Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Cream soups and avoiding the curds

I went browsing for rugs last weekend, and returned with a few ideas and a bag of soup mixes. 

If Cost Plus had a furniture selection comparable to its world tour of snacks, I'd outfit the whole house with its inexpensive-but-solid dark wood pieces. While there's nothing shocking in the food selection, within three or four isles you can grab British digestive biscuits, German canned herring, Japanese candies, and and reasonably-priced Veuve Cliquot with which to celebrate your finds. It's not an overseas vacation, but perhaps a vicarious exploration comparable to an hour of No Reservations (available instantly on Netflix -- I highly recommend for lazy Saturdays). 
So last weekend, I picked out a rug and picked up some soup mix, including a spicy pumpkin which I made tonight. It was easy and it called for a ton of cream (I subbed some half and half plus a little plain yogurt, since that's what I had), and the recipe was at least new, if not particularly interesting. 

Adding the dairy to the soup reminded me of the many  less successful attempts I'd had: without the right background info, an amateur chef may get a pot of tiny curds instead of a creamy bisque.  But why? I decided to investigate. 

Tips: Adding cream or milk to soup.

Apparently, milk and dairy are quite heat-sensitive. If you melt butter, or even mix it above "High" with you kitchenaid, the butter breaks down, never to return to its original form -- a problem for precise pastries.  

When adding milk or cream to soup, be aware of this delicacy to maintain excellent texture. Cream can withstand a bit more heat than milk, but neither should boil! This is the most important point, in my opinion.

Curdling is a clumping of milk protein. Acid, salt, and heat can all cause milk's protein to clump -- which makes a hot pan of well-seasoned tomato soup a prime environment for curdling.   

To avoid this misfortune, cook all other ingredients, then reduce heat to a simmer -- or even lower, to be safe. As the final step before serving, add cream while stirring or whisking constantly. Bring the heat up slowly, and never above a simmer -- I would just heat to the temp at which you want to eat it. Don't let it sit unattended on the stove, and don't use old milk (as if you would!).

A thin-bottomed pan can also cause trouble, though is more likely to cause scorching (another reason to stir/wisk constantly and monitor temperature). 

And what if you attempt these things but still get a soup with tiny specks of cream rather than a velvety bisque? All is not lost! Curdling probably didn't affect the flavor of your dish, and you can often bind everything back together with a roux or a slurry. For a roux, mix equal parts flour and butter (go ahead and melt the butter a bit, since it will melt in the soup anyway, but do not use hot melted butter, which might be harder to stir with the flour). For a slurry, mix cornstarch and cold water. For either, eliminate all lumps! Then stir your roux or slurry into the soup, and either of these "binders" should bring the soup back to a creamier texture. 

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Fancy dinner: Stumbling Goat


First and best find during the home-buying process: our real-estate agent, Eva, who came recommended from another couple. Most recent example of her fabulousness: cheese and wine at her place, then dinner at Stumbling Goat with that helpful couple who recommended her to us, in celebration of all our fabulous new north Seattle houses.

Stumbling Goat is well-established as a cozy but fairly high-end Seattle neighborhood place. Organic, local, seasonal ingredients with unpretentious preparations. They underwent a recent change of owners and some staff, but kept it within the Seattle restaurant family: the old chef went to a new place, and the new chef came from some old places, and our server (who's been at Stumbling Goat since the previous owners),  told us all about the changes without any hint at major shifts in the restaurant's focus. The lighting was flattering, the decor was clean and warm, and the view into the kitchen showed a happy family of chef, cooks, and other staff.

