A Food Year

Chewy Chocolate Cookies

Ken — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 22:06:44 +0000

I made three batches of cookies yesterday from various sources on the Internet and only one recipe turned out to my liking. The first was a white chocolate and macadamia nut cookie that I spiked with orange zest because I thought that would be complimentary. There was entirely too much butter in the recipe and the cookies spread out a lot and tasted more or less like sweetened butter. I could be biased there though because that’s what white chocolate tastes like to me anyway.

The second batch was peanut butter cookies, and I suppose I can’t entirely blame the recipe as I ignored the instruction to absolutely not, under any circumstances, use natural peanut butter instead of Kraft or similar. Well, silly me, but these cookies were a little too, um… natural for my liking.

The third batch was a real winner though, so all is not lost. This recipe, I think, is derived from Cook’s Illustrated, where I think I will solely adapt baking recipes from now on. After I condensed their instructions to use one bowl instead of three, I had a winner.

Chewy Chocolate Cookies

3/4 cup unsalted butter, softened
1/3 cup sugar
1/3 cup dark brown sugar, packed
1/2 cup dark corn syrup
1 large egg white
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 1/2 cups flour
3/4 cup natural cocoa powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt

Preheat oven to 375 degrees with the rack positioned in the middle.
Cream the butter, brown sugar and white sugar until light and fluffy, then add the corn syrup, egg white and vanilla, creaming for another minute or so.
Sift together flour, cocoa powder, salt and baking soda into the wet ingredients and mix until just all the flour has been incorporated, then chill the dough for 30 minutes.
Remove the dough from the refrigerator and roll into 1″ balls. Evenly coat the balls with white sugar and place about 3-4″ apart from each other on two parchment lined baking sheets.
Bake until the surface has cracked but the inside is still slightly moist, about 8-10 minutes, then remove from the oven and cool slightly before cooling completely on wire racks.

It is crucial that you do not overbake these cookies as they will end up hard instead of chewy. These cookies eat almost like a round brownie, which makes them ideal for an ice cream sandwich. Mmm.

Chocolate Truffles

Ken — Tue, 16 Feb 2010 20:33:01 +0000

I don’t have much of a sweet tooth, but truffles are a decadence I can appreciate on occasion. Truffles are so ridiculously easy to make they barely meet the technical definition of cooking. Truffles are, in essence, about as difficult to make as a bowl of cereal.

Truffles are simply balls of ganache, and ganache is simply chocolate and cream mixed together. Okay, maybe not quite as simple as cereal, because you have to heat the cream and you have to roll the truffles, but hardly a difficult procedure. The better quality of chocolate you use, the better the quality of your ganache. Recently I wrote an extensive guide on buying chocolate. For straight eating I prefer other brands, but for baking applications (including this), I swear by President’s Choice Bittersweet. It’s an excellent value.

Truffles are often very expensive. The ingredients definitely don’t come cheap, but the process is painless (though messy) and you can flavor them however you like, so it’s worth making the effort. So, in a time honored fashion of only posting about things when they’re no longer really relevant, I give you a recipe for truffles a few days after Valentine’s Day, that you will quite likely forget about long before next February. Not that the promise of chocolate truffles aren’t enticing on any other day of the year, mind you.

Chocolate Truffles

1/2 cup (125ml) 35% cream
9 ounces (about 250g) bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped
cocoa powder, icing sugar, chopped nuts or chocolate shavings to dust

Heat the cream in a small saucepan over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until it just comes to a boil.
Place the chocolate shavings in a bowl and pour the cream over them. Stir until the mixture is smooth, then chill in the refrigerator until it is manageable, about an hour.
Remove the bowl from the fridge and spoon relatively similar-sized balls of the ganache onto a parchment-lined baking sheet or plate. A melon baller is the perfect size for this. This is the messy part, so don’t surprised if you end up eating chocolate off of your fingers. Return the ganache balls to the fridge and chill once more.
Roll the truffles in the palms of your hand to form a proper ball. When they’ve chilled significantly, this will be a much easier process. Then, simply toss them in the dusting of your choice and shake off the excess.

If you wish to flavor the truffles with something, such as a liqueur (Grand Marnier, Creme de Menthe and Amaretto, as well as Cognac, are excellent choices) simply substitute about an ounce of the cream for the liqueur when you mix the cream into the chocolate. You want to retain roughly a 2:1 ratio of chocolate to liquid, and the flavor of alcohol will carry substantially, so go easy.

Any other element can be added at any time really, such as a whole roasted hazelnut center (like a Ferrero Rocher), maraschino cherry, whatever you’re into. There are hundreds of flavor combinations to work with. The ones pictured are the most simple variety, dusted with cocoa powder, icing sugar and crushed pistachios.

