Sass & Veracity

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. 

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.

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. 

Pumpkin Pecan Bread Pudding: Dessert or Breakfast?

Everyone has their rituals for special days -- whether they involve huge family gatherings, or quiet time scheduled for two, food has a tendency to permeate them all.  I know.  Big surprise.  With respect to Thanksgiving, my mother always insisted that we eat early -- 1pm.  I guess her mother did, so the tradition was passed along, allowing for the even more important tradition of getting all the leftovers out at about 7pm to begin the eating frenzy again.  You know, just in case someone didn't have turkey coming out their ears yet.

When I met my husband, my family's early eating time meant that we could eat with them -- (a dinner I made...) and then like complete lunatics the loving young people we were, head over to his family's house to eat again, usually at about 6pm.  We could barely move when we were finished, our midsections stretched beyond anything we'd imagined before, and swearing we wouldn't eat turkey for an entire year.  Funny how that works, isn't it? 

Another thing I inherited was the notion of a holiday breakfast -- but it wasn't from my family.

I was used to eating at midday, so the idea of a big breakfast not only made me want to crawl under a table to get away from even thinking of eating more food on such a calorie laden day, but cringe at the thought of trying to put a special breakfast on the table while I was in the middle of trying to pull off Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner.  When my husband told me not to worry, that he'd make breakfast, I wasn't soothed by his cheerful smile or the image of two of us doing completely different things in such a small space on such a busy day.

We've all aged, and in the years we've been married, we've established our own traditions.  A holiday breakfast seems to have stuck -- and it works, but only when I'm not also making the bulk of the holiday dinner and we're not eating until 7pm.  Plus, believe it or not, my husband is the turkey dude now.  Go figure.  That leaves me time to think of other things -- like breakfast.

Hence, the adoption of a recipe I found years ago when I wanted something I could make the night before, pop in the fridge, and then into the oven the next morning:  Fat Momma's French Toast.  Since that time, I've altered the recipe, of course, and it's a bit different each time I make it.  But I tried something truly different a few days ago, and we enjoyed "breakfast" for dinner, another thing we did about once a week when I was growing up.

Funny, though.  As we mulled over the first bites of my latest, we knew it was more of a dessert -- no longer French toast.  And with the day old pumpkin braid I had left over from the dinner rolls I made, my Pumpkin Pecan Bread Pudding was born.

Oh, my goodness.  If this is the epitome of a holiday breakfast, then sign me up and I'll forget the dinner.  It's truly amazing. 

Pumpkin Rosemary Dinner Rolls

With all the different types of bread recipes I've tried in the last year, I can say that I not only no longer cringe at the thought of tackling dough, but can decide five minutes before I lift Bertha from her spot in my kitchen that fresh bread it will be -- and tonight if I want -- even if it's the traditional version.  Big Bertha, my Kitchen Aid, definitely helps since I don't have to knead the dough for 10 minutes and couldn't even if I wanted to.  One or both of my arms have been royally screwed up for the last 25 years and when I do too much grasping or clenching, lifting or pruning, I live to regret it.  I used to be able to use Chopin as an excuse, but can't remember the last time I touched my piano keys for more than dusting.  *Sorry Mom.  How much did those lessons cost when you couldn't afford much else?*

My right arm has been singing with agony for two weeks now, thanks to a couple of hours choosing travertine for our home renovations.  How much does one of those 20x20" pieces weigh?  Definitely more than my arms want to deal with.

I'm quite thankful for my Bertha who is about 10 years old.  She's not sleek, but she's more than dependable, and when my arms are healthy, she doesn't mind that I enjoy getting my hands into a lump of silky dough.

The latest dough I experimented with was anything but silky.  It was sticky and not very cooperative, but so worth it.  Let's just say I was a bit more timely in getting the little  not so carved pumpkin off my porch after Halloween to bake and puree this year to create Pumpkin Rosemary Dinner Rolls.

Talk about pillowey bread-like wonderfulness?

