Veggie Challenge #13: Baby Artichokes

Ahem! I said artichokes, not hollandaise sauce. I'm with you though, when I think artichoke, I think steamed with yummy lemon butter dipping sauce. Well, I will be the first to tell you that I may be a changed woman after having baby artichokes roasted.

The beauty of baby artichokes is that the "choke" - or the hairy middle part that you cannot eat - is not yet developed. You can literally trim these and eat almost the whole thing. Now, I read conflicting reports - one saying that baby artichokes are a different breed than their bigger cousins and another saying that they are just less mature versions of their bigger brother. I did some looking and I cannot find a definite answer either way for you, but would love to know if someone out there knows.  (Let me know!)

Trimming these puppies is the important part. You want to slice off the top inch or so with a serrated knife to get rid of the sharp, dark green leaves. Peel back the remaining leaves to expose the light green inside leaves. Remove the bottom quarter-inch of the stem and then peel it using a paring knife. Slice the artichokes lengthwise and immediately toss into a lemon water bath to prevent browning - which happens fast!

Toss trimmed artichokes into a pot of boiling water and blanch for 1-2 minutes. These baby chokes are tender enough that this step is optional, but they are certainly ready faster this way as they require less roasting.

I tossed the artichokes with a little bit of good olive oil, fresh garlic, salt and pepper and roasted in a 400F oven for 20 minutes. (Can't WAIT to grill these babies come summer!) They will take well to flavor, so don't be afraid to get a little crazy!

More Carbs: Ginger Coconut Cranberry Granola Bread

Carbs are the wind beneath my wings.

One last bread entry. For now...

On a recent weekend, Gladiola (Boy's sister) and I got together to make bread. Off to Debra's Natural Market we went to pick up some odds and ends to include in the recipe. (Ahh, heaven on earth!) The beauty of this recipe - that I have used many times before - is that you can substitute just about anything into it. It calls for granola with fruit in it, raisins, and another dried fruit of your choice.

This is what we used. Are you ready for this??

Granola: "Not So Sweet" Maple Granola
Raisins: Organic Dried Cranberries
Dried Fruit of Choice: Organic Dried Ginger, lightly sugared with Organic Cane Sugar
Wild Card (Because we are risk-takers like that!): Unsweetened Organic Coconut Flakes

I had never tried sweetened dried ginger. Gladiola urged me to try it. It took only a small nibble and I was ready to spit it out all over the kitchen island. Ginger is an amazing flavor and I love cooking with it fresh, but dried is a whole new ballgame. Imagine the strong flavor essentially condensed down to one right-hook-to-the-face bite. The result is not so good for nibbling on alone, but a great accent flavor for an otherwise tame-flavored loaf of bread. I was highly skeptical when Gladiola suggested it, but I will admit that I am very pleased I let her talk me into it.

We also decided to bake it without using a loaf pan. The result was a beautiful, super-fancy looking round loaf. It almost looks like we knew what we were doing!

Random: Homemade Vanilla Extract

I respect the five food groups, but I have some opinions of my own on some amendments. Three to be exact. Chocolate. Lime. And Vanilla. If these were each food groups I would be the healthiest person walking the planet, because I try to get a serving or two of each of those in a day in addition to the normal groups. (That's right, margaritas would be a food group in my world...)

I use vanilla every chance I get. And that is an expensive habit, people. I buy pure organic vanilla extract and it runs $15 for 4 ounces or $3.75 per ounce. This is where my addiction gets real - I am going to monetize it. (Have you ever done this with your daily coffee? It's horrifying.) I will be bold here, but I bet I average one 4-ounce bottle a month over the course of the year. That equates to $180/year in vanilla. Whew. That is right up there with my pedicure habit.

I have come across - several times now - articles about people making their own vanilla. After doing some research into the price of vanilla beans, I realized I would be saving a boatload of money and it would be homemade. An obvious win-win.

Boy's sister (we will call her "Gladiola") has introduced me to Debra's Natural Gourmet which is a local market in her neighborhood. I am hopelessly obsessed with this place. In my never-ending quest to find things locally and organically I am always at a loss for words standing in their bulk aisle. Debra's carries everything from rare, whole spices to crazy varieties of organic flour. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. Back to my point though. We wandered in last weekend and I found that they had great looking vanilla beans at a price that was very competitive with ordering them online. I excitedly picked up a gaggle (that obviously means 12) of vanilla beans and was on my way.