Truffles are “appropriately” served at room temperature, but I like to keep them in the freezer for nibbling. Delicious.

No Machine Ice Cream

Ken — Thu, 11 Feb 2010 04:33:49 +0000

Originally I had planned to make a candied ginger ice cream using the “kick the can” method. The kick the can method of making ice cream involves placing the ice cream base in a cleaned metal coffee tin, taping it shut and putting it in a significantly larger clean, metal coffee tin, filled with ice and rock salt. Once you close that, you can literally kick it around, churning and chilling the ice cream in the process, until it has become ice cream. I say “metal tin” because most coffee “tins” are made out of cardboard and plastic now.

Then I realized I’d just recycled everything possible to use for this purpose in the house, so I had to resort to using Ziploc freezer bags instead. Freezer bags have the opposite effect of metal cans. Freezer bags are quite insulating, whereas metal acts almost as if the ice cubes ricochet directly against the ice cream itself. I borrowed a fridge-full of ice cubes from the neighbors, emptied our own freezer, and still, 20 minutes later, after churning the mixture about in my hands (which is a strangely calming sensation, like ocean waves and clattering seashells… can you tell we’ve been looking at iTravel2000.com lately?) and all of the ice melting, I still had something pretty soupy.

After chilling this mixture in the freezer overnight, still in the freezer bag but with the surrounding bag of ice removed, it set up perfectly. I mushed it around quickly in my hands and took a spoonful to my mouth. Intense orangy goodness! Orangy? Oh, right. That was the other thing. I made a bunch of candied ginger, only to discover that my candied ginger is significantly more intense than the stuff you buy in a bulk bin. So instead of ginger ice cream, I made a Grand Marnier and vanilla bean version. Still complimentary flavors, but I just ate the ice cream with the ginger slices, which I’ve been snacking on for the last 24 hours or so now.

This style of ice cream is basically a simple vanilla custard that is frozen afterward. You could infuse any flavor you like into the milk, not just orange and/or vanilla. If you’re going to add chunks of anything though (say, strawberries, or chocolate chunks, for instance), add them after the ice cream has started to set, not while making the custard! My next plan is to churn out a dulce de leche and banana version. How does that sound? Sounds good to me!

Grand Marnier and Vanilla Ice Cream

1 cup whole milk
1 cup 35% cream
1 vanilla bean
Zest of 2 oranges
5 egg yolks
1/2 cup sugar
3/4 ounce Grand Marnier

One large coffee can
One smaller coffee can
Ice cubes
Salt

Place the milk and cream in a saucepan over medium heat. Split the vanilla bean in two, scrape out the seeds with a paring knife, and set aside. Place the seeded vanilla pod and orange zest in the milk and cream and bring just to a boil, stirring occasionally. Set this aside to infuse for 20-30 minutes, stirring occasionally to prevent a skin from forming on the milk.
Strain the milk/cream mixture and discard the vanilla bean and orange zest. Return the dairy to the saucepan with the seeds of the vanilla pod and return just to a boil.
Meanwhile, beat together the egg yolks and sugar in a large bowl until light and frothy. When the dairy comes just to a boil, remove it from the heat. Quickly mix in a spoonful of the hot milk, a tablespoon or two at a time, into the egg yolks, to temper them. Gradually incorporate all of the dairy into the egg yolks and sugar, then return everything to the saucepan once more.
Cook this gently over medium-low heat, stirring often, until it thickens enough to easily coat the back of your spoon.
Remove from the heat, stir in the Grand Marnier, and chill, stirring occasionally, over an ice bath, until it is cool to the touch. Cover with plastic wrap directly against its surface and refrigerate for several hours.
This mixture can be churned in an ice cream maker, but it is not necessary. Pretty much any sealed container inside another sealed container will work, though some better than others. Ideally, place the chilled custard in a coffee can, put the lid on and secure it well with tape. Place this can inside a larger coffee can and surround the smaller can with ice and salt. The salt actually helps decrease the temperature, cooling the ice cream faster, so don’t omit it! Seal the larger can and shake, spin, roll or kick (lightly!) the can until the ice cream has been churned long enough to set, about 15-20 minutes. You can then eat it immediately or store the small can of ice cream in the freezer, discarding the salty ice water.

