Sass & Veracity

Chocolate Valentino Cake with Strawberry Banana Ice Cream

As the morning unfolds on this the day of the February Daring Baker's reveal, I'm proud to say I finished my challenge a few weeks ago, which could imply that this post was written and ready to auto publish at midnight.  But no.  I guess that with respect to me, it is possible to be too organized.  Best laid plans, right?

So here I am on my oldest son's thirtieth birthday (shhhhh.....) writing about chocolate cake and strawberry banana ice cream, which, now that I think of it is incredibly appropriate since the chocolate cake I'm thinking of is flourless and my son's food allergies and celiac's issues make it a perfect birthday cake.  Unfortunately, he's not supposed to eat dairy products, either, so the ice cream is a rude accompaniment, packed full of heavy cream and milk. But he doesn't care at this point, and a mother can't exactly tell her thirty-year-old how to live his life. Actually, she can, but I wouldn't be that mother, choosing instead to enjoy my son's company whenever I can and hoping that some day, he'll take his health issues seriously.

This February 2009 challenge is hosted by Wendy of WMPE's blog and Dharm of Dad ~ Baker & Chef who have chosen a Chocolate Valentino cake by Chef Wan; a Vanilla Ice Cream recipe from Dharm and a Vanilla Ice Cream recipe from Wendy as the challenge.

Clearly I chose to have some fun with my ice cream.  I couldn't resist the idea of coming up with flavors that remind me of a banana split.

Mama Mia! Greek Night In

There's a Greek bistro not too far from where I live called Apollonia.  It rates as one of the casual places I've enjoyed locally whose food has had me thinking about it long after I've eaten there.  Maybe it's because I don't eat Greek food very often, and so my weary taste buds long for something unique.  Or, it could be that the food is just plain delicious.

Valentine's week (and I have to call it that since my husband treated me to days of lovely surprises) one of my gifts was dinner at Apollonia.  Ohhh, the hummos and the dolmathakia.  The spanakopita and tyropita.  The souvlaki.

Sheer heaven.

Clearly, there was a Greek dinner in the works for us at home after this, and I decided that since the Academy Awards was rapidly approaching, I'd spend the day in the kitchen cooking and watching what my husband calls my "pre-game show" of all things Oscars:  gowns and botox lips, padded rumps and tatooed eyeliner.  You've got to love Hollywood at least once a year.

No sooner had I begun the prepping than my oldest son called to ask what we were doing.
"Watching the Oscars and eating Greek food.  Why?"  I asked.
"Because I'm coming over," he told me and with a quick "See Yah," he hung up leaving me with my list of what to chop when and Mama Mia running through my mind.  Not the movie -- the song.  Well, actually, both.

The connection?  My son is a huge ABBA fan and my husband and I are pretty sappy over the movie, too.  I know.  You can think what you will, but since I was actually around when ABBA's songs routinely blasted from my car radio, I can be sappy about them if I want.  Besides, who can resist the amazing cerulean water in the film and seriously hunky Pierce Brosnan belting out, "So when you're near me, darling can't you hear me...SOS...The love you gave me nothing else can save me SOS!" to an I want to look like that when I'm 60 Meryl Streep.

Ahhhh....

I see a Greek island vacation in my future. 

But in the meantime, I'll settle for homemade hummus, Briami, and Chicken Souvlaki from Peter of Kalofagas.  With ABBA, of course, and this does involve a bit of dancing barefoot without warning.

I've been singing ABBA tunes all day every day for weeks.  In the car, at the grocery store...

Mama Mia.  Here we go again...

I just need a sailboat.

Gourmet's Rye Walnut Rolls

I don't know that I've had walnuts in anything that I didn't like.  I just like walnuts.  I like the bite on the side of my tongue that doesn't come when I chew into a pecan which is much more sweet.

Walnuts in cookies, salad, and pasta get my full, undivided attention, so it seems reasonable that I'd like them in bread, too.  And what a surprise that the bread isn't sweet, or filled with raisins and flavored with cinnamon.  But I wouldn't complain if that's what was put in front of me.  How could I?

No, it's a savory bread, and one filled with onions, too.  As I worked my way through this recipe, I wondered about how thyme, or a bit of cheese might taste.

And bacon.  Life is too short to not include a bit of pork fat when one can.

But I resisted, so it looks like I just may have to revisit this recipe, the third of four I've chosen to bake this month and featured in Gourmet.  I've enjoyed making bread once a week so far this month and am considering keeping up with it since the possibilities are endless and I have so much to learn.

I love possibilities.  They're just hovering out there, waiting for someone to take notice.

