February 28, 2010

California Grown

The citrus at my farmer’s market right now is downright glorious: the oranges and lemons are at the peak of their season, full of flavor and heavy with juice.  So of course, I’m buying a lot of both, as I did today.  When I got home and put the fruit into my fruit bowl, I could not resist taking a photo.  The colors are so deep and bright, a wonderful counterpoint to the clouds that began gathering outside.

Here’s the photo.

Navel oranges, Lisbon variety lemons, California (!) mangoes

The other fruit you see are mangoes–grown here, in California!  I love mangoes.  I love their complex flavor–a little bit sweet, a little bit bitter, spicy, exotic.  I love the way their flesh feels and how sticky it is.  I try to buy locally grown everything, and I’m fortunate to live in California, where I can find local varieties of nearly every food I like to eat. The one exception has been the mangoes: While pounds upon pounds of the fruit from places like Peru and Ecuador are everywhere right now, I have not been able to get my hands on any locally-grown varieties.  So when I saw these babies today, I openly squealed with delight.  As you can see, they are small, but I am so excited to try them!  Once I have done so, I will report back on their flavor in terms of how these mangoes compare to the imported ones.

Today’s other exciting purchase was my first half-dozen eggs from pasture-raised chickens.  I’ve been buying eggs labeled “cage free” for a while, but have come to question whether “cage free” really means anything.  The chickens could be cage free, but possibly still crammed together in an enclosed chicken coop, never seeing the light of day, which isn’t much more of a life.  Farmers who raise chickens have begun bringing eggs to sell at the market, and today I decided to buy some.  And yes, I took a picture of them.  I’m not sure how interesting this photo will be to other people, but I am including it anyway because I just really loved the subtle variations of soft brown among the eggs (and the one really light egg that, if it were a dress fabric or a paint chip, would likely be called…well…”eggshell”).

Anyway, here they are:

Eggs from pasture-raised chickens. I'm trying to avoid saying I'm "eggsited" about them. Sorry...temptation got the best of me.

I am thinking I might make a souffle with the eggs; if I do, I will write about it and include the recipe.  My normal inclination would be toward making a chocolate souffle, but since I want to be able to really taste the eggs, I’m thinking perhaps a lemon one instead.

In the meantime, I’m looking forward to lots of lemon zest, to thick slices of sweet orange, and to having a go at those mangoes.

February 25, 2010

Sunshine on a Cloudy Day

I’m not exactly sure why, but there is something irresistible to me about lemons.  When they become so abundant that they seem to take over the farmer’s market, I load up on them and make as many lemon desserts as I can.  As a kid, I was never much for any lemon-based treat (why choose a fruit when chocolate is an option?), but now I love desserts made with lemon–its pungent tang was made to be tempered with sugar; in fact, it’s when you add sugar to lemon juice or lemon zest that the real lemon flavor comes out in full. Keep reading →

February 25, 2010

MTV’s Baby Mama Drama: 16 and Pregnant’s Second Season Is Thus Far a Labor of Loathe

Tyler and Catelynn: Putting the "function" in dysfunctional

The new season of the MTV program 16 and Pregnant is two episodes old, and so far, it’s mostly making me pine for the young women profiled in the show’s first season.  The series follows several teen girls as they navigate a world in which the two most hormonally volatile times in a woman’s life–pregnancy and the teen years– collide in dramatic, often troubling ways.  What made the first season of the show so compelling was how well it captured the struggles of teen parenthood; and in most of the stories, viewers could find themselves crossing their fingers, hoping for the best for these young moms and their babies.  What the second season of the show lacks so far is this point of connection between viewer and subject, the humanity that makes the audience care about the person being profiled on the show. Keep reading →

February 12, 2010

My (Mostly) Unprocessed Life

Since the year began, I have been trying to eat as little processed food as possible. My decision is the result of a variety of concerns–concerns about what processed food could be doing to my health, and concerns over the environmental impact of the production. And truth be told, Michael Pollan’s books The Omnivore’s Dilemma and In Defense of Food went a long way toward convincing me that whole foods are the way to go.

This new lifestyle (and, indeed, it often feels like just that–a lifestyle) isn’t a complete redesign of my life; I’ve been an enthusiastic home cook and baker for as long as I can remember, and already cooked most of my dinners myself. Still, for lunch I often relied on “Healthy Choice” frozen foods or canned soup, but going “whole foods” on my food meant that I would have to think about what to prepare not just for dinner, but for lunch as well. Keep reading →

January 26, 2010

Slow Food for the Baker’s Soul

Photo Credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/sophistechate/3335477703/

For most, kindergarten is a time of adventure and fun, of field trips and naptime, of making things out of construction paper and crayon, chunky paste and marking pens.  Kindergarten marks a time of firsts: first words you could read, first time you successfully tied your own shoes, first friends that you made outside of your neighborhood.

