Rob made candied yams today, with orange in it. The recipe asks for a lot of sugar, which he cut, but the orange juice came from a large orange, that is apparenlty South African, since they are not in season here. Please don't talk to me about food that is grown more than 100km away from home. That is not a topic to discuss today.
The oranges were beautiful. So utterly orange. The zest and juice had an amazingly bright flavour. The yams were cooked in orange sauce in the oven. Delicious.
The other day, my daughter announced she had to bake cookies for a contest amongst her friends. They were standing around, boasting about who made the best cookies, and she said to me, "I just had to get involved!"
So we were allowed to discuss it with her all weekend, but she made the final decision on ingredients, methodology and clean up! She said she had to do it from start to finish, including cleaning up. This made me very happy.
She chose to use the classic Tollhouse Chocolate Chip Cookie recipe, but instead of semi-sweet chips, she carefully cut a bunch of white chocolate chunks in half to make them the right size, and added the zest of one of those wonderful oranges. She laboured long and hard. She shaped them all herself and made 3 batches, each with slightly different baking times, so she could choose the ones with the best texture.
Rob felt they were on the sweet side, but everyone else loved them. I generally prefer softer, chewy cookies, but the crunchy ones were great. A glass of milk made them taste even better. The younger brother ate all the rejects - and there were quite a few, so he didn't feel so well later.
So what happened? She won the contest, although in the end there was only one other contestant. The teacher got to decide. More cookies were shared out to the rest of the class so everyone was happy. This may be the start of a number of bake-offs. They seem to be a competitive bunch at school. If that's the case, I will start charging for ingredients, just to keep this all under control. We shall see.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
Family Dinner Reprised with Chiffon Cake
Recently, we went back for another dinner at Mom's. Not a holiday meal, so no celebratory overtones. The parent's household consists of Mom and Pop and my brother with wife and kids. They also have a housekeeper who started with them recently.
'Ha,' I thought, 'I will bake a coffee chiffon cake since coffee is so popular, and give them no choices!'
"But Mommy," said my daughter, "I thought a coffee cake didn't have coffee in it!" So there were a few explanations about a coffee cake with coffee in it versus a coffee cake to have with coffee. Why is life so complicated?
Rob brewed me an extra strong cup of coffee which I left to cool. I like my eggs to come to room temperature if possible. If I am in a rush, I put them in a bowl of warm water, straight from the fridge.
One thing I find invaluable when separating a large number of eggs is my trusty egg separator. I bought it when I was a teenager and rescued it back from my mother long after I married. Since I like to use those omega 3 eggs, the shells are very brittle and the shards are very sharp, easily poking through the yolk sack and breaking it; a problem when you are trying to get as much white to separate so you get a fluffy, tall cake.
The other device I love so much is my Kitchen Aid stand mixer. The egg whites really do beat up higher than with the hand held mixer. And I can leave it alone to do the job while I attend to the yolk batter. This speeds up chiffon cake making incredibly for me, and I'm pretty fast.
The most important instruction to follow is the sifting of the flour. I prefer using cake flour and I sift it first with a sieve, and then measure it. I've tried all kinds of cake sifters, and the sieve does a better job. If I am feeling very energetic, I will sift the flour, sugar and baking powder again after I've measured the ingredients. Sometimes I will sift it a third time, especially if I have to make do with all purpose flour.
All the cookbooks talk about folding technique. For me, folding the batter with the egg whites is much easier if the bowl is closer to waist level, not at the countertop. If there is no alternative, I will put the bowl in the sink. Otherwise, one tends to stir as the arm gets tired when crooked at an odd angle because the bowl is too high. The one advantage of the countertop is that if I fold the batter until I feel like my arm will fall off, it's about the right amount of mixing. At a lower height, I actually have to look at the batter more carefully to see if it's properly integrated.
The oven should be well and truly preheated. Turn it on at least a half hour beforehand if possible. I also use the rack which is a touch closer to the bottom of the oven than the one which is right in the middle of the oven. This makes sense since the cake is so tall that it's really on the high side if you put the bottom of the pan at the centre. And that rule about not opening the oven door until the cake is almost done is also a good one to follow. Oh, and turning the cake upside down when it comes out.
In the end, a chiffon cake is mostly following the rules. It's one of those cakes which simply work best if you don't cut too many corners and do it classically. It's surprisingly easy to make once you realize that's all you have to do: follow the instructions.
Well the chiffon cake won them over. Everyone liked it. As successive slices wore away the upstanding cake, it looked more tired and stooped. "I could eat this cake all night!" declared the housekeeper. She pinched a small piece from the cake and it quivered. She reached over and pinched it again. The cake shook hard. She reached again...
