Showing posts with label chocolate. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chocolate. Show all posts

Sunday, December 28, 2014

Holiday indulgences

...and more than a month after Thanksgiving, we're back. A bit of a vacation replete with food and reading (This essay by Bob Shacochis perfectly encapsulates emptiness and heart-wrenching loss; no need to have a particular yen for children to appreciate it.) turned into a big distraction! Christmas first:

Not everything from Intern Thanksgiving ended up in photos, but luckily, dessert--always the most important course--got captured.

Nusstorte, served with a spicy pecan popcorn praline.

Cranberry tarts, served with whipped orange goat cheese crema.
The nusstorte got a redux at Christmas. Here were all the courses, minus the lemon pepper leek soup and my uncle's brined turkey:

With cranberry-satsuma compote, a variant of Mark Bittman's
frozen honey mouse that incorporated a tart creme fraiche, and
candied satsuma rind.

Chocolate-peppermint cookies dipped in dark
chocolate (tempered by my mom!) and sprinkled
with crushed candy canes.

So. Many. Orecchiette.

Creamy roasted tomato sauce, mixed roasted vegetables, and
the orecchiette tossed with the best herb sauce ever. I wish
I'd gotten a picture of just the sauce; it was a gorgeous shade
of jade-green. No recipe, of course, but it involved fresh basil,
thyme, oregano, and briefly blanched spinach.

Mixed greens with olives, mixed orange supremes
(Cara Cara, blood, and satsuma), caramelized fennel,
and an orange-fennel vinaigrette with basil oil.
I'm a little over the cranberry/citrus/nut spectrum of desserts. The piloncillo, vanilla, and chilies I got from Mexico and the spices my best friend brought me from Zanzibar beckon.

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Breakaway, breakdown

omgomgomg Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk is coming to the Met! Except... how am I going to find time to go if I can't even find time to post? All my non-Bellevue hours have gone to the gym, or to journaling, or to reading*, or, to be fair, to cooking. I haven't worked at any other city hospital, but this one... this one can get under your skin. Could it be the constant need--not medical, but social--of so many people with whom it can feel impossible to relate? Or is it the more quotidian sleep deprivation that plagues all interns? There's just something that, at the end of the day, makes me crave a selfish withdrawal inward, even when it comes to posting a few silly, superficial thoughts on an amateur food bloog.

Somehow, though, there has been time for tiny pears (Seckel pears, to be exact), made into peppery ginger scones:



And mini chocolate babka:

Spreading rich cinnamon-chocolate filling over a yeasted dough...



And a spur-of-the-moment rosemary, grape, and feta focaccia:

And then, because I am me, I ate the remaining pound of grapes.

Now, what do I make for my last weekend on Bellevue floors, macarons or mini nusstorten?

*Here, read this creepy tale!

(Title of this post being an allusion to this story.)

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Where does the time go?


So... CCU. Yeah. Wow. Look, apples!



This circle contains such varieties as Enterprize, Liberty, TFO-1 (not as delicious as I'd hoped, given the exciting name), and Summergold. In one of my very few free days, I also found this massive Japanese radish that tasted great with apple and a miso-honey dressing.


Enough of produce, though. Andy recently earned a great academic distinction and, when asked how he wanted to celebrate, answered, "With nougat." Well, sir, then nougat you shall have.


I actually think the hazelnut mastiha nougat was the least delicious component of these homemade fancy Snickers. Out of impatience, I poured on the cayenne caramel layer before the nougat had fully dried, so it stayed kind of sticky even after the bars had set overnight.

There is a dollar store nearby that inexplicably sells Wilton candy molds for five to ten dollars. I seriously considered buying one in order to make these, but couldn't get over the stupidity of stuffing another implement into my overstuffed kitchen, so settled for ugly candy bars. Plus, I'm not sure if the dukkah and candied orange peel would have stuck had I used a mold. Next time, I may cut the bars before putting on the final layer of chocolate (super-dark 75%) so they look more like a real Snickers.

Of course, since candy for dinner is not healthful, I also made ravioli with a pumpkin, mascarpone, and harissa filling, and a spicy spinach fennel bechamel.




So good for you, I know.

