Molly Sheridan
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Molly

The Beet of My Heart

beettower_top-copy
February 5, 2012 By In condiments & pickles, eat me, salads, sides

It started with the beets.

This weekend I went on a bit of a tear cooking with my eyes more than anything else, and it all began when I spotted a lovely box filled with deep purple beets from Gardener’s Gourmet at the farmers’ market. Since I’d also managed to stuff some cilantro, limes, buttermilk, and broccoli into my basket while shopping, when I got back home, I worked out a plan of attack that looked like this:

First, I got the oven going and made another one of these for the husband.

Then, while the oven was hot, I cleaned, cubed, and roasted the beets like this, though the yogurt dressing I made was pressed garlic, grated ginger, and a whole lime worth of juice. I also made a batch of my favorite chutney.

Beet Hummus and Chutney

Hands stained and taste buds pleased, I knew that I had more roasted beets than even a girl like me could want to eat straight, so I took about half of them and, once they were cool, mixed them with a cup of chick peas and more or less made this version of beet hummus. Meanwhile, I roasted the broccoli pretty much like this (though not for quite as long, as it was getting quite dry).

In the end, lunch looked like this:

Which was pretty in its way, but later I realized I was imagining something a little more dramatic, like this:


Beet Tower Appetizer

I’ve got a couple avocados and some Mexican limes still hanging out in the crisper drawer, so I’m not sure I’m done building yet.

Yes, This Is Just Soup (No Lunchbox Edition)

soup_top
February 3, 2012 By In eat me, soups

I’m really getting into soup for lunch, especially now that I’ve started just drinking it out of a Mason jar. When I need to travel, I pop a lid on it and toss it in my bag; when I’m working at home, that still means less silverware to wash. Either way, my computer keyboard remains un-sticky and crumb-free.

Plus, it’s winter (ostensibly), and I’m a girl who loves her roasted root vegetables and her immersion blender. Lately, I’m also loving buttermilk for baking and salad dressings, so a little of that goes in the pot as well. You see how this works?

Soup is one of the few cooking areas where I feel safe stirring without a net because while I’m sure you can complicate soup, you can generally make it simply out of what’s around, keeping things interesting. With that in mind, here are two of my recent “what’s in the ‘fridge” weekend concoctions, all made as a way to use up ingredients from other meals I had planned to cook but then never got around to producing. I feel weird calling these “recipes,” since really they could both be reduced to your basic: Add a little fat to a pot and saute some onion or garlic or leeks and/or herbs and spices. Then, add some veggies (roasted when it suits) and broth or water. Simmer to combine flavors and soften up any ingredients that need it. Then puree and add some creaminess (milk, cream, yogurt, cheese) if you like. Garnish if you’re feeling fancy and serve hot!

However, for those who would like a little more in the way of measurement (my husband hates it when I say, “You know, just put in a little!” and yet I continue to say this kind of thing all the time), here are the specifics (more or less).

No lunch box required!

Baked Sweet Potato Soup

3 large sweet potatoes
2 T olive oil
1 cup white onion, chopped
2 tsp. Vindaloo seasoning
1/2 tsp. paprika (Mine is quite hot, so this added a nice spice punch to balance the sweetness of the potatoes without me resorting to cayenne, which I’m starting to admit I really just don’t like.)
3 cups vegetable broth
1 cup buttermilk
salt to taste

Preheat oven to 425°F.

Wash and prick sweet potatoes with a fork and set on a foil-lined baking tray. Roast till quite soft, about 60 minutes. When cool enough to handle, scoop out flesh and set aside. Mine popped right out of their skins with very little effort. Discard peels.

Heat oil in a soup pot and saute onion until softened and translucent, about 10 minutes. Add spices and continue cooking about 1 minute. Then add reserved sweet potato and vegetable broth. Simmer for 20 minutes.

Remove from heat and puree soup. Add buttermilk and salt, adjusting seasoning and consistency to suit your tastes.

Roasted Celeriac and Parsnip Soup

1 large celeriac, peeled and cubed
4-5 parsnips, peeled and cubed
4 T olive oil, divided
3 leeks, washed and sliced
2 tsp. curry powder (I used a grocery store one I have that is much tamer that others I use, which I felt suited the soup)
5 cups vegetable stock or water
1 cup buttermilk
salt to taste
pomegranate molasses to garnish (totally optional)

Preheat oven to 425°F.

Line a baking tray with foil and pile cubed vegetable on top. Drizzle with 2T olive oil and toss well to coat. Sprinkle with salt if desired and roast for about 40 minutes, stirring partway through to prevent burning. Vegetables should be somewhat browned and caramelized.

In a soup pot, heat the remaining 2 T olive oil and sauté leeks until softened. Add curry powder, roasted vegetables, and the stock or water and simmer for 20 minutes.

