BlogOfParadox

Archive for the ‘recipes’ Category

I’ve gotten a few requests for the oatcake I made last week. Think of it as the Irish equivalent of cornbread. Think of it as the sacred bread of a goddess-saint. Think of it as breakfast. Think of it as dessert. Think of it on your countertop, steaming defiantly in the face of winter.

Feast for St. Brigidt’s

Makes 12 8 4 servings, if no one goes all reality tv devious while you’ve looked away.

• 1 1/2 cups buttermilk
• 1/2 cup Irish steel-cut oats (McCann’s is straight from County Kildare!)
• 1/2 cup oat flour
• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon celtic sea salt
• 2/3 cup sugar
• 2 tablespoons honey or golden syrup (I like Lyle’s)
• 1/4 cup canola oil
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 tablespoon Irish whiskey
• 1 large egg
• Baker’s Joy

Preparation
Combine buttermilk and oats; cover and refrigerate 8 hours. GAH!

Preheat oven to 375° F.

Lightly spoon flours into a dry measuring cup; level with a blade.

Combine flours, baking powder, baking soda, and salt, stirring with a whisk.

Place sugar, honey/syrup and oil in a large bowl; add vanilla, Jameson’s and egg; mix until well blended. Stir in oat mixture; stir until well blended. Add flour mixture, beating just until moist.

Scrape batter into a deep baking pan coated with cooking spray. Bake at 375° F for 30 minutes or until a wooden pick inserted in center comes out clean. Cool 10 minutes in pan on a wire rack. Devour with local honey and Irish butter.

I posted a photo of my dinner to Twitter last night, and enough people asked about it that I thought I’d post a formula.

My dear husband is a scientist at heart. He does not understand how I can bear to cook without thoroughly documenting results, but I often do. It’s not that I set out to intentionally leave no trace of my exploits, but that I’m so immersed in the experience I don’t want to pull back and analyze the components.

I don’t ever measure anything but the grains and liquid when making risotto, pearled barley or otherwise. I usually use a 1:4 ratio between grain and liquid, because it gives the rice or barley more time to realize its creamiest potential. I use about 1/4 cup of grains per person I’m feeding, and 1/3 cup for folks who don’t eat many vegetables. Everything else is subject to the contents in my pantry, the people who are going to eat it and my mood.

I’m also a risotto heretic: I’m one of those people who will employ a rice cooker if I’m not thrilled by the idea of stirring a pot continuously for 20 minutes or more.  You can even soften onions and garlic in the bottom of a rice cooker,  then steam vegetables or meat on top if you have a steamer insert. Fortune favors the bold.

Use olive oil, butter or your favorite fat to coat the pan’s bottom.

Add a handful of finely chopped aromatics (onions, shallots, leeks, spicy seeds,  garlic) and let them fizzle in the oil until soft. Add barley and stir.

Let the mixture toast for a minute or two, because it imparts a subtle flavor to the dish.

Add your liquid. You can add a little wine to your stock if you like. Some are sticklers and insist you have to be a slave to the pot, adding liquid as it goes. If I want a moving meditation, I do that, but if I’m just damned hungry and want some creamy grains, I just pour all the liquid into the rice cooker and walk away to work on the accompaniments.

I chopped a large fennel bulb into small pleasing shapes and sauteed it with just a scant bit of olive oil. Toward the end, I added fennel seed to toast in the pan. You can do this with any vegetable, though: I love pumpkin or a similar squash, carmelized with sage. Shredded Brussels Sprouts in bacon grease would be an excellent choice as well.

Your grains will be ready for plating when they’re tender and resemble a thick porridge. It’s best not to rely on the rice cooker (because it will try and cook away all the liquid), but if you lose track of time, you can just add a bit more stock and keep an eye on it. If you like your risotto extra creamy, you can stir in a little cream, sour cream, creme fraiche, ricotta  or yogurt at this point.

Finishing elements are important, and transform risotto from a gruel-like deceiver to a elegant dinner party. I commonly stir in nutmeg, cracked pepper and parmesan cheese, though I’ll often use brewer’s yeast as a parm replacement if I have a vegan guest. Lemon zest is a gorgeous topper, as well. If I’m feeling very lazy, I stir in spinach or arugula so I don’t have to fuss with a salad.

I make a bed of vegetables for the risotto, then pile it on.  I’ll often top with toasted nuts, more cheese and nutmeg. Last night, I chopped fennel fronds to feather across the top, providing beauty and an anise bite.

I haven’t been blogging much, but it doesn’t mean I haven’t been writing.

My first food column ran yesterday in the Jackson Free Press. It’s called Salad Days: Avoiding Lettuce Burnout, and includes recipes for a deconstructed pesto salad and a cookout-friendly Grilled Caesar.

If you’re so inclined, please login and leave feedback!

