Molly Sheridan
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Molly

It’s Getting Hot In Here: Yemisir Kik Wot

lentils_top
February 29, 2012 By In eat me, mains

There is just not a beautiful way to serve a scoop of lentils. No matter how amazing they taste, how perfectly they are spiced, the visual is just not that inspiring. Or maybe that’s just me. Do you have a secret you’d care to share?

Anyway, as I mentioned a couple days ago, I was infatuated with the Yemisir Kik Wot I had tasted recently and wanted to try my hand making it at home. Thanks to a favorite cookbook of mine and some internet research, I made a plan. It wouldn’t be 100% authentically Ethiopian, perhaps, but that mattered much less to me than that it be really, really good.

First, I made my berbere paste.

one pot

And then I made a Yemisir Kik Wot that was only a slightly tweaked version of this recipe, adaptations based on what I had on hand, the potency of my spices, and the fact that I could not seem to pry the lid off my canister of turmeric (!!) more than any serious reason I saw to alter the original.

The kitchen being absent of any freshly baked injera, I served mine with a pile of kale sautéed in oil, garlic, and ginger, with a dab of harissa on the side, since I just happened to have some on hand (ahem).

Yemisir Kik Wot
variation on this recipe from Marla in the Kitchen

1/4 cup olive oil
1 red onion, chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 T. ginger, minced
2 tsp. curry powder
1/2 tsp. garam masala
1 1/2 tsp. berbere paste
3/4 cup canned diced tomatoes
12 oz. small red lentils
4-5 cups vegetable broth, as needed

Heat the oil in a 4 qt. soup pot and sauté the onion until softened and translucent. Add the garlic and cook for several minutes more. Next, add all the spices to the pot, stirring continuously to prevent burning. After a minute or two, add the tomatoes and cook for five minutes, stirring frequently.

Finally, add the stock and lentils, and simmer until they are very soft and have melded together, about 45 minutes.

Hot Topic: Harissa and Berbere Paste

berbere
February 27, 2012 By In condiments & pickles, diy, eat me

I think it was the mix of vibrant sun and biting wind this past weekend that inspired me to finally do something constructive with the bag of dried hot peppers sitting in my pantry. A friend had shared her beautiful stash with me, along with a family recipe for a fantastic-sounding chili; hopefully she won’t mind the project detour I ultimately took with her ingredients.

In truth, I had been contemplating making berbere paste for years–ever since discovering a recipe for it in the pages of the World Food Cafe cookbook in 2002. It seemed so exotic! But then I’d read the long list of ingredients and find myself getting sleepy before even making it into the kitchen. So, as with overly complicated knitting projects and 1,000 piece picture puzzles, it got pushed to the back of the closet, an idea for some rainy day down the line.

Spices

A crisp, sunny day offers the perfect opportunity to visit my favorite Punjab Market in Waverly and stock up on spices.

Then a funny thing happened. I bought a small container of a spicy lentil stew from the Ethiopian stall at the Waverly Market and found my motivation: I was going to make a big pot of Yemisir Kik Wot (more on that later).

In truth, making the berbere paste is not actually difficult. It’s just a long list of spices that must be measured and toasted and ground, mixed with a paste of vinegar, onion, ginger, and garlic. After all that, you net a baby food jar’s worth of product–one that you may find yourself opening for no reason other than to breathe in its amazing aromas and dreaming of as you sleep at night.

Berbere Paste
from the World Food Cafe cookbook

2 garlic cloves, peeled and sliced
1/2 inch piece of ginger, minced
3 green onions, sliced
1 T cider vinegar
1/2 tsp. peppercorns
1/2 tsp. cardamom seeds
1/2 tsp. coriander seeds
1/2 tsp. fenugreek seeds
1 tsp. cumin seeds
4 cloves
8 dried red chili peppers
4 tsp. ground sweet paprika
1 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. ground allspice
1/4 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp. ground nutmeg

Measure whole spices into a bowl. Heat a dry skillet and toast them until lightly browned and fragrant. Toss frequently and take care not to burn them. Next, grind the whole spices and dried peppers finely (I use a cheap electric coffee grinder that I reserve just for this purpose). Measure the powdered spices into the mixture as well. Set aside.

