Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Green Cuisine
My new article on the sustainability movement in culinary education came out today. This was a fun job from (local, sustainable) soup to (organic, homegrown) nuts.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Green Dreams
Ho hum, another year, another garden. A snowy day in late February feels like the perfect time to start planning.
This year I'm going to be strict about growing in complementary relationship to the farmer's market. In other words, if I can buy the produce locally and affordably (and organically, of course) then I'm better off supporting the farmers than growing it myself. That means crossing off several plants we've grown in the past: beans, peas, lettuce, kale, tomatoes, corn, squash... the list goes on.
Instead, I'd like to grow more of what we do well and use completely (garlic, herbs, rhubarb, and berries) with a couple unusual additions. I've written before about my desire to grow saffron crocus, and now we have concrete plans to put in the corms this summer. John still wants to grow hops for beer, but those will probably still wait a bit.
The big news is that we're seriously considering a beehive for the backyard. We have the great good fortune to have an experienced beekeeper, Perry Brandt, down the street who has offered to take me to visit his hives and help me get a feel for things. I have my eye on a top bar hive. If everything goes according to plan, in 2-3 years I'll be producing my own saffron honey. Who says I don't have a Martha Stewart complex?
This year I'm going to be strict about growing in complementary relationship to the farmer's market. In other words, if I can buy the produce locally and affordably (and organically, of course) then I'm better off supporting the farmers than growing it myself. That means crossing off several plants we've grown in the past: beans, peas, lettuce, kale, tomatoes, corn, squash... the list goes on.
Instead, I'd like to grow more of what we do well and use completely (garlic, herbs, rhubarb, and berries) with a couple unusual additions. I've written before about my desire to grow saffron crocus, and now we have concrete plans to put in the corms this summer. John still wants to grow hops for beer, but those will probably still wait a bit.
The big news is that we're seriously considering a beehive for the backyard. We have the great good fortune to have an experienced beekeeper, Perry Brandt, down the street who has offered to take me to visit his hives and help me get a feel for things. I have my eye on a top bar hive. If everything goes according to plan, in 2-3 years I'll be producing my own saffron honey. Who says I don't have a Martha Stewart complex?
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Macadamia Chocolate Bliss
These cookies are more delicious than love itself. And given the protein in the nut butter, far more nourishing. Happy Valentine's Day, y'all.
Ingredients
2 1/2 cups flour
1 1/4 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 large egg
1 large egg yolk
1 tablespoon vanilla (yes, that is a whompload of vanilla)
1 cup macadamia nut butter (hazelnut also works well here)
12 tablespoons (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 1/3 cup packed brown sugar
6 1/2 to 7 ounces dark chocolate, broken into small chunks (I whack up a couple bars of Scharffen Berger with a hammer--very satisfying!)
Directions
Put a rack in the upper third of the oven and preheat to 350 degrees F. Butter cookie sheets. Whisk the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt together. In a separate bowl, beat together the nut butter, butter, and brown sugar. Add the egg, egg yolk, and vanilla, and beat until thoroughly combined.
Stir the flour mixure into the nut butter mixture until well integrated. Add chocolate chunks and blend until evenly mixed. Using your hands, form balls of about 1 inch each, flatten slightly, and put on cookie sheet about 2 inches apart. Bake 13-15 minutes or until just browned. Makes about 3 dozen.
Ingredients
2 1/2 cups flour
1 1/4 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 large egg
1 large egg yolk
1 tablespoon vanilla (yes, that is a whompload of vanilla)
1 cup macadamia nut butter (hazelnut also works well here)
12 tablespoons (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 1/3 cup packed brown sugar
6 1/2 to 7 ounces dark chocolate, broken into small chunks (I whack up a couple bars of Scharffen Berger with a hammer--very satisfying!)
Directions
Put a rack in the upper third of the oven and preheat to 350 degrees F. Butter cookie sheets. Whisk the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt together. In a separate bowl, beat together the nut butter, butter, and brown sugar. Add the egg, egg yolk, and vanilla, and beat until thoroughly combined.
Stir the flour mixure into the nut butter mixture until well integrated. Add chocolate chunks and blend until evenly mixed. Using your hands, form balls of about 1 inch each, flatten slightly, and put on cookie sheet about 2 inches apart. Bake 13-15 minutes or until just browned. Makes about 3 dozen.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Horchata
A couple foodie friends and I are putting together a Mexican potluck tomorrow, and I volunteered to make horchata. Which I've never done before. (But has that ever stopped me?) Horchata is the perfect drink to quench the fires of a spicy salsa--the starchy rice soaks heat off your tongue just like a tortilla, and the sweet, bland, milky liquid washes the oils right down your throat.
To my dismay, however, I quickly discovered that's there's no real consensus on how to make horchata or even what the ingredients are--although nearly every recipe I looked at included rice, cinnamon, vanilla, and some sort of sugar.
