Cooking for Dad

Tonight, Mom takes the night off and goes out to dinner with her "girlfriends." She gave me a recipe to prepare, Provencal Vegetables and Chicken in Packages, for my father and myself from Mark Bittman's cookbook "The Food Matters." In his cookbook, Bittman emphasizes healthier dishes with less meat and more vegetables. As he puts it, "meat and other animal products are included, but they are no longer the centerpiece." Many of the recipes are a bit out-of-the-box, such as Dal, or lentil stew, with what he labels as "lots of vegetables" and also a recipe for spinach and noodle "meatballs." My parents have adopted this veggie-emphasized diet as of lately.

To my surprise, the recipe my mother had chosen to prepare is reminiscent of how I used to cook while I was abroad in Paris. Throwing vegetables (especially mushrooms) in tin foil and cooking them in the oven is a deliciously simple way to prepare them. Bittman's recipe followed the same philosophy. The recipe is straightforward and easy to follow -

Ingredients:
-1 small eggplant, cut into cubes
-An appropriate amount of yukon gold potatoes, sliced
-2 zucchini, sliced
-1 or 2 ripened tomatoes, cored and diced
-salt and pepper
-fresh thyme or something of comparable quality
-chicken breasts
-olive oil

Instructions (my interpretation of the recipe):
-Heat the oven to 375.
-After cutting the vegetables, rub them with a bit of olive oil, salt, pepper and thyme.
-Prepare the chicken in the same manner, with olive oil, salt, pepper and thyme.
-With an appropriate amount of tin foil, combine the vegetables onto the "package" and seal it gently. Do the same with the chicken on a separate package.
-Cook all the packages in the oven for at least 40 minutes (it took me almost an hour for the potatoes to become tender). Make sure the chicken doesn't overcook.

Although the dish takes a bit longer to prepare than I intend, Dad is quite satisfied with his dinner tonight! So am I.

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Grandma's Excellent Chili

Last Thursday, it snowed in Baltimore. This meant one thing - chili - the ultimate comfort food. I had just finished my last exam, and Paul had one more to go, so I could only think of one thing that we both needed. I had been meaning to make it for a while, so I thought it would be a nice surprise for him. And I had just the recipe. Growing up, I remembered my grandma's cooking strongly. She specialized in everything from banana pudding to green beans and bacon (I also remember she had a funny knack for dipping her potato chips in mayonnaise). However one recipe always stuck out - her chili.

A few years after she died, my mom compiled all of her recipes into a cookbook called "Charlotte's Recipes." She included the chili recipe in it. Luckily, I'd brought a copy of it with me to Baltimore. Here's her recipe, titled "Mom's Excellent Chili:"

-Cover pan bottom with olive oil
-Chop fine 2 large onions, saute in oil
-Add 1 lb. of ground beef, saute until brown

Add to pan (in amounts that are logical):
-red pepper
-cumin
-black pepper
-salt
-chili powder

Then add:
-1 large can + 1 small can of peeled tomatoes (mash them up in the pot)
-1 large can of kidney beans and juice

Cook for a few hours on simmer. Taste - if not spicy enough, add chili powder or Tabasco sauce.

When I prepared it, I added a can of black beans to the kidney beans. This provided some variety. I left out the onions, which was probably a mistake. I also decided to add a few ingredients not on the recipe - oregano, basil, extra chili powder and a copious amount of Tabasco. Also, after cooking it for 45 minutes, I realized that it tasted horrible. My grandma would not be pleased with this. So, I decided to bring out the secret weapon - alcohol. I poured half of a German Marzen Oktoberfest beer into the pot and WHAM! instant fix. The beer gave the formerly bitter chili a sweeter, softer taste that flushed out the oregano and basil flavors. Thank god. However, I later found that I had been a bit too liberal with the hot sauce. The chili, although it tasted wonderful, had an incredible kick. Sweating profusely, I opened every window in my apartment to let the 25 degree air cool me down. Don't ever underestimate the Tabasco. Nevertheless, Paul loved it.

