French Scotch Egg

Don't you love when you find something delightful and unexpected at the grocery store?  I stumbled across some ground free-raised veal at a really good price, and decided I had to give it a try.  I know a lot of people have problems with veal, and I also have some reservations, but free-raised calves are able to enjoy a normal life before their slaughter, which what is important to me.  Bonus: the meat from happy healthy babies is typically leaner.  The only problem with impulse-buying ethical veal is that I don't have very many veal recipes because I so seldom come across veal I would buy.  And ground veal further complicated it.  I found a lot of meatball recipes that called for a blend of veal and some other meat, but it was such a bummer to come across such a rare find and then blend it to make something more or less ordinary.  Then I found "croquettes de veau surprise" in Cooking in a Castle: La Cuisine dans un Château (written/compiled by William I. Kaufman, published by Bonanza Books, 1965).  For people (like me) who don't really speak French, that would be veal croquette surprise.  As I was running it past my husband, he looked at me and said, "Oh, it's a Scotch egg." So apparently the French enjoy it, but the Scots made it famous.  Maybe?  Either way:

Croquettes de Veau Surprise

6 eggs, hard-boiled

melted butter

dash cayenne
1 Tbsp finely chopped chives
6 pitted ripe olives
4 Tbsp butter
4 Tbsp flour
3/4 veal stock
Ground (or fresh-grated if you have it) nutmeg (to taste)
Ground thyme (to taste)
1 1/2 C minced cooked veal
1 tsp grated (or finely chopped) onion
1 tsp minced parsley
1 C dry breadcrumbs
1/4 C grated cheddar cheese
2 eggs, beaten

Halve the eggs the long way, and scoop out the yolks.  Mash the yolks with melted butter to make a paste.  Season to taste with cayenne and blend in chives.  Stuff the olives with the yolk mixture, then place them inside the egg halves.  Stuff the egg halves with the yolk mixture, too, and stick the eggs back together.

Make a roux of the butter and flour, then gradually add the veal stock, stirring so the mixture remains thick.  Season to taste with salt, pepper, nutmeg, and thyme.  Remove from heat, and add the veal, onion, and parsley.  Spread out in a wide dish and chill until firm.  (Spreading it out isn't strictly necessary, but gives it more surface area for the heat to escape from, decreasing the cooling time.)  Once firm, divide into 6 portions, and mold a portion around each egg.

Combine breadcrumbs and grated cheddar.  One at a time, roll the coated eggs in the breadcrumb mixture, dip them in the beaten eggs, and re-roll them in the breadcrumb mixture.

Deep-fry at 390˚F for 2 minutes until lightly browned.  Serve immediately, garnished with parsley if desired.

The trick to this recipe is timing.  Hard-boil the eggs a day before, or first thing in the morning, to make your life easier.  The recipe is arranged conceptually, form the inside to the outside, which is ultimately how you have to build it.  However, due to chill times, it actually makes sense to make up the veal and roux mixture before you start halving and stuffing eggs.  And be sure to leave yourself time to preheat the oil for frying, especially if you (like me) don't have a fryer, and have to carefully heat, take temperature, and adjust.  And although they're best fresh out of the oil (like everything fried), they'll be fine if you need to do them up one at a time, and hold them to serve.  Just try to keep them warm and covered, and place them on paper so the oil can drain off a bit.

These are filling-- the recipe suggests two per serving, but I think I only ate one.  Luckily, they actually save decently.  They're flavorful and fun, too, and the way they're constructed gives them wonderful textures.  The roux softens again during the heat, and the breadcrumbs become crispy, so you bite into crispness, then tenderness, and finally a firm egg.  My husband thought they were fantastic.  I think he ate most of the leftover eggs.

Chicken Skin Tacos

This is another recipe from The New York Times.  They ran an article a few years ago about chicken skin gaining popularity as an ingredient, and this was one of the accompanying recipes.  I was so excited to try it, so here follows my paraphrase, with thoughts afterward.

Chicken Skin Tacos (Adapted from Nate Gutierrez)
1 pinch of each of the following: 
      kosher salt
      coarsely ground black pepper
      ground cumin
      granulated garlic
      onion powder
      oregano
2 skin-on chicken breasts
Corn or flour tortillas
Shredded cheese, salsa, sour cream, romaine, cilantro, onion, and lime, if desired/as garnish

Heat oven to 375˚F.  Combine spices in a small bowl, and rub onto chicken.  Roast until skin is crisp and muscle is cooked through, about 30 minutes.  Remove from oven and cool.  Pull skin from chicken and slice into strips.  Shred the breast.  Further crisp the skin in a heavy-bottomed pan per medium-high heat (about 3 minutes).

Fill tortillas with shredded chicken, top with desired garnishes and chicken skin.


