Long promised food porn, with pictures
Oct. 27th, 2005 01:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pecuniumTo go back a bit (you have to suffer more than just food porn) Maia and I went to Faire, where we celebrated our anniversary.
Me, I did what she told me too. She wanted a Singletree flask, with horses. She happens to like a cosmopolitan, as tweaked by me (a gold rum in lieu of vodka, a dash of either Gran Marnier, or Cointreau) and since she doesn't drink much, and most have too heavy a hand when pouring (esp. at the faire where much is lived large and hostpitality a virtue) she likes to carry her own spirits. An old pasta jar full of booze is a small bit of declassé and so I went and got it.
Now, for all that Maia's family is fond of telling each other what they want (to the point that sometimes the giftgiving is settled with the question, "What do you want for, "x" holiday?" as well as simple declarations of what one wants. These are seen as perfectly normal, and not in the least rude), I am of a tradition in which gifts are little tokens of appreciation. Something the giver thinks the gifted will enjoy, be it dear, or mean, in price, the choosing is more than trifle of the worth.
I went to our jeweler, and got her something she's been complaining of not having, some rose earings; these had garnets where the stamens would be. I also knew she wouls be stopping by, and so just left it with Steve and Benita to deliver as they saw fit.
Then I went and spent the day with a friend, making him look the more well to do noble. This was a pleasant foolishness, as David carries what can only be described as a punch-bowl on a stem, where a normal man would have a goblet, cup, or stein. The thing isn't quite full when a magnum's worth of ale is put in it; and he likes Belgian brews.
I cut myself off at 4 in the afternoon, with a Guinness, bought by the third member of our little troupe. We'd spent the day riffing on the relative prowess of each other, using the size, material and whatever other attributes of our cups we might bring into (or have dragged in by the customers). A pleasant ribabldry was the nature of the day.
I also took some time to browse. Oso was there. This is an amazing sword and bladsmith. He has, in the past several years, taken to making patterned steel. Beautiful stuff. Many moons ago he made a katana styled blade, with brass tsuba and pommel, and a piece of oryx horn between them. I wanted it. It was as close to perfect in a sword as I have ever handled. One-handed or two, it was light, quick, and balanced. I could've used it to cleave armies. Even an inept swordsman (and while I'm not in the practice I used to be, nor even in the practice I want to be, I am not inept) could do some real damage with it. Lovely to look at, and thrilling to handle. At $1,200, it was a steal, but beyond my means.
Now his stuff is better (and no less dear). If he made rapiers, well I'd want one. Simple fittings, utilitarian to look at, but imagine the looks I'd get when 32" inches of watered steel was put on display. And light, did I mention light, which makes for quick, so it would be whipping around when I was taking practice. Ah, things which pass for toys in my middle years.
There were new potters. Some with very nice looking stuff. Maia asked if I'd looked at one of them, he had, she said, amazing textures. I went and looked, and he did. The glazes were matt, and smooth. Not glassy smooth, more a sense of brushed satin; in earth tones. Some of them had bands of bare stone (done by placing wax on the bisque, so the glaze won't stick) and into that he had scribed wheat, the heads drifting in a breeze.
And I saw a set of three (in blue, high gloss) of bowls. I went to look at them and he commeded a set of the speckled brown (sort of like spotted eggs). I lifted one (it too, like Oso's cutlery, was light) and below it was a piece of paper, "Happy Anniversary Terry, Bake More Bread.".
She had bought me lingerie (for those who don't know, a guy buys a woman lingerie, because he wants her to wear it).
So, I knew we were having lasagne for dinner on Tues., I'd done this so I could make some bread. This just made it easier. I had been complaing for a while that the largest of our bowls is a little small for making more than a single loaf at a time. This was no longer a problem.
Monday I made a batch of dough, and decided to see just what the bowl would do.
It was a pretty big loaf. I shaped it into a ring.
For those who want a sense of scale
She's standing in front of the cookbook shelves, These days the lower one is almost completely full.
