Sometimes when I decide to print-out, tear out or otherwise keep a recipe to try, it’s because of the name. Or the ease of it, maybe. Or the fact that it might be unusual. Or where it came from even. Like a name chef, perhaps. In this case first it was the name. Portuguese? I know very little about Portuguese cuisine, let alone Portuguese baking, even though I’ve been to Portugal twice. But this time it was the photograph that had me intrigued. The recipe said tartlet, but it looked like a muffin. If you go over to Marie’s blog, The English Kitchen, you’ll see her photos look much like mine, although hers are more brown on top. But in this case when I read the recipe, I also read the ingredients. Hmmm. Puff pastry? With a custard thing in the middle. Sounded different. Interesting. So I tucked it away for some day when I needed just that something special for dessert.

(Pictured above, the tartlets just before baking.) I purchased the Pepperidge Farms puff pastry. And I checked the date on the box right there at the frozen food aisle – good until October 2010. Okay. Good. Following the instructions I defrosted the puff pastry overnight in the refrigerator, then unrolled each tri-fold piece of pastry and rolled it up in a tight roll from the short side. Then cut that into six pieces. I have silicone muffin tins, so it was very easy mushing the pieces of puff pastry into each muffin cup, with my fingers dampened with cold water. I ended up shaping them a bit in the palms of my hands first, then carefully placing each down into the muffin cup and then pushing it out and up the sides. Be careful you don’t get air bubbles underneath – if so, pull the circle away from one side and gently move it back into the right position. The shells went into the freezer while I made the filling.

(Here are the tartlets just out of the oven.) The filling: It was a bunch of egg yolks, heavy cream, grated lemon zest, cornstarch and a tiny bit of salt. That’s gently brought to a simmer, stirring constantly, until it’s about the texture of lemon curd. It ISN’T lemon curd, though, since it has no lemon juice in it. That custard eggy stuff is scooped into each puff pastry tart shell and baked at 500° (yikes, is that ever hot) for 15 minutes. And they’re done. Cool. Serve. I made a double batch (makes 12 – using the full box of puff pastry) because I needed more than six, but there’s no difference in the preparation whether you’re doing six or twelve.

Okay, now on to the taste. They’re incredibly rich – well, when you consider puff pastry (think butter, butter, butter) and the filling with egg yolks and cream. Okay. Rich. But oh so delicious. As I’m writing this I’ve eaten a half of ONE. Loved it. Most of my guests ate the rest, but we do still have a couple. I think they’re best warm or at room temp, so keep that in mind. And they’re not as good leftover, I’m sure (haven’t tried it yet) because the puff pastry will get a bit soggy. So just make as many as you’re certain you’ll eat. But make them you should for a special occasion.
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A year ago: White Batter Chocolate Chip Cookies
Two years ago: Watercress, Belgian Endive & Olive Salad

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The other day I wrote up a post that started out about cranberries, but ended up being a long story about how I lived in Rhode Island when I was about 14-17. In the process I did read a bunch of information about cranberries, and thought I’d share it.

• Cranberries are from a group of evergreen dwarf shrubs. The word derives from “craneberry,” from European settlers who thought the flower of the cranberry resembled the neck, head and bill of a crane.
• They grow in acidic bogs in the Northern Hemisphere.
• Cranberries are pollinated by honey bees and in any form we eat them, they contain good antioxidants.
• Henry Hall, an American Revolutionary war veteran, was credited as the first cranberry farmer on Cape Cod, about 1816. Wisconsin is now the leading producer of cranberries. Nowadays cranberry bogs are constructed with sand and the surface is laser leveled to provide perfectly even drainage. The bogs are frequently drained.
• A misconception is that the beds/bogs remain flooded throughout the year (like in the Ocean Spray commercials). Not so – they’re only flooded during harvest, or when the temps dip very low (the water protects them from completely freezing). If it does freeze, they drive trucks onto the ice to spread a thin layer of sand to control pests and rejuvenate the vines.
• White cranberry juice is made from fully mature cranberries, but done so before they attain the characteristic bright-red color.
• Fresh cranberries should be frozen in a home freezer for no longer than 9 months. Use the fruit directly without thawing.
• Canned cranberries are generally the below-grade fruit. The cream of the crop are the fresh bags we find in November & December.
• There was a scandal in 1959 when that year’s crop was tainted with traces of aminotriazole, an herbicide. The cranberry market collapsed. In years following, the cranberry industry introduced more year-round products (so they weren’t so dependent on a 2-month selling season) like mixed juices, and more currently dried cranberries.
• Ocean Spray (originally a cooperative with the A.D. Makepeace Company) has been in continuous production since the late 1800’s and is still the world’s largest grower of cranberries.