Candied Ginger

1 pound ginger, peeled and thinly sliced (1/16″ to 1/8″)
4 cups water
4 cups sugar (plus more for coating)
pinch of salt

Place the ginger slices in a large pot, cover with water and bring to a boil. Drain the ginger and return it to the pot with the measured water, sugar and a pinch of salt.
Bring the syrup to a boil, reduce the heat to medium and cook the ginger until the syrup thickens to a honey-like consistency. If you have a probe thermometer with an alert function, you can walk away and wait until the temperature reads 225 degrees, just make sure to check from time to time that there is still, in fact, syrup in the pot!
Drain the ginger slices, reserving the ginger-flavored syrup if desired. It’s a great addition to iced tea, for example. Space the ginger slices out on a parchment-lined baking sheet or on a cooling rack.
When the slices have cooled slightly, dust them heavily with sugar to coat. Spread them around in the sugar to cover. Cool completely (such as overnight) and then transfer them to an airtight container.

People say that peeling ginger is easiest with a spoon because you can get into the knooks and crannies easier than with a vegetable peeler. That is true if you’re just peeling a 1″ knob for a curry, but an entire pound is a little tedious with something so dainty. I like to peel the larger surface with a vegetable peeler and then tend to the knooks and crannies with the spoon. So there.

Certainly this recipe can be scaled down dramatically, as a pound of ginger is a very significant quantity. Just make sure that the ginger stays submerged in syrup during the cooking process. Ginger can be quite fibrous, so try to find the freshest ginger you can for the most tender candied slices.

Candied ginger can be used for all sorts of baked goods, like cookies, crumbles and pies, especially in things containing oranges, dates, apples or pears. They can also simply be eaten as is.

Brownie Report

Ken — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 20:55:55 +0000

Brownies fit into three basic classifications: cakey, fudgy and chewy. It took me a while of deliberating just what kind of recipe I was looking for. I ruled out cakey immediately because something fluffy and light seemed more like, well, cake. I wanted to achieve something more or less like the one bite brownies, but couldn’t decide whether or not this would be “fudgy” or “chewy”. I looked around for a one bite brownie emulating recipe and the best I found was for a chewy brownie with these directions: “Prepare brownie mix according to box directions and pour into mini muffin tins.” Thanks for that little gem, Internet.

So, knowing I wanted a chewy recipe now, but with no decent recipes found, I gave up. A few days later, I received the latest issue of Cook’s Illustrated in the mail. It seems they were also having a similar predicament, also wanting to create a recipe with a texture similar to the store bought variety. They found a solution through several hundred test recipes. Luckily for me, I just had to read their results.

The chewiness factor seems to boil down to a 1:3 ratio of saturated to unsaturated fat. That means that a chewier brownie is actually achieved by “cheaping out” and using vegetable oil in place of two thirds of the butter. I find something truly awesome about this fact. In all of my baking efforts (which are fairly limited, I must admit), it’s always been about using butter, and the best quality butter you can afford. Here’s a recipe telling me to swap out some Crisco to improve the results. That’s just great. Not only is it great for this recipe, but it’s great knowing this fact when it comes to making, say, chewy cookies.

Enough about chewiness and on with the show! I modified the recipe slightly. I used natural cocoa powder instead of Dutch-processed and recommend you do the same. Their recipe tries to fortify chocolate flavor in every way, adding instant espresso (a natural compliment to chocolate), unsweetened chocolate, extra chocolate chunks, but chose the significantly more subtle cocoa. I don’t understand it. There are no chemical leaveners for the more acidic natural cocoa to interfere with in the recipe and, as far as I know, using natural cocoa powder only improved the chocolate taste. Otherwise, my only alterations were to omit the extra chocolate chunks, as there is more than enough chocolate action going on to please most chocolate lovers without it. That and shorten their wordy directions.

This recipe is a really good “science experiment” to illustrate the power of emulsifiers I was talking about over on Bread is Pain in my article How to Buy Chocolate. When you combine the cocoa and fats, the whole thing looks like a curdled mess. It is only when you add the eggs, containing lecithin, that the whole thing becomes a satiny smooth mixture. Neat, huh?

Chewy Chocolate Brownies

1/3 cup natural cocoa powder
1 1/2 teaspoons instant espresso
1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons boiling water
2 ounces unsweetened chocolate, finely chopped
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
2 eggs plus 2 egg yolks
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 1/2 cups sugar
3/4 teaspoon table salt
1 3/4 cups all purpose flour
(optional) 6 ounces bittersweet chocolate chips or chunks

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and adjust oven rack to lowest position.
Line a 13×9″ casserole dish with foil or parchment paper, leaving enough to hang over the edges of the dish for easier removal of the contents later. Spray this lightly with nonstick spray.
Whisk together the cocoa powder and instant espresso with the boiling water until smooth, then add the chocolate, stirring until melted.
In stages, whisk in the butter, vegetable oil, eggs, vanilla extract, sugar and salt into the chocolate mixture until well incorporated. The mixture should be smooth and satiny.
Sift and fold the flour into the chocolate mixture with a spatula. Make sure there are no lumps. Fold in the chocolate chunks, if using.
Scrape the batter into your prepared pan and bake until a toothpick can be inserted into the center and come out with just a few crumbs attached to it, about 35 minutes.
Remove the pan from the oven and cool for 10 minutes. Remove the brownies as one slab using your prepared foil or parchment handles and set on a cooling rack to cool completely before slicing.