But my happiest memories of kindergarten involve none of these firsts, nor do they involve the making of seasonal crafts—paper chains that count down to Christmas or colorful turkeys made by tracing my hand.  My favorite days in kindergarten were those in which my classmates and I, in fidgety groups of five and six, would take a special trip to the kitchen at our school, where we would (under the guidance of a few knowledgeable room mothers) learn to prepare simple snacks that we could make all by ourselves.  These were special days when we would get to use the ovens in the school’s kitchen, learning about temperature, timing, and the importance of potholders. Keep reading →

January 12, 2010

Faux Your Health: Is this advice?

Photo Credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/buzzbishop/ / CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

I don’t know very many people who make New Year’s resolutions.  Part of the reason for that, I think, is that my friends (like, I would imagine, most people) tend to make changes in their lives as needed, rather than arbitrarily waiting for the ceremony tied to the ushering in of another year.  Other friends and family feel that resolutions are rather hollow, made–as they often are–by folks who by February (if not by late in the day on January 2) have forgotten all about what they resolved to do this year, finding themselves swept up instead in the swirling current of life as it always has been.

But for those who do make New Year’s resolutions, particularly those who make the resolution to lose some weight and make healthier choices, January is a boundless cornucopia of tips, tricks, and how-tos from a variety of experts who parade across our media landscape like so much flora-laden floats at the New Year’s Day Rose Parade.

One of the experts who wants to help America “eat this, not that” is Joy Bauer, the resident nutritionist on the set of NBC’s Today show.  Rail-thin and a bit high-strung (early last week she actually recommended that viewers “learn to become fidgety” in order to burn extra calories throughout the day), Bauer performs various functions, including answering viewer questions and, on two Monday mornings a month, inducting people with weight loss success stories into the Joy Fit Club.

Despite the exuberance that Bauer’s first name might seem to connote, “Joy” instead seems rather joyless when it comes to the subject of food and eating.  As a nutritionist, she offers meal suggestions to the audience that take into account calorie counts and nutritional value, but rarely does the potential pleasure of a dish–of making it and eating it–figure into her advice on how to live healthfully and happily.  And that’s a real shame, because in disregarding the pleasure principle, Bauer–however unwittingly–perpetuates the common misconception that the practice of maintaining a healthy diet is a particularly stoic, bland, dissatisfying endeavor.  Indeed, whenever Bauer is on the screen, it’s hard not to think of George Costanza yelling at Jerry, “Have a yolk!  It won’t kill you!”

Of course, one might expect a nutritionist to think first of health and not of flavor when it comes to doling out advice to those seeking to lose weight.  But to think in these terms is to reinforce the myth that those two things (flavor and nutritional value) are necessarily mutually exclusive when in actuality, the opposite is true:  In fact, lots of things that are incredibly enjoyable to eat happen also to contain quite a bit of nutrients.  Think of in-season tomatoes, which need little more than a sprinkle of salt to be enjoyed.  And what vegetable isn’t fantastic when tossed with just a bit of olive oil, salt and pepper and roasted in a hot oven until the edges have begun to brown?  Then there are sweet potatoes to consider, grilled marinated flank steak, tenderloin of pork, a bowl of glistening, jewel-toned strawberries, slices of sticky, spicy mango.

All of these are foods Ms. Bauer could have mentioned one day last week when responding to an email from a viewer who worried that she might never be able to lose weight because she “hate[s] ‘healthy’ foods.”  The question itself requires some follow-up queries: What does the viewer mean by “healthy foods,” and what has she not liked about those foods in the past?  If this is someone whose idea of “healthy food” involves little more than rice cakes, cottage cheese, and over-cooked broccoli, then some education is in order.  What I’m getting at here is that there are a million good-for-you foods this viewer could make that would also taste fantastic.  Her question, though, seemed to indicate that she prefers processed foods to whole foods, and that she assumes if something tastes good it must not be good for you.

Joy advised the woman “try a new food every day,” with the idea that she would then “hopefully learn to like” healthier foods.  But such “advice” is really useless, since it is unlikely a.) that the viewer even knows what kinds of “new foods” would be good to start with, and b.) what to do with those “new foods” in order to maximize–and thus fully enjoy–their flavors.  After all, if this is someone who usually eats frozen entrees and canned soups, it’s unlikely that she will suddenly wander into the produce section and decide on a whim to see what she can do with a leafy bunch of kale.  Diet advice fail!

