Friday, October 14, 2016

Chicken Tenders: delicious dredge-ery

I remember the first time I made honey-mustard.  I was at my grandmother's, and we were cooking a ham.  My uncle wanted honey mustard for a glaze, and let me help him make it.  We kept adding more and more mustard (a condiment I didn't care for at the time), and he kept tasting it and saying it wasn't tangy enough, that he really wanted a kick of mustard.  It's a really cool memory, and one of sadly few.

I totally get it now; I love that mustard tang, and how it pops out of the sweetness of the honey.  In a complete change of roles, my husband isn't a fan of mustard, so I now find no sympathy toward my desire for that flavor.  Every once in a while, though, I can get him to eat it.

Honey Mustard Chicken Tenders
9 chicken tenders (or breasts cut into strips)

Flour Dredge:
1/2 C Flour
1 Tbsp Salt
1 Tbsp Pepper

Egg Dredge:
2 eggs
2 Tbsp mustard
1 1/2 tsp honey
a few dashes of your preferred Hot Sauce (we like Frank's)
pinch salt 
pinch pepper

Crumb Dredge:
1/2 C Plain Breadcrumbs
2 tsp Onion Powder
pinch Paprika
pinch Salt
pinch Pepper

Don't be like me.  Begin by preheating your oven to 375˚F, rather than forgetting and then standing there wishing it would get hotter faster.

In shallow dishes (such as pie pans or plates), combine the ingredients for each dredge, mixing them thoroughly with a fork.  If the egg mixture is too thick, it can be thinned with water; I found the mustard thinned it a lot more than I would have expected.  Pour a thin layer of oil onto a baking pan, and pop it into the oven to pre-heat, and grab a tray or plate.  Organize your workspace into a sequential flow: chicken tenders, flour, egg, crumbs, holding tray.  This will make things easier.

Use a paper towel to pat excess moisture off the chicken; it doesn't need to be dripping chicken juice.  Place a tender in the flour mixture and turn it a few times to coat it with flour.  Transfer it to the egg mixture and turn it a couple times so the egg mix sticks.  Finally, place it in the crumbs and give it a few turns to completely coat it with crumbs, then transfer it to the tray.  Repeat with each tender.

When you've got all the tenders ready, pull out the baking pan from the oven and place the tenders on it.  Bake about 5 minutes, then turn them over and bake an additional 5 minutes or so until they are cooked through.  (Test with a thermometer, or pick the thickest looking one and cut into it.)  Transfer onto a plate lined with paper towels to drain off excess oil.

Serve with--what else?--honey-mustard!









Tuesday, July 12, 2016

A Corny take on Carbonara

Nebraska is known as the Cornhusker State.  We call our beloved football team the Huskers.  We grow a lot of corn-- 1,365,350,000 bushels in 2015, according to Nebraska Agriculture Statistics.  Now, to be sure, most of this corn is feed corn for cows not people.  But there is little to beat fresh sweet corn grown in this great state.  It's unbelievably fresh; folks pick it on their farms then sell it off the backs of their trucks.  Generally, I think eating it off the cob is the best way to go, but the following recipe is a different sort of preparation, in case you're getting tired (is that possible?) of whole-kernel corn.  Bonus: when you cut the corn off the cob, you can then use the cobs for corncob jelly.  

Fettuccine with Corn Carbonara (adapted from Tim Maslow's recipe in Food & Wine)
7 ears corn
1 lb spaghetti
1/4 lb thick-cut bacon
2 shallots
2 garlic cloves
1 tbsp lemon juice
salt & pepper

Begin by prepping everything: husk the corn and cut the kernels off the cob.  Scrape the remaining corn bits off the cob, add them to the kernels, and puree the lot.  Dice the bacon and shallots, and mince the garlic cloves.  Cook the pasta according to package instructions.  Reserve 2 C of the pasta water before you drain it off.

In a large saucepan, render the bacon over medium heat (It'll take about 7 minutes.)  Add the shallots and garlic, and cook until softened.  Add the spaghetti, corn puree, 1 1/4 C of pasta water, and lemon juice.  Continue to cook over medium heat until the sauce thickens and takes on a creamy texture.  Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Note: The photos here show a half recipe; a full recipe wouldn't fit in our Magic Bullet.

