Miso Delight

Wednesday, April 09, 2008

M made a lovely eat-from-the-freezer dish last night.  We’ve been trying to finish everything up, as our Lancaster Farm Fresh one and a half shares will be starting soon! 

This is from the Moosewood Cooks at Home, which we find a useful book for quick eats and very adjustable recipes. 

Miso Sauce

1/3 cup medium to light miso (M used yellow)
1/3 to 1/2 cup water
2 TB rice vinegar
1 tsp fresh grated ginger

Mix miso and 1/3 cup water until smooth.  Add vinegar and ginger, mix well.  Add a little more water if needed to make a saucelike consistency.

None of that (except the water—you must not forget the water, Best Beloved) was local, but M steamed yummy things from the freezer including kale, green beans, red and green peppers, and corn.  I made a grain mix (lentils, brown and mixed rice, job’s tears), and the whole thing was very good.  The sauce is quite sharp, but with frozen veg, zing can add summer zest.

p.s.  this was our first experiment with the ginger that we had (as Mollie Katzen suggested) put in white wine and put in the fridge so it wouldn’t go off before we could get to it—roaring success!

Shouldering the Burden of Easter Dinner

Sunday, April 06, 2008

If I had to select one ingredient in my kitchen as the most important, I think I would have to bypass the olive oil (even the single-estate, “crack oil” as we call it in our house), the pancetta, and sea salt.  I would eschew all of those for one simple, free ingredient that requires absolutely no storage space: time.  The more I cook, and the more I cook locally, the simpler I want my dishes to be.  (I have read that Tuscan cooking, in particular, adheres to a single herb in many dishes.  While that may seem rather austere, it is in the same spirit.)  I want to extract the most flavor from each ingredient and balance that flavor within the whole.  The fewer ingredients, the less room for error or blandness, as each component is essential.  The most important ingredient, then, is really time.  If it is a quick saute or grill, then time spent preparing (or, “mise en place,” as Anthony Bourdain might call it) is crucial.  In other instances, as in this slow-roasted pork shoulder, everything is dependent upon time cooking. 

We ordered this beautiful, seventeen-pound, bone-in, skin-on-and-scored pork shoulder from the Fair Food Farmstand (thanks again, Ruth) only the Monday before Easter.  We picked it up on that Saturday and promptly set it in a roasting for roughly thirteen hours.  It was an incredibly simple preparation: some root vegetables in the bottom of the pan, which caramelized beautifully (and which I then pureed as part of a gravy); a simple rub of salt, pepper, and fennel seeds; and time, lots and lots of time.  Most importantly for me, as I am a frustrated perfectionist when it comes to cooking meat, I didn’t really need to worry about internal temperature or exact cooking time: i just waited for the meat to fall away from the bone, which it did quite beautifully. 

Obviously, this was more than enough food for the seven of us, but we were able to send everyone home with leftovers and still have two days worth of lunches for ourselves.  What better parting gift could their be? 

Near Eastern Meatloaf (by way of Lancaster County)

Sunday, March 30, 2008

Part 2 of my first order with the Meadow Run Farms buying club (see Tortilla Espanola for Part 1; see link at left under “meat” for information on the buying club) was ground beef and ground lamb for my favorite meatloaf. In fact, I joined the club practically on the basis of its having ground lamb because it can be hard to find, local or otherwise, in grocery stores.

The ground meat is packaged in flat pouches that make defrosting much faster than a brick-like package. I don’t know if that was intentional, but it works for me. What you’re looking at is a pound each of beef and lamb.
What makes this meatloaf “near eastern” is the kefte-like spice and other additions. I don’t measure when I make this, so amounts are approximate:
1/3C chopped parsley
1 small onion, minced (in this case it was 1/3 of a bermuda onion from Rineer Family Farms)
2 carrots, grated (on the big side of a box grater)
2T pomegranate molasses
1T Syrian kefte spice (a mixture that I buy at Kalustyan’s in NYC)
1/4C dried currants or zereshk (barberries, a Persian food that is slightly sour)
1t salt
(A handful of pinenuts is a nice addition, too.)
To this, you work the meats in with your hands. (If you want to check the seasoning before you bake the loaf, take a little and fry it in a pan for an approximation.)

