Sì, Ho Fatto Ciabatta!

I love Google translate, but this particular translation (Yes, I made Ciabatta) looks to have been completed by Jabba the Hutt, and not just because Ciabatta sounds a bit like Chewbacca.

If you are a fan of Ciabatta you simply must try this recipe. I've made two batches now and while I still have miles to go in tweaking my form and the loaves' final appearance I'm pretty stoked to be able to turn out some great bread for sandwiches or antipasti. We had flank steak sandwiches tonight on fresh ciabatta and they were wonderful.

The photo here is from my first batch. I made it on Friday and served it that evening with Italian Beef and Giardinera. At lunchtime on Saturday I toasted it a bit and it made for a nice Avocado Lettuce & Tomato sandwich. Tomorrow my girls will find a caprese sandwich in their lunch totes. I'll say, those neoprene lunch totes must have hit the tipping point with the elementary set over the summer. My daughters and all their friends showed up with them on the first day of school. Anyway, the caprese sandwich is something they had at Red Hen over the summer - the classic, too-good-to-fail combination of  fresh mozzarella, fresh basil and tomato slices. At Red Hen they serve it up on their jaw-breaker ciabatta, drizzled with a bit of balsamic. It's become a favorite sandwich of theirs, especially on Bennison's ciabatta which we prefer. But now that I can turn out a decent loaf myself, my ciabatta purchasing days are a thing of the past.

Let me know if you try the recipe and what you think. I used the first recipe, not the semolina. You will really need a scale, and a solid stand mixer. I could measure out the flour and give you approximations, but that's just not how bread is made. A kitchen scale is a great tool. This is a close relative of the one I have. I've also seen decent ones (Salter is a great brand) at Bed Bath & Beyond in the Beyond section.

Yawn. Nighty-night.

Read Full Post

Don't Let the Pigeon Can Tomatoes

I forgot this until this very moment, but my nickname for a scant few years of childhood (a scant few years itself, childhood) was Pidge. Short for Pigeon. It was on account of my propensity for chasing pigeons. Silliness is so underrated.

Last week, the lovely Catherine and I embarked on an inaugural canning event. It's always good to undertake a project like this with a friend. They will provide moral support and sound advice. And in Catherine's case, the wisdom of experience as well. I had not canned anything in about 15 years but she regularly puts up glossy jars of summer berries. Her blueberry jam is wonderful. Makes me think of the wonderful Blueberries for Sal book. Ku-plink, ku-plank, ku-plunk.

Tomato canning was not difficult, and it didn't take that long. We wrapped up the work part in, oh, two hours?? The rest was just watching the pot boil. This is the order of operations:

1. Get some tomatoes. We're city girls so we didn't have choice but to rely on the good farmers who come to the Green City Market. We bought 25 pounds from Kinnikinnick Farm. We did this pretty late in the season so we got what Kinnikinnick had. Next time we'll do it earlier and get all Romas. Romas are the best for canning because of their lower water content.

2. Get wide-mouthed quart-sizes mason jars. Run them thru the dishwasher.

3. Size up your stockpots. You need to submerge the mason jars. We were able to put 4 jars in each stockpot. I only have one stockpot so it was great that Catherine brought two of her own.

3. Boil water like like a couple of midwives. As in, get a pot on every burner.

4. Roll up your sleeves. You need to core and score all those tomatoes: cut out the core and mark the bottoms with an X.

5. Boil the tomatoes - not too many at once - for about 2 minutes to release the skins. We boiled them as we cored and scored.

6. Ice, ice, baby. Have an ice bath ready, probably in your sink. You will need to transfer the tomatoes to the ice bath to stop them from cooking.


7. Peel away.

8. Load them into the jars. Twenty-five pounds will fill around 12 quart-sized mason jars. Our yield was 10 jars.

9. Mash down the tomatoes with the handle of a wooden spoon. Add a few more tomatoes if necessary. You want to fill the jars with no air bubbles, up the the lowest part of the rim.