Remove from heat and puree soup. Add buttermilk and salt, adjusting seasoning and consistency to suit your tastes. I feel that a little drizzle of pomegranate molasses, if you have a bottle taking up space in your refrigerator as I do, makes a nice accent.

Don’t Lick the Screen

February 3, 2012 By In the rabbit hole

[via NPR]

I know this is old in internet time, but I just can’t stop watching this butter commercial. Maybe it’s all the “Big Game” hype that has me commercially minded this week, but still. The color is obviously eye-popping and it’s about food, so there’s that connection. But I think it’s actually the sound design under the creepy vocal line that has me obsessed.

That said, director Dougal Wilson clearly has a handle on the visual. Here’s another one of his creations:

Aww…I feel emotionally manipulated, which I’m pretty sure means it worked.

Pas Grand Chose

bread_top1
January 28, 2012 By In breads & breakfast, eat me

After two consecutive weekends making sourdough bread using recipes that took literally days to complete, I was transfixed by this little gem while paging through the new King Arthur Flour catalog with my morning coffee: a recipe for French Herb Bread. It wasn’t just that I had recently stumbled across an adorable little bag of Herbes de Provence in my pantry (a souvenir of a French vacation–sadly, not mine). It was that the whole kit and kaboodle went into the mixing bowl in one go and would come out of the oven just a few short hours later. I was smitten, and the butter wasn’t even melting on the bread yet.

By 8:15 a.m., it was measured and mixed and proofing in the oven. By lunchtime, there was toast and by 11 p.m. there was still time for just one more slice before bed, with no one else the wiser. Good thing it’s a quick mix.

French Herb Bread

Look, ma! One bowl (and practically clean already).

French Herb Bread
from King Arthur Flour

1 1/4 cups warm water
2 T olive oil
3 cups (12 3/4 ounces) AP Flour
2 T nonfat dry milk
1/2 cup dried potato flakes
2 T herbes de Provence
1 tsp. salt
1 1/2 tsp. instant yeast

Place warm water and yeast into a bowl or stand mixer. Stir to dissolve. Add remaining ingredients and mix, then knead, by hand or by dough hook. Mine was soft and light, but not sticky. Place in a lightly oiled bowl, cover, and let rise for one hour.

French Herb Bread dough

After the first rise is complete, deflate dough and shape into a loaf. Place in a lightly oiled 9″ x 5″ loaf pan, cover loosely with greased plastic wrap, and allow to rise again until it has crowned about an inch over the rim of the pan. Towards the end of the rising time, preheat the oven to 350°F. My second rise took no more than 30 minutes, so don’t delay getting your oven to temperature.

Bake the bread for 35 to 40 minutes. Remove from pan and allow to cool completely on a wire rack.

Let’s Get Re-Started (Sourdough Edition)

Sourdough Bread
January 24, 2012 By In breads & breakfast, eat me

Sourdough baking is an art. I keep reading that, over and over again, in baking instructions and supportive blog posts. But what I’m beginning to realize is that sourdough is not just an “art” in terms of its many variables, but also in how it will test you, the artist: thrill you with its vigor, slay you with its stubbornness, awe you with the perfect caramel color of its crust, yet refuse to follow whatever logic you thought you grasped about baking bread when you walked into your kitchen. Or at least that’s the line I’ve been feeding myself, since two weekends of trials have left me a little hungry for, you know, actual edible bread.

Despite my “third time’s a charm” success with those Tartine bread experiments last year, I admittedly lost interest in the labor-intensive process over the very hot summer. I revitalized my sourdough enthusiasm this winter with a brand new starter (for $6.95, it was just too tempting a creature to not tack on to my last King Arthur Flour order). It’s a vigorous little beast, but user error on my first Tartine re-try resulted in a flat loaf and a poorly cooked pizza, all on the same day. It was quite dispiriting.

But onward and upward to true adventure, eh? I tossed the photographic evidence of my failures into that “disasters” sub-folder I’m saving for a rainy day post of hilarity, and this past weekend I gave it all another go. For this venture, I settled on the King Arthur recipe that came packaged with the starter itself, but this being art, I immediately started tweaking. I couldn’t help myself! Once again the half of the dough I relegated to pizza crust was not food blog worthy (attributable, I believe, to a too-soft dough combined with my over-heavy hand with the olive oil). The loaf of bread the recipe produced, however, deserves a turn on the Wonderland catwalk. It might not be my perfect sourdough statement–yet!–but its thick and crispy golden crust and perfectly tangy wide-holed crumb are worth passing on, even if my poor bread slashing damaged its cover-girl good looks somewhat.

That just makes it “artisan,” right? The education continues.

Sourdough Bread

Sourdough Bread: It's science!