I couldn't watch. I had to leave. I don't know what happened to the cake remains - surely, she eventually put it out of its misery. The sheer violence of the housekeeper's thumb and forefinger, grasping at that tender, fluffy tower as it swayed to her torture caused my heart to palpitate. Why didn't the woman simply cut herself a slice and put it on a plate?
Well, perhaps I will go back to trifles for the next holiday. There is nothing pitiful about trifle remains. They scream, "Eat me!" And so we do.
'Ha,' I thought, 'I will bake a coffee chiffon cake since coffee is so popular, and give them no choices!'
"But Mommy," said my daughter, "I thought a coffee cake didn't have coffee in it!" So there were a few explanations about a coffee cake with coffee in it versus a coffee cake to have with coffee. Why is life so complicated?
Rob brewed me an extra strong cup of coffee which I left to cool. I like my eggs to come to room temperature if possible. If I am in a rush, I put them in a bowl of warm water, straight from the fridge.
One thing I find invaluable when separating a large number of eggs is my trusty egg separator. I bought it when I was a teenager and rescued it back from my mother long after I married. Since I like to use those omega 3 eggs, the shells are very brittle and the shards are very sharp, easily poking through the yolk sack and breaking it; a problem when you are trying to get as much white to separate so you get a fluffy, tall cake.
The other device I love so much is my Kitchen Aid stand mixer. The egg whites really do beat up higher than with the hand held mixer. And I can leave it alone to do the job while I attend to the yolk batter. This speeds up chiffon cake making incredibly for me, and I'm pretty fast.
The most important instruction to follow is the sifting of the flour. I prefer using cake flour and I sift it first with a sieve, and then measure it. I've tried all kinds of cake sifters, and the sieve does a better job. If I am feeling very energetic, I will sift the flour, sugar and baking powder again after I've measured the ingredients. Sometimes I will sift it a third time, especially if I have to make do with all purpose flour.
All the cookbooks talk about folding technique. For me, folding the batter with the egg whites is much easier if the bowl is closer to waist level, not at the countertop. If there is no alternative, I will put the bowl in the sink. Otherwise, one tends to stir as the arm gets tired when crooked at an odd angle because the bowl is too high. The one advantage of the countertop is that if I fold the batter until I feel like my arm will fall off, it's about the right amount of mixing. At a lower height, I actually have to look at the batter more carefully to see if it's properly integrated.
The oven should be well and truly preheated. Turn it on at least a half hour beforehand if possible. I also use the rack which is a touch closer to the bottom of the oven than the one which is right in the middle of the oven. This makes sense since the cake is so tall that it's really on the high side if you put the bottom of the pan at the centre. And that rule about not opening the oven door until the cake is almost done is also a good one to follow. Oh, and turning the cake upside down when it comes out.
In the end, a chiffon cake is mostly following the rules. It's one of those cakes which simply work best if you don't cut too many corners and do it classically. It's surprisingly easy to make once you realize that's all you have to do: follow the instructions.
Well the chiffon cake won them over. Everyone liked it. As successive slices wore away the upstanding cake, it looked more tired and stooped. "I could eat this cake all night!" declared the housekeeper. She pinched a small piece from the cake and it quivered. She reached over and pinched it again. The cake shook hard. She reached again...
I couldn't watch. I had to leave. I don't know what happened to the cake remains - surely, she eventually put it out of its misery. The sheer violence of the housekeeper's thumb and forefinger, grasping at that tender, fluffy tower as it swayed to her torture caused my heart to palpitate. Why didn't the woman simply cut herself a slice and put it on a plate?
Well, perhaps I will go back to trifles for the next holiday. There is nothing pitiful about trifle remains. They scream, "Eat me!" And so we do.
Monday, October 11, 2010
The Kids Turned Down My Jello Creation; A Squash Soup Dinner.
As Thanksgiving meals go, there was too much yummy food and a bunch of boisterous kids. I brought dessert. 'Ah ha!' I thought to myself, I will be the extra popular aunt, because I will bring a fancy Jello creation for the children, and coffee trifle for the adults, and everyone will be happy.
Well, there was an argument with the daughter first, about which colour jello I was allowed to use. "But," I said, "It would look better if I used the red jello with the green and yellow!" She pouted, "No! All the red berry flavours belong together!" I was distracted, so I agreed to use the orange jello in place of red.