If this has been fascinating, you might want to look at the following:

University of Wisconsin cranberry website
Wikibooks: Cranberry
Wikipedia’s site
OceanSpray (main site)
OceanSpray’s most popular recipes

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Two years ago: Gulliver’s Creamed Corn

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This post started because I took some photos of cranberries just before I made my usual cranberry relish (with oranges and apples, plus ground ginger) just before Thanksgiving. Cranberries make such a pretty photo, don’t you think?

When I was a young teenager my parents and I moved to Newport, Rhode Island from our home in San Diego, California. My dad was in charge of the technical team (of about 8 families who all moved there) that built the first military computer for the Naval War College* there. A computer that was quite a jewel in the Navy’s crown, for performing strategic war games. It was a huge project, and the computer was housed in a building several stories high, about half the size of a city block. This was in 1955. How technology has changed since then, huh? We moved there for about 2 1/2 years, when I was 14. Having never lived on the East Coast, it was a big cultural change. I went from a junior high school here in California (8th grade), to being the youngster in a high school there (also 8th grade). I began wearing plaids. Wools. Heavy wool coats. Woolen socks. Galoshes. Yuk. Boots didn’t exist back then. We attended a Methodist church. We learned the nuances of clam chowder. We visited the first outlet stores from the woolen mills. I wore Daniel Green shoes. Fluffy petticoat lined skirts. We took lots of weekend trips, which didn’t excite me much back then, but now I realize how fun they really were. We went to Boston, into the hinterlands of Vermont, New Hampshire, Cape Cod, and to New York.

Perhaps I’ve told this story before, so pardon me if I repeat myself. My parents leased an apartment, sight unseen, by mail, a couple of months before we drove across the country. We took a nice driving vacation through the South en route. Across Texas. Biloxi. Key West. (No, Disney World wasn’t there at that time. Neither was Cape Canaveral.) Gettysburg. Washington, D.C. for just a day. Finances were a little tight, I think, so we stayed in motels, ate at very moderate restaurants. We did stay in New York City for one night too, and I got to see the Rockettes. We also ate dinner at an automat. I thought that was ever-so cool.

Finally we arrived in Newport. The apartment was one of two in a converted stable/carriage house on a palatial estate called Chastellux, along Newport’s Wellington Avenue of stately homes (built in 1854 by Richard Morris Hunt). The carriage house apartment was up a flight of steep stairs, had 2 bedrooms. Not a particularly attractive apartment, although it did have some character with a few nooks and crannies. No view, but it was a beautiful location. When it snowed, we were virtually captives because the elderly woman/landlady, Mrs. Lorillard Spencer**, who still lived in the palatial home didn’t want to pay for somebody to clear the interior road, although eventually she was forced to. I thought it was so fun to be snowed in. No school, etc. (That year there was a blizzard that left 5 feet of snow on the ground.) I befriended the older woman who was the landlady’s cook. She was from Sweden, and loved to bake. I remember visiting the cook on numerous occasions. She’d make a pot of tea and I’d help her cook. Well, mostly I watched, but we had a convivial conversation and I enjoyed listening to her stories about her homeland. The only thing I truly remember making with her was apple strudel. On the huge marble countertop in the palatial home’s massive kitchen island (back then palatial home kitchens did have islands). The landlady was not a happy person (as years have gone by I’ve realized that, certainly didn’t at the time). She was grouchy; she was a widow, I think, and lived there and in New York with just her and the cook. The cook went with her when she went to NYC. She did have a groundskeeper too, with the upkeep of several acres (probably 10, I’d guess). Occasionally the landlady would pop into the kitchen. And sometimes she didn’t like me even visiting the kitchen. Mostly because she thought if I was there, the cook wasn’t getting her job done as fast as she should. So I knew if there was any flak from the landlady, I was to leave immediately. And eventually the landlady said “no,” I couldn’t come visit the cook anymore. Sad for me.

