Strawberries & Rhubarb 

Spring brings Rhubarb

No, I have not fallen off the face of the earth.

Little did I know when I started this blog the type of time commitment needed for such an undertaking. I also underestimated the amount of time (and life) teaching sucks out of me during the end of the semester.

Other than juggling work and life, we have also been putting in serious time into the garden. The lettuce and spinach seedlings are popping up. The tomatoes are starting to bud. Hopefully, harvest of the garden will help me along the world of blogging as well.

Another sign of spring is my lone rhubarb plant. Last year the plant went to seed extremely early in the season, leaving me with close to rhubarb-less. I have since learned (from neighbors and in-laws) that you need to keep harvesting the stalks to slow down the seeding process. Oh… I can do that.

Rhubarb, which is technically a vegetable, is sometimes known as “pie plant.” Though few enjoy the stalks the raw (those leaves are poisionous), rhubarb, like cranberries, benefit from cooking with sugar. Here is the US, rhubarb is typically found in pies and jams. In England, rhubarb is often made into a ‘fool” – stewed rhubarb layered with whipped cream (see “Strawberry Fool in Love”). The French actually have rhubarb yogurt, one of my personal favorites. Here I stir in stewed rhubarb into plain yogurt to get the same effect. Add some granola, and there’s breakfast.

Since strawberries are also in season in the spring, strawberries and rhubarb have been paired together for ages. Instead of fussing with a pie, I made a very simple crumble. I did tweak the recipe a bit and added ½ teaspoon of cinnamon to the crumble topping. Warm with vanilla ice cream, it was a great way to kick off the growing season.

Strawberry Rhubarb Crumble

From The Gourmet Cookbook

For filling:
2 pounds strawberries, hulled and halved (6 cups)
1 ½ pounds rhubarb stalks, trimmed and cut into ½-inch slices
1 to 1-1/4 cups sugar (depending upon the sweetness of the strawberries)
3 tablespoon cornstarch
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1/8 teaspoon salt

For crumble
1 ¼ cups old-fashioned rolled oats
¾ cup all-purpose flour
¾ cup packed brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 ½ sticks butter, slightly softened

Preheat oven to 425º.

Gently stir together all filling ingredients in a large bowl. Spoon mixture into a 3-quart baking dish. (I used a 9x13 Pyrex dish)

Stir together the first four crumble ingredients. Blend in butter with your fingertips, until mixture forms into small clumps.

Spread crumble mixture on top of fruit. Bake until fruit mixture is bubbling and top is golden brown, 40-50 minutes. Cool slightly on rack, serve warm.

Thoughts on blogging

There are some blog philosophy issues that have been mulling about in my brain of late. Last month, during a nasty blog-entry dry spell, I was engrossed with the reaction from other sites on the Food and Wine article “In the Belly of the Blog.” Wells’ article seemed to have two main reactions, he is giving a nod to the well-written blogs out there (which of course, there are many) however most believe he is peering downing from his high magazine post to the basement food writers with repulsion, “Today, eating a cheese sandwich qualifies as a hot scoop for legions of bloggers.”

Ouch.

My first reaction was that is man was on the attack for fear of his job. Why should anyone subscribe to his magazine, when the same basic information could be found on the Internet for free – minus the slick Lexus and Rolex ads?

Then self-doubt surfaced. It would be great if I lived in Paris, whist taking cooking classes and writing a cook book (Chocolate & Zucchini). But I do not live in England, France, Vietnam, or Hawaii, or in the country. I’m not English with a French husband (Becks & Posh ) – I don’t suffer from any food intolerances to attract a niche audience (Gluten-Free Girl). With my schedule, daily posting are out of the question. To make matters worse, there are other blogs that look just like mine.

Sigh.

Then an article came out in the Washington Post, stating that the majority of people couldn’t cook their way out of a bag of ramen noodles. Recipes now have to be written for “culinary illiterates.” The term “cream” is now only thought of as a noun, not a verb. Evidently the population loves to watch “$40-a Day” “Iron Chef” and “Unwrapped” on Food Network – not the shows that actually teach you how to cook. (And if you think “Semi-Homemade Cooking” falls into this later category, you are oh-so wrong.)

With my post in mind, I now feel that this blog does have a sense of purpose – even if no one seems to be reading this but my Mom.