Cherry Orange Almond Scones

Being at Lis' wedding this past weekend was an amazingly busy swirl of activity focused on obvious preparations, food, getting acquainted, food, 4am bed times, food, and then more food. 

Did I say food?

Not much else can be expected from a group of serious foodies, right?  I'm still in awe of the idea that people can meet through the Internet, converse for a year and a half in blog comments, cyber bake sessions, and more than a few phone calls in some cases, then meet -- it all seeming surrealistically normal.  Like I'd always known Lis, Helene and John.  The wedding ceremony was tear inducing (I'm a sucker for big guys who are so obviously devoted to their wives), the reception an artfully decorated evening on the shores of stormy Lake Erie, and the cake something I wish I still had a slice or two of hidden deep in the freezer so I might sneak it out when no one was looking and nibble on it, savoring.  Yes, very good times -- and wistful, surprisingly.  When you've spent so much time together for several days, and are so busy, once you're gone, you think of all the conversations you might have had -- questions you might have asked. 

But there's always next time, right?

In the meantime here's a bit of tea and scones served up on my wedding dishes.  I'll imagine that my no longer invisible friends are sitting across the table with me.  The rest of you can pull up a chair as well if you'd like a warm Cherry Orange Almond scone with Devonshire Cream and jam with a hot cup of Assam.

How do you like your tea?

Grape Foccacia: The Joy of Artisan Olive Oil Dough

I love bread.  It doesn't really matter which type of bread -- I love it.  There are some kinds I enjoy more than others, but when it comes to the hypnotic smell of yeast and the contrast of a chewy crumb encased in a crunchy dark golden crust, I'm hopeless.

Nothing compares to home made bread.  Most of my adult life has been so busy, that as much as I've always made time to cook, baking was pushed aside.  The time to knead and proof a lovely loaf never fit into my plans.  To be honest, it's also because I have no patience for much of anything, and what I do have, I've learned over years of practice.  When you spend hours each day in front of energetic middle school kids who'd rather be anywhere than sitting in an English class, having a window to gaze out and the will to slowly count until your class is focused builds one's abilities in the patience department.  Trust me.  Invariably, one of my students would shush the rest in high dramatic fashion and hiss, "She's counting..."  Calm would materialize and the lesson would resume.  Ahhh....some very good memories there.

So what does all of this have to do with today?  Well, considering that the Internet was effectively saturated with Peter Rinehart's pizza dough yesterday due to the very fine Daring Bakers, I thought I'd share what I've been working with lately.

                           

Daring Bakers: Lavash Crackers and Nopales Salsa

Today is quite different than the past many months that I've posted.  Today marks one of the very few times that I've baked a recipe for the Daring Bakers that isn't classified as a sweet.  And even more importantly?  It's the first gluten-free recipe as well.  This month's challenge of Lavash Crackers has been hosted by Natalie of Gluten A Go Go, and Shel of Musings From the Fishbowl.  The recipe is from Peter Reinhart's The Bread Baker's Apprentice. 

I definitely have that post for you today,  but thought I'd put a local type of spin on it.  Seriously local. 

Ever had nopales?  These Lavash Crackers with garlic, crushed red pepper flakes, and cumin can really take on a substantial salsa...

Bread: Bacon and 3-Cheese Mother Loaf

I'm wondering if this post begins where it just ended -- with a grilled cheese sandwich that if I wasn't so full of right now, would have me back in the kitchen putting together another.  In thinking about it though, I'm not sure if it was the apple smoked cheddar and sopressata, or the bread.

The bread is something all by itself.

The mother loaf to be sure.

It all began when...

Just kidding, but here's the quick version.  Remember those cute little muffins I baked in tiny terra cotta pots not too long ago?  No?  You can refresh your memory here... Well I've been keeping an eye on my cheese drawer so that I could give the bread recipe I first saw those cute little pots in because I've wanted to try it for so long.