Grown-up Snickers

Quality dark (very dark) chocolate
Dukkah (homemade, kicking around from when I made this amazing recipe)
Thinly sliced candied orange peel (I made my own in the microwave)

Line an 8x8 metal baking pan with parchment paper, molded tightly to the pan. Melt some chocolate (about 1/2 to 2/3 cup) and spread in an even layer on the bottom of the pan. Allow to cool completely, at least 1.5 hours, before you start the nougat.

Hazelnut nougat
1 cup granulated sugar
1/3 cup honey
1/4 cup water
1 large egg white
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
pinch salt
I cup chopped toasted hazelnuts
Optional: 3-4 grains mastiha

Over medium-low heat, whisk the honey, sugar, and water in a small saucepan until the sugar is melted. Cook without stirring until the syrup reaches 248F. Meanwhile, beat the egg white until it forms stiff peaks. When the syrup is ready, slowly pour into the egg white with the beater running (for which I used a stand mixture with the whisk attachment). Continue to beat until the candy is stiff but spreadable and lukewarm to room temperature. Fold in the nuts, salt, and vanilla, and spread over your first chocolate layer. Alternatively, only fold in the salt and vanilla, then sprinkle the nuts on top after you've spread it in (if you prefer to have the nuts embedded in the caramel). Allow to set completely--and here was my mistake, so please let it set for at least 6 hours--before preparing the caramel.

Cayenne caramel
2 tablespoons honey
3/4 cup granulated sugar
2 tablespoons water
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 tsp vanilla
1/2 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons butter
cayenne pepper to taste (I like spicy, so I used lots!)

In a large pot or saucepan (at least 2 quarts), whisk together the sugar, water, and honey. Cook without stirring until the syrup is at 290F.

Meanwhile, mix the heavy cream, butter, and salt in a microwaveable container. Microwave until the butter is melted and the mixture is very hot, but do not allow it to boil. It should still be steaming by the time you're ready to add it to the syrup.

When the syrup is at temperature, remove it from the heat and slowly pour in the cream mixture, whisking constantly. It will bubble and sputter. When it is fully whisked in, cook without stirring over medium-high heat to 250F. Whisk in the vanilla and remove from the heat. Allow to cool for a couple minutes in the pot before you pour it over the nougat layer; it should still be spreadable, but not so hot that it melts the nougat.

Let the caramel set for at least 2.5 hours before you pour on the final chocolate layer. If you want to cut the bars first and dip them in the tempered chocolate, definitely let it set for a good 6 hours.

David Lebovitz has a great guide to tempering chocolate here. Do that, then pour over the caramel layer (or dip the bars in). Allow to set for 30 minutes or so, then sprinkle on dukkah (and a bit of sea salt if your dukkah is not salted) and some candied orange rind. Don't let it set too long or the toppings won't stick, but do wait a little while or the spices will just melt into the chocolate.

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Leftovers

Way to forget to post this for several days, Hannah.

It's generally easy to avoid owning single-purpose kitchen items when your kitchen is the size of most people's closets. You just have to think, "Will I be able to fit my hand in the drawer if I purchase this? No? Am I willing to throw something away in order to own it? No? Back on the shelf." (Exceptions: I do own a mandoline, to make up for my amateur knife skills, and a KitchenAid pasta attachment, because fresh pasta needs no excuses.)

Much more difficult is avoiding single-purpose ingredients. You know what I mean: those extracts and vinegars and cheeses that one and only one recipe requires. Plenty of times I'll concoct a substitute or just move on to the next recipe--I'm looking at you, black vinegar--but sometimes I just have to have it. Thus the head of black garlic that's been languishing in my fridge for months. Thus my habit of allowing a couple stray ounces of goat cheese to go crusty, because who can finish a log of goat cheese that fast, anyway?

But no more! Time to use up a lot of black garlic!

This is black garlic cod with mushroom agnolotti, frizzled kale, and a celeriac and parsley puree.



Have a quick agnolotti tutorial:

Agnolotti can be folded-over squares or circles; I went for
squares, not in the least because it gave me an excuse to buy
a square cutter (for a dollar!) that will really help with biscuits.
The dough is an egg-enriched pasta rolled out to the second-
thickest setting on my KitchenAid.