Making vanilla extract involves soaking scraped vanilla beans in booze. And crappy booze at that. Amazing, I know. You can use just about any alcohol, but the two most common I saw mentioned were vodka and bourbon. Vodka is what is traditionally used, but bourbon creates a more complex flavor. (Yes, please.) I decided to make one jar of each.

Vanilla Extract
5-8 vanilla beans
3-4c. low-quality liquor (I used Jim Beam bourbon and Stolichnaya vodka. Tequila was also mentioned, but that will have to wait.)

Slice the vanilla beans down the center and scrape goo from the middle into jar. Follow this process with all vanilla beans and put the beans in as well. Fill jar with alcohol, but leave enough room at the top that you can vigorously shake to mix. Let rest in a place that is away from light for 2-3 months. Shake daily for the first week and then once weekly for the remainder. 

The moral of the story is that I have 56 ounces of vanilla that will be waiting for me in about two months. And it will have only cost me around $30. That is $0.54 per ounce down from $3.75. Obvious win.

I will post results in a couple months!

A Continued Winter Carb Bender: Braided Pesto Parmesan

Carbs are the wind beneath my wings.

And here we go again with the bread. This time, a savory loaf for dipping in delicious blended winter soups. I came across this recipe, and with a jar of pesto standing idly by in the fridge, was immediately sucked in. This is a very simple recipe that makes nice basic white bread. I followed this recipe and loved it, but also, being who I am, experimented a bit as well. The bread itself is a nice foundation to incorporate things other than pesto and parmesan. I tried the sweet route and sprinkled with a cinnamon/sugar mixture and used raisins instead of pesto and parmesan. (And obviously forgot to take pictures. Ugh.) Delicious.

Pesto Bread

2c. warm water

2T. olive oil

2T. sugar

1/2c. skim milk powder

1T. salt

1T. yeast

5-5.5c. bread flour

2/3c. pesto

1c. parmesan

Combine water, olive oil, sugar, milk powder, salt, and yeast in a large bowl. (Bowl of the mixer if you are copping out and using that method instead of hand kneading.) Add flour 1 cup at a time until dough pulls away from sides of bowl or forms a nice ball. Knead for 8-10 minutes. Place in an oiled bowl and turn to coat. Cover and let rise for 60 minutes - or until doubled - in a warm place. (Remember my hint that I used with the Challah... it works wonders!) 

Divide the dough in half. With one half, roll the dough out to a large rectangle - approximately 8x12". Spread pesto and parmesan on dough leaving a half-inch border. Starting on the long side, roll the dough up into a log and pinch to seal. Place the sealed side down and gently cut down the center into two pieces. Join the pieces on one end and weave them together, pesto side up. Repeat with other section of dough. 

Place loaves in pans and cover to let rise for 30-45 minutes or until they double in size again. Bake in a 375F oven for 35 minutes. 

Veggie Challenge #12: Belgian Endive (Chicory)

I have only ever seen endive used as a vehicle to eat delicious dips and cheeses at cocktail parties. That being said, I have only ever licked delicious dips and cheeses from endive while at said cocktail parties. I ooze class, I know.

After seeing some of the chefs on Chopped breeze through round after round where endive was an ingredient I decided it was time to try the stuff for real. From what I have read, there are two most common ways to prepare endive - roasted or braised. I chose to take the braised route. 

Upon first glance, endive basically looks like mini heads of romaine lettuce. To prepare them, rinse lightly and remove the stem end. Slice them in half lengthwise and cut the core out using an upside down V cut.  

Garlic and Lemon Braised Endive

3-4 heads of endive, rinsed and prepared

1c. water

2 cloves of garlic

juice of 2 lemons

sea salt & pepper

olive oil

Pour a small amount of olive oil and crush garlic in the bottom of a dutch oven over med-high heat. Place endive - cut side down - and allow to brown for 2-3 minutes. Squeeze lemon over top and pour water down the side of the pan so as not to disrupt the placement. Sprinkle with sea salt and pepper. Cover and let steam for 5-7 minutes or until fork tender. 

Endive certainly has an interesting flavor. The lemon and garlic in this recipe are just enough to take the edge off the bitterness that is characteristic of endive. After tasting it braised, I can see the allure of serving appetizers on a fresh endive leaf. The bitter notes would be a perfect compliment to lots of different things... and it looks super fancy. How can you go wrong?