And dinner was excellent -- not just because it was free or accompanied by bottles of wine. The tiny menu doesn't offer much variety (a few proteins accompanied by a little starch or vegetable), but I loved everything. Wild-boar "rillettes" (a word I've never heard before but apparently means tasty spreadable meat) was surprisingly delicious. Another appetizer of fig and arugula pizza was not complex, but anything with a delicious fig and a bit of cheese is pretty near perfect. My seared salmon with crispy skin came served over sweet -- almost syrupy --roasted beets (I rarely turn down a roasted beet). Brian had a pork porterhouse, which he refused to share even a bite of, but I heard was pretty great. And for dessert, Bailey's bread pudding, which I would probably eat by the pound if I had any idea how to make such a deliciously creamy thing out of bread and liquor.

The friendly staff was sweeping the floor and stacking the chairs when we left at midnight. Prices ($20-25 entrees) were too much for frequent dining, but I would happily go back for my next special occasion. Maybe in celebration of ... Monday? Who wants wild boar, anyone?

Yellow Tomato Soup

Supposedly, colorful heirloom tomatoes are passed down through generations like delicate linens and fine china. Brian and I inherited tomatoes, too, but they're more of the free-on-Craigslist variety than intergenerational family treasure.

Our home's previous owner left a sizable flower/herb/vegetable garden. The piece de resistance: a huge tangle of fragrant green vines and leaves, small yellow pear tomatoes dangling throughout like big old-fashioned Christmas lights.


I don't know much about gardening, but I can tell when a tomato is ripe. These were jumping off the vine, almost over-ripe. I dove in with bare hands, and emerged stained green up to my elbows, with a full basket and the scent of tomato leaf everywhere.


The first batch I picked was too ripe for eating raw, and the weather was an excellent tomato-soup grey and windy, so I searched for a yellow-tomato soup recipe and found this. It's not Campbell's tomato. It's got more texture, less acid, and starchy potato flavor. Super sweet yellow tomatoes and caramelized shallots plus butter mean this is creamy and sweet, not a challenging flavor profile (sorry Top Chef cheftestants). I mostly skimmed the recipe for ingredients then made it up as I went along -- no fancy technique, just quick use of my indispensable immersion blender. :) 

Tomatoes roasted:


Simmered:


Pureed:



Saturday, September 19, 2009

Coffee and scones for a greyish day

Our first Saturday in the new house: grey, but I can smell a blueberry pastry of some kind wafting over from the neighbor's. I want coffee and scones. 

Someday I will unpack my other cookbooks, but for now I'm still living by Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything. His basic creme scone recipe was fairly simple and quick, but the "little bit sticky" texture of the dough was more a "unmanagable oozing blob of dough/batter" and I added way more extra flour than the recipe intended. I also left out the currants (who keeps currants around?) and added about half a tablespoon of cinnamon.

Despite the messy sticky-dough issues, 9 minutes after putting them in the oven the scones emerged warm, soft, just a bit sugary and perfect with coffee. 


I'm taking a break from 'real' coffee, and so picked up decaf from my favorite Seattle roaster. Tony's Coffee has been around since 1971, and according to their website, they've created "the equivalent of more than 10,000,000 pounds of coffee (enough to blanket Mt. Rainier like a hot fudge sundae)." The Sumatra Gayoland organic fair trade is my favorite, and they make a decaf version. 

I also make my coffee with a french press, which yeilds the perfect small amount of excellent coffee. 


I've read various methods for french press brewing, but my standard comes from Martha Stewart (who else?) and requires first adding just enough cold water just to cover the grounds. Supposedly this keeps the beans from being shocked at the nearly-boiling water, which you add next. Let the coffee steep as long as you like (maybe two minutes, I don't really time it), then press the strainer to the bottom and pour. Serve with cinnamon scones and stare happily out the kitchen window. :)

Friday, September 18, 2009

Heirloom Tomato Pasta

When you're in the process of moving, and your apartment is essentially a sea of cardboard,

it's a little difficult locating your husband, and next to impossible cooking a decent meal for dinner when your spices, cooking utensils and sanity are chaotically packed away. Last night's mission: cook a dinner with as few ingredients, and requiring as little cooking ware and supplies as possible and still remain edible. The dish: heirloom tomato pasta (otherwise known as my husband's favorite dish).

