Christmas 2010: Peeling Potatoes

Elizabeth and I headed to Williamsburg, Virginia for Christmas festivities with our mom and stepfather. Throughout the long weekend and near-blizzard we cooked up some perennial favorites, including swedish meatballs (above), shrimp “pate,” and broccoli strudel. Before any dishes were dirtied, we had some cocktails (of course). Liz’ favorite cocktail is something like a pared-down cosmo: equal parts vodka and cranberry juice, shaken and topped with sparkling wine.

Most of our family favorite comfort food recipes are yellowing magazine and newspaper clippings from the 1970s or from a vintage Calico Pantry Cookbook. A number of these recipes include margarine (gross).

Shrimp "Pate"

The shrimp pate–really a jellied shrimp dip based on Cream of Mushroom soup, celery and onions–has evolved with the times. The story goes something like this: there was a time when lump crab meat was cheap and available (Oh the glory!). As time passed it became less and less so, and one day, without warning, the crab of yore was replaced altogether with pasteurized crap. The real thing disappeared from Eastern Long Island grocery shelves (and freezers). Instead of abandoning the recipe, we substituted shrimp for crab. Sometimes we still call it crab dip, even though it’s been nearly 20 years since it’s seen a crab. It isn’t too pleasing to the eyes but it is really delicious.

Last year’s broccoli strudel was a bit too spicy for mom with its’ wild and crazy 1/8 teaspoon ground red pepper, so this year it was reduced to a paltry 1/16 teaspoon. Next year she vowed to return to the original proportion.

Broccoli Strudel

Makes 10 first-course servings
Source: Unknown

1/2 cup butter, divided
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon ground red pepper
1 1/4 cups milk
4 ounces Swiss or Gruyere cheese, shredded
1 10-ounce package frozen chopped broccoli, thawed and drained
1/2 pound phyllo
1/4 cup bread crumbs, divided

1. Melt 4 tablespoons butter in a 2-quart saucepan over low heat. Stir in flour, salt, and ground red pepper until blended. Gradually stir milk into mixture, and cook, stirring, until thickened and smooth. Stir in cheese and broccoli, and cook until cheese melts, stirring constantly. Remove from heat.
2. Melt 4 tablespoons butter in a small saucepan, and preheat oven to 375 degrees F.
3. Make a 20-by-12-inch rectangle of phyllo on waxed paper, brushing each sheet with reserved butter. Sprinkle with 1 tablespoon bread crumbs. Continue layering phyllo, brushing each sheet with butter and sprinkling bread crumbs on alternating layers.
4. Spread broccoli mixture evenly onto one long side of phyllo, covering about half the rectangle. Roll from broccoli-covered side, in jellyroll fashion.
5. Place roll, seam-side down, diagonally on a large rimmed baking sheet and brush with remaining butter. Bake 30 minutes or or until golden. Cool strudel 30 minutes on cookie sheet or wire rack before slicing.

The strudel can be made three or four ahead and refrigerated. Reheat at 375 degrees for 15 to 30 minutes.

Skip produces The Gourmetro. He’s mentioned broccoli in the last two posts but hardly ever eats it. Check out his published works on Aisle 9, and talk with him on Twitter.

Fresh out of bed, I was set on doing what I’d done the last few Sunday mornings: whip up buttermilk biscuits. Then I saw @writingherstory‘s tweet about  Lemon-Lavender scones, and was sufficiently intrigued. I went through the ingredient list and thought I’d give it a go even though was out of lemons and fat-free yogurt (well, to be honest I never really have fat-free yogurt).  Lime zest and juice, and homemade creme fraiche would perform well enough as stand-ins.

Coco’s recipe from her Roost blog was well-written and made a really kick-ass, tender scone. The glaze is sweet, limey and compliments the scone very well (the lime zest flavor did not come through in the scones themselves). I usually skip glazes, but this one was worth it. Please see my amendments below:

Lavender-Lime Scones

Makes 6 scones

Based on Coco’s Lemon Lavender Scones from Roost

• 2 cups unbleached all purpose flour
• 1/3 cup granulated sugar
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 2 tablespoons freshly grated lime zest
• 2 teaspoons finely chopped dried lavender
• 1/4 cup unsalted butter, cut into 1/4 inch chunks and chilled
• 1/2 cup homemade crème fraiche (or yogurt) (Crème Fraiche recipe here)
• 1/2 cup low-fat buttermilk
• 3/4 cup powdered sugar
• 2 tablespoons fresh lime juice

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper.