File This One Under Weird: Shad Roe

A Friendly WARNING: This is not for the faint of heart. Re-hashing this recipe to write this post has me somewhat nauseous as I am thinking about what it was that we actually ate. Welcome to New England, baby, our delicacies are downright weird!

Let's begin with a quick explanation of Shad Roe. Shad is a bony fish native to the Atlantic Ocean that is especially prized for its roe - or eggs. Shad roe is considered a sign of Spring here in New England (personally, I prefer daffodils...) and is usually available beginning in late February or early March for only a short time. Boy and I were cruising our local fish market and upon asking our routine question - What's good today? - were excitedly rushed over to the roe. (As you can see in the photo, the roe looks more like a liver - split into lobes - but contains thousands of eggs.) Being the texture-phobe that I am, it took a good 15 minutes of convincing before my adventurous side kicked in. To my credit though, looking at the roe sac sitting on ice was less than appetizing. Frankly, it was nauseating.

The preparation suggestion we received from our awesome Fish Guy was to wrap each lobe of the roe tightly in good bacon and pan sear until just firm... just DON'T puncture the membrane that encases the roe. Hmm, ok. Easy enough. Who doesn't love an excuse to buy delicious Vermont bacon?

I have to applaud boy for his amazing bacon wrapping skills. (One more glass of wine and I would have had him convinced to put it on his resume...)

We pan-seared the bacon wrapped roe until the bacon was just cooked and I must say the result was fantastic. Once cooked, shad roe has the consistency of couscous that has been allowed to stick together with a slightly liver-esque flavor. All in all, I am very glad that we were able to try this delicacy. (More excited at the prospect of being in the know were I ever to come across it on a menu.)

Bacon-wrapped Shad Roe with Broccolini and mushroom risotto.

A Snowy Winter Continues...

For a girl with pretty serious texture issues when it comes to food, I do love me some good tapioca. Growing up, homemade tapioca was commonplace in our house.

Tapioca is chock full of dairy when made traditionally, but there is hope for a non-dairy version. So, for all you non-texture-averse lactards out there, as Bud Light would say - this one's for you.

 I have been testing out unsweetened almond milk recently in everything from my morning coffee to... well, this tapioca. Almond milk is naturally very sweet and makes a great substitution for regular milk. For example, when I put it in my coffee, I don't add any sugar and in this recipe, I was able to cut back on the sugar as well. 

As you can see, this is the small pearl minute kind. (Boo.) I always prefer the large pearl that requires soaking, but my local Shaw's Supermarket just wasn't working with me on this one. 

For the record, this is the recipe from the side of the tapioca box substituting Almond milk, but I will re-write it for you here:

Fluffy Tapioca Cream

1 egg, separated

6T. sugar, divided - cut back at your discretion

3T. Tapioca

2c unsweetened Almond milk

1t. vanilla

Beat egg white in small bowl with electric mixer on high speed until foamy. Gradually add 3 Tbsp. sugar, beating until soft peaks form. Mix tapioca, remaining sugar, almond milk and egg yolk in medium saucepan. Let stand 5 minutes. Cook on medium heat, stirring constantly, until mixture comes to full boil. Remove from heat. Quickly stir egg white mixture into hot tapioca in saucepan until well blended. Stir in vanilla. Cool 20 minutes; stir. Serve warm or chilled. For creamier pudding, place plastic wrap on surface of pudding while cooling. Stir before serving. Store leftover pudding in refrigerator.

Try your hand at it.  Delicious!

A Carb Bender: Braided Challah

I never met a carb I didn't like.

The carb bender continues. This time with some braided Challah. (Yumm.) I actually made this loaf a couple weeks ago, and I am drooling just remembering it. For those of you that aren't familiar with Challah, it is a Jewish sweet bread that is eaten on both the Sabbath and holidays. While I am not Jewish, I have to thank a certain high school friend for teaching me everything I know about Judaism - but mainly for fostering my love for matzo ball soup and good Challah.

Challah is a very simple bread - water, flour, eggs, sugar, and yeast. While I can't boast its healthfulness, I can tell you it has the addictive properties of Wonder Bread, but worse because it is sweet to the taste. Oh, and buttery. Sweet and buttery.

I followed this very traditional recipe I found after a quick search on Challah recipes. Another thing to note is her mention of the "jiffy method". I have used this method on a couple other types of loaves since. I simply microwave a clean, damp tea towel for 30 seconds and then place it over the rising bread in the still warm microwave. It works wonders.

