Culinary Concoctions by Peabody

When we would go back to visit my maternal grandparents it meant a few things. One, my diabetic grandmother would slip us money to go buy her doughnuts and we could “keep the change”(my cousin Chad and I were always to young and foolish not to know that you don’t go and buy a diabetic doughnuts). It meant picking raspberries while trying not to be stung by bees(Summer only). It meant breathing in the fumes of Vlassic pickles the couple nights I would stay at my cousins(the factory has since moved and sadly I miss that smell). It meant getting to swim in the mayor’s swimming pool(Summer only). And it meant the torture that was Sunday drives with my grandfather.
Oh how that man loved to get in a car and drive absolutely nowhere…for hours. Hours and hours. My uncle has this same trait but he is smart enough to sucker you in to a 5 hour trip to Duluth, Minnesota  by saying we were going for the “best pie you ever tasted” and I am stupid enough to be lured by it. But my grandfather you had no choice. He said get in the car. We got in the car. For hours. Did I mention the hours part? Nothing can be more fun for a 10 year old then sitting in the back seat of a Oldsmobile listening to big band music and not being allowed to bring anything to do. It “took away from the scenery”. Ugh. Those car rides would draw out my morbid imagination. For with nothing to do and not really being involved in the adult conversation about second cousins and what not that I knew nothing about, my mind would wander. It would wander into all the different ways we could crash the car. Now keep in mind it was not totally morbid, as I never did kill anyone in my day dreaming. If the car was engulfed in a fiery inferno, I made sure in my mind to get everyone out of the car. Sometimes it was just a simple crash into a tree. Other times we would go over an embankment by swerving to miss a cow in the road and would launch off a big ravine in the Duke’s of Hazard style.
Though I hated those car rides so, they were really only the memories I had of my grandfather. He was a very quiet man. One who showed little emotion. He was the kind of man who would hug you but they whole time he was doing the side hug you knew he was thinking, “she’s touching me”. My grandfather ran the pharmacy in the town where my mother grew up(my aunt still works in that pharmacy). The town didn’t even have a stop sign(when they eventually got the one yellow blinking light in the middle of town, that was big news). My mother’s high school graduating class had 8 people(mine had 532). He usually spoke about 2 words to me when they would come out to visit or we would go there. Those two words were “uh-huh”. I would ramble on and on about something, and no matter what, I got the uh-huh. Despite all of that, I always knew he loved me.
When I was still in high school, my grandfather, a man who smoked most of his life and then switched to chew, developed pancreatic cancer. Pancreatic is not a kind cancer. Now before you say what cancer is?..none. However, some are more kind in the fact that they give you time to fight it.  Pancreatic cancer tends to be quite aggressive and your prognosis is usually poor. This was the case of my grandfather. For just months after hearing his diagnosis, my grandfather was laid to rest.
What a horrible story you say. Yes and no. For of course, death is never a good thing, it did make me realize how very little I knew about him. Only years after he passed through stories told by my mom and uncle do I really know anything about him. Spend time with people now. Get to know people now. If you have a recipe that you always wanted to learn from your mother or grandmother go and have her teach it to you now. Appreciate the time you have with others even if it is just sitting in a car for hours at a time starring at miles and miles of farmland.

When I saw that Chris of Mele Cotte’s grandmother passed away from the same form of cancer my grandfather did, I knew I wanted to contribute something to the Cooking to Combat Cancer event. This Black Forest Chocolate Bundt Cake comes from Canadian Living and was chosen because my grandfather did love chocolate and I always used to see him eat cherries(I just remember the bowls of pits). I encourage you to participate in both this event as well as Barb’s A Taste of Yellow…there is still time to do both!