So what's a cook to do? Experiment, experiment, experiment, I say. And sure enough, after a couple of spectacular failures (pretty sure you're supposed to drink it, not eat it!) I hit upon a winning hybrid of the many recipes that tempted me. In the end it was really pretty easy--provided you have a spice grinder, which I do. Here's what I came up with:
Green Betty's Gringa Horchata
Ingredients
1 C rice (You're going to grind it anyway, so does it really matter what kind? I think not. I used basmati.)
1 cinnamon stick, hammered into shards
8 C water
1 can (300 mL) sweetened condensed milk
1 t vanilla
1 t ground cinnamon
Directions
Grind your rice in a spice grinder or food processor to cornmeal consistency, cover with water, add your cinnamon stick shards, and let sit for about 12 hours. Strain the liquid through cheesecloth and add sweetened condensed milk, vanilla, and ground cinnamon. Serve cold over ice. Add rum if the situation calls for it. ;-)
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Soup Tales
Here at Green Betty's house we’ve been cooking and baking our way through children’s literature—recent incarnations have included lemon meringue pie (ours sported a walnut/brown butter/fleur de sel crust), carrot soup, and morning cake, to name a few.
I realized recently that my five year old's delight in making the stuff of stories could be turned to my advantage. So the other day, after deciding to make a saag for dinner, I told him a gnome tale.
Rinky, Dinky, and Sly Go to Goa
Every gnome loves a mermaid-laden, white sand beach, not to mention buffets that feature vindaloos. So one day, the gnomes of Lunenburg decided to pack up and head to Goa. (That's in India, y'all.)
They couldn't afford the plane fare, so they packed themselves up in a box and had their Uncle Googly mail it to a classy resort. It took a couple weeks to arrive, but they were comfortable in their crate--Rinky'd had the foresight to stock up on historical fiction (every gnome's favorite read) for the trip, and jerky treats were abundant.
After a few days of spicy shrimp, spicy fish, spicy pork, spicy fruit, and spicy rice, the gnomes were ready for something a little milder. They sampled some north Indian saag--a delightful concotion of spinach, yogurt, broth, and tasty-but-not-incendiary spices.
As an added bonus, when gnomes eat saag it gives them a burst of Popeye-like strength! Rinky, Dinky, and Sly used theirs to pick up an elephant. (They had to ask the elephant to hold one of her feet up, since there were only three of them.) Unfortunately, the saag wore off mid-trick and the elephant came crashing down. That's the last time she does a favour for gnomes.
This incident was the first in what eventually developed into an epic tale of the gnomes' culinary adventures overseas--but the rest, as they say, is a story for another time.
There is nothing Charlie would like better than to pick up an elephant, of course, so he begged me to make saag. I modified the recipe to make a soup of it, and now he’s guaranteed to slurp it with gusto every time. If only I'd caught on sooner.
Saag Soup (aka Swamp Soup)
Ingredients
2 T butter
1 onion, finely minced
6 cloves of garlic, pressed or minced
2 t ginger powder
2 t ground coriander
1/2 t turmeric
1/2 t cayenne
1 lb baby spinach leaves
2 1/2 C chicken stock (see recipe below)
1 1/2 t salt
1 C yogurt
Directions
Heat the butter in a large saucepan on medium. Add minced onions and salt and sauté until the onions are translucent. Add the garlic and spices and sauté for another two minutes.
Stir in the stock and spinach and bring to a boil. Reduce heat slightly and simmer for ten minutes or until spinach is thoroughly cooked but still a springy shade of green (if it reminds you of the military, you've gone too far). Remove from heat and blend, either with an immersion blender (my fave) or by processing into a stand blender or food processor then returning to the pan. Simmer the pureé another couple minutes, then add yogurt, adjust seasonings if warranted, and serve.
Hint: For good quality spices at a reasonable price, try an Indian grocery store. Mine come from Indian Groceries in Halifax. Great place.
Chicken Stock
To make chicken stock, first roast a chicken (organic and local if you can get/afford it). After you've stripped the meat from the carcass, put the entire carcass in a crock pot or stock pot and fill in the empty spaces with vegetables--to make stock for this dish, I recommend keeping it simple with just roughly chopped onion (2 cups) and peeled, whole garlic cloves (2 bulbs). Throw in a healthy pinch of salt and just cover with water. Add half a cup of white vinegar (this will leach the calcium from the bones, making for a more nutritious stock.) Bring the whole mess to a boil, then simmer, covered, for 3 hours (stock pot) to 5 hours (crock pot). Remove the bones and big chunks, then strain the broth through cheesecloth (I get mine at the dollar store). Chill in the fridge for a few hours, strain off the fat that rises to the top, and you're good to go.
