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Bon Attempt*: Dishes to Try (and Try Again)

Pickled Turnips

So, things have been going in Wonderland Kitchen, they just haven’t been going “OMG, I totally have to tell you about this ah-maze-ing cookie recipe I just invented” great. That, or they’ve been going “this other person’s recipe is awesome and I posted about it last year” (so repeat as needed).

I’ve also been doing a good bit of cooking for real people beyond my husband (or unintentionally for my cat, when my back is turned, the little sneak!). It seemed rude to stick a lens in a guest’s face during an 8 a.m. breakfast, but in hindsight I’m feeling less shy, so beware future visitors!

Anyway, this being Sunday, I thought perhaps a little confession time was in order–air the laundry and wipe off the counters for the week ahead–and so in no particular order, some recipe takeaways for when the CSA first slams back into the rotation and houseguests make last minute visits. What have you been cooking as we slide into summer?

A Reminder that You Can Pickle For Tomorrow What You Can’t Consume Today

Turnips with Beet

Since the crisper drawer was already bursting with greens, I picked up a couple bunches of these white turnips and pickled them according to David Lebovitz’s recipe. Here I thought I was innovating, but hardly! I did however get distracted and ended up with an overly salted and garlic-y finished product. Will have to try this one again, because the beet slices resulted in an amazing brine. And I do have a soft spot for pink food.

A Reminder to Prep Guest Breakfasts Ahead of Time

Granola and Refrigerator Oats

I’ve posted about this Little Blue Hen granola before, which I like especially because it includes an abundance of nuts and seeds with nary a spec of dried fruit in sight (though I’ll cop to offering the guests a handful of DIY raisins at their discretion, because come on). I also like to make little cups of refrigerator oats before heading to bed (I substitute kefir for the milk and yogurt) and then just pass out the jars and spoons in the a.m. Haven’t had an unfinished portion yet.

A Reminder to be Brave with Your Summer Soups

Spring Asparagus and Broccoli Soup

I have been having a lot of luck lately with those “use up five things from the in-house stock” on the fly dinners, and this has been especially helpful now that there’s a lot more produce around. As we crawl towards the end of the week and another pick-up looms, sometimes the stuff just needs to be used up. That’s how I ended up with asparagus, broccoli, and spring onions in a soup pot, simmered with just enough veggie broth to cover, and then pureed with the last of the dill and the remaining 1/4 cup of cream in the bottle. A light spring soup, tasty both hot and cold.

A Reminder to Double the Doctor Kracker Knock-Offs

DIY Seeded Crispbread

Fair warning that these are very crisp crackers, but they are just like the ones that come eight to a box in the grocery. If your family is as addicted to them as mine, you have come to the right place for the knock-off recipe. But be sure to hide a few for your own eating: this was the lone piece of cracker left in the bag when I went back to take a picture and have a snack.

A Reminder to Not Burn Your Hand When Baking Life-Changing Bread

My New Roots: Life Changing Bread

This is the pre-baked look of My New Roots’ much-discussed Life-Changing Bread. The first loaf I made with really beautiful Bob’s Red Mill oats and specially purchased hazelnuts and thought it was a neat breakfast item but not necessarily life changing. The second time I was way more chill about it, just used the walnuts and the somewhat crappier instant oats I dug out of the pantry, and also tossed in all the seeds left behind in the bag of the above-mentioned seeded crackers. Aside from the accidental seering of the back of my hand on the oven while flipping the bread over, I’m enjoying the second batch even more. I keep it sliced and frozen and simply defrost a piece each morning in the toaster.

A Reminder That Not All Baking Need Exhaust Your Patience

Joy the Baker: Sweet Berry Lime Cake

Short version: I needed a cake for company, and I had about an hour to make it happen. Joy the Baker to the rescue!

A Reminder That Sometimes the “Failures” Are Still Pretty Tasty

Tomato Basil Popovers

I always have excellent results with this King Arthur popover recipe, so I used that as the base when–for some reason–I started dreaming of breakfast treats flavored with tomato. My first effort included 1 tablespoon tomato powder, 1 teaspoon onion powder, a handful of chopped basil, and about 1/4 cup Parmesan cheese. They were good, but not quite what I’m looking for just yet and I lost most of my usual pop (I’m guessing the weight of the cheese didn’t help). A work in progress.

A Reminder That Not All Failures are Failures If You Adjust the Frame

Cottage Cheese Fail

I got it into my head after the cream cheese making that DIY cottage cheese would be no. big. deal. I researched a few available recipes and thought things were going pretty well, but my curds didn’t survive the straining process. I’m guessing I didn’t cook my curds long enough. Proper looking curds or no, the cheese still tasted fantastic and I used it like a rich ricotta on toast and pizzas with much success. The curd skills will come another day. There were also fresh peas at the market, which meant it was time again for smoky tahini peas!

