I have a little problem. I'm addicted to cookbooks, food writing, recipe collecting, and cooking. I have a lot of recipes waiting for me to try them, and ideas from articles, tv, and restaurants often lead to new dishes. I started losing track of what I've done. So now I'm taking photos and writing about what I've prepared—unless it's terrible in which case I forget it ever happened.
I wish my toes were in the sand as I write this. What would be better than sitting on a beach and sipping a Mai Tai? Unfortunately, I can’t get to a beach this week, so I’ll have to settle for sipping a Mai Tai while sitting in my backyard. When I read the article about Mai Tais on The Atlantic last month, I realized that this cocktail could be a vacation in a glass. A regular weekend quickly becomes more interesting when you have a fruity, tropical cocktail in hand. The article I read mentioned drinks that are like liquid candy and drinks that allow you to taste the rum and tartness. The recipe offered was of the latter type, and I had to try it. It’s made with lime juice, Cointreau, simple syrup, rum, and Orgeat syrup. I’d heard of Orgeat before, but I wasn’t sure I’d be able to find it locally. First, it’s pronounced or-zha not or-geet, and the important thing about it is its almond flavor. My first stop in my search for it was a well-stocked liquor store, where the person who helped me locate it mispronounced it. Not a good sign. The product I was shown was a big bottle full of artificial flavors, etc. I decided to keep looking. I checked online and learned that Monin brand makes an Orgeat syrup, and it has the exact same ingredients as their almond syrup. So, when I located Monin almond, I went with that.
Now, the recipe from The Atlantic was very specific about the type of rum to use as Appleton 21-year old was mentioned by name. I wasn’t feeling that picky since I had some good, aged rum in the house which we had poured into a decanter, and for the life of me I can’t remember what brand it is. The recipe also suggests floating Demerara rum on top as an option. I skipped that option. Aged rum, lime juice, Cointreau, simple syrup, and Orgeat or almond syrup were placed in a cocktail shaker with ice, it was given a good shaking, and it was poured over crushed ice in a glass. I did follow the instructions regarding garnishing with mint since the mint in my garden hasn’t died yet this year.
One sip of this, and you’ll imagine the sound of waves crashing nearby. It’s the Orgeat that gives it that tropical vibe. It blends with the tart lime and rum and adds a distinctive, happy, rounded flavor. My drink is ready and all I need is the surf, the sand, and a palm tree or two.
Dan Lepard is known for how well he knows bread and his artisanal approach to baking. I’ve baked from and mentioned the books Exceptional Breads and Exceptional Cakes which he co-wrote, and his other books include Baking with Passion and The Handmade Loaf. Most recently, Dan has written the British chapter in the French language Dictionnaire Universel du Pain to be published by Laffont Paris in October 2010. He also has two new books that will be published next year including a collection of recipes from his Guardian newspaper column, and the long-awaited book on traditional British baking. And, you'll find great information about baking and recipes on his site. He’s an incredible baker, writer, and photographer, and I knew he’d have an interesting answer when I asked him what are you reading?
Dan: Most of my time out of the kitchen is spent studying old baking methods in cookbooks and manuscripts, even though my regular work is about trying to write recipes that have a modern, inventive edge to them. Dipping into the past is a reminder of all the ideas that have been stirred into our baking soup over the centuries. Yep, for all the tweeting, blogging, and general web stuff I do, I’m still sat reading old books.
I’m always on the hunt for things to eat with bread, so I’ve been working my way through a series from the 1960s calledThe Compleat Imbiber, filled with essays on food and drink, edited by Cyril Ray. The design and typography has a good boldness to it, and just looking at volume five on my desk here, there are essays by Elizabeth David on first eating pork cooked with prunes at the Rôtisserie Tourangelle, in Tours, France, and how she came to write her own recipe for it. Another by Isak Dinesen on wine drinking by soldiers in biblical Palestine. It’s all stirring and fascinating.