Unfortunately, it takes some motivation, doesn't it?  And my motivation failed me after I purchased the rye flour I was happy to have in my pantry for these lovely rolls.  It was to have been used in a starter that I promised to make and never did.

I'll get around to that one of these days, but in the meantime, it was nice to have the rye flour just waiting.

This recipe for Rye Walnut Rolls is the third of four for the month of February as part of "Let Us Eat Bread," featuring recipes from Gourmet's "Roll With It."  Our bread baking group includes:  Judy of No Fear Entertaining, Courtney of Coco Cooks, Andrea of Andrea's Recipes, Claire of The Barefoot Kitchen, and our fearless leader, Sandy of At the Baker's Bench. 

Pulled Pork Sandwiches

It's the busy season for my husband so that means dinner is later with each passing week.  There is no complaint from me because I've gotten used to it over the last many years -- and I'm not the one working late. 

The later schedule allows me to think a bit longer about dinner if I've procrastinated, or, as in this case, have something ready that takes almost no time to prepare because it's a) classified as something that can be made ahead of time -- as in the day before; or b) it's left-over.  You're welcome to choose whichever version you'd like, but I'm going with choice a because that's what I did.

Pork shoulder was on sale for some ridiculously low price if i purchased two roasts wrapped together, so I thought, what the heck.  Each weighed about 4-5 lbs.  I separated them when I got home, freezing them in ziplock bags knowing that I'd find something that struck my fancy. 

My fancy ended up being Pulled-Pork Sandwiches but I had to roast the pork to begin with.  Now you could enjoy the slowly roasted pork for dinner one night, then the pulled-pork sandwiches the next, but my roast wasn't all that big and I know that had we eaten it after it came out of the oven, there wouldn't have been enough for the sandwiches.

This recipe caught my eye because of the capers.  I can't get enough of those sun-dried and brined flower buds that grow in the Mediterranean region.  In fact, I no longer rinse them as most recipes advise, because I enjoy the tang the brine adds to whatever it is I'm cooking.  There's never enough brine to lose the unique flavor of the capers no matter what I'm making -- especially with this recipe.

Ginger Sandwich Cookies with Lemon Cream Filling

Dear Nick Malgieri,

I saw your Ginger Sandwich Cookies filled with lemon cream in a recent issue of Food & Wine magazine and decided I'd give them a try.  Although gingersnaps have never been and will never be a cookie I find myself craving, the lemon filling did catch my attention and I thought that with the ginger, the flavor could be exceptional.

Although that did not disappoint, the molasses, on the other hand, gave me pause because the last time I made cookies that had molasses in them, the results were less than appealing until I bent them into submission after much trial and error.

Now I know I'm far from perfect on most days, but I have had a modest amount of experience cooking and baking with great success -- thankfully more times than not.  I also use excellent equipment and so cannot blame poor result on either of those factors.

What I'm left with is a question, and I'm asking it of you since this is your recipe and the photograph chosen to illustrate the intended results looks far different than mine -- especially my first batch. 

• When baking cookies with molasses, is there something I just don't understand?  What causes them to spread so?  I know sugar in general causes that, and when using molasses, a smaller quantity is needed, as in this recipe which calls for only 1/4 cup.  Could it be the brand of molasses?  I use Grandma's which is just about the only kind I've ever used, and the jar I used for this batch was opened recently. 
• Although keeping a very close eye on the Ginger Sandwich cookies during the required bake time, I realized I needed to remove them from the oven only half way through the expected 20-minute baking time, and even then, the cookies were far too done.  Actually, burnt.
• I prefer to use convection settings for everything except for recipes with a high quantity of egg, so am used to reducing the heat and cooking time to compensate for that choice. However, because of the previous results, I chose not to use convection heat for this recipe.  On the second batch, again, with only 7 minutes of the baking time elapsed, I had to remove the cookies.

Mr. Malgieri, I know that often, baking is an adventure, and I accept that most of the time.  Because I'm used to reading recipes, I can usually spot one that I think could be problematic, and with this recipe, the cooking time did get my attention.  Cookies rarely bake that long.  Nevertheless, I proceeded like the trusting home cook I am.

I will say your ginger cookies are lovely tasting with a nice bite -- chewy, with a pleasant tartness from the lemon cream which blends well with the overall sweetness.  Very, very nice.  I just wish I'd done them justice.  So I'm curious and would enjoy trying these again, but detest wasting food so need some direction.

Did Food & Wine misprint the recipe?  Or am I just someone who should step away from the molasses?

With the utmost respect,
Kelly

p.s.  They stack pretty good though! 