I was disappointed.  I wanted more chicken skin and less traditional chicken meat from this recipe.  When it's called a "chicken skin taco," I expect the chicken skin to be the main ingredient (that's how it works when I buy [normal] chicken, beef, or chorizo taco).  As it is, the chicken skin is a garnish, and I don't know that it's the kind of garnish I want for a taco-- I want the lime and cilantro to add some freshness, or the cheese and sour cream to add some richness.  I don't need a crispy garnish.  

And while on the topic of garnishes, I recommend sticking with the fresh and more traditional garnishes, the lime and cilantro, because this is a more traditional taco.  Notice the recipe doesn't make any kind of sauce.  (You'll see cheese in my photo, though, because I love cheese.)

"Mary Jane's Egg Casserole"

I have no idea who the casserole was named after.  We joked that it was named after one of the members of our bell choir, and she rolled her eyes at us for being nutty.

Actually, the identity of Mary Jane might have been discussed in the New York Times article that I clipped the recipe from, but I've long since gotten rid of the whole article; I couldn't even tell you the title of it.  I think it was about some lovely people who were raising chickens.  But I do like a good casserole, and so I kept this recipe.  The neat thing about it, as opposed to other egg casseroles I've come across (and eaten), is that it uses hard-boiled eggs rather than baking raw eggs.  Here's the recipe, halved from the original, and with a few tweaks.

Mary Jane's Egg Casserole
9 eggs
1/2 lb bacon
2 Tbsp butter (or bacon fat)
2 Tbsp flour
1/2 C cream
1/2 C milk
1 C shredded cheese, packed
2 Tbsp C chopped parsley
large pinch dried marjoram
large pinch thyme
small pinch garlic powder
2-3 shakes red pepper flakes

Begin by hard-boiling the eggs.  Your fingers will thank you if you do this far enough in advance that the eggs are cool by the time you're constructing the casserole.

Preheat your oven to 350˚F.

Crisp up the bacon.  I always save my bacon fat, because I use it to grease up pans.  If you get enough fat, you can use it in place of the butter in the next step: make a roux by melting the butter in a small saucepan, then add the flour.  Stir to combine, and let brown very slightly.  Combine the milk and cream in a small bowl, glass, or measuring cup.  Gradually add that to the roux, stirring or whisking thoroughly to avoid lumps.  After adding all the milk/cream mixture, continue to heat until steaming and hot throughout.  Add cheese and stir until melted.  Add remaining ingredients.

Grease a 7x11-inch pan.  Peel the eggs, slice them thinly, and crumble up the bacon.  Layer egg slices, bacon crumbles, and cheese sauce, repeating until all ingredients are used up or you are out of sauce.  Cover the pan with foil, and bake for 40 minutes.  Let rest before serving.

I feel like I say this every time, but I really liked this recipe.  It was a bit too heavy on the thyme for my husband and I.  Especially my husband; a little bit of thyme goes a very long way for him.  He also found the texture a bit odd at the bottom of the casserole.  I disagree, but I like gooey cheesy textures a lot.

It was something I really enjoyed making; very much my style.  Bacon and white sauce are two of my favorite things to cook, and this recipe uses both.  It's a great comfort food, with those two favorites of mine, but I don't feel quite as guilty about it because eggs are a good source of protein, and the herbs in the sauce make it taste lighter.  And since the eggs were boiled first, they kept and reheated well, so I was able to enjoy this casserole as leftovers, too.  

There are a couple changes I would make.  As said before, there is a bit more thyme than we wanted.  So I'd omit the thyme, or maybe add just a tiny dash of it.  I think we used a four-cheese blend although the original recipe called for cheddar.  I would stick with the cheddar next time, opting for an extra-sharp variety if possible.  Cheddar and bacon combine beautifully!  I would also sprinkle some extra cheddar on top, and give it 5 minutes at the end of the cook time to get bubbly, brown, and crisp. 

Harvest Pockets

A few years ago, things came together in a brilliant flash of mental serendipity for me, and I created a Thanksgiving side dish that I have shared every year since.  It was inspired in by some sort of chestnut stuffing wellington I saw in the newspaper, Sandra Lee making homemade Toaster Strudel, and countless internet articles about alternative to mashed sweet potatoes with marshmallows on top (which I actually quite like).  I've tweaked it over time, but the original concept is solid.  This year I would like to share it with you in time for the holiday (barely).  


Savory Harvest Pockets
1 box frozen puff pastry dough
1 sweet potato
1 small squash (your choice; I typically eat acorn squash)
1 C pecans, chopped
cinnamon
clove
salt 
pepper
butter


Thaw the puff pastry according to package directions.