Carbonara usually is made with eggs and cheese; this corn-based version, though, is remarkably satisfying.  It's surprisingly rich and very creamy, and the sauce clings to the pasta just the way I would expect an authentic carbonara to.  I wouldn't have recognized it as corn, except that I had made it myself, and there were a few bits of corn kernel casing in it.  The corn bits can be strained out before the puree is added to the pan.  I lack the patience to strain something that thick; you have to constantly move it around your sieve and press it through a little bit, and if you only have a small sieve, you have to periodically clean it out.  Alternately, it might be less trying for one's patience to use cheesecloth rather than a sieve, because then you can squeeze the bejabbers out of the puree and force it through faster.  Either way, it's not essential, but it makes the dish that much more finished.

Final verdict: super-yummy.  I'd recommend corn "carbonara" to anyone who enjoys pasta; my husband and I both greatly enjoyed this dish.  As summer approaches, I'm looking forward to making it again.  





Sunday, May 29, 2016

Som s beloy fasolyu: Catfish as served in Russia

My family has hosted exchange students for as long as I can remember.  It was great, because we weren't really able to travel ourselves, but we were able to, through hosting, bring the world to our home.  A couple years ago (gosh, it's already been about 3 years since she left!), we hosted a student from Russia.  We got along pretty well, even before she arrived.  We exchanged emails and talked about what we enjoyed.  And she apparently took notes, because she arrived with a tea set and a cookbook--Culinaria Russia--for me, both of which were a bit of a trick.  I'm not sure how to pack a set of porcelain so that it can survive baggage handlers at 4 or 5 airports.  And the cookbook was the envy of all the other exchange students; they'd sought such an item in vain.  Something about Russians don't need recipes for local food in a foreign language.  Go figure.

But anyway, the cookbook is great.  It's divided into regions (some of which are only historically part of Russia), and then within each of those regions, there is discussion of the local food and the customs associated with it.  It's partly a cookbook, but also a scholarly exploration of the people and places behind the cooking.  Fan-tastic!

The following is a slight alteration of recipe from the Russia portion of the book, for catfish with white beans.

Som s beloy fasolyu
1 C dried white beans
salt
2 catfish fillets
1 onion
1 celery stalk
1 carrot
1 garlic clove
1/2 Tbsp butter
1/2 Tbsp oil
pepper
crusty bread

Soak the beans overnight, drain, then cook in salted, boiling water until tender.  (This will take some time, plan on it taking all afternoon; if they are cooked too soon, it's Ok, just drain them and set them aside until you need them.)

Cut the onion in half, and place one half in a pan with the catfish.  Roughly chop or break into pieces the celery and carrot, and add those to the pan.  Cover everything with water, add a bit of salt to taste, and bring to a gentle boil.  Simmer until the veggies have softened and the fish has fully cooked.  Remove the fish from the resultant broth, cut into pieces and set it aside.

Dice the other half of the onion and mince the garlic.  Over medium-high heat, melt the butter with the oil, and sauté the onion and garlic.  Take a small handful of the beans (about 3 Tbsp), smash them, and add them to the onion and garlic.  (Really, you can add the beans and then smash them.)  Gently fold in the fish pieces and remaining beans.  Season to taste with salt and pepper, and serve over toasted slices of good bread.

I've omitted from the original recipe some fresh parsley and parsley root, because I wasn't able to find those at the grocery store (I've never seen parsley root, and they were out of parsley sprigs.)  I've also heavily scaled down on everything but the beans.  This recipe fed myself and my husband with enough left over that I got two more lunches out of it.  Depending on the appetites of who you're serving, then, the recipe above serves 3 or 4 people.

I've always eaten catfish battered and fried and paired with something zingy or tangy to balance that muddy flavor they have.  This recipe (clearly) is different.   I really liked it.  Yes, you can still taste where the catfish was living, but the other flavors balance it out nicely rather than covering it up.  I was surprised how delicious I found it, especially given how few ingredients I seemed to have used.  Ultimately, I was only eating beans, fish, onion, and garlic, but it was rich and tasty, like comfort food without the guilt.

So thanks, Nan!  I have always loved the cookbook, and I think this recipe is fabulous.  I bet you'd just about die laughing at me trying to pronounce the Russian name.  



