I am devoting my Saturday and Sunday to the beach. The weather looks to be gorgeous and I know there will be precious few more days to bronze myself for the pale months to come. However, in order to avoid the crushing traffic I anticipate on Monday, I will stay closer to home, and closer to my kitchen (though my mother and I were promised a personal shopping experience at the greenmarket were we to show up on Monday).
I'm definitely going to make my belated attempt at daring bakitude, I need to jam my sugarplums, and I a friend's birthday is on Tuesday, so I think I'll be whipping something up (and just now as I wrote that the final idea presented itself - yippee!). But there are some things from this week's tagging that might also find their way into the agenda (I'm looking at you plum crumble).
Caramelized Tomatoes on Gnocchi - this looks like a great dinner I could even whip up on Sunday night or something. It will necessitate another trip to the market this afternoon to supplement my tomato stocks, but I like a good gnocchi as much as the next girl.
Grilled Merguez with Prune Chutney - I do have a lot of plums hanging around - I just wish the chutney would last longer. Do you think it would freeze? The merguez is a little more difficult to source as I've only ever found it at the market on Saturday, and I hate going to the market on Saturdays (especially when it interferes with waning beach time), so maybe I'll make the chutney, experiment with freezing it, and pick a rainy Saturday to find the sausage.
Plum Crumble - The man of the house is a big defender of crumble. It is the primary bargaining tool I have when looking up at him with my puppy dog eyes and suggesting a full day of apple picking. He's not the biggest of plum fans, but perhaps the crumble will sway him.
Apricot Chestnut Tart Tatin - I have halved and frozen the last of the Red Jacket apricots. I don't see how this recipe would suffer by using the frozen fruit and I'm always looking for something to do with my chestnut flour (when I'm not being overly ambitious and making chestnut fettuccine or something like that). If I do decide to use the frozen apricots, I can hold off on this recipe for a bit.
Strawberry Dessert Quartet - No recipes here, but it's gorgeous. I don't have a lot of interest in eating dinner at Jean Georges (I've heard from trusted sources that it could be better), but now I want to go for dessert and have this (it will somehow make all the times his people have beaten me to the market for strawberries seem, if not ok, then barely tolerable).
Friday, August 31, 2007
Can This - Part 2 (photos to come)
Phillips Farm has been offloading their raspberries recently for truly remarkable prices (5 1/2 pints for 10 dollars?!?), and I knew something had to be done with this bounty. Raspberries are reliable freezers and both of my freezers at home now have containers full of them (for those lonely January nights when even the apples are now mealy), but 5 of the half-pints recently acquired have done their duty and become jam. Specifically, seeded red raspberry jam infused with fresh rosemary.
After pulping the raspberries slightly I heated them to just below boiling at which point I dropped about three stems of tied up rosemary, covered the pot and let the steeping commence. In retrospect I should have steeped longer, but I'm impatient like that. The final product has more of a hint of rosemary as opposed to an undercurrent.
I've never made jams before, so I'm still working out the right amount of pectin. My batch of strawberry had the right consistency, but I used granulated sugar which clumped in places. For the raspberry I used too much pectin, causing the jam to be a little more like Jello, than jam, but superfine sugar, so no clumps.
I also olive oil packed my delicious maroon peppers, duly roasted. If I can keep a certain someone's hands from these savory creations, our winter might not be so potato and turnip heavy!
After pulping the raspberries slightly I heated them to just below boiling at which point I dropped about three stems of tied up rosemary, covered the pot and let the steeping commence. In retrospect I should have steeped longer, but I'm impatient like that. The final product has more of a hint of rosemary as opposed to an undercurrent.
I've never made jams before, so I'm still working out the right amount of pectin. My batch of strawberry had the right consistency, but I used granulated sugar which clumped in places. For the raspberry I used too much pectin, causing the jam to be a little more like Jello, than jam, but superfine sugar, so no clumps.
I also olive oil packed my delicious maroon peppers, duly roasted. If I can keep a certain someone's hands from these savory creations, our winter might not be so potato and turnip heavy!
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Sweet Sweet Corn
It took me until the last possible day, and now I'm hoping they continue it into September, but the sweet corn custard from the Shake Shack was everything I wanted it to be.
When I ordered for two, one for me and one for a friend, the Shake Shacker asked if we'd ever had it before and then suggested we try before we buy. In my estimation this did not bode well. However, when offered the two test spoons, we bravely ate, and were astounded that there might be people out there who didn't really adore it.
It was, for lack of a better word, corny. It tasted like corn but without an aftertaste (unless you burped a half hour later in which case, well, it was a burp that tasted of corn). The consistency was great, much better than any I have achieved at home where, even after pushing the corn liquid through the chinois 3-4 times, there's still, well, that vague corn consistency. I detected none of that in this ice cream.
