Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts

Thursday, March 03, 2011

Just a Happy Post

Flowers for me from J on Valentine's.  He knows I don't really like roses, at least the long stem variety.

J and Ruby Begonia, my professor's dog, whom we took care of (and his amazing house) for the week.

Bountiful food for a party we had for J and our New Haven friends.
More on the chocolate cake and the panna cotta in the far back next post!

Monday, February 14, 2011

Happy Valentine's!

Peanut butter and raspberry jam cookie - I made some for J's arrival.  Today I plan on reading an ancient Greek romance novel by the fire, taking Ruby, the dog we're taking care of, for a walk, and going out to dinner for tapas.  A good day.

Friday, July 30, 2010

Feasting: Last Meals in Heidelberg

We've had some fantastic German food here in Heidelberg.  Let's reminisce:

A traditional Bavarian Weisswurst breakfast. At Zum Franziskaner.

Traditional Palatinate blood sausage and liver Knödel, always with buttery potatoes. At Kulturbrauerei.

Lots of wonderful beers: zum Wohl!

One of my favorite ways to spend a Saturday: hike to the monastery and eat fresh cheese, bread, and olives there in the open air.

But I've got to say that my favorite German thing to eat here is Schweinshaxe: roast crackling pork knuckle - 
the one above is at one of our favorite restaurants, Vetter, served with sauerkraut, Semmelknödel, and mustard.

As you can see, this ain't for the weak of heart - or the weak of stomach.  I will miss all this hearty goodness.  But we still have this weekend in Munich!  Let's see what they have on offer there...

Friday, July 23, 2010

Feasting: Lunch in Sevilla's Barrio Santa Cruz

Baked cod with muscat grapes

Unfortunately, I don't remember the name of the restaurant, but I remember that it was right on the edge of the Santa Cruz neighborhood in Sevilla (maybe along  La Avenida de Menéndez Pelayo, but I'm not sure anymore).  Anyway, my sister and I stopped in this bright bistro-like restaurant for an amazing tapas lunch.

Spinach with chickpeas and garlic

Tomato and mozzarella "napoleon"

Fritto misto - including calalmari, sardines, and cod

And then we took a stroll before the day got too hot (we ducked indoors everyday in Seville at 2 or 3 in the afternoon).  The residents of the Barrio Santa Cruz say it's always 10°F cooler there because of the whitewashed, thick walls and narrow streets.  I wouldn't say it was cool, but the little streets were definitely a welcome relief from the sun-baked thoroughfares near the cathedral.  And they make a lovely labyrinth to wander through...

with niches for mini-altars,

small plazas with citron trees and tinkling fountains,

past old doors, hiding cool, dark secrets.

Here's to a mellow, breezy summer weekend!

Monday, July 12, 2010

Making: Mazapán in Toledo

June has come and gone - an altogether crazy month for me.  I managed to take (and pass!) my qualifying exam and stop over in five different countries in four weeks . . . something I probably won't do again.  I'm not complaining - I know I've been thoroughly spoiled in having the opportunity to see and experience so many different places.  The last two weeks of my travels I spent with my sister, wandering through Spain, one tiny, meandering, hot, and colorful street at a time.  Don't you just love the hydrangeas and colored tiles of that balcony above?  We found that on a little random street in Toledo.  But I said this post was going to be about mazapán, and so it shall.

Mazapán is the Spanish version of marzipan, made of sugar and finely ground almonds.  I'm holding a couple Toledan mazapán confections baked either plain (left) or with fruit perserves (right).  Toledo's mazapán is famous, and it can be bought at virtually any street corner in that beautiful little city-on-a-hill. 

Nuns are often the artisans behind the little confections, as this little diorama in a storefront shows.  Actually, nun-made-sweets were a theme on our trip through Andalusia: there were many convents that offered sweets for sale.

This is a sign we found on the walls outside a Franciscan convent.

And there's the door you'd knock on to purchase some sweets!  We found this to be the case also in Madrid, Granada, Córdoba, and Sevilla.  Sometimes you had to ring a buzzer and give the password, dulces, to be let in for a purchase.  Other times you could just buy nun-made-sweets pre-packaged at a confection shop.

 This, my friends, is a detail on a mini-cathedral made entirely of mazapán.  The cathedral was on display at a Santo Tomé shop - one of a couple in Toledo.  If you're ever in Toledo, I'd recommend buying a box from Santo Tomé.  Their mazapán is excellent and always beautifully boxed for travel.

A dragon crafted of mazapán in a handy tin in a Santo Tomé shop.  Of course I packed a few sweets to take home myself!

Wednesday, May 05, 2010

Making, Wandering, and Feasting: May Festival at the Neuberg Abbey

This last Saturday we celebrated May Day at an abbey nestled in the grassy hills of Neuberg.  It all seemed so magical: here I was, in Germany, going to a Maifest with monks! Beer! A spitted ox!  It was so Christian and pagan all at once - we were inviting the new spring to come in but doing it all in a sanctioned cloister of godly men.  (I was less interested in attending the festivities for Walpurgis the night before - it basically involves tramping up the Philosophenweg at the dead of night, which would be great fun except that in this instance you'd be surrounded by drunken university students carrying fake torches.  If it were more pagan, and less drunken-college-party, I would go.)  Anyway!  The abbey grounds were indeed lovely.