Tuesday, May 3, 2016

In a (strawberry) jam



Spring is coming upon us, and it's got me all excited about gardening, farmers' markets, and canning.  In keeping with that spirit, I'm looking back at last summer and the canning I wound up doing.  My mother-in-law, at that time, was working at Edible Arrangements, and they had a glut of super-ripe strawberries.  The problem for them, though, is that super-ripe is actually too ripe.  They need fruit that will keep for a couple days while they prep it, and a couple more after that while the customer snacks on the arrangement.  These strawberries were so ripe they had little more than a day before they spoiled.  Their store had a thing set up where they donated over-ripe fruit to the zoo (fruit bats gotta eat!), but they had so many strawberries the zoo couldn't even take them all.  And so my mother-in-law brought them home, we froze them temporarily, and then we canned them.  We canned A TON of strawberry jam/preserves using the following recipe, from Canning for a New Generation, a delightful book that I had found at my local library.  I loved it so much I bought myself a copy, and I highly recommend it to anyone interested in canning-- it's good for novices, but full of recipes with unique twists, so even someone with more experience might find something new to try.




Strawberry Preserves (by Liana Krissoff)
3 lbs Strawberries
1 1/2 C Sugar
3 Tbsp lemon juice

Combine the strawberries and sugar overnight in a bowl to pull juice out of the berries.  If you've frozen the strawberries temporarily, you can skip this step, because the freezing will have lysed the cells and released the juices anyway.

Place the strawberries in a pan or stock pot, and bring to a simmer for about five minutes.  Pour everything into a colander to separate berries from juice.  Boil the juice  over high heat for about 15 minutes.  Return the berries to the juice, and add the lemon juice.  Simmer and stir for about 20 minutes.  Skim off foam, and place the resultant preserves in prepared half-pint jars*, leaving 1/4 inch headspace.  Process in boiling water for 5 minutes.

*Prepare jars by boiling while you're making the preserves.  Be sure to dip the lids in boiling water and clean the jar rims before processing as well. For the record, the jars in the photo at left are not half-pints.  They're 4-oz jars that make great gifts.



Now, preserves like this are frequently made with large bits of strawberries.  We used smaller bits of strawberries, thinking to make it more jam-like.  It worked to a point, but I reckon next time I'll partially puree some of the preserves as a further step toward the texture I'm looking for.  Want to kick the flavor up a notch?  Try adding a vanilla bean!  You can do this without throwing off the ratios necessary for proper preserving.  And if you have more jam than fits in your jars, pour it off into a bowl, let it set, and enjoy it right away.













Tuesday, April 26, 2016

Roulade

When I hear the word, "roulade," I instantly think of Kohlrouladen.  I'm a bit ashamed to admit it, but I am just not a fun of Kohlrouladen.  It's basically a German cabbage roll.  I'm not a huge fan of cooked cabbage (although I appreciate it as an ingredient), and I'm not wild about the seasoning that my family used when preparing the meat mixture to go in it.  (Seasonings I assume are very traditional).  but really, roulade refers to a range of rolled-up foods, including Kohlrouladen, but also things like jelly roll cakes and meats wrapped around fillings.  I'm a fan of the latter, which can include chicken cordon bleu, a perennial favorite.  It is also, as they demonstrated on Worst Cooks in America, a great "canvas" for trying flavor combinations.  Thus, when I was faced with "something chicken" on our menu, I decided to throw together one of my own.  Enjoy this chicken roulade (serves 2), with just a hint of sweetness.

Almond-Cranberry Chicken Roulade
1 chicken breast

Rub:
     1 tsp salt
     1/2 tsp pepper
     pinch* ground chipotle pepper
     pinch sage
     pinch onion powder
     pinch parsley
     dash* thyme

Filling:
     1/3 C coarsely chopped almonds (see technique notes at the bottom)
     1/4 C dried cranberries, chopped
     1 pinch sesame seeds
     1 C cooked rice (any type-- I used leftovers from a different meal)

Sauce:
      1 Tbsp butter
      1 Tbsp flour
      1 C milk
      pinch* sage
      salt and pepper to taste

*Because these are super technical terms, I'll clarify: to me, a pinch is roughly double a dash.  I give my shaker a few flings for a pinch--or reach in and pinch a decent amount with two fingers (and my thumb).  For a dash, I tip a pretty minimal amount from the shaker into the mix.