It tasted of late summer, and yesterday was, admittedly a great late summer day. I never managed to get down to the Shack on a Sunday to try apricot, but I was pretty pleased with my homemade apricot ice cream. We'll have to see what September brings!
When I ordered for two, one for me and one for a friend, the Shake Shacker asked if we'd ever had it before and then suggested we try before we buy. In my estimation this did not bode well. However, when offered the two test spoons, we bravely ate, and were astounded that there might be people out there who didn't really adore it.
It was, for lack of a better word, corny. It tasted like corn but without an aftertaste (unless you burped a half hour later in which case, well, it was a burp that tasted of corn). The consistency was great, much better than any I have achieved at home where, even after pushing the corn liquid through the chinois 3-4 times, there's still, well, that vague corn consistency. I detected none of that in this ice cream.
It tasted of late summer, and yesterday was, admittedly a great late summer day. I never managed to get down to the Shack on a Sunday to try apricot, but I was pretty pleased with my homemade apricot ice cream. We'll have to see what September brings!
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
I Want to be a Daring Baker
I am a lurker. A shameless, shameless lurker. But one who is full of wonder.
Every month I patiently await the Daring Bakers Challenge, finding it so fascinating and wonderful that a group of bakers around the world have found a forum within which to experiment. The results are so different and each so lovely (yes, even the mistakes are wonderful) that it becomes my favorite day of the month when the posts are revealed.
Today, however, I wonder if I might cease my ceaseless lurking. I have a small home on the internet now. A poorly trafficked, mostly self-indulgent home, but a home nonetheless. Perhaps this coterie would accept my humble application to join their ranks and perhaps next month I could dare a little. In the meantime, these were the tarts that appealed most to me this month (and yes, my tastes skew to the modern):
- Alpineberry's tart is simple and unadorned and the mousse and caramel layers look really well defined and seem to be the perfect consistency.
- Foodbeam's individual tarts with spun sugar have a beautiful lip caused by the protrusion of the crust (I must find out how everyone else in the world removes tarts from mini tart pans without breakage, because I can never manage it).
- vanille & chocolat's look just about ready for a pastry case (again, my knife skills must be utterly lacking as I either smush or rip when I try to cut in straight lines - perhaps it's a continuation of being unable to paint within the lines).
- the barmy baker found the perfect piece of broken caramel with which to adorn this slice of tart. I also found her step by step photos gorgeous and I liked that she too makes fingerprints in her tart shells when filling them.
- but Dessert First is my favorite because I, too, am a sucker for the long rectangular tart pans. I don't have one, but I'm getting one as soon as I finish this post.
So thank you, Daring Bakers, for inspiring me to make this tart over the weekend. Know you'll be receiving a letter from me soon asking if there's room for one more.
Every month I patiently await the Daring Bakers Challenge, finding it so fascinating and wonderful that a group of bakers around the world have found a forum within which to experiment. The results are so different and each so lovely (yes, even the mistakes are wonderful) that it becomes my favorite day of the month when the posts are revealed.
Today, however, I wonder if I might cease my ceaseless lurking. I have a small home on the internet now. A poorly trafficked, mostly self-indulgent home, but a home nonetheless. Perhaps this coterie would accept my humble application to join their ranks and perhaps next month I could dare a little. In the meantime, these were the tarts that appealed most to me this month (and yes, my tastes skew to the modern):
- Alpineberry's tart is simple and unadorned and the mousse and caramel layers look really well defined and seem to be the perfect consistency. - Foodbeam's individual tarts with spun sugar have a beautiful lip caused by the protrusion of the crust (I must find out how everyone else in the world removes tarts from mini tart pans without breakage, because I can never manage it). - vanille & chocolat's look just about ready for a pastry case (again, my knife skills must be utterly lacking as I either smush or rip when I try to cut in straight lines - perhaps it's a continuation of being unable to paint within the lines). - the barmy baker found the perfect piece of broken caramel with which to adorn this slice of tart. I also found her step by step photos gorgeous and I liked that she too makes fingerprints in her tart shells when filling them. - but Dessert First is my favorite because I, too, am a sucker for the long rectangular tart pans. I don't have one, but I'm getting one as soon as I finish this post.So thank you, Daring Bakers, for inspiring me to make this tart over the weekend. Know you'll be receiving a letter from me soon asking if there's room for one more.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Bed Picnic
I love 'em, he hates 'em. I know why I love picnics in bed, though. I grew up in a one-bedroom apartment on the upper east side and my parents' bedroom was in the living room. They ate in bed all the time, really complex meals like hot dogs, french fries, and baked beans, while watching Miss America, the Yankees, or dad's favorite Entertainment Tonight. When my brother and I got to eat dinner in their bed it was the kind of fun that only emerges from something you know you're not supposed to be doing - eating in bed. My mother would lay out towels so we wouldn't spill on their sheets and I don't remember what we did with our glasses, but I do remember fighting with my brother over the fries and the feeling that while our living situation might have been less than ideal, we were a family that loved each other and managed not to kill one another even though we shared one bathroom and gave little thought to modesty.