Though I generally make this at the beginning of summer when heirloom tomatoes first come into season, I surprisingly found a great selection at the grocery store even though fall is almost upon us. Note: don't be put off by their strange deformed shape - think of them as tomatoes with character and know that their deliciousness well makes up for their wacky appearance. Heirloom tomatoes are pretty heavy, and at around $5/pound they can add up quickly. Just keep in mind that they are HUGE and one tomato can go a long way. Now for the recipe:

Ingredients:
  • 4-5 heirloom tomatoes (I generally pick 2 huge ones, and then a few medium sized ones - be sure to select a wide variety of colors for a pretty presentation)
  • A healthy (or unhealthy) drizzle of olive oil - I never measure for this dish - you just want to put in enough oil to thicken the sauce and give it some flavor. About 1/4 cup or less is all you need
  • 1 onion, diced - I like to leave a few larger chunks for variety
  • 1-2 cloves of garlic, diced
  • Fresh basil - and it MUST be fresh, trust me, but if you gotta use dried, that will work in a pinch
  • Spices: throw in whatever and however much you feel like! I grabbed some fresh oregano from my garden (and by garden I mean apartment deck with a planter box), Italian spices, thyme, and some red pepper flakes for a little kick. Use what you have.
  • Salt and pepper to taste
  • Pasta - I like to use penne
Directions:

Dice the onion and garlic and season them with salt and pepper. Sautee them in the olive oil for about 3-4 minutes or until the onions are translucent in color. While it's sauteeing, cut your tomatoes into various sizes but leave a majority of them in pretty large chunks. They tend to cook WAY down so it's good to have some bigger pieces to make the sauce thicker. Add the tomatoes to the onions and garlic. Chop your basil and immediately add to the sauce. Season your sauce with the spices of your choosing and let simmer for 10-15 minutes. Bring the pasta to a boil while you're waiting and then toss together and season again with salt and pepper.


ViolĂ ! You're done and have a fresh, colorful, healthy and easy meal in under 20 minutes.

Now back to packing...

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

New Kitchens: Raven, part 1

When I considered it from the distance of our old apartment, setting up a new kitchen seemed like a fun opportunity to create an organized and efficient cooking and baking space. Everything would be properly placed around the room, perfectly within reach when needed and tucked away neatly when not. Nothing would be more perfect!

Recreating my vision was not so flawless. After a very long day packing and hauling and unpacking boxes, I spent half an hour contemplating the placement of our dishes in a cupboard. High or low? Left or right? Near the dishwasher or the dining room? Can bowls and plates mix on a shelf, or should they be segregated?

I unpacked our most frequently-used dishes and silverware first, and put them near the dishwasher for easy unloading. The highest cupboards went to the most seldom-used stuff. (Note: making your own pasta sounds fabulously rustic and gourmet, but in reality that classic Italian pasta machine will have a very lonely life.)

Brian left the kitchen project primarily in my hands, but helpfully wandered in at one point and suggested we use at least one cupboard for food -- you know, so we'd have something to fill our pots and plates with.

Our kitchen is now in use (and yes, sometimes we drink Riesling while blogging):

It's not quite perfect yet -- there's still a box of serving dishes in the guest bedroom, and the only cookbooks I have unpacked are Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything (most useful cookbook I've ever found) and Julia Child's The French Chef Cookbook, based on her TV show (and used for my first post on 2 Teaspoons). But we've had friends over, I've just begun preparing fabulous things in the kitchen, and it's starting to feel a bit less foreign and sterile, and a bit more like home.

One of the most satisfying kitchen-organization tricks I found: stuff everything away so the place looks clean, and then place a few favorite items neatly in the center of the room. Here, my unplanned collection of white ceramic pitchers and other containers (plus mixer) on our butcher-block cabinet -- seeing this definitely made the space feel mine:



Friday, September 11, 2009

Brought to you by the Vikings

In the past I haven't been much of a yogurt person. I like my cereal with milk, and maybe a slice of toast for my morning meal. However, after having a bit of stomach issues a few weeks ago, I recently decided to give it another try in hopes that all the probiodic goodness would help settle my rumblin' tumblin' stomach.