The other book here is a reprint by Persephone Books, in Bloomsbury, London of Florence White’sGood Things in England, first published in 1932. It’s a collection of recipes and thoughts on cooking and local traditions around England, most of them lost and forgotten. It’s a book I reread often, and this summer it’s on my desk again. Simple recipes for a North Yorkshire fruit bread rich with allspice, pork lard, and raisins, another for a raised red gooseberry pie from Sussex.
Thank you for participating, Dan. Check back to see who answers the question next time and what other books are recommended.
I’m always mentioning my CSA, but what I currently receive isn’t a share from a single farm. I’ve been receiving a box every other week from Farmhouse Delivery, and they combine produce, meat, dairy, eggs, and local artisanal products in a flexible plan. The boxes are delivered to your door, and you can choose to receive one every week rather than every other, but that would be a little too much for a two-person household. Because the items are gathered from a few different local farms, each box is filled with varied and interesting things. There's always something exciting and unexpected. A couple of weeks ago, our delivery included some key limes, and a few ideas came to mind immediately. I knew I’d seen a key lime cake I really wanted to try. After a little searching, I found it again on Cookie Madness. This is a great summer cake. It’s a sturdy but tender bundt with lots of flavor from the key lime juice and zest in the batter, and the frosting has all the basic ingredients of a good margarita.
The cake is made with cake flour which gives it a velvety texture. The dry ingredients were sifted together, and then eggs were separated. The egg whites were beaten to soft peaks in a separate bowl and set aside. The yolks were combined with softened butter, sugar, and lime zest. As usual, I used all butter here rather than a mix of butter and shortening. The dry ingredients were added to the butter mixture alternately with lime juice and sour cream. You know a cake is going to be good when sour cream’s involved. Last, the egg whites were folded into the batter, and it was poured into a prepared bundt pan. For the frosting, softened cream cheese, butter, and confectioner’s sugar were mixed, and tequila, Grand Marnier, and lime juice were added. The frosting should be thin enough to run down the sides of the cake but thick enough to hold some shape. Tasting and testing the frosting is a fun process as you can add additional lime juice, tequila, or confectioner’s sugar to achieve the margarita taste you want and the thickness that seems right.
Bundt cakes are so low-maintenance with their built-in good looks from the pan in which they’re baked and their need for just a simple drizzly frosting at the most. Add to that great flavor like key lime, and you’ve got a fantastic dessert. Getting to use some locally grown citrus in this delicious cake was a bonus for me, and well, the familiar flavor of a margarita was, you know, icing on the cake.
In May, Food and Wine magazine included a story about different tacos from across the US. Most of the tacos in the story were traditional al pastor, chicken, or fish varieties, but they also showed a fun fusion option. Here in Austin, we enjoy a delightful plethora of taco opportunities of all kinds, and we even have a trailer that offers up Korean-Mexican fusion fare. Chi’lantro, the name being a melding of kimchi and cilantro, moves around town to different locations, and I haven’t been able to visit the trailer yet. So, when I saw these crunchy tofu tacos with kimchi in the magazine, they were destined for my dinner table. First, I needed to visit my nearby Korean market for kimchi and gochujang. As luck would have it, the only msg-free kimchi available that day was a big jar. I asked around about how to use some of it quickly to regain refrigerator space and got some great ideas like kimchi burgers and kimchi soup. Now, my big jar will be empty in no time.
To make these tacos, tofu was drained, patted dry, and cut into one-inch cubes. A paste was made from Korean chile powder, gochujang, garlic, ginger, sesame oil, and salt. In a separate bowl, cornstarch was combined with Korean chile powder and salt. The tofu cubes were tossed in the chile paste mixture and then in the cornstarch. Then, it was fried in hot oil for three minutes or less until browned and crunchy on the surface. Tortillas were filled with the fried tofu, hoisin sauce, kimchi, sliced pear, green onions, and chopped peanuts. I added a little extra gochujang as well.