I thought the big house, the carriage house, the stiff, unsmiling landlady were all very interesting. My parents didn’t. So promptly at 11 months renting, my dad wrote a letter informing the landlady that we’d be leaving in 30 days. We moved to a small 3 bedroom house closer to town. Where the roads were plowed. We lived there until my dad’s project was complete, then we moved back to our family home in San Diego, where I lived until I graduated from college.

I started out this post thinking I was going to write something about cranberries. All this was leading up to the fact that while we lived in Newport we did VISIT a cranberry bog. It think it was in Massachusetts. I found it fascinating – owned by Ocean Spray. So, tomorrow I will give you some info about cranberries. 🙂

In case you’re interested, I did a bit of online sleuthing:

* The [Naval War] college’s Center for Naval Warfare Studies is central to the Navy’s research efforts in maritime strategic thinking. One of its departments, War Gaming, introduced at Newport in 1887, allows students, joint and fleet commanders, and representatives of the Department of Defense and various governmental agencies to test operational simulations and advanced strategic concepts more than 60 times a year. Utilizing off-the-shelf technologies of video teleconferencing, computer simulation and World Wide Web capabilities, the Decision Support Center offers users an unparalleled selection of information gathering tools to support critical outcomes. . . .[from the Naval War College’s website]

In 1947, the NWC acquired an existing barracks building and converted it to a secondary war gaming facility, naming it Sims Hall . . . In 1957 Sims Hall became the primary center for the Naval War College’s war gaming department, serving as such until 1999. . .  [also from the Naval War College’s website]

** Mrs. Lorillard Spencer (Katherine Force Spencer) was the 2nd wife of Lorillard Spencer (married 12/7/1922). But they were very much “in” the New York City crowd. The 2nd wife apparently never had children. She was our landlady, I believe. Her sister was married to John Astor at one time, so the family was definitely connected. The 1st Spencer wife divorced her husband “on grounds of neglect and failure to provide,” according to the ancient newspaper clip I found online from the New York Times. Such interesting, wicked webs we weave.

A year ago: Chocolate Almond Saltine Toffee (oh, SO yummy)

Two years ago: New York Special Slices

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This is not a new recipe. I posted it here on my blog in 2007, because it’s a family favorite. Or maybe I should just say it’s one of my all-time favorites. You need to like chocolate (the dark spots you see above), walnuts (the brownish bits) and maraschino cherries (they’re not citron, but the bottled red dye maraschino cherries). I took a whole series of photos as I was making it this year, just because I could, and because I had time to fiddle with my tripod and the remote control for my DSLR camera.

With the exception of wrapping gifts, I’m pretty-much ready for Christmas. I have a few more gifts to buy, but it won’t take long to do that part. So now I can sit back and enjoy the rest of the month.

Here’s how you make Bishop’s Bread:

First you start with the add-ins: chocolate chips, walnuts (and I added a few pecans because I didn’t quite have 6 cups of walnuts in my freezer), and maraschino cherries. I wore plastic gloves to handle the cherries, although I buy them at Smart & Final and they’re already halved. How convenient! These go into a mammoth bowl (I made a 3x recipe) and are mixed around.

Then you add in the dry ingredients (well, not the sugar, as it goes in with the eggs). I mixed up all-purpose flour, baking powder and salt. I sifted that mixture over the bowl and used my gloved hand to mix up everything gently, but well. You particularly want flour on the cherries because they’re a wet ingredient and you don’t want the baked batter around the cherries to get soggy.

Then you add in the eggs and sugar, which have been mixed well. I did it in my stand mixer, but you could do it by hand with a whisk just as easily. I use a big spatula to stir the mixture up at this point. You don’t want any visible white flour spots. As hard as I try, I sometimes get some of those anyway. It won’t hurt the flavor – it just doesn’t look all that pretty. You can see a couple of little white spots in the picture below.

The batter is very thick. It’s hard to get it into the pans. I used purchased paper pans and spooned it into each pan to just under the height of the pans. Level them as best you can.