It was about 8 1/2 lbs.
I also made some sourdough. I bought a book The Bread Baker's Apprentice by Reinhart. Really good book, and he explained why my sourdough tastes like normal bread. It's the yeast. No, not the local stuff, but the way yeast, in general grows. It's fast. You can double a cup of starter and the next day, split it, put half back in the fridge and sponge it up to make a couple pounds of bread.
The bacteria, however, which make the acids which make it sour, take days to catch up to that much volume and so there isn't any bite.
The cure, so Reinhart tells me, is to let the starter sit, for up to four days (after that the enzymes start to break the gluten down and the bread stops getting so much rise... this can be fixed by adding gluten [pokes about the cupboard, whattayaknow, I have about 8 oz. of essential wheat gluten, so I guess I can cope). I let the starter rest in a cool, dark place, for about three and half days and made a loaf of bread.
I also made about 60 percent of the dough from the starter. Bliss. It was creamy, (though the crumb was a little dense) had good crust and a bite. Brighter than SF sourdough, and a slow finish. It was repeatable. I have a batch in the garage right now, and will be making some to take to Barry when we head to L.A. this weekend.
The lasagne. Vegetarian. I like veggies, but regrettably the popular ones and I don't agree. Spinach? Wonderful if raw, a potent emtetic if I try to swallow it cooked. Broccoli? Nope. Eggplant? Foul.
So, to make a veggie lasagne I use capers, olives, and tomatoes. Line the pan with dry noodles (most sauces are fairly wet, the sauce will get to at least 180, and then the starches will absorb the excess liquid and you get done noodles, and no watery slop on the plate.
Place a thinnish layer of sauce on the noodles.
Take some ricotta (you may substitue cottage cheese, or stretch it, should your taste; or budget demand it. You may smoothen it, and mellow the flavor with marscapone. You can sharpen the flavor with assagio, romano or [what I do] with ricotta you have bought some weeks in advance and allowed to rest in the fridge), and mix it with dried oregano, and fresh marjoram. Rosemary if that suits your fancy (I find it starts to get too complicated, and muddy, sort of like a medieval meat pie, but that's just me) and spread the mix on the sauce.
Layer on some small capers.
Repeat the noodles, sauce, cheese (if you want to make your own pasta, lasagne is a wonderful dish for it, because one need not use a machine. A rolling pin and a wooden board is perfect. A charming benefit is the noodle sheets can be made to fit the pan, one layer, one noodle). This time add chopped olives (black, green, kalamata, picholine, sicilian, niçoise, whatever takes your fancy. The sauce can be adjusted to suit the olives, just recall the capers will be a bright, and astringent note).
A layer of noodles (if you are using dried, press them down between layers) sauce cheese, etc..
Keep doing this up to the top of the pan. Leave at least 1/4 inch (and a half is best) to pour in a lot of sauce, so the edges of the noodles don't burn in the oven.
About twenty minutes before it's done, toss on the mozzarella (or, for a more punguent layer, provolone). For fresh, chop it small, or aged/mass, grate it.
The first course was a soup.
Take some olive oil, get it hot. Into this toss some cubed potatoes; peeled. Cook them until they make a slight fond, but don't let them brown. While this is going on, add an onion, chopped small.
When the fond gets a little more defined, add a couple of cups each of chopped celery and carrots (you may grate the carrots if you choose, but I just slice them thin). Let them sauté for a couple of minutes.
Just as they are finishing, place about a quarter cup of tomato paste in the hot spot of the pot (It's got to be a big pot, I use my 12" dutch oven) and let it heat through. In a cooler part of the pot, place some crushed garlic. When the garlic starts to brown, add 4 qt.s hot water (you can set it to simmer on a back burner, it has to heat up anyway, so you aren't wasting energy).
Toss in some bay leaves (not less than two, nor more than four) and some piece of parmagian rind.
Cover and let sit on high simmer until the potatoes are disolved.