I was completely thrilled with these tacos. This mix of spicy, tangy, crunchy, savory, and sweet was a big winner. I should have thought of this sooner, but an interesting substitution for the pear slices, and to extend the fusion concept, would be jicama. I also think this taco filling would be fun and delicious placed on top of crisp tostadas. Clearly, this is somthing I’ll be making again and again.
While I was making dinner from Sunday Suppers at Lucques, I noticed a simple, summery dessert that I could whip up at the same time. And, coming to think of it, I never do that. I never set out to make a meal including dessert all in one go. Dessert, or most of it depending on what it is, is always made in advance, but this one really is easy enough to prepare right along with dinner. It’s a custard with creme fraiche that’s poured over berries and then gratineed under the broiler. Once browned, it can sit patiently at room temperature while you enjoy your main course. Now speaking of that browning step, I’ve noticed that organic sugar doesn’t behave quite the same as regular sugar. In this case, confectioner’s sugar was suggested, and I used an organic brand, and I don’t think it browned as well as it could have. Deborah Madison confirmed the fact in her book Seasonal Fruit Desserts that for browning or bruleeing, regular sugar works better, but I’m not sure why that is. At any rate, these little desserts only sit under the broiler long enough to become bubbly and a little browned, so it didn’t matter much here.
An easy custard was made with warmed milk slowly whisked into a mixture of egg yolks, sugar, and cornstarch. That was returned to a saucepan and thickened. Butter and salt were added while it was warm, and then the custard was chilled in the refrigerator for a bit. Once cool, creme fraiche was folded into it. In the book, the dessert is made with raspberries, but I had blackberries, and any kind of berries or really just about any fruit would work. In the intro to the recipe, sauteed apples or pears with dried fruit is suggested for a winter version of this. The blackberries were tossed with a little granulated sugar and then scattered in ramekins in my case. The dessert can also be made in one, larger gratin dish. The custard was spooned over the berries, more berries were placed on top, confectioner’s sugar was sifted over each ramekin, and they were placed under the broiler for about seven minutes. I dusted them with a little more confectioner’s sugar before serving.
What you get is a warm, vanilla pudding with a partially browned, set surface, rich, tangy flavor from creme fraiche, and warm, juicy berries. If you wanted to do what I usually do which is to have dessert mostly ready long before I start tackling dinner preparations, you could just refrigerate the gratins until you’re ready to broil them right before serving. Either way, it’s a simple dessert that has me looking forward to other seasonal variations.
When I was looking for an interesting meal idea last week, I turned to the summer chapter of Sunday Suppers at Lucques. I found this Nicoise-style salad that could be made with several things I had on hand with just a few minor changes. First, in the book, it’s made with grilled halibut, but I used wild salmon instead. The dish also includes haricots verts, cherry tomatoes, and fingerling potatoes. I had different versions of each of those vegetables from my CSA and the farmers’ market. I received green beans last month, and they had been steamed and frozen, so I thawed them rather than buying haricots verts. I had bought local, yellow pear tomatoes, and I had just received some pretty, purple potatoes in my last CSA box. The tomatoes were to be sauteed in anchovy butter, and my stash of salt-packed anchovies came in handy as did my homegrown basil and thyme. This meal had all the components of a standard Nicoise salad, but the elements were tweaked in ways that added great flavor.
First, the fish was seasoned with lemon zest and thyme and then grilled which was flavor-boost one. Next, the potatoes were roasted rather than boiled, boost number two. The cooked green beans and roasted potatoes were sauteed in olive oil with shallots and then tossed with spinach, olives, and lemon juice. Eggs were soft-boiled here which left them extremely tender and lovely. Last, the tomatoes were warmed and softened with melted butter and minced anchovy. The buttery tomatoes became a sauce that was spooned over the grilled fish which sat on top of the spinach salad, and it was crowned with sliced green and opal basil.
Nicoise salad has always been a favorite meal kind of salad of mine, but this one was a cut above the usual. The roasted potatoes with bits of surface crunch and the added shallot, olive oil flavor and the sweet, salty bite of bursting tomatoes in warm anchovy butter elevated this version. And, the soft-boiled eggs were rich and a little delicate and just seemed special. Yes, this was a very good way to make a Nicoise salad.
