfrenchkitchen to look enviously at Ronell's food art. The minute I saw her artwork, as well as the photos of her atelier, I conjured up an image of a kitchen filled with paintings and knew I'd be adding her to my mini-series, The Artful Kitchen. I sent Ronell an email explaining that I just knew her kitchen must be full of her wonderful paintings and asked her if she would let me profile her. Ronell replied promptly and explained that I had imagined incorrectly:

"My kitchen is a crazy place," she wrote. "I am a firm believer of 'out of sight, out of use', so everything in my kitchen is either hanging from a century old plough, attached to the ceiling, or on open shelves. Therefore I have no room for art on the walls. I have a whole shelf stacked only with old medicine and laboratory equipment that has been dug up in our garden from the eighteenth century, and I suppose that is my contribution to art in my kitchen. Except maybe for a large black board above the counter where I write some of my thoughts or a saying of someone else and do a sketch/drawing alongside – it depends on the season, on my mood, on a latest experience or just simply a philosophical impulse that hits me and changes weekly or monthly, again depending on the vibes of life."

She offered to take photos of her kitchen for me (which she is now displaying at myfrenchkitchen), and I eagerly accepted. As you can see here, Ronell's kitchen is a work of art in and of itself.

Ronell's apricot-colored walls provide a warm backdrop for her shelves of interesting and useful objects.

An old bell jar covers oranges, while a silver trophy holds a collection of dessert forks and knives. The mortar and pestle is sitting on an iron "doormat" adjacent to the stove, which Ronell uses as a safe place to set down hot pots and pans. The good luck horseshoe once belonged to a horse named "Skoene" (shoes) on a farm in Stellenbosch, where Ronell once lived.

Ronell discovered the old bottles in a cave which opens onto the back of her garden (she lives at the foot of a cliff and has three caves into the "mountain" on her property). In the early 1900’s, a doctor and his family lived in Ronell's house, using the house for his medical practice. Ronell writes, "We found literature and laboratory things, syringes (still sealed) and medicine bottles (still sealed), buried under a huge heap of planks..." and "...dusted them carefully because some still have the labels on the bottles, which are a bit fragile, but with careful handling, we could salvage them. And those that are ruined, are just beautiful too."

Ronell allows her house to reveal its history, and adds "...some walls are left unpainted because of original paintwork we’ve discovered and parts of our wooden floors have old paint splotches all over them, so it is just right that the old jars should also find their rightful place in the house."

Ronell's Samson juice extractor takes pride of place (she tries to drink a glass of extracted fruit and vegetable juice with herbs every day) next to a wooden tray filled with her ever expanding collection of silver and pewter. Ronell confides that she likes to have "little corners" in her kitchen with specific functions, so the silver items in the rustic wooden tray holds her coffee and tea things with mugs hanging to the ready above. The pretty bag holds sugar cubes in different colors and shapes, which Ronell buys from a store in Tours.

Ronell has always hung kitchen pots and pans and utensils from the ceiling. Years back she explained to her partner that she wanted some "farm instruments" to hang things from, and "...one day he showed up with this 'plough' (there may be a more descriptive word but I don't know what it is). He saw it next to the road, dumped somewhere and he just knew it was what I wanted. (He knows me too well..!) So he found the farmer and asked if could have it and then brought it home, cleaned it, treated it and attached it to my ceiling. It has traveled with us ever since and I love my plough."

The “backsplash” behind the sink was found in one of the caves. Ronell suspects it was probably intended to be some sort of fireplace decoration, but thought it made a better backsplash. The silver candelabrum was a wedding gift and Ronell sometimes lights the candles while she works in the kitchen. The box it is standing in front of is a wine rack turned onto its side, with the openings supplying a place to store candles, chalk for the blackboard, the blackboard brush and other tools Ronell uses at the sink.

FInally, of course, there is the blackboard Ronell originally wrote to me about. The item she claimed was the only thing resembling artwork in her kitchen--and that because she occasionally draws on it.

Ronell, I respectfully disagree with you. Your entire kitchen is a feast for the eyes. Thank you so much for sharing it with me and for patiently answering all of my pestering questions!

(Previously) The Artful Kitchen: Wary Meyers

Thanksgiving Leftovers: Turkey Soup

So there's no photo of my turkey soup because I'm tired and it's a slow cooker recipe and I have an image of my slow cooker and I've got a post-Thanksgiving cold and did I say I'm tired?