Peas and Cheese Crostini

*With apologies to Bon Appétempt, whose kitchen antics are funny and whose dishes look awesome. However, as I have never eaten at her house, it’s her blog name that I’m particularly enamored with–so much so that I felt only minor guilt in kinda stealing it for the title of this post! That acknowledged and confessed, onward into the kitchen…

DIY Black Tahini and Beet Hummus

Black Tahini Beet Hummus

There are few constants in my kitchen, but one of them might be the high probability that there is a semi-full can of tahini hiding out at the back of the fridge on any given evening. Its precise origin and month of purchase are murky. I’m sure I thought about inking the date on the lid when I first open it, but I didn’t.

Lurking tahini

For anyone nodding along with me here, I have a new philosophy: I will henceforth buy sesame seeds and make my own tahini as needed, a 1/2 cup at a time. True, DIY versions of the purée may not be quite as smooth as the commercial variety. However, I found that a cup of seeds and a couple tablespoons of oil given a two-minute run in my blender came way too close to argue over. And if you were thinking about arguing, let’s talk again after you’ve tried to stir the separated oil back into the that neglected-for-weeks tahini in your fridge.

To make things a little more exotic, when I spotted some black sesame seeds at the grocery recently, I wondered: Was black tahini a thing? Yes! And not only that, I found it to blend smooth with half the amount of oil needed to convert white sesame seeds, plus the flavor was less bitter. I got a sweeter, nuttier paste. Plus, the color is just amazing (or terrifying, I suppose, depending on your tastes).

With such black gold at my finger tips, I decided to add it to a hummus that could stand up to it, pigment-wise. The Hungarian in my soul cried out for beets, though even if you are not normally a fan of this superfood, you may yet enjoy this dip. The color alone is sure to turn a few heads at your next gathering.

I decided to use my blender to process the tahini rather than my food processor, as the bowl is narrower and there are more blades on the job. Unlike my food processor, it is much harder for the seeds to cling to the sides away from the cutting action. However, my hopes to make even smaller batches in the blender and process the hummus in the same container right on top were, sadly, a fail. A cup of sesame seeds made a beautiful 1/2 cup of black tahini in minutes; a 1/4 cup of seeds just made a splattered unprocessed mess. Your appliances may serve you better.

Black Tahini

The Method: DIY Black Tahini

1 cup black sesame seeds, toasted just until fragrant (since they are black, take care not to burn them)
2 tablespoons olive oil, plus addition as needed

Place toasted sesame seeds and olive oil in a blender. Purée one minute, scrape down sides, and purée an additional minute, adding more olive oil as needed. Continue blending until smooth and pourable. Transfer to a jar with a tight-fitting lid and store, covered, in the refrigerator.

NB: The process is identical if using white sesame seeds, though I found that I needed twice the amount of oil. Using untoasted white seeds, however, produced a bitter tahini that I could not recommend.

The Verdict

Like many condiment projects, the major benefits of DIY-ing your own relate to freshness and control over ingredients. Once again, there is also a cost/time consideration. Even without making a bulk purchase, I paid $3.99 for 8 ounces of black sesame seeds which (using the method above) results in about a cup of tahini. Commercial versions of the same volume retail for anywhere from $5.29 to $12.59. Personally, the chance to step back to just a jar of sesame seeds in the pantry that can be used both to whip up small batches of tahini and in other projects as well makes this the way to go.

Beet Hummus: Processing

DIY Black Tahini and Beet Hummus

Makes: about 2 1/2 cups

DIY Black Tahini and Beet Hummus

4 medium beets (about 8 ounces), roasted, peeled, and cubed
1 (15-ounce) can chickpeas, drained and rinsed
1 teaspoon cumin seed, toasted and ground
2 tablespoons black tahini (or substitute regular tahini)
3 tablespoons lemon juice
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
1 clove garlic
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, or to taste
4 tablespoons olive oil, plus additional as needed
parsley for garnish

Place all ingredients in a food processor and run until smooth, adding additional oil as needed to achieve desired consistency. Garnish with an additional drizzle of olive oil and chopped parsley.

https://wonderlandkitchen.com/2013/02/diy-black-tahini-and-beet-hummus/

4 medium beets (about 8 ounces), roasted, peeled, and cubed
1 (15-ounce) can chickpeas, drained and rinsed
1 teaspoon cumin seed, toasted and ground
2 tablespoons black tahini (or substitute regular tahini)
3 tablespoons lemon juice
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
1 clove garlic
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, or to taste
4 tablespoons olive oil, plus additional as needed
parsley for garnish

Place all ingredients in a food processor and run until smooth, adding additional oil as needed to achieve desired consistency. Garnish with an additional drizzle of olive oil and chopped parsley.

