I've recently become obsessed with different types of flour. At the WholeFoods by our yoga studio, I get mesmerized by the selection. Brown rice, almond, chestnut, tapioca, chickpea, quinoa, buckwheat, peanut, hazelnut...you name it! Essentially, take a bunch of cereal grains, seeds or roots, process it into a powder in a food processor and you've got flour! Financiers are almond flour based teacakes, made lighter by the use of egg whites. I recently saw a recipe on one of my favorite pastry blogs (Cannelle et Vanille) for a roasted pumpkin seed butter financier. Say what?! I had never used almond flour before and was excited to make my own nut-based butter. This recipe is adapted from her's although I replaced quinoa flour with whole wheat pastry flour. I love the earthy, slightly wheat taste it gives to the financiers and it also provides a more tender texture than regular whole wheat flour. I had been debating on what fruit to use as the topper, and in the end decided to go with cherries like I had seen on CetV. Olin happened to have picked up some beautiful bing cherries over the weekend and I loved the presentation of the cherry stalk sticking out from the middle of the cake. At the last minute though, I halved some of the cherries and stuck them skin-down into the batter. In terms of taste, these were my favorite: the sweetness of the cherries balanced really well with the roasted nutty flavors of the financier.
Pumpkin Seed Butter Financiers with Bing Sweet Cherries
Toast the pumpkin seeds with a little olive oil until crisp and golden. When cool, grind them to a fine powder in a food processor. Add the olive oil while processor is running to form a paste. Set aside.
Whisk together the egg whites and sugar. Add the almond and whole wheat pastry flours and the salt. Whisk to incorporate. Add the pumpkin seed butter.
Pipe the batter into 12 baking cups (about halfway full) and bake at 350F for about 10 minutes. Place a cherry (or the two halves of a sliced cherry) on top of each financier and bake for another 15-18 minutes until lightly golden on top.
Fresh warm tortillas and fixings: Sour cream, Chipotle pepper crema,
guacamole, tomatoes, and marinated shredded cabbage.
Golden, crunchy, crispy, munchy fish digits.
Mix Panko, flour, corn meal (medium),salt, pepper and cayenne to taste.
The grouper cut in strips in mix of egg, cream, Worcestershire, and mustard ready for dredging in bread crumb mix.
Yo mama's tortilla press recently purchased at Mexican grocery in Homestead.
When Bill Crabill asked what are my three favorite fish to catch and eat in South Florida, I was at a loss to limit the list to so few. Each of many species, we are ocassionally lucky enough to bring home straight from the cleaning table and into the pan, get my salivary glands worked up in a hurry. Since this post is about fish which I will usually fry for wrapping in a fresh, warm tortilla, I think I can make the list short. The top on my list is the elusive Snook, with its sweet, firm, white flesh. A close second is the weirdly configured, patron of buoys,, and flotsam,the wiley Tripletail. The delicate taste and texture of the Snapper, in almost all of its varieties, is hard to beat when blanketed by any form of bread. There, that wasn't so hard. But to leave off the list that reef maurauder, Mr. Grouper, or the ultimate nibbler, the Sheepshead, or the juvenile delinquent Baracuda (under five pounds), or the lowly Sand Perch, and who-is-always-on-any list, the Hogfish would be a serious omission. These are just the non pelagic species that will make you the king of 360 degree oil and dip and dredge. Mahi mahi, cobia, and wahoo are migrating favorites. Tonight's fare was black grouper.
Mothers are the givers of birth, life and usually great food. Brother's are the givers of blogs and quite particular ones at that, but I digress. I took this Mother's Day as an opportunity to give back to mine and Christy's by making a yummy brunch, that was preceded by a one hour yoga practice (which helps ensure hungry and complimentary eaters, and is highly recommended for all up and coming chefs). The recipes that follow are loosely defined and easily manipulated as most, and are incredibly difficult to screw up. For simplification, I portioned the ingredients below for servings of two, though the Sweet Potato hash would likely serve 8. It's quite filling. In addition to the dishes below, we served bagels with the lox, cream cheese and white fish, as well as endive's filled with smoked fish dip from none other than Joanna's.
Cinnamon Belgian Waffles
1 cup of 365 whole wheat pancake and waffle mix 1 organic egg 2/3 cup of hazelnut milk (can be substituted with almond, soy or whole milk) 1 tablespoon of vegetable oil 1 teaspoon of mom's vanilla extract cinnamon In a large bowl, crack the egg and beat it. Add the vanilla, oil, and hazelnut milk and mix. Add the waffle mix and whip it all up until the batter is smooth. Add cinnamon as desired. Next, place 3/4 cup of the mix into each side of the belgian waffle press and cook until crisp on the outside.