Bake at 350 for about 1 hour 15 minutes. This meat yielded a nice juicey loaf (the carrots help with this, too) with a wonderful lamb flavor. Could you go 100% lamb? Absolutely. Enjoy!

With April come violets!

Friday, March 28, 2008

I’ve heard it said that April is the cruelest month here in Pennsylvania in terms of locally grown produce.  But with April usually comes violets.  Around my house we generally tend to start see them popping up around mid-April through the end of May.  Most people don’t look at wild violets growing in the yard and think “Hey, I think I’ll eat those!” but foraging for wild violets is a sweet way to get in some early locally grown food.

Yeah, ‘sweet’.  Get it?  I make candied violets every Spring.

True, candied violets don’t taste like much except, well, sugar.  But if you’re decorating a cake, they’re useful to have.  Or they’re good just as a snack.  And they last practically forever.

Here’s how you do it -

1. First, go out into the yard or someone else’s yard or wherever violets are growing and pick a couple big handfuls.  Whatever you do, make sure you pick them from places you know haven’t been treated with pesticides or herbicides or any other potentially dangerous chemicals.
2. Wash the violets very gently.  You can soak the flowers in cold water for a little while or gently swish them in water, as you prefer.  Before you start candying the violets, though, you need to make sure the violets are completely dry…so be sure you give them enough time to air dry.
3. Preheat your oven to 200 degrees.
4. Make egg wash using egg whites from two room temperature eggs with a pinch of water.  Whisk the egg white/water mixture until it’s just very lightly a little frothy.
5. Crush a half cup of granulated sugar with a mortar and pestle.  It doesn’t have to be like powder, but it should be smaller granules

6. Grab a small paint brush and a violet.  Dip the brush into the egg white and very gently but thoroughly coat the violet flower on all sides.  This works best if you hold the violet by the stem.
7. Spoon sugar very gently over the violet to coat it on all sides.
8. Lay the violet on a cookie sheet and very gently remove the stem.
9. Dry them in your 200 degree oven for 20 minutes.  Remove from oven and let them cool completely, and then store in an air tight container.

Even more beef stew!

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Beef stew must be catching!  After seeing Allison’s beef stew, and Emily’s homage to beef stew, well, I hauled out the three pounds of beef cubes from Natural Acres that I’ve been hoarding.

My stew differs from Allison’s and Emily’s in that it contains beer.  I’m convinced that everything is better with the addition of beer!  And as I like to support local farmers, I also like to support local breweries - I used a bottle of stout from Yards Brewery.

Also local: onions from Landisdale Farm, carrots from Tuscarora Coop, rosemary from Overbrook Herb Farm, flour from Daisy, homemade lamb stock from some bones from Jamison Farm, and garlic.

2 Tbsp. oil of your choice
3 lb. beef cubes/stew meat
2 c. chopped onion
4 garlic cloves, crushed
3 tsp. chopped rosemary
2 Tbsp sun-dried tomato paste
2 Tbsp flour
1 bottle of stout
14 oz beef or lamb stock
1 lb of carrots, cut into chunks

Heat oil in a large Dutch oven over medium-high heat.  Season beef with salt and pepper and brown beef [maybe 6 minutes is all you need].  Remove from pot and add onions, garlic, and herbs to the Dutch oven.  Season with salt and pepper; reduce heat to medium and saute about 4 or 5 minutes.  Add in paste and flour, stir for a minute.  Add beer; stir for a few minutes and scrape up any bits stuck to the bottom of the pot.

