tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59805163917474743142024-03-12T19:07:41.059-07:00You Put WHAT in This?!?Taking a culinary bullet for youJoe J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17884182499425185610noreply@blogger.comBlogger15125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980516391747474314.post-68132796672941275662009-08-18T21:11:00.000-07:002009-08-25T21:58:58.177-07:00Preserved Lemons #3 - Haddock En Papillote<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf8wdSHuQvJCE2CvGJncxaHxN9OIob92Bce7zy1tZUJmFQWTjq59j2FxRzwqk2uuKkIk1JR9SzlrPPE1QbZs3QBSd0xdEMEc9-x7JL4rWX5txEmy3NldL36IPzOlPgwR2U7PcPAaMSr9Ns/s1600-h/fish_paper_main.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 327px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf8wdSHuQvJCE2CvGJncxaHxN9OIob92Bce7zy1tZUJmFQWTjq59j2FxRzwqk2uuKkIk1JR9SzlrPPE1QbZs3QBSd0xdEMEc9-x7JL4rWX5txEmy3NldL36IPzOlPgwR2U7PcPAaMSr9Ns/s400/fish_paper_main.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374130122788846898" /></a><br />I was pondering how to use my preserved lemons to make a fish dish, and I happened to watch an episode of "Top Chef: Masters", which just wrapped up, where one of the cheftestants was inspired by the concept of "Mystery" to make a fish dish <i>en papillote</I>, which means it was baked in paper (usually parchment, but sometimes aluminum foil or paper bags) with some other goodies. This put the idea into my head of using my preserved lemons in an "en papillote" dish of my own. <br /><br />I went to the grocery store and looked through the selection of frozen fish. I settled on a pair of large frozen haddock loins, for no particular reason other than they weren't particularly expensive (as opposed to my first choice, halibut, which WAS), and it was a nice, firm fish, and relatively healthy. <br /><br />To go in the paper package with the fish, I bought a box of couscous, a can of chickpeas, some scallions and some mushrooms. I had some fish stock at home I wanted to use, along with the lemons and the olives from my first attempt at using preserved lemons.<br /><br />So, the day before I made this, I placed the frozen haddock loins in my refrigerator to thaw. The next day, I prepared the couscous by emptying the box of couscous into a bowl, along with the drained can of chickpeas. I brought two cups of fish stock, some turmeric for color, a generous pinch of cinnamon, and a generous pat of butter to a boil, and poured it over the couscous and chickpeas, and let them sit.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />(Note: None of the measurements in this are very precise; it's a very flexible, forgiving recipe)</span><br /><br />Meanwhile, I preheated my oven to 400 degrees. Then I diced the bunch of green onions (8 of them), and thinly sliced about 1 cup of fresh mushrooms. I also minced about 1/4 cup of green olives and I took out 4 preserved lemon quarters, which got their pulp and pith removed. These were finely sliced into thin strips and set aside. Finally, I took out the two thawed haddock loins and cut them in half cross-wise.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcUICxkcFUMOsaHwNLbJC0Qf69kU5EQA2rfyPOxZjoan-ZxSEGiY8hjon1BH6yvxTOcVdTTdG320kKfmOBXsKWTXGKnmzL_wgoxHI_jCCQE_3xq0zS9daaGzSKW9MubW392OwGKt8HZZfv/s1600-h/fish_paper1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:2px 2px 2px 2px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 130px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcUICxkcFUMOsaHwNLbJC0Qf69kU5EQA2rfyPOxZjoan-ZxSEGiY8hjon1BH6yvxTOcVdTTdG320kKfmOBXsKWTXGKnmzL_wgoxHI_jCCQE_3xq0zS9daaGzSKW9MubW392OwGKt8HZZfv/s320/fish_paper1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374131705489328546" /></a>Now that the prep work was done, it was time to do the assembly. I took out my roll of parchment paper, and cut 4 large squares from it (side note: parchment paper is easy to find at any supermarket; it's in the same section as the aluminum foil, although you may prefer using foil). I laid one piece of paper on a dinner plate, and put 1/4 of the couscous and chickpeas onto it. Then I sprinkled over 1/4 each of the green onions, olives, and mushrooms. On top of that, I laid one piece of the haddock loin and then carefully laid out one bunch of the sliced lemon peel over that, and salted and peppered the mixture. Finally, since I was feeling a bit fancy, <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPX_dL_LkTx_un9Vf8LnvYUCrIQGdUhADveo7KRyE7imhifoQgnIKWX0RXw-2HF0j2wHuv0nc74YetV1ufhI2qLCoNuN725SQHPoC0QNdN0hOKNOia68i95Mnf8qYQ5ctNahk3FIDY1vyL/s1600-h/fish_paper2.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:5px 0 5px 5px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPX_dL_LkTx_un9Vf8LnvYUCrIQGdUhADveo7KRyE7imhifoQgnIKWX0RXw-2HF0j2wHuv0nc74YetV1ufhI2qLCoNuN725SQHPoC0QNdN0hOKNOia68i95Mnf8qYQ5ctNahk3FIDY1vyL/s320/fish_paper2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374127467348965810" /></a>I finished it off by pouring a generous splash of white wine over everything. Then I took the four corners of the paper and brought them to the center over the fish, and bound them together by wrapping some twine around the bunched paper and tying it off. Into the oven they went, for 20 minutes - the bag the haddock came in said 15, but I wanted to be sure. And...<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRAiapMcWKZGwxbQBmIABqUUJV-0SuvpW2Qs7CfvUpmNSPa_7T6_Kw1SB1qSkxxBhlNHoVvRxliPOOtvZmmkCVDt2sd-ZyRfhxw6IDTCXLCOELJqIcZ-PQnhc8ODjW-e0WykYlH8tV5Dzw/s1600-h/fish_paper3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRAiapMcWKZGwxbQBmIABqUUJV-0SuvpW2Qs7CfvUpmNSPa_7T6_Kw1SB1qSkxxBhlNHoVvRxliPOOtvZmmkCVDt2sd-ZyRfhxw6IDTCXLCOELJqIcZ-PQnhc8ODjW-e0WykYlH8tV5Dzw/s320/fish_paper3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374127644810556082" /></a><br />Everything came out nice and neat and perfectly done. The flavors all melded together nicely, and the parchment paper held up to cooking just fine - no drips, tears or leakage making a mess in my baking dish. The fish was flaky and delicious, and tasted faintly of the lemon peel. The couscous had absorbed all of the flavors in the parcel - the onion,mushroom, fish and lemon were all detectable and it was delicious. A definite cook-again, although next time I'm going to use bigger fish fillets or maybe try it with some large shrimp or even mix some bay scallops into the couscous with the lemon and make a sort of miniature fish casserole.Joe J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17884182499425185610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980516391747474314.post-9590517105322085002009-08-06T21:32:00.000-07:002009-08-18T21:11:37.110-07:00Cooking with HeartAnd I don't mean that in a "taste the love, hootie-hoo" kind of way, either. <br /><br />Valentine's Day 2007 found me in a particularly black mood. I decided to celebrate the holiday of love by taking one of it's most beloved symbols - the heart - and doing something special with it.<br /><br />So I took a beef heart, slow-cooked it in red wine and beef stock for three hours, and ate it. Like I said, a black mood. And actually, it was quite tasty. Seriously, I would recommend everyone trying to cook with a beef heart at least once - it's a cheap cut of meat, and it's nutritious, flavorful, and if cooked properly it's quite tender. Good stuff.<br /><br />So, recently I'd been thinking about that dish and decided to try doing something a little fancier with it. I pondered making a classic <span style="font-style:italic;">Bœuf bourguignon</span>, but I found an old church cookbook my grandmother gave me that had a simpler, somewhat bastardized version of that recipe, which had an appropriately less-fancy name of Beef Burgundy.<br /><br />I purchased a nice two-pound heart from the grocery store (you can see in the picture the valves were trimmed out - are we hungry yet?). Beef heart is actually quite cheap, and I was hoping that by braising it and slow-cooking it in the crockpot for several hours, it would turn into a nice, tender, tasty cut of meat.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOiH3igqiNhN9M9TlrN5-8QOLnX5aLzDIrxquLoyvFf9TT3aO3SLDrBLqt4vtTJOxSh9Ipqc70cWotuVRsqSlazHQHF53Kyer3sFPI_NxQ57H9f66c4-cD5oMYjYgk2gRVB07HqcXXN43B/s1600-h/heart_raw.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOiH3igqiNhN9M9TlrN5-8QOLnX5aLzDIrxquLoyvFf9TT3aO3SLDrBLqt4vtTJOxSh9Ipqc70cWotuVRsqSlazHQHF53Kyer3sFPI_NxQ57H9f66c4-cD5oMYjYgk2gRVB07HqcXXN43B/s320/heart_raw.