Place the garlic, ginger, onions, and vinegar in the bowl of a food processor (since there is so little to mix, after some trial and error, I had much better luck using the small processor that came with my immersion blender as opposed to my powerhouse Cuisinart). Process into a paste, then add all the ground spices and continue mixing till well combined. Pack into a small glass jar with a tight-fitting lid and refrigerate until needed.

one pot

Since I had barely dented my Ziploc bag full of dried peppers and I already had every spice I own out on the counter, I decided to just keep going and try my hand at making a batch of Harissa while I was at it (plus, there was a soup using it that I’d just read about and wanted to try…convenient!). After all that berbere paste activity, this one seemed sinfully low-effort.

Harissa
also from the World Food Cafe cookbook

2 oz. dried hot red chilies
2 T cumin seeds
3 T coriander seeds
4 garlic cloves
1 tsp. salt
5 T olive oil

Remove any stems or seeds from dried chilies and soak the peppers in warm water for about an hour.

Meanwhile, measure whole spices into a bowl. Heat a dry skillet and toast them until lightly browned and fragrant. Toss frequently and take care not to burn them. Grind the whole spices finely and set aside.

Once the peppers have softened, drain and place in the bowl of a food processor. Add ground spices, garlic, and salt, and run processor until peppers break down and a paste begins to form (I had to stop and scrape down the bowl repeatedly, and even then only got half way there).

spice row

Next, with the processor running, slowly drizzle in the oil. This is where my harissa finally came together, much like a pesto. Keep processing until smooth. Pack into a glass jar with a tight-fitting lid and refrigerate until needed. Works as a condiment and in soups and stews (more on that later, as well).

hot clean

Where All Roads Lead: Banana Bread

bread_toppattern
February 23, 2012 By In breads & breakfast, eat me

When I thought about working on a banana bread recipe, my mental picture book immediately flipped back to the stop Brian and I made in Maui along the phenomenally picturesque Hāna Highway (a.k.a. The Road to Divorce Court, due to how stressful the single-lane, twisty driving can be–just add rain for extra fun on the way back!). A little detour on this trek put us in front of a food cart that our guidebook indicated was an island must-try–Aunt Sandy’s banana bread at the Keanae Landing Fruit Stand. While some quick Googling did not turn up the famed roadside attraction’s secret recipe, it did teach me that I am not the first food blogger to have considered re-inventing it at home.

Nor the second.

Not to be put off the path so easily, however, I read and researched various takes on banana bread in general and the Hawaiian vacationer’s experience in the specific, and even re-examined my vacation photographs, looking for clues. However, as the recipes got more and more complicated, my memories were telling me that the bread was quite upfront about its banana-ness. With that image in mind, I decided I would start with the banana bread recipe that appears in my heavy duty vegetarian cookbook for the fat-to-flour-to-baking-soda-to-liquid proportioning (the science of baking still eludes me somewhat), strip it down even further, and build it back up. In the end, I didn’t ditch the walnuts nuts, but chopped them small (while dreaming of macadamias), swapped coconut oil for butter plus a handful of shredded coconut for added tropical-ness, and spiced it up as suited my tastes.

Genuine vacation photo of Aunt Sandy's banana bread. I don't see nuts. Do you see nuts?

While the road to Hana may be narrow and fraught with blind curves and steep drop-offs, the path to tasty banana bread seems wide open, welcoming interpretation. I wouldn’t dream of comparing mine to Aunt Sandy’s, but even from miles away, the attempt has left me feeling just a bit of that Hawaiian sun. In Baltimore. In February.

banana bread ingredients

Aunt Molly’s Banana Bread
based on 100 internet recipes and 1 woman’s memories of Maui

1/2 cup coconut oil
3/4 cup brown sugar (up to 1 full cup if you like it sweeter)
2 eggs
3 very ripe bananas, mashed
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
2 cups AP flour
1 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. kosher salt
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/4 tsp. nutmeg
3/4 cup walnuts, chopped
1/4 cup unsweetened shredded coconut

Preheat over to 350F. Grease a 9″x5″ loaf pan and line bottom and sides with a piece of parchment, leaving enough overhanging that you’ll be able to lift the bread out when baking is complete.

Measure flour, baking soda, salt, spices, nuts, and coconut into a medium bowl and run a whisk around it to evenly combine.