So now I live in a much bigger apartment in a much worse neighborhood and we still manage to eat all our meals in bed. The living room is both uncomfortable and un-airconditioned, and there's no real table to speak of suitable for plates - also that table is more of a storage piece than a dining piece. We're getting a new couch in a couple of weeks and, its comfort pending, I might be convinced to eat more meals out of bed, but sitting cross-legged across from the man I love seems more intimate than sitting side by side on a couch hunched over a coffee table.
Friday afternoon I was craving something luxurious, I almost wanted to go out to dinner save for the fact that Friday at 3 is no time to go searching for Friday at 8 reservations and I hadn't taken a shower and I was wearing jeans, an Old Navy T, and flip flops. So instead I decided we'd have the Catalan tomato sandwiches from Figs Olives Wine. Whole Foods, for those keeping score, does not carry Serrano ham. After a couple of phone calls, however, it was determined that Citarella did and so I took the subway two stops during a late lunch break to pick up provisions including, the ham, the bread (a pugliese), and some unthought of delicacies. I thought there should be some variety so I bought a St. Marcellin cheese and a small hunk of foie gras.
So that evening, we spread out on our bed and started slicing bread. I had a box of unusual dark red, almost purple, larger than cherry, smaller than plum tomatoes leftover from Wednesday's market, and we destroyed those utterly as we ground them into our bread. The taste was perfect, and the foie and cheese were nice alternates as well - not as good as the oozing-with-unctuous-yellow-fat foie I had in France when last I visited (it was the only time I think I have ever played the "guest" card with my friends and took them up on their offer to finish up the last of the foie grsa).
We drank an absolutely fantastic rose which, obviously, I can now not find. A 2006 vin gris from producer Robert Sinskey which was so light in color as to be an almost yellow/peach color, and which was a perfect accompaniment to our sandwiches.
We were relaxed, we were looking forward to a weekend of few responsibilities, it was a good picnic.
And I didn't have two bratty kids trying to steal all the good food. Sorry mom and dad!
So now I live in a much bigger apartment in a much worse neighborhood and we still manage to eat all our meals in bed. The living room is both uncomfortable and un-airconditioned, and there's no real table to speak of suitable for plates - also that table is more of a storage piece than a dining piece. We're getting a new couch in a couple of weeks and, its comfort pending, I might be convinced to eat more meals out of bed, but sitting cross-legged across from the man I love seems more intimate than sitting side by side on a couch hunched over a coffee table.
Friday afternoon I was craving something luxurious, I almost wanted to go out to dinner save for the fact that Friday at 3 is no time to go searching for Friday at 8 reservations and I hadn't taken a shower and I was wearing jeans, an Old Navy T, and flip flops. So instead I decided we'd have the Catalan tomato sandwiches from Figs Olives Wine. Whole Foods, for those keeping score, does not carry Serrano ham. After a couple of phone calls, however, it was determined that Citarella did and so I took the subway two stops during a late lunch break to pick up provisions including, the ham, the bread (a pugliese), and some unthought of delicacies. I thought there should be some variety so I bought a St. Marcellin cheese and a small hunk of foie gras.
So that evening, we spread out on our bed and started slicing bread. I had a box of unusual dark red, almost purple, larger than cherry, smaller than plum tomatoes leftover from Wednesday's market, and we destroyed those utterly as we ground them into our bread. The taste was perfect, and the foie and cheese were nice alternates as well - not as good as the oozing-with-unctuous-yellow-fat foie I had in France when last I visited (it was the only time I think I have ever played the "guest" card with my friends and took them up on their offer to finish up the last of the foie grsa).
We drank an absolutely fantastic rose which, obviously, I can now not find. A 2006 vin gris from producer Robert Sinskey which was so light in color as to be an almost yellow/peach color, and which was a perfect accompaniment to our sandwiches.
We were relaxed, we were looking forward to a weekend of few responsibilities, it was a good picnic.
And I didn't have two bratty kids trying to steal all the good food. Sorry mom and dad!