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367079390402917170" /></a><center><span style="font-style:italic; font-size:10pt;">Ah, Flossie - nobody had a heart as big as yours, old girl. Or as succulent.</span></center><br /><br />So, the first step was to make a seasoned flour mix of flour, thyme, salt, and pepper, and dredge the beef heart in it. While that was sitting and allowing the flour to permeate it, I heated up some oil and some chopped bacon in a large pan and fried until crispy. The bacon was removed and into the bacon-y oil I chucked some onions and some nice quartered baby bella mushrooms. After those were cooked a bit, they were set aside and it was time for the heart to get browned in the frying pan. Typically for Beef Burgundy (or <i>bourginion</i>, if you prefer), you used cubes of stew beef, but I decided to leave the heart whole while it simmered and carve it at the end of cooking.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghEDiScPGxufhQP39XqdJjEPKS7HwD4FKnyb9nbCfu_wixcuGt5Npbn_7FFynrNUzGM3tfhPZH9ineg809wHwWvyTOqraChV9AP0ENwIHNTa7_TQeITQGeNizdKwbYoavIfN5gwYv7gMf4/s1600-h/heart_floured.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghEDiScPGxufhQP39XqdJjEPKS7HwD4FKnyb9nbCfu_wixcuGt5Npbn_7FFynrNUzGM3tfhPZH9ineg809wHwWvyTOqraChV9AP0ENwIHNTa7_TQeITQGeNizdKwbYoavIfN5gwYv7gMf4/s320/heart_floured.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367083693155417970" /></a><br /><br />So, with the heart browned all over, I set it aside and took out my crockpot. I heated up some beef stock and some Burgundy wine, and added the heart to the liquid. Lid on, set it on HIGH, and I went off to clean house a bit while the heart cooked, and slowly tenderized from the acidic wine.<br /><br />Three hours later, the onions and mushrooms joined the simmering heart in the crock pot for one hour, and voila - done! I wasn't very happy with the thickness of the liquid in the pot, though, so I whipped up a little thickening agent with some flour, melted butter, and some juices from the crockput, and stirred that back in and cooked it for another 15 minutes.<br /><br />Now that it was finished, I took the heart out of the crockpot and cut it into cubes.<br />You can see from the picture that the appearance and texture of a cooked heart really isn't that distinguishable from other cuts of beef.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieZOlERqHKnepNQpIM24_hGL7v-R8JrKS3Pwzi1hi_NVDGeu8jm1pnJDafcwSnE4Ju4Fz3UGYAzrphmeM-uF0b1P12kVB-bMtFxDnj6jHRTaVwAdnqUqHIL1w5YXCZS6n_8enxzi2o4Cnj/s1600-h/heart_carved.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieZOlERqHKnepNQpIM24_hGL7v-R8JrKS3Pwzi1hi_NVDGeu8jm1pnJDafcwSnE4Ju4Fz3UGYAzrphmeM-uF0b1P12kVB-bMtFxDnj6jHRTaVwAdnqUqHIL1w5YXCZS6n_8enxzi2o4Cnj/s320/heart_carved.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367083760348676530" /></a><br /><br />I boiled some whole-grain egg noodles to go with, and dished myself up a plate. I thought it was quite tasty - the hours of slow-cooking had made the heart tender and easy to cut. It still had a very slight rubbery texture to it and also a slight gamey taste that made me think of venison, believe it or not, but still delicious. However, a 2-lb heart made a LOT of Beef Burgundy, so decided to take a bit in to work and see how people liked it.<br /><br />Not that I was going to TELL them what it was, mind you.<br /><br />So, I dished up some noodles and beef into a Tupperware container and gave it to my boss' assistant. She took it home for lunch, and I took the container I brought for myself and heated it up in our break room. The first person I gave this to was our accountant, who took one bite, and proclaimed it "good". She wasn't fooled for a second, though - apparently she'd eaten much stranger foods, and while she didn't quite get what it was she was eating, she knew it was not typical beef and she didn't really care. Poo - I was hoping for a more dramatic reaction. Oh well.<br /><br />As I was heading back to the break room, I crossed paths with one of the ladies from our HR department. I asked her to try it. She took a bite, and proclaimed it delicious and it was "sooo gooooood".<br /><br />Then I told her what she'd eaten. Her eyes bugged out, and she immediately turned and hurried into the ladies' room. AH, now that was more like it. <br /><br />Meanwhile, my boss' assistant came back from her lunch break. I asked her if she liked it. She gave me a VERY tight-lipped smile, and said "I liked the mushrooms."<br /><br />Me: "How about the beef?"<br />Her: "Yes, I had a piece of the beef. I liked the <i>mushrooms</i>."<br /><br />Enough said.<br /><br />The final unwitting subject was our receptionist. I honestly wouldn't have offered her a taste, but she could smell it and remarked that it smelled delicious, so of course I HAD to offer her a taste. She tried it, and liked it. At least, she did until I told her what part of the cow she was eating, and without the slightest hesitation, she turned her head, opened her mouth, and leaned forward slightly, letting the half-chewed piece of heart hit the countertop with a <i>splat</i>.<br /><br />Her: "I can't BELIEVE you let me eat a cow heart, you ASSHOLE!"<br />Me: "I can't BELIEVE I didn't wait until you'd actually SWALLOWED it to tell you!"<br /><br />I still have a Zip-loc bag of the leftovers in my freezer. I think I'll save it for the next church potluck.Joe J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17884182499425185610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980516391747474314.post-12069924400361836552009-08-04T12:22:00.000-07:002009-08-10T22:18:50.717-07:00S'mac me upside the headI'm trying to stay on a diet at the moment, and so far I'm doing good (7 lbs in 2 1/2 weeks - yeah, baby), and feeling good... <br /><br />...and then I stumble across the website of a restaurant like <a href="http://smacnyc.com/what.html">this</a>, and Oh. My. Gawd. I suddenly want to bolt to my grocery store and empty out their dairy aisle.Joe J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17884182499425185610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980516391747474314.post-54054462564292457502009-07-27T19:12:00.000-07:002009-08-03T10:26:59.576-07:00Eggs-traordinary aggravationOh, c'mon - I'm allowed a horrible pun once in a while. Cooking that deals with eggs has never been my strong point. I mean, sure, the first "real" cooking I ever did without the supervision of an adult was scrambled eggs (in the microwave) and they turned out perfectly, but beyond that I've always had issues. I don't know why. Making an omelette is a crap shoot - I've got even chances to pull it off perfectly, or having it split into two or three pieces mid-flip, leaving me swearing up a blue streak and mangling it into the scrambled egg equivalent of a ten-car pileup with my fork out of spite. Basic fried eggs? Not a problem... as long as you don't mind the underside being a blotchy white and yellow mess of hard-cooked yolk, the casualty of never being able to lift it quickly and cleanly enough to keep the still-raw yolk from sliding right off the spatula, and swan-diving to its splattery end in the skillet, leaving me to gently lay the cooked portion still on my spatula over it like a burial shroud. <br /><br />The one thing that I have NEVER been able to pull off perfectly, though, has been a pie meringue. This is particularly galling for me, since I like to make desserts more than anything else, and I LOVE the lemon meringue pie recipe from "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Joy-Cooking-75th-Anniversary-2006/dp/0743246268/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1249320375&sr=8-1">The Joy of Cooking</a>." But even using their foolproof method for meringue, mine always "weeps". That is, shortly after it comes out of the oven it develops those small dark brown spots of syrup on top, which is a sign of an inferior meringue. One attempt I made was so pathetic that instead of small weeping drops, I actually had several puddles of syrupy imperfection all over it.