Black Forest Chocolate Bundt Cake

Serves 16
1 cup butter, softened
1-1/4 cups packed brown sugar
3 eggs
1-1/2 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 cup  cocoa powder
1-1/2 tsp  baking powder
3/4 tsp  baking soda
1/2 tsp  salt
1-1/4 cups  sour cream
1 cup chocolate chips
1 cup dried cherries
1 tbsp powdered sugar

Preparation:
Grease and flour 10-cup Bundt pan; set aside. I used 6 mini Bundts.
In large bowl, beat butter with brown sugar until fluffy. Beat in eggs, 1 at a time. Into separate bowl, sift together flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, baking soda and salt, and sift again. Stir into butter mixture alternately with sour cream, making 3 additions of flour mixture and 2 of sour cream. Stir in chocolate chips and cherries. Scrape into prepared pan.
Bake in center of 325°F  oven until cake tester inserted in center comes out clean, about 1 hour(about 30 minutes if you are making mini). Let cool in pan on rack for 10 minutes. With knife, loosen rim of cake. Place rack on pan. Wearing oven mitts, grasp pan and rack; turn over. Lift off pan. Let cool completely. (Make-ahead: Wrap in plastic wrap and store for up to 2 days or freeze in airtight container for up to 2 weeks.) Dust with powdered sugar.

Canadian Living Magazine: December 2004

The glaze is just some melted cherry jam that my mom made with a little sifted powdered sugar. I didn’t actually pay attention to the amount…sorry.

One of the greatest things I learned about my husband is that camping to him was in a 4 star hotel. Score.
Now don’t get me wrong, I like the outdoors, heck, I was Forestry major my freshman year of college. But sleeping on the rocky ground vs. a mattress is really a no brainer. Tying my food up so that a bear does not come into camp vs. brunch with a mimosa..again no brainer. Washing yourself in a river where an elk was peeing earlier vs. a hot shower. No brainer. And speaking of peeing, this is pretty much the main reason I do not camp. Call it the only time when I have penis envy. I was not made to go to the bathroom outside. And no, an outhouse the smells ungodly with a spider in the corner just waiting to pounce on me is not a suitable option.
Now, I know that many people camp and love it. I know many of those people have RV’s. I would rather just spend the money on the nice hotel and drive out to see the pretty scenery during the day.
I do miss one thing about camping though and that is S’mores. The treat that I learned to love in Girl Scouts. Lucky for me, my Girl Scout troops rarely camped. Believed to come from the Girl Scout handbook in 1927 as “Some Mores” the concoction asked for “16 graham crackers, 8 bars plain chocolate (any of the good plain brands broken in two), and 16 marshmallows”. By 1940 it had involved into “4 squares plain chocolate (thin), 2 graham crackers, and one marshmallow. This recipe may be varied by using slices of apple (cut cross-wise) in place of the graham crackers; by using pineapple slices or peanut butter in place of chocolate.”
I am personally a purist. I just want the gooey marshmallow, chocolate and graham cracker…and for some reason, the cheaper the better.
So when Judy of Judy’s Gross Eats chose marshmallows as this weeks Tuesday’s with Dorie treat, I figured I would just cut out the middle man and put the S’more into the marshmallow. I have made marshmallows quite a few times. I love to make them at Christmas time to go into hot chocolate.
I have been fortunate enough that the weather has been chilly and so I made hot chocolate to enjoy with my marshmallows. If you  have never had homemade kind they really are worth it….especially in hot chocolate.
My husband and I are going camping this weekend in Portland. Granted we are camping from a four star hotel…but I’m sure will be roughing it!

Marshmallows

Makes about 1 pound marshmallows

About 1 cup potato starch (found in the kosher foods section of supermarkets) or cornstarch

2 tablespoons light corn syrup

2 1/4-ounce packets unflavored gelatin

3 large egg whites, at room temperature

3/4 cup cold water

1 tablespoon pure vanilla extract

1 1/4 cups plus 1 tablespoon sugar

GETTING READY: Line a rimmed baking sheet — choose one with a rim that is 1 inch high — with parchment paper and dust the paper generously with potato starch or cornstarch. Have a candy thermometer at hand.