For Kiwi Syrup Reduction:
2 kiwis split and diced 1 banana cut into 1/2" pieces 6 strawberries cut into 1/2" pieces 1 tablespoon of organic butter 1 cup of maple syrup
On medium heat, place the butter and maples syrup in a small sauce pan or pot. Add the rest of the fruit and cook on medium/medium low for 20 minutes. Be sure to stir the fruit and continue to mash into smaller pieces every several minutes. Once the syrup has thickened, remove from heat. Your reduction is now ready to top the waffles!
Goat Cheese Scramby Eggs 4 large organic brown eggs (yes, they must be brown, even though there's no difference) 2 scallions cut into 1/2" pieces 1/2 head of brocolli diced finely 2 oz. of irish cheddar cheese 2 oz. of herb goat cheese 1 tablespoon of butter
In a medium sauce pan on medium heat, add butter, scallions and brocolli. Saute for 2-3 minutes. Next add the 4 eggs beaten, goat cheeze and irish cheddar. Scramble the mix for another 1-2 minutes. Do not let the eggs dry up, so as soon as they are firming up, serve them to a plate so they are off the heat. Add salt (truffle infused salt if you have it) and serve.
Sweet Potato and Chicken Hash
2 medium sweet potatos 1 medium apple 1 teaspoon of lemon juice 1 medium onion 3 cups of diced, cooked skinless turkey or chicken 1 tablespoon of fresh thyme 2 scallions 1/4 cup of cilantro
Place sweet potatoes in a medium saucepan, cover with lightly salted water and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium and cook for 10-12 minutes. Add apples and cook for another 3 minutes. Next, drain the water and transfer to a large bowl.
In a separate pan with a tablespoon of olive oil or coconut oil, add scallions and onion and cook for 2 minutes. Next, add 3 skinless, boneless chicken breasts, thyme and cook for 5 minutes or until tender. Remove the onions, thyme and scallions directly into the same bowl with the sweet potatoes. Place the chicken on a cutting board and shred into 1/4-1/2" pieces. Then add the chicken to the bowl as well.
Finally, mix the bowl of ingredients thoroughly and place back into a large sauce pan on medium heat. Dice and mash the ingredients while in sauce pan and heat for 5 minutes. Now, your hash is ready for serving.
As much as I have always loved cooking, especially in our kitchen-centered home, it is the magic that happens when you combine flour and water that has been my enduring fascination. Thus it is that my first posting on my "birthday blog" is a demonstration of baking sourdough bread from sourdough starter to finished loaf. I humbly submit this with a nod to a few of my heroes in the bread world: Peter Rheinhart, Nancy Silverton, Daniel Leader (not to be confused with our very own Danny Leder), Jeffrey Hamelman, Rose Levy Beranbaum and Chef Jonson of the French Culinary Institute.
Since I wanted this bread for our Sunday night dinner, I removed the "hungry" starter from the refrigerator on Friday morning to begin the "building" process and insure a healthy, active starter. After a week in the refrigerator, it appears flat with little activity. There a small bubbles on the top and a thin layer of alcohol floating on the top, a waste product of fernetation. (This alcohol is also called "hooch", after the Hoochinoo Indians, an Alaskan tribe, who made liquor. I pour this off before proceeding)I fed it 3 times on Friday at 6-8 hour intervals. First, let the starter sit on the counter for about and hour to take the chill off. Stir the starter, then measure out 4 ounces. Add to that 8 ounces of water, stir; then add 8 ounces bread flour and stir. Cover well. You will soon begin seeing some activity (a web of bubbles spread throughout) and the mixture will eventually begin to expand. (The magic...) (Be sure to feed the remaining starter, let stand for about an hour, then refrigerate for later use.)
Add water, stirring
Next stir in flour. Use starter in the recipe within twelve hours of the third feeding; 6 to 8 hours is optimal.
Making the Bread Dough
Flours combined in a large mixing bowl
Next combine the whole wheat and bread flour in a large mixing bowl. I make a "well" in the center where I will then add the wheat germ, water and sourdough starter. Hold back the salt for now.
