Nibbles

Creating Recipes

Nibbles

You know how it is: you’re in the kitchen trying to come up with something for dinner so you just start tossing things together. Or, maybe, you’re doing a little improv on an otherwise basic recipe. Either way, dinner turns out very yummy and you’re left wondering: now, how did I do that?

Of course, in my case, I’m working on the cookbook so I have to be able to tell others the recipe. But whether you’re situation finds you wanting to write down a family recipe that’s made by memory or follow your own ad libbing, the following tips will help you get to the same destination: a recipe that can be made more than once with the same results! It all comes down to two main parts: Measurements and Records.

Measurements

A pinch of this, a dash of that, but is it your pinch or my pinch? A finger and a thumb or a full-fisted affair? While some vagaries of cooking (the inevitable ’til it’s done’ comes to mind) really are variable due to a number of conditions, if we just pause long enough to measure each thing before adding it to the pot it makes the written account so much easier to follow.

How to do it? First, keep a couple sets of measuring cups and spoons out as you create. One set of each for wet and dry ingredients and a flour sack towel or the like for wiping spoons out from one spice to the next. If you have them out, you’re more likely to use them. Then scoop or pour everything into one of these tools, first, rather than directly into your cooking vessel of choice.

For bigger items (meats, large quantities of flour, etc.) having a digital scale on the counter is a real time saver. Choose one that does both grams as well as pounds and ounces then just keep a stack of wax paper on hand to put between the food and the scale and you’re in business. You can also weigh as you go if you’ve got a tare-function on your scale (place an empty bowl or dish on the scale and then press the required button–it’ll zero-out the weight so that all you’re measuring is the contents and not the vessel); just note the weight change after each addition and you’ll be able to replicate your results even when the original was done completely by eye.

Records

Measuring is one thing, but unless you have some way to retrieve that information, it’s not going to do you much good. As a friend used to say: the weakest ink is better than the faintest memory. The obvious solution is to keep pen and paper at hand and stop between each step to write everything down.

As simple as this is, it can also wreck that creative flow you get into while playing culinary scientist on the way to a new discovery. Instead, recruit a friend or family member into taking dictation. This is a great position for kids who want to help in the kitchen but may not be quite ready to man (or woman) the range on their own. Finally, if you fly solo at the stove, try a digital voice recorder to take notes hands-free that you can transcribe after the dishes are washed. This is also good for catching any kitchen epiphanies you might have along the way.

So, go forth, create and then replicate your success again and again. Or, if it’s not so much in the success department, at least you’ll know exactly what you did and you can figure out where you went astray.

Operation Bierock

Nibbles

So, apparently in Nebraska there’s a local chain of restaurants that specialize in their namesake sandwich: the Runza–a mixture of ground beef and cabbage inside of a yeast bread package. Born and raised in Nebraska, Todd really missed them and the recipe he’d tried in the past just didn’t make the grade. While that’s enough, on it’s own, to make me want to give it a whirl, the cabbage-factor made it a perfect meal for New Year’s Day. Add some black-eyed peas on the side and our traditional food requirements are taken care of!

Looking at the recipe he’d used in the past, I noticed that the filling was fairly simple: ground beef, onions, cooked cabbage, salt and white pepper. While I’m all for the purity of ingredients standing out, the missing ingredient was obviously flavor! Because bierocks come from a German background, I flipped through some of my books from International Cuisine class to see what herbs and spices came up the most so we’d have a jumping-off point for experimentation. I automatically suggested paprika (for a warm, homey feeling), then we picked out nutmeg, ginger and caraway seed to round out the seasonings. One other addition: garlic. Whether it’s appropriate for the recipe or not, garlic is a staple in our home so I had to add some.

Digging around the Internet some more, I found several recipes for beirocks that all seemed pretty much the same. One interesting tidbit I picked up in the comments of one was to cook the shredded cabbage in beer rather than just water. Awesome idea and we had a bottle of Pumpkin Ale in the fridge that would be perfect (though any spiced ale would work–not a lot transfers to the cabbage, just enough to add another layer of flavor overall). Todd also said that the source recipe was a bit heavy on the cabbage, so we cut that down a bit.