Later, I called my mom to tell her about the chili. Apparently, she planned on preparing the same recipe for me when I came home the next day for Christmas break. No matter, chili never gets old. In my mom's version, she stuck to Grandma's recipe. It was excellent without a doubt. While experimenting can be fun, there are some times when sticking to the book pays off.

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Another special note regarding the loss of Chester Weedgar, Jr.

As the summer ends, I am faced with another death - the death of my goldfish.

Yesterday afternoon, Chester jumped out of his fishbowl onto the rug of Paul's apartment. Without water, Chester couldn't survive for long. When Paul came home from work that night, he found Chester, shriveled into something barely recognizable on the rug.

So what did Paul do? He flushed little Chester down the toilet. And that was that. It's not what I would have done with a dead fish, but then again, what else could he have done? A burial at sea at Druid Park Reservoir?

We miss our little fish. We loved to watch him swim around his glass bowl, always looking so happy. He survived way longer than I anticipated he would, almost two and a half months. I'm going to miss feeding him in the mornings.

But seriously, first my car, now the goldfish? It's been quite a summer.

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Mussels and Crabs for Dinner?

After an excess of meat, meat and more meat, I was ready for something different, something lighter. My first thought was seafood. With a stroke of brilliance, Paul suggested snow crab clusters that were on sale at Giant. $5.99 a pound was absolutely ridiculously cheap for crab. Maybe it was because we were in Baltimore, the crab capital of the world? Who knows, but it was a deal we couldn’t pass up.

And even better, Giant can steam the crabs in-store, seasoned with or without Old Bay. The snow crab claws contain an impressive amount of meat and are easy to break open and eat. They can be enjoyed hot or cold.

Crab legs in hand, something else caught my eye. Mussels were on sale as well, $6 a bag - couldn't pass that up either.

The crabs were ready to eat, but the mussels were still alive. I didn’t realize this, as for some reason I thought that if the shells were open the mussels were dead. As a result, I chucked 10 of them into the trash can. Paul discovered them half an hour later, explaining that if the shells were open, you could tap them on a hard surface. If the mussels were alive, the shells would close.

I decided to make a simple sauce for the mussels, nothing that I had a recipe for, just something I improvised –

-some champagne (just pour it in the pot until it looks like enough)
-a small amount of beer
-a can of tomatoes and one fresh tomato, diced
-a generous amount of garlic powder
-a pinch or two of parley
-ambiguous amounts of salt and pepper

I learned that you don’t need a lot of liquid with which to steam mussels. I combined all of the ingredients in a pot, and waited for it to boil. We steamed the mussels above the mixture in the pot for about five minutes, until the meat inside the shell turned a golden brown color.

In addition to crabs and mussels, I asked Paul to make some of his specialty potatoes. They're in no way healthy, but they really are delicious. He slices russet potatoes into triangle sections, pours olive oil or canola oil into a big saucepan and fries them up until they're golden brown. Afterwards he seasons them with salt and pepper. It's that simple and they made a perfect companion to our seafood dinner.

The meal was a huge success - everything was cooked perfectly. I really liked my mussel sauce too - the champagne cut the acidity of the tomato sauce nicely. And to think - I used to believe you could only get good mussels and crabs in restaurants.

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A trip to the JFX Farmer's Market

Anything before 11 a.m. on a Sunday is horrifically, unacceptably early for me. It is nearly impossible for me to wake up any earlier, especially when I’m going to bed after 3 a.m. on Saturday. It’s been quite the problem for me all summer, because I can never make it to any of the Baltimore area farmer’s markets before they close. Thanks to a recent assignment from my food editor at Baltimore magazine, I was finally able to make it yesterday.

The project was for me to write a short article about a pickle vendor at the Baltimore Farmer’s Market, every Sunday morning from 7 a.m. to noon underneath the JFX. The vendor is called “In a Pickle,” and sells all sorts of innovative variations on the classic pickle. My pre-determined 9 a.m. arrival time for me and my boyfriend Paul (he’s obsessed with pickles) was far too ambitious. We arrived closer to 11, but we still had plenty of time to browse (and there was still plenty of food to be sold!).

