I told my dear boyfriend that he should not get me anything for Valentine's Day this year. But for those of you who know Mike, you can guess what happened. On Thursday I found out that he bought me a "little something".
Since I hadn't planned on buying anything, I sort of blanked on gift ideas and decided that I would make a treasure hunt to lead to a big pile of Twinkies with pink filling--"pinkies" if you will. So I bought a chocolate cake mix and some raspberries and set to work.
The chocolate cakes ended up a little soft, but the real disaster was the filling. I'd softened some butter and started to whip it, but when I went to add the powdered sugar--something I've had bags and bags of for months--I realized I was completely out. It was too late to go to the store, so I decided I'd blend up some granulated sugar. It came out looking like powdered sugar, but the resulting frosting was a little gritty. And when I added the raspberries, the sugar melted and left the frosting feeling sort of greasy. But I pumped it into the "pinkies" and, while not ideal, the resulting cakes were tasty and, when he found the plate full at the end of his hunt, Mike seemed to appreciate them.
But after I was finished filling the cakes, I had a good cup of the stuff left over. What do you do with a cup of frosting that is only okay?
I thought about this for a couple of days. The idea of tossing it was disappointing, it was such a lovely color and it had fancy organic raspberries in it. I couldn't bring myself to frost a cake with it because that seemed like a bit of a waste of cake. But what is frosting? Butter and sugar. That sounds like the start of all sorts of things. I added some flour and an egg and made it into these delicious, chewy, lavender colored cookies that both of us loved.
And the "little something" Mike got me, turned out to be some awesome Psych bobble heads of Shawn and Gus. Sweet!
Raspberry Frosting Cookies
1 cup raspberry frosting (recipe follows)
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Bring frosting to room temperature and stir in the egg and vanilla. Stir in the flour, baking soda and salt. Place rounded tablespoons on a greased cookie sheet and bake for about 20 minutes. Cool on wire rack and enjoy.
Raspberry Frosting
*I'm not entirely sure this frosting would have turned out if I used powdered sugar, the raspberry may have made the frosting weird either way. So consider yourself warned.
1/2 cup softened butter
1 1/2 cups powdered sugar
1/4 cup frozen raspberries, thawed and mashed
Whip the butter (just stir it quickly with a spoon, this is such a small amount it doesn't seem worth pulling out the mixer). Continue stirring and slowly add the sugar and then add the raspberries
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Two days and a whole lot of tears
Let me start by saying that Alton Brown (and his show, Good Eats) has a lot of things going for him. He makes cooking interesting to a whole new audience. He makes it wonderfully geeky by explaining the science, he adds fun trivia, and me makes everything so exact and analytical that there's little room for error.
But I guess its that last bit that grates on my nerves a little. I hate the idea that there is only one way to do something, one way things are supposed to taste and one right way. What if I like my beans squishy and my pasta past al dente? What if I don't have the "right" kind of blender or I don't have three hours to drain my tofu? What if I forgot to buy one of the twelve vitally important herbs that were supposed to go in that bouquet garni...or forgot the bouquet garni all together? I want cooking to be more personalized, more spur of the moment and less rigid.
My other problem with Alton Brown is that he is some sort of black magic juju wizard. He somehow manages to make onions caramelize in 45 minutes when in my reality they take hours, his sauce ends up clear when mine ends of weirdly black (yes, I followed directions) and how on earth did he know that cake crumbs at the bottom of a pear gallette was amazingly delicious?
Maybe I'm just bitter because I tried to make French Onion Soup from the Good Eats cookbook and it did not turn out as planned. I got home at six and immediately set to work chopping the three pounds of onions (the original recipe called for FIVE!) which took me at least an hour because I had to keep stopping to wash my eyes out so I could see what I was chopping. Then I began the three and a half hour process of caramelizing the onions! The recipe said it would take 45 minutes on an electric skillet, but I never imagined it would take THAT much longer. When it finally came time to add the wine, broth and bouquet garni, I realized that I missed that bouquet garni bit in the recipe, but it was too late now so I added a little balsamic vinegar and let things simmer until bedtime.