Place a quarter-teaspoon of filling slightly off-center toward
one of the points. Trust me when I say that's enough filling.

And fold over, pressing around the daub of filling to get out
all the air. Seal with a little water if necessary.

I also did a black garlic chocolate budino with raspberry red wine coulis and a crunchy hazelnut biscuit (which was supposed to be a tuile, but I decided to try a new recipe that did not tuile at all). It was pretty transcendental... so transcendental that we gobbled it down before taking pictures. Ditto the pad see ew made two days ago, and the blueberry pie with the best filling I've ever done (red wine, leftover raspberry coulis, and allspice in the filling, as well as a bit of ground tapioca for texture; the tapioca or tapioca flour can be found in the bulk section of your local food coop or, likely, Whole Foods).

And I also made goat cheese gnocchi to use up the aforementioned goat cheese. No pictures; just recipe.

Goat cheese gnocchi

7 oz goat cheese, slightly cooler than room temp
3 egg yolks
125-150 g flour (1 cup ish, if you don't have a scale)
salt and pepper

Cream the goat cheese and egg yolks until thoroughly combined. Gradually add the flour until the dough is tacky but able to be handled; salt and pepper to taste. Do not overwork, or the gnocchi will be dense and tough. Chill for at least 30 minutes, 1 hour preferred.

There are a few techniques for creating the dumplings: rolling little snakes of dough and cutting off snippets, squirting them out of a pastry bag, or rolling them gently between your floured palms. I prefer the third option; I am unable to get fluffy gnocchi with the first technique for some reason, and I hate cleaning pastry bags. Do whichever you prefer. Roll the finished dumplings over a fork to get the classic ridged appearance.

Bring a pot of salted water to a rolling boil. Boil the gnocchi until they float, at which point they should be cooked through but tender to the tooth. Optionally, sear in a buttered pan before serving.

Friday, December 20, 2013

Thursday, December 12, 2013

Bad pictures of tasty things

Not to be redundant, but: interviewing is a very filling process. So why, every time I'm home for 12 to 24 hours*, do I make something complicated rather than abstemiously nibble on field greens? This time around, my excuse is that Andy surprised me with a new metal spatula, zester, and sifter when I got home. A friend of ours also came by with a nifty little blender as a thank-you for caring for her cat**. The upshot is that I had all sorts of fun new toys to play with.



Without a doubt, I can say that this is one of the most delicious things I've ever made. It's shrimp poached in a lemon butter sauce, served over a potato cake and topped with a homemade spicy relish of sorts.



With the exception of the shrimp (which, to be fair, were fancy low-bycatch shrimp), the ingredients are inexpensive and accessible, given a decent olive bar at your local grocery store. The size of the dish, as composed, is also small; this may work better as a substantial appetizer or tapas-type dish than as a true main. In fact, I kind of want to do this as a one-bite appetizer, using a much smaller ring mold to shape the potato cake (and perhaps only one shrimp per).

And now, the award for worst presentation goes to...


Molten chocolate cake is awesome, though. I misunderstood Andy when he said he wanted something that was "the opposite of a big pool of chocolate" and made him, basically, a big pool of chocolate***.

Butter-poached shrimp on potato cake

3-4 baby red potatoes
1/2 lb shrimp, cleaned and shelled with tails left on
4 tbsp butter, divided
1 shallot, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
dash white wine
1 lemon
1-2 tbsp capers
3-4 large Cerignola red olives, chopped
1 large artichoke, chopped either a good jarred variety or from an olive bar, grilled/roasted preferable
chopped parsley
salt, pepper, paprika, cayenne, olive oil

Preheat the oven to 400 F. With a mandoline or very sharp knife, thinly slice the potatoes. Sprinkle salt, pepper, and paprika over a cookie sheet covered in parchment paper. Using a ring mold for shape, if you have one, layer potato rounds in concentric circles until you have rounds of 3-4 potato layers. Generously spray the tops of the rounds with olive oil and salt, pepper, and paprika them again. Bake until the top layer is crispy and browned; the edges may be a little charred, which I think is nice.

