Molly Sheridan
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Three Cubed: B&O Fresh Fruit Shortcake

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March 27, 2011 By In eat me, three points kitchen

The Book: Dining on the B&O: Recipes and Sidelights from a Bygone Age

(2009, though the collection gathers recipes from instructions published decades earlier)

And now for a bite of dessert.

Kate conceptualized this Three Cubed cooking project as a way to expand our horizons and blow our minds, and so far it seems to be working! By forcing our spatulas a bit and getting us to try a few of the recipes we usually just skip over, we’re bound to be making things we have already decided won’t work out well or don’t meet our usual tastes, so there is a kind of odd dissonance at play in the kitchen during these experiments.

I had already been having an arms-length affair with my copy of Dining on the B&O. As I read through the special notes on everything from the salad dressings to the service style, I enjoyed imagining the staff in their efforts to pull decent dining out of a small, rocking and rolling kitchen (long before the microwaved chemistry we call travel dining today)–perhaps for Cary Grant, with his Gibson and his beautiful blonde, dining a la train car.

That all said, I never felt motivated to actually cook anything from it.

So this is exactly where the Three Points Baltimore branch decided to kick this project off. The B&O cookbook isn’t long, so I had to back up to page 127, where I was sad to see not only a dessert (we are not a dessert-eating household–birthday cakes and chocolate cookies are often, criminally, left to go stale on our countertops) but also one that required shortcakes. Images of spending hours producing dozens of cakes that no one would ever eat stomped on my enthusiasm somewhat, but I was committed to giving it a go.

Crisco was purchased (lard, it is suggested, produces a better flavor and I was sorely tempted to go all out in the name of nostalgia, but just couldn’t do it in the end). Once the measuring was actually in process, however, I realized that I was only going to end up with four petite biscuits and that portion of the production would take only about 10 minutes to assemble and 15 minutes to bake off. Plus, consisting of just a bit of fat, milk, flour, salt, and baking powder, the biscuits would end up a rather all-purpose addition to my general culinary skills, such as they are. I ate one plain as soon as they were out of the oven and had to resist a strong urge to eat all the rest, flaky and warm and temptingly sans sweet fruit.

Having no peaches or strawberries at hand, but a whole container of freshly cubed champagne mangoes in the fridge, I confess that I cheated on the fruit portion of this assignment. I whipped up some cream, assembled according the careful “chef’s notes” instruction as far as portion size was concerned (“tab” diners vs. a la carte changed the amount/price), snapped a few pics and called the resulting tower tasty. The only thing sweeter would have been to look out the window and see the station lights of some unknown city promising fresh adventure up ahead.

Feast O’ Yeast

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March 22, 2011 By In diy, drink me, from the bar, three points kitchen

In addition to the bread making and the butter churning, this year I have also begun running kitchen experiments in alcohol production. My first batch of strawberry wine was a disappointment–fully attributable to user error, I’m sure–but my subsequent stabs at short mead were much more encouraging. I stumbled on little kits from Ambrosia Farm that included a tea flavoring and a bit of yeast at last year’s Renaissance Fair–just add water and honey! Though I wasn’t expecting much from them other than entertainment, they were actually very tasty. Now I am hooked.

Due to interest (mine) and wrist injury (my friend Scott’s), I had the chance to serve as an apprentice homebrewer last weekend on a 5 gallon batch of beer. We followed the grand cru recipe from “The New Complete Joy of Homebrewing” by Charlie Papazian. Luckily for me, Scott knew exactly what he was doing, as I had not a clue. I am slightly worried to report that I now find this process immensely interesting as well. What can I say: I love food science.

Next up: Kitchen Sake!!

Prelude to a Feast

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March 11, 2011 By In eat me, three points kitchen

Three Points Kitchen is hosting its first group dinner in D.C. this weekend, and the cooking has already begun! With hints of spring on the horizon and a Persian theme on the table, a few quick pickles have been mixed for the fridge, an elderberry short mead bottled, some yogurt and chutney made up, and a couple flat breads baked (I will try my best not to eat them before Sunday!).

