Devour this

My sweet potato (and egg and chocolate and peanut butter) nights

I love my food blog.  I promise, I really do.  It may not seem like it, what with the lengthy lapses between posts, but rest assured it stems not from lost love, but merely sheer laziness.  I believe I suffer from the worst combination of oxymoronic actions: dogged procrastination and uncertain guilt.  I am one of those perpetual, eternal, steno notebook-wielding List Makers constantly adding to a mile-long chart of duties "TO DO TODAY."  You can bet your bottom dollar there are plenty of highlighters, inked stars, underlines, and boxes involved.  I get a rush when I strike a line through a completed task.  But there are many items on the list that survive from week to week, those I put off until I either resign them to never be completed or try to pretend I never really wanted to do them in the first place. This all leads to much guilt.  I realize the lists may be the end of me, but I always return to them.  I still have love for them.

But back to the point.  My food blog.  Which I love. Here we are, it's a new day (night), a new post, and I have new (to me) food to write about.
In honor of the final NCAA game (whose acronym, to be completely forthright, I have honestly mistaken for the NAACP, who hasn't, right? Right?), I wanted to make some yummy snacks for my friends.  The whole thing started with onion rings.  I've been craving onion rings ever since I happened upon a recipe for these Buttermilk Onion Rings and knowing I had buttermilk just waiting in my fridge since I made this Blackberry Jam Cake with Toasted Pecans last weekend (Happy Birthday, Jeff!):

So to go with the onion rings, I thought I'd make some sweet potato biscuits since I bought some yams from Trader Joe's the other week and have been on the verge of forgetting about them (thank goodness they're on my grocery inventory list -- I'll go into that another time).
Orangette had a fantastic-sounding recipe for these biscuits and she turned them into amazing sandwiches to boot!  After I spotted her noted Honeycup mustard on my favorite neighborhood store's shelf, it was all over.  I put the Sierra Nevada Porter mustard back (another time!) and set about with some good ham and threw in good cheddar for good measure.  And since I wanted to use all of my sweet potatoes, I increased the recipe by half.  Here's a peek at my basic fraction calculations.  And yes, I'm well aware of my nerdiness.  Math is so not my strong suit.  I was all confused.

But I had great fun making the biscuits, especially patting out the dough.  It was quite soft and yielding and the most beautiful rich burned orange color.

The biscuits loaded up with ham, cheddar, and the "uniquely sharp" honey mustard were a sweet, tangy, buttery success.

I also wanted to make deviled eggs.  Going for the whole southern shebang.  I used elements from this recipe and this one (by the way, I've become lovingly dependent on Simply Recipes.  Elise is Awesome). 

And then, being the good Maryland girl that I am, I liberally sprinkled the tops with Old Bay seasoning.  Talk about kicking it up a notch.  Scrumptious.  These were a hit.

Ah,and dessert.  What snackfest would be complete without brownies?  I saw this recipe for Peanut Butter and Fudge Brownies with Salted Peanuts and that was that. I had the chocolate out and chopped in no time.

It was fun to make, no mixer involved this time (except for the incredibly! delicious! frosting) -- each element was whisked together one at a time by yours truly and it felt good to whip that glossy chocolate goodness around in the bowl, feeling each granule of sugar crunch underneath my wrist.

And the result?  Heavenly Peanut Butter and Fudge Brownies with (50% less salt--Trader Joe's, I love you) Salted Peanuts.

You might be wondering, Hey, where's the picture of the onion rings?  I thought she said that's how this whole thing started.  Well, they may have set the wheels in motion, but those rings didn't materialize.   They're on my list of things To Do tomorrow.

P.S. Oh, and K.U. won.  Yay, Kansas!  (I used to live there, too.)

My First Meringue

I've been telling everyone this recently, so I might as well tell you, too:  I feel as though in the past couple of months, my mind has grown a thick layer of mold.  It's a very visual thing to me.  My brain, all ropey and reddish-brownish-grayish, sprouting irregular-shaped patches of fuzzy moss-colored fungi.  It's kind of disturbing. However, I'm feeling like the mold has been disappearing, as though a mental spray of Tilex (poisonous stuff, but I tell you what: it gets out carpet stains like nobody's business!) stopped the growth in its tracks and forced it to recede.  Thank goodness.  It's because of this that I am even able to write about it now.  The clouds are parting and I'm starting to feel less foggy. I'm sure it's an amalgamation of events and thoughts that caused the mold to form; I'm just glad it's going away so I'm not going to spend any more time right now thinking about it.