If you want to make a fancy sauce, start by clarifying the butter: In a small pan, melt 3 of the 4 tbsp butter. Set aside until the milk solids settle out, then skim off the clear butter floating at the top; this is what you will use. In a fresh pan, add the butter, diced shallot, juice of 1/2 lemon, dash of white wine, and garlic. Cook, whisking, until the shallot is soft, then remove from the heat and whisk in the final tablespoon of butter. If you want to skip the clarifying step, just use all 4 tablespoons and cook everything together.

When the shallots have softened and the sauce is done, cook the shrimp in it until they are just pink on either side. Meanwhile, to make the relish, mix the chopped artichoke, chopped olives, capers, a bit of the butter along with some of the shallots and garlic, and zest from the whole lemon. Add salt, pepper, cayenne, and additional chopped garlic to taste.

To assemble: lay a potato round on a plate and top with a couple shrimp. Grind some pepper and salt on the shrimp (I found I did not need much salt because of the relish and potatoes). On top of that goes some relish with additional butter sauce, lemon juice, or lemon zest as desired. Liberally sprinkle with parsley.

*Yup. Home from Boston, immediately turn around and leave for Philly.
**Which, if you're reading this, is totally unnecessary because he's the best cat in the world and I would spend all day with him if I could. Gratis.
***"I feel so guilty! I wish I'd done a caramel bread pudding like you'd mentioned."
"...you feel guilty for making lavish desserts because they're not precisely to my specifications?"
"I'm a terrible feminist. Deal with it."

Saturday, February 16, 2013

Oops

So yeah, the blog renaissance ended quickly. But I've had so much going on! For instance, glomus tumors had been on my mind for a whole week, and I despaired at never getting the chance to answer a USMLE question on such a minute detail. And then one fine, frigid day, one popped up in a question block! These are the stories of the USMLE Enterprise, ladies and gentlemen. Thrilling adventure! Mind-blowing exploits!

Really, though, it was mostly studying, punctuated by an exciting visit to the ER when Andy's thumb had a run-in with our mandoline and a good amount of junk food*, and not much cooking. Or vegetables. There were a few bright points, though. For instance, I made Japancini, or Japanese arancini, using forbidden rice and adzuki bean puree. The structural integrity of the egg-yolk ones was somewhat lacking, but I discovered that fried egg yolk is delicious! There aren't any pictures because they went straight out of the skillet into Andy's gullet, but here's some cool forbidden rice.


And then the biscuit sandwiches. Oh, buttermilk biscuits. With a few tricks, you are so fluffy and delightful, and then I can put veggie sausages and molded fried eggs on top of you for a deceptively commercial-looking sandwich!





I cannot tell you how delicious these were. Again, though, structural integrity was somewhat lacking. Next time I'm scrambling the eggs to avoid the yolk-soaked bread issue.



Finally, we come to things I actually made today, complete with a recipe for rosemary balsamic glazed almonds. But first, belated Valentine's cupcakes!





The toppers are red velvet cookies with white chocolate hearts.



And then a salad with romano, lemon juice, balsamic-glazed walnuts, and a perfectly poached egg thanks to PoachPods**.





*My mother-in-law sent us a care package containing, among other things, these Brookside dark chocolate pomegranate bites. Because they were from Costco, the bag was enormous. Andy and I polished it off in about two days. It's not candy if there's fruit juice in it, right?
**Andy's mom also sent us these. They're great. I'm extremely skeptical of this sort of $9.99-and-up type of cookware, but man, this is my new favorite space-efficient gadget.

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Baby steps

I did pull-ups today! Plural! In a row! Can the snickering, please; my upper body strength has lagged behind my lower body strength for a very, very long time*, and this wimpy little milestone goes a long way toward rectifying that. Day 1 of 2013 also marked day 1 of the Step 1 studying juggernaut. I'm trying not to obsess over the NRMP match statistics. Medical students are always agonizing over how we measure up to each other. Six weeks of putting one's nose to the paper-and-ink grindstone produces enough stress without embracing the sturm und drang of it all. Instead... white girl vegetarian huevos rancheros!


The Field Roast brand sausages (tee em!) don't taste like sausage as I remember it**, but all three flavors are meaty enough to temporarily quell the inanitiated carnivore within. My favorite is the Italian, by far.