<br /><br />However, recently I found I had a nearly-empty bottle of <a href="http://www.keylimejuice.com/">Nellie and Joe's Key West Lime juice</a> in the back of my refrigerator, just enough for a single key lime pie, and I just so happened to also have a can of sweetened condensed milk sitting in my cupboard. Key lime pie is probably the easiest pie in the world to make - you use a simple graham cracker crust of crumbs and butter. The pie filling only has three ingredients. The pie itself only takes 20 minutes to bake. And it is the only pie I love more than lemon meringue. Normally I see (and myself top) key lime pie with real whipped cream, but I realized that I would have 4 egg whites sitting around unused after I placed the required four egg yolks in the pie filling. I thought "what the hell", and went about making a meringue to top this pie off with. I used the "foolproof" method again, which basically means a few extra fussy steps of boiling some water, cornstarch, and sugar into a thick glue that is allowed to cool a bit and then gets stirred into the meringue prior to topping the pie. Eggs whipped, "glue" incorporated, spatula out, meringue dabbed onto pie. Then, the whole thing was shoved into the preheated oven, and I got down on my knees and f*cking PRAYED.<br /><br />It came out of the oven looking nicely browned. Half an hour later, I was cautiously optimistic. No weeping. An hour later, still nothing and I oh-so-carefully slid it into my refrigerator and went to bed with a glimmer of hope in my heart. The next morning, I opened my refrigerator with crossed fingers, and was greeted by my very first, perfectly baked, weep-free meringue pie. Because I HAD MADE A PERFECT MERINGUE. FINALLY, perfection with eggs had been reached. Much hooting, hollering, fist-pumping, and an attempted cartwheel ensued. I was ecstatic.<br /><br /><center><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkJlf7kWVPN869MQQh3oeDqLuifT7dH9Y_fkbvqbeZuRVhDegZDxfc6SnSK7T6W8wU0TKaa4PYKkcBOlFPF1JGe7jOmVU6eIMsYiJsFElJODk1K3ErDpkw20L6P5zawZe9NzyQGpssaK7t/s1600-h/meringue_top.jpg"><img style="float:middle; margin:0 5px 5px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 317px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkJlf7kWVPN869MQQh3oeDqLuifT7dH9Y_fkbvqbeZuRVhDegZDxfc6SnSK7T6W8wU0TKaa4PYKkcBOlFPF1JGe7jOmVU6eIMsYiJsFElJODk1K3ErDpkw20L6P5zawZe9NzyQGpssaK7t/s320/meringue_top.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363339288448591234" /></a></center><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU2QFugFOiN20PJ_oB8nrgiT-hkXF5Oo5-mNCp5veuaWXGtGtyzmOi72QTRoa6rM9s9ZyoOGjBwwZDcizdxjxyPYCGr50yNPQ7nWFyHnmKPV1na3vHj_TrtIiKgviHm_KZ2vCz-Sroemqr/s1600-h/meringue_side.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 2px 2px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 152px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU2QFugFOiN20PJ_oB8nrgiT-hkXF5Oo5-mNCp5veuaWXGtGtyzmOi72QTRoa6rM9s9ZyoOGjBwwZDcizdxjxyPYCGr50yNPQ7nWFyHnmKPV1na3vHj_TrtIiKgviHm_KZ2vCz-Sroemqr/s320/meringue_side.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365576465351628210" /></a>Look at it. Not a blemish, not a spot of dark brown ooze anywhere. The jagged little peaks I made by dabbing at the meringue with my spatula held their shape, and turned that lovely dark brown shade. Sheer perfection! So happy, I was, and it was with great pride that I took it to where I worked and presented it in our company breakroom.<br /><br />Within a minute, two co-workers confessed the "weeping" was their favorite part of a meringue.<br /><br />I wonder if they'd notice the next time I baked a cake if I substituted castor oil for vegetable oil. Weep over THAT, you bastards. Grrr.Joe J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17884182499425185610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980516391747474314.post-29540577916415270432009-07-24T22:44:00.000-07:002009-07-24T22:58:16.198-07:00Stewed Lemon Chicken - Attempt #2For my second attempt at using preserved lemons, I went back to a simpler recipe: one whole chicken in a crockpot. This time I was looking to avoid the overpowering flavor of the olives and bringing out the lemons more. I wasn't feeling particularly adventurous this time, so I stuck with flavors that I knew would work with chicken and lemon: just some fresh rosemary and garlic.<br /><br />I only used two quarters of preserved lemon for this one. I scooped the pulp out of the quarters and set those aside. Then I trimmed away a bit of the pith, and minced the rind. I also took two big sprigs of fresh rosemary (courtesy of my Mom planting it in a box on my patio during one visit - thanks Mom!), stripped the leaves and minced those as well, adding them to the lemon rind. Then I chopped one large, fat clove of garlic and added that to the lemon and rosemary, and then whisked in some olive oil to all that to make a sort of chunky paste.<br /><br />Next, I took my chicken (a 3 1/2 lb. roaster), and carefully separated the skin from the breast with my paring knife - this was the only tricky part, since it's hard for me to get under the chicken skin far enough towards the neck without tearing it near the cavity. I stuffed as much of the lemon-rosemary paste under the skin as I could, and then put it in the crockpot. I drizzled some olive oil over the chicken, and rubbed it over the surface, both to coat the chicken and also to distribute the lemon-rosemary paste a bit under the skin. I threw in some new potatoes and some unpeeled cloves of garlic around the chicken, and stuffed the pulp from the lemon quarters into the cavity of the chicken. Then I sprinkled a generous amount of Kosher salt over the chicken, and also a ground pepper blend for spiciness, and tucked a sprig of rosemary under each leg of the chicken. Lid on, set the crockpot to low, and off to the office I go!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjuW2ZczIYhuJBanYZUkYafAoBAglqry-jHhzh_VZb_Cq_wSz0ug5bE_eARJWigoEOydO5PiVFK-aK1R3llfmuHApciFEM0R5FvKFOJdnpRfLu-HW-2WhJEGMEvUdPZGYedSQzYYCekNIW/s1600-h/roast_chicken_before.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjuW2ZczIYhuJBanYZUkYafAoBAglqry-jHhzh_VZb_Cq_wSz0ug5bE_eARJWigoEOydO5PiVFK-aK1R3llfmuHApciFEM0R5FvKFOJdnpRfLu-HW-2WhJEGMEvUdPZGYedSQzYYCekNIW/s320/roast_chicken_before.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362272595905059522" /></a><I>Before</I><br /><br />Nine hours later, I got home and my kitchen smelled delightfully of garlic, rosemary, and lemon. The chicken had stewed in it's own juices and was a nice golden brown. The garlic cloves were soft and mushy and sweet and nutty and the potatoes were easily pierced with a fork. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdwa50KlskBjZTtD62nPVqiBE11_7MbjK0UHhfDObBNxxdAbB2DP5L_aory6zkniJCuyKgu0bn6y5U7t4Uwx_RzYtctxoeCLRZh7ZjN1E7iG3kPZ-FcW-FcIfaV2aKBuQeu4sMB9xxmbft/s1600-h/roast_chicken_after.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdwa50KlskBjZTtD62nPVqiBE11_7MbjK0UHhfDObBNxxdAbB2DP5L_aory6zkniJCuyKgu0bn6y5U7t4Uwx_RzYtctxoeCLRZh7ZjN1E7iG3kPZ-FcW-FcIfaV2aKBuQeu4sMB9xxmbft/s320/roast_chicken_after.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362272824765793458" /></a><span style="font-style:italic;" size="-1">After</span><br /><br />This turned out a LOT better than the previous preserved lemon recipe. The chicken was tender and falling off the bone, and both it and the potatoes tasted wonderful from sitting in the herb-garlic-lemon-enhanced chicken juices. I just mushed the potatoes a bit and smeared the soft garlic cloves into them, and spooned the juice from the chicken over them and the chicken, and everything was deeeeeeee-licious. The flavor of the lemons was noticeable, but not overpowering, and nothing needed more salt or pepper. <br /><br />I'm definitely going to be revisiting this recipe next time whole chickens are on sale, but I think the next time I use the lemons, I'm going to try then with seafood and see how that goes. I have to say, it was really heartening to find a dish I really liked that used the preserved lemons after the unpleasant encounter with those DAMN OLIVES AND YES I AM STILL HATING ON THOSE THINGS.Joe J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17884182499425185610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980516391747474314.post-32630946281282583572009-07-12T21:12:00.000-07:002009-07-12T22:03:05.410-07:00Moroccan Chicken with Preserved LemonsThis was the first recipe that I used my preserved lemons on, which is courtesy of the Epicurious website - you can read the whole recipe <a href="http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Moroccan-Chicken-with-Preserved-Meyer-Lemons-and-Green-Olives-102732">here</a>. I'm thinking this is actually a pretty common recipe, because I looked at about six different versions of the recipe before settling on this one. The others either <a href="http://closetcooking.blogspot.com/2009/05/moroccan-chicken-tagine-with-olives-and.html">asked for ingredients I didn't have</a> (I don't keep harissa on hand, typically), or used <a href="http://www.waitrose.com/recipe/Moroccan_Chicken_with_Preserved_Lemon_and_Olives.aspx">chicken livers</a> (not a line I'm willing to cross for this blog just yet).