Irish Soda Bread 

Irish Soda Bread

Since both of my parents have red-hair, St. Patrick’s Day was a big deal in my house growing up. My dad would wear thick green suspenders over his Air Force blues. If I was going to Catholic School, my mom would allow me to break the uniform code and wear a totally green outfit. (The general tone in our house was that not wearing green on St. Patrick’s Day should be the eighth deadly sin.) Mom would pack my sack lunch with a sandwich, green Kool-Aid and a shamrock sugar cookie (Yes, I know it was far from an authentic “Irish” lunch, but hey, it was the 70’s.)

Dinner would be corned beef and cabbage, another American take on Irish cuisine. But the great thing was that Dad would pull out The Dubliner’s and Clancy Brothers’ LP’s. Most people who think of Irish music recall “Danny Boy”, the slow mournful ballad. Not us. We would sing “Tim Finnegan’s Wake” “The Moonshiners” “Wild Rover” “Reilly’s Daughter” and my personal favorite “Are you ready for a war?”

The odd turn of fate? When I went to Dublin a couple of years ago, I was very surprised to be singing along to the traditional music at the pubs. My St. Patrick’s Day “training” came in handy while I was actually there.

I really don’t listen to the Clancy Brothers much anymore, though I do have the Chieftains in my collection. My son, however, seems to be carrying on the Irish tradition with his love for Flogging Molly and Dropkick Murphys – though much more punk than anything we listened to, each generation modifying a tradition.

With that in mind, I’ve abandoned the corned beef and cabbage, since I would be the only one in our house to eat it and it’s something I just don’t miss. (One of my students this semester is from Ireland, and he told me he never heard of corned beef and cabbage until he got to the States – and he’s not fond of it at all.) However every year, I have to make Irish Soda Bread. This recipe came from the CYO (Catholic Youth Association) group in Massachusetts. The big fund-raiser of the year was their St. Patrick’s Day Dinner. We would start at 7 in the morning peeling 100 pounds of potatoes, to serve dinner for close to 200 people. It was a ton of work, but fun project to work on.

Irish Soda Bread is very much like one big scone – and must be served warm. If you wait to eat it when it is cold, it is quite hard. Make a pot of tea when the bread just comes out of the oven, and when it’s done brewing you can enjoy the bread with lots of butter and maybe even some jam.

Irish Soda Bread

Preheat oven to 375°. Cut 3 Tablespoons of butter into 2 ½ cups flour, 2 Tablespoon sugar, 1 teaspoon baking soda, 1 teaspoon baking powder, and ½ teaspoon of salt, until it resembles fine crumbs. Stir in 1/3 cup raisins (or currants) and ¾ cup of buttermilk to make a soft dough. Turn on to lightly floured surface; knead for 1-2 minutes until smooth. Shape into round loaf, and place on grease cookie sheet (or warmed baking stone). Cut an “X” into the top of the loaf with a floured knife. Bake at 375° for 35-45 minutes, until golden brown. Brush with melted butter, if desired. Serve warm.

Hot Milk Cake, with original "recipe" from my Great-Grandmother.
 

Hot Milk Cake

On a stained, crumpled paper was written the following:

Hot Milk Cake
4 eggs
2 cups sugar
2 tea. Baking powder
2 ½ cups flour
1 cup hot milk

This paper, with many others, was shoved in the back of my great-grandmother’s kitchen cabinet. This “recipe” was merely a list of ingredients. Like a secret code, I set out to decipher this family treasure. One of my aunts had warned me that Grandma Helen often left out an ingredient (or two) when she gave out her recipes. This did not make me feel any better about tackling this recipe – but why would she leave out something in a recipe she used herself?

This cake had an interesting texture. It was certainly not as tender as a boxed cake mix, but its sturdy texture worked well with the jam. The center did not get too soggy or go off, as often happens with very moist cakes. I recommend this cake with jam in the winter, but you could certainly use fresh fruit and cream in the summer. The cake can absorb some of the liquid from the fruit, without loosing too much of its structure.

I used whole milk with this recipe, since there is no butter included. My only additions were the salt and the vanilla. Next time I may increase the vanilla to a full teaspoon, but a ½ teaspoon worked will with the jam center.

2 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
2 ½ cups flour

4 eggs, room temperature
2 cups sugar
½ teaspoon vanilla
1 cup whole milk

Preheat oven to 350°

Using two 9-inch round cake pans, trace circles on to parchment paper, cut out and place in bottom of pan (be sure that the side with ink in facing the bottom). Grease and flour the sides of the pans. Set aside.