About the only thing I would consider changing with the recipe is an addition of chopped walnuts. Beyond that, I cannot fathom a better brownie recipe.

Ham Stock

Ken — Tue, 02 Feb 2010 13:00:47 +0000

As I’ve griped about before, the local markets in my new neighborhood are Muslim owned, which makes it difficult for me to purchase pork. I don’t feel right about purchasing pork from the corporate chains (if for no other reason than because it’s poorly cut) so for the most part, I’ve been abstaining for the last couple of months. The exception has been with ham. Every once in a while, Provigo will have picnic hams on sale for 99 cents a pound, which means I can pick through and find a ham suitable to feed us for a week for about eight dollars.

I like to boil the ham instead of bake them because it renders it significantly less salty and rewards me with a nice pot of ham stock to use as I please afterward. Ham stock is lovely commodity, reconstituting pretty much any humdrum dried starch into something delicious. Here are two simple recipes for use of said ham stock, one for black eyed peas and another for split peas.

Black Eyed Pea and Ham Soup

1 tablespoon butter
1 onion, thinly sliced
1 carrot, peeled and chopped
1 red chili, seeded and minced
3 cloves garlic, crushed
1 bay leaf
8 cups ham stock
1 cup black eyed peas
8 ounces cooked ham, roughly chopped
1 bunch (4-5 ounces) spinach or collard greens, washed
2 tablespoons cooking cream
salt and pepper

Melt butter in a large soup pot over medium heat. Add the onion, carrot, chili and garlic and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened.
Add the bay leaf, black eyed peas and ham and cover with ham stock. Raise the heat to high to bring to a boil. Cover and cook until the beans are tender, about an hour to an hour and a half.
Add the spinach and cook for several minutes, just a bit passed wilted. Remove from the heat and add the cream. Season to taste with salt and pepper, if necessary.

Split Pea Soup

1 tablespoon vegetable oil or (preferably) lard
1 onion, diced
2 stalks celery, diced
2 carrots, peeled and diced
1 clove garlic, crushed
1 cup yellow split peas
1 cup cooked ham, diced
6 cups ham stock
salt and pepper

Heat vegetable oil in a large soup pot over medium heat. Add the onion, celery, carrot and garlic and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened.
Add the split peas and ham and cover with ham stock. Raise the heat to high to bring to a boil. Cover and cook until the peas are tender and falling apart, about an hour.
Stir the peas until they fall apart, mash or puree them to your desired consistency. Season to taste with salt and pepper, if necessary.

The preference to use yellow split peas is purely aesthetic. There is a taste difference between the two, but I find the yellow more apealing. Ahem.

Buttermilk Pancakes

Ken — Mon, 01 Feb 2010 20:12:30 +0000

When I ask Shannon what she wants for breakfast, she usually answers, “Pancakes!” This is a bit of an ongoing joke between us, as I tend to automatically veto breakfasts comprised purely of carbohydrates. This isn’t necessarily because I’m a nutritional Nazi (which is partly true) but because a breakfast without protein and/or fiber leaves me feeling logy for the rest of the day, sort of in a starved and squinty daze. Every once in a while though, if I wake up before her, I’ll go to whip up a batch of pancakes and hope to have them done before she gets out of bed.

There seem to be two types of pancakes: the slightly crispy edged ones that sort of look like they have a rim at their edges, and the tender and stackable hotcake ones they’re always showing in commercials. Now don’t quote me on this, because my “science of pancakes” isn’t exactly up to snuff, but I think the major difference between these two pancakes comes down to the leavening agent.

When baking powder is used exclusively, the pancakes tend to rise while they’re in the pan, which gives them a bit of time to crisp up. When baking soda is used as well, the batter is slightly leavened already, so when it is poured into the pan, it rises more uniform and the pancakes end up more tender. That might not be exactly how or why, but I’m 99% certain the result holds true. Please, feel free to correct me. I hate being wrong. That is, I hate not knowing when I’m wrong.

When using baking soda, you have to utilize an acid in the recipe to set it off, such as buttermilk. So buttermilk pancakes, in theory, will likely be the tender and picture worthy variety. These tend to keep better when making a large batch, because crispy things don’t tend to keep crispy for very long. Therefore, I think the buttermilk pancakes have a slight edge over the crisped edge variety.