So. We all know how to make jello, right? I very lightly greased a round glass bowl, and made green jello. Then after some fussing, Rob suggested the silicone spatula (non-skid) to prop up the bottom of the bowl, so I could tilt it while the jello set, getting an angled line. I sprinkled marshmallows on top. After a few hours, I looked at it, and there was a fine, grainy powdery looking substance on the bottom of the bowl. The marshmallows had shed and my green jello had white murky streaks. 'Looks kind of cool,' I thought. The yellow was next, with the bowl upright, leaving a small wedge of green sticking up beyond it. This was eventually covered with the orange, which set into a lovely, glassy surface. I triumphantly covered it with plastic wrap, dreaming of accolades from the adults. Happy begging from the children. "More!" they would shout, "We LOVE your jello creation. PLEASE, give us more!"
Meanwhile, I threw together the coffee trifle. I made a vanilla custard with low fat milk and omega 3 eggs (whole), some cornstarch and sugar. Once it had thickened, I added vanilla extract and Tia Maria liqueur and covered it directly on the surface with plastic wrap. This gets rid of the 'skin'. When everything was cool, I folded it with whipped cream. In a glass pan I covered the bottom with savoiardi biscuits dipped in strong coffee. Layered with the custard cream, I was done. Into the refridgerator overnight and that was that. It took very little time.
I showed off my beautiful jello in a bowl to everyone before dinner. "The orange kind of blends into the yellow and it's hard to tell the layers," said Rob. Well, what can I expect from someone who is married to me? "What are those weird white lumps in the jello?" asked my niece. At least she was happy to find out they were marshmallows.
After two tries, the jello wiggled and jiggled and came out, more or less intact. Rob had earlier taught me the importance of breaking the seal but I was unsuccessful the first try, so the jello tore slightly. Immediately, I was surrounded with eager children with plates and spoons. They all wanted to try the jello! They were so happy! I was so happy! A few kids did point out the yellow and orange were hard to tell apart, even after it came out of the mold, but what did they know?
I gave some jello to my mother, who promptly said, "I don't like green, so don't give me too much green!" Fortunately the angles worked in her favour I gave her very little. Then I pulled out the coffee trifle, and offered her some too. There was a pause in the noise. I looked around me. I was surrounded by munchkins all holding out their plates. "We want to try the coffee thing too!" they said. So I grudgingly spooned very small amounts onto their plates. "You won't sleep at night if you have too much. There's coffee in it," I said.
I began to move towards the adults, only to find myself confronted by plates held up at my waist level. "It's really good, we want more!" they joyfully cried. "But don't you want more jello?" I asked them. "No, the trifle is MUCH better!" The children chased me around the kitchen all the way to the adult table. They fought over how much I gave out and squawked long and loudly if they felt unfairly treated. The adults also enjoyed the coffee trifle. There was barely enough. I had to guard the trifle against small hands and arms, reaching for more, more!
Sadly, there was leftover jello. My brother said, "The kids will always go for taste over presentation!" I know he's wrong. The kids have always delighted in fun looking food, but no longer. They demand quality too. The next family gathering will require double trifles - strawberry and coffee. Bland looking dishes with nothing to recommend their appearance, until eaten. I will have to rethink my strategy in the future.
+++++++++++++++++
I wish to remember an amazing meal we had the other day, but I had no time to write about it. Rob makes squash soup in the fall and winter. He roasts butternut squash with onions and cooks it in chicken broth with seasonings - herbs we grow in the garden, usually sage. The he uses a hand blender to puree it.
On a blustery night, we had squash soup with sasquatch bread, toasted and buttered. The piece de resistance was the plate of gruyere and ementhal cheese Rob put out. I love the taste of gruyere, I love the taste of squash soup, and I love the taste of sasquatch bread. It is amazingly exciting all put together. If the soup is not sweet enough, Rob adds a little maple syrup. Just a little bit. Ahh.
Well, there was an argument with the daughter first, about which colour jello I was allowed to use. "But," I said, "It would look better if I used the red jello with the green and yellow!" She pouted, "No! All the red berry flavours belong together!" I was distracted, so I agreed to use the orange jello in place of red.
So. We all know how to make jello, right? I very lightly greased a round glass bowl, and made green jello. Then after some fussing, Rob suggested the silicone spatula (non-skid) to prop up the bottom of the bowl, so I could tilt it while the jello set, getting an angled line. I sprinkled marshmallows on top. After a few hours, I looked at it, and there was a fine, grainy powdery looking substance on the bottom of the bowl. The marshmallows had shed and my green jello had white murky streaks. 'Looks kind of cool,' I thought. The yellow was next, with the bowl upright, leaving a small wedge of green sticking up beyond it. This was eventually covered with the orange, which set into a lovely, glassy surface. I triumphantly covered it with plastic wrap, dreaming of accolades from the adults. Happy begging from the children. "More!" they would shout, "We LOVE your jello creation. PLEASE, give us more!"