Cook your potato and squash.  If you're in a hurry, poke them with a fork and microwave them until tender.  However, it's nice to roast/bake, because you get caramelization of the sugars and that much more flavor.  To do this, peel and chop the potato, because it'll go faster that way, toss with a bit of oil, season with salt and pepper, and scatter over a caking sheet.  Bake at 375˚F until brown at the edges.  To roast the squash, cut in half, scoop out the seeds and pulp, and place skin-side down on a baking sheet.  Place approximately 1 Tbsp butter in the center hollow of each half.  Again, bake at 375˚F until flesh is slightly tender and browned at the edges.  As you take it out of the oven, poke the flesh a few times with a fork and swirl the butter around.  Allow the squash to cool, then carefully remove the skin and cut the flesh into pieces.

Toss the cooked squash and sweet potato pieces in a bowl with the pecans and a couple tablespoons of melted butter.  Season to taste with salt, pepper, cinnamon, and clove.  Be careful!  A little bit of clove goes a long, long way.  The mixture (which will be your filling) won't be sweet.

Take out the puff pastry, and cut the sheets into 4 sections each.  (I assume most puff pastry dough comes in the same size… I use Pepperidge Farm's puff pastry, though, if it makes a difference, and my sections are usually 5" by 8".)  You can widen the sections slightly with a rolling pin, if desired.  Place a portion of the filling on half of the section, top with a dollop of butter, leaving approximately half an inch of space on three edges (the imaginary line in the center doesn't count).  Put in more filling than you think you need.  Moisten the bare edges and fold the other half over (you should almost need to stretch it over), pressing to seal.  Slit the top of the pockets to allow steam to escape, and place on a baking sheet.  Repeat with remaining sections.  Bake at the temperature recommended on the puff pastry packaging (again, I'm not sure if this varies by brand or not) until lightly browned.

Some tweaks I've tried

Not Enough Filling!

To be healthier, you could probably leave out the butter.  Puff pastry tends to have a buttery texture on its own, but the flavor comes through better if you add real butter yourself.

If you prefer either squash or sweet potatoes over the other, obviously it's easy enough to omit one and increase the other.  You may also easily change out or omit the pecans.  

The biggest change I've made is that I've experimented with onions.  I like it a lot, because it kicks up the savory aspect, but if you choose to do this, alter the spices used-- think ginger instead of cinnamon.  

They've always gone over well, even with non-adventurous eaters who were just trying them to be polite, and/or friends who don't like sweet potatoes.  (I'll admit that I didn't necessarily say what was in them before they tried them.)  My husband's biggest criticism is that the puff pastry, by it's puffy nature, easily takes over.  Easy fix: just be aware that this is an issue, and pack in that filling.

Chicken Crispies

I think most people would agree that the best part about a really well-prepared bird is the skin. Whether it be picked from the slow-roasted duck my host family made for holidays, or part of the crisped exterior of fried chicken leaving grease on everything at a picnic, as long as it's crispy, it's delicious.  Now, imagine you could have that delicious skin without all the extra bird.  It'd be like bacon, wouldn't it?!?  Well, I've been trying for a while, and I think I've nailed it.

Chicken Crispies
Chicken skin 
salt
pepper
sage

Ok, I'm sorry, but I don't have measurements.  How much skin you use depends on how you want to get your chicken skin, and everything else just gets sprinkled on top to taste.  I think the easiest way to get chicken skin is to buy chicken breasts with the skin on (and usually the bone still in).  They're pretty easy to cut off the bone, and usually you can just peel the skin right off.  If you're really going for it, get a whole chicken.  I usually go for both options, because I have recipes that use whole chickens, but I mostly just cook with chicken breasts; the skin gets bagged and frozen until I want to use it.

Start by laying out the chicken and slicing it into approximately 2-3 inch wide strips.  It will contract as you cook it, so go slightly larger than what you want to munch on.  Arrange the pieces on an ungreased cookie sheet (they'll grease themselves, and the little bit of sticking at the beginning helps keep it flatter), outside up, and sprinkle with salt, pepper, and sage.  Bake at 375˚F for 30- 40 minutes or until crisp and brown.  Transfer to a plate lined with a paper towel, and save the rendered fat, if desired, for other recipes (it's often called "schmalz", and can be used to sauté veggies for soup, along with butter in a crust for, say, a chicken pot pie, or any purpose you need fat for).

Good Scotch Cooking

I may be misremembering, but I'm pretty sure in one of the Little House books, Pa compliments Ma's "good scotch cooking."  It's her Scotch something.  I know, I KNOW, the term these days is "Scottish", unless one is referring to whisky.  But I'm trying to quote something positive.  Trying.  Anyway, I found a Scottish cookbook at an estate sale a while back, and decided it was high time (or highland time?…  Sorry!  I love horrid puns.) I made something from it.  The following is a simple recipe-- simple ingredients, simple cooking, and ultimately simple (but filling) flavors.