Mix first 5 ingredients in a food processor bowl. Add zest and 1 1/2 tsp of dried lavender, and pulse to mix. Add butter to dry ingredients, and pulse until butter chunks are pea-sized. Transfer mixture to a medium bowl.

Combine yogurt and buttermilk in a small bowl. Add to dry ingredients and mix with a wooden spoon until dough comes together.

Coat your hands with flour and pull dough out onto a well-floured surface. Knead dough for a minute, folding and flattening it several times. (The dough will remain quite moist.) Pat dough into a 9- x 4-inch rectangle, about 1 inch thick, and cut dough into 6 equal triangles.

Lift scones onto the prepared baking sheet and bake on center rack of oven for 15 to 18 minutes, or until golden brown. Cool scones on baking sheet for a few minutes and then transfer to a wire rack.

Glaze: Combine remaining 1 teaspoon lavender, powdered sugar and lime juice, and mix with a fork until smooth. Drizzle over warm scones.

Skip is the producer of The Gourmetro. He bakes on cloudy Sunday mornings. Read about his culinary travels through the South as Dan over at ‘Ham Sandwich, see his published works on Aisle 9, and talk with him on Twitter.

I have a lot of fond memories of these biscuits as an eight-year-old on humid summer days in my Dad’s kitchen, but I hadn’t picked up the recipe since 2005, when I began experimenting with it. Vegetable shortening was the first item on the list (I can hardly abide it). I started by reducing it to half-and-half butter and shortening , then all butter, then I got crazy and tried substituting olive oil. A lazy baker, I stopped rolling the dough and began producing oddly shaped drop biscuits. They had some flake, the familiar crumb and half the mess, but they weren’t the same.

Five years later with a quart of full-fat buttermilk in the fridge, I pulled out the old recipe. Looking it over, I saw some places I could improve on my Uncle Joe’s old biscuits. My food processor incorporated the butter and I patted out the dough by hand. That first all-butter batch was well-layered but greasy and flat. I fired up the oven again, and reduced the butter by 25 percent (leaving all other measurements alone). I processed that second batch less, froze the butter  beforehand, and was constantly conscious of how much I handled the dough.

The result? Damn good (if I must say so myself).

It is important to mind the buttermilk. Only add enough to bring the dough together. The amount will vary greatly depending on the milk’s fat content and the general humidity. Next time I will try refrigerating the dough 10 minutes before baking.

[March 7, 2010 UPDATE] Retried biscuits with reduced-fat buttermilk to find that it required about the same amount (3/4 cup). Reduced butter to 1/2 cup and added 1/4 cup vegetable shortening. The texture was slightly more tender, but not enough for me to switch from the all-butter. Cooking time increased dramatically. If using shortening, add 1/4 teaspoon salt. In fact, the recipe has been adjusted for slightly more salt.

[June 13, 2010 UPDATE] Biscuit recipe performed better in the winter. Lately, they haven’t been so hot. The butter’s fat leaks out while baking and haven’t come out as fluffy. I’ve tried all different types of butter, as well as grating it rather than processing. Yesterday I added a bit of baking soda to some success.

–

Buttermilk Biscuits

Adapted from Joe Kadlec’s recipe

Makes about 8 3-inch biscuits

• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 tablespoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon sea salt
• 1/4 teaspoon baking soda
• 3/4 cup butter
• 3/4 cup well-shaken buttermilk (up to 1 1/4 cup)

Pre-heat oven to 450 degrees and line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Cut butter into 1/2-inch chunks and freeze 5 to 10 minutes.

Mix dry ingredients. Add butter and process in a food processor until butter pats are pea-sized. Pour into a large bowl and add buttermilk, adding additional until dough just comes together.