We wandered around the crowded, but lively market, in search of the pickle tent. We browsed vendors selling peaches, fresh berries (I bought some blackberries) and other fruits. I bought a chocolate chip cookie from a baker, too. There were also vendors selling fresh live crabs and prepared foods such as crepes, falafel, omelets, Asian food (a bit odd) and a Baltimore favorite, pit beef sandwiches. We were unimpressed with the pit beef, particularly because the vendors stuffed the beef between two slices of what appeared to be soggy Wonderbread.

After a bit, we finally found the pickle vendor, and were quite impressed. After waiting in the long line, we bought a pint of kosher dill pickles, one for Paul and one for my roommate (another pickle fan). Paul also bought a “pickle on a stick,” which is exactly what it says it is. I asked the man helping us where the pickles came from, and he responded, “Our pickles are grass-fed from Arizona.” At first I believed him.

I must confess that I’m not a huge pickle fan myself, but after trying a bite of Paul’s pickle on a stick, I have to say that it wasn’t half bad. The crisp crunchiness has a surprisingly clean flavor and wasn’t nearly as overpoweringly sour as I expected it to be.

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A special post: regarding the potential loss of a great friend

On Tuesday, July 28th, my 2002 Volvo S60 suffered a damaging blow to her front bumper. Her left headlight shattered, glass shards strewn in the intersection of 29th and St. Paul Street. The front plate reading “Dyer and Dyer Cars” that she once wore proudly, now trampled by ongoing traffic. The bumper clung to the car desperately, trying to keep himself together during the moment of peril.

After five happy years with my precious 2002 Volvo S60, her future is at stake.

Exhaustion hit following a long day of sitting on my ass in front of a computer screen at my magazine internship for the summer. I don’t understand how I can be so tired from moving so little. I thought I would take a nap when I arrived at my apartment, and then go for a run later. I thought of my soft bed, laden with pillows and a fluffy comforter. “Empire State of Mind” by Jay-Z played on the radio, at least I think it did. To be honest, all I remember is black, then a flash of yellow. No, not the shining light at the end of the tunnel, but the back of a taxi cab. When I realized what was going on, it was already too late for my Volvo. I remember the crunch, as I came out of my daze, powerless to help her.
I didn’t think the damage could have been much. I don’t remember feeling much when I hit the taxi. It was quite similar to the way it feels when my dad shakes me awake in the morning whenever I’m home. I tried to brake at the light, so I wasn’t completely oblivious. But the last few seconds before I struck were lost.

The repercussions were far worse than I anticipated. The complacent expression that once served as the front of my car was unrecognizably mangled. My only thought – “I’m an idiot.” Dozing off at the wheel? Pathetic. And the taxi? Unharmed, except for a small scrape near the rear tailpipe. Typical. Luckily, the cab driver spoke English and was quite nice about the situation.

My car now sits in a body shop, awaiting its potentially morbid fate. When the inspector mentioned the word, “totaled” my head began to spin as I thought about life without my Volvo. I learned to drive in that car, I survived my melodramatic teenage years in that car. I had driven that car to my new home in Baltimore to spend the summer with me. She had been a reliable companion, taking me where I needed to go, when I wanted. The South Carolina license plate was a minority up here, and made me feel proud to be among the few from the South. The rainbow colored palm tree window sticker, my high school parking sticker from 2006-2007 that I still hadn’t removed – all of these were reflective of me.

I am now driving a rental Hyundai while my car is held captive. Let’s just say it’s no Volvo.

UPDATE: the Volvo is offically dead as of August 3rd, 2010.