Yesterday, I also made my own version of Larabars. The process is easy if you have a good food processor or food mill. I only have a tiny one, so after grinding the nuts and chocolate, I chopped and pulverized the dried fruit using first a knife, then a big wooden paddle I picked up in Chinatown when I moved here. It's surprisingly meditative to pound away at dried dates.

They're tastier than they look.

Ugly ducklings, maybe, that turn into beautiful swans on the
tongue. (God, that was awful. Forget I typed that.)
I first made something akin to these during my surgery rotation, when I'd eat at 4:30 in the morning and never quite knew when (and if!) I'd have an actual meal break until I got home 15 hours later. A sandwich bag with one or two fits perfectly in the back pocket of a pair of scrubs. At least three cups of sticky dates are necessary to bind the other ingredients, but other than that, go wild with whatever dried fruit you like. They require a little muscle to put together. It's a good thing one batch makes enough bars to last... well, not that long if you're me, but theoretically quite some time!

Quinoa date bars
1/3 cup quinoa (I prefer red, but go wild)
5 cups dried fruit, at least 3 cups of which must be dates
1 cup chopped dark chocolate or cocoa nibs or carob
2 cups raw almonds
3 tablespoons nut butter
pinch salt
1/4 tsp cinnamon (optional)

Rinse the quinoa until the raw grains do not taste bitter at all. Bring to a simmer with 2/3 cup water, then cover and cook on low heat until all the water has been absorbed. Allow to cool. Meanwhile, line a 9 in x 13 in baking pan with parchment paper or waxed paper.

Put the salt, cinnamon, quinoa, almonds, and chocolate into a food processor. Process until the desired texture is reached; you can go until the almonds are ground into quinoa-like texture, or leave a few larger nut pieces for crunch. Empty the food processor into a large bowl. If your processor can handle it, grind the dates and other dried fruit (reserving some chopped dried fruit to add later, again for texture, if you desire) and nut butter until a paste is formed. Mix with the almond mixture and grind in the food processor until homogenous, stirring in any reserved pieces at the end. If your food processor cannot handle it, oil a knife blade and your hands and chop the dates as finely as you can. Using a big wooden spoon, paddle, or mortar, pound the dates and dried fruit with the nut butter and almond mixture in a large bowl until everything clumps together in sort of a chunky paste. Put the mixture into the lined pan and spread evenly. Cover with parchment or plastic wrap and pile heavy books on top (or other pans full of heavy books!) to compress the bars. Allow to compress for at least 1.5 hours. Refrigerate for at least 2 hours, then slice. Store in an airtight container in the fridge for best shelf life, but they can sit at room temperature throughout the day (or body temperature in the back pocket of your scrubs).

*Until today, I could deadlift 1.6 times my body weight without being able to pull up my body weight. Pathetic, right?
**although it has been quite a long time...

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Hippy dippy

A quick perusal of the past two weeks of blog confirms that, yes, I forgot to mention that my rather fabulous PI from this past summer took me and my research compatriot to dinner at Tom Colicchio's Riverpark as a summer wrap-up. It's fun to walk past a grubby stretch of First Avenue into a charming, elegant dining room, and needless to say, the food was delightful. I had mushroom consommé (while coveting the oxtail), creamy and perfectly balanced mascarpone ravioli (while coveting the duck), and a black forest sundae that included these amazing brandy-soaked cherries (while coveting absolutely nothing else, because I was too busy devouring chocolately lushness). Aside from the unlikely location, there's another lagniappe to the restaurant: its oh-so-virtuous "backyard" garden right behind the Alexandria Center. Today, after doing a little work in the mouse room*, my PI and I had coffee at the newly de-walled garden, and I took some pictures:



There were three varieties of eggplant.
Teeny baby kale!
The adorable little kale reminded me that I have been meaning to try this recipe for "hippie hot pockets," a.k.a. empanadas stuffed with leafy greens.

The crust looks better than this in person.
Kale and arugula caprese-esque filling
And as long as I was baking with olive oil, some coffee olive oil brownies were in order.

Caffeeeeeeeine....

Hey, NYUSoM second-years: Which cranial nerves allowed me to enjoy the taste of my brownies and empanadas?