I've been cooking one thing or another for days. The nice folks at The Brooklyn Kitchen looked at me like I was nuts when I dropped in the day after Thanksgiving to buy a new pastry bag and explained I was baking cakes.

"Don't you have left-over pie?!" they asked.

I just shrugged and nodded and shuffled wearily off with my pastry bag. I had to get to the grocery store to buy oranges and cream cheese. I had cakes to make.

But back to the soup. After we've had our fill of turkey sandwiches we know it's time to strip the carcass and start the soup. To do this I enlist Jack to carve whatever meat is left off the bird. Then I take over and get my hands dirty-- literally-- as I pull as much meat from the bones as I can while discarding the skin. The meat goes into a ziplock bag and then into the freezer to be used for Turkey Chilaquiles later. Once the bones are pretty well stripped, or when I get tired, I prepare a base for turkey soup.

Soup Base

I place the turkey bones and carcass into my slow cooker along with some roughly chopped carrots, celery, onion, garlic and a few bay leaves. I add a small amount of salt, some poultry seasoning and whatever amount of broth is left from cooking the giblets, and then add enough water to cover the bones and vegetables. In the highly unlike event that I have any gravy left I add that too.

The slow cooker gets set on high until the liquid begins to simmer. Then I turn it down to low and leave it alone. This process usually gets started on a Saturday morning and I leave the soup cooking on low in the slow cooker until late afternoon when I remove as much of the meat from the bones as possible. To do this, place a colander into a large bowl and strain the soup. Lift the colander out and transfer the contents to a bowl, allowing them to cool until you can handle them without burning your fingers. Pour the broth back into the slow cooker, set on low.

Pull the meat from the bones, cutting it into small pieces where necessary, and place into a bowl. Cover tightly and refrigerate until you're ready to assemble the soup.

Add the larger bones back to the broth in the slow cooker, discarding the small bones and vegetables. Leave the broth and bones to cook on low overnight. 

Sunday morning place a colander lined with cheesecloth into a large bowl and strain the broth. Discard the bones and allow the broth to cool a little--then place the bowl in the refrigerator and leave it until all of the fat has solidified at the top. Remove the fat and transfer half of the broth to a container and put it in the freezer to use later. Put the other half of the broth back into the refrigerator.

Assembling the Soup
about an hour and a half

1 tablespoon of olive oil
2 carrots, peeled and sliced
2 stalks of celery, chopped
1 large onion, chopped
2 cloves of garlic, minced
Reserved turkey broth and meat
8 oz. fusilli (half a box)

Heat the olive oil in a large stock pot and saute the carrots, celery and onions over medium heat for about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and saute another minute or so. Add the reserved turkey broth and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer until the vegetables are starting to get tender-- about 50 minutes. Add the reserved turkey meat and bring back to a boil. Add the fusilli and simmer until the pasta is al dente.

Consider taking a photo and then lean listlessly back in chair.

You might have noticed...

I'm messing around with a new banner. I'm liking the apples a lot right now, after several not so successful attempts. I have absolutely no skill at this sort of thing, so of course I ended up with some really ludicrous-looking banners. Like:

First I tried to be clever with this giant fork. But it really is gigantic and just looks a bit threatening, no?

Then I tried these nice pears, but I wanted a true white background, which these do not have and decided it was just... odd-looking.

I don't know if I've settled on the apples, but they're staying up until something better comes along.

Sugar High Friday: Beta Carotene Harvest

I was really happy to see that this month's Sugar High Friday, hosted by definitely not martha is all about beta carotene. That is, sweets based upon autumn gourds and roots like pumpkin, squash, sweet potato, and of course, carrots.

I've been wanting an excuse to reinvent Bittersweet Orange Cake, which is really one of my absolute favorites, EVER. What could be nicer than a carrot cake with an orange marmalade twist? And why not make lady-like mini bundts and dress them up with some cream cheese frosting frou frous?

They may look lady-like, but these little beauties are packed with iron and vitamins A and C. Not to mention the, um, fiber from the raisins, carrots and orange peel.

Bittersweet Carrot Orange Cake
12 mini bundts (two 6-bundt pans)

3 c. flour
1 1/2 tsp. baking soda
1 1/2 tsp. baking powder
3/4 tsp. salt
2 large carrots, peeled and cut into 2 1/2 inch lengths
1 medium orange, cut into chunks, seeds removed
1 c. golden raisins
3/4 c. walnut pieces
12 tbsp. unsalted butter (at room temp)
1 1/2 c. sugar
1 tbsp. lemon zest
3 eggs (at room temp)
1 1/2 c. buttermilk (at room temp)

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Butter your baby bundt pans (2 6-bundt pans) thoroughly.

