It's the Cheesiest!

While reorganizing my pantry the other day, I came across a random package of elbow macaroni, the purpose of buying of which I can not recall. However, in these days of wasting not, I decided I'd make a little old-fashioned Macaroni & Cheese for dinner last night.

A few months ago, while listening to an episode of NPR's cooking program, "The Splendid Table," I heard host Lynne Rossetto Kasper's unusual recipe for Macaroni & Cheese, that did not begin with the traditional bechamel sauce. She swore by this recipe as the absolute best version of the classic American favorite. Given I'd never attempted any other recipe for mac-n-cheese than the standard bechamel-based, I figured I'd give this a shot.

The resulting dish featured a rich, creamy sauce, that was fragrant of fresh garlic and onion. It was definitely easy to assemble--the sauce created in the bowl of a food processor instead of a saucepan--and required no fancy ingredients. Texturally, it was different than a traditional macaroni and cheese--the addition of egg gave it a slightly custard-y mouthfeel that Todd likened to his mother's cheesy potatoes. That aside, however, it was delicious and will definitely remain in my repetoire of recipes.

Lynne Rossetto Kasper's Macaroni & Cheese (recipe has been doubled, below)

2 c. raw elbow macaroni, cooked and drained

2 large eggs

1 1/3 c. milk

2 garlic cloves, peeled

1 medium onion, coarsely chopped

1 1/3 c. shredded sharp cheddar cheese

8 oz. cream cheese

1/4 tsp. each of red chili flakes, black pepper, and salt

1/2 tsp. sweet paprika

4 Tbsp. melted butter

12 saltine crackers, crumbled

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter a deep 2-quart baking dish and add cooked macaroni.

In a blender or food processor, combine egg, milk, and garlic, and process 3 seconds. Add onion, cheeses, and seasonings, and process 10 seconds. Turn into the baking dish, combining with macaroni.

Combine melted butter and cracker crumbs in a small bowl and spread over top of casserole. Bake 30-35 minutes until thick, yet creamy. Let stand about 5 minutes before serving.

Note: I found the onion to be slightly overpowering and recommend cutting the amount slightly. Also, I recommend making the sauce in a blender instead of a food processor--the amount of liquid called for is too much for a processor bowl. I learned this the hard way, and ended up with a small, milky mess on my countertop...and backsplash...and floor.

For more recipes from The Splendid Table, visit http://splendidtable.publicradio.org/

Granola Girl

Ever since I started picking up bags of granola during my Eastern Market runs--first the locally-made Randy's Original Granola, then the organic granola from Hampshire Farms--I've been preoccupied with the idea of making my own. I've taken, recently, to starting out my day with a bowl of non- or low-fat organic vanilla yogurt topped with a handful of granola. It's an easy post-workout breakfast, and pretty nutritious to boot.

Once again adapting a recipe from Epicurious, I set out to make my own granola. I started with some organic oatmeal from Hampshire Farms, and combined it with local and/or organic products, including local honey from a gentleman running a stand at Eastern Market in Detroit; golden raisins, dried apricots, and slivered almonds from Western Market in Ferndale; and flaxseeds from Bob's Red Mill, known for its full line of natural and certified organic products.

Homemade Granola (adapted from Real Food for Healthy Kids, July 2008, via epicurious.com)

1/2 c. walnut oil

1/3 c. maple syrup or honey

1/4 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. vanilla

1 tsp. cinnamon

4 c. organic oatmeal

1/4 c. flaxseeds

1 c. chopped dried apricots

1 c. golden raisins

1 c. slivered almonds, toasted

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Combine the walnut oil, maple syrup or honey, salt, vanilla, and cinnamon in a large bowl. If using honey that has crystallized, place bowl over a saucepan of simmering water and stir until honey has melted and loosened.

Stir in oatmeal and flaxseeds until evenly combined. Spread out onto a parchment paper-lined sheet pan and bake 25 minutes until golden, stirring once with a spatula about halfway through. Let cool in the pan--the mixture will crisp as it cools. Add the apricots, raisins, and almonds and toss together. Makes approximately 8 cups of granola.