I realized recently that my five year old's delight in making the stuff of stories could be turned to my advantage. So the other day, after deciding to make a saag for dinner, I told him a gnome tale.
Rinky, Dinky, and Sly Go to Goa
Every gnome loves a mermaid-laden, white sand beach, not to mention buffets that feature vindaloos. So one day, the gnomes of Lunenburg decided to pack up and head to Goa. (That's in India, y'all.)
They couldn't afford the plane fare, so they packed themselves up in a box and had their Uncle Googly mail it to a classy resort. It took a couple weeks to arrive, but they were comfortable in their crate--Rinky'd had the foresight to stock up on historical fiction (every gnome's favorite read) for the trip, and jerky treats were abundant.
After a few days of spicy shrimp, spicy fish, spicy pork, spicy fruit, and spicy rice, the gnomes were ready for something a little milder. They sampled some north Indian saag--a delightful concotion of spinach, yogurt, broth, and tasty-but-not-incendiary spices.
As an added bonus, when gnomes eat saag it gives them a burst of Popeye-like strength! Rinky, Dinky, and Sly used theirs to pick up an elephant. (They had to ask the elephant to hold one of her feet up, since there were only three of them.) Unfortunately, the saag wore off mid-trick and the elephant came crashing down. That's the last time she does a favour for gnomes.
This incident was the first in what eventually developed into an epic tale of the gnomes' culinary adventures overseas--but the rest, as they say, is a story for another time.
There is nothing Charlie would like better than to pick up an elephant, of course, so he begged me to make saag. I modified the recipe to make a soup of it, and now he’s guaranteed to slurp it with gusto every time. If only I'd caught on sooner.
Saag Soup (aka Swamp Soup)
Ingredients
2 T butter
1 onion, finely minced
6 cloves of garlic, pressed or minced
2 t ginger powder
2 t ground coriander
1/2 t turmeric
1/2 t cayenne
1 lb baby spinach leaves
2 1/2 C chicken stock (see recipe below)
1 1/2 t salt
1 C yogurt
Directions
Heat the butter in a large saucepan on medium. Add minced onions and salt and sauté until the onions are translucent. Add the garlic and spices and sauté for another two minutes.
Stir in the stock and spinach and bring to a boil. Reduce heat slightly and simmer for ten minutes or until spinach is thoroughly cooked but still a springy shade of green (if it reminds you of the military, you've gone too far). Remove from heat and blend, either with an immersion blender (my fave) or by processing into a stand blender or food processor then returning to the pan. Simmer the pureé another couple minutes, then add yogurt, adjust seasonings if warranted, and serve.
Hint: For good quality spices at a reasonable price, try an Indian grocery store. Mine come from Indian Groceries in Halifax. Great place.
Chicken Stock
To make chicken stock, first roast a chicken (organic and local if you can get/afford it). After you've stripped the meat from the carcass, put the entire carcass in a crock pot or stock pot and fill in the empty spaces with vegetables--to make stock for this dish, I recommend keeping it simple with just roughly chopped onion (2 cups) and peeled, whole garlic cloves (2 bulbs). Throw in a healthy pinch of salt and just cover with water. Add half a cup of white vinegar (this will leach the calcium from the bones, making for a more nutritious stock.) Bring the whole mess to a boil, then simmer, covered, for 3 hours (stock pot) to 5 hours (crock pot). Remove the bones and big chunks, then strain the broth through cheesecloth (I get mine at the dollar store). Chill in the fridge for a few hours, strain off the fat that rises to the top, and you're good to go.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Monday, September 14, 2009
Pancake Perfection
I love blueberry pancakes, and yet they madden me when done wrong. Which they usually are. Perfectly fresh blueberries, I find, are a little too wet and juicy for ideal pancaking. They gush and squirt, in the worst case scenario they create a wet (albeit tasty) puddle in the middle of a pancake, damaging its integrity. On top of that, the intensity of their flavor usually leaves me unsatisfied.
Dried blueberries, unfortunately, aren’t much better. They are too dry. They are too chewy. They refuse to share their flavor with the surrounding batter, the stingy little bastards.
I’ve gone so far as to make a batch of pancakes with half fresh and half dried blueberries. Fail. They embodied the worst of both worlds. The dog, at least, thought they were fabulous.
Recently, thanks to a gift from my lovely hubby, I started drying my own blueberries. Nova Scotia blueberries are selling for fifty cents a pound this season. The results are beyond compare. Made from local berries picked at the height of ripeness and quickly dried, they have a depth of flavor unsurpassed by anything I’ve ever found in a store—and I’ve paid some ridiculous prices for Very Special Organic Dried Blueberries in my day.