Sift dry ingredients together. Set aside.

In standing mixer, beat eggs for three minutes, until pale and fluffy. (They should increase in volume.) Meanwhile, place milk in small saucepan over medium-low heat. You want to scald the milk (heat until a few bubbles come up on the sides). Make sure the milk does not burn while you continue preparing the batter.

To the eggs, slowly add the sugar, beating all the while (total of five minutes). Lower the speed of the mixer. When the milk is warm enough, begin slowly adding a spoonful or two of flour, then some of the warm milk to the egg mixture. Alternate the two ingredients, ending with a small amount of flour.

Divide batter into the prepared pans. Bake for about 25 minutes, until tops are golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool on racks for ten minutes. Run a butter knife along the sides of the pans, and flip cake out on to racks. Peel back parchment, allow cakes to cool completely.

Place bottom cake layer on plate, spoon jam on top. Top with remaining cake and sprinkle with powdered sugar, serve with whipped cream.

Saturday Night Chicken Soup 

Saturday Night Chicken Soup

Like it or not, I’m following on the soup idea for today’s posting. My sinuses are stuffed, leading to the medical condition I like to call “Bowling-Ball Head.” (Yes, Mom, I went to the doctor and am on some meds.) This lack of post-nasal drip has required me to drink a lot of tea, and eat soup. The freezing weather is not helping matters at all. Thankfully, my son had a birthday party to attend to, so I could make some homemade chicken soup. (More on that later.)

There really isn’t a recipe for this. It is more of an assemblage of ingredients on hand, in hopes that that it will make me feel better. This is how the process went:

Defrost lonely single chicken breast in microwave. Chop a small onion.

Cube chicken, season with salt and pepper. In large pot, add some olive oil. Cook chicken.

While chicken is cooking, peel and chop 3 small carrots (giving ends of carrot to dog who runs from the other end of the house when he hears me peeling a carrot or apple.)

Look for any celery in crisper, none to be found. Pick though packages of herbs which were required for other recipes. (Hubby bought me Rachel Ray’s new cookbook for Christmas – the girl is into fresh herbs, big time!) Scavenge some thyme, rosemary and flat leaf parsley.

Removed chicken from pan. Add a little more oil, stir in onions and carrots. Pull out 2 pints of frozen chicken stock, nuke to defrost.

Chop thyme and rosemary, place in metal tea-ball (easier than cheesecloth, or picking out the herbs). Onions are beginning to smell good. Chop parsley, put aside.

Answer phone call. (“Uh-huh…. Sure…. ok…..”) Add chicken stock and chicken to pan. Add more salt and pepper. Add bay leaf and tea-ball with herbs. Doesn’t look like enough liquid, add another cup of water. Hang up phone.

Look for stray bags of veggies in freezer, find peas. Look for stray bags of pasta, only find orzo (little itty-bitty pasta). Shrug and go with the orzo, even though it will be the smallest thing in the soup. Remind self not to place entire bag of orzo into pot, or the whole thing will be a sticky mess.

Soup looking good, boiling away. Add orzo, peas and parsley. Boil for 6 more minutes – more or less. Take picture with digital camera, which now must live in the kitchen to record great culinary events, such as this. Pick out bay leaf and tea-ball.

Eat with hubby while watching a Food Network special “Mario Full Boil.” Add more salt. Watch Mario Batali have a hard time keeping within his ten-million dollar budget for his “world class” restaurant in Manhattan, and tasting a new dish on his menu featuring duck balls. (And no, those are not like meatball.) Wonder how many stinkin’ times they are going to say “world class” or “4-star.”

Finish off soup with hubby. Start to watch “Giada's Italian Holiday” Get extremely jealous of skinny woman eating her way through Italy. Laugh at her inadequate description of Nutella gelato. “Vanilla ice cream with mounds of chocolate fudge and a hint of hazelnut.” Oh please, that comes no where close to describing such an orgasmic experience. Hubby notices that she never pays for anything, and is therefore a free-loader. Feel slightly better.

French Onion Soup 

French Onion Soup

Denver finally has gotten some snow. After weeks of dry, mild weather, winter has once again made its presence known. One of my favorite things to eat on a cold night is French Onion Soup. It is the epitome of peasant cuisine, no fancy ingredients, just a nice slow cook time.