The results were amazing! Never having been to the Midwest or tasted a Runza, according to my audience I not only replicated what he’d been missing but improved it, as well. Go me! Here’s the recipe we ended up with (aka our new New Year’s tradition):

Bierocks
makes 24

Dough:
11 c All-Purpose Flour
1 pkg (.25 oz) Active Dry Yeast
.5 c Sugar
2 tsp Salt
2.5 c Water
1 c Milk
.5 c Butter
2 Eggs

Combine 4 cups of the flour with the rest of the dry ingredients (yeast, sugar and salt) in a large bowl (preferably one that fits on a stand mixer) and mix well.

In a sauce pan, combine the water, milk and butter and heat until the butter has melted. Remove from the heat and let cool to between 120 and 130 degrees Fahrenheit (too cold and the yeast won’t grow, too hot and you’ll kill it).

With the mixer on low, add in liquids until just moistened, followed by eggs. Crank up the mixer to medium and beat for 3-5 minutes. Returning the mixer to low, gradually add in the rest of the flour until all is incorporated. Transfer to a floured surface and knead for 10 minutes.

If you have a super-sized mixer you may be able to do this in the bowl but my 4-quart Kitchen Aid didn’t have the space to let this huge mound of dough move around and do it’s thing enough without some additional kneading by hand. Besides, it’s a good arm work-out!

Place the dough in a large, oiled bowl, turn to coat evenly, then cover with a towel and let rest until doubled (1 hour for regular yeast, only about 10 minutes for rapid-rise), punch the dough down and let it rise again for another hour.

Filling:
20 oz Cabbage, shredded, the finer the better
1 bottle Ale
1 c Water
2 T Olive Oil
2 lb Ground Beef
1 lg Onion, diced
2 cloves Garlic, minced
2 T Salt
1 tsp ground White Pepper
1 T ground Ginger
1 T Paprika
1/2 t Caraway Seeds, bashed in a mortar and pestle for a bit
1 T ground Nutmeg

Cook the cabbage with the ale and water in a covered saucepan until tender, stirring occasionally. Drain off the remaining liquid.

Heat the olive oil in a large skillet and cook the onion and garlic until the onion is translucent. Add the ground beef and brown, adding the seasonings towards the end of the process. Drain off any liquid (if you used lean ground beef there shouldn’t be much) and add the cabbage to the ground beef.

Divide the dough into 24 even pieces. Stretch, roll and pull a piece into a 5-inch square (or as close as you can get–dough doesn’t like making corners on it’s own). Moisten the edges of the dough with a little bit of water and add 1/3 cup of filling to the center of the dough. Pull up the four “corners” of dough to meet in the center, pinch together and then pinch the x-like seams that form. Repeat with the other pieces of dough. Place, seam down, on a parchment-lined baking sheet and bake at 375 degrees F for 30 minutes or until golden brown.

I had to ask Todd how we were supposed to eat them (with knife and fork or just in hand) and the verdict was definitely hands-on. Since this makes a LOT of bierocks, wrap each leftover one individually in foil and then place them in a large freezer bag and store in the freezer until you a craving hits. Place a frozen bierock, still in it’s foil packet, into a 375-degree oven and bake 20 minutes or until completely heated through (165 degrees in the center).

Foodie Resolutions

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It’s that time of year, folks, when we look back at the year that was (and wonder where it went so quickly!) and contemplate the year ahead (and what we’re going to do differently). As much as I dislike the word “resolutions”–it sounds so official and ominous and unyielding–it is what most people call their intentions (my preferred word, leaves some necessary wiggle room) that they set. Do you have any that are food-related?

No, no, no, I don’t mean the usual big-d-Diet ones. I mean little-d-diet ones, the everyday practices that we have, the getting out of ruts or starting new habits. Whether we live to eat or eat to live, food is a necessary part of our daily lives so it makes perfect sense that there might be some food-related intentions to be made for the start of the next decade.

If you want to eat healthier in the new year, instead of declaring an all-out war on carbs or fats, why not try a more subtle shift like these:

  • I intend to eat more vegetables. If you’re more of a meat and potatoes type, try mashed cauliflower instead of the usual spuds, bake sticks of turnips or rutabagas drizzled with olive oil instead of fries, or even creamed spinach on the side of your grilled or broiled steak or chicken.
  • I intend to watch my portion sizes. Pick up a deck of playing cards and place it next to your plate at home–that’s the size your portion of meat should be. Does it look very small on your usual plates, making you feel deprived? Buy smaller plates! It’s true, we eat with our eyes just as much as our mouths, and seeing a full plate of practically any size will increase your satisfaction with a meal.