Happy kneading!

Berry Pavlova: Happy Birthday, Boy!

I normally make Boy his very favorite dessert once a year for his birthday. After recently learning the number of calories in a single slice of cheesecake though, I decided to mix it up this time around. [I won't ruin it for the rest of you by saying it is more than half of what you should be consuming in a day.]

While eating my lunch on a recent snow day I turned on my idol, the Barefoot Contessa, to indulge for thirty minutes. I was basically drooling on myself by the end of it.

Meringue? Fresh whipped cream?! Framboise liqueur strawberry sauce?!? Yes please. Sounds like something straight out of my dreams. And perfect timing with Boy's birthday right around the corner.

As was the case with the Lobster Mac and Cheese, I can take no credit for this Triple Berry Pavlova, but I can (and did) pat myself on the back for a flawless execution.

Happy Happy Birthday, Boy!

A Winter Carb Bender: Cranberry Raisin Granola Bread

I shouldn't say this because the premise of this blog is to cook with what is in season in New England, but I am fully bored of winter vegetables. Now, I love root vegetables as much as the next person, but I have a dirty little secret. I am already dreaming of the crisp, vibrant fruits and vegetables that that accompany spring. That being said, I have instead focused a lot of time ensuring that Boy and I (and some lucky neighbors) start our weeks off with fresh loaves of bread to eat with breakfast or enjoy with our stews.

Simple, homemade breads are something that have always turned me into a smitten little kitten. Have you ever looked at the ingredients in a loaf of bread you buy at the store? What percentage of that list can you pronounce? The answer is not many. [I once had a bag of hot dog buns on my shelf for an entire summer that never grew mold. I finally threw them out - still in pristine, children-of-the-corn-esque condition - because the thought of them gave my the heebie jeebies.] I was once told that if you can't pronounce it (or your great-grandmother wouldn't have used it) you shouldn't be eating it. I can't think of a better rule of thumb. Enjoy eating real foods and not food products. But, I digress.

For Christmas I received an amazing book that deep dives into the theory of cooking just about everything. Being the huge nerds that we are, Boy and I excitedly jumped into the chapter on the science behind leavened breads and yeast. Who knew what a precise process bread making is?! Certainly makes me appreciate the perfect baguettes you get in Paris. (Yumm.)

I am very lucky that my new mixer affords me the ability to make doughs very easily. I have been taking full advantage.While I am relying heavily on recipes for the most part now, I hope to be using my growing knowledge of the science of bread making to experiment more in the coming months. Hopefully that focus will help the winter pass quickly while I eagerly await for the colorful fruits and vegetables that signify spring!

Cranberry Raisin Granola Bread
1c. granola
1/3c. oats
1/2c. cranberries (or other dried fruit)
1T. butter
2T. honey
1/2t. salt
1/2c. boiling water
1c. lukewarm water
2t. yeast
2 1/2c. flour
1c. raisins
1/2c. almonds, flaked

Chop granola to fine crumbs. In bowl, combine oats, granola, cranberries, butter, honey, and salt. Add boiling water and mix well with spoon. Set aside to cool. In small bowl, pour lukewarm water over yeast and set aside to ferment. When granola mixture has cooled, add yeast and mix. Add 1 cup of flour at a time and mix. Stir in raisins and almonds. Roll dough onto a floured surface and knead for 8 minutes. Turn into an oiled bowl. Cover with damp cloth or saran. Place in warm area and let double in size. About 1 hour. Punch down and place dough into greased loaf pan. Clover and let rise 10-15 minutes more. Bake at 375F for 35-40 minutes. Remove and cool on wire rack. 

Ready for your close-up?

I was about a paragraph into what will be my next entry and realized that there was a post that needed written before any more food items go up. We all know, and love, Sebastien, my French Blue KitchenAid Artisan stand mixer.

That being said, let's just say that Boy way outdid himself this Christmas. I was unknowingly upgraded from the 325-watt, 5-quart Artisan to a whopper 575-watt, 6-quart bowl Professional 600 Series. For my fellow cooking nerds out there - pretty exciting, I know. For my not-so-nerdy cooking friends, I am a dork, I know.

He doesn't photograph well because he is just so shiny!
Nothing like some hard work to wear that shine away.

I now have the power to make 13 dozen cookies in one bowl versus the measly 8 dozen I had before. I can crank out 8 loaves of bread at one time instead of the pathetic 4 I was able to do before. It is amazing I could even cook before this mixer - I mean, only 8 dozen cookies at once?