Flaxseeds contain high amounts of Omega-3 fatty acids, which protect bone health while providing protection against heart disease, cancer, and diabetes. Dried apricots are full of beta carotene and dietary fiber, while raisins are high in fiber, antioxidants, and calcium. Similar to olive oil, almonds contain important monounsaturated fats which are associated with reduced risk of heart disease (Sources: http://www.whfoods.com/, http://healthmad.com/).

For more information on Randy's Granola, visit http://www.randysgranola.com/

Snow Day

On the occasion last week of what I hope was our last snow day of the season, my thoughts turned to the kitchen to bake something yummy to accompany lunch that afternoon. I had just made, the night before, a batch of White Bean & Kale Soup with some home-cooked cannelini beans and kale from my farmers' market run a couple of days earlier. Knowing I still had a small bit of buttermilk left over from the ice cream I made a couple of weeks previously, I thought I'd use the last of it to try my hand at buttermilk biscuits.

I had bought a quart of Calder Dairy buttermilk to make the buttermilk ice cream I mentioned in an earlier post. Calder is a local dairy with its own farm in Carleton, Michigan, and a dairy store in Lincoln Park. It's been getting some good press lately, for its use of milk from its own cows, and its earth-friendly practices such as bottling its milk in recyclable glass bottles and relying on healthy feed instead of artificial hormones to enhance milk production. Its products are available nearby at Western Market in Ferndale, Westborn Market in Berkley, and Holiday Market in Royal Oak, and are featured prominently on the menu of one of my fave dining spots: Mudgie's Deli in Corktown.

Given buttermilk has a quite long shelf-life, I knew it would be safe to finish off the last of it to make a batch of fresh biscuits to go with my soup. I found a basic recipe from Epicurious and doctored it a bit to create something a little more special than just plain buttermilk biscuits. The result:

Parmesan-Black Pepper Buttermilk Biscuits (adapted from Gourmet, June 2005, via epicurious.com)

1 1/2 c. all purpose flour

1 1/2 Tbsp. sugar

1 1/2 tsp. baking powder

1/4 tsp. salt

1/4 tsp. baking soda

1/2 stick cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes

3/4 c. grated Parmigiano Reggiano (divided)

2 tsp. freshly cracked black pepper

3/4 c. well-shaken buttermilk

1 Tbsp. milk or cream for brushing biscuits

Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

Sift together flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and baking soda into a bowl. Blend in butter with fingertips (or cut in with 2 butter knives) until mixture resembles coarse meal. Add 1/2 cup of Parmigiano and all of the black pepper. Stir in buttermilk with a fork until a dough just forms (will be moist).

Turn dough onto a floured surface and knead gently 6 times. Pat dough out into an 8 x 5.5-inch rectangle and cut evenly into 6 biscuits (8, if smaller biscuits are desired). Transfer to a sheet pan lined with parchment paper. Brush tops with 1 Tbsp. milk or cream, then sprinkle with remaining 1/4 cup Parmigiano.

Bake until pale golden, 12-15 minutes, then transfer to a rack to cool.

I realized when baking these that my baking powder and/or baking soda had lost some of their leavening power. Be sure to use fresh powder and soda to ensure the biscuits get a good rise. Mine were slightly flat, but tasted delicious nonetheless.

I've been wanting to take a field trip to both the Calder store as well as the farm to learn more about their products and their dairy operation. Hopefully, I'll make it to the store soon and the farm this spring. For more information, visit their website:

http://calderdairy.com/

Unapologetically Omnivorous

Herbivores: You may want to pass on this particular blog entry and skip ahead to my next one on biscuits, or jump back to a previous veggie-friendly entry, such as my recent writings on home-cooked beans. That's because this one is dedicated to the omnivores--specifically those who lean toward carnivore, and are not especially squeamish about less "choice" cuts of meat.