Gourmet's Orange Pumpkin Cloverleafs

We live on a hill.  Some may not call it that, but I do, and depending on which direction you approach our hill, it resembles something quite large with very steep roads leading to it, making it a challenge if one happens to be stuck behind a truck, a school bus, or someone who has passed a driver's test but hasn't yet figured out that the gas pedal is what makes the car proceed in a forward motion if it's properly in gear.

But I digress.

Living on this hill provides us a view of the Pacific from one window and from two others, the skyline of the area near downtown and the mountains in the eastern part of the county.  Actually, the view of the Pacific is about 16 inches if I strain, sneaking out my ruler just to make sure, and the other more a craning of my neck around my neighbor's Texas Cherry Brush hedge that is more like a jungle.  On days like today when the weather is not exactly as most expect it to be, I look at both horizons and notice the dark grey upper sky heavy with rain clouds.  The sun is struggling to shine somewhere East casting the mountains in varying shades of grey and adding to the ominous look of the storm clouds.  The Pacific is indiscernible, as grey as the sky. 

I love rainy days. 

So it seems appropriate that I bring you something that is about as close to packaged sunshine as I can find.  If you're lucky enough to get one right from the oven, the warmth speaks for itself.

Demi-glace: A Mother of a Sauce

At some point when you've got as much time as I do on your hands, you get around to cooking something that caught your eye years ago when time was quite the precious commodity.  But years have gone by since then and time does a good job of layering all the possibilities life tosses in our path, so the urge was buried until I saw the December issue of Saveur last year showcasing traditional meat sauces such as charcutiere and bordelaise -- sauces I've made before, but with purchased demi-glace.

There was no reason not to try the demi-glace recipe since time seemed to be the biggest requirement, and it wasn't even focused time.  Thankfully.  How hard could it be to roast a few pounds of bones and then simmer them for a few hours?

Twenty hours, to be exact, and that's just the simmering time.

 

It's not often that I see meat bones in the case at the grocery store, so when I saw a couple of packages, I tossed them in the cart wondering just how many I'd need to make my own demi-glace.  A second glance at the article after I got home informed me I'd need about ten, so I put the bones in the freezer knowing it may be a while before I saw more.

You're thinking I should have gone to the butcher, right?  Yes, I believe I know where one is thanks to a very good friend who purchases lovely cuts of meat there for special occasions.  I still haven't been there myself, however, so the idea of actually picking up the telephone to call and inquire about whether they'd have some bones for me at some point in the foreseeable future appeared far more organized than my serendipitous self seems to be these days.

It's a very sad state of affairs.

But I did happen on a few more packages of beef bones in the next few weeks, so decided that I'd give the recipe a go.

Although there seems to be a bit of variation on how one goes about making demi-glace, essentially, it's made from roasting bones with a small amount of vegetable and tomato, then slowly simmering the bones in a good quantity of water for hours before straining, then reducing.  Some versions require a Sauce Espagnole to be made first, which requires a thickener such as flour, and then that sauce blended with beef stock before reducing.

In consulting Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child, there is no simple recipe for demi-glace.  Instead, here is what can be found:

"The classical French brown sauce starts out with a long-simmered brown meat stock that goes into the making of an equally long-simmered, lightly thickened sauce base called an espagnole.  The espagnole is simmered and skimmed for several hours more with additional stock and flavorings until it finally develops into the traditional mother of the brown sauces, demi-glace. But as we are concerned with less formal cooking, we shall discuss it no further." (pg. 66, Vol. I)

Evidently, to some, however,the addition of the thickener is sacriledge and far be it from me to sway from a purist perspective on this.  Besides, making an espagnole first would require additional ingredients and steps -- not something I was interested in. No, I'll save that one for another time.

To make the Saveur recipe, I'd need:

• a very large roasting pan;
• a very large stock pot;
• a chinois; and/or
• a fine meshed strainer.

And I'd need to not mind the scent of roasting beef permeating my house for two days.

Upside Down Cutie Cake

With nearly two years writing here, it's only been recently that I've begun to discover other foodies in and around the San Diego area.  Although I've found several, it still amazes me when a new one pops up and I add it to my mental list of, I should create a section just for us in my sidebar.  Now, I'm sure there are lots of reasons we add a new link to our sidebars -- or in some cases, a special page for links, but for me, it's more about keeping it where I can see it.  Then it's easier for me to visit.

You're laughing, right?  Because I know lots of people use readers, and I have a few myself.  But for some reason, I've never gotten into the routine of actually using it and so I find myself flitting from one place to another without a care in the world.

