Homemade Marshmallows: S'mores and Chocolate Sauce

Marshmallows are one of those things that seem complicated, but are surprisingly easy to make, given the proper tools. Yet, it took years for me to try making them. I first saw them on Barefoot Contessa and I remember my boss marveling at a parent who brought homemade marshmallows to his kid's classroom. "Who the heck makes their own marshmallows?" he asked.

Read more...

On Roasting Chicken...

Of all the cooking techniques that I've learned, I think one of the most important is roasting a whole chicken. It's really easy, really tasty, and one chicken can lead to multiple meals. Sure, a lot of grocery stores offer rotisserie chickens and they're great, but roasting my own means the chicken's never met a heat lamp or tray.

Read more...

Purée of English Pea Soup with White Truffle Oil and Parmesan Crisps

D. and I decided to revive our supper club and, for the occasion, I thought I'd throw a Keller recipe into the menu. However, with the Chem GRE studying going on, I didn't have time for anything too time-consuming, which ruled out 99.9% of the recipes in Bouchon and The French Laundry Cookbook.

And the Keller cookbook collection is going to get bigger... my copy of the recently released Ad Hoc at Home is due to arrive tomorrow. So excited!

Anyway... right, a Keller recipe that didn't take until my 30th birthday to complete. The winner was Purée of English Pea Soup with White Truffle Oil and Parmesan Crisps. This is probably one of those times when I should be extra-happy that I live in Southern California, because they're still available. Not super-sweet, but they were pretty good. Buying the peas and truffle oil also gave me a chance to visit Specialty Produce, which is a wholesale produce playground that's open to the public.

After buying 5 pounds of peas and a bottle of white truffle oil, I came home and enlisted D.'s help in shelling them. I followed the cooking instructions to the letter, adding just enough peas to the boiling water to form a single layer. While I waited for the peas to cook, I grated Parmesan cheese finely for the Parmesan crisps. I made sure they were big enough to be a "lid" on the mugs that I would serve the soup in.

 

After the peas were cooked and puréed in the food processor, the recipe calls for it to be scraped through a tamis. I don't have one, so I used our fine-mesh strainer and a spatula. One note with the food processor, I had to use a little water to make the purée less pasty and easier to work with.

 

Ok, I understand that the fine mesh makes a smoother purée, but sheesh, this took a little time and muscle. In the end, I had a little over 3 cups of smooth purée and less than 1 cup of the larger-particled pea detritus. I saved it, hoping to use it for risotto.

 

Once I had the purée, it went into the blender with some vegetable broth, but it was still pretty thick. However, I didn't want to compromise the flavor with too much broth or water, so I kept it thick. On the stove it went for a gentle heating, where I seasoned with salt and white pepper. When I was ladling it into mugs for serving, I drizzled a little bit of truffle oil on top of the soup and had my guests give it a good stir. A small amount of chives for garnish and a Parmesan crisp to cover the mug.

 

Blasted auto-focus caught the mug and the crisp, but the soup is blurred. Ah, well... the soup was delicious, with strong pea flavor balanced out by the truffle oil and Parmesan crisp.

Check out Carol's version of the soup. I didn't look for her entry until after the dinner party and was so glad to see that I followed her footsteps with the "mugging". I'm also glad I managed to cook the peas correctly and that her soup ended up being pretty thick. I guess thinning it out is an option, but that strong, sweet pea flavor is going to fade away.

It's easy, fabulous, and the Kermit-green of the soup makes for beautiful presentation. Grab a copy of the book and see for yourself.

Cookbook Series: Bœuf bourguignon, Potatoes Gratin from Thomas Keller's Bouchon

So... I'm back.

It took a while to recover from the Chem GRE. Imagine having brain freeze for about a week or so. Even though it's not the longest nor the most comprehensive test, it's definitely one of the most brutal. My version of the test was 130 questions with 170 minutes to answer them. Do the math and that leaves roughly 0.76 minutes or 45.6 seconds per question.

45.6 seconds for p-chem?! As if.

I managed to look at and think about all of the questions, which is supposedly a small victory in and of itself. How did I do? I don't know... I was numb walking out, both from the mental lashing and the freezing test center.

Then, it was time for the regular GRE, which is a lot like the SAT. To my vague horror, I realized that I would be taking the GRE almost 10 years to the day of my last attempt at the SAT. Geez, I feel old.

Anyway, we're here to discuss food.

D. was traveling and, for his return, I decided to make Keller's bœuf bourguignon. D. has eyed the recipe for a while and with fall rolling in (although it was beach-worthy weather in San Diego), it seemed like a nice dish.

Anyone who has ever cooked a Keller recipe can tell you that the man is nothing if not detailed. I found this old article about Bouchon and I have to agree that it's fussy, it's crazy, but the result is so utterly worth the effort that one bows reverently to King Keller and makes more of his recipes.

It starts with boneless beef shortribs, which I stupidly overbrowned. Instead of turning into tender stew meat, it came out a bit tough.