During a particularly lonely exile to the hinterlands of the northern suburbs of Metro Detroit (okay, I was dog-sitting for my vacationing brother in Rochester), I took an opportunity to experiment in the kitchen with a dish I'd enjoyed several times in restaurants but never at home: Pork Belly.

Ever since my recent trip to the Philippines, where I encountered pork belly (known locally as liempo) in countless culinary applications, I've been obsessed with the stuff. Roasted, deep fried, and braised, I couldn't get enough of it. I even happened upon a fast food version at a food court vendor called "Liempo Boy." I secretly adopted that as my superhero name.

In recent years, pork belly--which is, basically, a fresh, uncured, unsmoked slab of belly bacon--has become the darling of chefs here in the U.S. I recently enjoyed it roasted and served atop a salad at Lola in Cleveland, glazed and seared at The Publican in Chicago, and sliced and served as a salumi at Boccalone in San Francisco. Cuisines from Asia to Europe to Latin America favor this humble cut, due to its relatively low cost, but richness of flavor.

I was recently able to get my hands on a nice cut of pork belly, with a nice proportion of meat sandwiched between two layers of unctuous fat, and capped with a thick layer of rind. This last part is, usually, what turns people off the most (even those who are typically bacon-eaters), but it's my most favorite. Growing up in an ethnic household, I was exposed to pork rind all my eating life--from the crispy skin of lechon (whole, spit-roasted pig) to the crunchy pork rinds we snacked on, dipping them in a sauce of spicy vinegar and garlic. The Publican restaurant in Chicago offered a pork rind appetizer, which was airy and crispy, and absolutely melt-in-your-mouth delicious.

With this fresh belly, I knew I wanted to make sure I maximized its full crunchy crackling potential. After consulting several on-line recipes, I finally settled on a treatment offered by Jamie Oliver, the "Naked Chef." His recipe was simple, and his technique, effortless. After a brief high-temperature roasting to sear the meat and crisp the skin, he lowers the heat and finishes roasting the pork belly atop aromatic vegetables, which ultimately he uses to flavor his gravy. I borrowed his recipe for technique rather than ingredients, instead devising my own soy sauce-based glaze which, when combined with the pan juices, made for a delicious sauce on its own.

Roasted Soy-Lacquered Pork Belly

1 1-lb. slab fresh pork belly

salt & pepper, to taste

1 c. low-sodium soy sauce

1/2 c. honey

4 cloves garlic, crushed

1 tsp. ginger, grated

Juice of 1 orange

Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Using a sharp knife, score the skin of the pork belly, being careful not to cut too far into the fat. Sprinkle salt into the surface of the skin and into the scores. Brush off any excess salt. Turn pork over and salt and pepper the underside. Place pork belly in a non-stick or foil-lined roasting pan, skin side up, and roast in the oven until the skin has begun to crisp and turn golden brown, approximately 30 minutes.

Meanwhile, in a saucepan, combine the remaining ingredients and simmer over medium heat, until reduced into a thick glaze. Set aside.

Remove pork from the oven and baste with pan juices. If there is an excessive amount of fat in the pan, pour some off or remove with a turkey baster. Lower temperature to 350 degrees and return the pork to the oven to roast for an additional 45 minutes.

Remove pork from the oven again, and pour off any excessive fat. Brush the top of the skin and the sides with the glaze. Return to the oven for a final 15 minutes, brushing with more glaze about half-way through.

Remove pork from the pan and allow to rest, approximately 10 minutes. Slice into 3/4-inch strips or into 2x2-inch chunks, spooning pan juices over, upon plating. If there is any reserved soy glaze, you may wish to spoon that over, as well. Serves 4 as an entree or 6 as a first course.

For the record, here's Jamie's original recipe for Pork Belly Roast:

http://www.channel4.com/food/recipes/chefs/jamie-oliver/pork-belly-roast-recipe_p_1.html

Sweetwater's Donut Mill, Kalamazoo, MI

As featured in Saveur Magazine's Top 100.