In Bauer’s defense, the Today show allots her a rather small chunk of time in which to share her expertise with the viewing public, so it’s possible she’s simply providing the best information she can given the time constraints.  It is interesting, then, to turn one’s attention to NBC’s hugely popular show, The Biggest Loser, which, with a running time of two full hours every Tuesday, could (in theory) offer plenty of good advice to those watching at home.  And while the shows stars, trainers Bob Harper and Jillian Michaels, do offer instruction about how to prepare healthy meals, more and more of the “education” on the show has been ceded to product placement, often in the interest of endorsing some processed food at the expense of a healthier (and, I would argue, tastier) whole food alternative.

Of course, all reality shows at this point are bedeviled by the problem of product placement, with the producers unable to resist such an obvious cash cow, thereby forcing viewers to listen to cringe-worthy dialogue as the show’s participants try to make a blatant whoring of products seem like just a casual conversation about, say, Extra Sugar-free gum.  But the product-placement in The Biggest Loser is particularly problematic because it involves a kind of tacit endorsement from Bob and Jillian, who–in playing both coach and parent figures to the contestants (a group whose collective starting weight seems to increase with every season of the show)–are seen by many viewers as the arbiters of all things healthy.

And so, it is deeply troubling, then, to see Bob suggest (as he did in a recent season of the show) that the contestants enjoy a cup of fat free Jell-o with a dollop of Cool-Whip on top as a sweet treat during the day.  First, it probably goes without saying that Jell-o topped with Cool Whip hardly counts as a serving of food, being as both of these items are merely additives and flavorings held together by stabilizers and preservatives.  Possibly even more disturbing, though, is the idea that someone might think that she would actually prefer Jell-o and Cool Whip to a bowl of ripe berries topped with a small scoop of real whipped cream.  (Never mind that if the berries are in season and fully ripe, you might want to simply enjoy them sliced in a bowl, with nothing else on top.)   Anyone who does choose jello over berries is not only missing out on key nutrients (in the berries and, yes, even the cream), but is also depriving herself of the sensuous, wonderful pleasure that comes from the flavors and textures of these real foods.

In other words, eat this:

not this:

???  Bob, you’ve got to be kidding me.

Michael Pollan believes that our country suffers from what he calls a “national eating disorder,” one in which we cede more and more of the control over what and how we eat to other people–to the industries that provide the food we eat, to the nutritionists and scientists who urge us to incorporate this or that particular nutrient into our eating repertoire, and to the manufacturers of processed foods who go to great lengths to sell us their products. In watching how food is treated by our national media, one gains a keen understanding of what troubles Pollan: “Experts” appear on our morning news programs to lecture us on what to eat right now (I say “right now” because the advice seems to be constantly in flux, changing almost daily based on the findings of the “latest study”).  Meanwhile, we learn that we can have our Jell-o and eat it too (and this information is presented to us as though it is a great boon for our taste buds).  It’s hard not to accept Pollan’s point-of-view that we have been goaded into listening to others rather than…well…going with our gut feeling about how, when, and how much to feed ourselves.  Meanwhile, those bringing us this “information” continue to profit–from the advertising that pays for the morning show’s production, to the product placement that has been weaved into our entertainment programs in an effort to ensure that even those with DVRs get their minimum daily value of commercials.

And in the meantime, Americans get heavier and heavier, increasingly hooked on processed foods and less aware of how to avoid them.  Many of these Americans will resolve to get healthier this year.  One hopes they’ll begin that journey with a bowl of fresh fruit and thereby proclaim there really isn’t always room for Jell-o.

December 7, 2009

From Scratch: Sea Salt Caramels

Handmade, hand-wrapped caramels

It’s December, and that means right now people everywhere are hunting through kitchen cupboards and drawers in search of the holiday cookie cutters, eagerly anticipating an afternoon spent baking and decorating sweetened butter cookies. Others are pulling out the treasured family recipe for fudge, excited that the time has come once again to savor that special treat.

Indeed, one of the best things about this time of year is the way that it connects us to our food traditions, reigniting memories through the scents and tastes of our childhood. Amidst all this tradition, though, there is also space for trying something new, for making sweets today that will themselves become tradition in the years to come.