<br /><br />So, I set to work on this recipe. I did the whole <span style="font-style:italic;">mise en place</span> to start, and right away I ran into a little trouble. You see, the recipe called for 16 pitted green olives. I'd bought them with pits. No biggie - not hard to pit an olive, or so I thought. Apparently, olives are different from cherries and avocadoes in the sense that while cherries and avocadoes can have their pits coaxed out of them pretty easily, olives HANG the F*CK ON to their pits with their FINGERNAILS. My first three attempts at pitting an olive wound up with me nearly slicing my finger open with my knife, and the accursed pits lying on my cutting board, glaring at me triumphantly with tatters of olive flesh hanging off of them, in a puddle of brine.<br /><br />The irrational part of my mind took over. Instead of satisfying my mouth's curiosity towards preserved lemon, I would satisfy my ears with the statisfying crunch the pits would make... when I crushed them with my claw hammer. Unfortunately, the pits were slippery and hitting them with a hammer only caused them to shoot across my kitchen and hit the far wall. I was completely frustrated at this point, but then I noticed that only the pit had gone flying - the flesh of the olive (what was left of it) was still on the cutting board. That was an "A-HA" moment I needed, and I dumped out the 16 olives I needed, and proceeded to GENTLY squish each one with the flat side of my knife. The pits came out pretty easily, and I cut the olive flesh into strips. The rest of the recipe proceeded smoothly; it's not a hard one to pull off. And the finished product looked just like the <a href="http://www.epicurious.com/images/recipesmenus/1999/1999_december/102732.jpg">photo from the recipe</a>.<br /><br />And for all that... I didn't like the finished product. I'm not the biggest fan of green olives, save for in martinis, and the taste of the olives kind of overpowered most of the other ingredients, except for the preserved lemon. Which, I don't think I cut out enough of the pith from the lemon before putting them in this recipe - they were too bitter, although the lemon flavor itself was incorporated nicely into the chicken breast, which was about the only part of the recipe I kinda sorta liked. <br /><br />What I DID really like was the couscous I made to go with this. I toasted a handful of cashews, pecans, and almonds in a frying pan, and prepared a batch of couscous with chicken stock, a dash of garlic powder, and butter. When the couscous was ready, I fluffed it, and tossed in the toasted nuts and a little bit of chopped dried apricot. Yum<br /><br />So, the first recipe I used preserved lemons in didn't go over so well. But, I wasn't about to give up so easily after waiting a month to make them. I already knew what I was going to attempt for my next recipe, and this time, NO ACCURSED BRINY GALLSTONES-OF-SATAN UNPITTED FREAKIN' OLIVES!Joe J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17884182499425185610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980516391747474314.post-75283298602409669912009-07-04T23:26:00.000-07:002009-07-04T23:34:34.388-07:00Preserved LemonsA few months ago, I was reading one of my Indian cookbooks for the umpteenth time, and came to a section that detailed the creation of pickled lemons. I'd also read about something similar in one of my Nigella Lawson cookbooks, although the recipe in that one was for "preserved", not "pickled". Most recipes and references to this ingredient call it "preserved", so that's what I'm going with, even though in both cases it's still technically a pickle. The idea of using these in cooking sounded interesting to me, so I decided to try and have a go at making and using my own batch of preserved lemons.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJlkL9CIBt6wT2dYvAJFj0BjpEQpbXcwN1dy8jdAFCgqQQg1KhfjqI4ngoK4sAx2MNIvAVGqpW-YQIxtea0lzChGsl0BTEqgUQPk-Id8pjjid7O2Z3UumgAo-lv23OlEbswI9kbiog1bCI/s1600-h/preserved_lemons.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJlkL9CIBt6wT2dYvAJFj0BjpEQpbXcwN1dy8jdAFCgqQQg1KhfjqI4ngoK4sAx2MNIvAVGqpW-YQIxtea0lzChGsl0BTEqgUQPk-Id8pjjid7O2Z3UumgAo-lv23OlEbswI9kbiog1bCI/s320/preserved_lemons.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354859544884050034" /></a>I wanted the unsweetened version, both as my own personal preference, and also because the recipe was a bit simpler: quartered lemons, kosher salt, and lemon juice. Combine and let sit for a month - piece of cake. I was tempted to use spices like cloves or bay leaves like my Indian cookbook did, but I didn't want to shoehorn myself into a particular flavor of preserve that might limit what I could use them for, so I kept it simple. The Nigella recipe used quite a bit of sugar and resulted in a much sweeter pickled lemon (of course), and also called for some boiling and just sounded a little fussier than I wanted to deal with.<br /><br />It just so happened that at the time my supermarket had Meyer lemons in stock (they usually don't), and on sale. I'd never made anything with Meyer lemons before, and I'd read they were sweeter and more aromatic than regular lemons. They're also rounder, more plump with pulp and juice than regular lemons, and a slightly orange tint to their rind that makes them particularly bright and hints at more intense flavor than their paler brothers. I bought about a dozen of them and brought them home. Half-dozen of them got quartered and I managed to fit them snugly into a bell jar. Over those, I dumped a large amount of Kosher salt. <br /><br />Then came the problem - the juice from the remaining six lemons wasn't nearly enough to fill the jar the rest of the way. I only got about a third of the way up the jar. So, I figured I needed another dozen Meyers, but unfortunately there were only about seven left at the store and three of them were ones I didn't pick for a reason - they were a bit soft and sickly-looking. But, I figured since I was only after their juice it didn't really matter what they looked like on the outside. I had to go with regular lemons for the rest of the juice I needed, but I did manage to fill the jar the rest of the way.<br /><br />Once the jar was filled, it was a simple matter just to keep it in my refergierator, and gently shake it every few days to keep the brine circulating, and do it for a month. Ok, so I had a generous amount of pickled lemons at my disposal - the question was what was I going to do with them? It seemed that Middle Eastern, particularly Moroccan was the way to go, since preserved lemons figure most prominently in that region's food. I did find a recipe that intrigued me, but that's a subject for my next post. Later!Joe J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17884182499425185610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980516391747474314.post-40631523397802016342009-01-06T22:02:00.000-08:002009-07-04T23:37:11.921-07:00Vodka-marinated SteakI found this recipe in Nigella Lawson's "Feast" - it was touted as being a Scandinavian-influenced recipe, and since I have a healthy dose of Scand in me and the recipe has just the right amount of quirk (beef and booze = cannot lose) in it, I had to give it a try. It's a really simple recipe with a few household cooking ingredients and quite a bit of vodka combined into a marinade that doubles as a gravy.<br /><br />The marinade itself was easy to make, but I think the next time I won't even bother with the gravy, because that was kind of a pain to make. Basically you mix a few crushed garlic cloves with thyme, and equal amounts of vodka and olive oil. The steak needs to marinate for a few hours, so I prepared it a day in advance.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX7DDYXdRBICMx7eLXrVXFINjIisaQR6lkXMLulePI8_L7gRNFU7ldvS_vQ6NyV7_m0vVkUXC6Ifg5gp7UVwjBbwSAY4nr8uggt9GqYUPFVnpjqID7qCPcCCTeOYxMHlCEXBN5YHNSJ3Ce/s1600-h/990103983_002.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX7DDYXdRBICMx7eLXrVXFINjIisaQR6lkXMLulePI8_L7gRNFU7ldvS_vQ6NyV7_m0vVkUXC6Ifg5gp7UVwjBbwSAY4nr8uggt9GqYUPFVnpjqID7qCPcCCTeOYxMHlCEXBN5YHNSJ3Ce/s200/990103983_002.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288430482089164386" /></a>This is one SHINY steak, isn't it? Smells really good with the garlic and oil, though.