Sift together the flour, baking soda, baking powder and salt.

Using your food processor with the grater blade, shred the carrot pieces. Remove and set aside in a smal bowl.

Re-fit the regular blade into your processor and pulse orange chunks, walnuts and raisins together until chopped.

Cream together the butter, sugar, and lemon zest. Add the eggs, one at a time and scrape the bowl down after each addition.

Fold in the grated carrots and the orange mixture and don’t be too surprised when it looks curdled. This is normal.

Fold in the dry ingredients, alternating with the buttermilk.

Spoon the batter into the bundts, about 2/3 full.

Bake for about 40 - 45 minutes, or until a cake tester inserted into the middle comes out clean. Cool the cakes completely in the pans on a wire rack.

Pipe cream cheese frosting (below) decoratively onto the bundts and then sprinkle with orange zest.

Cream Cheese Frosting

4 oz cold cream cheese
2 tablespoon softened unsalted butter
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 - 2 cups powdered sugar, sifted after you measure it

Beat the cream cheese with the butter and vanilla until well-combined. Gradually add 1 cup of the powdered sugar, beating as you go. Now you can use it as-is, or contiinue to add sugar to taste.

Beef Stock: Dem Bones

This photo has been hidden to protect the unwary and faint of heart. It is badly composed and graphic in nature. Do not click here if you: 1) Possess any sort of artistic sensibility; 2) Eschew meat; 3) Consider greed and gluttony to be sins. You have been warned. If you click here we are not responsible.

You looked, didn't you? Okay, so it isn't the prettiest photo... but when you go to Peter Luger's for porterhouse steak, you do NOT leave the bones behind. No you don't. You take them home and wrap them tightly and put them in the freezer.

Then one Saturday morning you pull them out, along with some shortrib bones you'd saved a few weeks previously, and you stick them in the refirgerator to thaw. You make a run to the grocery store and buy a couple of oxtails and some soup bones.

Back at home you roast the soup bones and the oxtails on an oiled baking sheet for about 45 minutes. Then you put all of your bones into the crockpot (don't forget the porterhouse and the shortribs!) with some peppercorns and a few bay leaves, cover them with water and start them cooking at high. In the meantime, roughly chop some onions, carrots and celery (yes, that's mirepoix, people) and toss them with the fat in the roasting pan and brown in the oven. Add the browned mirepoix to the stock, along with some garlic, and once the slowcooker is simmering turn it to low and cook until Sunday. Seriously. Before you go to bed, make sure the bones are covered (add more water, if needed), set the timer for as long as it will go, and get some sleep.

In the morning make some coffee and then line a colander with cheese cloth and place it (the colander, not the coffee. You should be drinking the coffee) in a large bowl. Strain the stock through the cheesecloth and let it cool a little. Transfer to containers and let it sit in the refrigerator until all of the fat has solidified at the top. Remove the fat and then decide whether or not you want to clarify* the stock (if you're going to use it for clear soup).

Then put your beautiful stock in the freezer until you need it. Start dreaming about caramelized onions and French Onion Soup.

*To remove solid bits that are too small to strain out, combine 1/4 cup of cold water, 1 egg white, and 1 crushed egg shell. Add to the stock and bring to a boil. Remove from heat, let stand about five minutes and strain again through cheesecloth.

Bad Teeth and Lousy Food: The Mighty Yorkshire Pud

It wasn't all bad, you see. I've already mentioned fish and chips as an example of good grub that was available back in seventies Britain, but it wasn't necessary for me to leave the house in order to get enjoyable food. My mother was a pretty good cook. Yes, she worked within the limitations and prejudices of the time and yes, she tended to overcook vegetables just like everyone else back then, but there were certain things she cooked which I remember fondly. Some were odd little dishes she found in women's magazines (and I'll be posting about one of those soon) but most were British standards, such as Yorkshire pudding.

Yorkshire pudding is both easy to make and easy to screw up. My mother taught me that there were just a few key things you have to get absolutely right to ensure success. A successful Yorkshire pudding should be light, nicely risen, just a little moist on the base, well-browned and above all, tasty. A screwed-up Yorkshire pudding can be burnt, soggy, flat or jaundiced-looking, but it will always be completely inedible. Even a Yorkshire terrier will turn his nose up at a ruined Yorkshire.