The rest is simply about heat control. I like to use a cast iron skillet to cook my pancakes, slightly greased for the first pancake with a bit of vegetable oil, and then a spot of butter whenever it needs it from there on in. There’s just something right about using cast iron to cook a pancake. If nothing else, cast iron retains heat better, so once you find the sweet spot, that exact temperature on your stove that churns out perfect pancakes, you won’t have to fiddle with knobs when the thinner Teflon pans start to lose heat.

As you may know, Quebec produces most of the world’s maple syrup. That doesn’t mean it’s particularly inexpensive here, but no matter where you are, it’s still worth getting the good stuff. There’s nothing better than real maple syrup as a topping for a stack of pancakes. “Pancake syrups” or whatever other maple flavored syrups that don’t actually contain anything derived from maple trees are just high fructose corn syrup with some artificial flavors added. It’s too thick and too sweet and too… fake – it’s soda pop concentrate for breakfast is what it is. Please, if you haven’t tried or don’t already use real maple syrup, make the switch. If nothing else, it’s actually useful for many other things than pancakes! End rant. Insert recipe.

Buttermilk Pancakes

1 1/2 cups (185g) all purpose flour
3 tablespoons (45g) sugar
1 teaspoon (5g) baking powder
1 teaspoon (5g) baking soda
1/4 teaspoon (2g) salt
1 large egg
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 3/4 cups buttermilk
Vegetable oil, butter and real maple syrup

Preheat oven to 200 degrees.
Sift together the dry ingredients (flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda and salt) in a large bowl.
Combine the egg, butter and vanilla and stir into the dry ingredients. Gradually whisk in the buttermilk until you have a slightly runny and pourable batter. Alternatively, combine all of the ingredients in a blender. The blender is nice because it has a pour spout. Also, less dishes. I like the blender.
Heat a cast iron pan over medium heat, greased with a bit of vegetable oil. Pour about 1/4 cup of batter into the center of pan (a small ladle tends to be particularly well suited for this and produces uniform results). Watch for small bubbles to appear all over its surface, then carefully flip it over with a spatula.
Continue cooking the other side for another minute or two, then transfer the pancake to a baking sheet and leave in the oven to keep warm.
Adjust the heat as necessary and repeat with the remaining batter. Add a little bit of butter as necessary to prevent pancakes from sticking.
When all is said and done, pile up your hard work on a plate, top with a pat of butter and drizzle real maple syrup over the stack.

I like pancakes with steel cut oats and bananas. Just in case you’re ever making me pancakes. Don’t forget the coffee! I’m going to need it.

Crème Caramel

Ken — Sat, 30 Jan 2010 23:04:42 +0000

This is another recipe I was reading in Laura Calder’s book “French Taste” that made me think, “Hey, I haven’t made crème caramel in a while!” As you can see, this is another basic classic recipe containing nothing but sugar, milk, eggs and vanilla, and that’s what I’ve been in the mood for lately, trying to showcase the versatility of eggs and working on simple desserts at the same time.

I have a thing for the flavor of orange, especially in custard, and thought it would go nicely with the vaguely dulce de leche flavor she had said would be infused in the custard from heating the milk in the same pan as you used to make the caramel. Before the custard cooked the flavor was almost cloyingly sweet and really infused with flavor, but when I baked it, a lot of that flavor dissipated. I am not sure how much of that is because I did not infuse enough flavor into it and how much of it is because they weren’t ready the first time my timer went off and I ended up cooking them too long.

Regardless, the bites of sweet orange with the slightly bitter caramel was a nice compliment, even if the orange flavor in the custard itself didn’t really seem to come through too well. You could easily go without the addition of the oranges and go the classic route, if you wanted to. As a side note, I am vaguely disturbed that my picture looks as though it may be just as likely that I had a halibut steak for dessert. I really need to set up a better place to take photos. Yes, I have been saying that since 2006. Oh, it’s classic A Food Year foibles all over again. What can I say? I’m not a photographer.

Crème Caramel with Oranges

2 cups sugar
2 cups whole milk
1 vanilla bean
2 oranges, zested and segmented*
6 eggs

