Wednesday, April 30, 2008

My Blog Sucks, but Damn My Bread is Good

My blog sucks because I ignore it, I'm lazy about writing recipes, I'm overly protective of my recipes, and half the time I just don't feel like writing. But then I see my sister's blog and think, "That's short and sweet and I can do that, too."

Ok. So the amazing whole wheat bread I made the other day, I cannot take credit for. It's from my new bible, "Artisan Bread in 5 Minutes a Day," by Twin Cities pastry chef and cooking instructor, Zoe Francois, and it's making me look like a friggin' genius at home and work. With the price of wheat skyrocketing, I'm attempting to save us some money at work baking our own bread, and so far it's been delicious and very easy. I've done pastry here and there, but avoided bread like the plague. But now I make focaccia every day, as well as whole wheat rolls and semolina bread. I basically mix up a quintuple batch in the big Hobart mixer, leave it in the walk-in, and shape whatever I need for that day. I did a single batch of the 100% whole wheat bread at home, and got 3 good sized loaves out of it. It's almost like eating cake-lots of milk and honey in it, and with a schmear of Hope Creamery butter it's heaven. It's almost dangerous. It calls to you from the other room, until soon you realize, you've eaten the whole damn loaf in a day and a half and you better get your sorry butt to the gym to work off all the whole stick of butter you downed along with it.

So since I don't want to be accused of plagiarism, you better go buy the book. I recommend going to Common Good Books on Selby Avenue in St. Paul, or their online store. It's one of the only independent book stores left in St. Paul, and is owned by Garrison Keillor. Great employees there, and fantastic books you're not going to find at Borders and Barnes and Noble.

Monday, September 3, 2007

Heredity: Why I Break Wine Glasses


My mom did it and now I do it. Maybe everyone does it, but I don't think they do it as much we do. For some reason my mother had a terrible knack for breaking wine glasses. She'd go out to Dayton's or some nicer department store and spend a decent amount on good wine glasses right before the whole gang came over for Easter or Thanksgiving. We'd make it through the entire dinner and at midnight while washing dishes, she'd spin around and knock two or three off the counter in one shot.

I just did the same thing.
I had my dad, sister and brother in law over for some amazing Coho Salmon I bought at Coastal Seafoods, and after they left, I was doing the dishes and thinking about how many wine glasses my mother and I had both broken over the years. I'm guessing 30-40. I was also thinking how good it is that I now only buy cheap wine glasses at Ikea because of my genetic problem, when I pulled the dish towel off the counter too quickly and knocked over one of my last 5 white wine glasses. I'm also down to 1 red.
Getting back to Ikea. They sell them in packs of 6 for around $3. They actually look good, no one knows they're drinking out of cheap stemware, and I can break as many as I want without sweating the cost. Yes, some day I would love to own the specially shaped Riedel Cabernet, Shiraz and Chardonnay glasses, but until they make them indestructible, or find a cure for my genetic glass breaking disorder, I'll stick to Ikea.

Friday, August 17, 2007

Our Too Short Summer

I've been in the restuarant business for nearly 9 years now, and I have never worked with produce as beautiful as I've been getting this year. Working at the U of M, I've got access to Cornercopia, the student-run organic farm on the St. Paul campus, where they're growing cool things like currants, new types of strawberries that are still being developed and aren't available to the public, bright orange Turkish eggplants, and as of last week, the farm's first three pretty little eggs. Light blue, and pink, they're straight out of an airbrushed issue of Martha Stewart, only real!


As the Minnesota State Fair approaches, and I start seeing apples and squash showing up on my order guides, I want to gather every crazy-shaped, sweet, juicy heirloom tomato in our cooler, and just . . . just hug them, really. There is nothing worse than a store-bought tomato, unless it's from the co-op, and even that's really not the same. I bought some heirlooms at the St. Paul Farmer's Market a week ago and cut thick, misshapen slices for a hummus sandwich on pita bread. I tucked in some crunchy lettuce and whole basil leaves from my herb garden, and chowed down. Tomato juice ran down my arms, to my elbows as I gobbled it down, giddy with summer. It goes by too fast.

Monday, August 6, 2007

Feeding My Cold


Nothing feels worse than a cold in the summertime, and I've got a nasty one. I felt fine early yesterday. I hit the St. Paul Farmer's Market like I always do (the photo is a bunch of the stuff I bought there), and then I was at the Minneapolis art fairs with my dad. I felt fine all day, got home, and then got hit by a train. My head feels like it's going to explode with each sneeze, and I go from feverish to freezing every two minutes.

I've got a couple favorite cold remedies, none of which I make myself, because who wants to cook when you're sick? The first one, which I reserve for the full blown January, post-holidays cold that all of Minnesota passes around to each other every year, is the Masaman Curry at Pad Thai Grand, on Grand Avenue in St. Paul. Spicey, hot, clears out your head, and if you order it medium hot or hotter, I swear it makes your vision blur. I'm really not kidding.