After 40 minutes these were done (baked at 325°). I set them on the grill/grates on my cooktop to cool. Then I cut one of them to make sure they turned out correctly – quality control, you know. <big grin>
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In my kitchen we have a large island. A REALLY huge island. It’s actually 9 feet square. In order to fit in all the appliances, a bar-stool seating area and sufficient storage, we kinda-sorta had to make the island that big. Perhaps some people who visit my kitchen think I’m crazy, but I love the large island. I do kitchen prep on two sides – the one I’m standing on here where I took the picture, and the other one just to the right (where I do more baking). Normally we have a large artificial plant (a big, wide and low white orchid) that sits just in front of that post (that holds up the 2nd floor of the house). When I’m doing food prep I can see the television off in the family room. (Dave was sitting there watching a football game, can you tell?)

But at Christmas time I use a ladder to crawl up on top of the island. I sit, cross-legged with my decorations around me and move, fiddle, and arrange whatever my current theme is. This year I decided to enhance colors in the beigy-brown and gold-streaked granite countertop. You can’t really see it but underneath all that stuff is a huge piece of gold tulle. Flecked with gold. It left jillions of random gold flecks all over the island and my slacks! Anyway, this year, from my Christmas boxes, I pulled out all the gold and white stuff, with accents of brown, to put in this display.

For many years I rewarded myself, on December 26th, with some new Christmas decor item at half price. I’ve added to it too, with little things here and there. I bought the sweeping white wooden reindeer in Colorado some years ago. He’s so stately. I found him in a clothing store, of all places, in Steamboat Springs. And he was for sale – he was part of the store’s displays, but I spotted him right off. So there’s your peek into my kitchen today.

Two years ago: Hot Buttered Rum (oh yea, good stuff, a recipe from a ski resort in Montana, I think it was . . . really, REALLY good stuff made with melted vanilla ice cream, then you add hot water – easy to make, and the concentrated mix keeps for months in the refrigerator!)

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If you’re a chocoholic, these little numbers will satisfy your craving. In actuality, they’re not as chocolate laden as some chocolate cookies could be, but these are just so tender and delicious. I’d had the recipe in my file for over a year, having read about it on somebody’s blog last Fall. Then in recent weeks a couple of other bloggers wrote about it, so I dug into my file and pulled out my copy. It’s from Dorie Greenspan’s book, Paris Sweets (not a cookbook I own). These cookies are EASY! They’re a slice and bake type. They start out at 1/2 inch thickness when you slice them, and they spread out some. They make the slight indentation naturally. Makes them look like I created it, but I didn’t. Your house will have the most lovely chocolate aroma. You can also freeze the rolled logs and slice some off when you need cookies. How easy is that? Here are the steps:

The dough (not mixed all that hard because the dough is fragile) looks and feels dry at this point, but it actually comes together well. I just poured the mixture out onto my cutting board to begin shaping them. The 5 ounces of chocolate you mix in need to be in small bits or shavings in order to make slicing easier. You divide this in half to make two rolls, each making about 12-14 slices.

There are the rolls wrapped in foil. Ready for the refrigerator (or freezer). You want to chill the dough at least an hour, or overnight.

There they are sliced and placed on the Silpat mat ready to bake. When you slice them, using a very thin, sharp knife, they may get a bit out of round, but the dough is relatively easy to push back into shape. I wasn’t super meticulous about this and the cookies came out just fine.

And here you can see them just out of the oven. They’re very fragile at this point, so you let them cool on the pan before removing them. Once cooled I put them in a Ziploc plastic bag and stuck them in the freezer. But then I’m happy to eat frozen cookies. But, did I tell you how heavenly the house smelled?
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A year ago: Apricot-Thyme Cookies (a slice and bake type also, not as sweet as some; different)
Two years ago: Cheese Fondue (my forever go-to recipe, one which was a regular on my Christmas Eve menu for years and years when our children were growing up . . . we’d sit in front of the fireplace, around the coffee table . . . I hope our children have fond memories of that)

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As you can see, we’re using our Spode Christmas china. I keep those dishes stored in a closet and they’re all part of the Christmas decoration boxes (too many to number), so when I haul out the decorations, those dishes are unboxed and begin their 30 days of use per year. And in those 30 days they’re used a lot – every day. Even for breakfast. We’ll be long gone and those dishes will live on in the home of one of our children, so why not use them every day? Place settings for 8.