 It was a pearly, gray day, and the walk there was nice and refreshing.

The monks run a shop full of local products, many of them made at the abbey.

Fresh eggs!  The eggs in Heidelberg, in general, seem fresher: the yolks are a brighter color, the shells often have a bit of down stuck on them.  It may not mean anything, but it seems a bit closer to the earth to me.

I am a weak-kneed fool when it comes to bottles and jars of handmade goodies.  Witness that I have 1) my own homemade strawberry-rhubarb jam at home as well as 2) unfinished jars of quince and plum preserves from a local restaurant.  So what did I do?  Promptly bought a jar of apple-ginger jelly.  Good thing I am not a drinker or I would have made off with a few bottles of monk-brewed apple brandy and what-not.

We were promised a whole spitted ox (it said so in the adverts) but we apparently arrived too late: the earlier May Day revelers had gnawed that thing to the bone!  Though I must say, this is a small ox.  "Must have been a baby ox," I remarked, to which my friend said, "Please don't say that again!"

Never mind, we had excellent roast trout and potatoes,


we watched the monks imbibe,

and did some imbibing ourselves (along with some Feuerwurst and pretzels).

And the walk home in the twilight, along the river, was lovely.



Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Daring Bakers: Traditional British Pudding!

I happen to be a big, big fan of British cookery, so when this month's Daring Bakers challenge was announced I was ecstatic!  I'd made a traditional Christmas pudding before, as well as Spotted Dick, so I thought this time I'd go for a good ol' steak and kidney pudding.  Except without the kidney.  They hadn't any where I shop and my two flatmates (yes, Britishisms all around today) aren't super keen on them.

Anyway, on to the deets: The April 2010 Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Esther of The Lilac Kitchen. She challenged everyone to make a traditional British pudding using, if possible, a very traditional British ingredient: suet. 

Also could not find suet (my translation into German was Talg or Rindertalg) but I could find lots of lard!

In a land filled with 1,000,000 varieties of pork of course there would be lard! or Schmalz, as they say.  Ever wonder where we get "schmaltzy"?  Here you are.  Of course, in the Yiddish sense, we would be referring to chicken fat or lard.

This is grated lard.  The lard, as you can imagine, has to be quite chilled to do this or you will come to a greasy, sad end.  Even chilled, I was covered in lard.  My camera puts up with a lot of foodstuffs.

Unfilled puddings.  The dough is quite soft and very fatty.  The entire time I was rolling out these mini-pies I thought, "It smells like fried chicken!" Just that perfect fatty, crispy, flaky smell.  These are filled with floured cubes of chuck-steak (Rinderbraten - okay, why I am translating everything into German for you is strange, since you are probably not German - maybe it is to show you how hard I have to work! poor, poor me) and onions - see first pic.

Then a mixture of oyster sauce, water, and port (or red wine) is poured into the shells up until they almost cover the meat and onion filling.

The dough "cap" is moistened all around the edges and pinched in.  I love this process.  This is why I love baking pies.  Because I like tucking things into dough.  Strange, I know, but I find this so, so gratifying.

Now this is where I failed to photo-document my process, probably because I was making three mini pies instead of one big one and feeling quite harumph-y about it by now.  But this is when one must wrap the tops of the puddings with buttered foil (or dish cloth) and tie with twine right under the lip of the bowl.  Then one must make a handle with twine so that one can lower it and lift it out of the steaming water and stay un-scalded.  I steamed mine (in boiling water just above the half-way point of the bowls) for four hours.  Clitter-clatter, clitter-clatter.  For four hours.

Oh, but so worth it.  Suet (or, in my case, lard) pastry can be so light and flaky, even steamed and boiled!

I poured in some gravy made from port, beef drippings, onions, and oyster sauce. 

Recipe - I borrowed this from Audax Artifex, champion Daring Baker.
The following makes a 1 litre pudding, I made about 1 1/2 times the recipe for 3 little puddings.

Ingredients
For the suet crust pastry
225g/8 oz self-raising flour
salt and freshly milled black pepper
115 g/4 oz shredded beef suet
cold water, to mix

For the filling
380g/13 ½ ozs chuck steak
115g/4oz ox kidney after trimming (so buy extra about 15%)
3 tablespoon of oyster sauce and enough red dry wine to make a little over ½ cup
4 teaspoon plain flour, seasoned with salt and freshly ground black pepper


For the gravy
meat trimmings from the steak and kidney
1 onion, halved
570ml/1 pint red wine
1 tsp beef dripping
2 tbsp flour
1 tablespoon of oyster sauce

You will also need a well-buttered, 1 litre/1 US quart capacity pudding basin and a steamer.