Add stock and beef; bring to a simmer.  Partially cover the Dutch oven, reduce heat to medium-low, and simmer for 45 minutes.  If the stew gets too thick, you can cut it with red wine.  Add carrots and simmer another 45 minutes.  Again, you can continue to cut the stew with red wine or more beer if it gets too thick or boils down too much..  Season with salt and pepper and eat up!

This stew is guaranteed to warm you up!  It sounds like we’re in for a few more cold days before Spring officially is sprung, so now might be a good time to try it out!

Ode to Buttermilk

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

I tend to think of the seasons affecting my diet strictly in terms of what local foods are available, but, really, the relationship is more subtle than that.  The seasons also prompt me to want to certain foods: a crisp fall morning makes me reach for a commensurately crisp, tart apple; the first warm days of spring have me looking for baby lettuces and asparagus; an oppressive summer day is alleviated by an heirloom tomato salad.  In the winter, I crave pureed and mashed root vegetable, meat stews, and freshly baked bread.  About fifteen minutes after slipping the dough into the oven, I can start to smell the baking, which soon permeates our small home.  Suddenly, gas-heated, forced air doesn’t seem so stale, and cold, dry hands will be soon be warmed by a steaming chunk - who can wait to slice?

Being a limited baker (both in skill and interest), I set out to improve my skill and deepen my reserve.  Thankfully, each of the three recipes I attempted was a success - not always a gaurantee when it comes to baking.  More importantly, in my third year of Farm to City’s Winter Harvest, I have finally discovered buttermilk.  I suppose I eschewed it in the past because I perceived it as having limited use and spoiling quickly.  Thankfully, I was wrong. 

In the first, instance, I made English muffins, straight out of the The Bread Bakers Apprentice. (An indispensable guide that has made me a much better baker than I was.)  Here, the buttermilk’s acidity melded with the salt and sugar of the dough, tasting like something between a savory muffin and a bread.  The second was buttermilk biscuits from the King Arthur Flour website, a perfect accompaniment to poached eggs and cottage bacon from Meadow Run Farm and sautéed spinach from Winter Harvest.  Here, the buttermilk was the defining ingredient: it’s creamy sharpness the most important factor.  The third was scones from the Metropolitan Bakery Cookbook, using half white flour and half spelt flour from the Fair Food Farmstand and butter and maple sugar also from Winter Harvest.  Although much sweeter than the previous uses, the buttermilk was equally fantastic. 

With Spring rapidly approaching, I may be losing the urge to bake such breads, but next November, I suspect the cold weather will prompt me again.

Mushroom Chinese Dumplings

We bought these beatiful oyster mushrooms (with a couple of trumpets) at Weaver’s Way Coop last week. 

We had some tenants many years ago from China, and they taught us how to make dumplings.  I was terrible at the rolling out of the dough into circles, so we long ago switched to bought dumpling wrappers, but even so, it’s a wonderful, cheap treat. 

For the filling, you can use pork (as we were taught), or veggies (as we use now, since we are now vegetarians).  Yan Heng and Qing were vague about amounts, so I will be, too!

Jiaozi (Gyoza) or Chinese Dumplings

Some mushrooms, oil, onion, ginger, soy sauce, an egg, some kind of greens (bok choy, kale, etc.) - dice, mix them all together, and then fill the wrappers. 

I’m afraid you’ll have to bear with the drawings I made in my cookbook for the next bit:

#1 Pinch top of wrapper together and push in from one side

#2 After pinching closed one flap, mash the other flap into the side of the dumpling.  Then repeat for the other side.

#3 The finished dumpling should be kind of like this (the little marks are pinch lines):

To cook them, boil up a bunch of water in a big pot, and put them in, many at a time (my recipe says 30, but I probably usually do half that at a time).  After the water boils again, add a cup or so of cold water.  Wait for it to boil, and add another cup of cold water.  When it boils again, take one out and test it.  This is all particularly important if your dumplings have raw pork in them, but it gets the veggie ones cooked nicely, too.