Chicken Stovies
1  frying Chicken, cut up
4 large Potatoes
2 large Onions (Don't use red.  It tastes fine, but looks odd.)
2 tsp Salt
1/4 tsp Pepper
1/3 C Butter
1 C chicken stock or broth

Peel and slice the potatoes into quarter-inch slices.  Peel and slice onions thinly.  Arrange alternate layer of chicken, potatoes, and onions in a heavy frying pan.  Dot each later with butter and sprinkle with salt and pepper.  Add the broth.  Cover tightly, bring to a pin, and simmer very gently for about a hour.

Rereading this as I post it, I wonder if I didn't misinterpret the preparation of the chicken.  I interpreted "cut up" as meaning into little bite-sized bits, but now I'm thinking, since it was listed (as I have it here) in the ingredients, not in the prep work, that maybe the recipe just means broken down into parts (wings, thighs, etc.).  That would also explain why it needs an hour to cook.  I guess I'll have to try that next time.

This ended up being a grand way of using up the dark meat of the chicken that I'm not wild about.  (Join me in heaving a giant sigh at the culturally determined preference for bland white meat that I can't shake.)  As you can probably see from the photos, though, the choice of red onion wasn't the best.  The leftovers looked really unappetizing.  It's a little under-seasoned for the taste of my family, either from time or culture.  I would certainly use more salt, and probably include some herbs for additional flavor.  But it's easy enough to cook and was satisfyingly filling. Not bad for a first venture into a cuisine known for meat boiled in a stomach.  Though to be fair, other cultures used entrails as cooking vessels.  The Scots are just more famous for it than everyone else.

Kashmiri Tea

I think my favorite thing about universities is the different people one has the opportunity to meet.  And the great part about getting to know people is that they can provide you with new ideas and insights, and sometimes even new foods.  My good friend Aggie (from China) introduced me to Chinese hotpot, one of my favorite things to eat.  This is not a blog about hotpot, though, so I'll skip going into raptures about it.  Sorry to have brought it up.  

Actually, while we were in school, I learned a lot about culture rather than food from another friend, Sidra.  She was Pakistani-American, and always willing to answer my questions about Islam (which she follows).  I'm not going to pretend that I had very deep questions, but I feel like I learned a lot nonetheless.  Now that we've gone our separate ways, we stay in touch via the internet, an I continue to learn from her.  Again, I'm dangerously close to going off on a tangent; long story short (TOO LATE!), through Sidra I learned about Kashmiri Tea.

Kashmiri tea is a type of Chai.  I imagine it originates in/near Kashmir.  (Wikipedia backs me on this.)  Surprisingly, it is pink in color, even though it's made from jasmine tea, a type of green tea.  According to my friend, one MUST use jasmine tea, or it won't work.  She's been very happy with the tea she gets at Teavana; I happened to have some Aggie had given me from China (I drink it very rarely, because I consider it the most precious of my teas).  The trick, from what I've read elsewhere, is really that you need to shock the leaves with cold, and that's what makes the green go pink.  But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Kashmiri Tea
2 Tbsp jasmine tea
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 tsp baking soda*
1 cinnamon stick
6 green cardamom
4 C milk
4 Tbsp sugar

Place tea, salt, baking soda (if using-- see notes) cinnamon stick, and cardamom in a pot with 4 C water.  Bring to a boil, reduce the heat, and simmer for 30 minutes.  Remove from heat.  Add 1 1/2 C cold water (let it sit with ice while you're finishing the simmer), and stir vigorously.  This is the science magic!  The cold water shocks the leaves, and this leads to the pink color the beverage takes on.  Add the milk and sugar.  Return to the pot, partially cover, and simmer for 10 minutes.  Be careful not to over-heat, or it will lose some of the unique pink tint.  Strain into cups, and serve sprinkled with finely chopped almonds and pistachios.

*Baking soda was present in every recipe I found on the internet, including the one my friend initially shared.  I'm not sure whether it helps with the color or not, but according to Sidra (and a resultant discussion in the comments of her post), it's entirely unnecessary, and  does not belong.  I honestly don't remember whether or not I added it.  I think not.

Tasty!  I found this to be a rich, well-balanced chai.  I especially love the pinkish color; it's not a bubblegum pink, but it was pinker before I heated the tea again than you see in the photo.  I liked the nuts on top, too, because it was like a little snack with my tea, somehow reminiscent of cookies being dunked.

I think this would have been best shared with friends; my husband doesn't care over-much for chai, so I drank it by myself over the course of a couple days.  It's best fresh, of course.  I reckon that's the point, isn't it.  To share tea with friends?