Hippie Hot Pockets, adapted from Feasting Freds
Olive oil crust
1 cup all-purpose flour
2/3 cup whole-wheat flour
1/3 cup cornmeal
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 cup very warm water
3/4 cup olive oil

Stir together the flours, cornmeal, and salt. Add the olive oil and warm water all at once and mix with a fork or your hands until it comes together in a ball. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes and bake as needed.

Arugula and kale filling
10 cups raw arugula/kale
1/2 onion
2 cloves garlic
2 plum tomatoes
1/2 cup mozzarella
1/4 cup chopped parsley
1/4 cup loosely packed fresh basil
1 tsp red pepper flakes
2 tbsp capers
1 egg, beaten

Cook according to the directions in the linked recipe!

Olive oil cocoa brownies with a crunchy caffeine surprise
2 eggs
1 tbsp water
1/2 cup light brown sugar
3/4 cup white sugar
1/2 cup dark cocoa powder
1 1/2 cups flour
1 tsp salt
1/4 cup coffee beans
1/2 cup olive oil

Beat together eggs and water. Slowly add sugar, beating until the mixture is thick. Very, very slowly add olive oil, beating all the while. Gently fold in dry ingredients and coffee beans. Bake at 325 for 25 to 30 minutes or until just moist in the center.

*Once again, I've concluded that mice are evil. While it was interesting to be able to examine a mouse spine and ribcage, the way I imagined doing so did not involve a juvenile female whose brothers had ripped out her throat and upper chest and eaten out her lungs.

Thursday, July 28, 2011

It's easy not being green.

The perennial glut of late-summer zucchini has led to a perennial glut of "THIS IS HOW TO SNEAK ZUCCHINI INTO TASTY CHOCOLATE THINGS" recipes.

Let it be known that these brownies do not contain vegetables. They contain browned butter, cocoa, chocolate, caramel, pecans, and other delicious and distinctly unvitaminiferous components.

Zucchini, you have your place, but not in this dessert, thank you very much. I'll take my brownie decadence unadulterated by pretensions of healthfulness*.

Speaking of green... Andrew Bird finds it easy to be green!

*Appending "and healthy, too!" to a brownie or cake recipe just because it happens to contain a vegetable or whole-wheat flour or oil instead of butter annoys me to no end. Guess what? If your dessert contains one or more of the following, which all the recipes invariably do, it's not exactly part of a balanced meal: sugar, refined flour, and most lipids, including but not limited to butter, canola oil, and full-fat yogurt.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Whey to go!

I am making a second foray into the world of homemade cheese! Deb of Smitten Kitchen posted this recipe for creamy ricotta, and of course I had to give it a shot. Heavy cream? Yes, please, as much as possible.


I used some of the whey (which apparently sometimes goes by the much more X-Men-worthy name of MILK PLASMA) to make a portion of no-knead bread; replacing the liquid in any bread recipe with whey gives you a tangy, sourdough-esque dough with a hit of protein even without bread flour. Andy* took a bite of ricotta-slathered bread and started making a sound something like this. I guess it's good.



Other components of my welcome-home spread included:

Caramelized onion (to go on top of bread and cheese)
Roasted red peppers with a garlic caper marinade (to go on top
of bread and chee
se, and oh, by the way, guess who likes capers
after all? Hint: It 
starts with "A" and ends with "tkins."
Green bean and almond salad (not to top bread and cheese)



And brownies with a squishy caramel layer inside. For a concoction that is basically the platonic ideal of dessert, these are surprisingly easy. Make a recipe of your favorite caramel sauce** (not difficult, but I always have sour cream left over after I do it, because my favorite caramel sauce uses sour cream to tangy effect) and a recipe of your favorite brownie batter***. Spread about half the batter in the pan, then top liberally with caramel sauce. Pour the rest of the batter on top and either spread it to cover the caramel or swirl the layers together. Protip: avoid letting the caramel sauce touch the edges of the pan, because it will scorch.



*Andy lives here now! For real! As of, like, five hours ago!
**Or buy some.
***It hurts me to say this, but fine, I'll begrudgingly admit that you could buy a box of brownie mix. Ghirardelli's is rather fantastic.