FOOD ON THE FOOD

You’re All Invited

I’m looking ahead to 2010 with great anticipation, and it’s going to be very hard to keep me sober on the eve of it. To usher out this crap-tastic year and escort in something better (much better), I’m throwing a virtual New Year’s Eve party and you’re all invited. You don’t even have to cancel your existing plans as it all takes place right here in the all-you-can-eat banquet hall of your mind.

The theme is Fuck 2009! It would be potluck, of course, because I’m not actually very good at throwing parties, real or virtual, and everybody could bring a dish that symbolized their particular hard knocks of the year. Partaking in the feast would be like participating in a delicious, communal exorcism. I wouldn’t even force you to use local ingredients, though there might be something in it for you if you do. You never know.

We’d set up tents on one side of the hall and let the kids go all Lord of the Flies over there while we civilized adults engage in similarly vicious but slightly more veiled mind games having to do with who gets the last slice of chocolate chestnut torte and whether or not the person tasked with mixing drinks is making them strong enough. Have no fear, there will definitely be a fry-o-later and a grill on hand. This is my party after all. Oh, and we’ll need a good blues band. Maybe during their break, people could get up and tell funny stories about this calamitous year. Not me, though. Nothing makes me want to throw up more than public speaking, and I think I’ve already paid my dues in that respect.

Then we’d all boisterously count down the seconds until midnight (maybe sans Dick Clark, though—we’re trying not to be depressed, remember?), and then I’d kick everybody out five seconds later because I need my beauty rest. Sound like the awesomest time ever? I thought so.

RSVP ASAP with the dish you’re bringing. Some ideas:

“My Heat Got Shut Off” Vichyssoise
Laid-Off Deviled Eggs
Repo Potato Skins (potato skins stripped of their cheese, bacon, sour cream, chives, etc. by someone who shall remain nameless)
Kidney Stone Soup
Store-Brand Spaghetti with Blighted Tomato Sauce
Roasted Loin of Infected Swine with Sour Grape Conserve
Chapter 11-Bean Chili
90-Days-Late Sauerkraut (I have dibs on this one)
Foreclosure Flan
“At Least I Have My Health” Deep-Fried Snickers Bars

C’mon, clever readers. You can do better than this. Watcha got?

Scenes from Christmas

Christmas went without a hitch this year. No disasters to speak of, I’m sorry to report. St. Nick managed to cram himself down our tiny chimney right on schedule to deliver the goods to the children. He took some liberties with the fudge, I noticed, making short work of what we left for him on the mantle and then dipping into my secret stash in the refrigerator (he really is always watching, isn’t he?). You can imagine my reaction when I found the empty pans strewn about in the snow, reindeer footprints all around. I’m willing to let it slide, however, in the spirit of Christmas.

Husband and I kept our gifts to each other to a minimum. We didn’t want to end up in a Gift of the Magi-type situation wherein I relinquish my most precious asset, my gorgeous, flowing hair, only to find out that the measly ¾-inch growth I've accumulated will barely get you enough loose change to buy one and a half fishing lures to replace the dozens that have gotten caught in various trees over the years, not by Husband. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to me, he would have pawned off his fishing pole to buy me a truckload of barrettes or whatever you call those things that keep your hair out of your eyes. To which I would respond, in language befitting an O. Henry character, “WTF? You know I’m physically incapable of accessorizing.”

My in-laws came over Christmas morning bearing Hole-in-One doughnuts and other goodies. I didn’t knock myself out too much with the meal this year. Just a laid-back brunch with bacon from Chestnut Farms, fresh fruit, and a goat cheese-artichoke strata. Oh, and grapefruit mimosas, but that’s for another post. No spiral hams taking forever to cook or ducks to be trussed or husbands to make vomit. Nope, just a casserole made the night before and shoved into the oven amidst a flurry of wrapping paper (made only slightly more challenging by hastily deployed Lego minefields everywhere). Later on, once food coma set in and everyone cleared out, I took a three-and-a-half-hour nap. That was my Christmas present to myself. I thought baby Jesus would approve.