Hand blending
Next, begin blending the wet and dry ingredients. At this point I try to add little or no flour, in spite of the temptation to make a sticky mass more manageable. Rustic bread doughs prefer to be on the wet side Also, as most bread recipes/books are not written for humid Miami where we live, I have managed to adjust my recipes slightly, as flour here holds more moisture naturally. You are just beginning to promote gluten strands, which is how the dough grows. (The magic begins...)
Kneading
Time for the first kneading. I have come to appreciate the facility of a one-handed kneading, thereby freeing a hand for the inevitable doorbell, telephone, timer, utensil, dog etc. When you knead, you are actually folding the dough over itself and turning it a quarter turn each successive time. Kneading will insure that the ingredients are well blended and distribute the yeast throughout. I do this first knead for about 6 or 7 minutes, or until the dough feels elastic and looks and feels like a round loaf (a "boule", French for "ball") that holds it's shape. (This is a great time for a little "standing meditation" - pay attention to what you are actually accomplishing here.)
The Autolyse
At this point, the dough ball "rests". This is called the "autolyse", also a French term.
Cover the with a proofing cloth or linen kitchen towel and let is rest for twenty minutes.
The autolyse allows the dough to absorb the moisture and will yield a less sticky and more elastic dough.
Ready next phase with board scraper, thermometer, and sea salt.
Adding salt to dough.
Here is where you add the salt. Salt tends to toughen the gluten fibers, thereby making a stiffer dough, more difficult to knead than the first time. You will immediately feel the difference. The dough should be kneaded until you get a smooth, elastic ball. This usually takes 6 or 7 minutes again. Now use your thermometer and check to see the temperature of the dough - you want 78 degrees - keep kneading until you get that reading- and a dough that has a satin "finish" to it compared to the earlier stage.
Oiled rising container
Place the dough in your well oiled bowl, or plastic container, and mark where the top of the dough comes to. Cover the container and place it in a draft-free area in a room 70 to 75 degrees if possible. You are now fermenting the dough - developing that great sourdough taste as the dough increases in volume. I let this rise take 4 hours, checking on it (marveling at it!!) to see how it is progressing. One way of making sure the dough is successfully risen is to make an indentation with your finger and look for a slow filling-in.
Once the dough has reached the desired volume , turn it onto your counter and gently deflate it. Turn the edges of the dough under to begin to achieve a ball shape. Let this dough ball rest under your cloth or towel for 15 minutes.
A floured proofing basket, or banneton
To shape the dough into a ball, place it on a counter with no flour under it - you want the friction of the counter to aid you. Wrap your hands around the dough and simultaneously turn it and pull it towards you. Turn the dough on its side and pinch the seam at the bottom with the heel of your hand to keep it closed. The skin on top of the dough will be tighter and smoother. smoother. With a strainer, lightly flour your proofing basket and place the dough into it with the smooth side down. Cover the dough with plastic wrap and "proof" for an hour at 70-75 degrees. Remove the plastic and, again with your strainer, sprinkle a little flour over the top of the dough. This dough is going to proof overnight in the refrigerator (more flavor development) - so cover it with a piece of plastic wrap and put it in the refrigerator until the next day. This step should not exceed 24 hours.
Next day: take dough out of refrigerator, remove plastic wrap and cover with your cloth or towel. Again proof at 70-75 degrees for 2-3 hours, or until the internal temperature has risen to 62 degrees.
While the dough is proofing, preheat your oven to 500 degrees. To try to simulate a very hot commercial oven, place a pizzastone or tiles on the bottom rack.
When you feel that your dough is proofed, dust the top with flour again. Then gently invert it onto a pizza peel that has either been floured or lined with a piece of parchment paper. You are ready to score the dough.
Scoring the dough
This is the part where I still feel the least adept. Scoring is the mechanism by which you slash the dough, allowing it to expand evenly in the oven. Essentially you are holding a blade, either a razor blade or a "lame" (French, of course,) at a 45 degree angle and making a 1/2 inch cut through the dough. These are the "blooms" you see on a loaf of French bread, or fancy cuts on other artisan breads. It is the thing in this whole process that always scares me the most - you only get one chance at your cut! At any rate, with this boule, with it's naturally ridged surface from proofing in a ridged basket, I try to stay within a ridge and score in a "C" shape, (following the shape of a ridge) and repeat on the corresponding side of the loaf. You could just as well put one slash, or a cross or any design you think suitable - this just seems to go with the loaf. I practiced this at home on clay after learning the basics at the French Culinary Institute!