While shopping for my yogurt at Whole Foods, I was amazed to find a new brand called Siggi's from - of all places - Iceland. Now, normally I'm not a fan of Icelandic food (sorry mom and any other Icelandic relatives that might be reading this). I mean, come on. When their idea of gourmet is boiled sheep head...doesn't exactly leave me wanting to come back for seconds. Their pastries though...now that's a different story. But now I'm getting off topic. The yogurt.

Skyr is the traditional yogurt of Iceland. In general, it's thicker, creamier and, in my opinion, way tastier. One of my biggest problems with American made yogurt is the sugar content. Most contain 20-30 grams of sugar which feels a bit high to me for such a little serving. Skyr on the other hand, contains only 4-10 grams - nearly half the amount of sugar! It also has 2-3 times the amount of protein found in other yogurt. Siggi's has a great section on the history and process of making skyr here.

I've tried about 3 of the flavors and have loved them all so far. As per my mom's recommendation (who is 100% Icelandic so I'd definitely trust her) - try adding a little milk to your serving with some fresh fruit!

Sunday, September 6, 2009

The Noncollapsible Cheese Souffle


I have made one other Julia Child, boeuf bourguinon, and realized near the end that I'd left out the "onion and mushroom garniture" completely. Oh well. Today, I read through our souffle recipe carefully before gathering the ingredients.


The souffle has a reputation for being temperamental, perhaps not worth the challenge. This recipe from The French Chef Cookbook, however, has "non-collapsable" in the title, the ingredient list is short (butter, eggs, milk, flour, minimal seasonings), and the instructions require no technique more complex than folding whites into sauce. If we can do any souffle, it should be this one!

Souffle Demoule Mousseline 
aka: The Noncollapsible Unmolded Cheese Souffle
by Julia Child, with cheese substitutions by Raven

Preliminaries: 
  • Baking Dish
  • 2-quart souffle dish
  • 1/2 T butter
  • 2 T finely-grated parmesan 
Preheat oven to 350. Put enough water in the baking dish so it will come at least halfway up the souffle dish; place dish of water in lower third of oven (remove souffle dish). Spread butter inside souffle dish, being sure bottom is especially well-coated; roll cheese around in dish to cover bottom and sides.*

* At this point we discovered my cheese was not sticking to the sides, which I've read is necessary for providing the souffle with a coarse wall to climb up. Melissa grabbed a large pinch of cheese and smashed it against the dish. We did this all the way around -- perhaps not an elegant preparation, but effective!

The Sauce Base:
  • 2 1/2 T butter
  • Heavy-bottomed saucepan
  • Wooden spoon
  • 3 T flour
  • 3/4 C milk
  • Wisk
  • 1/2 tsp salt
  • 1/8 tsp pepper
  • pinch of nutmeg
Melt butter in pan. (I used medium.) Stir in flour with wooden spoon and cook slowly, stirring for 2 minutes without browning. Remove from heat, let cool a moment, then beat in all hot milk, stirring vigorously with a wire wisk. Boil, storring for 1/2 minute (my mixture was way too thick to do anything like "boil," so I just turned on the heat for a moment. I doubt this did anything, but it made me feel like I was following directions.) Remove from heat, beat in salt, pepper and nutmeg.


Adding Eggs To Sauce Base
  • 3 eggs + 3 extra egg whites
  • Clean, dry bowl
  • Wisk or mixer
  • Pinch of salt
  • 1/4 tsp cream of tartar
  • 1 C coarsely grated cheese (Julia said swiss, I used cheddar + parmesan)
I will paraphrase the author's lengthy instructions: Separate yolks from whites. Begin beating whites in your stand-mixer, add tartar and salt, then wisk yolks into sauce base. When whites form soft peaks, stir 1/4 of them into the sauce base to thin it a bit. Then fold in the rest. Pour into prepared dish, place carefully into pan of water, then bake at 350 for 85 minutes. Blog while waiting.