It's shameful, this gadabout lack of organization, but lovely things do come from it.  I'll call it serendipitous that I happened onto Food Blogga's recipe for Clementine Upside Down Cake the other day.  I couldn't pass up the opportunity to try it since I've had a box of "Cuties" for longer than I'd like to admit, thinking they'd end up in marmalade. 

Sure, like I'd make marmalade. Well, I thought I might, tempted by all the amazing citrus in the markets right now and a bundle of fresh vanilla beans I purchased not too long ago.

My grandmother used to make pineapple upside down cake in her black cast iron skillet, and it's been years since I had a taste of that.  But I've always been more fond of tangerines than pineapple -- especially canned pineapple, so the idea of sweet tangerine flavor soaked into a light cake sounded perfect.

Looks like the marmalade will have to wait a bit longer, because I just had to make this cake.

Mexican...Erm...Welsh Rarebit

When it comes to cheese, I guess I tend to lean toward the white side of things more so than the yellow or orange, so that means that mozzarella, feta, goat, and provolone are what I reach for first when I'm standing in front of the deli case wondering what I should throw in the cart.  And it doesn't stop there, because machego, iberico, St. Andre, brie, and camembert are also favorites.

This doesn't mean I don't care for "orange" cheese, however, and I do have to think of the resident hunkster who absolutely loves extra sharp cheddar.  Loves.  It.  Finds it in the deli drawer, looks at me and asks, "Are you saving this for anything?" and then takes a slice here and a nibble there -- especially when he comes home from work and dinner isn't quite ready.

Me?  I only like it melted.  Melted in grilled cheese sandwiches, or on burgers.  Oozing between layers of pasta or in enchiladas.  Or Welsh Rabbit.

Welsh what?  Wait -- cheese with rabbit?  Hmmm...

No, no rabbit.  Welsh Rarebit -- or in this case, Mexican Rarebit.

Evidently, both names are correct -- rarebit or rabbit -- and if you're one whose interests lean toward the history of food, then there's much to read about his particular dish.  To me, it's yet another dish that is relatively quick, comforting, and fairly inexpensive -- yet packed with incredible flavor.

Make a salad, pour a beer -- but save one for the dish, and you're ready for another Friday night meal in.  Don't forget your napkin.

Cracked-Wheat Topknots

When it comes to baking bread, I'm still in the semi-novice stage.  Sure, I've baked many a loaf in my life, and some far better than others, but I've got a comfort zone that's quite different than the wild and frequently erratic boundaries I work within when it comes to cooking in general. 

No, bread is still somewhat of a novelty.

When I make bread, it's an occasion in and of itself.  And although I'm getting better at actually accomplishing other things when I've got a batch going, I'll never quite get to the point where I won't worry about whether I'll forget the dough in my oven proofer after I've left to run some errands, or sitting patiently in a strange place on the floor, no longer basking in the warmth cast by the winter sunshine. Or just wondering why there is so much difference between one recipe and the next when it comes to yeast.

Many expect the liquid we mix the yeast with to be a specific temperature -- usually between 105-115 degrees F -- and we're admonished that if the yeast doesn't bubble and foam happily in the little bowl, then we're to toss it and begin again.

Other recipes tell us to just throw everything in a mixing bowl at one time, not worrying about the temperature or a waiting time -- and never a threat of possibly needing to begin again or risk less than puffy gluten-packed wonderfulness.

But when I get that first whiff of bread in the oven, there's no way I can take it for granted, and as much as I'd like to admit that we'll use it for sandwiches during the week, or that I'll let it cool completely, then freeze it like a more organized and purposeful cook than I might be, I know we'll simply enjoy it.  We'll enjoy it like fresh cookies hot from the oven, or a sweet pie baked for a special occasion. 

The guys will look at it, then at me, then back at the bread and ask, with hope and longing in their eyes, "Is this for eating?"

 

Clearly, we need to get a grip!  So when Sandy of At the Baker's Bench posed an offer to our recent holiday cookie-baking group to join her in baking bread throughout February, I thought absolutely, and "Let Us Bake Bread" was launched.  Once a week for a month I'll post one of the recipes featured in Gourmet's article, "Roll with it" in this month's issue.  I decided to get it rolling with Cracked-Wheat Topknots because I'm a fan of crunchiness in bread regardless of whether it's due to nuts or whole grains, and I just happened to have some bulgar in my pantry just waiting for a place to get happy.

In case you've forgotten who my cookie conspirators were, I'm joined in this yeasty frivolity by Judy of No Fear Entertaining, Courtney of Coco Cooks, Andrea of Andrea's Recipes, and Claire of The Barefoot Kitchen.