Begin by preheating your oven to 350˚F.   Meanwhile, pound the chicken breast to a flat 1/3ish-inch thick.  (See below for technique notes.)  Tip: place the chicken breast between layers of waxed paper and plastic wrap to keep chicken juices from getting all over the place.

Combine the rub ingredients in a small dish and sprinkle over both sides of the chicken breast.  While you're doing this, make sure the prettier side is down.

Combine the filling ingredients in a small mixing bowl, then place it along the middle of the chicken breast.  Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.  Wrap the chicken around the filling, then place it on the prepared baking sheet, seam side down.  Bake 20-30 minutes until done. The chicken will not brown much at this temperature, and the filling can sometimes make it difficult to place a thermometer, so I find the best way to test it is to make a small cut in the chicken near the center of the roulade to see if it has cooked all the way through or not.  It'll be Ok.

While that's in the oven, make a sauce!  Start with a roux-- melt the butter, stir in the flour, and let it brown for about a minute (this is so hard for me; I'm impatient).  While stirring, gradually add the milk  If you don't like the consistency, adjust: add more milk to make it thinner, add a precombined mixture of milk and flour (a slurry) to thicken it.  Add sage for flavor, and season to taste with salt and pepper.  Add some worchestershire sauce if you want a little more umami (meaty) flavor, but be careful-- a little bit can go a long way, and the delicate creaminess of this sauce actually pairs nicely with the nutty/sweet chicken.

Slice the chicken and serve it with sauce alongside a vegetable of your choice.

Technique notes:

Chopping almonds: You can get chopped almonds.  But it's better to chop them yourself, for flavor as well as for control over texture.  You can chop them as finely or coarsely as you like if you do it yourself.  That said, it can be a pain in the rear trying to chop them yourself.  You can give them a couple quick pulses in a food processor (quick-- you don't want to end up with flour!), or you can get what my sister calls a "whopper-chopper," probably most commonly recognized as a "slap-chop".  I have the Pampered Chef version.  When I was younger I would use it for chopping onions, because it saved me a lot of tears.  I have since improved my onion-chopping skills, which renders it no longer necessary for that.  However, I think it is absolutely the best tool for chopping nuts.  They're contained by the device, so they don't fly around or roll off your cutting board, and you can easily see (and control) how finely you've chopped things.  I do not, however, recommend it for chopping cranberries. Any kind of dried fruit just gums up the blade, and things stick and don't get cut, and it's a pain to clean off.  Just use a knife for the cranberries.

Pounding the chicken:  If you have a meat mallet, use it (a flat side).  If you don't have a meat mallet, don't despair.  I don't have one, either.  When I lived at home, I think I used one of my dad's mallets (he does woodworking and landscaping and other things that require using a mallet on occasion.)  This is not the best solution, because things form the garage are not necessarily things you want around your food.  A better option would be to use a rolling pin (if you have a wooden one, be sure to use layers of waxed paper and plastic wrap).  The drawback to a rolling pin, though, is that they aren't really meant for whacking away at things, and I'm always afraid I'll break the center rod.  It depends on your rolling pin, really, but it's not a chance I really like to take.  The best alternative, in my opinion, is a heavy-bottomed skillet.  I favor a smallish omelet pan, because then I have a little more control over where I'm hitting.  I know the handle to my pan is well-attached, and I could see right away if that were to change.  

Thoughts on the recipe:

I feel like I knocked this one out of the park.  The flavors went extremely well together.  Earthiness (sage), sweetness with a hint of tartness (cranberry), nuttiness (we used a fairly nutty-flavored rice, plus the almonds), and creaminess…  It was very well-balanced.  The roulade technique also makes it very pretty on the plate, don't you think?  

The only thing I would like to do differently is brown the chicken a little more.  It just looks more appetizing that way.  There are a couple ways to do this.  I could sear it before baking, but I worry about the filling falling out.  I could also try finishing it under the broiler after baking it.  The trick with that method is that the chicken might dry out and toughen.  I think basting the chicken before broiling might help, as well as applying a bit of butter (perhaps seasoned butter?).  If I try either of those, I'll be sure to post an update.  But that's really more a visual thing.  I would say this is a good recipe to use as-is.  