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees with the rack positioned in the center. Bring a kettle full of water to a boil. Have six small ramekins and a casserole dish or similar capable of holding them all at the ready.
Dissolve half of the sugar (1 cup) with 1/4 cup of water in a saucepan and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium and continue to cook until the sugar becomes nicely caramelized and fragrant.
Quickly portion the caramel into the bottom of the six ramekins, swirling them individually to coat their bottoms evenly. Allow them to cool while you prepare the custard.
To make the custard, add the milk to the saucepan that you cooked the caramel in and return it to the heat. Bring the milk to just below boiling point while using a high resistant spatula to remove the remaining caramel from the pan and dissolving it into the milk.
Slice the vanilla bean in half lengthwise, scoop out the seeds with a paring knife, and add the vanilla pod and seeds, along with the orange zest, to the milk. Remove from the heat and set aside to infuse for 10 minutes.
Meanwhile, whisk together the eggs with the remaining cup of sugar. Strain the milk, discarding the vanilla pod and orange zest, and slowly whisk the milk into the eggs and sugar, being careful not to curdle the eggs. This is your custard mix.
Portion the custard mix into the ramekins. Place the ramekins inside the casserole dish and fill the dish up with the hot water, approximately halfway up the sides of the ramekins. The water bath provides a slower and more consistent heat transfer to the custards and prevents them from curdling.
Place the casserole dish into the oven, being careful not to spill the water, and bake until the custards are set, about 30-40 minutes. When shaken, the center of the custard should jiggle like Jell-o, but there will be no noticeable liquid in the ramekins.
Remove the ramekins from the hot water bath and cool slightly. To serve, trace a paring knife around the rim of the ramekin and invert the ramekin onto a plate. If you wish to make the dessert a day before, cool the custard to room temperature, cover the ramekins individually and place in the fridge. Remove them from the fridge at least 20 minutes before serving and then submerge the bottom of the ramekins into hot water for 10-15 seconds to dissolve the caramel before plating. Top with orange segments.

Optionally, this could be made in one large ramekin or casserole dish and then cut into slices to serve.

* To make orange segments (“supremes”) lay the orange on its side and, with a sharp chef knife, slice off the top and bottom of the orange. Set the orange on its sliced bottom to give it a flat surface and then, with your knife, carefully remove the skin and pith (the white part) following the shape of the orange. When all of the peel of the orange has been removed, carefully slide your knife between the membranes that hold the segments in place and plop them into a bowl. Check out This Video for a visual. Alternatively, say “the hell with it!” and open up a can of mandarin oranges, or omit entirely.

Scrambled Eggs

Ken — Thu, 28 Jan 2010 23:58:20 +0000

The Sparrow rejuvenated my impression of scrambled eggs. I thought I would never see the day when scrambled eggs weren’t offered as the egg option for people that don’t like them – that is, people that only like their eggs if they’re cooked to death, brown, rubbery and tasteless aside the liberal application of ketchup. The Sparrow’s scrambled eggs are the difference between eating a Hershey’s kiss and an artisan’s truffle; between eating a dyed supermarket tomato and one fresh from the vines of a garden; between a hot pocket and a pizza pulled straight from a wood-fired brick oven. You get the idea.

I wouldn’t say scrambled has now become my preferred way to eat eggs, but I certainly recognize that they can be a desirable option now. The trick to making good scrambled eggs is to basically do the opposite of what every diner seems to do. That is, cook them slowly over low heat, and only to a point, rather than as quickly as possible on a searing plaque. Dare I say, scrambled eggs can even be a touch runny when poured out of the pan. They will still be cooked through, only the proteins will have not completely coagulated, giving them a softer, creamier texture, almost like a condiment for toast as much as they are an item to themselves.

The French have a way of doing this which is a little too complex first thing in the morning for me. The whites and yolks are beaten separately, then cooked gently over a bain marie (a double boiler; any non-reactive bowl that can be placed over a pot of hot water without its bottom being immersed), the whites first until they just begin to set, then the yolks added for the remainder of the cooking time. This requires dirtying no less than five dishes and is a considerable pain before morning coffee. No doubt delicious, but too ambitious, let’s say.

I do not know for certain how The Sparrow prepares their scrambled eggs, but I’ve devised a method that emulates them to a close enough facsimile. Their eggs rest atop a large slice of rustic toast and are served with house smoked salmon. When summer hits, I hope to achieve the same thing with my own smoker, but in the meantime, just the eggs will have to do. Knowing for a fact that they contain creme fraiche and chives by simply reading the menu, don’t give me too much credit if this helps you successfully duplicate the dish for yourself.

My general rule is to make two large eggs plus one additional egg for every two people. So five eggs for two, seven eggs for three, ten eggs for four. Why? I don’t know, it just seems like the right amount. The addition of cold butter melts during the cooking, and not only gives you a bit of a temperature safeguard, but simultaneously flavors the eggs and gives them a silky texture.

Every cooking show I’ve ever watched will say that you can substitute sour cream for creme fraiche, and while you technically can make such a substitution here, it’s really not the same. You can substitute Greek yogurt for sour cream, but you will certainly notice the difference, if you get my meaning. Texturally they are quite similar, but the flavor of creme fraiche is a better compliment to eggs than sour cream, in my opinion. Here in Quebec, Liberte makes a wonderful creme fraiche, and I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if that’s also what The Sparrow used in their kitchen.