For me, that new ritual may very well come in the form of sea salt caramels, a treat I made this past Friday for a holiday gathering of friends that happened on Saturday. When I saw Ina Garten make them on her show a few weeks ago, I thought sacks of the little treats would make great party favors; plus, in a season in which people are receiving plates full of cookies, fudge and fruitcakes from friends and neighbors, this little bag of caramels would be an unexpected treat. What’s more, they last a good long time, much longer than cookies or fudge, and therefore could be put away and enjoyed next month, even, when one is not being offered sugar-laced snacks several times a day.

I was indeed glad I made these. First, they were fun to make, and the kitchen smelled intensely of butter and vanilla long after the caramel mixture was setting in the fridge. In addition–and perhaps more importantly–they taste great: creamy and rich, with buttery, nutty, salty notes; you can tell they were made from scratch.

Caramels, naked as the day they were formed

The recipe is below. As you’ll see, it calls for fleur de sel, but the $18 that the tin I found cost was a bit out of my food budget this month, so I went for Trader Joe’s sea salt. It worked fine. The idea is to have the salt boost the caramel flavor, and to me, the TJ’s sea salt did just that. Don’t worry about the candies being too salty; they aren’t. But of course, if you are worried about dusting each with a sprinkling of sea salt, you can always test it out on just one caramel and see what you think. That’s what I did, and I noticed a definite difference between the salted and the unsalted caramels.

My other suggestions follow throughout the recipe in brackets. I usually offer suggestions after the entire recipe, but since my suggestions are related to various steps in the preparation, I thought it would be more helpful to people to read them as they go. I just wanted to add here that the recipe for Fleur De Sel Caramels at the Food Network site is wrong. Fortunately, recipe reviewers who had copied the recipe while watching the episode of Barefoot Contessa in which Ina makes these pointed out the errors and offered the corrected measurements of each ingredient, so I went off that advice. It’s worth noting here that the recipe has been wrong for over a year, and reviewers have, apparently, notified Food Network, but the webmasters there have failed to fix the recipe. I have long thought that Food Network has one of the worst websites out there, and this experience just further underscored that for me. I’m thankful to the reviewers who corrected the problems with the recipe as it is printed on the Food Network site.

Fleur De Sel Caramels
Recipe from the amazing Ina Garten

1 ½ C. sugar
¼ C. corn syrup
½ C. water
1 C. heavy cream
5 Tbsp. unsalted butter
1 tsp. fleur de sel, plus extra for sprinkling
½ tsp. pure vanilla extract

Line the bottom of an 8-inch square baking pan (or loaf pan) with parchment paper, then brush the paper lightly with oil, allowing the paper to drape over 2 sides. [I used a 9 X 13" pan, and it worked fine for the job. In fact, I will probably use it again next time, because it causes the caramel mixture to form a thinner layer and therefore cool rather quickly in the fridge.]

In a deep saucepan (6 inches diameter by 4 1/2 inches deep) combine the sugar, corn syrup, and 1/2 cup water and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Continue to boil until the caramel is a warm golden brown color. Don’t stir – just swirl the pan to mix. Watch carefully, as it will burn quickly at the end! [The mixture was about the color of peanut butter--or browned butter--when I added the milk and cream, which is what you need to do as soon as the sugar mixture becomes this "warm golden brown color."]

In the meantime [meaning, while you are waiting for the sugar to turn a warm brown color], bring the cream, butter, and 1 teaspoon fleur de sel to a simmer in a small pan over medium heat. Remove from the heat, set aside and keep warm.

When the caramelized sugar is the right color, slowly add the cream mixture to the caramel – it will boil up violently. Stir in the vanilla with a wooden spoon and cook over medium heat for 5 to 10 minutes, until the mixture reaches 248 degrees F (firm ball) on a candy thermometer. [This only took four minutes on my stove top, so go by the temperature, not by time. If you don't have a candy thermometer, invest in one before you make these. They are cheap and easy to come by; I think I even got mine at the grocery store many years ago.] Very carefully (it’s hot!) pour the caramel into the prepared pan and refrigerate until firm.

When the caramels are cool, use the parchment paper to pry the sheet from the pan onto a cutting board. Starting at 1 end, roll the caramel up tightly until you’ve rolled up half of the sheet. Cut the sheet across and then roll the second half tightly. You will have 2 (1 by 8-inch) logs. Sprinkle both logs lightly with fleur de sel, cut each log in 8 pieces. Cut parchment papers in 6 by 4 1/2-inch squares and wrap each caramel in a paper, twisting the ends. Store in the refrigerator or at room temperature.

