Salted fudge brownies were a sweet treat for the Oscars party last Sunday, and they accompanied the roasted red pepper and goat cheese tarts. I saw these brownies on One Ordinary Day, and they originated at Food and Wine. A fudgy texture in a salted sweet drew me in right away, and I couldn’t wait to try them. They’re very simple to make, chocolate was melted with butter, and the rest of the ingredients were stirred in one by one. I doubled the recipe, and it was still very easy to stir together. The batter was spread in a pan, smoothed, sprinkled with sea salt, and the salt was swirled into the top of the batter. After baking and cooling, it was time to cut. The top had a nice crispness to it, and I was amazed at how tender the inside was as each brownie was cut.These looked great, and the crunchy sea salt on top was alluring, but I wasn’t sure how serious chocolate and brownie fans would react to them. I’m slightly chocolate-ambivalent which makes me a less than ideal judge of brownies. I was anxious to hear everyone’s reactions at the party. And guess what? The Academy did not have enough love for Mickey Rourke, but these were very well-loved brownies. I’m thrilled to report that I received numerous, unsolicited comments about the deliciousness and fudginess of them. The rich chocolate flavor enhanced by the sea salt was much appreciated by all. The brownies disappeared quickly, and I’ll be keeping this recipe for repeat use.

Tweet


Goat cheese was layered with the roasted peppers, and Malgieri notes that keeping the cheese under the peppers prevents it from becoming dry in the oven. I did my best, but the shapes of the peppers and the shapes of the tart pans didn’t make that possible for the entirety of both surfaces. Eggs, whisked with salt and pepper and lots of chopped parsley, were poured into the crusts, and they baked for about 35 minutes until set in the center.

Then, it was time to fry those lovely, fresh Gulf oysters. They were dusted with cornmeal seasoned with cayenne, thyme, parsley, and salt and pepper. Just a few minutes in the hot oil turned them into crunchy wonders. The assembly involved a mound of spinach and celery root circled about by the black-eyed pea salad all of which was crowned by the oysters and then drizzled with the remaining dressing. After this meal, I decided there need to be more holidays that inspire this kind of cooking, or I need to plan another visit to New Orleans.

Ordinarily, I’m the pickiest eater I know, but sometimes Kurt has specific opinions about food as well. This time, we tied. Fresh tuna was to be marinated with crushed fennel seeds, lemon zest, red pepper flakes, garlic, and olive oil. We were both fine with that. Then, each tuna portion was to be wrapped with prosciutto. No thank you for mine. The tuna was seared while the sliced ciabatta rolls were toasted under the broiler. Then, the tuna was to be placed on each roll with olive salad and provolone cheese. Kurt does not allow cheese near his fish under any circumstances. So, we ended up with two customized muffulettas, but both were fantastic.

The instructions state that you should be able to form 18 four ounce pieces. I ended up with 17, and they were all just shy of four full ounces, but I didn’t let that bother me. The pieces were again left to rest before being shaped into bagels. The shaping was a point of real uncertainty. I had no idea how much the dough would expand inward, so I wasn’t sure how large the bagel hole should be. I winged it, and left the bagels to rest in the refrigerator overnight.
About the size of the bagel holes: I made them too small, and the bagels looked over-puffed because of it. I’ll get better at that I hope. I will, without doubt, be making more bagels, so I should figure it out eventually. I haven’t decided yet what the next sourdough adventure will be. Parmesan cheese bread, raisin brioche, and seeded sour are all contenders.

This hearty, healthy dish can be adapted to include whatever vegetable, herb, and cheese combination sounds good to you. It makes a generous amount and stores very well as a leftover. It was also delicious with a sliced hard-boiled egg on top. Follow one of the examples above, or make your own version, but definitely try a farro salad.

There is a lot of liquid in the dough from the chopped tangelos and the buttermilk, and the cut scones need to be chilled for at least a couple of hours before baking. I brushed the tops with an egg wash since I didn’t have any cream and then sprinkled on turbinado sugar. Just to make them extra fancy for my Valentine, I squiggled on a confectioner’s sugar glaze before serving. The juicy bits of tangelo were lovely in the scones, and the buttermilk balanced the sweetness. I’m guessing these scones will make repeat appearances in my kitchen each time tangelos are in season.