10. Boil the lids to sterilize the lids and soften the wax.

Steps 1-10 are easy enough. Here's what the Pigeon can mess up:

1. Not having enough lemons on hand. You need to add about 2 T of lemon juice to each jar. I barely had enough.

2. Not having the magnet stick to help you retrieve lids out of the boiling water.

3. Not sufficiently wiping the glass rims before placing the lids. There won't be a good enough seal and you won't know it until you've boiled the jars for 85 minutes. The solution is simple: do it over. Remove the lid, wipe the rim, boil the lid, replace it, and boil the jar for another 85 minutes.

4. Getting #3 wrong twice.

Only one jar failed to seal and I'm not positive that it failed the second time. To be sure, I saved that jar in my fridge and need to cook them soon.

Honestly, I'm sort of terrified to try them. If I love them I'll want to hoard them and if they're no good it will be disappointing. I'll make Tomato Basil Soup tonight along with our Lamb Kabobs and Quinoa and let you know.

Want to know more or can stuff yourself? Check out Food in Jars.

Read Full Post

Zen and the Art of Weeknight Cooking

A former neighbor, a lovely woman with money to burn, once explained to me the necessity of employing a cook. The timing of dinner preparation fell right smack in the middle of the time when her children needed her most. When kids come home from school they have a lot going on - homework, school projects, after school activities, play dates, not to mention (sometimes) wanting to tell you everything about their day, or air their grievances on a variety of subjects. My neighbor felt better about being present and engaged with her children than cooking for them. The part about employing a cook was unrelatable for several reasons (my inability to abstain from micro-managing included) but, even tho at the time my children were not school aged, I understood completely that when they were I would have to navigate the late-afternoon/early evening with a skillet in one hand and a science fair rubric in the other.

Tonight I had planned to make Asian Grilled Salmon Salad but even before I picked my children at the end of the day I knew there was no way that meal was going to happen. So I changed things up and made Teriyaki Salmon Bowls instead. And given the cool fall night we're enjoying, it was a better meal than the salad would have been. Here's what I did:

Teriyaki Salmon Bowls
No recipe. Just follow my lead.

The critical task was that earlier in the day I made it to Whole Foods and purchased a 1.25-pound farmed Norwegian salmon filet (skin on). They had King available but it didn't look great. Also, King is so darned big and I do like staying away from the bigger fish.

Back at home, between supervising and correcting school work, unsticking the mouthpiece from my daughter's trumpet, and collecting my other daughter from her after-school sports, I made a pot of rice. Brown rice would have been my preference but I made Basmati since it was already 6:30. I rinsed the filet with very cold water, patted it dry, and transferred it to a small baking sheet. I poured over it a tablespoon or so of my favorite teriyaki sauce (Veri Veri Teriyaki) and gently but intentionally stabbed it all over with a dinner fork. This makes me feel like a bad person, but my fishmonger says it makes for a good marinating practice. I preheated the grill for about 10 minutes. Meanwhile, I turned off my rice, fluffed it and replaced the cover. I chopped a green onion on the diagonal. I didn't have any broccoli, but I would have steamed some at this point. I also pulled out a jar of sesame seeds.

When the grill was ready, I put the fish on, skin side up, for about 5 minutes. I flipped it and cooked the other side for 2-3 minutes. It was perfect when I pulled it off. I slid the whole filet onto this beautiful plate my lovely friend Nora gave me and brought it to the table. And there, with the rice in its cooking pot on a hotplate on the table, ramekins with green onions and sesame seeds, and the jar of Veri Veri, we assembled our Teriyaki Salmon bowls: rice on the bottom, topped with salmon and the green onions and sesame seeds on top. The broccoli was missed, but I heated up some frozen edamame, so we had something green.

And that's it. This is one of those meals I make when there's really no time to cook. The time between starting and when we sat to eat was about 20 minutes. I hate giving times for things - I've done this meal before, so don't be mad at either one of us if it takes you longer. I cannot overstate the importance of setting a meal plan for your family for the week, and shopping to support the menu you write. I'll post on how my menu takes shape - and how the menu is shared with the family - later in the week.

Happy Monday.