Clockwise from upper left: Black Forest, Mounds, Orange Juice, Peanut Butter Cup, New York Cheesecake, Caramello, Chocolate Cloud, Snickers




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Just Desserts

Just desserts. That seems to be all that came out of my kitchen this past weekend. With two potluck invitations in store for Saturday and Sunday evenings, I opted to take the sweet route for each.

Saturday night was a farewell party for a friend heading off to start a new life in Chicago. As I combed through my cupboards, I was happy to find the exact ingredients to make Baklava: honey, walnuts, phyllo dough, butter, and spices were all I needed to throw together the simple, yet flavorfully complex, Mediterranean dessert.

I found a recipe on epicurious.com, which came from the July 2009 issue of Gourmet magazine, and adapted it slightly. Rather than use the lemon rind as called for in the recipe, I went with what I had handy in the produce drawer: clementines. The clementine rind gave the baklava a seasonal slant and a subtle orange-y fragrance. Also, I halved the amount of syrup called for in the original recipe, and found it to be more than sufficient. Finally, for a more attractive presentation, I reserved some walnuts and ground them finely, for sprinkling on top of the baked baklava after the syrup has been poured over.

BAKLAVA (adapted from Gourmet magazine, July 2009)

• Filling:
• 3 1/4 cups walnuts, chopped + 1/4 cup walnuts, finely ground, for topping
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom
• 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
• 1 pound package phyllo sheets, thawed
• 1 1/2 cups butter, melted

Syrup (quantities have been halved from the original recipe):

• 1 cup sugar
• 3/4 cups water
• 1/4 cup honey
• 1/8 lemon, peel only (I used an equivalent quantity of grated clementine rind)
• 1/2 clove

Preheat the oven to 375°F.

Mix together the chopped walnuts (reserving ground walnuts for topping), sugar, and spices and set aside.

As you work, keep the sheets of phyllo covered with plastic wrap to keep them from drying out. Place 1 sheet of phyllo on the bottom of a jelly roll pan (12-inch x16-inch). (Alternately, I used a glass baking dish, 9.5" x 15". A standard 9" x 13" glass dish will also work). Brush the dough lightly with melted butter. Repeat this process until there are 8 sheets of phyllo in the pan.

Sprinkle two-thirds of the nut mixture onto the phyllo sheets.

Place 4 more sheets of phyllo on top of the nuts, brushing melted butter between each sheet.

Place the remaining one-third of the nut mixture on the dough.

Layer the remaining sheets of phyllo on top of the nuts, brushing melted butter in between each sheet. Brush the top sheet with butter as well.

Trim the edges so that they do not stand above the level of the dough.

Cut the pastry into 2-inch squares (I cut them into diamonds), making sure not to slice through the bottom layer of phyllo dough. Leaving the bottom layer uncut will allow the syrup to soak in more efficiently.

Bake at 375°F for 25–30 minutes or until the top layer of the phyllo takes on a light golden brown color.

While the dough bakes prepare the syrup. Combine all of the ingredients and bring to a boil. Remove the clove and lemon peel.

Remove the pan from the oven and immediately pour hot syrup over the baklava. Sprinkle with reserved, finely ground walnuts.

Before serving allow the baklava to stand at room temperature until cooled. Slice through the bottom layer of phyllo dough and serve.

On Sunday night, we launched a monthly cooking club with a handful of foodie friends. The theme for our inaugural dinner was comfort food, and I volunteered to take on dessert. Todd had spied a recipe in the May 2009 issue of Bon Appetit, and decided he wanted to tackle it: Mile High Chocolate Cake with Vanilla Buttercream. It was included in an article featuring updated versions of favorite diner desserts, along with Peanut Butter Banana Cream Pie and S'mores Dark Chocolate Pudding among others. I decided I would take my underused, but much appreciated, ice cream maker for a spin and make an accompanying ice cream to go alongside. Knowing the chocolate cake would likely be terrifically sweet, I remembered a recipe I'd seen in the March 2008 issue of Bon Appetit for a Buttermilk Ice Cream. I figured its promise of a tangy, yet sweet and creamy, flavor would provide a perfect foil for the cake.