<br /><br />Cooking the steak itself didn't go so well. The problem was that the steak was so huge that it just barely fit into the pan I was frying it in. This might not sound like a big deal, but when the steak began to cook, all the accumulated juice and marinade seeped out of the steak, which under normal circumstances would have been fine. Problem was, since the steak already took up all the real estate in the pan, the juices accumulated on top of the steak, so instead of frying, it was submerged in liquid and I wound up with a braised steak instead of a fried one. It still tasted great, but instead of tasting like a fried steak, it tasted more like a big, flat pot roast.<br /><br />The gravy was delicious, if a bit salty. You could taste the faint bite of the vodka in it. To be honest, though, I preferred those boiled potatoes I made to go with it. Those were done just by scrubbing a few red potatoes (and I had a small yellow one I added as well), and boiling them in salted water until they were easily pierced with a fork. Then I drained the water out, leaving the potatoes in the pot, and threw in a big glob of butter and snipped some fresh dill in as well. When the butter was melted, I just popped the cover on the pot and gave it a good vigorous shake to coat the potatoes with the butter and dill. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9HhnG1OLCzQf66xxh5zMWLyl2XpbibsS5H77AyCqQMZjB-dKgDviIhyvYNja3euN8acMmb2jDFcfISqz_jo4AloJwSUJ79aaa_lSVmREhLr0ha7iFPvbJ7EaLl4e1yq7zndPqsZOgHwBH/s1600-h/990103983_001.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9HhnG1OLCzQf66xxh5zMWLyl2XpbibsS5H77AyCqQMZjB-dKgDviIhyvYNja3euN8acMmb2jDFcfISqz_jo4AloJwSUJ79aaa_lSVmREhLr0ha7iFPvbJ7EaLl4e1yq7zndPqsZOgHwBH/s320/990103983_001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288430734720490162" /></a><br />I think I'm going to try this one again with a thicker cut of steak and cook it the way I like it - more seared, with a crispy brown exterior and a juicy rare inside. For now, this recipe is on probation.Joe J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17884182499425185610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980516391747474314.post-2171581020759810222008-10-19T19:16:00.000-07:002008-10-19T19:47:32.147-07:00Cocoa Sauerkraut CookiesYeah, this is an actual for-real recipe. Ok, a little background on where I got this. My uncle has made it something of a tradition in the last few years to collect family recipes, newspaper clippings, little bits and pieces of family mementos and photocopy them and make cookbooks for my siblings and I as Christmas gifts. I found this recipe in the first cookbook he gave us (and as this blog grows, I'm almost certainly going to include a few other recipes from these cookbooks) - there's a few variations of this recipe online, but I stick with the original. This was one of the recipes that prompted me to start this little blog in the first place. I'm not sure exactly what prompted the creator of this recipe to use sauerkraut as a cookie ingredient. Maybe the rinsed sauerkraut was originally intended to be a cheaper substitute for shredded coconut. Or maybe some chef got a bit confused while crapulent on cooking sherry. I lean towards the former.<br /><br />What I didn't particularly like about the original recipe when I first read it was that outside the sauerkraut there wasn't a whole lot going on in these cookies, seeing as how cocoa was really the only other major flavor. I think just about every chocolate cookie recipe, particularly homemade ones, has to have chocolate chips in it - the only chocolate cookies I like that don't have them are the Girl Scout's Thin Mints and Oreos. The original recipe also called for shortening, and I thought I would try using unsalted butter. Shortening is much cheaper, but I thought using real butter would give them some extra richness and flavor. Also, with the idea that the sauerkraut was intended as a coconut substitute, I got the idea to add a little bit of coconut extract to the cookie recipe to see how many people I could fool. Anyway, with the coconut extract and chocolate chips being added, and the butter softened to room temperature, I was all set.<br /><br />Cocoa Sauerkraut Cookies<br />1 C. unsweetened cocoa powder<br />1 T. baking powder<br />1 1/2 tsp baking soda<br />3/4 tsp. salt<br />3 3/4 C. flour<br />1 1/2 C. shortening (or unsalted butter)<br />3 C. sugar<br />3 eggs<br />1 T. vanilla (or coconut extract)<br />1 lb. canned sauerkraut<br />2 C. (12-oz. bag) chocolate chips (optional)<br /><br />Mix the first five ingredients together in a large bowl and set aside. Cream together the shortening, eggs, sugar, and vanilla/coconut until smooth. Drain the sauerkraut, rinse it thoroughly, and chop it. Stir that into the creamed mixture, then add the dry ingredients and stir together until well-blended. If you are using the chocolate chips, add them now and stir just until they are incorporated. Drop by spoonfuls onto baking sheets and bake at 350 degrees for 12 to 15 minutes.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr0gAxzwMh-vb2YHU5x24LsYH-VZ3qCZl4VUmUKhpLZU5xFykWfTb7yJAxtTRGsxwOEplC8p6u-Xal6k37dVOBKLWDR8xGCLKAVedjh-OwaAHARyGjiN2UoAFgXj7Tgx_AkkloeJLxocYO/s1600-h/dry_stuff.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr0gAxzwMh-vb2YHU5x24LsYH-VZ3qCZl4VUmUKhpLZU5xFykWfTb7yJAxtTRGsxwOEplC8p6u-Xal6k37dVOBKLWDR8xGCLKAVedjh-OwaAHARyGjiN2UoAFgXj7Tgx_AkkloeJLxocYO/s320/dry_stuff.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259058386556632546" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Dry ingredients</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLu-aAE2synw5EL25YVaYq9uHK9l5nNVQj7xH3q-gVhH9bdIOcP5xDL8WTVkYVAgqSPUARMyugEPLSO3ElwH-wZbotallKnHxBmYQh8qd1CdA6X17R3P8Ul9wsgwBZVI5oRccMSnx1sZYS/s1600-h/rinsing_kraut.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLu-aAE2synw5EL25YVaYq9uHK9l5nNVQj7xH3q-gVhH9bdIOcP5xDL8WTVkYVAgqSPUARMyugEPLSO3ElwH-wZbotallKnHxBmYQh8qd1CdA6X17R3P8Ul9wsgwBZVI5oRccMSnx1sZYS/s320/rinsing_kraut.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259058650170781778" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Rinsing the sauerkraut for the 3rd time. </span><br /></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKg5TppOmhQallDc71u-hwaBmzg8bMSmPKHP_bsNxwjnynOh1DJhAOgkPogpM-R7P3PgTTiS2WCBiMVi7oLtTxJa8olRAjSHpTIolLRnGt8-uR-X5PuZwobQeUXxAjZcin5kRWxhw_Ycf5/s1600-h/dough.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKg5TppOmhQallDc71u-hwaBmzg8bMSmPKHP_bsNxwjnynOh1DJhAOgkPogpM-R7P3PgTTiS2WCBiMVi7oLtTxJa8olRAjSHpTIolLRnGt8-uR-X5PuZwobQeUXxAjZcin5kRWxhw_Ycf5/s320/dough.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259059360572839778" border="0" /></a>The result of mixing the sauerkraut and the dough. No matter how thoroughly I drain and blot the sauerkraut with paper towels beforehand, the dough always starts to get kind of alarmingly wet at this point, almost like cake batter instead of cookie dough.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5w0x7u3OQo6cnW2SmgPqlUQguF8-XMUAhCSpLnTKmM1FG-hKctlTpmlaRPVo3NGDlJ7n7QhkYQupUm-0lDaKK83m1SpxwmB7HKumf3zQ5xEeUYlDuiwPI6whmQpnzGbsFvHYdM74i2JH6/s1600-h/cookies.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5w0x7u3OQo6cnW2SmgPqlUQguF8-XMUAhCSpLnTKmM1FG-hKctlTpmlaRPVo3NGDlJ7n7QhkYQupUm-0lDaKK83m1SpxwmB7HKumf3zQ5xEeUYlDuiwPI6whmQpnzGbsFvHYdM74i2JH6/s320/cookies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259058927626529602" border="0" /></a>Whew. Two in the morning, and I wound up with roughly 4 1/2 dozen of these oddities (this was the first batch I pulled out). They look pretty normal, don't they? Of course, there's the real question - how do they taste?<br /><br />Not bad. What you wind up with is a cookie that is almost brownie-like in softness and moistness. There is a little hint of the sauerkraut texture in there, but if you didn't know it was sauerkraut, the coconut flavor would throw you - it certainly fooled everyone I gave these to. And actually, I'm thinking that the butter wasn't such a hot idea after all. When I made these cookies with shortening, the cookies held up to baking better and weren't quite as flat as these.Joe J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17884182499425185610noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980516391747474314.post-34873085708546255492008-10-06T21:46:00.000-07:002008-10-06T22:02:56.661-07:00An Improbable Pie-MutationI was looking through a Pillsbury Bake-Off cookbook of my mother's last Thanksgiving. This particular cookbook is 40 years old, and I frequently like reading recipes from the 1950s and 1960s because it's kind of neat in a funny way to read recipes that proudly trumpet the amazing dishes you can make for your family using things like Spam, Wonderbread, and Cheez-Its.