Method
For the pastry, first sift the flour and the salt into a large mixing bowl. Add some freshly ground black pepper, then add the suet and mix it into the flour using the blade of a knife. When it's evenly blended, add a few drops of cold water and start to mix with the knife, using curving movements and turning the mixture around. The aim is to bring it together as a dough, so keep adding drops of water until it begins to get really claggy and sticky. Now abandon the knife, go in with your hands and bring it all together until you have a nice smooth elastic dough, which leaves the bowl clean. It's worth noting that suet pastry always needs more water than other types, so if it is still a bit dry just go on adding a few drops at a time.

After that, take a quarter of the dough for the lid, then roll the rest out fairly thickly. What you need is a circle, about 21.5 cm/8½ in in diameter. Now line the bowl with the pastry, pressing it well all around. Next chop the steak and kidney into fairly small cubes (reserving the trimmings for the gravy), toss them in the seasoned flour, then add them to the pastry-lined basin with the slices of onion. Add enough oyster sauce/red wine/water to reach almost the top of the meat and sprinkle in a few drops of Worcestershire sauce and another seasoning of salt and pepper.

Roll out the pastry lid, dampen its edges and put it in position on the pudding. Seal well and cover with a double sheet of foil, pleated in the centre to allow room for expansion while cooking. Now secure it with string, making a little handle so that you can lift it out of the hot steamer. Then place it in a steamer over boiling water. Steam for five hours, topping up the boiling water halfway through. (See more detailed instructions below.)

For the gravy, simply place the meat trimmings in a saucepan with the half onion, cover with one pint of red wine and 1 tablespoon oyster sauce, simmer for approximately one hour. Then strain the stock, and in the same pan, fry the remaining onion, chopped small, in the beef dripping until soft and blackened at the edges. Then stir in the flour, gradually add the meat trimmings/red wine/oyster sauce stock little by little to make a smooth gravy, adding a spot of gravy browning if it's needed. Taste to check the seasoning.

When the pudding is ready place a small hole in the top of the pudding and pour in as much of the gravy as you can.

To serve, either serve the pudding by spooning portions straight out of the bowl, or slide a palette knife round the edge and turn the whole thing out on to a serving plate (which is more fun!).


Instructions for Prepping for Steaming


The easiest way to steam a pudding is in a dedicated steamer as the water is kept away from the pudding so it can’t boil over. If, however, you don’t have a steamer use a pan large enough to easily fit the bowl you are cooking. Don’t fill the water more than about a third of the way up the bowl or it may boil over and into the bowl. Keep an eye and top up as needed with boiling water.

You need to lift the bowl off the bottom of the pan. This can be done with a steamer stand, an upturned plate or even crumpled up kitchen foil — anything that can stand being in boiling water and lifts the bowl off the bottom of the pan will work.

Make sure you have a well-fitted lid on the pan as you want the steam to cook the pudding not to boil off.
Make sure you put a pleat in the foil or paper you cover the bowl with to allow for expansion and then tie down tightly with string.  Make a handle made from the string that lies over the top of the pudding, as this makes it very much easier to lift out when hot and is well worth doing.

Friday, April 23, 2010

Feasting: Prize Winning Noodles!

There is nothing like a steaming bowl of beef noodle soup, the slightly spicy, flavorful, and rich broth, the tender chunks of meat, the hearty noodles.  The competition for the title of best beef noodle soup in Taiwan is intense, and the winner of the official 2006 island-wide competition for beef noodle soup was Lao Zhang.  It is well deserved.

The trophy is up for display outside of the restaurant, No. 19, Lane 19, Jin Shan Road, Taipei.

But noodles aren't all they do well at Lao Zhang.  This is their sticky steamed rice with lots of goodies embedded in its glorious golden-brown depths.  Chinese fatty sausage, soft stewed beef, and tripe.  Oh the goodness!

There are also many wonderfully prepared sides to choose from - here, from left to right, pickled turnip, crisp baby cucumbers in sweet rice vinegar, and (my favorite) roasted and fried eggplant.

I've yet to have a bowl of beef noodle soup this perfect in the States - maybe I'm not looking hard enough.  But, if you find yourself in Taiwan, this is the place to go.

Friday, April 16, 2010

Feasting: Of Pâté and Quail Eggs

We were supposed to show up at the professor's apartment after the lecture for cocktails before going out for dinner.  Unfortunately, the lecture ran long, so cocktail hour was skipped.  After dinner, the professor slipped this bag into my hand: "I really can't be eating this rich food - so here's a doggy bag for you."  "Doggy bag" is probably the most inappropriate term for the contents of that parcel: three enormous slices of pâté and a tiny carton of hard-boiled quail eggs.  These were to have been eaten with the drinks before dinner.

Now I know that pâté is not the most photogenic thing - and I am definitely not a food stylist - but I had to show you the three different kinds of pâté I was given.  Two with morsels of meat en gelée and one of pure pâté goodness.

Quail eggs just taste richer, creamier, and denser than chicken eggs.  And the fact that they are so dainty and their shells so beautiful - just look at the pale mint green on the inside of speckled brown! - that they are a delight to eat.

And, really, I have a thing for eggs, overall.   This was gastronomic kindness at its greatest.