[I did things a little differently here. I took the long edge of my caramel sheet and folded it over about an inch. I then pressed down slightly to fuse the two layers of caramel and then cut this "log" free from the sheet and sliced it into chunks that were about ¾" long and about ½" high. I repeated this process until my sheet of caramel was no longer a sheet but rather several two-layer "logs." Since Ina rolls her sheet of caramel to make a very big piece of candy, she only got 16 very large caramels from her batch; mine yielded nearly 70 smaller ones, making them not only a fun and sweet holiday gift, but a budget-wise one as well.  One last thing: I salted my caramels individually, and found that doing so ensured that the salt stayed on the caramels better, and coated each more evenly.  But you should do whatever is easiest for you.]

December 6, 2009

Cutie Clafouti

As I mentioned in my most recent post, I’ve been working my way through Nicole Rees’s amazing cookbook, “Baking Unplugged.”  The text celebrates the joys of making things completely by hand–no machines or fancy gadgets required.

So far, every recipe I have tried (five, so far) has been fantastic, from stick-to-your fingers moist chocolate snack cake to breakfast rolls flavored with orange zest and cardamom and dotted with rum-plumped golden raisins.  Among these five recipes, the simplest has been the Cranberry Clafouti; it’s also been one of the most enjoyable, with a depth of flavor that I would have never expected from a dessert that is like a custardy puff pancake.

Because its cranberry season, one of my favorite seasons of the year, I’m including the recipe here.  And because it is also the gift-giving season for many people, I am recommending Baking Unplugged as a great gift idea, equally perfect for someone who is just learning to bake as it would be for someone who already knows the pleasures of a mixing bowl and whisk.  This book just makes me really, really happy.

So here is the clafouti recipe.  I have no advice to offer because, in the three times I’ve made the clafouti, I’ve followed the instructions and ingredient list as printed in the book, and everything worked out beautifully every time.  I should mention that I cut the recipe in half (and yes, use one and a half eggs!) and cook it in my small skillet, and I cut the cooking time down to seven minutes for this smaller version.  I have made the clafouti both with and without the almond extract, and my personal preference is to leave it out.  For the liquor I use amaretto, and I love the depth of flavor it adds to the sautéed fruit.

Cranberry Clafouti: To make me is to love me.

Cranberry Clafouti

Makes 3 to 4 servings

½ C. all-purpose flour

½ C. sugar (Rees says: If you would like to use a fruit other than cranberries, use ¼ C. sugar)

¼ tsp. salt

3 large eggs

1 C. (scant) whole milk or 2% milk

½ tsp. vanilla extract

1/8 tsp. almond extract (optional)

1 Tbsp. unsalted butter

1 ½ C. cranberries (or other fresh fruit)

3 Tbsp. brandy, amaretto, Grand Marnier, or Cointreau—whatever you have on hand

Powdered sugar, for dusting

Position a rack in the upper third of the oven, and preheat the oven to 425°F.  Place an ovenproof 9″ or 10″ skillet over medium heat for a minute or two to get hot.  Meanwhile, in a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, 2 tablespoons of the sugar, and the salt.  Gradually whisk in the eggs until the mixture is smooth and lump free.  Whisk in the milk and extracts.

Melt the butter in the hot skillet, swirling to coat evenly.  Sprinkle the remaining sugar over the butter and then add the fruit to the pan.  Increase the heat to medium-high and sauté, shaking the pan frequently, until the fruit softens and the juices and sugar form thick syrup, about five minutes (about three minutes for most other fruits).

Turn off the heat and add the brandy to the pan, shaking the pan to coat the fruit evenly.  Pour the egg batter into the pan.  Bake in the upper third of the oven for 10 to 12 minutes, until puffed on the sides and fully cooked in the center (check with the tip of a knife).  Serve warm with a dusting of powdered sugar.

November 29, 2009

Grateful for Family, Friends, and a Fabulous Biscuit Recipe

Those of us who traveled out of town for Thanksgiving are likely back in our own kitchens with the holiday leftovers now several cities or even several states away.  What that means is that those of us who’ve returned home but have yet to do the weekly shopping are either ordering takeout or bravely cobbling together a dinner made from whatever happens to be in the refrigerator, freezer, and kitchen pantry.  For me, this meant resisting the urge to have Cranberry Clafouti for dinner even though I had all of the ingredients—flour, milk, eggs, cranberries, sugar, butter, vanilla—required to make this lovely sweet something that is not really a pancake but also not quite a custard.  Lest you think I staved off temptation because of some stalwart commitment to always eating “right,” I feel I should admit that I resisted making the clafouti only because I had made it for dinner twice in the week before I left town for Thanksgiving (and, truth be told, I also made it once for breakfast during that week, and if memory serves, this was on a morning after I had had clafouti for dinner.  Damn you, clafouti, for being so tasty and so easy to make!).  Such decadence preceding what is arguably the most decadent meal of the year is not something anyone should make into a habit, so clearly, something needed to be done to break this vicious clafouti cycle.

