Gifts and Some Pasta

For my Birthday last month I got a great big food processor from my mom. The very first time I used it, I put it to work pulverizing pistachios, sugar, flour, and butter into a struesel for inside an apple strudel I made for my grandmother for Christmas Eve. In the process of figuring out how to work this new piece of heavy machinery, my brother and I both ended up with sliced fingers and hands from the slick sharp new blades. We were in a rush to get the strudel into the oven so I worked one-handed while my little brother bandaged my fingers (and then carefully cut away small layers of dough where some blood may or may not have dripped... but no one was the wiser!).

The second time I (carefully) pulled out my sparkly new food processor was yesterday--when I endeavoured to make my own pasta from scratch with another new toy I got for Christmas: a pasta maker. I went into this thinking it would not only be difficult, but also time consuming and messy. So you can imagine my surprise when, less than 30 minutes later, I was sitting at the table eating my freshly cooked fresh pasta in an ozzy cheese sauce (courtesy of Jamie Oliver). However, the huge pile of dishes and the flour that ended up all over my kitchen meant that I was at least right about one thing. But I'll blame myself and not the pasta for that one.


As for the pasta, it tasted fantastic, so much better than the dried kind you get in a box at Safeway. It actually had nice salty flavor that could almost stand on its own. It cooked so quickly and had a lovely texture that didn't resemble over or undercooked pasta, but the perfect al dente. I liked the taste of the pasta on its own so much that I might try and make it with only melted butter, some sugar, and cinamon for a dessert. The creamy cheese sauce was good, but next time I would go for something a little less cheesy and a little more creamy, as the parmesean was a bit on the pungent side and made the whole house smell like vomit. However, I didn't mind the taste of the guyere and the creme fraiche was an interesting alternative to actual cream and gave the sauce a nice little zing of flavor. I'll also add that this meal was a bit... heavy. I didn't have to eat much at all to feel stuffed. This could either be due to the cheesy-creamy ratio or the fact that I didn't run the pasta through the rollers enough times, so it was a bit on the thick side. Either way, I am more than willing to try making my own pasta again in the near future.







Jamie Oliver's Pasta with Oozy Cheese Sauce
adapted from Jamie at Home

1. Crack 4 eggs into a food processor with 2 cups of flour. Process. The dough should be a bit crumbly looking, if it's sticky, add a bit more flour.
2. Dump pasta dough onto a floured work surface and press into a ball. Knead a few times to get it together well (this should be pretty easy). Divide the dough into four pieces.
3. Take a piece of dough and run it through your pasta machine on its widest setting. Jamie says to run it through a couple times on each setting until it's about the "width of a CD". I would say a little thinner than that because otherwise your pasta is going to be very thick after it's cooked.
4. Liberally flour both sides of your sheet of dough then fold it together and cut it into strips. Seperate the strips and add more flour to coat. Repeat with the remaining dough.
5. For the cheese sauce, you want to place a bowl over a pot of boiling water (the pot should be big enough to cook all your fresh pasta in when your sauce is done) and mix together 1 cup of creme fraiche, and about a handful of parmesean and guyere (although you can use any "good melting cheese"). When it's all melted, add salt and pepper to taste.
6. Throw your pasta into the pot of boiling water and cook for about 2-3 minutes. Drain and mix with the sauce. Voila!

the one that bites back...

Have you ever put a lot of thought into the cranberry? Honestly, have you? That bizarre little bud of a fruit that only really comes out at family dinners doesn't get a whole lot of consideration when placed next to the traditional holiday fruits (whatever they might be...). You get a little dollop of cranberry sauce plopped right in between the turkey and the stuffing and that little bit of tart sweetness is usually just enough to add a nice bit of contrast to your otherwise savory-studded meal.

Cranberries are weird. For a little fruit that pretty much grows in swamp-like conditions, it is super dry when you cut it open. I mean, if you eat a cranberry uncooked just by itself, it will suck every drop of moisture right out of your body within seconds. And that's exactly what it tastes like too. You pucker your lips and squint your eyes when you bite into that berry or even when you take a sip of cranberry juice. It's potent stuff! Also, unless you happen to slice your own cranberries (and forgo the canned variety for family gatherings), you might be interested to know that the inside of the hollow berry is a startling white with little seeds shaking about in there.

How do I know all this? Well, after Thanksgiving had come and gone and the turkey carcass had been picked over by my fellow vultures until there was not much left that could be considered edible in polite company, I realized that I still had a batch of cinnamon spiked pie dough in the fridge and a whole bag of fresh cranberries that needed to be used up. So while the emaciated bird carcass sat stewing in a pot over the stove with some celery and carrots, I looked for a nice pie recipe that would use up my dough and my berries. Not surprisingly, I found a promising one in my Sur La Table The Art and Soul of Baking book (this book is more of a tome...). However, I haven't been having very good luck with the recipes in this book lately. In fact, Most of the ones I have made have turned out kind of... mediocre at best and inedible at worst. But I figured that the book deserved another chance, and opted to throw together a cranberry crumble tart mostly because it meant that I wouldn't have to leave the house to get any more ingredients.

I gotta say, consider the book redeemed. That tart was fantastic.