Next best cold cure on my list are any of the noodle bowls at Tanpopo Noodle Shop in St. Paul, down by the Farmer's Market. Hot steamy broth, with spinach, mushrooms, udon or soba noodles, and this great pepper mix that you add yourself, it's like your consuming liquid health. And if you're well enough to eat it there, it comes in these beautiful, hot, ceramic bowls. I usually order it with tempura. Fabulous!

So when I left work early this morning I went to Cafe Latte in St. Paul, and brought home a bowl of their chicken salsa chili. The spice level is just right for most Minnesotans, but I brought it home and dumped a whole bunch of sriracha on it and ate it with all the toppings-sour cream, tortilla chips, cheese and onions. The spice cleared out my head, and I fell into a happy three hour chili coma. The complementary whole wheat bread, and the day old piece of marble pound cake helped a lot, too.

Here's the recipe for Cafe Latte's Chicken Salsa Chili from their website.

CafĂ© Latte’s Chicken Salsa Chili
• 3 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 pound boneless, skinless chicken breast, cut into 1-inch pieces
• 1 1/2 cups chopped yellow onions
• 1/2 teaspoon crushed red chili pepper flakes
• 1 tablespoon minced fresh garlic
• 2 teaspoons minced fresh jalapeno chili peppers
• 1 1/2 cups chicken stock
• 3 tablespoons chili powder
• 1 can (28 ounces) whole tomatoes, undrained and broken up
• 1 can (29 ounces) tomato puree
• 2 cans (15 ounces each) dark red kidney beans drained
• 1 can (15 ounces) hominy
• 1/3 cup chopped fresh cilantro
• 2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lime juice
To make chili: Warm olive oil in a large stockpot over medium heat. Sauté chicken
until cooked. Add onions and reduce heat. Cook for 3 minutes or until onions are tender.
Add pepper flakes, garlic, jalapenos, chicken stock, chili powder, tomatoes and tomato
puree, kidney beans and hominy. Simmer for 15 to 20 minutes.
To serve: Add chopped cilantro and limejuice just prior to serving. Adjust seasoning to
taste. Top with sour cream, chopped red onions, grated cheddar cheese and tortilla chips.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Great Sorbet, and the Amazing Egg Trick

When I worked at Lucia's Restuarant in Minneapolis, I worked mainly on the line or doing the ordering, but once in a while when our pastry chef would go on vacation I would fill in. Pastry was one of the toughest jobs in that restaurant. First of all, you'd start at 4am, which damn near killed me, and you were responsible for all the day's bread, the desserts, an ice cream, and a sorbet. The first time I did pastry at Lucia's, I worked a few shifts with the pastry chef before her vacation, and she taught me one of the coolest, most reliable rules of thumb that I've ever learned in cooking.

The trick involves floating an uncooked egg, in its shell, in your sorbet mixture to determine if you have the right amount of sugar. When you get too much sugar in your sorbet it won't freeze properly, no matter how long you process it. We just got a new commercial ice cream maker at my current job, and this week I made several gallons of sour cherry, and red currant sorbet. We're getting the most amazing fruit from Southeast Minnesota Food Network right now, and it's making delicious sorbet.

I kept trying to find good recipes for both the sour cherry and red current sorbet, but most of what I found was coming from British or German websites where everything was in metric. I've found a good website for converting recipes, but I was still never sure they were going to work. I had several huge orders for sorbet coming up, all within one week, so I had to be sure I had it right. That's where the egg test came in.

Most sorbet recipes will have you puree and strain the fruit, and then add simple syrup, which is just equal parts sugar and water, boiled until the sugar dissolves. The problem is that you can never be totally certain how much sugar is in the fruit itself, and how much simple syrup you should add. So to be completely accurate, you add simple syrup, one cup at a time to the fruit puree and put a whole egg in the mixture. If the egg floats enough so that it's exposed surface is the size of a dime, the sorbet will freeze properly. If the egg sinks, you need more simple syrup. If the exposed area of the egg is larger then a dime, you need more fruit, or a bit of water to reduce the amount of sugar.



The trick came in most handy the other day when I was racing to freeze the sour cherry sorbet before I had to leave. I had used the last 4 cups of white sugar in the house to make my simple syrup. I had it in the sink, cooling in an ice bath, but when I turned to use it, it was gone.

"Where the hell is my simple syrup?" I yelled. No one knew what I was talking about, but pretty soon, we figured out that one of our dishwashers, thinking it was just a pan of old water, had dumped it out and run it through the dishwasher. So after a few minutes of swearing to myself in the back storeroom, I pulled it together, and grabbed a box of sugar in the raw. Sugar in the raw is also called turbinado sugar, and has a coarse grain and light brown color. I made a simple syrup with it, in the usual one to one, sugar to water ratio, cooled it down, and began adding it cup by cup to the pureed cherries. I got out an egg, and it immediately sank to the bottom of the bowl. So I added more simple syrup, until I had used the whole 6 cups, and after pushing aside the cherry foam, there it was, the dime-sized portion of egg sticking out of the mixture. I put it in the ice cream maker, churned it for 30 minutes, and tasted. Perfect! We served it the next day with a flourless chocolate cake, and the contrast between rick, dark, creamy chocolate, and cold, tart sour cherry was delicious.