Sourdough Bread: Preparation

Sourdough Bread
adapted from King Arthur Flour

8 oz sourdough starter
12 oz warm water
21 oz flour
1 T kosher salt
2 tsps sugar

Feed your sourdough starter. After 10 hours at room temperature, remove an 8 oz portion and combine with the water and 12.75 oz of flour. Mix by hand (literally: after my Tartine training, I get my clean fingers in the dough whenever I can). Cover and let rest at a cool room temperature for 4 hours, then refrigerate for 12 hours.

When ready to proceed, remove dough from the refrigerator and knead in the salt, sugar, and enough flour to make a soft dough. I left mine a little on the wet side, but this is an art/science, like people keep typing. Experiments are needed to achieve the ideal crust/crumb/sourness/rise/etc. to suit your tastes. It is, perhaps, the ultimate story problem.

Cover and allow to rise until quite puffy (mine took 4 hours using my oven’s proofing feature). Remove the dough from the bowl and divide into two portions.

Shape each piece of dough into a round and place, top side down, in a rice-flour-dusted, cloth-lined banneton. Leave to rise an additional 2-4 hours.

When ready to bake, place a dutch oven or other appropriate covered pot in the oven and preheat to 450°F. When hot, remove the cooking vessel and (placing a circle of parchment inside to prevent sticking if desired) gently flip one portion of dough out of the basket and into the pot. Slash the top of the dough (a razor blade will work if you don’t have a lame, just be careful not to burn yourself on the hot pot), cover with the lid and return to the oven, baking for 25 minutes. Remove the lid and continue baking for an additional 20 minutes, until crust is deeply golden.

Remove and allow to cool completely on a wire rack. Repeat the process to bake your second loaf.

Take the G Train: Masala Knishes

knish_top
January 18, 2012 By In condiments & pickles, eat me, snacks

The winter chill that’s finally spiking the air has shifted kitchen activities to the production of warming comfort foods. By genetics, in this Slavic household that usually translates into dishes heavy (in all senses of the word) on noodles, cabbage, butter, and potatoes–pierogies if I’m feeling especially motivated. By instinct, however, I’m also given to nomadism, so wide swaths of culinary traditions tend to make regular border crossings.

It was that combination of weather and wanderlust that left me looking at my potatoes and feeling torn between knishes and samosas. The spice profile on the typical knish wasn’t packing the heat I was looking for, but even if the temperatures outside allowed for the addition of some body fat, a batch of deep-fried samosas was not how I was looking to apply the extra calories (to myself or my stove top). With years of multicultural fusion under my taste buds, a quick Brooklyn-Queens handshake seemed the obvious way to go.

Making Masala Knishes

Masala Knishes

To make the dough

1/2 cup water
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1 large egg
1/2 tsp. salt
2 1/2 cups flour

In a large bowl or stand mixer, combine water, oil, egg, and salt. Add flour and knead by hook or by hand until dough is soft yet smooth. Place dough in lightly oiled bowl, cover, and refrigerate while you make the filling.

To make the filling

3 Idaho baking potatoes, peeled and cubed
2 T vegetable oil
1/2 tsp. mustard seeds
2 tsp. hot curry powder
1 tsp. garam masala
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 cup onion, chopped
2 jalapeno peppers, finely chopped (adjust type and amount to your taste)
1/2 cup peas
Cayenne and/or black pepper and salt to taste
1 large egg
4 T chopped flat-leaf parsley

Additional egg for wash

Boil potatoes until fork-tender. Drain and set aside.

Heat oil in large skillet. When hot, add mustard seeds and allow to sputter and pop for a few seconds. Then add curry powder, garam masala, garlic, and onion and stir to coat. Continue to cook, stirring frequently, until onion has softened (about 10 minutes).

Pass cooked potatoes through a ricer (or mash with a fork) and add them to the skillet, as well as the jalapeno peppers, peas, and salt and pepper. Mix well and continue to cook until peas and peppers have softened. Remove from heat and set aside. When cool, adjust seasonings as needed and stir in egg and parsley.

Making Masala Knishes

To assemble and bake the masala knishes

When ready to assemble, line a baking sheet with parchment and preheat the oven to 350°F.

Remove dough from the refrigerator and turn it out onto a lightly floured surface. Divide into two portions. Roll the first piece into a 20″ by 10″ rectangle. Spread half the potato mixture along the bottom edge of the dough and roll it up to the top, ending seam-side down. Using a sharp knife or bench scraper, cut the log into 10 2-inch pieces and lay them out cut-side down on the baking sheet. Using your fingers, pull the other side of the cut dough up and over the top of each knish and pinch together, pushing down slightly in the middle of each and shaping gently into a round as needed. Don’t worry if some potato filling escapes through the top or is exposed on the underside. Repeat with remaining dough and filling.

Beat egg with a little water and brush over top of each knish.

Bake for 40 minutes, or until golden. Serve with tasty chutneys, such as this much-recommended cilantro version.

Disclaimer: This recipe was created for the Idaho Potato Commission’s February “Potato Lovers Month” promotion. I was financially compensated for my participation.