A couple of hints: 
—The more dumplings you wrap, the easier it gets.  When I started, the wrapping was the most overwhelming part, and now I’ve done it so often I think of it as the watch-TV-and-wrap-dumplings cozy part of the process.
—For the vegetarian version, I usually throw in some reconstituted TSP (textured soy protein) or okara (what remain after we make soy milk) to bind the mixture and give it a meaty texture.

Finally, I just wanted to note that dumplings in a restaurant cost about $1 per dumpling.  Half a pound of ground pork or a few mushrooms plus the rest of the very cheap mixture make about 60 dumplings.  We freeze the leftover ones (when there are any—think of it—as many dumplings as you want!) and M takes them for lunches.

Beef Stew to Soothe

Friday, February 29, 2008

As I was getting ready to head out into the cold winter air a few mornings ago, a noise from outside forced me to pause in the middle of what I was doing. Songbirds. Since the Winter Solstice in December, the shift of the daylight hours has been growing more perceptible each week, but to me there is no surer sign that spring is coming than the return of the songbird’s twitter outside my window or the sigh of a mourning dove as I walk to catch my train.

In Reading Terminal Market, the Chilean grapes, nectarines, peaches and plums are piled high in seductive, if stony, pyramids. Their presence is a reminder that just as the spring thaw has yet to reach Philadelphia, it must be high summer in some other part of the world. As tempting as they are, I know that their beauty is only skin deep and I pass them over with few exceptions, reminding myself that spring strawberries are but a few months away. Bracing myself against the lingering winter chill, my walk home makes me feel decidedly less optimistic that I will find signs of the new season around the corner.  Until I can wholeheartedly announce the arrival of Spring and her flowers, lettuces, and eventual asparagus, I will content myself and warm my kitchen with cold weather fare. Banishing the chill that seeps in at the edges of the poorly-sealed windows in our West Philly rental is this recipe for beef stew. Originally printed in Maxim “a mindless, but funny magazine for mindless, but funny, guys” and gradually tweaked and adapted by my father, this stew is remarkably good. The recipe dictates to braise the beef and roast the vegetables separately from one another, a vital cue that allows the vegetables to retain their textural integrity and even concentrates their flavor. Served over egg noodles, it is enough to satisfy if not the eternal longing for spring, than at least the more momentary longing for supper.

Rod Teel’s “Pot of Gold” Beef Stew
Adapted from Maxim magazine
This recipe is somewhat time and labor intensive so it’s not ideally suited to a weeknight supper. It does reheat beautifully however, so make a batch over the weekend and you’ll be able to enjoy more than a few weeknight suppers from it.

3 Tb. Canola or olive oil
1 cup flour
2 ½ cups beef chuck, cubed
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 small shallot or red onion, finely chopped
2 cups dry red wine
2 cups good beef stock
1 handful parsley, chopped
1 bay leaf
salt & pepper
spice rub (mix 1 teaspoon each granulated garlic, paprika, cayenne, salt, oregano, thyme, you will have some leftover)

2 cups carrots, cubed
1 cup parsnips, cubed
4 cloves garlic, peeled and quartered
3 large potatoes, cubed
1 ½ cups onions, diced
1 cup onion, large wedges
3 slices bacon, small dice
1 heaping tablespoon tomato paste
2 Tb. Butter
1 Lb. cremini or button mushrooms, quartered
¼ cup heavy cream
2 Tb. Flour