It can be served as is, or turned into any number of soups. It's a great base for minestrone. Black pepper, (or some warm/hot peppers to taste) will give it some bite.
That was last week.
This week I was lazier. I made a mulligatawny. Took some veggie and chicken stock from the freezer. Added 1 1/2 lbs dried peas (I couldn't find brown and yellow dal [which are varieties of lentils] so I made do).
Simmer, stirring on occasion to keep the bottom from scorching.
Add curry powder, turmeric and cumin. I wanted it to be more yellow, so I powdered some saffron and added it.
Monday I made a large loaf of flattish bread. Sliced the top off (so it was mostly flat, and about two-inches thick). It had been par-baked and, after scalping, I put it in a 375F oven to finish, and start to toast.
The plan was Welsh Rarebit.
In a pan I put some cream and butter (if making dairy sauces, start with cream, even when milk is the end point, because cream won't scorch, you can dilute later; though this recipe doesn't call for it).
That's when I discovered I had no worcestershire. No problem. Some soy, a dash of nam pla and a splach of balsamic, good to go. Some seeded mustard with horseradish and then the cubed cheese (about 3/4 of a lb) goes in, slowly at first and stir until it's smooth and thick.
Open the oven, ladle it on the bread, and put it on the high shelf, with the oven on broil. Five minutes later (which a pleasant freckling of toasted brown cheesey spots, it comes out.
Me, I did what she told me too. She wanted a Singletree flask, with horses. She happens to like a cosmopolitan, as tweaked by me (a gold rum in lieu of vodka, a dash of either Gran Marnier, or Cointreau) and since she doesn't drink much, and most have too heavy a hand when pouring (esp. at the faire where much is lived large and hostpitality a virtue) she likes to carry her own spirits. An old pasta jar full of booze is a small bit of declassé and so I went and got it.
Now, for all that Maia's family is fond of telling each other what they want (to the point that sometimes the giftgiving is settled with the question, "What do you want for, "x" holiday?" as well as simple declarations of what one wants. These are seen as perfectly normal, and not in the least rude), I am of a tradition in which gifts are little tokens of appreciation. Something the giver thinks the gifted will enjoy, be it dear, or mean, in price, the choosing is more than trifle of the worth.
I went to our jeweler, and got her something she's been complaining of not having, some rose earings; these had garnets where the stamens would be. I also knew she wouls be stopping by, and so just left it with Steve and Benita to deliver as they saw fit.
Then I went and spent the day with a friend, making him look the more well to do noble. This was a pleasant foolishness, as David carries what can only be described as a punch-bowl on a stem, where a normal man would have a goblet, cup, or stein. The thing isn't quite full when a magnum's worth of ale is put in it; and he likes Belgian brews.
I cut myself off at 4 in the afternoon, with a Guinness, bought by the third member of our little troupe. We'd spent the day riffing on the relative prowess of each other, using the size, material and whatever other attributes of our cups we might bring into (or have dragged in by the customers). A pleasant ribabldry was the nature of the day.
I also took some time to browse. Oso was there. This is an amazing sword and bladsmith. He has, in the past several years, taken to making patterned steel. Beautiful stuff. Many moons ago he made a katana styled blade, with brass tsuba and pommel, and a piece of oryx horn between them. I wanted it. It was as close to perfect in a sword as I have ever handled. One-handed or two, it was light, quick, and balanced. I could've used it to cleave armies. Even an inept swordsman (and while I'm not in the practice I used to be, nor even in the practice I want to be, I am not inept) could do some real damage with it. Lovely to look at, and thrilling to handle. At $1,200, it was a steal, but beyond my means.
Now his stuff is better (and no less dear). If he made rapiers, well I'd want one. Simple fittings, utilitarian to look at, but imagine the looks I'd get when 32" inches of watered steel was put on display. And light, did I mention light, which makes for quick, so it would be whipping around when I was taking practice. Ah, things which pass for toys in my middle years.