Perhaps you already eat healthily but your usual meals have gotten a bit predictable. Maybe you want to try new things but don’t know where to start. All it takes is an idea:

  • I intend to try a new recipe every week. Too drastic a shift in our eating habits can be upsetting on several fronts. Immersion works well for languages, but I think a more gradual introduction to new ingredients, cuisines or cooking techniques is a kinder way to expand ones horizons; knowing that the familiar is waiting around the corner allows us to experiment more easily.
  • I intend to buy a new spice and learn how to use it. One of the most fascinating things in food, I think, is how different the same basic ingredients taste when a new spice or seasoning is employed. I recently picked up Ian Hemphill’s Spice and Herb Bible and am amazed at how thorough a reference it is, including helpful tips about which spices easily combine, what quantities to use with what sort of foods and what each is best suited for.

Or, maybe, it’s the food budget that needs an overhaul:

  • I intend to eat out less. While I’m all for supporting local restaurants whenever possible, let’s face it: eating out costs more than cooking at home and, when you are out more nights than in, your food budget can be way out of proportion. This means fast food and take-out, too. Not only will you be doing your wallet a favor, but your waistline may show the difference as well. And when you do go out, pay attention to those portions and bring half of it (or more!) home for future meals.
  • I intend to make shopping lists each time I go to the grocery store. There’s just something about having a list in-hand (yes, you have to bring it with you, not leave it on the counter) that curbs the impulse to toss stuff willy-nilly into the cart. It may mean a bit of pre-planning about your menu for the week, but I’m always astonished at how much I spend when I go shopping sans-list compared to with one, not to mention what I invariably forget and have to go back for during the week!
  • I intend to shop locally. While not always the case, many times a farmer’s market can yield better prices on fresh produce simply because the farms are down the road and require less transportation costs instead of several states (or countries!) away. Similar deals can be found with local meat markets that do their own butchering and therefore fewer middle-man costs. Even if the prices are the same, you may feel better for supporting the local economy in a more direct way than shopping for everything at the larger chains or big-box stores.

Whatever you intend for 2010, keep in mind that it should be to add something to your life. By keeping a positive spin on things and concentrating on meeting small milestones on a frequent basis you’ll have a higher sucess rate and be able to look back on the coming year with a smile.

Formulas versus Recipes

Nibbles

While listening to the Weekly Geek podcast last week they discussed a submitted iPhone App, Ratio, by the author of the book of the same name: Michael Ruhlman. First let me say I’m completely unfamiliar with his work, his book or the App (as of the podcast it had been submitted but not yet approved and I don’t even own an iPhone so…) so this is not a commentary on the App or the book; though I am curious about the book now that I know it exists!

At any rate, the hosts were discussing the versatility of the App that, apparently, breaks down many common food items into formulas–ratios–so that the cook can design their own dishes free from the restrictions of specific recipes. All agreed that it was a cool tool but one opined that it might not be best for beginners while the other said it was PERFECT for beginners since no matter what, if they followed the ratios, the recipes couldn’t fail. Furthermore, using the example of a simple biscuit, that is didn’t matter what type of flour or fat you used, the biscuit would be correct.

SCREEEECH!

Wait, seriously? Are you thinking what I’m thinking? Not all ingredients are created equal and using the wrong one can spell disaster for a recipe. Even if an item is chemically correct, if it doesn’t taste good or have the correct texture, it has failed in it’s purpose of flavorful sustenance.

Because I’m a hands-on type of girl, I propose the following hypothesis:

Using a fairly basic 3:1:2::flour:fat:milk ratio for biscuits (allowing self-rising flour for simplicities sake) the use of cold butter, melted butter and olive oil (a fat frequently interchangeable with butter in other culinary applications and generally considered to be healthier) will produce vastly different results, 2 of which will not be what is normally considered a biscuit.

So I tried it. And the results were pretty much as I predicted. I used self rising flour only because I didn’t want to make a huge batch of biscuits each time (another claim by the pro-beginner host was that if you only wanted to make one of something, you could) so I did things in a single-serving size and used the traditional cold butter, melted it because I can see folks thinking that they’ll maybe soften it and going too far but using it anyway and olive for the stated health and versatility reasons.