Normally it takes 10-18 hours to properly dehydrate blueberries (depending on size). Last week, I stopped my dehydrator a couple hours into the process to check and see how they were coming along. The berries were just starting to wrinkle up, their skins still soft. I took a couple out and bit in. A hot, rich gush of juice flooded my mouth. They were… THE PERFECT PANCAKE BERRIES. Embodying just the right degree of wetness in combination with a soft exterior that broke upon pressure, they obligingly released hot, concentrated juice into my mouth. As, I quickly deduced, they would into a pillow of surrounding batter.
I expect that you can even freeze fresh berries, defrost them the day before, and pull this trick out of your hat in February. I'll certainly be trying it. (Warning: do NOT try this with blueberries bought “fresh” at the supermarket that have been shipped from Chile or someplace equally ridiculous—they will taste like soggy cardboard. Scout's honor.)
The Perfect Blueberry Pancake
Ingredients
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons cake flour
1 cup all purpose flour
1/4 cup sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 cups whole milk (goat's milk works well here)
2 large eggs
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted, plus additional melted butter
Fresh-grated zest of one lime
2 1/2-pints of fresh, local blueberries, dehydrated for 2 hours to about 2 pints
Preparation
Preheat pan on medium. Whisk both flours and next 3 ingredients in large bowl. Whisk milk and eggs in medium bowl. Gradually whisk milk mixture into dry ingredients. Mix in 3 tablespoons melted butter, lime zest, and blueberries.
Coat the pan with melted butter. Working in batches, pour batter by 1/4 cupfuls onto griddle. Cook until bottoms brown. Turn pancakes over and cook until second side browns. Times vary, so keep checking until you get a feel for it.
Cook according to taste. I like my pancakes cooked in ample butter, so that one needn’t add more at the table. Pancakes cooked this way keep well wrapped up and make great stand-alone snacks to take here, there, and everywhere!
This is a handy brunch dish, as it’s ideal to put the blueberries in the dehydrator two hours before you start making the pancakes so they’ll be hot when you add them to the batter. If that’s not possible, however, they are still excellent if concentrated the day before and then refrigerated. Enjoyeux, mes amis!
Dried blueberries, unfortunately, aren’t much better. They are too dry. They are too chewy. They refuse to share their flavor with the surrounding batter, the stingy little bastards.
I’ve gone so far as to make a batch of pancakes with half fresh and half dried blueberries. Fail. They embodied the worst of both worlds. The dog, at least, thought they were fabulous.
Recently, thanks to a gift from my lovely hubby, I started drying my own blueberries. Nova Scotia blueberries are selling for fifty cents a pound this season. The results are beyond compare. Made from local berries picked at the height of ripeness and quickly dried, they have a depth of flavor unsurpassed by anything I’ve ever found in a store—and I’ve paid some ridiculous prices for Very Special Organic Dried Blueberries in my day.
Normally it takes 10-18 hours to properly dehydrate blueberries (depending on size). Last week, I stopped my dehydrator a couple hours into the process to check and see how they were coming along. The berries were just starting to wrinkle up, their skins still soft. I took a couple out and bit in. A hot, rich gush of juice flooded my mouth. They were… THE PERFECT PANCAKE BERRIES. Embodying just the right degree of wetness in combination with a soft exterior that broke upon pressure, they obligingly released hot, concentrated juice into my mouth. As, I quickly deduced, they would into a pillow of surrounding batter.
I expect that you can even freeze fresh berries, defrost them the day before, and pull this trick out of your hat in February. I'll certainly be trying it. (Warning: do NOT try this with blueberries bought “fresh” at the supermarket that have been shipped from Chile or someplace equally ridiculous—they will taste like soggy cardboard. Scout's honor.)
The Perfect Blueberry Pancake
Ingredients
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons cake flour
1 cup all purpose flour
1/4 cup sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 cups whole milk (goat's milk works well here)
2 large eggs
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted, plus additional melted butter
Fresh-grated zest of one lime
2 1/2-pints of fresh, local blueberries, dehydrated for 2 hours to about 2 pints
Preparation
Preheat pan on medium. Whisk both flours and next 3 ingredients in large bowl. Whisk milk and eggs in medium bowl. Gradually whisk milk mixture into dry ingredients. Mix in 3 tablespoons melted butter, lime zest, and blueberries.
Coat the pan with melted butter. Working in batches, pour batter by 1/4 cupfuls onto griddle. Cook until bottoms brown. Turn pancakes over and cook until second side browns. Times vary, so keep checking until you get a feel for it.
Cook according to taste. I like my pancakes cooked in ample butter, so that one needn’t add more at the table. Pancakes cooked this way keep well wrapped up and make great stand-alone snacks to take here, there, and everywhere!
This is a handy brunch dish, as it’s ideal to put the blueberries in the dehydrator two hours before you start making the pancakes so they’ll be hot when you add them to the batter. If that’s not possible, however, they are still excellent if concentrated the day before and then refrigerated. Enjoyeux, mes amis!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)