Fortunately, because I went shopping at the farmer’s market just two days before I left town, I came home to a pantry that had rather a lot more to offer than a random assortment of canned goods and a few jars of condiments.  I had eggs, a few good-sized leeks, an assortment of wild mushrooms that had not only survived a week in my refrigerator but actually still looked great, and my usual stock of baking necessities: flour, butter, sugar, salt, and leavenings.  I decided on scrambled eggs with sautéed mushrooms and leeks over homemade biscuits, despite the fact that I had never made a biscuit that I truly enjoyed.  I’ve had several great biscuits in my day, but none of them had ever come out of my kitchen.  The ones that I had tried to make were always disappointing, failing as they did to compare with the biscuits I had meant to make: that is to say, biscuits that would be fluffy and not dense, moist and not crumbly.

Still, just because I hadn’t ever made a good biscuit, that does not mean I regarded good biscuits as being totally out of my league, forever unattainable, always to be supplied by some other, masterful biscuit maker.  My students at the university where I teach often say at the beginning of the semester, “I’m just not a good writer,” a statement which always leads me to respond, “You’re not a good writer yet.”  And so, on this Saturday after Thanksgiving, with the promise of savory scrambled eggs humbly scattered across feathery, light, moist homemade biscuits, I told myself, “You haven’t made good biscuits yet,” and set about trying once again to do so.

For help, I turned to Nicole Rees, whose book, Baking Unplugged is quickly becoming one of my favorite baking books ever.  (Mind you, the clafouti recipe is also in this tome, so you can imagine the temptation I had to overcome to skip past that and move on to the recipe for biscuits.)  So far, I’ve liked everything I’ve made from this book (and, obviously, really liked that clafouti), including her Coffee Cocoa Snack Cake, cakey cranberry muffins, and Morning Rolls made with cardamom and orange zest and studded with rum-soaked raisins.  I trust this author—her knowledge, her advice, and especially her palate.  And so, armed with her recipe for Southern-Style Pull-Apart Biscuits, I gave this biscuit-making thing another try.

Don't worry, clafouti; we'll be together again someday.

The biscuits were, in a word, amazing.  In several words, they were also unbelievably easy to make.  I imagine that the hand-forming (rather than rolled out and then cut) method of shaping the dough helps to keep the biscuits fluffy and prevent them from getting tough or dried out.  Also, grating the butter in the manner indicated in the recipe cut down on the time required to blend the butter with the dry ingredients, and as many a baker knows, the less time you spend mixing a non-yeast dough, the less likely it is to resemble a hockey puck once baked.

Besides being fluffy and moist, the biscuits also had great flavor.  Rees wittily comments on her obsession with butter throughout her book (her recipe for chocolate chip cookies calls for melting half of the butter in order to yield a cookie with even more butter flavor), and with this recipe, it’s easy to see why she’s developed such an obsession.  The biscuits themselves were so buttery and moist that they could be enjoyed with very little butter once out of the oven.  Of course, that shouldn’t stop anyone who is so inclined from slathering each biscuit with a nice dollop of buttery goodness.

The recipe follows below.  As for the eggs that went atop my biscuits: I sautéed roughly a third of a cup of leeks and three-quarters of a cup of chopped mushrooms in two teaspoons of olive oil.  I like my scrambled eggs to be a mixture of one whole egg combined with the whites of two other eggs, so that’s how I did these.  Seasoned everything with salt and pepper.

Biscuits. Notice halo effect, to communicate degree of heavenliness.

No picture of the eggs, just the biscuits.  The picture doesn’t do them justice, failing as it does to communicate how buttery-rich, feathery and moist these babies are.  This:

See how fluffy?

was my best attempt at capturing their fluffy interior on film.  (I am no food photographer, which is probably plainly evident by now.)

Usually when I post a recipe on my blog, I offer advice about what I will do differently or have done differently when making the recipe, based on previous results.  With this, as with the other recipes in Rees’s book, however, I find no alteration necessary (though I would imagine these biscuits would be great with chopped fresh herbs added to the dry ingredients along with the buttermilk).  I loved these with my eggs, but I’m also planning to have them with the vegetarian chili I’ll be making tomorrow.  I also think they’d be wonderful with fruit as a shortcake base (which is one of the ways Rees uses them in the book), and delightful with some ham for lunch or with breakfast.  Enjoy!