Misting the oven
In an effort to simulate those great commercial steam ovens, I spray the oven walls and back with a fine mist of water immediately prior to putting in the dough. Reduce the oven temperature to 450 degrees. Then slide the peel, paper and all if you are using it, onto the hot stone; quickly remove the peel, close the door and repeat the "misting" twice more, every 2 minutes. (A total of 3 mists) . I accidentally hit the pictured loaf with a little water and you can see that the flour looks a little thick and brownish - try not to do that with a loaf that has flour on top. Check the bread after 25 minutes and rotate it if it is browning too much on one side. Continue baking for another 20 minutes, or until the internal temperature of the bread is 200-210 degrees. Remove bread from oven and place on a cooling rack. DO NOT SLICE until it has cooled! Your bread is still not totally finished cooking. ( This wait, not scoring, may actually be the hardest part of all.) To store this bread, wrap it in parchment paper and leave it at room temperature. You can re-crisp it in a 450 degree oven the next day for 5 minutes, or better yet,
toast a piece for breakfast and enjoy with a cappuccino!
Since I began dabbling in the kitchen, I've found the nuances of pastry to appeal to the more regimented side of my personality. I enjoy following recipes. I find security in measurements, safety in the calibrations on my scale as opposed to adding a pinch of this or eyeballing a tablespoon of that. That was until I was gifted Michael Ruhlman'sRatio: The Simple Codes Behind the Craft of Everyday Cooking (thank you Fensters!), which really opened my eyes to the whimsical, yet safe, nature of baking. Ruhlman deduces pies, biscuits, breads and cakes into easy-to-remember ratios. His 3-2-1 (3 parts flour to 2 parts fat to 1 part water) pie crust is showcased here. In baking you have to follow a certain set of rules, but after you know these rules you can break, manipulate and skew them to your liking. Proving that you don't need a recipe to bake, but actually more of an imagination.
Combine ingredients, cover and refrigerate. Roll out a large circle and lay the dough over the pie plate. Cut the surplus of dough, leaving only 1 inch hanging over the plate. The rest of dough will be used to make strips for the lattice crust.
Place sugar, spices, zest and cornstarch in a bowl and stir to combine. Add the diced rhubarb and toss until rhubarb is thoroughly combined with the sugar mixture. Pour mixture into the pie base.
For Lattice crust:
Cut ¾-inch-wide strips from the remaining dough, approximately the length of the pie plate. Place five strips horizontally across the plate, evenly spaced. Fold the first, third and fifth strips back on themselves. Position your first vertical strip beside the horizontal strips you just pulled back. Straighten out the strips and pull the second and fourth strip back to where you positioned the first vertical strip. Lay the second vertical strip (equal distance from the first) and lengthen out the second and fourth horizontal strips. Continue until the whole pie is covered. Trim any extra dough and (with your thumb and forefinger) pinch together the strips and dough along the circumference of the pie dish.
Bake at 425 for 1 to 1¼ hours or until fruit is bubbling and crust is golden brown.
I’m not much for essentialism, but if I was, roast chicken might occupy the top of my essentialist manifesto. For all I can tell, the older I get, and the more I attempt to broaden my palette, the more that simple ol’ roast chicken seems to secure itself in the pole position of best food ever.Unbeknownst to me, chickens’ long domestic evolution may have been guided by no factor more fervently than taste, but if so, what an accomplishment. A well roasted chicken, and lord knows there are countless ways to do ‘em good, yields a depth of flavor and texture that seems to drive to the heart of what it means to be a carnivore. Nicole and I now have roast chicken dinner every Sunday.
The recipe below, which my lovely wife and I enjoyed in the company of our dear friends Conrad, Larissa and their new son, Jasper, is cobbled together from several sources. The chicken itself is from Jimmy Bradley, owner of the Red Cat in New York. He claims that deboning the chicken is the secret to his (widely acknowledged) success. It allows the meat to lie flat in the pan, maximizing the amount of even heat distributed to the bird. Deboning a chicken, while daunting, is actually not hard at all, and the cooked chicken sits a bit more stately on the plate, offering no bones to distract the eater. Bradley also cooks the chicken pieces skin-side-down in a canola oil (for its high smoke point). For me, this was a minor revelation in the kitchen. For reasons that in retrospect seem obvious, orienting the chicken with the skin down affords it a dense, crispy, well constituted character that I had only ever eaten in (good) restaurants. I suppose in the end the skin, sitting in a small puddle of oil and fat, is technically fried. But who really cares when it’s that good.