In the bowl of a stand mixer or using a hand mixer, cream oil and sugar, then mix in the eggs one at a time, and then bananas and vanilla extract, scrape the bowl down in between additions. Next, stir in dry ingredients with a spoon just until combined and spread evenly into the loaf pan. Bake for 55 minutes, or until golden and cake tester comes out clean. Remove from pan and cool on a wire rack.

When cool, wrap it in plastic wrap and carry it around in your purse for a couple hours in order for the full vacation/nostalgia effect to kick in. Best rabidly torn off in hunks and eaten when desperately in need of an afternoon snack, legs knee deep in warm ocean water.

bread_slice

Almost English: Sourdough Breakfast Muffins

muffin_top
February 19, 2012 By In breads & breakfast, eat me

More than a month ago, I ordered a sourdough starter and some English muffin rings from King Arthur Flour, and while the sourdough has subsequently been put through its paces, those eight metal rings have just been sitting in the pantry, taunting me whenever I open the door to retrieve some other item. The thing of it is, most of the English muffin recipes I’ve found need to be cooked on a griddle that I do not have, and the only pan in my arsenal that would suit can fit a grand total of two of these biscuit holders simultaneously. That seemed a recipe for frustration, no matter how you shaped it.

Meanwhile, there were recipes out there for baking them, but they weren’t for sourdough English muffins, and I was peculiarly stuck on this point. The clock was ticking down on me yesterday, my available slot for proofing and baking shrinking rapidly as my fingers Googled (you can feel the Jason Bourne-like tension here, right?) when I discovered this recipe on the King Arthur site and realized it met my desires of the moment perfectly. All-in-one-bowl mixing! Only a smidge more than an hour rising time! This morning, the fluffy little muffins fresh out of the toaster also hit my breakfast desires right on the spot, so we’re going call this one a clean win. If I had to sacrifice the cute little nooks and crannies to get here, so be it. Next time…

The griddle question, however, remains. Being vegetarian, I don’t have call to cook up sausage patties or suchlike, but I would love to dig deeper into Indian flatbreads, which also make use of a large, hot surface. Any shopping suggestions?

English muffin rings from King Arthur Flour

Sourdough Breakfast Biscuits
from King Arthur Flour

1 T instant yeast
1/2 cup warm water
1 cup sourdough starter, refreshed
2 tablespoons sugar
2 tsp. kosher salt
1/2 cup dried milk
3 cups AP flour
2 T oil
1 egg
cornmeal (for dusting)

Place yeast and water in a large bowl or stand mixer and stir to dissolve. Add all remaining ingredients (aside from the cornmeal) and knead, but hand or by hook, until a smooth dough has formed. Turn out onto a flour counter, cover with a towel, and allow to rest for 30 minutes.

After the initial bench rest, roll dough out (about 1/2 inch thick) to fit 8 3 1/2 inch English muffin rings. Cut out muffins. Place rings on the sheet and dust the inside of each circle with cornmeal. Place a round of dough inside each ring, dust the tops with cornmeal, and place a second baking sheet over top, balanced on the to of the metal rings. Allow to rise for 40 minutes.

Preheat oven to 375F. When rise is complete, bake muffins (still covered with second baking sheet) for 25 minutes or until tops are golden. Cool for 10 minutes on the sheet then remove rings and transfer to a wire rack.

pesto

The interior will not have all the nooks and crannies of traditional English muffins, but I split one with a fork and found the interior soft and chewy and quite satisfactory all the same.

I’ve toasted and consumed two more without a complaint, topped with some kale pesto. What can I say? I have a thing for leafy green condiments.

I used this Tastespotting recipe, though I substituted a teaspoon of nutritional yeast for the cheese.

Apples and Oranges: The Calvados Cocktail

calvados_top
February 15, 2012 By In drink me

I’m the kind of girl who tends toward secondhand stores and camping vacations, so my husband has taken up stealth note taking whenever we’re in a shop where I actually admit to a passing interest in a material object before checking the price and setting it back down. What can I say? I inherited my father’s thrift and my mother’s fear of malls; I rarely suffer buyer’s remorse as a result.

This personal, um, quirk is how I came to be gifted a lovely bottle of Calvados Boulard for Valentine’s Day, inspired by a recurring event that goes like this: I decide to make this soup, consider buying a bottle of Calvados to use as indicated in the recipe but then, after noting the price, decide to just make do without–substituting a bit of unspecialized brandy or bourbon if we happen to have it on hand.