Put 1/3 cup of the water, 1 1/4 cups of the sugar and the corn syrup in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Bring the mixture to a boil, stirring until the sugar dissolves. Once the sugar is dissolved, continue to cook the syrup — without stirring — until it reaches 265 degrees F on the candy thermometer, about 10 minutes.

While the syrup is cooking, work on the gelatin and egg whites. In a microwave-safe bowl, sprinkle the gelatin over the remaining cold water (a scant 7 tablespoons) and let it sit for about 5 minutes, until it is spongy, then heat the gelatin in a microwave oven for 20 to 30 seconds to liquefy it. (Alternatively, you can dissolve the gelatin in a saucepan over low heat.)

Working in the clean, dry bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment or in another large bowl with a hand mixer, beat the egg whites on medium-high speed until firm but still glossy — don’t overbeat them and have them go dull.

As soon as the syrup reaches 265 degrees F, remove the pan from the heat and, with the mixer on medium speed, add the syrup, pouring it between the spinning beater(s) and the sides of the bowl. Add the gelatin and continue to beat for another 3 minutes, so that the syrup and the gelatin are fully incorporated. Beat in the vanilla.

Using a large rubber spatula, scrape the meringue mixture onto the baking sheet, laying it down close to a short end of the sheet. Then spread it into the corners and continue to spread it out, taking care to keep the height of the batter at 1 inch; you won’t fill the pan. Lift the excess parchment paper up to meet the edge of the batter, then rest something against the paper so that it stays in place (I use custard cups).

Dust the top of the marshmallows with potato starch or cornstarch and let the marshmallows set in a cool, dry place. They’ll need about 3 hours, but they can rest for 12 hours or more.

Once they are cool and set, cut the marshmallows with a pair of scissors or a long thin knife. Whatever you use, you’ll have to rinse and dry it frequently. Have a big bowl with the remaining potato starch or cornstarch at hand and cut the marshmallows as you’d like — into squares, rectangles or even strips (as they’re cut in France). As each piece is cut, drop it into the bowl. When you’ve got 4 or 5 marshmallows in the bowl, reach in with your fingers and turn the marshmallows to coat them with starch, then, one by one, toss the marshmallows from one hand to the other to shake off the excess starch; transfer them to a serving bowl. Cut and coat the rest of the batch.

SERVING: Put the marshmallows out and let everyone nibble as they wish. Sometimes I fill a tall glass vase with the marshmallows and put it in the center of the table — it never fails to make friends smile. You can also top hot chocolate or cold sundaes with the marshmallows.

STORING: Keep the marshmallows in a cool, dry place; don’t cover them closely. Stored in this way, they will keep for about 1 week — they might develop a little crust on the outside or they might get a little firmer on the inside, but they’ll still be very good.

Smores Marshmallows:

After you add in the vanilla, fold in 1/3 cup crushed graham cracker crumbs. Carefully fold in 3 ounces of melted milk chocolate. Becareful not to incorporate the chocolate into the marshamallow, you are going for more of a ribbon effect.