Southern-Style Pull-Apart Biscuits

Recipe by Nicole Rees, author of Baking Unplugged

1 ½ C. cake flour

2 C. all-purpose flour (divided)

2 Tbsp. sugar

1 Tbsp. baking powder

1 tsp. salt

½ tsp. baking soda

¾ C. cold unsalted butter

1 ½ C. cold buttermilk

1 to 2 Tbsp. unsalted butter, melted, for brushing the biscuits

Preheat the oven to 375°.  Butter a 13 x 9” baking pan.  In a large bowl, stir together the cake flour, 1 ½ cups of the all-purpose flour, the sugar, baking powder, salt, and baking soda until well combined.  Using the medium shredding holes on a box grater, grate the butter into the flour, tossing often to coat the butter with the flour.  Using a pastry blender or your fingers, work the butter into the flour until it forms ¼” pieces.  Gently fold in the buttermilk until the flour is mostly incorporated.  Don’t overmix—the batter will be thick, sticky, and lumpy.

Place the remaining ½ cup flour in a small bowl.  Scoop about 1/3 cup of dough into the dusting flour, rolling the dough to coat it evenly.  Gently roll or pat the dough into a round ball and drop into the pan.  Repeat this procedure with the remaining dough, 5 biscuits the long way in the pan and 3 the short way, leaving small gaps between the dough balls.  Press the tops to flatten slightly and brush them with the melted butter.  Bake in the upper third of the oven for 18 to 22 minutes, or until no longer doughy in the center and browned on the tops.

October 25, 2009

Food Network Challenge: A Very Special Olympics

Photo Credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/bunchofpants/2964263685/

Photo Credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/bunchofpants/2964263685/

Lately I’ve become obsessed with Food Network Challenge, a televised weekly food battle that features bravado, trash-talking and excessive compensation–it’s like professional sports, only without the fan face-painting and cheesy halftime shenanigans.

The challenges run the gamut, from best burgers to top tailgate fare, but I’ve found that I’m particularly enamored by the cake-related ones, partly because of the unabashed absurdity that forms the underpinnings of these “contests,” and partly because sexy cake decorator Jason Ellis doesn’t appear on Food Network Challenge: Chili Cookoff or Food Network Challenge: Extreme BBQ.  Ellis is as hilarious and charming as he is cute; it’s an irresistible combination.  Here’s proof of his good looks:

How you doin'?

How you doin'?

Of course, he’s also gay (as far as I know) which means it could never happen between us.  The 2,000 mile geographical separation as well as the fact that we don’t even know each other might also be factors that would keep us apart, but as you’ll see, Food Network doesn’t bother to consider reality when it creates these competitions, so I don’t see why I should be bound by such constraints when I’m tuning in to ogle the competitors.

Depending on how you feel about totally feigned competition scenarios, Food Network Challenge is either God’s gift to competitive cooking or an absolute abomination.  As I mention above, Food Network does not traffic in reality, which is why–after three plus years of coming up with these challenges–the network’s creative directors, having found the well of new ideas to be running dry, have begun to sip instead from the well of  “What the…?”

Take, for example, Food Network Challenge: Triplets Birthday Cake.  In this particular episode, the decorators were told to create a cake for three fraternal triplets who were turning sixteen, the challenge being that, to create such a cake, the decorators would have to create something that appealed flavor-wise to each triplet, and design the decor in such a way as to reflect the hopes, dreams, passions and fave color schemes of the birthday boys and girl.

That alone seems–to the uninitiated–a significant enough challenge (Ooh–one triplet loves yellow, while another hates it–how will the bakers pull this off?), but those of us more familiar with “Challenge” (as the host and contestants refer to it) know that a task that simple would be…well…a piece of cake in Food Network land. “Oh, c’mon now,” we scoff, “Where’s the ‘challenge’ in that?”

Fortunately, there was a fly in the buttercream, and it came late in the game, as the decorators were putting what they thought were the finishing touches on their cakes.  The three teen judges dropped in with some unfortunate news.  Turns out the cakes were all so spectacular that the teens could never choose one over the other.  And so together they decided the way to solve this confectionery conundrum was to tell the competitors that a four-foot tall cake reflecting the interests and tastes of each teen alone just wouldn’t cut it in this competition.

[Triplets to cake decorators]: Since we can’t choose between your cakes, each of you will need to come up with a name for our film company [that is, the triplets non-existent film company] and design a logo for it.  Then you will need to somehow, like, incorporate the name and logo into the cake, and then we’ll make our decision based on which name and logo we like best, and how well you work it into the cake.