There were new potters. Some with very nice looking stuff. Maia asked if I'd looked at one of them, he had, she said, amazing textures. I went and looked, and he did. The glazes were matt, and smooth. Not glassy smooth, more a sense of brushed satin; in earth tones. Some of them had bands of bare stone (done by placing wax on the bisque, so the glaze won't stick) and into that he had scribed wheat, the heads drifting in a breeze.
And I saw a set of three (in blue, high gloss) of bowls. I went to look at them and he commeded a set of the speckled brown (sort of like spotted eggs). I lifted one (it too, like Oso's cutlery, was light) and below it was a piece of paper, "Happy Anniversary Terry, Bake More Bread.".
She had bought me lingerie (for those who don't know, a guy buys a woman lingerie, because he wants her to wear it).
So, I knew we were having lasagne for dinner on Tues., I'd done this so I could make some bread. This just made it easier. I had been complaing for a while that the largest of our bowls is a little small for making more than a single loaf at a time. This was no longer a problem.
Monday I made a batch of dough, and decided to see just what the bowl would do.
It was a pretty big loaf. I shaped it into a ring.
For those who want a sense of scale
She's standing in front of the cookbook shelves, These days the lower one is almost completely full.
It was about 8 1/2 lbs.
I also made some sourdough. I bought a book The Bread Baker's Apprentice by Reinhart. Really good book, and he explained why my sourdough tastes like normal bread. It's the yeast. No, not the local stuff, but the way yeast, in general grows. It's fast. You can double a cup of starter and the next day, split it, put half back in the fridge and sponge it up to make a couple pounds of bread.
The bacteria, however, which make the acids which make it sour, take days to catch up to that much volume and so there isn't any bite.
The cure, so Reinhart tells me, is to let the starter sit, for up to four days (after that the enzymes start to break the gluten down and the bread stops getting so much rise... this can be fixed by adding gluten [pokes about the cupboard, whattayaknow, I have about 8 oz. of essential wheat gluten, so I guess I can cope). I let the starter rest in a cool, dark place, for about three and half days and made a loaf of bread.
I also made about 60 percent of the dough from the starter. Bliss. It was creamy, (though the crumb was a little dense) had good crust and a bite. Brighter than SF sourdough, and a slow finish. It was repeatable. I have a batch in the garage right now, and will be making some to take to Barry when we head to L.A. this weekend.
The lasagne. Vegetarian. I like veggies, but regrettably the popular ones and I don't agree. Spinach? Wonderful if raw, a potent emtetic if I try to swallow it cooked. Broccoli? Nope. Eggplant? Foul.
So, to make a veggie lasagne I use capers, olives, and tomatoes. Line the pan with dry noodles (most sauces are fairly wet, the sauce will get to at least 180, and then the starches will absorb the excess liquid and you get done noodles, and no watery slop on the plate.
Place a thinnish layer of sauce on the noodles.
Take some ricotta (you may substitue cottage cheese, or stretch it, should your taste; or budget demand it. You may smoothen it, and mellow the flavor with marscapone. You can sharpen the flavor with assagio, romano or [what I do] with ricotta you have bought some weeks in advance and allowed to rest in the fridge), and mix it with dried oregano, and fresh marjoram. Rosemary if that suits your fancy (I find it starts to get too complicated, and muddy, sort of like a medieval meat pie, but that's just me) and spread the mix on the sauce.
Layer on some small capers.
Repeat the noodles, sauce, cheese (if you want to make your own pasta, lasagne is a wonderful dish for it, because one need not use a machine. A rolling pin and a wooden board is perfect. A charming benefit is the noodle sheets can be made to fit the pan, one layer, one noodle). This time add chopped olives (black, green, kalamata, picholine, sicilian, niçoise, whatever takes your fancy. The sauce can be adjusted to suit the olives, just recall the capers will be a bright, and astringent note).
A layer of noodles (if you are using dried, press them down between layers) sauce cheese, etc..