Sour Cherry, or Red Currant Sorbet

Makes about 1 1/2 quarts

2 1/2 pounds, sour cherries, pitted, or red currants, stems removed

1 cup sugar

1 cup water

Puree the pitted cherries, or red currants in a food processer, and press the pulp through a medium sieve.

To make the simple syrup, combine the sugar and water in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil for one minute, until the sugar is disolved. Cool the simple syrup in an ice bath, or the refrigerator.

Pour the simple syrup into the cherry puree. Take an egg and gently drop it into the mixture. The egg should rise to the surface, with a dime sized portion of it exposed. If the egg sinks, add more simple syrup. If too much of the egg is exposed, add a few tablespoons of water, until the egg sinks down slightly. When you've achieved the correct ratio, put the mixture in the freezer for 20 minutes to chill.

Process the chilled mixture in an ice cream maker, according to the manufacturers directions. Once frozen, transfer the sorbet to a different container and store in the freezer.

Saturday, July 7, 2007

Starting Fresh


My boyfriend and I decided to take living in sin to the next level, so two weeks ago we bought our first house together. This has been a two year process, in which my dad, our realtor, calls every few months and says, "Now I'm not trying to pressure you, but I just toured this house on the West Side that you've got to see." We've written 5 different purchase agreements, been through two inspections, backed out of one deal, and now finally, we've got what we want. A great big old house, with cool woodwork, 4 bedrooms, a huge pantry, and a whole third floor to house my cookbook collection. After living in an 850 square foot apartment for almost 3 years, the collection was busting. I had culled out all the old Bon Appetits and cookbooks I rarely used, but it damn near killed me every time I took another box to Half Price Books. God, why didn't I save them?

So we're starting fresh in a new home, and in the two and a half weeks since we've been here we've been eating a lot better. Lot's of grilling, lots of veggies, some amazing ribeyes. I was kind of worried that after living on Cathedral Hill, our new neighborhood wasn't going to do it for me culinarily speaking. On Selby we had Mississippi Market, Solo Vino, Moscow on the Hill, and the best bar in the whole wide world, W.A. Frost. Our tradition is to go to Frost's during huge blizzards when it's empty. We always get mussels, and my boyfriend has developed a talent for always ordering the scotch that they just ran out of. The bartenders there are the best because they always give him a huge pour of a more expensive one, and more than once we've been the receipients of extra wine, the dessert a server ordered by mistake, or the Organic Costa Rican French press coffee that the next table decided they didn't need.

Selby was great, but our new neighborhood has three of my favorite things all within 3 blocks of our home, a coffee shop, a library, and an outpost of the St. Paul Farmer's Market. I grew up in this town, and didn't appreciate it as a kid, but I don't think there was much to appreciate as far as food went back then. But today I came home from the farmer's market with a ton of herbs to plant, and a fridge full of fresh locally grown food to cook, and I'm giddy. I love our house. I love the new garden I just planted on the hottest day of the year. I love the food we've made here already.

Tomorrow for dinner I'm making grilled Gerber chicken breasts, (bone in and skin on) with a sweet corn relish. I used the relish in a grilling class I taught recently at Kitchen Party in Blaine, and served it on grilled wild rice brats that I bought at Kramarczuk's in Northeast Minneaplis. They were amazing! It's also great on pork, burgers, and steak. I'm thinking I'll try it on tacos, or salmon next week, too.

Grilled Sweet Corn Relish
8 ears corn, husked, and silk removed
1 red bell pepper, seeded and diced small
1 green pepper, seeded and diced small
½ of one small red onion, peeled and diced small
¼ cup cider vinegar
1/4 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup olive oil
1 tablespoon dry mustard 2 teaspoons turmeric
2 teaspoons finely chopped garlic
1/2 cup roughly chopped fresh parsley
Salt and freshly cracked black pepper to taste

Place the corn around the edges of a hot fire, where the heat is lower, so it is just barely over the coals. Grill the corn, rolling it around until evenly browned, about 3 minutes. As soon as the ears are cool enough to handle, slice the kernels from the cobs into a small bowl. Combine with the peppers and red onion. I save the cobs and use them to make stock for corn chowder.

In a small saucepan, combine the cider vinegar and brown sugar. Bring to a boil and remove from the heat when the sugar has dissolved. Whisk in the olive oil, dry mustard, turmeric and garlic. Stir the vinegar mixture into the corn and peppers, and refrigerate for 1 hour. Add the parsley just before serving, and season to taste with salt and pepper.