Last night, I made a variation of Habeas Brulee’s  Tea Cookies.  Instead of the oolong she used, I went with jasmine green tea.  I also used orange flower-scented sugar to coat the cookies, because I love flowers in food.  My miniature citrus plants are blooming for the very first time (they’re about four years old now!) and the smell is lovely.  The resulting cookies were well-balanced, not too sweet, and fragrant without any cloying overtones.  I’d love to make these with my Margo-inspired Madge Shelton tea (black tea spiked with rose, spearmint and pink peppercorn).

I’ll be taking a baker’s dozen to the Ink Spot this evening.  We’ll be working on the rose and the poppy this time, which will round out the largest components of the design.  The rose is a Handel, one of my mother’s favorite flowers.  She grew one next to our front door, untrellised, and the carnivorous beast used to demand blood toll from nearly every visitor.  I can’t tell you how many times that damned rose stabbed me in the left arm growing up, so this seems like fitting tribute.  I planted poppies in our garden when we were still considering a backyard wedding, hoping for a sea of orange and red.  They were a prominent motif on our wedblog (along with ginkgo), and I used them in my bouquet for our cheesy awesome Vegas wedding.

All of these pieces of my life are beautiful, especially together.

Victor Sodsook calls this Kwaytiow Sen Yai Phat Phrik Sod Kap See-Eu Wan. I call it dangerously tasty.

WARNING: If you have rivet-goggles, swimmer’s goggles, or any sort of protective eyewear that will spare you the sensation of being maced in the face, I suggest you wear them. I wear German Welder’s goggles:  friends can attest to this. I am totally not kidding.

WARNING: This recipe had a hand in driving an overdue baby to vacate to more roomy, less Capsaicin-drenched quarters within 24 hours of its consumption.

Ingredients

15-30 small Thai chilies. FIFTEEN to THIRTY. I like them at 17-20.
10 cloves garlic (I usually double this, because I am a garlic fiend)
1 package rice noodles: prepared, drained
2 Tbs veg. oil
2 Tbs Thai fish sauce
1 tsp white pepper
3 Tbs sweet black soy (this is the unctuous molasses-based soy)
1 Tbs Oyster sauce
1 1/2 Tbs sugar
1 1/2 cu holy basil leaves, or 3/4 cu each of mint and basil leaves.

Optional but highly recommended
sliced chicken breasts, quorn or cubed med. hard tofu
egg omelet (best with creamy fresh duck eggs)
bamboo shoots

Instructions

PUT ON YOUR GOGGLES.
Pulverize 1 Tb oil, garlic and chilies in food processor together. Heat other Tb oil in med-hot wok while you do this.
Turn on your cooktop vent. Take a deep breath. Dump the chili mixture into your wok and stir vigorously for about 15 seconds. Exhale. Proceed to laugh at anyone not wearing goggles who adamantly refused to leave the room.
Add tofu or Chicken; stir-fry for about a minute.
Add fish sauce.
Add noodles and stir rapidly for another 30 seconds.
Add pepper and sweet black soy. Stir, and marvel at the beautiful mahogany color the soy turns the noodles.
Add Oyster sauce, sugar, bamboo shoots and/or duck omelet; stir-fry for a minute.
Turn off the heat. Stir in the herbs and let them wilt.
Remove goggles.
Serve immediately.

For dessert, I recommend sweetened coconut milk “ice cream” on warm sticky rice, or red grapefruit + orange segments steeped in rosewater syrup.

This dish will give your guests the exciting sensation of a string of firecrackers exploding in their mouths, and then rapidly dropping to a much more bearable level. You take a bite, wince, and then immediately fall victim to the spice’s dangerous wiles. You keep eating. You can’t help yourself.

Why, yes: that is a 211-calorie, poached seckel pear atop an island of ooey dark chocolate, and surrounded by a reduction of its poaching liquid (red wine.)This could very well be the most sophisticated, schmancy sex-ass dessert I’ve ever made, and it was ABSURDLY simple. To prove that haute eats can sometimes be born in less lofty places, next time, I will submerge the pear in a wine-filled coffee mug and poach it in the microwave.

1 wee seckel pear, peeled and cored (3 oz., ~50 calories)
1 square dark chocolate (10g, 56 calories)
5 oz. red wine (~105 calories for a semi-dry red)
(Optional, splenda to sweeten the wine. OF COURSE you may use honey or sugar, but your calorie count will differ.)

Use the smallest pot you have. Steam/poach the pear in wine (depending upon your pan size, you’ll have to swirl the pear to ensure even cooking) This’ll take 5-8 minutes.

Put a dark chocolate square in your serving dish. When the pear is finished cooking, put the steaming pear onto the chocolate square. Don’t fiddle with it.

Reduce the wine by 2/3rds. You can add spices and/or sweetener any time here, to taste. When the wine looks dark and inviting, pour it over the pear and chocolate square.

Give it a few seconds to completely liquify the chocolate before serving. Revel in your success.

In retrospect, I should have turned the plate for maximum suggestive appeal.