It all worked incredibly well together, but we also soon realized the stuffing would make an excellent vegetarian dish on its own. After filling the salmon, there was extra stuffing which I baked in a small dish. That alone would be lovely served with the tomato sauce. The sauce delivered brightness and incredible flavor considering the very short ingredient list. With the mozzarella melted into the buttery salmon, the tender eggplant made flavorful with garlic and soy sauce, and the smooth tomato sauce, this was a great finale to a seafood day.

The frosting on the cake was mascarpone whipped cream which I’ll have to go on about for just a bit. First, it was so light and fluffy it seemed like it should be ok to go ahead and eat the entire bowl of it. The mascarpone, heavy cream, and confectioner’s sugar were mixed together all at once. I imagined it would be a little thicker and heavier like cream cheese frosting, but instead, the consistency was like puffy, creamy, light, pillowy stuff that’s really hard to stop eating. The second thing about it is that it’s lightly sweetened. It’s not tooth achingly sugary at all. That’s important because the frosted cake was then topped with caramel sauce. I already loved the frosting, and then it got some caramel. Dear, sweet, beautiful caramel. This cake was a very good choice.
It is a big, special cake, and it was splendid for a birthday celebration. You could simplify it by making one big layer, skipping the cooked bananas, and just frosting it without the caramel sauce. All the parts together, though, are so good. So Kurt’s another year older, and what am I doing with such an old man anyway? I think that every year until I catch up with him in a month and a half.




Not willing to give up so easily, I decided to let the cookies cool while I considered my options. I thought I could sneekily re-top them with melted milk chocolate and no one would ever know. My plan was to send these to my nieces for Valentine’s Day, so I went with milk chocolate for the final topping instead of semisweet. That chocolate topping worked ok, and the cookies were brought back from the brink. I can’t wait to find out if my nieces enjoyed the cookies or if they could taste the bitterness of near failure.
Wine with shallots, bay leaf from my tree, and some thyme simmered and reduced. The slacker demi-glace was added. The filet was grilled, and juices were collected on a plate where it rested. A scant tablespoon of butter, I thought there'd be more, was whisked in, and the steak juices and some parsley were added to the sauce. The steak was sprinkled with rosemary and thyme, was set into a puddle of sauce, and received a dab of sauce on top. Did I, the red meat abstainer, taste this celebration of veal and beef? Of course I did. I had to know. I think I’ve used the phrase depth of flavor before but I shouldn’t have because this was what depth of flavor truly is. It was a velvety, luscious, beautiful thing. I haven’t converted into a beef eater or anything, but I do have a renewed appreciation for French classics.

Continuing with my obsequious adherence to the instructions, I, of course, baked the first bread listed which is a basic loaf of country white. This bread requires two days of prepping and waiting. I was a little concerned because there is specific information in the book about room temperature, water temperature, dough temperature and how all need to be within a narrow range for success. We were having chilly nights, and my kitchen wasn’t as warm as it usually is, so I was nervous. I attempted to make the suggested adjustments by increasing the temperature of the water used, and waiting the maximum amount of time for each step of dough resting and rising. But still, I was anxious. A big, but precise, pile of bread flour was mixed by hand with the virgin starter, water at 81 degrees, and an exact amount of wheat germ. I then kneaded it by hand. Things looked ok to me. The autolyse, or period of rest for the dough, came and went. Salt was added and kneaded into the dough. And, it was time for the first rise. Four hours. It rose, but I sensed it wasn’t enough.
Day two involved removing the bowls from the refrigerator, allowing the dough to come to room temperature, waiting through a final proof of three hours, and then finally, thank you, the dough blobs went into the blessed, 500 degree, water-spritzed oven. I was feeling very much like the Little Red Hen at this point. Did anyone else read that book as a child? It was great to get to read it to my niece a couple of years ago. Still love that story. So, my dough seemed flabby and short, but I baked it anyway. And, believe it or not, it ended up very much like bread. I don’t count this as a solid success because the loaves were a little denser than they should have been. It could have been due to a weak, new starter or a too cool room for proofing, but what I got in the end was indeed bread. It was crunchy on the outside and chewy on the inside. There were some holes like there were supposed to be throughout the loaf’s interior. It was bread, and it was mine. And, it was delicious toast for breakfast the next morning too.