<br /><br />Anyway, I was reading it and THIS leapt out at me:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6N73cfztTRmeMFfj_bsxuUWR_HHif7sTwndvZVWK0h9XQMx8ST13Rn4cuXu_-iWVNSXVrSVHMjqkyzjHeOB0YS2P6TNKaHqIaQu8Tcy4K2oNuc7_yUjj8Dc46Y42CMape-4xr_X2JjkuV/s1600-h/pie_scan.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6N73cfztTRmeMFfj_bsxuUWR_HHif7sTwndvZVWK0h9XQMx8ST13Rn4cuXu_-iWVNSXVrSVHMjqkyzjHeOB0YS2P6TNKaHqIaQu8Tcy4K2oNuc7_yUjj8Dc46Y42CMape-4xr_X2JjkuV/s400/pie_scan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254270625417613378" border="0" /></a><br />Wow - I don't even know what to say about this. It looks like a pie that mutated, and the list of ingredients indicates a truly bizarre mix of flavors - coconut, pecans, and lime. It's actually pretty simple to make - It's just pre-baking the crust, with a little toasting, a little whipping, a little spreading, and a little spooning.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOyLMoq0Y42P4hbPX_Z915v0-Izo5SseU6mVkWdwpVM-6mSU4ORgHJaRe9ftJtLhRcGLijnISFxY9-ncBPue-s0mAiOaCiaO8IOKqV8bsEvxmsphytjOk_EZfPlUf5ESRuxYNBmhvomSpE/s1600-h/IMG_0959.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOyLMoq0Y42P4hbPX_Z915v0-Izo5SseU6mVkWdwpVM-6mSU4ORgHJaRe9ftJtLhRcGLijnISFxY9-ncBPue-s0mAiOaCiaO8IOKqV8bsEvxmsphytjOk_EZfPlUf5ESRuxYNBmhvomSpE/s320/IMG_0959.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254271891993511330" border="0" /></a><br />And y'know what? This is actually pretty tasty. I would suggest letting the lime sherbet sit out of the freezer for a good 15 minutes or so to soften it, or spoon it out into a large bowl and stir it a bit until it's softer - if it's too hard, you're going to have a hell of a time spreading it without breaking the crust.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Macaroon Crunch Pie</span><br /><br />9-in. pie crust<br />1/2 c. shredded coconut<br />1 pint lime sherbet (1/2 a quart)<br />1 1/2 c. heavy whipping cream<br />1/3 c. powdered sugar<br />1 cup crushed macaroon cookies* (I bought a brand that was called (I think) Southern Kitchen)<br />1/2 c. chopped pecans<br /><br />Pre-bake a 9-in pie crust, either using a store-bought brand or your favorite homemade recipe. When the crust comes out of the oven, spread the coconut on a small baking sheet or a piece of heavy-duty foil and toast it for a few minutes. Let the crust and coconut cool COMPLETELY.<br /><br />Set aside 2 tablespoons of the coconut and spread the rest in the bottom of the crust. Spread the soft sherbet over it and pop it in the freezer while you get on with the rest of the recipe.<br /><br />Whip the heavy cream until it begins to thicken, add the sugar and beat until stiff peaks form. Set aside 1 cup of that for later. Fold the cookie crumbs and pecans into the rest of the whipped cream. Take the pie out of the freezer and spread the crumb-cream mixture until it completely covers the sherbert (it will help keep it frozen later). Take that reserved 1 cup of whipped cream and dab spoonfuls of it around the edge of the pie, then sprinkle the remaining 2 tablespoons of coconut in the center. Put it back in the freezer and let it sit overnight.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij1JEnOoArODTRawLrLIxQaad6mbuf4G6upU0yeoeg1cyijtUK9OtRrdQrCUgnfran2xMrEJxZUBvPhO_I1-6MX2CTmxkxy4fTnKEXjJNg3K7zZlD2YuvgFhX90FBd5v2XdjJRjatY6xG_/s1600-h/IMG_0958.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij1JEnOoArODTRawLrLIxQaad6mbuf4G6upU0yeoeg1cyijtUK9OtRrdQrCUgnfran2xMrEJxZUBvPhO_I1-6MX2CTmxkxy4fTnKEXjJNg3K7zZlD2YuvgFhX90FBd5v2XdjJRjatY6xG_/s200/IMG_0958.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254272094329218258" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxrqsBSkdHXo7fdtyIAyO_Krr6RQCZ0ubD9r0wA0X_ZtKqapz_ZQ_jEVhy6QWeLYDk7EftD9FAa4z8rxYH75UP6GGdFj3WaGZHTGCY6xOw9jVM_W7_ZriNs44wOp5tQZojRPYap_hNtNT7/s1600-h/IMG_0960.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxrqsBSkdHXo7fdtyIAyO_Krr6RQCZ0ubD9r0wA0X_ZtKqapz_ZQ_jEVhy6QWeLYDk7EftD9FAa4z8rxYH75UP6GGdFj3WaGZHTGCY6xOw9jVM_W7_ZriNs44wOp5tQZojRPYap_hNtNT7/s200/IMG_0960.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254272273853441490" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcEDfIS7J-EfDY3qhS3Pg5ZUHcwlZvwNJep4WwcbBLoJh3cdCSVyXWWk5byMcLLuI7J0SzBGElr1zvQSBmazOlmalLJ9kd2G1IcGJTNFncIEQv7EsZooKOSOQWcCJQfNLWaNLrxbGi0sZQ/s1600-h/IMG_0961.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcEDfIS7J-EfDY3qhS3Pg5ZUHcwlZvwNJep4WwcbBLoJh3cdCSVyXWWk5byMcLLuI7J0SzBGElr1zvQSBmazOlmalLJ9kd2G1IcGJTNFncIEQv7EsZooKOSOQWcCJQfNLWaNLrxbGi0sZQ/s200/IMG_0961.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254272433803520738" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />*Buy thin, crispy coconut cookies. DO NOT buy those delicious, soft, mounded macaroons that look like snowballs - they are FAR too soft to crumble well.Joe J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17884182499425185610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980516391747474314.post-52079688838260189952008-10-01T22:31:00.000-07:002008-10-06T22:03:20.253-07:00A Mockery of PieThe second of the three pie recipes I'm posting is Mock Apple Pie. I found it while I was rooting around on the Internet, trying to find the original Wonder Pie recipe I used in the previous blog entry.<br /><br />Mock Apple Pie, as the name suggests, doesn't have a speck of real apple in it. Instead, it uses crushed Ritz crackers and the juice and zest of a lemon to fool the eater into thinking this is an apple pie. It sounded revolting. Naturally, I couldn't resist trying it out.<br /><br />From the outside, it certainly LOOKS like a classic apple pie, but on the inside I thought it kind of looked like a pecan pie - i.e. a solid brown jelly-like center. Maybe I crushed the crackers a bit too much. That wasn't the only issue I had with this pie. I don't know, maybe it's because we have larger lemons down here in Florida, but everyone who tasted the pie assumed the flavoring was lemon, so I guess there was too much zest in it. Maybe if I make this again, I'll keep the lemon zest but swap out the lemon juice for apple juice or apple cider to mask the flavor a bit more.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Mock Apple Pie</span><br /><br />Ready-made crust for a 9-inch pie, top and bottom (I used Pillsbury for this one)<br />1 sleeve of Ritz Crackers, semi-crushed<br />1 3/4 cups water<br />2 cups sugar<br />2 teaspoons cream of tartar<br />2 tablespoons lemon juice<br />Grated peel of one lemon<br />2 tablespoons COLD margarine or butter<br />1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2pZpVbAIajjyyJFYuk2w_CTIjooFLes7IV9hmUkeOgINm0ZwT4nQwg1hIpnDJ653PkGdt5keWCtVZ8YbCI4Eb5X4MXSDoTTPrsHZZeeYZ2Ys6reuLP1u6COa1GlQNLeqlXCAgEwAX5EZx/s1600-h/IMG_0955.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2pZpVbAIajjyyJFYuk2w_CTIjooFLes7IV9hmUkeOgINm0ZwT4nQwg1hIpnDJ653PkGdt5keWCtVZ8YbCI4Eb5X4MXSDoTTPrsHZZeeYZ2Ys6reuLP1u6COa1GlQNLeqlXCAgEwAX5EZx/s200/IMG_0955.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253528020440839170" border="0" /></a>It's pretty simple to make. First, you preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Then you stir together the water, sugar, and cream of tartar and bring it to a boil for a good 15 minutes - it should be a nice syrup with a faint brown tint to it. Add the zest and juice and let it cool. Don't be alarmed if the lemon zest looks a little browned by the time the syrup cools down a bit - that happened to me and it didn't make any difference. Line a 9" pie plate with the bottom crust, dump in the Ritz crumbs, and carefully pour the syrup over them. Cut the cold butter into little bits and sprinkle them over the syrup-cracker mixture with the cinnamon (see the photo above, and y'know, now that I look at it again, I really didn't crumble the crackers that much). Cover with the upper crust, crimp the top and bottom crust together, slit the top crust a few times to let steam escape while it bakes, and pop it in the oven for 30 minutes or so.