Tonight, I am thinking about a pie contest.  Yes, another one. This one is a company pie contest, put on by a friend and co-worker, Ava. The rules are straightforward: make a pie, one with a from-scratch crust.  No cookie crumb crusts, so my first thought of banana cream pie went out the window (it's really best with graham cracker crusts, right?).  I thought about doing a filling with rhubarb, although I've never cooked with the stuff (although as a kid I used to munch on it raw when it grew behind my house - the thought of its tartness actually just sent a ripple down my spine). But at the farmers' market this weekend, there were no pinky-red stalks to be found. I still don't know what kind of pie to make, but I am practicing a little pie action tonight.  Of the lemon meringue sort.  Another first for me.  I'm using this Williams-Sonoma Baking book and what a beauty of a book it is.

I started with the Flaky Pie Crust, which uses both butter and shortening.  If you recall my other pie contest, I followed the advice of New York Times food columnist Melissa Clark to go with an all-butter crust (a butter/lard crust was recommended first and foremost, but I'm just not ready to go there). Clark said the shortening in the crust caused an "unpleasant greasy film left on the palate."  Not what I'm looking for, but the recipe called for about 1/3 shortening to butter so I remained optimistic.  I made the dough in my KitchenAid stand mixer (I love how the WS book has directions for mixing by hand, stand mixer or food processor) and it was a bit crumbly (most of my doughs are, I haven't figured out why yet), but I gathered into a disk, stuck it in the fridge, and hoped for the best. 

An hour later, I rolled it out.  Not an easy task.  I was a bit worried as the dough was coming apart and I kept pasting it back together and rolling over it with the pin to seal its many cracks.  But it was fairly successful and I really enjoyed rolling it around the pin to transfer it to the pie pan.  It was my first time using that trick and it worked so well!  I pressed and pinched and the dough ended up looking pretty decent.  Yeah, I couldn't stop grinning as I was cleaning up my workspace after putting the crust in the freezer.  It's the little things.

Pre-baking the crust went smoothly.  Although I did forget about the pie shell while I was making the filling (this always happens, I forget about it if it's not in front of my face), luckily my roommate Erin came in and made a sniffing noise, indicating that something smelled good.  I pulled out the golden crust just in time.

It was a wee bit difficult trying to stir the lemon filling while making the meringue at the same time (the recipe note said to put the meringue directly on top of the hot filling to avoid having the meringue "weep." I have no idea what a "weeping" meringue* is.)

*I just Googled "weeping meringue" and it's a good thing I did!  I had my LMP in the fridge and had to promptly remove it.  Apparently, meringues do not do well in refrigerators, and suffer under tight wrapping.  And here I was thinking the tighter, the better!  Whew, disaster averted. (Now it's in my beautiful cake stand, as you saw above.)

Luckily I had my friend Gil to stir the filling while I whipped those egg whites silly. It may have been my first meringue, but luckily, Williams-Sonoma had my back.  They had fantastic close-up shots to show me exactly what I was looking for. I was hoping these were stiff peaks.

The meringue turned out awesome.  I poured it atop the piping hot lovely yellow filling and it glopped on, all glossy and proud.  It was so much fun to gently nudge the billowy pile into shape and Gil showed me how to use the back of a spoon to create the swirls and peaks.  We wanted to swim around in the pie; it looked so marshmallowy fluffy and inviting!

Just as I slid the pie into the oven for a short bake, I realized I left out the two teaspoons of lemon zest in the filling.  There were my halved and emptied lemon shells on the counter, lying patiently next to my microplane.  Ah, well.  It was not to be a zesty pie.  But it was a beauty.

And, actually, it was quite zingy just the same.  The fresh zest may have given it more oomph, more za za zoo, but it was quite nice slightly muted, with some sprinkles of zest on top instead.

Will this be my winning pie for the upcoming contest?  I don't think so.  But it was good practice. And a sweet way to welcome spring. (Did you hear that, spring?..)

I'll make you a cake

Making birthday cakes for friends has become my own little tradition.  I'm one of those freaks who enjoys baking just as much as cooking as cooking just as much as baking.  From what people tell me, many prefer one or the other.  I adore both.  My sweet tooth never grew to its full potential, but it's present.  I like to share my baking creations, and what better way to express friendship than with birthday cake?  Throw my new Kitchen Aid into the mix, and I'm covered with batter and ready to whip.

My go-to cake book has been this one:

The recipes are easy to follow and so far, all have turned great.  Full disclosure: I work for the publishing company that publishes this book.  But I don't give cookbooks preferential treatment.  In fact, I pretty much love them all.  Except for the insufferable ones.  (I'll be nice and won't link.)  For my friend Ryan's birthday, I made Sour Cream Chocolate Cake Layers and slathered them with Creamy Peanut Butter Frosting.  I must admit, the cake layers themselves didn't have enough chocolate oomph for my taste so I sprinkled some semi-sweet chips on top.

I didn't say it was always pretty.  The cake came out lopsided and you can see I didn't put nearly enough frosting between the layers.  But those December birthdays will be happy I had the practice.