1. Preheat oven to 325º.
2. Heat oil in a Dutch Oven over moderate heat. Season 1 cup of flour with salt, pepper and 1 Tb. of spice rub. Season beef with salt, pepper, and spice rub. Dredge beef cubes in seasoned flour and brown on all sides in hot oil. Be careful not to overcrowd the oil or the meat will steam. Work in batches removing meat to a plate. When all meat is browned, add minced garlic, shallot and cook for a minute. Add meat back and pour over stock, wine, parsley and bay leaf. Cover and bake for two hours.
3. Once beef is in the oven, combine carrots, parsnip, potatoes, onion wedges and garlic chunks in a shallow roasting pan or baking sheet. Season with salt, pepper and spice rub and drizzle over a tablespoon of olive oil. Mix and spread out. Roast alongside the meat, uncovered, for 1 ½ to 2 hours, until tender. Remove when tender if beef is not yet finished.
4. Sauté bacon in a dry skillet until fat is rendered. Remove and set aside. Sauté diced onions in bacon fat until soft. Mix in tomato paste and bacon and cook, stirring for a minute.
5. Half-an-hour before the beef is due to be finished, stir in the bacon mixture, re-cover and roast for the remaining time.
6. Melt 1 Tb. butter in a large skillet (same one as the bacon is fine), and sauté the mushrooms over medium heat, seasoning them with salt and pepper until browned. Remove from skillet and set aside.
7. Add other Tb. butter to skillet and melt, sprinkling 2 Tb. flour over to make a light roux. Cook flour in butter, stirring, until it has turned a light caramel color. Add cream and ¾ liquid from the beef pot. Cook over medium-low heat, stirring, to make a thickened sauce.
8. Mix sauce, beef, roasted vegetables, and mushrooms into Dutch Oven to combine. Serve with egg noodles and additional fresh parsley, if you like.

Tofu Challenge:  Lemon Pepper Pasta

I think that this Lemon Pepper Baked Tofu is my favorite Fresh Tofu variety.  The flavor is light and crisp with a little bite, and like all of Fresh Tofu’s baked varieties, the texture is sublimely dense.

The subtleties of this lemon and pepper tofu can get lost in some dishes, so I usually eat it as simply as possible.  Diced into tiny cubes, it’s perfect for a lightly dressed salad, where the taste can shine.  For dinner, they blend perfectly in lemon pepper pasta.

I use a pretty basic and quick recipe; the ingredients are simple and it’s easy to time everything to finish up at once.  That, combined with a barely one-dollar-per-serving price, this dish could easily find it’s way into your weekly menu plan.

Lemon Pepper Tofu and Pasta
serves 6

1 package (7.5 oz) Fresh Tofu’s Lemon Pepper Tofu
1 lb. angel hair pasta
1/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon olive oil
1 1/2 lemons
1/3 cup chopped parsley
2 teaspoons plus a dash black pepper
1 teaspoon kosher salt
Lemon zest for garnish
Parsley for garnish

Cut lemon pepper tofu into 1/4” cubes.  Heat tablespoon of oil in a frying pan, add tofu and sprinkle with a dash of pepper.  Allow to brown over medium/high heat, tossing often.  Right before removing from heat, squeeze juice of 1/2 lemon into pan, toss and cook for 30 to 60 seconds.  Keep warm.

Meanwhile, bring a large pot of water to a boil. Add pasta and cook for three to five minutes, or until done; drain.

In a small bowl, combine 1/4 cup olive oil, juice of one lemon, parsley and black pepper; stir well.  Toss with pasta. 

Serve pasta with tofu cubes on top, garnish with parsley and lemon zest, pepper and salt to taste.  Serve hot or cold.

Many lemon pepper pasta recipes call for basil rather than parsley, which I plan on trying this summer when the basil comes in from our CSA or garden.  I’d also love to try this tofu over VeganYumYum’s spicy lemon pepper fettuccine or with this lemon pepper cous-cous.  Any non-local veggies you find in lemon pepper recipes could easily be replaced with seasonal ones.  Except of course for the lemon.  Maybe Nicole’s Tuscarora Organic Growers Co-op will come through with some lemony citrus for us?

And now, all this light and airy lemon pepper herb talk has got me jonesing for spring something fierce.  Drool!