The filling was sweet, but had a definite bite and the orange zest that was mixed in with it gave it a nice smooth taste that evened everything out. There was a simple mild crumble topping that worked out to be lovely with the cranberry filling that had such an intense flavor. I could even go so far as to say that the texture of the tart was just right--crunchy on the top and the bottom but nice and soft inside. I even dug through the freezer and got out some ice cream to go with it, and for me, the added cream made the whole dish perfect (although I would say that ice cream can make anything perfect).

So this one dish redeemed the Art and Soul of Baking for me. I guess in that respect it DID certainly bite back.

thanksgiving pie politics...

This Thanksgiving I endeavored to make the pumpkin and apple pies that would follow the meal. This already was cause for a significant amount of consternation as it would mean that my grandmother wasn't making the dessert and it would be, by default, "just not THAT good". That was fine. I've dealt with this pressure before and I would have to put up with it again. I'm used to it.

To change things up a bit, I decided that it might be interesting to do a bit of a variation on the classic pies by topping the pumpkin pie with Italian meringue, and mixing in a few pears with the apples in the apple pie. Only a small part of me wanted to do this just to enrage my family of die-hard traditionalists. Maybe not that small...

I got the idea to top off the pumpkin filling with meringue from an old post by Tartelette and a desire to use my brand new kitchen torch for the very first time. I doubled the recipe for the pumpkin filling given by Tartelette, and used Jamie Oliver's recipe for pie dough, spiking it with a pinch of cinnamon to give it a little bit of extra flavour. That was all pretty standard. The dough rolled out nicely and the filling baked nicely after about 40 minutes in the oven (instead of the recommended 20). The interesting part came when I made the meringue. Now I have made French meringue for pavlovas and individual meringues, and I have made Swiss meringue for buttercreams, but I have never attempted (or seen the need for) Italian meringue. Bringing water and sugar to a boil and then up to 245 degrees (F) while beating the egg whites into peaks seemed a bit extreme. I mean, you need a candy thermometer to pull it off and meringue is supposed to be simple! Needless to say, I was a little bit aprehensive going into this.

But the desire to finally put to use my fancy new kitchen torch spurred me on.

And I was stunned at how easy it was.

I admit, it was a little bit annoying having to wait for the sugar syrup to get hot enough (it had to reach the "soft ball" stage), but once I poured it into the beaten egg whites, you could see the meringue taking shape almost instantly. The hot syrup cooked the eggs and it became a big, soft, fluffy, mass. Kind of like a soft marshmallow. And it tasted delicious. Absolutely decadent. I plopped the fluffy whiteness onto the cooked pumpkin pie, and then played with it until it looked just the way I wanted.

Then I got to fire up my torch and caramelize the edges. It smelled just like roasting marshmallows. Tasted like it too...
The reviews for this pie were mixed. I liked it a lot. It was traditional enough that it still had that same spicy pumpkin taste with a nice flaky crust, but the added soft meringue made whipping cream unnecessary and made the dish nice and light. Others, however, were not as keen on it as I was (my sister refused to eat the meringue portion of the pie in an effort to boycott change).
I thought the apple pie was pretty good too... I ate a huge piece of it for breakfast this morning.

a mistake i'll only ever make twice...

I enjoy eating seafood. In addition to this, Jamie Oliver has never failed me. Of my four year love affair with the cute Brit, all I can say is that I have tried many different recipes from many different books and the only ones that have consistently produced delicious results are the ones with a picture of him on the cover.

So when I talk about the sockeye incident of August 28, 2009 it was not an example of Jamie letting me down. Quite the opposite, it was a clearly a case of me failing Jamie.

The recipe itself is easy. Simple to the point of questioning its worth even. After all, salmon doesn't need much added flavor in order to make it fantastic. A couple of bulbs of fennel, two lemons, a handful of parsley, and some fresh tomatoes. Mix with olive oil and some salt and pepper, then stuff the salmon with the colourful produce. All the excess veg goes on top and underneath the fish so that you can eat it as a side with the meal. Really, the whole thing looks absolutely perfect before it goes into the oven. It's colourful and vibrant and looks as though it will be eaten within seconds of coming out of the oven.

So of course there has to be a "but".

All day long there had been a questionable smell lingering in the kitchen. You know the smell. Everybody knows the smell. It's potent and not one that is easily forgotten. Turned out to be coming off a dead rodent outside the kitchen window (pleasant, I know). So when there was a funny odor after I took out the fish I didn't really think anything of it other than I hate squirrels. I had also just bought the salmon the day before so there was no reasonable way the fish could have gone off in less than 24 hours. Right?

When I pulled the salmon out of the oven the smell was worse and I should have known right then to get out the plan B meal (Kraft Dinner). But I was in denial, and after all... the presentation of the fish was perfect! It certainly LOOKED edible...


After a few bites we all decided that no, it was definitely not edible. This fish belonged in the trash with all its fancy accoutrement. Maybe the coyotes would appreciate my effort.

The extra frustrating part about this story: I have done this before with seafood! A year ago I was asked to make a crab quiche and I didn't trust my nose when I opened the can of crab and found it smelling... repugnant. Again, the whole dish was chucked after it was tentatively tasted and deemed entirely unfit for human consumption. I'm lucky no one got food poisoning that time.

After all this I would say that while I may have let Jamie down, I think I finally learned my lesson and am able to say with my full and utmost confidence that from here on in I will ALWAYS trust my nose.

And always have a back up meal ready when preparing fish.