Read Full Post

Smoked Salmon Spread (or, Put a Little Protein on that Giant Carb)

It's ill-advised for me to think about math too early in the day, but here's a pre-coffee postulation for you:  breakfast is a binary event. Win/lose. Carb/protein. Sugar/salt. You choose between an Omelette or Waffles. Well, you might order bacon with your pancakes, ye who just have to have it all. But usually I approach breakfast hungry for one - sugar/salt or carb/protein (win/win either way) - or the other.

A bagel with smoked salmon is one of my favorite things. This is exactly how I like it: the top half of a fresh onion bagel (not toasted, unless it's not fresh) with a thin shmear of cream cheese, a smattering of very thinly sliced red onion, a layer of smoked salmon, three not-too-thick slices of tomato, several turns of fresh ground pepper and a pinch of kosher salt or a few dashes of Redmond Real Salt. Having drained my coffee, it occurrs to me that you get a smidgen of protein with your carb here. But let's be honest, like 99% of the calories here are from the bagel.

One day, with a need to bring something breakfasty to a meeting and a short supply of smoked salmon, I conjured up a recipe for salmon spread. Oh, it is SOOO good! And wonderful for a crowd because it takes some of the work out of layering process. I served it recently at a 60-person brunch along with a basket of sliced bagels and a platter of sliced red onion and tomato. No capers. Boo, capers. Anyhoo, I had a bit leftover and it made a nice little afternoon snack atop Triscuts.

Smoked Salmon Spread
Print recipe only here

INGREDIENTS
8 oz. cream cheese
2 T heavy cream
pinch kosher salt
2 T shallot, minced
1 tsp. fresh parsley
4 oz. smoked salmon, gently shredded

METHOD
Soften cream cheese in a mixer using paddle attachment.

Add cream and beat for another minute or so.

Add shallot, parsley and salt and combine briefly. Add shallot, parsley and salt and combine briefly. Add salmon and stir in by hand (or use mixer on lowest speed for just a few turns). Do not overmix.

Read Full Post

Mind These Peas, Please

I've been noshing on peas like these all summer. The original recipe came from a cookbook by Sarah Raven called In Season. It's a great resource of a cookbook and is a great complement to James Peterson's Vegetables cookbook. Anyway, I have to give Mariana a shout out for gifting me Sarah's book. It's yielded a number of tasty sides.

I've played a bit with the original recipe, sometimes sauteing the mint, sometimes tossing it on at the end. On one occasion I followed Raven's recipe and added some fresh squeezed lemon juice but I really didn't care for it. Another time I added shallot at the beginning, sauteing it gently before adding the peas to the softened shallot and warm oil. But this way is my favorite way.


I don't know how good this would be using frozen peas. The might be ok, but I think the beauty of this dish is the crunch of the fresh pea and the marriage with fresh mint. I hope you won't have trouble sourcing fresh peas. You can always check the salad section at Trader Joe's. Their 10-ounce bag has not disappointed.

Bright Summer Peas
Print recipe only here

INGREDIENTS
1 to 2 cups fresh peas
1 t olive oil
2 T fresh mint, finely chopped
generous pinch kosher
fresh ground pepper

METHOD
Gently pulse peas in a food processor to crush them a bit. Don't overdo it. You want to retain their texture.

Transfer peas to a small saucepan or saute pan. Add the olive oil, salt and pepper. Stir gently for 3-4 minutes over a low-medium flame. Turn off heat, add chopped mint, stir and serve.

Read Full Post

A Desk of One's Own

I had a bee in my bonnet all summer about finding a desk. Complicating the search were the dimensions (it had to be small, like no more than 48 inches wide) and determining the exact spot it would inhabit in our house. My interim desk was a bookshelf to which I bellied up a bar stool and into which I would fold one leg. My back is still complaining about that arrangement.

Sometime in the last week of summer before the kids went back to school I discovered, while trolling the internet, an antiques shop in nearby Oak Park. And nearly every morning during that week I announced my intention to skip out there and see if they had my desk. And every afternoon, around 2 pm, when the window had nearly closed on agreeable transit times between Chicago and Oak Park, I caved to my children's pleas to enjoy their last bit of summer and not spend it shopping. Wise children, I have.