Cut to the next day, I went to work reeking of onions and the smell was like a punch in the face upon returning home. By the time the onion soup went it the oven I was already over this whole adventure, but when I finally pulled the cheese covered, bubbling soup out of the oven it was hard to stay annoyed. It was delicious, and the leftovers we froze were even better.
It might be a long time before I make it again, but it was totally worth it.
Totally Worth It French Onion Soup
(adapted from French Onion Soup from Good Eats: The Early Years)
3 lbs yellow onions (larger onions are easier to work with, sugarier will caramelize better)
3 T. butter
2 t. salt
2 t. brown sugar
1 c. white wine
4 c. vegetable broth
1-2 T. balsamic vinegar
1/2 loaf french bread
1 c. shredded swiss cheese (and maybe a little smoked gouda if you've got it)
Store the onions in the fridge until you're ready to start the cutting and only remove a few at a time. Cut the onions in half lengthwise and place cut side down on the cutting board. Peel on half and slice down the length of the onion in a radius (if that doesn't make sense, I'd look at Alton's pictures for direction). Once finished with the batch, place in the fridge or freezer and do what you have to do to be able to see again. Repeat with the remaining onions.
Melt the butter in a big soup pot over medium heat, add all those onions, the salt and the sugar and stir. Adjust the heat so that you can't hear the onions sizzle and then leave it, stirring occasionally, until the onions are a super tender and deep brown. This took me three and a half hours, so be patient and don't wait on your dinner.
Add the wine and scrub all the caramelized bits off the bottom of the pan (deglaze if you wanna be all fancy about it). Turn up the heat to high and cook until the wine is thickened, then add the broth and the vinegar and simmer for a half hour (don't forget to turn the heat back down).
When you're ready to finish the soup, turn the oven on to 375 degrees. Cut the bread into 1 inch cubes and toast on a cookie sheet for 5-10 minutes. Pour the soup into oven safe single serving containers (I stored the soup in some lidded correll casserole dishes which easily went from the fridge/freezer to the oven). If the soup is frozen or refrigerated, heat in the oven until the soup is bubbling, then add the bread cubes and the cheese and bake until everything is melty, bubbly and delicious looking. If the soup has been cooking, you can put the bread and cheese on at the start.
But I guess its that last bit that grates on my nerves a little. I hate the idea that there is only one way to do something, one way things are supposed to taste and one right way. What if I like my beans squishy and my pasta past al dente? What if I don't have the "right" kind of blender or I don't have three hours to drain my tofu? What if I forgot to buy one of the twelve vitally important herbs that were supposed to go in that bouquet garni...or forgot the bouquet garni all together? I want cooking to be more personalized, more spur of the moment and less rigid.
My other problem with Alton Brown is that he is some sort of black magic juju wizard. He somehow manages to make onions caramelize in 45 minutes when in my reality they take hours, his sauce ends up clear when mine ends of weirdly black (yes, I followed directions) and how on earth did he know that cake crumbs at the bottom of a pear gallette was amazingly delicious?
Maybe I'm just bitter because I tried to make French Onion Soup from the Good Eats cookbook and it did not turn out as planned. I got home at six and immediately set to work chopping the three pounds of onions (the original recipe called for FIVE!) which took me at least an hour because I had to keep stopping to wash my eyes out so I could see what I was chopping. Then I began the three and a half hour process of caramelizing the onions! The recipe said it would take 45 minutes on an electric skillet, but I never imagined it would take THAT much longer. When it finally came time to add the wine, broth and bouquet garni, I realized that I missed that bouquet garni bit in the recipe, but it was too late now so I added a little balsamic vinegar and let things simmer until bedtime.
Cut to the next day, I went to work reeking of onions and the smell was like a punch in the face upon returning home. By the time the onion soup went it the oven I was already over this whole adventure, but when I finally pulled the cheese covered, bubbling soup out of the oven it was hard to stay annoyed. It was delicious, and the leftovers we froze were even better.