<br /><br />I don't usually use cinnamon in the recipes that call for it. Rather, I use <a href="http://www.penzeys.com/cgi-bin/penzeys/p-penzeysbaking.html?id=kgNVG7xK">this INCREDIBLY good spice mix</a> from Penzey's. It has anise in it and normally I despise anything that smells like, tastes like, or has had a passing acquaintance with black licorice (and I'm not that fond of cardamom, either), but I still love this stuff. It's especially good sprinkled over coffee, as well. Nice flavor and it smells wonderful, too.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYzRfZ_uDvQHIPM4qJwxwtZdMNoHQ64y8FGmvBCGt5ar8H_LEOuLlMgV4Dnus68T6vFzrctftTm8fNsWw5LM8Irhkf8KzbcIFugBDctHIoJzv7WeDpTrQWT4fzMzs8lCVwTEXnGmK79emr/s1600-h/IMG_0956.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYzRfZ_uDvQHIPM4qJwxwtZdMNoHQ64y8FGmvBCGt5ar8H_LEOuLlMgV4Dnus68T6vFzrctftTm8fNsWw5LM8Irhkf8KzbcIFugBDctHIoJzv7WeDpTrQWT4fzMzs8lCVwTEXnGmK79emr/s200/IMG_0956.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253528379192552450" border="0" /></a><br />Small confession - I forgot to put the cinnamon in with the butter, so when the pie came out of the oven (it looked pretty terrific, if I do say so myself) I mixed my baking spice with an equal bit of granulated sugar. I gave the still-hot pie a quick brush-over with milk and quickly sprinkled the sugar-and-spice mixture over the top. Maybe the spice flavor didn't permeate the pie like it would have, if I'd added it when I was supposed to, but it looked nice and it smelled divine.Joe J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17884182499425185610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980516391747474314.post-51680957481999853902008-09-24T19:54:00.000-07:002008-10-04T21:50:53.400-07:00Wonder Pie in the Sky<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkW7uIsE7j5fy_C-3AQRwtsmGRhKNzANxtGKUjwysJV7v6pJsJKf5m_5iT16ov-s8DxVw9iRCYZJ7uye_gHhGHLdaEsZeR__845S6Pyh0JnDo0d9W6ZBjBmg0UtCJMISgb3BGnjHXWJmSy/s1600-h/IMG_0953.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkW7uIsE7j5fy_C-3AQRwtsmGRhKNzANxtGKUjwysJV7v6pJsJKf5m_5iT16ov-s8DxVw9iRCYZJ7uye_gHhGHLdaEsZeR__845S6Pyh0JnDo0d9W6ZBjBmg0UtCJMISgb3BGnjHXWJmSy/s200/IMG_0953.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253527754091368050" border="0" /></a><br />Someone recently posted a request for the Wonder Pie I mentioned in an earlier post, and since I remember it being a snap to make and that I finally have some free time after two weeks, I decided to crank it out. Also, it ties in nicely with the premiere of "Pushing Daisies", with it's pie-shop-dwelling characters, so I'll post this recipe and one or two other pie recipes later on.<br /><br />So, when I sat down to make this, I realized I didn't have my mother's original recipe anywhere. I remember it being hand-written on an index card and stuffed in a small cardboard box with a jumble of recipes clipped from magazines and newspapers, and copies of stuff from my uncle and grandmother. I checked the Internet, and nothing I found recalled my mother's recipe. Some were close (and by close I mean they contained eggs, sugar, and coconut), but none were the original. So, I called my mom up.<br /><br />Me: "Do you remember a recipe for something called Wonder Pie?"<br />Mom: "No, I don't think so."<br />Me: "I made it for that food class I took in high school, remember?"<br />Mom: "Oh, that's right - Ms. Cavanaugh's class."<br />Me: "Yeah, it's got coconut in it - you had it written down and you kept it in a box with some other recipes."<br />Mom: "Yes - do you need it? Hold on a sec."<br /><i>*shuffling noises, followed by her scolding one of her dogs*</i><br />Mom: "Ok, got it - I have it as Impossible Pie, but I have 'aka Wonder Pie' on it. Here it is:"<br /><br /><b>Impossible Pie (aka Wonder Pie)</b><br /><li>4 eggs<br /></li><li>1/4 c Oleo<br /></li><li>1 c. sugar<br /></li><li>1/2 c. flour<br /></li><li>1/4 tsp. salt<br /></li><li>1/2 tsp. baking powder<br /></li><li>2 c. milk<br /></li><li>1 c. coconut<br /></li><li>1 tsp. vanilla<br /><br /></li><li>Blend ALL ingredients at once in a food processor. Pour into a buttered 10" pie shell and bake at 350 degrees for 1 hour.<br /><br />Me: "A 'buttered pie shell' - like a ready-made crust?"<br />Mom: "Maybe, why?"<br />Me: "I thought it made it's own crust - aka the WONDER part of Wonder Pie."<br />Mom: "Hmm - maybe I meant a buttered pie plate. Oh well. So, just don't use the crust - if it doesn't work you'll have coconut custard."<br />Me: "I don't need a dish of CUSTARD, I need a PIE."<br />Mom: "So, make it both ways. It sounds easy to make."<br />Me: "It's not made in the microwave?"<br />Mom: "The <i>microwave</i>? No, should it be?"<br />Me: "The recipes I found online that sounded close to this were made in the microwave."<br />Mom: "My dear, microwaves weren't invented when I wrote this recipe down."<br />Me: "Oh... really?"<br />Mom (annoyed): "YEAH, really."<br />Me: "Ok - just one more question."<br />Mom: "Yes?"<br />Me: "What is this 'Oleo'? Is it some kind of cookie, or something?"<br />Mom: "..."<br />Me: "What?"<br />Mom: "...you just love making me feel old, don't you?"<br /><i>*click*</i><br /><br />Love ya, Mom.<br /><br />Well, I didn't make it both ways - I went with my gut, which said my mom's recipe meant a buttered pie <i>plate</i>. It turned out really well, with a nice golden brown coconut topping and a nice custard filling in the center. I wound up using unsalted butter instead of Oleo and I had to go with skim milk since it was all I had on hand at the time. It jiggled rather alarmingly when I first checked it, until I remembered that it's mostly eggs and milk, and would probably set when it cooled. It did (WHEW), and it was delicious, particularly with a little pineapple ice cream topping spooned on it and some real whipped cream.<br /><br />My mom isn't the only one feeling old right now. Out of nowhere today, I had a sudden realization that Super Mario Bros., my favorite video game when I was a kid, is almost 25 years (a QUARTER of a CENTURY) old. Uch, I need to lie down.</li>Joe J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17884182499425185610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980516391747474314.post-78647295521225315132008-08-30T20:59:00.000-07:002008-08-30T21:01:25.688-07:00My New Family MemberSo, up until recently I had a pretty sorry collection of cutlery in my silverware drawer. I did get a decent paring knife and serrated knife from a friend of mine for Christmas, but other than that my kitchen knives were sorry little pieces of crap that I got for free with an order from Omaha Steaks. They're cheaply made, with hollow plastic handles, and they don't stand up well to abuse - I lost the tip of the chef's knife in a half-frozen wad of ground chuck I was trying to break up for a batch of chili. Stabbing frozen meat isn't good for cheap cutlery, apparently. And I'd also like to take this opportunity to apologize for whatever intestinal distress it caused to whomever it was at my church's chili cook-off who ate the bowl that had that tip in it (KIDDING).<br /><br />In any event, I decided to invest in a proper, quality cook's knife. A little research and I settled on Global as the one I wanted. It may or may not be as good as the Wusthof brand, but it's a little cheaper and I'm not a serious cook anyway. Plus, I like the way the handle looks.<br /><br />I love that knife. After a few years of using that cheap tip-free knife, I really didn't know what to expect. I was shocked at how smoothly and easily my Global went through a potato and I nearly wept with pride at the sight of a pile of potato slices so thin you could almost see through them. I enjoyed using my Global so much that I went ahead and sliced up half a dozen more potatoes and for dinner I ate nothing but roasted, sliced potatoes that were tossed with a little rosemary, garlic, and olive oil.<br /><br />Really, it's an incredible knife. It cuts through anything with ease - raw potatoes, cheap cuts of beef, thick slabs of cooked bacon, and fingernails. Yeah, fingernails. Instead of crumbling cooked bacon with my fingers like any smart person, I broke out the Global again to slice up a few rashers of bacon. Bad idea - long story short, the greasy bacon was slippery, I'm naturally clutzy, and I'm currently typing this with my left index finger swaddled in gauze and half of my fingernail down the garbage disposal. THAT hurt like you wouldn't believe, but at least my finger is intact - just bloody and SCREAMING IN PAIN.<br /><br />But I still love my new Global. I may name it. Hell, I may even baptize it.