Lo, on the first day of school, after the school doors closed behind them, and the parental meet and greet and Room Parent meeting had adjourned, I got in my car, cranked some hillbilly rock (the Avett Brother's Mignonette album) and drove myself out to the land of Arts and Crafts. And there, tucked in a back room of Oak Park Antiques was my desk. Unlike Mary, who Bruce Springsteen sings about in Thunder Road ("You ain't a beauty but, hey, you're alright"), she is lovely, just lovely. That line - worst pick up line, ever - always makes me chuckle. My bet is that Mary did not take the long walk from her front porch to Bruce's front seat.

If I had any uncertainty about that desk being my desk (it is shy of 48 inches and I was slightly concerned I would need a bit more space) it melted when I opened the top drawer and found an old book of short stories from the New Yorker. It has a couple of names inscribed inside, as well as a handwritten date: December 1942, the month and year my mother was born.

I've been thinking about my mother a lot since last month when I turned the age she was when her life ended. I've been thinking about how to live my life more fully, about working and playing harder, about appreciating the life I have without complaint.

My mom and daughters are good at reminding me to stop shopping, or tidying, or busying myself with activity less important than cramming onto the couch, holding my cards close to my face so the children pressed in against me can't see them, and being commanded in variety of silly voices, to hand over all my Sevens. Lucky, too, for a desk at which to consider it all.

Read Full Post

Three New Summer Cocktails (or Sippin' on Gin and Cukes*)

This summer we've been enjoying a rotation of three cocktails that we've never made before. It was high time for some new drinks. The margarita lost her appeal years ago, followed by the mojito. Pierce Brosnan ruined the mojito for me. He ordered one in Die Another Day and his affected Latin accent zapped allure right out of the drink. Plus, it's rare to find a mojito that compares with  Honga's, especially the Piña one. Mmmm.

The number of ingredients in a cocktail is inversely proportional to my enjoyment of same but correlates to hangover intensity. The reason for the latter has to do with sugar. I love the eight-ingredient make that ten-ingredient Mai Tai but there's just too much juice in there. Makes my head hurt. Three is the magic number of ingredients in the Summer of 2011 cocktails.

They are...

Hendrick's Gin and Tonic. What I love about it: the cucumber garnish and essence in the gin itself makes for a very clean drink. If spas had bars they would all serve these.

To make a HGT: fill a 10 ounce glass with ice. Pour in one shot of Hendrick's. Top with tonic. Stir gently. Add three round, thin slices of English cucumber. Serve and enjoy.

I've been meaning to dig out a tool one of my cooking school teachers gave me - it's a channeling tool, used commonly to remove dark green ribbons from a lime. You can also use it to carve out the edges of a cucumber so that, when you slice it, the circles have fancy ridges.

The Dark and Stormy - What I love about it:  the spicy kick of ginger. Spend any time in the Caribbean, or pal around with anyone who has, and you'll end up with one of these in your hand. This was the case when we bare boated a few winters ago in the BVIs. That trip set us off on a goose chase for a sufficiently spicy ginger beer. Goslings, sold in Chitown at Binny's, does the trick tho not quite as well as some of the Caribbean microbrewers.

To make a DNS: Fill a 10-ounce glass with ice. Pour in a shot of Goslings Black Seal dark rum, then fill the rest of the way with Goslings Ginger Beer. Squeeze a wedge of lime into the glass, then drop the wedge in. Stir gently and serve.

Moscow Mule - What I love about it: the simple 1-2-3 proportions. And the lime. I am a sucker for a fresh squeezed lime juice.  Also, the vessel. If you wanna be truly authentic about you drink out of a (fairly large) copper mug. A drink with a dedicated vessel? Awesome.

To make an M2: Search online for a copper mug. Quit when you realize it's silly/extravagant/stupid to make said purchase. Make a mental note to buy them as a hostess gift for someone. Squeeze lots of limes, like a dozen. You drink M2 in the company of lots of friends, so you're going to need lots of juice. Fill any sized glass with ice. Top with one shot vodka, two shots of fresh lime and three shots of ginger beer. The proportions are 1-2-3. Stir and enjoy.



* If only Dynamite Hack would do a version of this song, clad in crisp country club whites holding Gin and Cukes!


That's all.

Read Full Post