I finally got the dining room table decorated. But for the last few days we haven’t been able to eat in the dining room because I had decorations strewn everywhere. We eat in the dining room most nights, except in the summer when we eat outside on our patio. The other night I really felt like cooking. Not some throw-together thing (yes, I do that too), but a nice meal. I’d purchased a rack of pork ribs at Costco. Did you know they only carry the long roasts in December? So if you want some, now’s the time to get them. They’re amazingly inexpensive – about $17 for 8 ribs. I cut the ribs into 4 small mini-roasts. Two ribs per “roast.” Froze 3 of them, and ate one. I prepared the ribs as a roast, and only when it was done did we slice it into two pieces, so each of us had a rib. As I’m writing this post, we had a big storm yesterday. It was gosh-darned cold, for us. The thermometer registered 39° on our patio at dinnertime. Our mountains are covered with snow. We had the family room fireplace going for many hours yesterday. Even though we had on winter types of clothing, seemed like we couldn’t quite keep warm, even with the thermostat turned up. Anyway, back to pork.

First I brined it. I have a jar of seasoned brining salt (not specifically for poultry, but for anything). So I soaked the roast in the brine (in a Ziploc plastic bag) in the refrigerator for about 5 hours. Drained it, allowed it to sit out for about half an hour, then seasoned it up. I turned to one of my barbecue cookbooks, The Barbecue Bible by Steven Raichlen, and after looking at numerous different seasoning mixes and rubs, I settled on the Memphis Rub. A bit of sugar, paprika, garlic powder, onion powder, dry mustard, celery salt, cayenne among other things. No herbs, just spices. There you can see the combo in the picture at left.

After drying off the roast with paper towels, I packed that rub all over the roast. Every place I could put it. I didn’t quite use all the rub, but it will keep for a month or so. You know, of course, that once spices are combined, they tend to lose their flavor much more quickly than if stored individually. That’s why a month or so and you need to use it up. Anyway, then I browned the roast in olive oil. Because of the sugar in the rub, it blackens quickly, so be careful of the heat level. You can see the photo right – the redness is from the rub, not from the inherent red color of the meat.

A meat thermometer went into the roast and into a 400° oven it went. Took about 15 minutes, I think. Maybe 20, for it to reach 150°. Once removed from the oven it rested, tented with foil, while I finished up the dinner. Next time I want to take it out at about 145° I think. Any bad bugs in the meat are zapped at 138°, so you’re perfectly safe at 145°. If you like your pork medium, then the 150 is just right.

The aioli was part of the risotto cakes I made to go with the pork. If you want that recipe, click over to my post about those.

The meat was tender, juicy and very tasty. I liked the aioli with it, although I don’t suppose that’s very traditional. The Memphis Rub was just right in its degree of heat. Raichlen suggested a range of heat (cayenne) and I chose the lesser amount. I didn’t want to overwhelm the nice roast with too much chile pepper heat – it would have masked the flavor.
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Two years ago: Chocolate Steamed Pudding

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Never have I made risotto just for the purpose of using the leftovers! This was a first. And rarely do we even HAVE leftover risotto on the rare occasions that I make it. But I adore the stuff. I remember oh-so-well the first time I had it – at a cooking class back in the 1980’s; it was champagne (and asparagus) risotto. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven, it was so good. Over the ensuing years I have made the risotto, using champagne, but we need to have an excuse to drink the rest of the bottle (do we ever need an excuse to drink champagne? what am I thinking?). My favorite technique was to serve risotto for guests, and I’d get THEM to stir it. Read the rest of this entry »

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This recipe may be coming your way just a few days too late. But here at my house I still had a whole wad of turkey left over and hadn’t done anything with it. I saw on somebody else’s blog that they’d made pot pie. What a thought! Hadn’t made it in years.

Back in my youth (my 20’s), turkey a la king was my go-to entree for entertaining. I even baked a turkey just so I could make it. With those little puff pastry shells. Some of you are probably turning your nose up in disdain. Guess that tells you how old I am! I had a hand-me-down copper chafing dish, from my mother. She’d rarely used it. I can’t say that I did either, but it did look pretty with the pile of turkey a la king in it. I gave it away years ago. And haven’t made turkey a la king since.