<br /><br />Joe J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17884182499425185610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980516391747474314.post-84183353635061623442008-07-03T21:44:00.000-07:002008-07-03T22:43:37.193-07:00Meat-cake, MEAT-CAKE, MEAT-CAAAAAAAAAAKE!!!I found out about this little food oddity in a sort of roundabout way. I was reading a recap off of <a href="http://www.twop.com/">Television Without Pity's</a> website for "Top Chef", and there was a little link to the <a href="http://www.blackwidowbakery.com/demo/meatcake/">Black Widow Bakery for something called "meat-cake"</a>. Basically, it's a ginormous meatloaf recipe split up and shaped into rounds like a layer cake, stacked and "frosted" with mashed potatoes.<br /><br />Intrigued? Hell, yes - but that was a LOT of meatloaf for just me to eat - I'd be picking at it for a week if I made it for myself! Still, I couldn't let go of the idea, and luckily an opportunity to make this fell into my lap just a few days later. My boss was celebrating his birthday, but this was during Lent, and he swears off sweets of all kinds during that time. Could there have been a more obvious sign that I was meant to make this cake? I think not (of course, if his birthday had fallen on a Friday, I'd have been in deep shit - for some reason I can't imagine making the cake layers out of fish or mac and cheese)!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhswdVau0q4ciXgjnYEB8jqACOSQZkfTMne9lRtD9SMJJoXkHfK6ENHTRJ1jF2tKfQSsXZYwkPqdNjuFD-Tr8ckhoG2k_AtN-pNGzGNJMMzgY9fjufuxYlrSj1gQl8-axA4GRmWz7RlJaXl/s1600-h/meatcake1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhswdVau0q4ciXgjnYEB8jqACOSQZkfTMne9lRtD9SMJJoXkHfK6ENHTRJ1jF2tKfQSsXZYwkPqdNjuFD-Tr8ckhoG2k_AtN-pNGzGNJMMzgY9fjufuxYlrSj1gQl8-axA4GRmWz7RlJaXl/s320/meatcake1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219026476133919042" border="0" /></a>Basically, I followed this recipe almost exactly as it appeared on Black Widow Bakery's site (I didn't do the glazing that the original author tried, as that clearly didn't work for her). However, I didn't feel like whipping out my pastry bag and piping potatoes around the side, and I'm a lousy artist - if I tried to emulate the steak drawing, I feared it would look more like a part of the female anatomy than anything else. No, instead I chose to decorate the cake with parsley springs, cherry tomatoes, and strips of precooked bacon.<br /><br />It really wasn't hard to make - actually, the worst part of it was "kneading" the six pounds of beef by hand. The beef was ice-cold, and since there was so much of it that needed to have the eggs, seasonings, and spices mixed in that my hand alternated between being numb and aching badly from the cold. But, once it was mixed, portioned, and popped into the oven, it was smooth sailing all the way. When it came out of the oven, I grabbed up my trusty serrated knife (Xmas gift from my old friend Banana), and trimmed off a bit of the top and sides to make all the layers uniform.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6lkF2UPO_It9OZsj9MB0MU-ICsY4fWd-yBupX9jVcM4JPVBjLR4jYrCkZhlGOnd91OjRbL0a3HhYGt1ulJQDRoB9uRz_FBBeapj0qeoe6s5_2DlQEPIglyJMiTIBZbCSVwDC7TO-1G-5r/s1600-h/meatcake2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6lkF2UPO_It9OZsj9MB0MU-ICsY4fWd-yBupX9jVcM4JPVBjLR4jYrCkZhlGOnd91OjRbL0a3HhYGt1ulJQDRoB9uRz_FBBeapj0qeoe6s5_2DlQEPIglyJMiTIBZbCSVwDC7TO-1G-5r/s320/meatcake2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219026598336669122" border="0" /></a>Verdict? Pretty damn tasty. Just the right amount of salt in it for me (although I like my meat to be on the salty side), although the "cake" portion was kind of dry for me. But, I suppose that's necessary - if I made it moister by using less bread crumbs, I'd run the risk of the cake being too juicy or too soft for me to stack it or even remove it from the pie pan without it falling apart. C'est la vie and all that jazz. Most of the people I work with who saw the cake cut themselves a slice, and they all seemed to like it. That actually brings to mind the one negative with this cake - it's quite heavy and quite hard to cut, so make sure your knife that you use to cut this is pretty damn sharp before you make this. There were leftovers, but the garlic and oregano in the cake really imparted a nice flavor to the meat overnight, so the leftovers were still pretty damn tasty for lunch the next day.<br /><br />Definitely something I'd make again for a special occasion. Next time, I think I might go for a more Italian-type flavor. I made a sort of stuffed meatloaf a while ago that was made with red wine added to the ground beef, and the meat surrounded a center of mozzarella cheese, mushrooms, and spinach, and I thought it was absolutely delicious. I'm thinking that instead of the ketchup-brown sugar filling, I could use spaghetti sauce and some chopped fresh tomatoes, or maybe stack some slices of mozzarella cheese and fresh spinach leaves between meat layers, and decorate the cake with cherry tomatoes, mushrooms, red onion slices... I'm not sure how I'm going to go about "frosting" the cake - maybe use garlic-flavored mashed potatoes and grate some fresh Parmesean and press it into the top and sides of the cake. Well, I guess that's an experiment for another day.Joe J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17884182499425185610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980516391747474314.post-23702199652345063592008-06-26T20:23:00.000-07:002008-08-30T20:19:46.341-07:00So, what's going in this?I love to cook. Even more so, I love to cook weird food. This blog is going to be a place where I cook up unusual recipes I find (or which readers send to me, HINT HINT), and do a wee bit of experimenting with food, and share the results. Since I can't put my whole story in my user profile, this is going to be my major inaugural post. So, here goes...<br /><br />My cooking hobby got off to a rather inauspicious start when I was about four years old. The first thing I ever remember attempting to make was peanut butter, which might sound a bit ambitious until I tell you that to my 4-year-old mind equated "peanut butter" as "butter with peanuts mixed into it". As in, mixed with my grubby little hands until the butter was half-melted and slightly gray from my perpetually-dirty hands, which I then proudly presented to my mother.<br /><br />Obviously, it became immediately clear to my mom that she had to protect her own health and squash whatever desire to cook that I had, at least for the time being. So, she hit on an ingenious little clause for me: anything I cooked, I had to clean the dishes afterward. And, I hated doing dishes, so I wound up cooking about once a year until I was in high school.<br /><br />In high school, I had some extra space on my schedule, and I made the mistake of assuming that the Foods I/II classes my school offered in the Home Ec lab would be easy "A"s. Of course, the teacher knew that was what we students were thinking and was dead-set on making sure that NOBODY was going to breeze through the class. One C-/D+ exam later, and I was looking down the barrel of a shitty grade. So I baked chocolate-chip-walnut cookies for extra credit. I got a glowing note from the teacher with the comment that this was the first time anyone had done anything like that for extra credit. Naturally, rather than study to an "A", I just covered my butt doing extra credit cooking. From the cookies, I moved on to things like Jell-O cake and some recipe from my mom's collection of clipped recipes called "Wonder Pie". With my "A" secured, I graduated and went on to college.<br /><br />Four years in college on a student's salary in a dorm with a communal kitchen area pretty much killed any drive I had to cook for a while, although the fact that I caused a fire alarm to go off and brought the fire department and police down on the place probably had a lot to do with it as well. The most daring thing I could bring myself to cook in college after that was the occasional saucepan of Zatarain's.<br /><br />Right out of college, I landed a decent-paying job at a dot-com company near Chicago, which lasted for all of nine months until the dot-com bubble burst (and also the owner of said company got indicted on a $17 million stock fraud scam). I got hired by a company in Florida, moved down there, and for the last seven and a half years I've been putting part of my salary towards unusual kitchen gadgets, and buying groceries to prepare unusual food - the more unusual the better.Joe J.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17884182499425185610noreply@blogger.com1