The souffle is now baked, quite brown on top and much softer on the bottom -- I'd place it in the lowest rack of the oven next time. But! It's pretty delicious. Very cheesy and eggy, soft with crispiness on top and edges. I will definitely try again, with spinach or some other addition.

According to Julia: "Best of all, you can serve it unmolded so it makes a splendid effect, standing serenely on a platter." My unmolded souffle was far from serene, looking upside-dow, unevenly baked, and generally quite uncomfortable on its platter. I turned it back into the baking dish, where it seemed most at home. 

The cookbook came from a friend working at Julia Child's alma mater (among the school's many charming traditions that make me slightly jealous of the women's college experience: an annual Julia Child Day). The souffle dish I bought for $10 -- certainly not expensive, compared to many kitchen tools, but perhaps of limited use. However, I do love white porcelain serving ware -- if nothing else, my dish can stand serenely on a shelf between less-serene souffles.

Victoria Cupakes



Feeling a bit indecisive about what to make for our first posting, I decided to start with something simple and almost always a winner amongst even the pickiest of eaters: the cupcake. Having just received a living room full of wedding presents, I chose the recipe out of one of my newly acquired cookbooks - Cupcake Heaven. Not quite wanting to say goodbye to summer, I selected a recipe worthy of an outdoor picnic or BBQ, with fresh strawberries and homemade whip cream. They are almost more strawberry shortcake-esque than cupcake. Now if I only could have braved the rain this morning and got fresh strawberries from the Ballard farmer's market...sigh...QFC will have to do.

This is only the first recipe I've made from this bo
ok, so I can't really vouch for it's yumminess yet. Most of the recipes look pretty tasty, or at least have interesting presentations.

The recipe is extremely straightforward:

Ingredients
  • 1 stick of unsalted butter (room temperature)
  • 1/2 cup of granulated sugar
  • 2 eggs
  • 1 cup self-rising flour
  • 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
  • 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
To Decorate
  • 2 Tablespoons strawberry Jam (I like Bonne Maman)
  • 3/4 cup heavy cream (add some vanilla extract if you are using a whip cream maker to sweeten the mixture)
  • 8 oz strawberries, thickly sliced
  • confectioners' sugar for dusting
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

Beat the butter and sugar together until pale and fluffy, then beat in the eggs, one at a time. Combine the flour and baking powder and sift into the mixture. Fold in, then stir in the vanilla extract.

Spoon the mixture into the paper liners and bake in the preheated oven for about 17 minutes until risen and golden and a skewer inserted into the center comes out clean. Transfer to a wire rack to cool.

To decorate, using a serrated knife, carefully slice the top off each cupcake, down to the level of the paper liner. Spread each cupcake with abo
ut 1/2 teaspoon jelly.

Whip the cream and spoon on top of the jelly-covered cupcakes, then top with slices of strawberries. Replace the top of each cupcake and dust with confectioners' sugar.

Notes: Next time I would double the batter recipe as the cupcakes did not rise high enough to cup the tops off nicely. I would recommend making these cupcakes for an outdoor picnic or BBQ where you know they will be eaten right away. I anticipate these will end up a soggy mess of whip cream by tomorrow afternoon.

Makes 12

One of my favorite kitchen tools is my whip cream maker. Though sort of pricey, I think it's worth it as I'm sort of a snob about store bought whip cream and don't really enjoy standing around for 10-15 minutes whipping my cream into stiff peaks.

I generally use 1 pint of heavy whipping cream and add about 1-2 teaspoons of vanilla extract for a little sweetness. The whip cream only lasts about about 1 week, so make sure and thoroughly clean the container after it's expired.