Weak.

So kidding! Seb and I had a long, amazing life planned together, but, unfortunately for him, Boy has spoiled me rotten. Have yet to name the new guy, but always open to suggestions!

Here's to a future of more cookies and bread than any one person should or could eat! (Personally, I see it as a challenge...)

Winter Vegetable Pot Roast

Another one of my go-to bang-for-your-buck winter meals is a good pot roast. Talk about a fantastic way to take an inexpensive, otherwise terrible cut of meat and transform it into something absolutely amazing. I have always followed my mom's tried and true recipe that involves topping the seared meat with a Lipton French Onion soup packet and adding some water. A never-fail method I must say, but, being who I am I decided to play with it a little bit.

Winter Vegetable Pot Roast
4-5 lb. chuck roast
1 packet Lipton French Onion Soup
1 onion, chopped
4-5 cloves garlic, pressed
3/4 c. red wine (never cook with wine you wouldn't drink by itself!)
3/4 c. water
2 T. balsamic vinegar

Vegetables: (coarsely chopped)
carrots
brussel sprouts
new potatoes
parsnips

Preheat oven to 300F. Saute onion and garlic together in olive oil, sea salt, and fresh pepper until softened, about 5 minutes. Spread onions and garlic along the bottom of your dutch oven and set aside. Lightly salt and pepper the meat. Over high heat, sear all sides of roast until brown. Place seared meat on bed of onions and garlic in dutch oven. Pour wine, water, and balsamic vinegar over meat and sprinkle dry onion soup on top. Cover and place in oven. Let roast for 4 hours or until meat starts to fall apart.

After 4 hours add vegetables to dutch oven and roast until they are fork tender. Should take between 40 - 60 minutes. 

Admittedly, this is a meal that takes some patience, but is totally worth it (and the leftovers!) in the end. A note on the vegetables I listed above. Take it as a suggestion. In the past I have used celery root, sweet potatoes, and onions to name a few. It all depends on what you are in the mood for, what is in season, and what will hold up to roasting. (I have also been known to make a mean blended soup from the leftover veggies...) Go nuts!

Enjoy!

Holiday Chocolate Frenzy

Oh, hey there, guys. I hope everyone enjoyed the holidays and is adjusting to full weeks at the office again. (Don't worry, MLK Day is less than a week away!)

FACT: I am probably a person you want to know during the holidays.

As someone who looks for excuses to continually cook yummy things and pawn them off on other people, I feel that my life has most purpose November through January. Normally I rotate between cranberry-pistachio biscotti and homemade bourbon hot fudge as hand-outs for Boy's and my officemates and friends, but I made hot fudge for a second year in a row this year. It's not that the biscotti isn't life-changing in its own right, but the hot fudge seems to put people in a straight up frenzy. And let's not kid ourselves people, I love it. (I have always found people's chocolate addictions hilariously intriguing.)

This operation normally involves me destroying the kitchen and a handful of tea towels on a Sunday afternoon, but is all quickly forgotten over a bowl of vanilla ice cream topped with fresh hot fudge that evening. This year, however, Boy had a much longer list of folks that he wanted to thank due to a recent project at the office (an additional 18 people to be exact). Any normal person would have let him go buy the case and a half of wine that he had planned as gifts. Pas moi. No, for some reason, I convinced Boy that it would be a great idea to set aside an evening to make the 32 jars of hot fudge necessary to thank our colleagues for a great 2010.

We did it. I felt like a Keebler Elf in Scrooge's workshop, but we did it. It only took us four hours and we were still speaking by the end of it. I have to say though, it could have taken 24 hours and it still would have been worth the effort to hear all the ways people enjoy this stuff. I hereby promise I do not put crack in it, though you might think it from some of the stories that made it back to Boy and me.

"WOW. My wife sat with your hot fudge on her lap while watching TV last night. I at least put it on ice cream."

"I took it to my sisters house for a holiday dinner. There was pie and ice cream, but we ended up just passing the jar around with a spoon until it was gone. No one ate pie."

I know there are quite a few people that did not get fudge this year because I either did not see you this holiday season or was grossly unaware of your chocolate addiction. In either case, if I missed you and you can't live without some bourbon hot fudge (non-bourbon is also an option!) this season, drop me a note. I am trading hot fudge for Chardonnay.