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This recipe and post were created for my “DIY vs. Buy” column on Serious Eats.

DIY Oyster Crackers In Your Soup

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When I was a kid, the retired couple next door took on the role of surrogate grandparents/babysitters. Their kitchen was where I learned to make a pie crust, their garden was where I saw my first swiss chard in the wild, and their family room was where I caught up on every Matlock and Murder She Wrote episode ever produced. In my memories, there were always great snacks on offer at their house, but even more than the just-baked elderberry pie and sugar cookies, I remember the evenings we spent with a big bag of oyster crackers and a tub of butter. Yes, buttered crackers were what most impressed my seven-year-old self, and I still think back to those cozy, murder-mystery evenings whenever I see a bag.

Whenever I actually taste the crackers in those bags these days, however, I wonder if it’s my palette or their production values that have shifted. I don’t remember them giving off the impression of…tissue paper quite so much, dissolving on the tongue like a communion wafer. So this version of the iconic cracker is just a little bit more solid, a little richer, a little butterier–it will stand up to but not overpower your soup.

Now, I know what I said about DIY projects and getting the perfect shape, but I think those sesame sticks taught me an important lesson. While there may be cooks out there who can produce a bag’s worth of perfectly shaped and smiling goldfish crackers, I now know that I am not one of them. So while I understand that oyster crackers are often hexagon-shaped, after considering how to produce so many small bites with some degree of efficiency, I decided that rectangles were cute enough. (Approximate) uniformity would be the key to my cracker geometry. Once they poofed up in the oven, I didn’t miss those stop signs of carbohydrate one bit.

DIY Oyster Crackers: The comparison

This is a no-stress side project that could easily be done while your soup is simmering. That said, it gets flour all over the counter and you have to cut dough into small pieces, possibly negating the laid-back, one-pot cooking that is often what makes soup so attractive (to me, at least). As far as economic comparison, I bought a 12-ounce bag for a dollar, so I’m not even going to try and talk cost savings. Ingredient-wise, this homemade version swaps in butter for the palm, canola, and soybean oils in my grocery’s house brand. Beyond that, however, rather than coat the surface of the crackers with an envelope of salad dressing mix, this is an excellent opportunity to make your own signature flavor with seasonings such as dried herbs or black pepper mixed right into the dough. Being a Baltimorean now, I added a teaspoon of Old Bay, and the spike of flavor and heat it brought to crackers seemed to be an especially appropriate pairing with the falling temperatures.

DIY Oyster Crackers
makes about 2 cups

5 ounces (1 cup) AP flour
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon (or to taste) Old Bay or seasoning of your choice (optional)
2 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cubed
1/3 cup cold water, additional as needed

Measure dry ingredients into a mixing bowl and whisk to combine. Next, using a pastry cutter, work butter into the dry ingredients. Finally, add the water and lightly knead the dough just until all ingredients are incorporated. Add additional water by the tablespoon, if needed.

Form dough into a ball, set it on a lightly floured rolling surface, and cover with the overturned mixing bowl. Allow to rest for 15 minutes. Heat oven to 375°F.

When rest is complete, roll dough out on a well floured surface until about 1/8-inch thick. Cut dough into squares or rectangles (or circles, if you’re really willing to put some time into it) that are about 1/2-inch wide. Transfer to a parchment-lined baking sheet and space the shapes out as much as possible.

Bake for about 15 minutes, until crackers are showing color around the bottom edges. Turn oven off and crack the door open about eight inches. Leave crackers inside to cool and continue to crisp, about 30 minutes.

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This recipe was created for my “DIY vs. Buy” column on Serious Eats.

Take the G Train: Masala Knishes

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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.

We’re Under Siege! (Popcorn Edition)

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I think it was when the seventh kernel flew past my face and ricocheted off the stove top that I began to wonder if anyone was supposed to really strip down these dried cobs and actually pop this corn. I mean, they sure were cute sitting in that barrel at the pumpkin patch, and all the kids were definitely excited. But perhaps all those moms beside me knew to dispose of this old-world treat as soon as they got home. Because seriously, this was one step worse than shelling old peas.

Eventually, it either got easier or I got better at it. I worked out a system where I would clear a row up the cob and then flick out all the kernels in the row to the left with the side of my thumb. Then I’d work my way around the cob and repeat. It worked, more or less, but I’m not sure I’ll be motivated to do it again unless this turns out to be the Best. Popcorn. Ever.

Pffff. Microwave popcorn. I don’t think so. It’s way more fun to drag out the stockpot before Friday night movies knowing that you’ll have to wash a stockpot splattered in congealed oil in the cold Saturday morning light. Am I right?

