50 Shots of America–Delaware

Sips

Welcome to the 2010 series theme for Sips & Shots: 50 Shots of America! Each week I’ll look at a different state, dig up some (hopefully) interesting facts about it that then leads me to concoct a little libation in it’s honor (for these recipes I’ll be sticking to 2oz or less, so a double shot)! These are not intended to be official by any means, just a fun exercise in cocktail creation. (And, hey, if by the end of this year I can actually identify each state on the map–Bonus!*) Rather than do another alphabetical listing, this time I’m using the date of statehood as my guide so first up is…

Delaware, the first state to ratify the constitution on December 7, 1787, is a fairly tiny state (second only to Rhode Island in area) originally colonized by the Dutch. Apparently the log cabin is of Finnish ingenuity and the Finns brought over the plans with them in the mid-17th century. There’s a preserved log cabin of this sort at the Museum of Agriculture in the state capital, Dover. (Thanks to 50states.com for that bit of intel.) Even though I always will associate Georgia as the peach state, the peach blossom is the state flower of Delaware so it shares that nickname with it’s Southern buddy.

Despite wanting terribly to work the ‘no sales tax’ angle into this week’s cocktail, I decided to go with the log cabin and peaches instead. There’s already a Log Cabin cocktail in the world (actually, 3 different recipes presented themselves during a search) so, using that (those) as the base, I now present to you:

the Delaware Log Cabin

1 oz Peach nectar
1/2 oz Applejack
1/2 oz Whiskey
splash Maple Syrup

Combine all ingredients in a small cocktail shaker over ice and shake like a wave crashing on the Rehoboth Beach dunes. Strain into a double shot or cordial glass.

The whiskey seems very pioneer, log cabin-ish to me and using a corn-based whiskey makes sense as one of Delaware’s main crops is corn (it’s even on the state seal). There’s an Apple Scrapple Festival every year in Bridgeville, hence the use of Applejack and maple syrup seemed like a fitting sweetener instead of the usual sugar syrup, which helps to blunt the whiskey’s edge and let the light peach taste come through.

*The only class I ever failed in High School was Geography and it’s been said more than once that I lack any sort of natural sense of direction. Maybe I just didn’t have the proper incentive, then šŸ˜‰

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

Nibbles

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.

Wassail!

Sips

Here we come a-wassailing
Among the leaves so green;
Here we come a-wand’ring
So fair to be seen.
Love and joy come to you,
And to you your wassail too;
And God bless you and send you
a happy New Year.

Growing up, I often heard the traditional carol about wassailing sung with caroling in place of the unfamiliar word, leading me to think that wassail was just another word for going around, singing carols to the neighborhood. Makes sense, right? When in actuality, wassail (originally was hĆƒĘ’Ć‚Ā”l in the Old English) translates to “be in good health/fortunate” and is more like a toast than a song.

Of course, there’s also a drink by that name that has roots in the ancient Roman drink of spiced wine known as hypocras. In the Middle Ages the wine and the spices used in it made it a drink for the elite rather than the masses, until beer and other spirits came into the mix, making it more of an everyman drink. During the revelry of the holidays the practice of sharing a bowl (literally, a large bowl filled with the spiced brew and passed from one person to another with the litany of “wassail” and “drink hail” being repeated all the way around) among the household took the streets much like the carolers and other merry-makers of the time at which the wanders would offer the houses a drink (expecting some small payment in return) or the wanderers being offered one by the home owners. Very convivial, no matter how you look at it.

To make your own wassail, either for Christmas or, as is more correct, New Years Eve, combine the following in a large saucepan (enameled or glass being better for it than a reactive-metal type)

2 qt Lager
5 oz Simple syrup
3 ox Lemon juice
1 tsp Nutmeg
1 tsp Ginger
1 qt Dark rum

Heat this mixture until hot but not boiling and pour into a heat-proof punch bowl (unless, of course, you have a pewter or wooden Wassail bowl handy) over thinly sliced apples and lemons. Give it a few stirs and ladle into waiting mugs. This amount should serve about 10 people, depending on how large the mugs are or dry their throats!

Toast to all with a merry Wassail and enjoy the rest of the holiday season!

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.