Friday, August 24, 2007
Another week, another assortment of tags
While I await more of can this this weekend, here's what I looked at this week:
Vanilla Bean Cheesecake with Caramelized Figs - Notwithstanding the fig ordering debacle, I think there are still enough salvageable figs to make this this weekend. If only the man of the house loved figs as I do...
Madeleines - One can really never have too many recipes, especially if one, say, is a new eponymous shop that has opened in New York whose madeleines tasted quite similar to sponge or rubber.
Fig Almond Tartelettes - But do I have enough usable figs to make this as well? I fear not as I really am crazing fig ice cream, seconded by chocolate fig cake. Perhaps I'll take a chance at the figs from the corner or Whole Foods.
Catalan Tomato Bread - Dear god, this is tonight's dinner. I must find Serrano ham asap! Holy crap it looks good.
Tomato Confiture - Damn - I didn't make it to the market this morning, maybe I'll sneak out now.
Pistachio Cherry Financiers - Mmmmm, sour cherry season is pretty much over. Next year?
Vanilla Bean Cheesecake with Caramelized Figs - Notwithstanding the fig ordering debacle, I think there are still enough salvageable figs to make this this weekend. If only the man of the house loved figs as I do...
Madeleines - One can really never have too many recipes, especially if one, say, is a new eponymous shop that has opened in New York whose madeleines tasted quite similar to sponge or rubber.
Fig Almond Tartelettes - But do I have enough usable figs to make this as well? I fear not as I really am crazing fig ice cream, seconded by chocolate fig cake. Perhaps I'll take a chance at the figs from the corner or Whole Foods.
Catalan Tomato Bread - Dear god, this is tonight's dinner. I must find Serrano ham asap! Holy crap it looks good.
Tomato Confiture - Damn - I didn't make it to the market this morning, maybe I'll sneak out now.
Pistachio Cherry Financiers - Mmmmm, sour cherry season is pretty much over. Next year?
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
A Tale of Two Fruit Deliveries
From October through March, I have the good fortune of spending my money on beautiful California citrus (and a couple of pomegranates as well). The farm, Rising C. Ranches, provides me with awesome Meyer lemons, pink lemons, various limes, and the amazing Moro blood oranges. I may well buy 150 pounds of citrus per season. The stuff shows up when I schedule it too, they make arrangements to ship on specific days so that it can arrive on specific days, occasionally they throw in a sample of something I haven't ordered before (Bergamot anyone?), and are generally really attentive and customer driven. And not really all that expensive when you remember that Meyer lemons can top 5 bucks a pound at various fancy markets.
This summer I wanted figs. We really aren't in the proper climate for local figs, so I looked westward again. I only found two places shipping fresh black mission figs, and I chose the less expensive of the two. And less expensive is a highly relative term. The price range for a single box of figs was 8-20 dollars - per pint sized box, so I was pretty hopeful that the money would be well spent. I called the company before I placed my order to determine what shipping company they used so that I could prepare for the delivery on my side (I know the driver for one of the shipping companies and he arranges to personally schedule delivery times with me to ensure I am there to receive packages - I love you Terrence, man!). After being assured that all was copacetic, I placed my order while trying to inwardly justify the price.
Then I plotted the wonderful things I was going to do with my bounty: would I make a chocolate fig cake like the one the pastry chef at Grocery was once known for? Would I make fig ice cream, fig tart, fig cheesecake? I was psyched for whatever would get made and also pretty jacked for merely sinking my teeth into the first fig savoring the texture and the taste.
The first thing that went wrong was that my shipping confirmation arrived with tracking information for the other shipping company, the one I didn't have a personal relationship, the one that was under no obligation to wait until I was home from work before delivering. The farm was closed so I called the shipping company and mercifully was allowed to waive the signature requirement over the phone and authorize the leaving of the package on my doorstep unattended.
So I got home yesterday evening to find that my nice next door neighbor had taken the box from my unattended doorstep into her apartment and now gave it back to me, demurring when I offered her some figs of her own. I eagerly opened the box.
The first thing I noticed was that the pound of pluots I had thrown onto the order on a whim were packed in a plastic bag wrapped in paper and tossed next to a large box full of figs. So, basically, completely vulnerable to the movement that is national shipping. As a result, each was severely bruised and battered and susceptible to bacteria. In other words, I wasn't eating them. I opened the box within the box to find my figs which were packed very well atop several cool packs. Unfortunately, the cool packs weren't insulated and condensation was everywhere. Moisture content is the enemy.