Yesterday was Thanksgiving and Ann's three kids (plus one girlfriend) came round to be fed a fairly traditional Thanksgiving meal. Of course we had a big fat turkey. We had corn, mashed potatoes, stuffing, cranberry... but there was also a British interloper. I made six little Yorkshire puds, following mum's recipe (given below), and in spite of our temperamental and capricious oven they turned out pretty well. There they are in the picture above.

Mum's take on the perfect Yorkshire involves, frankly, witchcraft. She insists that it is vital that the batter is beaten with a wooden spoon; no other implement will give the same results. Further, it must be beaten for five wrist-cramping minutes. She swears that the final addition of a teaspoonful of warm water makes all the difference. I do not believe any of this. I'm a rationalist. Why on earth shouldn't the batter be beaten with a whisk? Such nonsense! On the other hand, I know my mother's Yorkshires are peerless. I used a wooden spoon. I beat the mixture for five minutes. I added that teaspoon of warm water. Don't mess with witchcraft.

Jack's Mum's Yorkshire Pudding

For four individual puds (You'll need a non-stick cooking tin similar to this):

1 egg
2 oz plain flour
5oz full milk
Pinch of salt
Lard, cooking fat or shortening such as Crisco

Mix the egg, sifted flour and salt thoroughly, and beat a little if you can (it will be very stiff). Gradually stir in half the milk, beating all the while. Add the remainder of the milk and beat for five minutes or as long as you can stand. Get plenty of air in there. If you do this right there will be no lumps. If you fail, get a nearby friend to chastise you and then put the mixture through a sieve. Shame on you.

Leave the mixture to stand for 1-2 hours.

Put a knob of the cooking fat into each dish of your Yorkshire tin. How much is a knob, you ask? Oh... about a rounded teaspoonful, I guess. Enough to cover the base of the dish when it melts. Put the tin into a HOT oven and leave it for around ten minutes, or until the fat is really hot. This is important. Your batter needs to sizzle when you pour it in.

Just before putting the batter in, beat that magic teaspoonful of warm water into the mix (and yes, you can probably leave this bit out, even though I lack the courage) Divide the mixture between the four pans. Each one should contain enough to comfortably cover the base and maybe a little bit over, but don't make it too deep or you'll end up with a sloppy bottom. And nobody likes a sloppy bottom, do they?

Bake for 15-20 minutes. Resist the urge to open the oven door to check on things until at least 15 minutes have passed otherwise you risk the collapsed soufflé effect. Your puds will be done when they have risen nicely and look medium-to-dark brown at the edges. Serve with any roast dinner and gravy. Nothing beats a good thick gravy over a Yorkshire.

(Previously) Bad Teeth and Lousy Food: The Perfect Chip

(Next) Bad Teeth and Lousy Food: Late Developments

Autumn Centerpiece

Michelle from Scribbit has started up the Winter Bazaar for people to submit crafty-homemade ideas based on a monthly theme. This month it's Thanksgiving or autumn. To see links to other entries, go here.

I always have a large bowl of produce sitting on my kitchen counter-- onions, butternut squash, apples, eggplants, lemons-- whatever I've stocked up on. I like having it handy in the kitchen, but sometimes it's so pretty I give in to the impractical temptation to move it to the sideboard in my living room (hey, this is New York, I don't have a dining room!). Okay, I admit it took no particular skill to arrange a bowl of produce but it looks nice and Thanksgiving is tomorrow and I'm out of time and it's completely recyclable. So there.

But just in case anyone is wondering, items in bowls is a bit of theme in my house. I keep a large orange bamboo bowl on my coffee table for used corks.

And I have a collection of stones in an old dough board sitting thoughtfully near a door so that people can trip on it whenever they like.

The Artful Kitchen: Wary Meyers

Joy of Cooking
Wary Meyers Decorative Arts

By now you guys know I'm a bit nutty about food and kitchen-related art, don't you? So how could I not be in love with these paintings? Wary Meyers Decorative Arts designs interiors, clothing and crests. They also paint. Please go and visit them.

There is something so charming about the unlikely juxtaposition of the subject matter and the ornate vintage frames... I tried to buy Joy of Cooking (above) but, alas, I was too late and the little pigs are on their way to a very lucky kitchen in Australia.

Bunny Playing With Carrots
Wary Meyers Decorative Arts

(Previously) The Artful Kitchen: Lisa Teague             

(Next) The Artful Kitchen: Ronell's myfrenchkitchen