With a few tweaks to the recipe--not to mention a change in who'd be doing the baking (namely, me)--the cake had only a fair outcome. It was not nearly chocolaty enough, and the texture was not as moist and tender as I wished. However, my decision to use a less complicated buttercream recipe other than the one given did save time without compromising flavor. I'm going to continue to seek out a better recipe for the cake; however, the "mile-high" concept, layered with buttercream and dripping with gooey chocolate ganache, is one that I'll definitely follow in future efforts.

Meanwhile, the ice cream was creamy and unctious and, with the tang of the buttermilk and addition of clementine rind, indeed balanced the sweetness of the cake. It was a fairly pricey effort, however, as the recipe called for the use of notoriously costly creme fraiche in addition to buttermilk and heavy cream. I'm certain there's a less expensive version out there--perhaps I'll give it another shot in the future. Rather than post recipes at this point, I'll only post photos of the cake and ice cream for now. As I devise an alternate combination of recipes, I'll be sure to provide them here.

Smoky Greens & Beans

I had a quite the marvelous market haul this past Saturday from my brief, early morning jaunt to Eastern Market. For just over $10, I scored some great local, late-season produce, including kale, spinach, brussels sprouts, broccoli, potatoes, and onions the size of a small child's head. On top of that, I picked up a dozen organic, pastured eggs from the Hampshire Farms stand, where I'd purchased the split peas mentioned my previous post.

We were pretty booked all weekend long, so I was really looking forward to getting into the kitchen this week and cooking up some hearty, wintry dishes with my haul. While flipping through a recent issue of Bon Appetit, I found the exact recipe to kick off my week. It would make use not only of some of the aforementioned produce, but also the gorgeous speckled and striated dried Roman beans I picked up at Ventimiglia's Italian Market in Sterling Heights. Also known--among other names--as cranberry beans and Borlotti beans, these are white with deep red striations, and similar in size to cannellini (white kidney) beans. They're firm yet creamy in texture and nutty in flavor, and are typically used in soups and stews. As such, when paired with the beautifully curly kale from the market, they made for a delicious winter stew for tonight's dinner. The smokiness of the Spanish paprika contrasted nicely with the vegetal taste of the kale and the nuttiness of the beans.

Smoky Greens and Beans (Bon Appetit, November 2009)

While this recipe calls for canned cannellini beans, I substituted them with an equal quantity of home-cooked Roman beans, prepared via the method in my January 5 entry, "Mangiafagioli")

2 Tbsp. olive oil

1 large onion, chopped

2 garlic cloves, chopped

1 14.5-oz. can diced tomatoes in juice

1-1/2 tsp. smoked Spanish paprika (Pimenton Picante or Pimonton de La Vera Picante)

1 14.5-oz. can vegetable broth (I substituted with water)

8 c. coarsely chopped greens (e.g., kale, mustard greens, collard greens)

1 15-oz. can cannellini beans, drained

Grated Manchego or Parmigiano cheese (optional)

Heat oil in heavy large pot over medium heat. Add onion and saute until soft and beggining to brown, about 6 minutes. Add garlic; stir 1 minute. Add tomatoes with juice and paprika; stir 1 minute. Add broth and greens; bring to boil, stirring often. Reduce heat to medium-low, cover, and simmer until greens are wilted and tender, stirring occasionally, about 15 minutes. Stir in beans and simmer 1 minute to heat through. Divide among bowls; sprinkle with cheese, if desired. Serves 4.

"This is poor people food!" Todd exclaimed when he peered into the pot of simmering beans. Yes, beans are known to be traditionally peasant food--they're economical, healthful, and belly-filling. They're a delicious source of protein and fiber, which is perfect, as I search for ways to cut down on my consumption of animal proteins and carbohydrates.