I’ll put my knife down and pick my camera up throughout the weekend, and we’ll catalog the recipes when it’s all over. Meanwhile, an amuse-bouche to get things started. Here we go!

Miles To Go

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February 12, 2011 By In eat me, three points kitchen

I feel as if I’m getting to the point in my bread-making experience where I’ve done just enough to know how very far I have yet to go before I’m really good at it. I take some small comfort in the idea that, having learned to play the violin as a child, the patience to pursue this slow curve is already trained into my hands. Here’s hoping the muscle memory kicks in as easily as it did when I was ten.


Feeling confident but not yet cocky about my basic country loaf, for try #4 out of the Tartine bread book I decided to mix it up just a bit and do a run of the baguette recipe using the fendu shape (also the version that appears on the cover of the book, I believe). In the end, I got bread alright, and plenty of it, but I also learned a lot of things. While nothing I did destroyed the end product, I think it will be a lot better next time when I mix the initial dough a bit more carefully (myself and my available bowls were overwhelmed by the sheer weight and volume of dough on the table) and, now that I have a a better feel for the flour and crease shape, I think I have a clearer understanding of how to get the correct look from the final loaf. Alas, I’ll just have to do it again. And again. Not to mention start purchasing flour in the large burlap-sack size.

I used to get seriously distressed when recipes didn’t work for me the first time out, and yet I have trouble following instructions to the letter. I learned to play music by ear and I find myself cooking more by picture and smell and feel than by any amount of typed direction. The more comfortable I get in my kitchen, the more value I place on making time to practice and play around with what I’m doing so that I’m actually learning something for the takeaway–risking mistakes for the chance of stumbling onto something more personally satisfying. It doesn’t make the occasional complete failure  any less frustrating, but I’m just starting to understand that I’ve been in this place before.

Tartine Basic Country Loaf: Try #1

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January 21, 2011 By In eat me, three points kitchen

At 8 a.m. I began mixing the dough for my first Tartine Basic Country Loaf. Well, you could say that I had been mixing it for going on two weeks, since it took that long to get my starter into shape. Now, with just flour and water and patience (and a bit of salt), I was going to make bread.

There was much measuring of flour and water (weight and temperature!). My nurtured starter proved itself ready for the task at hand. Much stirring and folding and folding and folding (every half hour, for most of the morning). And shaping and resting and rising and then…

After all that work and what I thought was a careful flouring of the towel lining my rising bowl (I’ve done the no-knead bread dance more than once), the dough napped for four hours and adhered itself firmly to the material in the process. So there I was, poised over a 500 degree dutch oven with an entire day of careful work flashing through my mind and a teardrop of dough stuck to a towel in my hands. In just the 3 seconds it took to flip the dough over, I thought all was lost. Foul language was used.

In the end, however, the bread forgave me this error, even if it did trade the attractive baker’s slashings for a surface more, um, rustic. Slicing into the first loaf, the crust was flaky and crisp, the inside boasting huge holes, a chewy texture, and a slight but extremely addictive sour note. I pronounced it excellent and made some cream of tomato soup to go with it on this chilly night.

You can check out the photographic play-by-play here. I need a rest, but then I am totally giving this one another run.

UPDATE: Try #3

Okay, I think I’m getting a handle on this process now. And even though it takes time, I like the work of the tasks involved. And it seems especially worth the investment when it comes out of the oven all golden and crackling.

Step One: Training the Starter

January 19, 2011 By In eat me, three points kitchen

I’m declaring 2011 my year of making bread. Sure, I’ve kneaded a yeasty loaf in my day, but now I’m getting serious. There will be flour, and I will weigh it accurately if it kills me.

To kick things off, I thought I’d start by cracking the cover on my copy of Tartine Bread–a book of certifiable food porn if ever there was one. Page follows page of photography that’s tastable (visually, at least) while the text relays the backstory on Chad Robertson’s quest to make great bread. Now that he has found success, the book is essentially his guidance on how to make some for yourself at home.

So I tore myself away from drooling over the images to actually start training my starter up (as outlined in the book’s initial pages) a little over a week ago. So far, so good! Now, I wait. To help pass the time, here’s a beautiful video about the bakery and the process.