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Another rainy day activity: Irish Car Bomb Cupcakes

Yesterday was truly a disgusting day - deathly hot, and then a waterfall of rain unleashed from the sky, complete with thunder, lightning and all that fun stuff. I could only think of one thing to do and that was to make cupcake infused with alcohol. Where on earth did I get this idea? I read an article last week about a bakery in NYC that sells alcoholic cupcakes, Butch Bakery. Apparently their cupcakes contain enough alcohol to give you a real buzz, which is impressive.

My aspiration? To create a cupcake with the same effect. My roommate found this recipe for Guinness Chocolate cupcakes with an Irish whiskey ganache filling and Bailey's cream frosting:


Irish Car Bomb Cupcakes


For the Guinness Chocolate Cupcakes:
1 cup stout (such as Guinness)
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter
3/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder (preferably Dutch-process)
2 cups all purpose flour
2 cups sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
3/4 teaspoon salt
2 large eggs
2/3 cup sour cream

Ganache Filling (Updated to double it, based on many commenters suggestions — thanks!)
8 ounces bittersweet chocolate
2/3 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons butter, room temperature
1 to 2 teaspoons Irish whiskey (optional)

Baileys Frosting (see Recipe Notes)
3 to 4 cups confections sugar
1 stick (1/2 cup or 4 ounces) unsalted butter, at room temperatue
3 to 4 tablespoons Baileys (or milk, or heavy cream, or a combination thereof)

Special equipment: 1-inch round cookie cutter or an apple corer and a piping bag (though a plastic bag with the corner snipped off will also work)

Make the cupcakes: Preheat oven to 350°F. Line 24 cupcake cups with liners. Bring 1 cup stout and 1 cup butter to simmer in heavy large saucepan over medium heat. Add cocoa powder and whisk until mixture is smooth. Cool slightly.

Whisk flour, sugar, baking soda, and 3/4 teaspoon salt in large bowl to blend. Using electric mixer, beat eggs and sour cream in another large bowl to blend. Add stout-chocolate mixture to egg mixture and beat just to combine. Add flour mixture and beat briefly on slow speed. Using rubber spatula, fold batter until completely combined. Divide batter among cupcake liners, filling them 2/3 to 3/4 of the way. Bake cake until tester inserted into center comes out clean, rotating them once front to back if your oven bakes unevenly, about 17 minutes. Cool cupcakes on a rack completely.

Make the filling: Chop the chocolate and transfer it to a heatproof bowl. Heat the cream until simmering and pour it over the chocolate. Let it sit for one minute and then stir until smooth. (If this has not sufficiently melted the chocolate, you can return it to a double-boiler to gently melt what remains. 20 seconds in the microwave, watching carefully, will also work.) Add the butter and whiskey (if you’re using it) and stir until combined.

Fill the cupcakes: Let the ganache cool until thick but still soft enough to be piped (the fridge will speed this along but you must stir it every 10 minutes). Meanwhile, using your 1-inch round cookie cutter or an apple corer, cut the centers out of the cooled cupcakes. You want to go most of the way down the cupcake but not cut through the bottom — aim for 2/3 of the way. A slim spoon or grapefruit knife will help you get the center out. Those are your “tasters”. Put the ganache into a piping bag with a wide tip and fill the holes in each cupcake to the top.

Make the frosting: Whip the butter in the bowl of an electric mixer, or with a hand mixer, for several minutes. You want to get it very light and fluffy. Slowly add the powdered sugar, a few tablespoons at a time.

http://www.chewonthatblog.com/2009/02/25/irish-car-bomb-cupcakes/


My thoughts:
Good lord. They were perhaps the most involved cupcakes I've ever made, requiring us to poke a hole in the cupcakes after they were baked so we could pour whiskey infused ganache into it. We may have gone a bit overboard with the ganache, as it actually burned my throat when I ate the cupcake. The frosting was the crowning jewel of the cupcake, and came out really well. We used just enough Bailey's to make it just strong enough.

As it rained torrentially outside, my roommate and I enjoyed making these cupcakes as alcoholic as possible without ruining the flavor. It worked out perfectly too, we finally got to use our leftover alcohol from St. Patrick's day!

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