Shake those peaches

 

I am so happy to have my first comment ever!  It's on my peaches and cream post, if you're interested.  Since Andrea's into peaches and I still am, too, here's a peek at another scrumdiddlyumptious summer peach dessert I made.  I took inspiration from this Lemon-Spice Bread Pudding with Sauteed Peaches, and used a little less butter, cream, and sugar, and a lot more vanilla bean.  I had these gorgeous white peaches from a weekend trip to Pennsylvania and they were as fragrant and flavorful as any peach I've ever bit into.  So I started with a beautiful crusty day-old loaf and hacked away with my pathetic serrated knife (anyone have recommendations for a good bread knife?).

After cubing the bread, I tossed with melted butter and baked until golden, toasty, and glistening.  You can imagine how good just those two ingredients with a little heat underneath smelled.  Unfortunately, I didn't capture a good image of the bread all brown and perfect.  It's still a little underdone here, but you get the drift...

Meanwhile, I steeped the milk and cream (mmm, cream..) with a big ol' vanilla bean and ginger, cinnamon, and cardamom.  I scraped the vanilla bean seeds as much as I could, but ended up plopping the whole bean in to steep.  It was a smart move.  After tossing the toasted bread cubes and egg mixture in to soak up, the smell entrenched in that bread was unbelievable.

After baking for another 50 minutes, the bread pudding and sauteed fruit made the whole house smell like a sunny meadow of butter and peaches.  Oh, summer love...

Just a spoonful of cream...

ILoveCream.  Its silky milky flavor and texture.  Its richness, soulfulness, and deliciousness.  I've taken to pouring it over everything -- my Summer Corn Pie, (burned) Peach Crumble, even tried it with my Trader Joe's O's (shhh...). 
That up there is my (burned) Peach Crumble, with heavy cream luxuriously resting on top and cheekily swimming around juicy peach goodness.  I used an America's Test Kitchen, or whatever the Cook's Illustrated affiliate is called, recipe for foolproof Peach Crumble (all of their recipes are supposedly foolproof, although I don't see how they can be so incognizant about the foolhardiness of our species) and while the recipe didn't fail, it did falter.  The peaches were succulent, sweet, and tart, but the crumble was crunchier and browner than I'd expected.  Did this have something to do with me watching The Flight of the Conchords while it was baking?  Hmmm...But the cream made it all better.  That cream has my back.

The First Recipe I Concocted by Myself Pie

Or Saturday Morning Farmers' Market Pie.  After inspiration from the movie Waitress last week, my friend Gil and I vowed to devise our own pies this weekend.  We met her aunt at Union Square Greenmarket before 9 A.M. and started our quest for the best summer pie ingredients.  Gil knew she wanted something sweet, and I was contemplating a savory pie. 

The market provided a spectacular feast for the eyes.  Piles of shiny orange (and purple!) carrots, mounds of fresh green herbs, baskets of juicy berries.  Gil settled on blackberries and peaches; meanwhile, I bought a hodge-podge of ingredients:  feathery fresh dill, pungent basil, sturdy Rocombole garlic, magenta Bull's Blood beets, round, ripe tomatoes, perky ears of bi-color corn...

After arriving back home, I surveyed my selections and settled on an idea that had kept resurfacing:  Summer Corn Pie.  The pie crust came from from Epicurious.com (my first online go-to spot for recipes) -- it happened to be the "Best-Ever Pie Crust" from the July 2007 Bon Appétit magazine.  Is it the best ever?  It's pretty close with an extremely flaky texture and rich, buttery flavor.  For the filling, I cut approximately 2 1/2 cups of corn off the cob (about 3 plump ears), and mixed them with about 3 tablespoons melted butter, 1/3 cup flour, teaspoon salt, couple teaspoons sugar, freshly snipped basil, 4 robust eggs, and just over 2 cups cream-topped milk.  A few stirs and into a 350-degree oven for 45 minutes.  Top with rounded scoop of ricotta or pour some cream over top (I've been doing this with everything lately!).  Served with sliced ripe tomato on the side, the pie is satisfying, simple, and summery.  And there you have it.

Jac and Gil's First Pie-Baking Experience Pies.  Check out Gil's pie at myglutenfreeworld.blogspot.com.

All the World's a Muffin

I've been busy making muffins.  That's my excuse.  Most recently, banana walnut with loads of freshly grated, spicy nutmeg.  Before that, blueberry with piles of zippy, fresh lemon zest.  What next?  Contemplating something with apples, but I want something Spring-ish.  Will let you know what I come up with.  I've been consulting Carole Bloom's Essential Baker and it's been working quite well.  I particularly like how the equipment needed is listed at the beginning of the recipe.  That mise en place really helps --
Speaking of French mastery, time for bedtime reading...a biography of Julia Child by Laura Shapiro.  I love how I can hear Julia's unforgettable voice in my head...