Turn dough out onto a well-floured surface. Pat or roll into a 1/2-inch-thick disk and fold in half. Repeat rolling and patting once. Cut with a 3-inch glass or biscuit cutter, re-rolling scraps once.

Bake biscuits on prepared baking sheet 15 minutes or until golden brown.

Dan is the producer of ‘Ham Sandwich. Read about his cooking adventures as Skip on The Gourmetro and learn about him on aisle-9.net.

Chilton County peaches are one of the great benefits of living in Alabama. From early June through August, these sweet, drippingly juicy gems make life worth living. For the last few days I have eaten between two and five of them.Whole, sliced, diced, and pureed, with yogurt, thinly sliced prosciutto, and au natural, they are hard to beat.

From my temporary beach office at Seaside, Florida, I pureed four of them for a quick bellini. Since I make them strong, like my mimosas, I used those four peaches with a half-bottle of prosecco with nothing but a mint garnish.

These peaches are pure magic.

Check out my other site, ‘Ham Sandwich, if you want more on the beachy wonderland that is Seaside, Florida.

Skip produces The Gourmetro and is based in Birmingham, Alabama. He also produces ‘Ham Sandwich and Aisle-9.net.

Bread is not for the dabbler. At least in my mind, the sponges, starters, and not least, the yeast aren’t terribly friendly to the uninitiated. I have recently worked around bakers and it really made me want to come home to freshly baked bread. My last experience baking bread was a 14 hour French loaf debacle that made me appreciate the $2.99 loaf all the more. After that I left bread in Joanie’s capable hands.

Lately I’d seen a few ciabatta recipes and thought it was time to give it a shot. The biga, the sponge or starter, was particularly distressing but I decided to go ahead with it anyway. From what I had gathered from the 1999 Bon Appetit Ciabatta recipe and the March Cook’s Illustrated (subscription required), this particular bread was not the easiest customer.

After bouts of procrastination and general dread, the biga began. From the outset, it wasn’t behaving as I’d expected. Why did they have me proof the yeast in the food processor? When exactly was it supposed to start forming small clumps. How about one big clump with a few small ones? It would have to do because I was concerned about my food processor getting gummed up. Perhaps I’m too protective of it, but give me a break it was my first grown-up kitchen appliance. My fear turned out to be well-founded: biga got all up inside the blade and  fixed spinner thing. I hope I got it all out.

Feeling somewhat accomplished, I let the biga sit, chilling and covered, for two days until the next move. It didn’t look right. Distress. It never got a “thick oatmeal texture,” so much as a dry unbaked bread texture. Convinced of failure I forged on, dutifully kneading with one hand; making the quarter turns (clockwise, though the recipe didn’t specify); waiting ten, and twenty minutes at a time.

The dough rounded the bend, so to speak, when I turned it out onto the semolina-d cutting board. It finally started looking like dough and my heart lifted. The first dough half to be transferred to the baking sheet did not go willingly (I was stingy on the semolina and ended up manhandling it a bit). The second did, I dimpled both and set them in the waiting oven.

Twenty minutes later I had real bread. Made by my own hand. They cooled and I cut them open to see if Cook’s Illustrated would prove its authority again: they warned of giant air pockets. The first loaf was gorgeous (if I do say so myself): compact but with a nice crust and chewy crumb. The second loaf, however, was one giant air pocket with hardly any crumb. Much more like a pita than anything else. Fifty percent success on my first try isn’t bad on something so alchemistic as bread. I will try the Cook’s Illustrated recipe next to see if adding milk makes it more consistent.

I guess the bottom line is that I’d like to come home to freshly baked bread. I just don’t want to be the one baking it all the time. It was a good experience, and perhaps even medatitive, but I’m not dough-hooked. With my culinary adventures of late, I am even softening to the idea of aspic. Not much, mind you, but it’s a distinct option. (Don’t hold your breath.)

Skip is a producer at The Gourmetro. He lives, of all places, in Birmingham, Alabama where he has fallen in love with his newest kitchen gadget: an ice cream maker. He hopes the food processor doesn’t get jealous. You can read more at bhamsandwich.com and aisle-9.net.