Scrambled Eggs with Creme Fraiche and Chives

5 large eggs, room temperature
1 heaping tablespoon creme fraiche
2 teaspoons cold salted butter, diced
1 tablespoon fresh chives, minced

Whisk the eggs together, at least enough to break apart the yolks, then stir in the creme fraiche and 1 teaspoon of the cold butter.
In a large nonstick pan over medium-low heat, gently melt the remaining butter. Once it has melted, add the eggs.
Stir the eggs often with a spatula, making sure to reduce the heat if they begin to brown. The idea is to cook them slowly so they do not become rubbery, but not so slowly that you feel as though you’re laboriously stirring at the stove!
When most of the eggs have set into pillowy curds and just a touch of liquid remains, remove the pan from the heat and fold in the chives. The carryover heat from the pan should be just enough to finish cooking the eggs to the perfect consistency, the cold butter and creme fraiche having melted into the eggs giving them a luxurious texture. Spoon the eggs over a generous slice of toast and season to your preference with additional salt and some freshly ground pepper.

Meringues

Ken — Thu, 28 Jan 2010 03:41:29 +0000

I’m kind of on a roll for posts about the many unique properties of eggs lately, and after accidentally spending my afternoon reading pastry blogs, I decided to bake up some meringues. There’s something particularly amazing about whipping up something that looks as unappetizing as egg whites into a mass of fluffy white cloud. I was particularly happy about getting to use a piping bag and pastry tip, as I spent good money on these things and they’ve been stowed away for almost a year now without a single use.

If someone knows a way to get that satisfying brittle crunch out of a lemon meringue pie the way a meringue cookie cracks in your mouth, please let me know. The texture of a slowly baked meringue cookie is truly unique. I’m not wild about their flavor as a standalone, but if I could achieve that crispness as a topping for custard or lemon curd, I’d whip some up much more often.

This recipe follows the methodology for “French” meringue, because it is the type, as far as I know, most suited to meringue cookies and macarons. It is important to use caster sugar for this recipe. Caster sugar is a superfine sugar. If you were to use normal white sugar, the meringue’s texture would likely be noticeably gritty instead of soft and delicate. To make caster sugar, if you do not keep it around your house, you can simply pulse white sugar in your food processor until it is superfine. I’ve been reading this for years and thought that was a load of bunk because my food processor blade does not seem to strike particularly low in its basin; but it worked. It worked really well, actually, to an extent that I’m now trying to figure out what I can use caster sugar for that I haven’t been for all these years. Creme brulee, here I come!

The baking process for the meringues can literally take hours because the temperature is so low, but you cannot rush it. It takes time for the meringues to properly dry out. However, if you hate waiting on things or have a wife who prefers them chewy in the middle, then you can free up your oven for the afternoon by pulling them out of the oven in an hour or so. Since my wife bought me a digital scale for such purposes at Christmas, and pastry is usually measured in weight instead of cups for precision, it might help you to know that the ratio I learned is 30g egg whites to 50g caster sugar. The vanilla can be added to taste and the icing sugar is simply added because the cornstarch in it helps as a stabilizer.

Meringue Cookies

3 large eggs, just the whites, at room temperature
3/4 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon icing sugar
3/4 cup caster sugar

Preheat oven to 200 degrees (yes, Fahrenheit) with the rack positioned in the middle of the oven.
Using an electric mixer on its lowest setting (or by hand with a whisk, if you’re so inclined) whisk the egg whites, vanilla and icing sugar in a non-reactive bowl until they hold soft peaks. They should be glossy and white with no visible weeping of liquid.
Continue mixing as you gradually add the sugar by the tablespoon until it has all become incorporated.
Whip the egg whites to firm peaks. Take a bit of the mixture and press it between your fingers. If it feels gritty, continue mixing until the mixture feels smooth.
Fill a piping bag with a 1/2″ pastry tip (or a Ziploc bag with the end cut off, or a funnel of parchment paper, or simply use spoons). Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and pipe out 12 equal dollops of meringue.
Place them into the oven and bake, turning the sheet 180 degrees every 45 minutes to ensure even cooking. After an hour and a half, depending on the amount of moisture contained in the whites, they may be done. Take out a sample, crack it open, and if it meets your standards, turn off the oven, crack the door and allow them to cool to room temperature.

I’ve read that these will keep in an airtight jar for at least a week. I’ve never seen a pastry shop keep meringues in airtight jars. I have no idea what the turnover is for meringues, but I swear the same meringues have been sitting in some store windows for years with no visible depreciation. I suppose it doesn’t really matter though, as meringues have never lasted more than a day in our kitchen.