It might be a long time before I make it again, but it was totally worth it.
Totally Worth It French Onion Soup
(adapted from French Onion Soup from Good Eats: The Early Years)
3 lbs yellow onions (larger onions are easier to work with, sugarier will caramelize better)
3 T. butter
2 t. salt
2 t. brown sugar
1 c. white wine
4 c. vegetable broth
1-2 T. balsamic vinegar
1/2 loaf french bread
1 c. shredded swiss cheese (and maybe a little smoked gouda if you've got it)
Store the onions in the fridge until you're ready to start the cutting and only remove a few at a time. Cut the onions in half lengthwise and place cut side down on the cutting board. Peel on half and slice down the length of the onion in a radius (if that doesn't make sense, I'd look at Alton's pictures for direction). Once finished with the batch, place in the fridge or freezer and do what you have to do to be able to see again. Repeat with the remaining onions.
Melt the butter in a big soup pot over medium heat, add all those onions, the salt and the sugar and stir. Adjust the heat so that you can't hear the onions sizzle and then leave it, stirring occasionally, until the onions are a super tender and deep brown. This took me three and a half hours, so be patient and don't wait on your dinner.
Add the wine and scrub all the caramelized bits off the bottom of the pan (deglaze if you wanna be all fancy about it). Turn up the heat to high and cook until the wine is thickened, then add the broth and the vinegar and simmer for a half hour (don't forget to turn the heat back down).
When you're ready to finish the soup, turn the oven on to 375 degrees. Cut the bread into 1 inch cubes and toast on a cookie sheet for 5-10 minutes. Pour the soup into oven safe single serving containers (I stored the soup in some lidded correll casserole dishes which easily went from the fridge/freezer to the oven). If the soup is frozen or refrigerated, heat in the oven until the soup is bubbling, then add the bread cubes and the cheese and bake until everything is melty, bubbly and delicious looking. If the soup has been cooking, you can put the bread and cheese on at the start.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Taking a joke waaay too far
While my sister was in Hawaii last week she posted a status report complaining about the Mai Tais in Maui. She said that serving her a crappy drink and calling it a Maui Mai Tai was equivalent to her taking a block of tofu, wrapping it in kale and calling it Seattle Pork Lau Lau.
So I joked with her that she must make me some Seattle Pork Lau Lau the second she comes back home.
Cut to last night when she invites me over ands jokes that I should bring some Seattle Pork Lau Lau.
Well I just couldn't resist a challenge like that, so I went straight to the store for supplies.
But when I got to the store I found myself wandering the aisles puzzling over what one would put into Seattle Pork Lau Lau. Tofu and kale were requirements, but what comes after that? Do I take the flavors in a Northwest direction or do I give it some Hawaiian flair? Hawaiian seemed like more fun so I settled on that.
Until I realized that I have no idea what makes something taste Hawaiian, short of pineapple. So I grabbed a can of pineapple and thought about what would taste good with that. Teryaki sauce came to mind, so I wandered that direction and found something called Huli Huli sauce, which is "authentically Hawaiian". Perfect! Everything was falling into place.
I drained the tofu and marinated it. But when I looked at the chard I bought (the kale looked like it would be difficult to wrap with so I decided 'authentic' Seattle Pork Lau Lau uses chard) the leaves were small or full of holes and extremely brittle. So I cooked them until they were soft but that didn't help the small leaves and giant holes. So I took several leaves and leaf pieces and pieced them together (squishing them together to make one sheet).
I'm not saying this is remotely similar to traditional pork lau lau, but the thing that started as a joke turned out to be quite tasty.
Seattle Pork Lau Lau
1 block of firm tofu
1/3 cup Huli Huli sauce
1/4 cup soy sauce
the juice of one lime
a bunch of rainbow chard (I'm going to guess it was 1 pound)
2 green onions, sliced (everything except the root end and any green that looks like its seen better days)
pineapple juice and extra huli huli sauce
Slice the tofu into about 1/2 slices and drain (I do this with paper or dish towels and a lot of weight, but it makes it a little ugly and smooshed. You can do it with less weight, but it takes longer to get good and dry). Once drained dice into 1/2 inch cubes.