Friday, April 1, 2016

Hey, Stud Muffin

While I was working on my undergrad, someone mentioned The Bread Bible to me, more or less offhandedly.  I followed up by checking it out of my local library first chance I got.  My sister and I made crumpets right away.  I didn't have another chance to make something from it for a while, when I finally decided it was time to try the "Stud Muffin" recipe.  It was a little tricky, because you need a soufflé dish, which I did not (and do not) have.  So I did the best I could and made my casserole work, because as far as I can tell, a soufflé dish is just a taller casserole.  But I'm getting a bit ahead of myself.  Here's the recipe, from Rose Levy Beranbaum,  the apparent queen of baking.  I give only the measurements that I used, which are an inconsistent mix based on convenience and almost certain to give professional bakers blood pressure issues; in her book, she gives measurements in volume, grams, and ounces, so you can use what you're comfortable with.

Stud Muffin, from The Bread Bible
Starter:
156 g unbleached flour 
3/4 tsp instant yeast
3/4 C room temperature water

Dough:
2 oz. Parmigiano-Reggiano
2 oz. Romano
343 g unbleached flour, with a skimpy 1/4 C reserved
1 1/4 tsp instant yeast
1 tsp salt
1 1/2 tsp pepper
56 g unsalted butter, softened
1/2 C room temperature water
1 large egg, room temperature
2.5 oz Gruyère, cut into 1/4-inch dice

Begin by combining the starter ingredients in a mixing bowl, and whisking like crazy to incorporate air.  After about 2 minutes, it should be smooth and have a thick batter consistency.  Scrape down the sides of the bowl, then cover it tightly with plastic wrap and allow it to stand 1-4 hours at room temperature.

After allowing your starter to develop, grate the Parmigiano-Reggiano and Romano cheeses.  In a small liquid measuring cup, whisk together the water and egg.  In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour that is not reserved, the yeast, salt, and black pepper.  Sprinkle the flour mixture over the starter, then add the softened butter and mix on low speed with a dough hook. (I don't have one, so this was something I had to do by hand.)  As you do so, gradually add the water/egg mixture until the flour is moistened.  Add the cheeses, and raise the speed to medium (Knead vigorously in the bowl), for 5 minutes until the dough is elastic and springy, yet slightly sticky.  If it doesn't pull away from the bowl, it's too sticky, and you need to add some of the reserved flour, a spoonful at a time.  Sprinkle flour over your workspace, and dump the flour onto it.  Spread it into a rough rectangle, and sprinkle about half a cup of the Gruyère cheese into the dough.  Roll it up like a cinnamon roll, then knead it.  This all serves to incorporate the cheese as evenly as possible.

Lightly grease a 2-quart bowl and place the dough in it to rise.  Push the dough down slightly and grease the tops, then cover the bowl with a lid or plastic wrap.  Put the bowl in the refrigerator and let it chill for at least 8 hours of two days to firm up and develop flavor.  Pat it down a couple times during the first hour or so, until it becomes cold and stops rising.  (I know, this is somewhat counterintuitive.  What you're doing is letting flavor develop; if you let it rise the whole time, your yeast population would grow too much and die off.)

After the dough has chilled for a good while, dump it out and knead it lightly.  Form the dough into a ball.  Grease the heck out of your soufflé dish (or use a coffee can-- with neither of these vessels, I was forced to use my casserole dish, which was a bit too short to be ideal.) and push the dough down into it; it should be about half full.  Cover it lightly with wax paper and let it rise in a warm area until it almost triples, about 3-4 hours.

Meanwhile, line a baking sheet with foil, and place it on the lowest shelf in your oven.  Preheat the oven to 350˚F about 45 minutes before baking.

After the dough has risen, brush the surface of the bread with a lightly beaten egg, being carful not to let the egg touch the dish (which will seal in the dough and prevent proper rising).  Gently push the remaining Gruyère into dough.

Place the dish on the hot baking sheet.  Bake 45-50 minutes, until the bread is golden and a skewer can be inserted and come out clean.  Remove the dish from the oven and let it cool on a rack for 30 minutes.  Use a knife to gently loosen the bread from the sides of the container.  Put plastic wrap over a cushion or folded towel, and gently dump the bread onto it.  (It's supposed to be delicate.)  Keep it laying on its side, and allow the bread to finish cooling, about an hour.  Then you can finally tuck in and enjoy it!