Soupe à l’Oignon (French Onion Soup) based on the recipe from “Paris: Authentic Recipes Celebrating the Food of the World” by Marlena Spieler
Serves 4

1 Tablespoon butter
2 Tablespoons oil
Three cups of very thinly sliced onions (About 2 large)
Pinch of Sugar
Salt and fresh ground pepper to taste
¾ - 1 cup red wine
2 14-oz cans beef broth
1 ½ cups water
1 bay leaf
4 slices thick bread (dried out French bread is ideal)
4 slices of Swiss or gruyere cheese
Fresh chopped parsley (optional)

Melt the butter in a large pot with the oil, add the onions stirring to coat with the butter mixture. Add sugar, salt and pepper and cook gently for 20-30 minutes, until the onions are golden and very soft.

Add the wine, and reduce the liquid by half, cooking over medium high heat for about 10 minutes. Add the stock, water and bay leaf; simmer for 30-40 minutes.

Preheat over to 400 (or turn grill on low). If using soft and/or fresh bread, lightly toast in oven. (If bread is already dried out, you may skip this step.) In oven-proof bowls, pour soup in bowl, top with bread, then cheese. Place in over for 4-6 minutes, until cheese bubbles and browns. (It may be easier to place the bowls on a cookie sheet, and then place the sheet in the oven.) Garnish with parsley and serve.

Strawberry "Fool in Love" 

Strawberry "Fool in Love"

Day late and a dollar short.
I was planning to include this with this week’s “Sugar High Friday” event on Valentine’s Day recipes. However, some bad allergic reaction required me to visit Benadryl la-la land for most of yesterday. (Thank God I don’t teach on Fridays.) So sadly, I missed the deadline, but I thought I would share my recipe anyway.

Strawberry “Fool in Love”

I am in a mixed marriage – I love chocolate, but my husband does not. He’ll eat some milk chocolate, brownies, and the occasionally cookie, but that’s about it. If I were to make a chocolate dessert, he might taste some, but it certainly would be consumed by my son and yours truly. Not exactly the effect one’s aims for on Valentine’s Day.

What my husband loves are strawberries. When picking fresh berries, we would joke that he should be weighted before and then after, to see how much we would owe the farmer for his “sampling.” He simply can not resist plump, crimson berries, warmed in the sun.

The difficult thing with strawberries is getting good ones. Sure, you could plunk down a five bucks for a pint of berries in the middle of February – but what would you get? A bunch of white, watery berries – with barely a hint of flavor. Blah. This leaves poor hubby berry-less on both Valentine’s Day and his birthday (which was in December).

Frozen berries can be used in a pinch, but they need some help. In this recipe, it’s cassis that comes to the rescue. Crème de Cassis, a blackcurrant liquor from Dijon, France, pairs lovingly with the strawberries, deepening their flavor.

A “fool” is a dessert found in Britain typically during the summer. Quite simply, whipped cream and fruit are folded together and chilled until set. Nearly any fruit will work. Some may require cooking with some sugar, such as gooseberries or peaches. Softer fruits, (raspberries and strawberries) are simply mashed and mixed with a little sugar. It is really best to taste the fruit first, to see how much sugar is needed – if any.

This dessert looks great in any type of glass that shows off the attractive layers. A crisp cookie nicely contrasts with the whipped cream, and is a fun scoop to eat the fool with.

So move over chocolates, this is how I make food-love for my hubby.

Strawberry “Fool in Love”
1 16-oz bag of frozen strawberries, thawed
3-5 Tablespoons sugar (depending upon the sweetness of the strawberries)
2 Tablespoons Crème de Cassis
1 pint heavy whipping cream

Chocolate curls, wafer cookies, for garnish (optional)

Taste the berries. Depending upon the berries, add 1 to 3 tablespoons of sugar and the cassis. Smash the berries with a potato masher, or the back of a fork. Set aside. (This could be completed while the berries are still slightly frozen, and the allowing the flavor to blend until completely defrosted.)

With a mixer, beat the cream. After one minute, sprinkle with 2 tablespoons of sugar. Continue beating until stiff peaks form.

Gently fold half of the strawberry mixture into the whipped cream. In serving glasses, layer the strawberries with the cream, starting with a layer of strawberries, and ending with a layer of whipped cream. Chill in the refrigerator for about an hour, until set.

To serve, garnish with chocolate curls and/or cookies.