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Jelly Roll Call

Friday, February 22, 2008

When I moved to an on-campus apartment in college and finally had a kitchen, my parents gave me The Good Housekeeping Illustrated Cookbook, a wonderful basic cookbook that I still use regularly.  It’s got some leftover-from-the-fifties recipes (pickled shrimp in a crystalline ice bowl?!?), but for any ordinary food like pancakes or cream of mushroom soup or lasagna, it’s useful.  One of its best sections is the one on desserts, so when I realized that we were going to have too much jam left over this season, I went looking for a jelly roll recipe.  Jelly roll is sticky, but it is also soft and squishy and what my Dad used to make for us to eat with tea when I was a little girl. 

I used our “black and blue” jam—blackberries and blueberries we picked last summer.  The other local ingredients were maple sugar, honey (in the jam), and eggs. 

You can see a peek of the maple sugar and the egg yolks behind the bowl of lovely frothy egg whites.  This jelly roll also has flour, baking powder, salt, vanilla, and confectioners’ sugar, none of which I had local. 

It came out well, not as sweet as you might imagine, given all the different kinds of sugar! 

A Simple Gnocchi

Monday, February 11, 2008

Velvet-textured and feather-light, a plate of sauced gnocchi seems, to me, a perfect winter dish.  Whether dressed in a chunky, wintry tomato sauce with carrots, celery and rosemary, coated in melted gorgonzola and vodka, or simply tossed with parmesan, browned butter and sage, gnocchi is beautifully accommodating to an amazing variety of sauces (these are just my three favorites). 

This is not to say that I’ve found gnocchi to be the easiest thing to master.  On the contrary, I failed miserably at least a dozen teams before coming up with something passable.  Through much trial-and-error (mostly error), I did stumble upon a few simple things to improve consistency and hasten the process.  One, despite the possibility of food mills, I steadfastly refuse to use anything other than my ricer.  It may take a little longer, but the result is always airy and dry, not pasty and wet.  Second, as sacriligious as this sounds, I peel the potatoes and cut them into uniform pieces.  This quickens the cooking time and makes it more uniform (it’s also much easier to throw them in the ricer.)  Finally, I don’t bother shaping them against the tines of a fork.  Yes, I know it’s supposed to improve how they cook and “grab” the sauce, but I can’t be bothered.  I roll them out, cut them, and throw them into the boiling water.  If I were to add another step, I think the whole thing would seem to cumbersome.

For years, I followed Mario Batali’s recipe of 3 pounds of russet potatoes, 2 cups of flour, and 1 egg.  However, I recently discovered Marcella Hazan’s version from her seminal Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking.  Unlike Batali’s, there are no eggs (which, she insists, creates a heaviness in the gnocchi), a greater ratio of flour-to-potato, and, most importantly, “old” waxy potatoes are used.  I was daunted a protein-less gnocchi.  How would it hold together?  What would the texture be?  Would they dissolve in the boiling water?  Lured by the possibility of even lighter gnocchi, I took one-and-a-half pounds of kennebec potatoes from my recent Winter Harvest delivery, one-and-a-half cups of King Arthur Flour and created this.

I am not certain if they really are lighter, but they were certainly easier to make.  They also appeal to my sense that a recipe should be as simple and have as few ingredient as possible.  Though, I don’t suppose it’s fair to call that “my” sense: it’s just Italian. 

The humble storage apple…and a cake in it’s honor.

Thursday, January 31, 2008

I, like so many others out there in the wide world, eagerly anticipate my monthly issue of Gourmet. Every day when I arrive home from work, I do the four-limbed dance of unlocking the door and carrying the bags as I attempt to step into the house and simultaneously prevent the cat from darting out of it. All the while my gloves are clamped between my teeth and I’m craning my neck to see if Gourmet has made it’s lovely, if not glamorous, arrival; unceremoniously folded around the bills and shoved through the letter slot.

Every once in a while, it has. And like so many other SEPTA commuters I use my train time to read and to daydream: “What shall I cook this evening?” “This weekend?” “In springtime?”