Meanwhile, I threw together the coffee trifle. I made a vanilla custard with low fat milk and omega 3 eggs (whole), some cornstarch and sugar. Once it had thickened, I added vanilla extract and Tia Maria liqueur and covered it directly on the surface with plastic wrap. This gets rid of the 'skin'. When everything was cool, I folded it with whipped cream. In a glass pan I covered the bottom with savoiardi biscuits dipped in strong coffee. Layered with the custard cream, I was done. Into the refridgerator overnight and that was that. It took very little time.
I showed off my beautiful jello in a bowl to everyone before dinner. "The orange kind of blends into the yellow and it's hard to tell the layers," said Rob. Well, what can I expect from someone who is married to me? "What are those weird white lumps in the jello?" asked my niece. At least she was happy to find out they were marshmallows.
After two tries, the jello wiggled and jiggled and came out, more or less intact. Rob had earlier taught me the importance of breaking the seal but I was unsuccessful the first try, so the jello tore slightly. Immediately, I was surrounded with eager children with plates and spoons. They all wanted to try the jello! They were so happy! I was so happy! A few kids did point out the yellow and orange were hard to tell apart, even after it came out of the mold, but what did they know?
I gave some jello to my mother, who promptly said, "I don't like green, so don't give me too much green!" Fortunately the angles worked in her favour I gave her very little. Then I pulled out the coffee trifle, and offered her some too. There was a pause in the noise. I looked around me. I was surrounded by munchkins all holding out their plates. "We want to try the coffee thing too!" they said. So I grudgingly spooned very small amounts onto their plates. "You won't sleep at night if you have too much. There's coffee in it," I said.
I began to move towards the adults, only to find myself confronted by plates held up at my waist level. "It's really good, we want more!" they joyfully cried. "But don't you want more jello?" I asked them. "No, the trifle is MUCH better!" The children chased me around the kitchen all the way to the adult table. They fought over how much I gave out and squawked long and loudly if they felt unfairly treated. The adults also enjoyed the coffee trifle. There was barely enough. I had to guard the trifle against small hands and arms, reaching for more, more!
Sadly, there was leftover jello. My brother said, "The kids will always go for taste over presentation!" I know he's wrong. The kids have always delighted in fun looking food, but no longer. They demand quality too. The next family gathering will require double trifles - strawberry and coffee. Bland looking dishes with nothing to recommend their appearance, until eaten. I will have to rethink my strategy in the future.
+++++++++++++++++
I wish to remember an amazing meal we had the other day, but I had no time to write about it. Rob makes squash soup in the fall and winter. He roasts butternut squash with onions and cooks it in chicken broth with seasonings - herbs we grow in the garden, usually sage. The he uses a hand blender to puree it.
On a blustery night, we had squash soup with sasquatch bread, toasted and buttered. The piece de resistance was the plate of gruyere and ementhal cheese Rob put out. I love the taste of gruyere, I love the taste of squash soup, and I love the taste of sasquatch bread. It is amazingly exciting all put together. If the soup is not sweet enough, Rob adds a little maple syrup. Just a little bit. Ahh.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Cheese Souffle From Heaven
Tonight, Rob decided to make a plain cheese souffle. Most of the time, he will add spinach, or smoked salmon, or something else delicious. This time, we had some "Snowman" gruyere cheese I had inexplicably not eaten! I love gruyere cheese, and this was very good quality. A shame to waste on cooking.
The souffle was probably one of the best I have experienced. It puffed up wonderfully high since there was nothing else weighing it down. It smelled heavenly and tasted divine. I may even sacrifice a future chunk of my good gruyere in the future...
The children wanted a Ceasar salad. Nothing fancy here - plain romaine, bottled dressing and premade croutons. However Rob grated real reggiano for it, and one kid added lemon juice to the bottled dressing, and outside of the overabundance of croutons, it was actually pretty good. And the extra acid was a little nod to that GI thing.
We did not have dessert after such a decadent meal. But if we did, I wonder what it would have been?
The souffle was probably one of the best I have experienced. It puffed up wonderfully high since there was nothing else weighing it down. It smelled heavenly and tasted divine. I may even sacrifice a future chunk of my good gruyere in the future...
The children wanted a Ceasar salad. Nothing fancy here - plain romaine, bottled dressing and premade croutons. However Rob grated real reggiano for it, and one kid added lemon juice to the bottled dressing, and outside of the overabundance of croutons, it was actually pretty good. And the extra acid was a little nod to that GI thing.
We did not have dessert after such a decadent meal. But if we did, I wonder what it would have been?
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