Orange Almond Cake

Ken — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 04:59:33 +0000

I was flipping through my latest cookbook purchase, Laura Calder’s “French Taste”, hoping for a cake to jump out at me that would be fit for a birthday celebration. I have really enjoyed her latest season of “French Cooking at Home” on Food Network Canada and decided to give her book a look through when I was out one day and ended up picking it up. The recipes are simple, solid and inspirational, and her writing is quite lighthearted and charming without sacrificing merit. There are topics covered in the book that are rarely covered in others without seeming like an uptight manners lesson, such as how to serve a glass of water, that just seem fitting and logical. I endorse it, and not only because I have a boyish crush on Calder herself. Whenever she comes on the TV my wife will yell out, “Your girlfriend is on again!” to lure me from the office.

Anyway… I found a cake that suited not only this purpose, but another I’ve been looking to fill. Lately I’ve been trying to mentally conjure an image of a dessert containing both oranges and almonds but couldn’t really decide on what to make. Her recipe for an orange and almond cake not only seemed appropriate for an occasion, but would fill this void. But first I had to go out and purchase a spring form pan. We had several of these in Alberta and, after buying the ingredients necessary to make this cake, I realized they did not make the cut to move with us. This just clearly goes to show how often I use a spring form pan, if after living in Montreal for three plus years I have yet to require one.

This cake is “flourless”, but in the sense that when people say flourless, they usually don’t really mean not containing flour, they mean that it does not contain wheat flour. It is also, much like a Souffle, leavened with eggs, instead of baking soda or powder. The cake itself is the bare essentials of cake making, containing only eggs, sugar and “flour” (ground almonds) flavored with orange zest. Such a cake can be a tad dry, though still delicious, on its own. To improve its flavor and texture, it is “punched” with a syrup of orange juice, Grand Marnier and vanilla.

The original recipe called for a decoration of candied orange zest, which I made, but ended up folding in to whipped cream to serve as an accompaniment. Should you wish to make candied orange zest, simply zest three oranges, place them in a pot with enough cold water to cover and bring to a boil. Drain, and repeat twice, to remove bitterness from the peel. Then, heat 1/2 cup sugar with a tablespoon or two of water over medium-high heat. Cook this mixture until it becomes a fragrant, deep caramel then add the orange zest, along with 1/4 cup of water – careful, as this will cause some splattering and sugar burns are vicious devils (this is an understatement.) Continue cooking for a minute or two, then remove the orange zest with a fork to parchment paper to cool. To make the whipped cream, simply whisk together 1 cup of heavy cream with 2 tablespoons of icing sugar until it holds its own, then fold in the candied orange zest. This was so good that people were passing around a single communal tablespoon of it around the room to enjoy, before the cake was even sliced.

I should also admit to being a bit of an over achiever and, not wanting to waste the caramel syrup produced making the candied zest, continued to cook it to the hard crack stage (302 degrees), poured it onto a Silpat-type sheet and let it cool slightly, then quickly worked the caramel into orange-flavored candies in the shape of “Bonne Fête”. This was a last minute decision, and the candies didn’t quite set as well as I liked, but made for a decent haphazard cake decoration.

Orange Almond Cake

6 eggs, separated
3/4 cup sugar
3 oranges, zested
1 1/2 cups almond flour (ground almonds)
1/2 cup sugar
1.5 ounces Grand Marnier
1 teaspoon vanilla
1-2 tablespoons icing sugar
1/4 cup sliced almonds

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees with the rack positioned in the center.
Beat the yolks, sugar and orange zest until the mixture becomes thick, pale and ribbony.
Add the almond flour to the yolk mixture, stirring to thoroughly combine, and set aside.
Beat the egg whites to stiff peaks (just when they begin to lose their glossy shine and, when your whisk is removed, leaves a “stiff peak” when it leaves the mixture). Lighten the yolk mixture with 1/3 of the egg whites, then gently fold in the remaining egg whites using a spatula.
Lightly grease a 9″ spring form cake pan and place a piece of parchment paper on the bottom. Fill the pan and bake until set, about 35-45 minutes. A toothpick should be able to be inserted into the center and come out clean. Do not open the oven for the first 30 minutes of baking.
While the cake is baking, mix the juice of the oranges with the 1/2 cup of sugar in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil, and cook until it becomes a thickened syrup, about 5 minutes. Remove from the heat and stir in the Grand Marnier and vanilla.
When the cake is finished, remove it from the oven, allow it to cool slightly, then demold. Carefully spoon the prepared syrup over the cake, allowing it to soak in all over.
To serve, transfer to a serving dish, place icing sugar in a fine strainer and lightly tap to “dust” the cake and cover with sliced almonds.