The truth is that this is a difficult time of year for the local-foodies. It seems that every dream recipe is calling for a different season from the one we’re in. Though Groundhog Day is yet to come, I’m betting on more than a few more weeks of Winter.

In the February issue of Gourmet, there is yet another example of learning to cook differently, this time from Lyon-born Algerian chef, Farid Zadi. “It’s easy to say, ‘Use ripe produce’...but what to do in February with turnips from storage?” Or apples? Or those carrots sprouting in the crisper? Zadi’s answer is to braise his turnips in butter (and what an answer it is!) and then sprinkle them with garlicky breadcrumbs, parsley and poppy seeds.

The best answer I’ve yet come up with for my storage apples is…cake! Once the novelty of applesauce has run out (usually mid-December), I have found no better way to console those bruised, wrinkling, steadfast apples than to slip them into a soothing cloak of cake batter. It’s a well known fact that butter and sugar can make up for a multitude of shortcomings. Plus, turning on the oven warms up the house!

The following recipe is my own not terribly sweet version of an apple bundt cake. They say that you should use firm apples for baking, but I generally use whatever kind I have hangin’ around and lookin’ sorry. We don’t discriminate in this household. Crispin not so crisp? Get in there! Macoun seen better days? You too! And so forth.

Those carrots sprouting in the crisper? We’ll tackle them on tomorrow’s subway ride.

Breakfast Apple Bundt Cake
3-4 apples, peeled, cored and diced
1 Tb. sugar
1 ts. cinnamon
3 Cups white flour, sifted (I’ve used two parts white to one part spelt and found the result to be slightly bitter, but go to town! It’s your cake, after all.)
3 ts. baking powder (or 3/4 ts. baking soda and 1 1/2 ts. cream of tartar if you’d like to make your own baking powder)
1/2 ts. salt
1 1/2 cups sugar (white, maple or brown- whatever combination you like)
1 cup clarified butter (or 1/2 cup butter and 1/2 cup yogurt)
1/4 cup orange juice (replace with just under 1/4 cup apple cider with a dash of apple cider vinegar)
2 1/2 ts. vanilla extract
4 eggs, gently beaten

1. Preheat oven to 350ºF. Butter and flour your bundt pan if you have one. Or your 9” cake pans if you don’t.
2. Mix the apples with 1 Tb. sugar and 1 ts. cinnamon and set aside.
3. Whisk together dry ingredients in a large bowl and the clarified butter, eggs, juice and vanilla in another, smaller bowl.
4. Fold all ingredients together, gently incorporating wet into dry, followed by apples into batter.
5. Pour into your prepared pan(s) and bake 45-60 minutes turning once to ensure even coloring.
6. Allow to cool for at least an hour in the pan.
7. Place a plate over the pan and invert to release. Sprinkle powdered sugar over top to emulate snow flurries outside.
8. Cut hearty slices and enjoy for breakfast.

Home fries!

Monday, January 28, 2008

This eclectic collection of Blooming Glen Farm potatoes served fabulously as a yummy breakfast treat on a chilly weekend morning.

So often, I get a little panicky at the thought of actually using my preserved food. I’m pretty sure I get this trait from my dad. He recently admitted to buying canned tomatoes from the market. An appalling revelation due to the fact that a quick look in his pantry reveals oh, approximately four hundred quarts of garden tomatoes he jarred this summer.

I know. I don’t understand it, either. I mean, I get it, I know what he’s thinking—because I’m thinking the same thing—but, it’s still completely illogical. I see Nicole mentions the guilt of using frozen veggies in a previous Farm to Philly post. That’s encouraging, because surely we’re not the only ones… right?

Anyway, somehow I managed to let it all go, and use some potatoes I’ve been hoarding from last season’s CSA shares. I even broke out some frozen peppers and greens, too!