However, I'm a little ahead of myself. The bourguignon really begins with a red wine reduction. Red wine cooked with a ton of aromatics until it had reduced into a thick sauce. After the reduction is complete, more aromatics are added and topped with a cheesecloth. The browned meat is added on top of the cheesecloth. Keller apparently dislikes debris clinging to the meat, so he recommends using the cheesecloth as a "basket" for the meat. The meat cooks in the reduction, aromatics, and beef stock for a couple of hours, then the meat is lifted out and the veggies strained and discarded.

After removing the meat and discarding the aromatics, the broth is strained over and over. In the end, I strained this lovely broth eight times. Eight. Keller would be proud. That might make up for the massive sin I commit against his greatness: I use store-bought beef stock.

That thud you heard was Keller hitting the ground.

Anyway, I'm too lazy and lack enough foresight to make stock ahead of time. One of these days, I'll make a ton of stock and freeze it. Overall, the broth was excellent and clear as a summer's day.

The vegetables are cooked separately, but with enough herbs and spices that they taste like they were cooked with the meat. It's fussy, but the vegetables stay bright, vibrant, and firm, just like Keller said.

D. loves potato gratin, so we made Bouchon's recipe. Lots of thyme and Emmentaler make it fabulous. Keller uses panko crumbs for the topping, which creates a more delicate crust.

Our table, complete with the epi baguette from San Diego's Bread & Cie.

Posting the recipes, even abbreviated versions, would take forever. So, buy the book and pay homage to the fabulousness that is Thomas Keller.

Supper Club: French Bistro Night, Lemon Cheesecake

D. and I are lousy members of our supper club. After our first meeting, we proceeded to miss the next two monthly meetings. To ensure we wouldn't miss another one, we wanted to host the fourth meeting. There was German night and Mexican night, so we decided to stick with the cultural theme and have French night. One of the reasons we picked it was that we enjoyed the dishes from D.'s birthday party and wanted to make them again.

Instead of the ratatouille, D. picked the glazed vegetable dish from Bouchon. I enjoyed this dish, but I think the glaze is a bit too mild to alleviate the tubers' earthiness. Root vegetables are best for this recipe, so we went with carrots (both orange and golden), rutabagas, turnips, and beets. The result was a visually arresting dish.

Glazed Vegetables
(adapted from Bouchon by Thomas Keller)

Various root vegetables (carrots, turnips, rutabagas, beets, etc.)
Sugar (1 tbsp. per 2 cups vegetables)
Butter (1 tbsp. per 2 cups vegetables)
Thyme (1 sprig per 2 cups vegetables)
Rosemary (1 sprig per 2 cups vegetables)
Bay leaf (1 per 2 cups vegetables)
Chives, diced and trimmed to 2 inch "batons"

Place the vegetables in a single layer in a sauce pan or skillet. (Note: Keller advises cooking each vegetable separately for even cooking, but I was short on time and mixed them with no adverse effects.) Add enough cold water just to cover the vegetables. Heat on high until water boils. While heating, add sugar, butter, thyme, rosemary, and bay leaf. Once water boils, lower heat to medium-high and cook vegetables at a hard simmer/soft boil. Cook until all of the liquid is reduced to glaze and toss vegetables to glaze. Transfer to serving dish and sprinkle chives over.

If vegetables begin to turn mushy, remove from liquid and continue to reduce. Return vegetables to pan when liquid has been reduced to a sticky glaze.

Much to my chagrin, I'm now a fan of beets. However, I wouldn't do beets and rutabagas in the same dish, because they taste quite similarly and it's a little too much of a good thing. Pretty colors, though.

D. made fries again, which turned out beautifully. Fries at home are worth the trouble if one has patience for the heating times and the mess. The oil takes a long time to heat and cools rapidly when the fries are added. Mandolines make slicing infinitely easier and faster.

For dessert, D.D. and D.B. gave me lemons from their tree, so I made lemon cheesecake. This recipe was one that I made over and over again during '06-'07, then stopped because I tired of it. Still as good as I remember. It's a Paula Deen recipe, but she used Splenda and fat-free cream cheese, sour cream, and egg substitute. Although D. is diabetic, he's not a fan of Splenda-based desserts. For him, it's better to have a small portion made with sugar than a typical portion made with Splenda. (Disclaimer: This works for him and I realize all diabetics handle their regimens differently, so please understand that this is not to be applied to all diabetics.) When he saw this recipe, he shrugged and asked if I could substitute real sugar back into it. It worked really well. I also use real eggs, but I like to use light cream cheese and light sour cream.

Lemon Cheesecake
(adapted from Paula Deen's Joanne's Almost Fat-free Lemon Cheesecake)

Crust:
1 3/4 cup crumbs made from Trader Joe's Butter Almond Thins (just about any butter-based cookie or wafer works, but I like the Butter Almond Thins)
1/4 cup butter, melted

Filling:
3 x 8-oz. packages cream cheese, at room temperature
1 cup sour cream
2 cups sugar
3 large eggs
2 teaspoons lemon zest
6 tablespoons of lemon juice (I accidentally added 6 tablespoons once, which was meant for the lemon curd, and I found it works really well... for a lighter lemon flavor, use anywhere from 2 to 6 tablespoons)

Lemon curd:
1 1/2 teaspoons lemon zest
6 tablespoons lemon juice
1 large egg
1 large egg yolk
1/2 cup sugar
2 tablespoons butter, cut into bits
(Note: I find that store-bought curd tastes just as good as homemade, so it can be substituted in a pinch)

Preheat oven to 325 degrees F.