I am a bad Mexican food eater. It’s not solely my fault, as I am allergic to raw tomatoes, raw onion and all chili peppers. And since most Mexican food is made with those three ingredients my choices are more than limited. So growing up(and even really as an adult) if I got stuck going to Mexican food I ate a cheese crisp and either fried ice cream or flan. My gringo-ness stuck out even more as when they would bring chips to the table, I would ask for ketchup. Yep, you read that right….ketchup. Since I can not have salsa(a combo of all that I am allergic to) I eat my tortilla chips with ketchup. Now before you throw up just a little in your mouth, think about this: salsa…a tomato based condiment. Ketchup…a tomato based condiment. Same difference…give or take. And yes, I eat potato chips with ketchup also…I mean fried potatoes are fried potatoes…whether it be chips or fries.
I digress.
Back to the other things I will eat. Flan. Over the years I have eaten many a flan. Kissing cousin to the crème caramel, flan is an eggy custard that is bake with caramel sauce in the ramekin. Flip it over and you have a beautiful dessert.
I have had some bad flan in my life. I have had the kind that has far too many eggs and it tastes like you are eating a sweetened omelet. Or worse is the no-bake kind. Oh don’t get my started on that. So I am always nervous when trying out a new flan recipe. You just never know if it is going to be too eggy. But when Steph of Whisk and a Spoon chose Caramel Topped Flan, I knew Dorie would not let me down and she did not. Nice and creamy with only a hint of the egg coming through. I did make mine with a splash of orange instead of lemon and I added orange zest to my caramel. I just think the citrus adds something to the flan.
To see what other people did with the flan head on over to the Tuesdays with Dorie website.

Caramel Topped Flan

For the Caramel
1/3 cup sugar
3 tbsp water
squirt of fresh orange juice

For the Flan
1-1/2 cups heavy cream
1-1/4 cups whole milk
3 large eggs
2 large egg yolks
1/2 cup sugar
1 tsp pure vanilla extract

Getting Ready: Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.  Line a roasting pan or a 9-x-13-inch baking pan with a double thickness of paper towels.  Fill a teakettle with water and put it on to boil; when the water boils, turn off the heat.

Put a metal 8-x-2-inch round cake pan-not a nonstick one-in the oven to heat while you prepare the caramel.

To Make the Caramel: Stir the sugar, water and lemon juice together in a small heavy-bottomed saucepan.  Put the pan over medium-high heat and cook until the sugar becomes an amber-colored caramel, about 5 minutes-remove the pan from the heat at the first whiff of smoke.

Remove the cake pan from the oven and, working with oven mitts, pour the caramel into the pan and immediately tilt the pan to spread the caramel evenly over the bottom; set the pan aside. Sprinkle with orange zest if desired.

To Make the Flan: Bring the cream and milk just to a boil.

Meanwhile, in a 2-quart glass measuring cup or in a bowl, whisk together the eggs, yolks and sugar.  Whisk vigorously for a minute or two, and then stir in the vanilla.  Still whisking, drizzle in about one quarter of the hot liquid-this will temper, or warm, the eggs so they won’t curdle.  Whisking all the while, slowly pour in the remainder of the hot cream and milk.  Using a large spoon, skim off the bubbles and foam that you worked up.

Put the caramel-lined cake pan in the roasting pan.  Pour the custard into the cake pan and slide the setup into the oven.  Very carefully pour enough hot water from the kettle into the roasting pan to come halfway up the sides of the cake pan.  (Don’t worry if this sets the cake pan afloat.)  Bake the flan for about 35 minutes, or until the top puffs a bit and is golden here and there.  A knife inserted into the center of the flan should come out clean.

Remove the roasting pan from the oven, transfer the cake pan to a cooking rack and run a knife between the flan and the sides of the pan to loosen it.  Let the flan cool to room temperature on the rack, then loosely cover and refrigerate for at least 4 hours.

When ready to serve, once more, run a knife between the flan and the pan.  Choose a rimmed serving platter, place the platter over the cake pan, quickly flip the platter and pan over and remove the cake pan-the flan will shimmy out and the caramel sauce will coat the custard.

Yield: 6 to 8 Servings

Source: Adapted from(where else) Baking: Form My Home To Yours by Dorie Greenspan, Houghton Mifflin 2006