Home fries
Serves 4

3 tablespoons olive oil
1 sliced onion
2 cups julienned peppers (use your preferred combination of mild-to-spicy; bell, poblano, jalapeño, et. al.)
1 packed cup sliced or torn-up greens (kale, spinach, collards)
3 cloves chopped garlic
1 tablespoon paprika
Salt and freshly ground pepper
4 cups potatoes, sliced or cut into 1/2-inch cubes

Heat oil in a skillet over medium heat. Add onion and saute until soft. Add peppers and garlic and cook for 1 minute. Add paprika and cook for 1 minute. Add potatoes and season with salt and pepper to taste. Cover and cook until almost cooked through. Remove cover and continue cooking for 5 to 10 minutes until golden brown.

These are great sprinkled with some fresh chopped herbs right before serving, I just didn’t have any on hand.

Note too, especially as we find ourselves merely days before Farm to Philly’s exciting and sure-to-be-thrilling Tofu Challenge Month, that these ‘taters are great served with tofu scrambler. Either side-by-side on a plate, or as companions inside a yummy breakfast burrito

Did You Do It?

Thursday, January 10, 2008

Way back in September of last year(!), I wrote a post about drying your own sweet corn, an age-old method of preserving the summer’s harvest in a manner that didn’t take up nearly as much space (or require any fancy equipment) as canning or freezing.  It was something my grandmother had told me about, a story you can read here if you’d like to learn more about food traditions in my Pennsylvania Dutch farming family. 

Now the question is, did you do it?  Did you dry your own corn?  I hope the answer is “yes”, because I have a delightful dish to share that features that crunchy dried corn.  The resulting chewy-but-not-soft texture is very unique and compliments the rather nutty flavor nicely. 

OLD-FASHIONED CREAMY (dried) CORN

2 c. dried sweet corn
2 1/4 c. fat free milk
1 1/2 c. heavy cream
2 t. sugar
2 T. butter
dash of cayenne pepper
freshly ground nutmeg
generous pinch of salt and freshly ground black pepper
3 or 4 strips of cooked (soy) bacon, crumbled
1/4 t. dried marjoram


Place corn in a large heavy saucepan and stir in milk and heavy cream.  Cover and refrigerate overnight.

When ready to use, stir in the sugar, butter, cayenne, nutmeg, salt and pepper. Bring to a boil.  Reduce heat to low and simmer, stirring occasionally, for 35-40 minutes until the liquid is absorbed.  Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary.  Place in warmed serving dish and top with crumbled bacon and marjoram.  Serve immediately.

Curried Squash and Potato Soup

Monday, January 07, 2008

One of my favorite winter vegetables is butternut squash, and one of my favorite ways to prepare it is in soup, especially now that we’ve had some actual winter weather.  Last week, I made a batch of soup with squash, potatoes, and carrots, which came out well enough to inspire envy among my coworkers.  The measurements for spices are all approximate—I never really measure things in cooking—but I think the proportions are about right.

Curried Squash and Potato Soup

1 onion, chopped into squares
2 large cloves of garlic, minced
1 square inch of ginger, minced
1 medium butternut squash, cubed
2 medium potatoes, cubed
3 carrots, chopped
3 cups of vegetable stock
1/2 T cumin seeds
1/2 T brown mustard seeds
1-1/2 T cumin
1 T coriander
1 t cardamon
1-1/2 T garam masala
1/4 t salt
1/2 t black pepper
1 dried chile
2 T dried parsley (approx. measure before crushing)
1 T turmeric
1/2 t fenugreek

Heat the oil with cumin seeds and mustard seeds.  When the seeds start to pop, add the onion; when the onion is almost clear, add the garlic and then the ginger.  Start adding ground spices at this point.  Add the potatoes, dried chile, squash, and stock to cover.  Simmer for a few minutes, mostly covered, and then add the carrots.  Adjust spices to taste, and simmer until the veggies are fork-soft, adding stock if necessary.  Purée and serve with a slice of homemade bread. 

Makes approximately 6 main-dish servings.

 

I’m fond of soup that I can eat with a fork, but it wouldn’t be hard to make this thinner if your tastes are different.