[Jay to triplets]: You’ve got to be kidding me.

[Jay to triplets, translation]: Are you effing kidding me?

In the end, the prize went to Norman, another familiar face at Challenge, who tearfully admitted he won it for his father, who had passed away before Norman started competing on the FNC circuit.  Norman’s a sweetie, and good for him and all.  But let’s look at Jason again.

How yooooooooouuuuu doin'?

How yooooooooouuuuu doin'?

OK, so, the whole, “Design a logo and come up with our film company name” thing was contrived enough, and yet it’s nowhere near as ridiculous as Food Network Challenge: Blind Date Cakes.  Remember the show, “The Dating Game”?  Conjure up your memories of that and cross them with the Pillsbury Bake-off, and you’ve got the basic idea.  The show began with three very anxious bachelors seated behind a screen.  They asked questions of a bachelorette, and after the q & a, the bachelors were paired with pastry chefs who created and decorated cakes for the woman based on the information the men had gleaned during their brief conversation with her at the beginning of the show.  Once the cakes were completed, the woman chose her favorite; the suitor who helped create the winning cake then came out from offstage, and off the two went on a “fantasy” date.

As you might imagine, cakes proved an unreliable method for matching a potential couple.  While the winning cake seemed to incorporate everything the bachelorette liked (and I mean everything–the effect was that of one’s life passing before her eyes…on a rotating cake pedestal), the bachelor on the other hand…not so much.  It was a little like watching Martha Stewart being sent on a date with Jesse Ventura.  Somehow, you just don’t see it working out.

It’s odd enough to watch cake decorators craft a multi-tiered homage to a woman they’ve never met using ideas from a man who has also never met the woman in question, but what might be even more ridiculous is to go on an all-expense-paid Carnival cruise to the Bahamas, return from the cruise, make a cake to commemorate the experience, and take home $10,000 for doing an especially good job. But that’s just what happened recently on Food Network Challenge: Fantasy Vacation Cakes. While people continue to lose their homes, jobs, and life savings, Food Network is evidently financially viable enough to send four cake decorators on a cruise to the Bahamas–and on top of that award $10,000 to one of them just for baking the best cruise-themed cake. True, the trip likely didn’t cost Food Network very much; the episode was an obvious shill for Carnival Cruises that even the thick sheets of fondant and the giant, gold, edible seahorses that donned the winning cake could not conceal–but it was still a bit shocking to see so much money being thrown around for a televised cake decorating competition in which the winning cake would not even be featured at a specific event.

Jason Ellis was competing though, so of course I watched.  Unfortunately, his cake–and cake stand, actually–fell apart, and thus he lost this challenge.  But the episode still yielded some fascinating bits of insight, not the least of which was that the Challenge newbie in this episode–a bubbly blond who specializes in the kinds of sleek, elegant cakes favored by people who think that $20,000 is “just what a wedding costs these days”–revealed that one of her favorite parts of the cruise was that each day, the stewards would replace the guest towels with clean towels folded into the shape of a dog’s face.  She liked this detail so much that she had one of the stewards teach her how to fold the towels this way, and then incorporated that element into her cake.

An all-expense-paid cruise to the Bahamas, with snorkeling, swimming, and drinks with umbrellas, and yet the highlight for this woman essentially involved folding laundry.

The winning cake–a tacky, overly-decorated mish-mash of sparkly decorations (including sugar beads designed to emulate the Carnival chandeliers and a set of huge edible seahorses finished in culinary-grade gold leafing)–was all the more undeserving of $10,000 because, in addition to its gaudy showiness, the cake’s decorator insisted on referring to her decorations as “bling,” a transgression that should have not only prevented her from winning, but disqualified her from even competing.

But alas, fairness or logic don’t always have a place at the judges’ table in Challenge, and why should they, being they are also optional ingredients in each contest’s premise–ingredients that the Food Network believes should be used sparingly, if at all.  As long as Jason Ellis remains on the show’s menu of competitors, however, I’ll keep watching, no matter how ridiculous the challenge.  If it were up to me, that next competition would be Food Network Challenge: Bathing Suit Sweets, in which the competitors would construct their cakes while wearing only their swimsuits and a smile.  And any contestant whose body or cake was adorned with “bling” would be immediately removed from the premises and forced to go on a blind date with an aunt or uncle of the birthday triplets.  That sounds contrived and illogical, which is why I think there’s real hope I’ll see it on Food Network soon.