Baking with yeast. Check.
Setting food on fire. Check.
Tempering eggs. Check.
Yes, this weeks Tuesdays with Dorie recipe covered a lot of people’s cooking/baking fears…all in one stinking recipe. Who was this bitch that chose it?…oh yeah, that was me.
I wanted the TWD gals/guys to push past their comfort zone and possibly catch their kitchens on fire(none did that I know of). I wanted them to feel truly accomplished when they finished this one. And when they are done, they will have possibly added a few techniques that they had never done before.
This weeks recipe, Brioche Raisin Snails, could quite possibly give you a heart attack for breakfast…but oh, what a way to go. I had made Dorie’s brioche recipe a few times, so I knew it was a winner, but I had yet to make the raisin snails.
Knowing that my uber-picky husband would not be eating these because they had pastry cream, I made them in a flavor I wanted….tangerine/Grand Marnier. Instead of rum, I used the orange liquor and glazed my snails with a tangerine glaze. The results were super yummy. Don’t feel too bad for the husband though. Since this recipe uses only ½ the brioche recipe I made him Dorie’s sticky buns with the other half and he was more than a happy camper.
Setting the raisins on fire was by far the most feared part of this adventure but from what I read, most people conquered that fear head on and survived quite nicely. I have set many a food on fire(sometimes not on purpose ) so there was no fear here for me.
I hope that the TWD group enjoyed this recipe and are not to cranky at all that had to be done.

Brioche Raisin Snails

1 cup moist, plump raisins
3 tablespoons Grand Marnier Liquor
1 1/2 teaspoons sugar
Scant 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 recipe for Golden Brioche Loaves(page 48), chilled and ready to shape (make the full recipe and cut the dough in half after refrigerating overnight)
1/2 recipe Pastry Cream (page 448)

For the Tangerine Glaze
1 cup confectioners’ sugar, sifted
2 tsp tangerine juice
zest of ½ tangerine

Getting Ready: Grease and flour a regular sized muffin pan.
 
Put the raisins in a small saucepan, cover them with hot water and let them steep for about 4 minutes, until they are plumped. Drain the raisins, return them to the saucepan and, stirring constantly, warm them over low heat. When the raisins are very hot, pull the pan from the heat and pour over the Grand Marnier. Standing back, ignite the liquor. Stir until the flames go out, then cover and set aside. (The raisins and liquor an be kept in a covered jar for up to 1 day.)
Mix the sugar and cinnamon together.
On a flour dusted surface, roll the dough into a rectangle about 12 inches wide and 16 inches long, with a short end toward you. Spread the pastry cream across the dough, leaving 1-inch strip bare on the side farthest from you. Scatter the raisins over the pastry cream and sprinkle the raisins and cream with the cinnamon sugar. Starting wit the side nearest you, roll the dough into a cylinder, keeping the roll as tight as you can. (At this point, you can wrap the dough airtight and freeze it up to 2 months; see Storing for further instructions. Or, if you do not want to make the full recipe, use as much of the dough as you’d like and freeze the remainder.)
With a chef’s knife(I use a bread knife), using a gentle sawing motion, trim just a tiny bit from the ends if they’re ragged or not well filled, then cut the log into rounds a scant 1 inch thick. Put the snails inside the individual muffin holes.
Lightly cover the snails with wax paper and set the baking sheet(s) in a warm place until the snails have doubles in volume–they’ll be puffy and soft–about 1 hour and 30 minutes.

Getting Ready To Bake: When the snails have almost fully risen, preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.
Remove the wax paper, and bake the snails for about 25 minutes, or until they are puffed and richly browned. Let cool for 5 minutes then remove from muffin pan.

If You Want To Glaze The Snails: Put a piece of wax paper under the rack of warm rolls to act as a drip catcher. Put the confectioners’ sugar into a small bowl, and stir in a teaspoons of juice. Keep adding juice drop by drop until you have an icing that falls from the tip of a spoon. Add the tangerine zest, then drizzle the icing over the hot snails.