Mix together the Huli Huli sauce, soy sauce and lime juice and pour over the tofu cubes.
Meanwhile, cut the heavy stems out of the leaves and give them a really good washing. Then place the leaves in a large pan of water, add some salt and set it over medium heat until the leaves are soft.
While the leaves are cooking, heat some oil in a pan and add the tofu. Cook until the tofu has browned, stirring occasionally. Add the green onions and cook a minute or two longer, then pull from the heat.
Cool the leaves and pat them dry.
Piece together enough leaves to make a leaf sheet about 10 inches long and six inches wide (mine were ovals, so six inches was the fattest point).
Place about 1/3 cup of the filling in the center of the leaf and roll it up like a burrito, and place in a baking dish.
Pour a little pineapple juice and some Huli Huli sauce over the rolls and bake, covered for 15-20 minutes at 350 degrees (or just use the microwave like I did).
You'll end up with some leftover tofu from this, I think it would be excellent stuffed inside a bit of Hawaiian bread.
So I joked with her that she must make me some Seattle Pork Lau Lau the second she comes back home.
Cut to last night when she invites me over ands jokes that I should bring some Seattle Pork Lau Lau.
Well I just couldn't resist a challenge like that, so I went straight to the store for supplies.
But when I got to the store I found myself wandering the aisles puzzling over what one would put into Seattle Pork Lau Lau. Tofu and kale were requirements, but what comes after that? Do I take the flavors in a Northwest direction or do I give it some Hawaiian flair? Hawaiian seemed like more fun so I settled on that.
Until I realized that I have no idea what makes something taste Hawaiian, short of pineapple. So I grabbed a can of pineapple and thought about what would taste good with that. Teryaki sauce came to mind, so I wandered that direction and found something called Huli Huli sauce, which is "authentically Hawaiian". Perfect! Everything was falling into place.
I drained the tofu and marinated it. But when I looked at the chard I bought (the kale looked like it would be difficult to wrap with so I decided 'authentic' Seattle Pork Lau Lau uses chard) the leaves were small or full of holes and extremely brittle. So I cooked them until they were soft but that didn't help the small leaves and giant holes. So I took several leaves and leaf pieces and pieced them together (squishing them together to make one sheet).
I'm not saying this is remotely similar to traditional pork lau lau, but the thing that started as a joke turned out to be quite tasty.
Seattle Pork Lau Lau
1 block of firm tofu
1/3 cup Huli Huli sauce
1/4 cup soy sauce
the juice of one lime
a bunch of rainbow chard (I'm going to guess it was 1 pound)
2 green onions, sliced (everything except the root end and any green that looks like its seen better days)
pineapple juice and extra huli huli sauce
Slice the tofu into about 1/2 slices and drain (I do this with paper or dish towels and a lot of weight, but it makes it a little ugly and smooshed. You can do it with less weight, but it takes longer to get good and dry). Once drained dice into 1/2 inch cubes.
Mix together the Huli Huli sauce, soy sauce and lime juice and pour over the tofu cubes.
Meanwhile, cut the heavy stems out of the leaves and give them a really good washing. Then place the leaves in a large pan of water, add some salt and set it over medium heat until the leaves are soft.
While the leaves are cooking, heat some oil in a pan and add the tofu. Cook until the tofu has browned, stirring occasionally. Add the green onions and cook a minute or two longer, then pull from the heat.
Cool the leaves and pat them dry.
Piece together enough leaves to make a leaf sheet about 10 inches long and six inches wide (mine were ovals, so six inches was the fattest point).
Place about 1/3 cup of the filling in the center of the leaf and roll it up like a burrito, and place in a baking dish.
Pour a little pineapple juice and some Huli Huli sauce over the rolls and bake, covered for 15-20 minutes at 350 degrees (or just use the microwave like I did).
You'll end up with some leftover tofu from this, I think it would be excellent stuffed inside a bit of Hawaiian bread.
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