The figs, upon first glance, looked fine. I started unpacking them to remove any that were moisture damaged and to make the others were toweled off to prevent spoilage. What greeted me was truly disheartening. In each of the seven boxes I bought, 1/3-1/2 of the figs were unusable. Some had holes that looked astonishingly similar to animal teeth marks; some were so overripe they had burst, and yes, some were already molding. Of those that were salvageable, more than half were way riper than I thought they should have been given the mandatory next day shipping requirement which, for me, implied that they were picked and packed on the same day.
I angrily called the company and to its credit I was refunded for about half of the figs, but they sounded both suspicious and uncaring. Much as they were when I mentioned the shipping company issue and was asked, "well what do you want me to do?" Uh, lady, an apology might be a good start. I tasted my first fig and it was ordinary. I'm still going to use the salvageable ones and be happy for fresh figs of any stripe, but I'm looking at the guy on the corner with the 2 dollar boxes of figs with more friendliness in my gaze.
I haven't named names here because I'm not out to ruin someone's business. Perhaps got a bum crop and a bum customer service representative, and I certainly don't need to prejudice anyone based on my experience (an experience that will not be repeated, mind you, and the idea of repeating it filled me with suppressed mirth as the representative asked me if I wanted the credit back on my credit card or applied to a future order - as if), but you'll be able to figure it out based on the limited number of people selling figs, if you are so inclined. I was just really pissed and really disappointed.
But do check out Rising C. Ranches - they're amazing.
This summer I wanted figs. We really aren't in the proper climate for local figs, so I looked westward again. I only found two places shipping fresh black mission figs, and I chose the less expensive of the two. And less expensive is a highly relative term. The price range for a single box of figs was 8-20 dollars - per pint sized box, so I was pretty hopeful that the money would be well spent. I called the company before I placed my order to determine what shipping company they used so that I could prepare for the delivery on my side (I know the driver for one of the shipping companies and he arranges to personally schedule delivery times with me to ensure I am there to receive packages - I love you Terrence, man!). After being assured that all was copacetic, I placed my order while trying to inwardly justify the price.
Then I plotted the wonderful things I was going to do with my bounty: would I make a chocolate fig cake like the one the pastry chef at Grocery was once known for? Would I make fig ice cream, fig tart, fig cheesecake? I was psyched for whatever would get made and also pretty jacked for merely sinking my teeth into the first fig savoring the texture and the taste.
The first thing that went wrong was that my shipping confirmation arrived with tracking information for the other shipping company, the one I didn't have a personal relationship, the one that was under no obligation to wait until I was home from work before delivering. The farm was closed so I called the shipping company and mercifully was allowed to waive the signature requirement over the phone and authorize the leaving of the package on my doorstep unattended.
So I got home yesterday evening to find that my nice next door neighbor had taken the box from my unattended doorstep into her apartment and now gave it back to me, demurring when I offered her some figs of her own. I eagerly opened the box.
The first thing I noticed was that the pound of pluots I had thrown onto the order on a whim were packed in a plastic bag wrapped in paper and tossed next to a large box full of figs. So, basically, completely vulnerable to the movement that is national shipping. As a result, each was severely bruised and battered and susceptible to bacteria. In other words, I wasn't eating them. I opened the box within the box to find my figs which were packed very well atop several cool packs. Unfortunately, the cool packs weren't insulated and condensation was everywhere. Moisture content is the enemy.
The figs, upon first glance, looked fine. I started unpacking them to remove any that were moisture damaged and to make the others were toweled off to prevent spoilage. What greeted me was truly disheartening. In each of the seven boxes I bought, 1/3-1/2 of the figs were unusable. Some had holes that looked astonishingly similar to animal teeth marks; some were so overripe they had burst, and yes, some were already molding. Of those that were salvageable, more than half were way riper than I thought they should have been given the mandatory next day shipping requirement which, for me, implied that they were picked and packed on the same day.
I angrily called the company and to its credit I was refunded for about half of the figs, but they sounded both suspicious and uncaring. Much as they were when I mentioned the shipping company issue and was asked, "well what do you want me to do?" Uh, lady, an apology might be a good start. I tasted my first fig and it was ordinary. I'm still going to use the salvageable ones and be happy for fresh figs of any stripe, but I'm looking at the guy on the corner with the 2 dollar boxes of figs with more friendliness in my gaze.
I haven't named names here because I'm not out to ruin someone's business. Perhaps got a bum crop and a bum customer service representative, and I certainly don't need to prejudice anyone based on my experience (an experience that will not be repeated, mind you, and the idea of repeating it filled me with suppressed mirth as the representative asked me if I wanted the credit back on my credit card or applied to a future order - as if), but you'll be able to figure it out based on the limited number of people selling figs, if you are so inclined. I was just really pissed and really disappointed.
But do check out Rising C. Ranches - they're amazing.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