Really, I didn’t have a recipe for this. I just made it up as I went along, though I made mental notes about what I did. And turkey (or chicken) pot pie is quite versatile. If you don’t have mushrooms, that’s fine. Eliminate them. Same with the zucchini. It happened to be what I had on hand. Onions, carrots and celery, though, are a must. Because I didn’t feel like making a piecrust from scratch, I used Trader Joe’s canned (fresh) biscuits. They were pretty good, although like the Pillsbury counterpart, they don’t taste like much the next day. Plan on eating them up when they’re fresh baked. And you’ll want to bake them separately so the bottoms don’t get soggy in the creamed turkey mixture.

When I finished making the turkey mixture, I tasted. And tasted. Something was missing. More thyme. Finally I tried some lime juice. That was it. And fairly copious amounts of pepper and salt too. I was surprised how much it took to brighten up the flavor. So if you have some turkey lurking in your freezer, maybe this is the ticket. Here’s what I did with it: after serving up the two portions (top photo) I lined with plastic wrap a bunch of larger-sized ramekins. Poured the turkey mixture into them. Carefully folded over the plastic wrap to cover the turkey mixture. Refrigerated them overnight, then they went in the freezer. After they were completely frozen I removed the plastic-wrapped big coins, wrapped them in foil, then those went into large freezer-style plastic bags and into the freezer where they will reside until one night when I don’t feel like cooking. I’ll remove the plastic wrap and just plop them right into the ramekins. I ended up with servings for about 10 or 11. In the picture at right you can see the frozen “coins,” I call them. My DH thought the turkey pot pies were excellent, and he doesn’t say that lightly when it comes to turkey. Turkey is not his favorite thing, although he eats it. He tried to talk me into making a completely different meal for Thanksgiving (like a rib roast). I put the damper on that idea right then and there. We eat it only one time a year, for goodness’ sake!
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A year ago: Swiss Chard with Cranberries
Two years ago: Cauliflower Soup with Scallops

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Sometimes people make judgments about food when they haven’t tasted it. Like I have in some parts of the world. Like my daughter won’t eat mushrooms in any way shape or form. Sigh. And I don’t eat organ meats much anymore either (mostly because we know now how bad they are for us). But here I’m talking about the mingling of disparate foods. Like, let’s see, cheese on tapioca pudding. Or french fried broccoli on top of French fries. I’m making these up. Letting my mind drift into food oddities.

So it goes with this soup, except I learned about it at a cooking class. The bowl was put in front of me, and really I’ve rarely if ever turned down butternut squash soup. Even if it did have COOKIES on top. And it’s not as if I always like every recipe I taste at a cooking class, either. As many recipes as I’ve shared, I’ve not posted about an equal number. If this recipe had been in a magazine, I’d likely have flipped the page. I mean, honestly, I have about four good butternut squash recipes. Surely I don’t need another. Well, yes I did. This one. It is really, REALLY good. It’s different in a way – it’s a thinner style soup. More broth than thick squash, if you get my drift (and that’s because you strain out the solids). (Later note: the solids you strain out, though, are really good. Can be served as a side dish where butternut squash would be appropriate. It was really delicious.) And I thought the crumbled amaretti on top was just the icing on the cake. Well, the icing on the soup in actuality. The fillip of all. There’s not enough of the cookie to make the soup actually sweeter, even though the crumbs are sweet. You can barely see the little dollop of crème fraiche in the top right of the bowl.

The soup is not complicated – it has fresh butternut squash cubes, onion, fresh herbs, a tiny teaspoon of honey, a lot of chicken broth, and a cup of heavy cream. Oh, and some fresh squeezed orange juice. And I hope you have some rinds of Parmesan cheese stashed away in your freezer or refrigerator, right? Add one of those in the soup too (it’s discarded after cooking). The soup is only as good as the chicken stock you use, by the way. The teacher, Linda Steidel, made her own, but canned broth will work. I use Penzey’s broth (refrigerated concentrate), and have never been disappointed. I’m generous with the amount I use, which merely makes for a more flavorful base. The recipe indicates you need to whip the mascarpone. I don’t know that that step is necessary, but I’ve included it in the recipe. The squash solids are strained out of the soup, so it’s smooth. Take advantage of Costco’s big bags of cubed butternut squash – they don’t always have it. Tis’ the season for it, you know.
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One year ago: Chocolate Mousse in the Blender (easy, easy, but thinner than standard)
Two years ago: Aromatic Braised Lamb

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