Golden Brioche Loaves

2 packets active dry yeast
1/3 cup just-warm-to-the-touch water
1/3 cup just-warm-to-the-touch whole milk
3 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons salt
3 large eggs, at room temperature
1/4 cup sugar
3 sticks (12 ounces) unsalted butter, at room temperature but still slightly firm

For The Glaze
1 large egg
1 tablespoon water

To Make The Brioche: Put the yeast, water and milk in the bowl of a stand mixer and, using a wooden spoon, stir until the yeast is dissolved. Add the flour and salt, and fit into the mixer with the dough hook, if you have one. Toss a kitchen towel over the mixer, covering the bowl as completely as you can– this will help keep you, the counter and your kitchen floor from being showered in flour. Turn the mixer on and off a few short pulses, just to dampen the flour (yes, you can peek to see how you’re doing), then remove the towel, increase the mixer speed to medium-low and mix for a minute or two, just until the flour is moistened. At this point, you’ll have a fairly dry, shaggy mess.
Scrape the sides and bottom of the bowl with a rubber spatula, set the mixer to low and add the eggs, followed by the sugar. Increase the mixer speed to medium and beat for about 3 minutes, until the dough forms a ball. Reduce the speed to low and add the butter in 2-tablespoon-size chunks, beating until each piece is almost incorporated before adding the next. You’ll have a dough that is very soft, almost like batter. Increase the speed to medium-high and continue to beat until the dough pulls away from the sides of the bowl, about 10 minutes.
Transfer the dough to a clean bowl (or wash out the mixer bowl and use it), cover with plastic wrap and leave at room temperature until nearly doubled in size, 40 to 60 minutes, depending upon the warmth of your room.
Deflate the dough by lifting it up around the edges and letting it fall with a slap to the bowl. Cover the bowl with the plastic wrap and put it in the refrigerator. Slap the dough down in the bowl every 30 minutes until it stops rising, about 2 hours, then leave the uncovered dough in the refrigerator to chill overnight.
The next day, butter and flour two 8 1/2-x-4 1/2-inch pans.
Pull the dough from the fridge and divide it into 2 equal pieces. Cut each piece of the dough into 4 equal pieces and roll each piece into a log about 3 1/2 inches long. Arrange 4 logs crosswise in the bottom of each pan. Put the pans on a baking sheet lined with parchment or a silicone mat, cover the pans lightly with wax paper and leave the loaves at room temperature until the dough almost fills the pans, 1 to 2 hours.  (Again, rising time with depend on how warm the room is.)

Getting Ready To Bake: Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.

To Make the Glaze: Beat the egg with the water. Using a pastry brush, gently brush the tops of the loaves with the glaze.
 Bake the loaves until they are well risen and deeply golden, 30 to 35 minutes. Transfer the pans to racks to cool for 15 minutes, then run a knife around the sides of the pans and turn the loaves out onto the racks. Invert again and cool for at least 1 hour.
Pastry Cream

2 cups whole milk
6 large egg yolks
1/2 cups sugar
1/3 cup cornstarch, sifted
2 teaspoons Grand Marnier Liquor
3 1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into bits at room temperature

Bring the milk to a boil in a small saucepan.
Meanwhile, in a medium heavy-bottomed saucepan, whisk the egg yolks together with the sugar and cornstarch until thick and well blended. Still whisking, drizzle in about 1/4 cup of the hot milk– this will temper, or warm, the yolks so they won’t curdle. Whisking all the while, slowly pour in the remainder of the milk. Put the pan over medium heat and, whisking vigorously, constantly and thoroughly (making sure to get the edges of the pot), bring the mixture to a boil. Keep at a boil, still whisking, for 1 to 2 minutes, then remove the pan from the heat.
Whisk in the Grand Marnier. Let sit for 5 minutes, then whisk in the bits of butter, stirring until they are full incorporated and the pastry cream is smooth and silky. Scrape the cream into a bowl. You can press a piece of plastic wrap against the surface of the cream to create an airtight seal and refrigerate the pastry cream until cold or, if you want to cool it quickly–as I always do–put the bowl into a larger bowl filled with ice cubes and cold water, and stir the pastry cream occasionally until it is thoroughly chilled, about 20 minutes.