I haven’t had the chance to lace Calvados into anything just yet, of course, but I decided to explore what cocktails might put it to immediate good use in the meantime. I settled on this one, and I am not disappointed. So much so, in fact, I might actually replace the bottle of Coin­treau that’s now empty!

The Calvados Cocktail
More or less as it appears in Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails, though much lighter on the bitters

1 1/2 oz Cal­va­dos
1 1/2 oz freshly squeezed orange juice (really, it’s worth it, and one orange should get you there)
3/4 oz Coin­treau
2 dashes bitters

The Calvados Cocktail process

Chill glassware. Measure ingredients into a cocktail shaker filled with ice. Shake and strain onto a coupe glass. Cheers!

The Calvados Cocktail process

A Little Piece of My Heart

letter_top
February 12, 2012 By In eat me, sweets

A few years ago, a very dear friend gave me a Hungarian cookbook that had once belonged to her grandmother. My gram was Hungarian, but never met a recipe she wanted to follow or write down, so this book has been my next best reference whenever I get homesick for the meals she used to make.

That goes some way towards explaining how I found myself paging though it on a recent 25 degree day, sick and cold and thinking of nothing but the comfort of soup with dumplings. However, a yellowing bookmark was still tucked into its pages marking off the recipe for Hungarian Love Letters and, what can I say? The antihistamines had me lulled into a sentimental mood, and with Valentine’s Day just around the corner, the next thing I knew I was baking.

Though the idea of rolling out dough into very thin sheets initially filled me with serious dread, I have to say that this dough was fascinatingly easy to work with. It doesn’t stick (as long as the counter is floured) while rolling or even hint at breaking when picked up. I was not moved to foul language even once during the assembly process. So bake with confidence! If I can do it, I suspect most will have no issue.

butter

Why, yes, that *is* a lot of butter; it will be worth it.

I also used my food processor a lot. I’m sure you can make this with a pastry cutter and a box grater just like grandma used to do in the old country but (see above about the foul language) I’m glad I had mechanical assistance.

In the golden light of the late afternoon, when all that flaky goodness was served with hot tea, it felt like a love letter indeed.

Hungarian Love Letters/Szerelmes Level

Hungarian Love Letters/Szerelmes Level
adapted from Flavors of Hungary : Recipes and Memoirs by Charlotte Biro (1973)

For the pastry

2 2/3 cups AP flour
1 1/4 cups butter, cubed
1 egg plus 1 egg yolk
1/2 cup cold milk

For the filling

3.5 oz walnuts, finely chopped
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup graham cracker crumbs
1 tsp cinnamon
3/4 cup raisins
2 lbs green apples

1 egg, beaten, for wash

Place flour and butter cubes in the bowl of a food processor and pulse until butter is broken down into coarse bits. Beat egg and yolk into the milk and, with the processor running, add this mixture to the flour and butter. Turn dough out onto the counter and work any remaining dry bits in with your hands until a smooth dough is formed. Divide into three equal pieces, flatten each into inch-thick ovals, and wrap with plastic. Refrigerate for three hours.

In a medium bowl, mix walnuts, sugar, graham cracker crumbs, and cinnamon. Peel, core, and shred apples. Preheat over to 350F.

Line a baking sheet with parchment. Remove chilled dough one piece at a time and roll out into a thin sheet (mine was 11×14). Place dough on baking sheet and top it with two-thirds of the nut and crumb mixture. Sprinkle raisins evenly over top. Roll out and top with second layer of dough. Squeeze excess juice from shredded apples and distribute over the top of the second dough sheet, then sprinkle remaining nut mixture evenly over the fruit. Roll out the final piece of dough and lay it over top.

Hungarian Love Letters/Szerelmes Level

Using a bench knife or similar, square up the edges of the dough and discard excess. Generously brush pastry with egg wash. Using a fork, punch lines into the top of the pastry. I divided mine into 12 squares and punched out the lines along those division, to vent the pastry and aide in cutting them through after baking.

Bake for 35 minutes or until evenly browned. Place on a wire rack and cool completely. Serving this with a bit of freshly whipped cream would not be a bad idea.