I’m assuming a tiny bit of knowledge that I maybe shouldn’t: that the fat should be cut into the flour before any sort of liquid is added. I have no idea what level of instruction (if any) the Ratio App provides, but since the other two options are semi-liquid and liquid fats I figure we’ll get a sense of the dump-it-in technique as well. When I mixed the olive oil and melted butter each with the self-rising flour there was definite clumping and, as I figured would happen, so much of the flour bonded with the liquid in those fats that when it came time to add the milk it… didn’t mesh well.

But I baked them anyway! Placing each on a labeled piece of parchment paper and into a 435-degree oven for about 20 minutes. Once again, the results were predictable. The regular (control) biscuit was flaky, buttery and what you would generally expect when you hear the word biscuit. The melted-butter version was kinda clumpy and had a horrible texture inside: definitely not light and fluffy. If some of the butter doesn’t stay by itself so it can get all hot and steamy inside the flour, it just doesn’t turn out well. The olive oil had a slightly better texture and the flavor wasn’t actually bad, but it was more like a pancake than a biscuit–olive oil has no structure of its own to lend to the biscuit and it incorporates well with the flour and milk because it lacks milk solids the way the butter does.

And I haven’t even touched on the differences that could arise (hah!) from the use of different flours or if they wanted to, say, substitute buttermilk for regular milk–yes, you can do it but it affects the leavening you need, etc.

Don’t get me wrong, I love formulas and the idea of the Ratio App is fabulous for someone like me who knows ingredients and techniques and is more likely to sit down and figure out a ratio for myself so that I can experiment with a recipe. I love books like Rose Levy Beranbaum’s The Cake Bible that is uber-meticulous and my own Baking textbook from Culinary School has everything in weights (something else Ruhlman encourages) and baker’s formulas (everything is done as a percentage compared to the amount of flour in the recipe, so you frequently end up with things totally in the 300% range or more which can be confusing if you’ve never seen it before). But, in this case, I have to side empiracly with the host that said this was NOT ideal for the beginners. As restrictive as recipes can be, they provide a framework that beginners can feel safe in, learn the basics from and then experiment.

Fabulous Fennel

Nibbles

Fennel is one of those tastes that most people either love or hate. If you don’t like black licorice or other anise-flavored foods, straight-up fennel might not be for you, but there’s more than one way to eat this bulb.

Recently we spied some in our local grocery store and decided we’d work it in to the week’s menu at some point. Almost anything you can do with celery works well with anise so I thought wrapping it in bacon and braising it (as I recalled from a surprisingly delish dish during the classical French module at school) might be a nice way to go.

Braised Fennel
(serves 4)

2 medium fennel bulbs
8 strips bacon
Salt and pepper to taste
Olive oil
Vegetable stock

Trim away the very bottom of the fennel bulb, the green, ferny leaves and cut each bulb in half. Wash each bulb thoroughly but being careful not to dislodge any of the layers. Salt and pepper the fennel and wrap each half in 2 strips of bacon, covering as much of the vegetable as possible.

Pour a bit of olive oil in the bottom of a small clay roaster or casserole dish and arrange the bacon-wrapped fennel inside. Pour in enough vegetable stock to make about a half-inch pool of broth around the bulbs and place in a 375-degree oven, covered, for 30 minutes.

Remove the cover and allow the fennel to continue to cook until a knife easily pierces up and the bacon has crisped.

We had a package of turkey bacon in the fridge, so used it instead of pork bacon, and if you also opt for this substitution, sprinkle a little olive oil on top of the wrapped fennel as well to keep the turkey bacon from drying out. The combination of bacon and fennel reminded Todd, who couldn’t recall ever having it before, of sausage and that makes sense: fennel seeds can often be found in bulk Italian sausage, especially the kinds used on meaty pizzas.

As we ate, though, we brainstormed some other ways to use fennel. Here’s our top 3 ideas, what other ones can you think of or have tried?

  • Pureed with leeks and potatoes, for a different type of mashed side-dish.
  • Roasted until nicely caramelized along with parsnips, rutabagas, onions and turnips.
  • Skewered with chunks of lamb as a kebab, brushed with a sweet and spicy sauce and grilled.