Crush Butter Almond Thins in a food processor. Measure out the crumbs, then mix with melted butter. Press into a greased springform pan, using the bottom of a drinking glass to even out the mixture. Bake for about 10 minutes or until edges have darkened and crust is set. After baking the crust, wrap aluminum foil around the bottom and sides of the springform pan, creating a barrier to prevent water from soaking the pan/crust.

While preparing the filling, heat water for a water bath. It just needs to be hot enough so the bath doesn't take too long to reach oven temperature. Do not allow the water to boil.

Combine cream cheese and sour cream and beat with an electric mixer on medium-high until fluffy. For stand mixers, the paddle attachment works best. Add sugar gradually and continue beating until mixture is smooth. Lower mixer speed and add eggs one at a time. Beat only to incorporate. Gently beat in juice and zest. Pour into crust.

Set the springform pan into another pan (roasting pans work well) with high walls. Place pan in oven. Very carefully, add enough hot, not boiling, water to reach the middle of the springform pan. Bake for 1 hour to 1 hr. 15 min. or until filling is set and slightly jiggly. The water bath is essential for prevention of cracked fillings.

When cheesecake is done, be very careful while lifting the springform pan out of the water bath. Turn off oven and leave water bath inside to cool. Cool cheesecake completely and transfer to refrigerator.

In a double boiler, combine every ingredient for the lemon curd, except for the butter. Whisk until hot and frothy. Add butter gradually and continue whisking until mixture thickens and coats the back of the spoon. Remove from heat and cool. Curd should be jelly-like after it cools. Spread curd over cheesecake, then refrigerate for several hours or overnight.

Our next supper club meeting: brunch!

Cookbook Series: Happy Birthday, D.!

For D.'s birthday, we had a small dinner at home using recipes from Thomas Keller's Bouchon. It is a beautifully photographed book focusing on French bistro-style cooking. Since we dined at the restaurant, I've been interested in recreating some of the recipes. For D., I thought I'd make his favorites: the steak frites, French onion soup (which he nearly ordered at Bouchon), Provencal vegetables, cauliflower gratin (not pictured), and yellow cake with chocolate frosting. First, the French onion soup, which required an ungodly amount of onions. They cooked for 6 hours and still weren't done. Keller advocates really slow cooking to maximize caramelization. It's probably best to do the onions one day before, then reheat them and add the broth.

For a vegetarian version, I separated a batch of onions post-caramelization, then continued with the recipe using vegetable broth. Both veggie and beef broth were store-bought. The veggie version is much sweeter, but very good.

The cookbook called for Emmentaler or Comte cheese. Costco carries 1 lb. wedges of Comte for about $11 each. Trader Joe's carries Emmentaler. The croutons are baguette slices placed under the broiler, then put into the soup. Grated and sliced cheese is placed over the baguette to ensure maximum coverage, then the bowl is placed under the broiler again. The long cooking time was well worth it, as the soup was amazingly sweet with a nice salty kick. I'm especially proud of the Provencal vegetables (confit byaldi), which require thinly sliced veggies layered on top of sauteed red, yellow, and green peppers and onions. I sliced by hand, which wasn't so bad, thanks to improving knife skills. Once I assembled the dish, I realized that it resembled the ratatouille from the Disney movie of the same name. In the recipe, Keller mentions that this is a refined version of ratatouille and the Wikipedia articles claim that this dish was designed for the film (there's a supporting citation to that claim).

It's an incredibly gorgeous dish and tastes the way it looks. Olive oil, garlic, and panko crumbs are spread on top to give it a slight crust. Baking time is 2 1/2 hours at 275 degrees F, so the veggies are very sweet and soft without turning into slop.

Where's Anton Ego? Hehe. The steak frites turned out beautifully, but the damned frites really threw a wrench into the schedule. D. was in charge of the frites, but both of us underestimated Keller's frite recipe. It says a first fry is about 3 minutes and the second fry is about 5 minutes. What we didn't take into account was the oil cooling significantly during the frying. Bringing the oil back up to temperature took a while. Our pot wasn't too big, either, so we had to do them in batches. It took nearly 2 hours to complete the frites. Shit.

However, they were really, really good. Worth the wait? Maybe not. The flatiron steaks were from Iowa Meat Farms and they were delicious. Seared on each side and roasted until rare, they were juicy and butter-soft. They were topped with shallots cooked in the searing pan and roasted with the steaks. Also, I made maitre d'hotel butter, a compound butter that includes parsley and lemon juice. In the photo, the butter had melted, but added so much to an already-delicious steak.

The cake will be in a separate post, since there was some birthday cakeage that week for D. and R.

Happy Birthday, D.!