The cauliflower mash is from my brother. I add the pimenton, lemon and cheese, dismounting the dish from its non-dairy pedestal, but elevating it to something with a little more depth.
The jus is from Thomas Keller. Specifically, Roasted Guinea Fowl en Crepinette de Byaldi with Pan Jus in the French Laundry Cookbook. It’s involved, but like many things that take time, judiciously rewarding. I added in the chanterelles and their reconstituting liquids. Five minutes into dinner, Nicole exclaimed,” I love the jus!”. Jody, who was bar mitzvah’d at 13, replied,” Gee, thanks.”
Pan Roasted Chicken with Pan and Chanterelle Jus, Parmesan Cauliflower Mash
For chicken:
2 3-3.5lb organic chickens, deboned and separated into breast/wing and leg/thigh pieces
2 tbsp canola oil
1 tbsp olive oil
Salt and pepper
For jus:
Leftover bones/carcasses of 2 chickens
2 ½ cupschicken stock
2 ½ cupswater
1 cup leeks chopped into ½” mirepoix
1 cup onion chopped into ½” mirepoix
1 cup carrots chopped into ½” mirepoix
1 oz dried chanterelle mushrooms
¼ cup canola oil
For broccolini:
2 bunches broccolini
3-4 cippolini onions
For red pearl onions:
20 red pearl onions
1 tbsp olive oil
Salt
For cauliflower mash:
1 head cauliflower
2 tbsp olive oil
3 tbsp grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
1 tsp pimento (Spanish smoked paprika)
Juice of half a lemon
Preheat the oven to 450.
Generously salt the chicken pieces and place them, uncovered, on a plate and put in the refrigerator. (This can be done a day in advance to the chicken’s benefit, though admittedly I did not do this the last time I cooked it. Leaving the chicken uncovered allows the fridge to suck moisture out of the birds’ skin which makes for a crispier roast.) When you are ready to cook the chickens, heat a couple tablespoons of canola oil in two large oven-proof pans over high heat until the oil is piping hot. Place the chicken pieces SKIN SIDE DOWN in the pans and arrange in such a way so that they are not overlapping at all. Fry for about 3-5 minutes, until the skin begins to color, and then transfer to the oven. Cook for about 20 minutes or until the liquid that comes out when the meat is punctured is clear.
Meanwhile, in a medium sized saucepan heat 4 cups of water to a boil. Remove the pan from the heat and add dried chanterelles and give a quick stir. Allow these to sit and reconstitute for 15 minutes and then strain the mushrooms, reserving about ¼ cup of liquid.
In a large braising pan or pot, heat the ¼ cup of canola oil until it’s really hot. Place the chicken bones in the pan such that they are all touching the bottom surface of the pan to the extent possible. Cook over high heat until they begin to brown and then flip them, about 10 minutes. After another five minutes, flip them once again and continue to cook until they are well browned, about 20 minutes total. Drain off the oil thoroughly, and add ½ of water to the pan, scraping the pan vigorously with a wooden spoon to deglaze. Let the water evaporate almost completely, until the pan is re-glazed, and then add ½ cup of chicken stock. Cook until this has evaporated, and then add the chopped vegetables. The moisture from the vegetables will sweat down to the pan bottom and allow you to deglaze again. Let this cook for about 10 minutes and then add 2 cups each of water and stock, and the reserved chanterelle reconstituting liquid. Allow to cook over high heat until reduced by about a third, and then strain through a colander (removing the carcass/bones first will make this easier), and then through a chinois, back into a medium sized saucepan. Add chanterelles and cook over medium-high heat until the jus is reduced to about ¾ cup.
For the mash, divide the cauliflower head into florets and steam until well cooked through, about 15 minutes. Put florets in a food processor and, adding the olive oil, process until smooth. Add pimenton, lemon juice and parmesan and blend for another 30 seconds.
For the broccolini, heat a tablespoon of olive oil in a medium-sized pan and cook the cippolini onions until translucent. Add the broccolini florets and sauté until just cooked, about 5 minutes. Salt to taste.
For the pearl onions, lightly coat in olive oil and roast for about 15 minutes, or until translucent. (I do this in the toaster oven as the big oven is busy roasting chicken, but you could throw them in the regular oven with the chicken for about 10 minutes instead.)
To assemble the dish, put a small mound of mash off center on the plate. Lean a piece of chicken against this and surround with the broccolini, pearl onions and chanterelles. Finish with a few spoons of the jus.