Because of David Leite, we all tested a certain chocolate chip cookie technique having to do with leaving the dough in the refrigerator for 36 hours before baking. David is a James Beard Award-winning food writer, and his site, Leite’s Culinaria has won several food blog and food web site awards as well. He writes for the New York Times, Martha Stewart Living, Saveur, Bon Appetit, and many other publications. His new book, The New Portuguese Table, won the 2010 IACP First Book/Julia Child Award. Now, David is busy working on a book proposal for a new cookbook. I asked him: what are you reading?
David:
Right now I'm finishing upThe Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake by Aimee Bender. What intrigued me was the premise: Rose, an ordinary young girl, suddenly begins tasting in her food the emotions and hidden secrets of the person who made it. The novel is set into motion with Rose's shuddering at her mother's desperate sadness after dipping into the lemon cake of the title, which she made for Rose's birthday. Later she correctly intuits her infidelity because, after years of empty-feeling dishes, she suddenly bites into an uncharacteristically hopeful and sunny forkful of dinner.
Bender's spare but evocative language kept me highlighting passages and descriptions on my iPad: Of Rose's father: "He always seemed a little like a guest to me." Of the school nurse:"She was the chaperone of broken bones." Most telling, of her mother, who clearly favored her son: "She was the best with activities: I cherished this time with her, warmed like baby chicks by the orange-red coils of the wall heater." Bare-boned, gorgeous, sad.
Thank you for participating, David. Check back to see who answers the question next time and what other books are recommended.
and 
which he co-wrote, and his other books include 
and 
. Most recently, Dan has written the British chapter in the French language Dictionnaire Universel du Pain to be published by Laffont Paris in October 2010. He also has two new books that will be published next year including a collection of recipes from his 
, filled with essays on food and drink, edited by Cyril Ray. The design and typography has a good boldness to it, and just looking at volume five on my desk here, there are essays by Elizabeth David on first eating pork cooked with prunes at the Rôtisserie Tourangelle, in Tours, France, and how she came to write her own recipe for it. Another by Isak Dinesen on wine drinking by soldiers in biblical Palestine. It’s all stirring and fascinating.
, first published in 1932. It’s a collection of recipes and thoughts on cooking and local traditions around England, most of them lost and forgotten. It’s a book I reread often, and this summer it’s on my desk again. Simple recipes for a North Yorkshire fruit bread rich with allspice, pork lard, and raisins, another for a raised red gooseberry pie from Sussex.
, I noticed a simple, summery dessert that I could whip up at the same time. And, coming to think of it, I never do that. I never set out to make a meal including dessert all in one go. Dessert, or most of it depending on what it is, is always made in advance, but this one really is easy enough to prepare right along with dinner. It’s a custard with creme fraiche that’s poured over berries and then gratineed under the broiler. Once browned, it can sit patiently at room temperature while you enjoy your main course. Now speaking of that browning step, I’ve noticed that organic sugar doesn’t behave quite the same as regular sugar. In this case, confectioner’s sugar was suggested, and I used an organic brand, and I don’t think it browned as well as it could have. Deborah Madison confirmed the fact in her book 
that for browning or bruleeing, regular sugar works better, but I’m not sure why that is. At any rate, these little desserts only sit under the broiler long enough to become bubbly and a little browned, so it didn’t matter much here.
, won the 2010 IACP First Book/Julia Child Award. Now, David is busy working on a book proposal for a new cookbook. I asked him: what are you reading?
by Aimee Bender. What intrigued me was the premise: Rose, an ordinary young girl, suddenly begins tasting in her food the emotions and hidden secrets of the person who made it. The novel is set into motion with Rose's shuddering at her mother's desperate sadness after dipping into the lemon cake of the title, which she made for Rose's birthday. Later she correctly intuits her infidelity because, after years of empty-feeling dishes, she suddenly bites into an uncharacteristically hopeful and sunny forkful of dinner.