So, no one probably needs a “recipe” for stovetop popcorn, though it occurs to me that I’d need instructions for using a microwave to do it, so I don’t want to be a snot either. I netted about 2/3 cup of kernels, so I poured about 4 T of cooking oil and the corn in my 8 qt. stock pot and heated over medium. I keep the lid vented just a crack and shake the kennels around every so often to avoid burning. In “a watched pot never boils” fashion, it may seem to take a while until you hear that first pop, but you should watch it and eventually things will take off. Once the percussive fun subsides, remove from heat and toss the light and airy popped kernels with seasonings of your choice.

I used to be pretty faithful to a salt/sugar mix, but this being Maryland, I was inspired to try some Old Bay seasoning and salt this time. I didn’t feel like my seasonings were sticking well and I didn’t feel like melting butter, so when I spied that can of olive oil spray on the counter, I went to town like it was a can of Aqua-Net on prom night. Problem solved. It wasn’t the best popcorn ever, but it sure was an experience–with unpopped souvenir kernels now hidden in unlikely places all over the kitchen.

A Peck of Pickled Peppers

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Okay, not a peck, just a jar. Still, when Brian stripped down our one and only jalapeño plant and laid out all those bright green peppers on the kitchen counter, I was a little stumped. I had flashbacks to when my dad would proudly arrive in the kitchen carrying four or five baseball bat-sized zucchinis that had been hiding in our backyard garden. My mother would take one look at him and his harvest and order them all back outside. She wanted nothing to do with any of it. When Brian said he was looking forward to seeing what I was going to do with so many jalapeños, I was tempted to follow her example.

These peppers had been on the hot side of their variety (at least when compared with the half-rotting ones I tend to find in grocery stores), which was lovely when the harvest was coming in only a few at a time. This end-of-the-season bumper crop, however, was a little harder to wrap my mind around. We were just on our way out of town, so I pushed them all into a bag and hid them in the crisper drawer–a hot problem for another day.

Back home after a week on the road, the peppers demanded my attention. Preservation seemed the name of the game at this point, but frozen peppers never seem to work out for me (their texture is ruined by the freezing process, and I tend to forget to use them in situations where that might not matter). Having just finished the last of six jars of pickled green beans, however, this seemed a method our family was capable of putting to good use.

In addition, this week’s new-to-my-kitchen vegetable is the daikon. One of my favorite Waverly farmers was selling off bunches of them for a buck, so it seemed I had little to lose on the investment. Raw salads and slaws being low on my list as we cruise into the cooler fall temperatures, I decided pickling these was a good storage plan as well.

Pickled Jalapeño Peppers
from The Purple Foodie

330 g sliced jalapeños (I was a little shy on this weight once I’d sorted out a few bad specimens, so I just sliced and filled a sterilized pint jar and called it enough snacking heat for the household)
1 cup apple cider vinegar
1 cup water
1 T peppercorns
2 bay leaves
3 cloves of garlic, lightly crushed
2 T kosher salt
1 T sugar

Wash and slice the jalapeños–carefully. Wear gloves and mind what you touch. I have had pepper-burned hands and do not recommend it (though if you do find yourself injured, pushing your fingers into some yogurt seems to help). Pack the pile of peppers (sorry, couldn’t help myself) into a sterilized jar or jars, as best suits your needs.

The Purple Foodie passes on a pickling tip in her recipe that she learned from Michael Ruhlman’s blog for determining how much liquid you’ll need in advance: once you pack the vegetables into the jar, cover with water. Pour it back off into a measuring cup. Discard half the water and replace the missing volume with your chosen vinegar for a perfectly measured 50/50 mix.

Once you have determined the amount of liquid you will need, add that and the remaining ingredients to a pan and simmer for 5 minutes. Pour this mixture back over the peppers, screw on the lids, and refrigerate for a few days (or as long as you can wait). This batch should keep a couple of months.

Pickled Daikon
variation on the Momofuku Vinegar Pickle base recipe

There are many cooks on the internet who are preparing a carrot/daikon pickle for banh mi sandwiches. That wasn’t really what I was after, so I decided to start with a basic rice wine pickle recipe and add my own spices.

1 bunch daikon, washed, peeled, and cut into thin sticks to fit your jar (I used a pint, and these proportions worked well.)
1 cup boiling water
1/2 cup rice wine vinegar
3 T sugar
1 T kosher salt
1 tsp. vindaloo seasoning or spices of your choice

Pack the prepared daikon sticks into a sterilized pint jar. Combine the remaining ingredients and pour this mixture over the daikon, screw on the lid, and let sit in the refrigerator for a few days before using.