Keep doing this up to the top of the pan. Leave at least 1/4 inch (and a half is best) to pour in a lot of sauce, so the edges of the noodles don't burn in the oven.
About twenty minutes before it's done, toss on the mozzarella (or, for a more punguent layer, provolone). For fresh, chop it small, or aged/mass, grate it.
The first course was a soup.
Take some olive oil, get it hot. Into this toss some cubed potatoes; peeled. Cook them until they make a slight fond, but don't let them brown. While this is going on, add an onion, chopped small.
When the fond gets a little more defined, add a couple of cups each of chopped celery and carrots (you may grate the carrots if you choose, but I just slice them thin). Let them sauté for a couple of minutes.
Just as they are finishing, place about a quarter cup of tomato paste in the hot spot of the pot (It's got to be a big pot, I use my 12" dutch oven) and let it heat through. In a cooler part of the pot, place some crushed garlic. When the garlic starts to brown, add 4 qt.s hot water (you can set it to simmer on a back burner, it has to heat up anyway, so you aren't wasting energy).
Toss in some bay leaves (not less than two, nor more than four) and some piece of parmagian rind.
Cover and let sit on high simmer until the potatoes are disolved.
It can be served as is, or turned into any number of soups. It's a great base for minestrone. Black pepper, (or some warm/hot peppers to taste) will give it some bite.
That was last week.
This week I was lazier. I made a mulligatawny. Took some veggie and chicken stock from the freezer. Added 1 1/2 lbs dried peas (I couldn't find brown and yellow dal [which are varieties of lentils] so I made do).
Simmer, stirring on occasion to keep the bottom from scorching.
Add curry powder, turmeric and cumin. I wanted it to be more yellow, so I powdered some saffron and added it.
Monday I made a large loaf of flattish bread. Sliced the top off (so it was mostly flat, and about two-inches thick). It had been par-baked and, after scalping, I put it in a 375F oven to finish, and start to toast.
The plan was Welsh Rarebit.
In a pan I put some cream and butter (if making dairy sauces, start with cream, even when milk is the end point, because cream won't scorch, you can dilute later; though this recipe doesn't call for it).
That's when I discovered I had no worcestershire. No problem. Some soy, a dash of nam pla and a splach of balsamic, good to go. Some seeded mustard with horseradish and then the cubed cheese (about 3/4 of a lb) goes in, slowly at first and stir until it's smooth and thick.
Open the oven, ladle it on the bread, and put it on the high shelf, with the oven on broil. Five minutes later (which a pleasant freckling of toasted brown cheesey spots, it comes out.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 10:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 10:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 10:50 pm (UTC)On the other hand, I can make up eight lbs. of dough and make smaller loaves.
If you want... I can make a bagel of about one third that size, but I've pots large enough to boil one larger than that.
TK
no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 10:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 11:01 pm (UTC)Into the oven at 550F, with a large (probably a tad too large) splash into the steam pan, and two tosses of water to the side.
Repeat side tossing at one minute intervals, twice.
Drop temp to 425F for about 15 minutes, rotate 180 degrees.
Drop temp to 350F for about 25 minutes. Check.
Was about 170F internal, so return to oven at 350F for another ten minutes.
Tested at 185F, so remove and cool.
TK
no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 10:52 pm (UTC)*goes to CostCo for a metric tonne of cream cheese*
no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 10:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 11:40 pm (UTC)Love Reinhart's books. But I somehow missed the existence of Breadbaker's Apprentice (picture above makes more sense now ;-) must get a copy.
Congrats on the new bowl (and the wonderful presentation). I have a ginormous light stainless steel one, but it's all utility and no romance.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-28 12:23 am (UTC)Zhaneel
no subject
Date: 2005-10-28 04:46 am (UTC)And I have been trying to make it easier to follow along at home.
It's rare that I post a recipe proper, which isn't the kindest thing, but I do try to make the procedures as transparent as possible.