My cheese drawer just happened to have quite the stash of Grafton Cheddar Reserve (my husband loves sharp cheddar), Cypress Grove Midnight Moon (this is the most amazing goat cheese to nibble on with wine...), and Parrano (which I often use instead of parmesan).  There was also some of that lovely Goat's Brie, but I decided right at the end that I'd save that for nibbles since the flavor is so mild.

I could have stopped there, but the recipe did mention that deli cuts of meat are good to add.  Except the few pieces I was able to scrounge up looked a bit dodgy, so why not bacon?

Little did I know...

Two Berry Muffin Bliss and a Story

It's still not quite 10am here, so grab a cup of coffee and a muffin.  If you're lucky, you have one that's as delicious as mine.  But I'll get to that later...

I finally decided to change my photo in the sidebar.  I started to think that maybe people didn't get it -- that it was never meant to be something serious considering the sarcastic human I am. 

When I started blogging, I didn't begin in Foodland.  I actually just needed to write, so started a blog that has nothing to do with food. *Can you even imagine?*  A good friend and I had made a commitment to begin a diet and exercise program, though, so it seemed like a separate blog (this one) would be perfect to discuss truly scintillating topics such as, "How to make tasty egg white omelets," or "Know your hamburger:  the hidden nutrients in America's favorite sandwich."  Well, not quite, but almost.

It was actually quite a challenge to write here because I was trying to do something that didn't feel like me. Not the cooking -- the writing.  I was used to just letting my opinions fly, and this didn't quite seem the place to do that since most of them have nothing to do with food.  Well, fifty percent, anyway.  Clearly, I've warmed up to the concept since then and have no trouble whatsoever being a complete smart ass when the occasion calls for it, or the weather is just right.

But what about the old photo?  It came about as the result of a post I did last year on having my hair cut after nearly a year had gone by.  It had gotten long and shaggy, and my roots were seriously in need of attention.  After years of having my hair done routinely every seven weeks ( I know.  High maintenance.), I had begun experimenting with dying my own hair, so not only was it long, it was lots of different shades -- grey included.  Finally, I had my hair done, and being the snark I am, decided to dig up some old celeb photos, and mimic them.  I am quite easily entertained.  I guess you had to be there...

So why did one of them end up here? *like this is news?*  That's the semi-practical aspect of the whole thing.  I wanted a small photo that I could use as an avatar here and there, and it was easy to cut the least corny one from the four -- or two, since I'm not Shelly Long, and could never come close to being Grace Kelly.  Plus, my crazy sister used to call her oldest daughter "Betty," even though her daughter's name isn't anything like Betty.  As in, "Come on, Betty.  We're going to be late to softball practice..."  Yes, my sister also has a snark streak a mile wide.  And then we all know about my childhood obsession with Betty Crocker, right?  And how I have that old cookbook my mother received as a blushing bride in the mid-Fifties?  It just seemed too perfect to have that corny photo of me on this blog in much the same way that a ficititious Betty Crocker's face appeared on a cookbook all those years.

   

Make sense?  Great!  Now watch it change.  Frequently.  In the meantime, how about a muffin?

I just happened to find Susan's Dos Berries Muffins at A Slice of Sueshe while making my rounds last week. I found Susan at Ben's What's Cooking? because she, unlike the complete slacker that I am, submitted them to Ben's bi-weekly I love baking event.  They looked so amazing, I was crazed compelled to make a special trip to the store to get berries so I could make them the next morning.  Although I chose blackberries and raspberries for mine because they were on sale, and used Greek yogurt (0% fat) instead of sour cream because my sour cream was (is always) moldy, I think the general idea is that two berries are better than one.  So true.  And the recipe?  Mmmm...totally qualifies as excellent because of my all important "not too sweet" factor.

My son and I enjoyed them warm from the oven with berries still steaming.  They're outstanding plain so you can enjoy the fresh tartness of the berries, or with butter slathered under a drizzle of honey on the second one, because we each had to sample two.

Pure bliss, and many thanks to Susan for the great recipe!  This one is going to the top of my ever expanding muffin list.   

Do you have a muffin recipe you think I'd enjoy?  Let me know!