Ok, as I said, I had to improvise and use my casserole dish.  I decided this was a reasonable substitution after checking the dimensions of soufflé dishes online.  My casserole dish was shorter and wider than a soufflé dish would be, so it wasn't the best stand-in.  Yes, I was able to enjoy a cheesy bread with the delightful name, "Stud Muffin," which was what I really wanted.  However, the texture was denser than I reckon it ought to have been, because I was unable to let the dough triple.  After only doubling, it had already filled my baking dish completely, so I had to stop and bake it off.  That's not to say it was super-dense.  It just wasn't light and airy; it was a more or less standard bread texture.  I also didn't need to let it rest on its side.  In addition to the extra density, it was wider than it was tall.

But it was a delicious, moist bread, and the bits of cheese were like little gems of salty, cheesy goodness.  We ate it alongside soup and salad, with steaks, and by itself.  I loved just helping myself to a heart slice as a quick snack or a tasty breakfast.  



Monday, March 28, 2016

New-York-Style Pumpkin Cheesecake

I love pumpkin.  It's fantastic.  And it's one of the few fruits/vegetables that we still view as seasonal.  I always get so excited for pumpkin season that I go overboard (just a little) and buy more than I'll eat right away.  Lucky me, pumpkin puree freezes well.  I wind up with a freezer full of pumpkin that I can use to satisfy pumpkin cravings out of season.  I came up with this recipe about this time last year as a way of doing just that.  I liked the idea of a pumpkin cheesecake, but all the recipes I found were, for lack of a better term, normal cheesecakes.  I grew up eating New York-style, with that delicious top layer.  (And I'm sure someone out there will read over this recipe and argue that even my recipe is not authentically New York-style.  To this person I say, "let's get bagels.")  The top layer has always been my favorite part of the cake, so I knew I had to include it in this recipe.  It's a little bit of a pain, because you need to use two different baking temperatures, but it is so worth it.

New York-Style Pumpkin Cheesecake
Crust:
1 1/2 C gingersnap crumbs
2 T sugar
pinch salt
1/2 C butter, melted

Cake:
2 blocks (16 oz total) cream cheese
3/4 C sugar
3 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
2 Tbsp flour
2 C pumpkin puree
1/4 tsp cinnamon*
1/4 tsp ginger*
1/4 tsp allspice*
pinch clove*
*or substitute 1 tsp pumpkin spice if you'd rather

Topping:
1 C cream cheese
2 Tbsp sugar
1 tsp vanilla
pinch each of cinnamon, ginger, and allspice (or 1/4 tsp pumpkin spice)

Crust:
Combine the gingersnap crumbs, sugar, and salt, then add the butter.  Press the resultant mixture into the bottom of a springform pan.  Add more butter if necessary to achieve a cohesive mix.

Cake:
In a mixing bowl, combine 2 blocks of cream cheese, sugar, 2 eggs, and vanilla.  Beat 15 minutes (yes, all 15 minutes…  this is where I wish, every single time, that I had a stand-alone mixer).  Add in pumpkin puree, flour, remaining egg, and spices, and beat a few minutes more, until thoroughly combined.  Pour over crust, and bake at 375˚F for 40 minutes.

Topping:
Mix together topping ingredients, and pour over the cake.  Bake 5 minutes at 400˚F, until set.  To test done-ness, use a butter knife or a metal cake tester, NOT a toothpick.  (I received a cake tester from my mother-in-law, and I thought it was silly at the time.  It is now one of my favorite utensils.)

Chill the cake before serving.

I'll be honest, I was thrilled and surprised when this worked out as well as it did.  With the recipe being as finicky as it is (15 minutes), I wasn't sure how it would handle the pumpkin, or if there would be too much moisture.  But it turned out delicious, well-textured, and fit well into my springform.  The topping may need a little adjustment.  Maple or something, so that the spices blend a little better with the sour cream.  Maybe a dash of spiced rum instead of vanilla.  I'm not totally sure.  It's not an urgent need; the recipe still works deliciously without it.  I shared it with my bell choir, and everyone loved it, in spite of it being out of season.  

When pumpkin comes back in season, I'll try and make this again, with some adjustment to the topping.  Look for an update then.  For now, enjoy it as-is.