I hate recipes where one discovers, when it's too late, that some essential piece of preparation (which takes time) has to have been done before "x" where "x" is the moment immediately to hand.
Not quite such a big deal here, since I doubt anyone is printing these out and trying to cook from them, but still a right pain in the butt.
TK
no subject
Date: 2005-10-28 12:45 am (UTC)Happy anniversary to you and Maia. How's the new equine settling in?
no subject
Date: 2005-10-28 04:44 am (UTC)Maia has a rope burn from Rodi (pronounced Rudy, there might be a diacritical mark, and I'm sure we're butchering the proper pronunciation; quite apart from chopping the first half of his name off; it's Icelandic, after all) pulling away from her on the trail yesterday.
She's training him to pony.
TK
no subject
Date: 2005-10-28 05:26 am (UTC)I usually get her jewelery, and often set if up so the delivery is, in some way, clever; I've done the set-up, and then later delivery a couple of times.
Have to think of something really clever for next year, just so I'm less predictable.
Maybe a new horse.
TK
no subject
Date: 2005-10-28 12:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-28 05:24 am (UTC)If you ask me it's a lousy shot of her.
TK
no subject
Date: 2005-10-28 04:00 am (UTC)Not a great photo of Maia, caught between moments of vivacity, and most of the book titles & author names are impossible to read (of _course_ I tried) on my monitor, but you caught the bread nicely... which was the point of the exercise. I envy your /f/o/o/l/h/a/r/d/i/n/e/s/s/ bravery in tackling the baking of such a massive loaf, even in toroidal form. I'd have found it as terrifying as approaching a fine new 4-point Hudson's Bay blanket with a pair of scissors, to make a capote (or an Indian-tanned elkhide to make a war-shirt or jacket). But then, I'd hardly think of making anything larger than a standard-size loaf in my dinky & decrepit oven, and it's been years since I've done that much. *sigh*
Ummm... is there any reason a Kitchen Aid (or other bread-making/dough-hook machine) couldn't be used to process smallish batches, to be combined, with a little hand-kneading, into a Very Large Loaf, if one should be so inclined?
Thanks for disseminating the information that sourdough bread can be rendered properly sour by aging a large portion of recently-fed starter or sponge for three or four days to allow the lactic-acid bacteria to develop. The results (as I recall) are far superior to adding a few spoonsful of vinegar to the dough.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-28 04:42 am (UTC)I did, for vanities sake, manage to prick up the contrast of the teapot in the upper right.
Re the Kitchenaid: yes, one can merge the smaller loaves. It would be work (I suspect I'd need to make three batches) because the merging of the smaller chunks takes time and energy. I suspect I'd save about half, perhaps as much as 2/3rds the time.
There is an event I'm going to in three weeks, which might be worth the effort.
That loaf is as big as I can make. The toroid makes it possible to do it without having to go for a dark brown toast on the crust. The limit isn't the oven, but rather the stone.
re the vinegar: Maia's mother says to do that. I'm going south this weekend with a couple of loaves of three day starter. It's not quite as good as four, but I forgot to plan ahead. I'll put off the making until the last moment.
TK
no subject
Date: 2005-10-28 08:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-28 09:48 pm (UTC)Porn
Date: 2005-10-29 07:54 am (UTC)I am usually not interested in food porn. I glance at your writings and love your passion for food, but I never took interest in cooking.
But that loaf looks so good.
Bread, is probably one of the things I have to learn how to make before I die.
I love bread. You break bread with friends and guests, it is made by almost all cultures (one way or another) and its filling. Even prisoners and the enemy is not deprived of bread.
Congrats!!!
no subject
Date: 2005-10-29 02:40 pm (UTC)She had bought me lingerie (for those who don't know, a guy buys a woman lingerie, because he wants her to wear it).
My husband is fond of referring to those gifts as "giftwrap".
Belated congrats on the anniversary.
DV
no subject
Date: 2005-11-14 10:36 am (UTC)