And that, my friends, was Christmas. How about you?

Goat Cheese-Artichoke Strata
This one’s for my mother-in-law. It’s a good use of leftover cheese from the cheese plate you might have served on Christmas Eve.

1 1-lb. loaf sourdough bread, crusts removed if thick
3 garlic cloves, unpeeled
18 oz. marinated artichoke hearts, drained, 3 Tbsp. of marinade reserved
2 tsp. minced fresh thyme
¾ lb. goat cheese, crumbled
¾ lb. freshly grated Parmesan cheese
8 large eggs
2½ cups half-and-half or milk
1 tsp. salt
¾ tsp. black pepper
3 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil

Preheat oven to 400°F. Butter a deep 9- to 10-inch baking dish.

Cut bread into 1-inch cubes. Transfer cubes to a baking sheet, along with cloves of garlic, and toast for about 25 minutes, stirring once or twice, until bread is golden brown and lightly crisp. (Or you could use stale bread and toast the garlic separately.) Peel the garlic, smash the cloves, and add to a medium bowl. Slice the artichoke hearts about ½-inch thick and add to the bowl. Mix in the thyme.

In the baking dish, arrange half of the bread, artichoke mixture, and cheeses, then finish with another layer of each. Whisk the eggs with the half-and-half, salt, pepper, and reserved artichoke marinade. Pour custard over the strata. Cover and refrigerate at least 2 hours or overnight. In my case, I did this Christmas Eve so I could just pop it in the oven Christmas morning.

Remove the strata from the fridge a half hour before you plan to bake it. Preheat oven to 350°F. Drizzle olive oil over strata and bake for 50-55 minutes, until golden brown, puffed, and lightly set in the center. Serve hot.

Source: Adapted from A Real American Breakfast by the Jamisons.

Honey Caramels for Gifting

New to my holiday candy-making repertoire this year are honey caramels, made with local honey, of course. I used Golden Meadow from Reseska Apiaries, which, incidentally, is offering a honey and beeswax candle CSA in the spring. But there are also likely to be several small batch producers in your area, so ask around.

These caramels are sticky, creamy, and buttery, just the way I like them. Extra salt makes them super-addictive. The honey gives them a more complex flavor than your typical caramels, not to mention a taste of your local terroir (i.e., purple loosestrife, black locust, basswood, and buckthorn in my area). What better way to celebrate the bees’, and possibly your own, hard work this year?

Happy holidays, Everyone. See you next week.

Honey Caramels
You will need a candy thermometer for this. There’s nothing to be afraid of. It goes in the pot.

1½ cup sugar
½ cup honey
1 cup heavy cream
4 Tbsp. butter, cut into 4 pieces
1 scant tsp. kosher or sea salt

Line a 9x12-inch baking pan with parchment paper.

Add sugar and honey to a large, non-reactive pot. On medium heat, let the sugar and honey melt and come to a boil. Meanwhile, heat the cream in a small pot until gently simmering (don’t let it boil over).

Cook the sugar mixture, stirring occasionally, until caramelized to a medium to dark amber color, but don’t let it burn. If you’re having trouble judging the color through all the foam, use the sniff test (but don’t get too close—caramel will give you a nasty burn). The longer caramel cooks at this stage, the more bitter the flavor becomes. You want some bitterness to counter the sweetness, but not too much. Give a smell and see what you think.

When you get it where you want it, whisk in the butter 1 Tbsp. at a time until well mixed. Then add the heated cream and salt, and whisk until smooth. Clip on your candy thermometer at this point and cook until it reaches 242°F (for a sticky caramel) up to 250°F (for a firmer one).

Quickly pour into the parchment-lined pan and let cool at room temperature. Chilling soft caramel in the refrigerator makes it easier to handle. Cut into small pieces and wrap them up in parchment or wax paper, twisting the ends. You’ll have to experiment with shapes and sizes of the caramels and papers to get a combination you like. Make sure you have some time on your hands. Wrapping them can take a while. Store in refrigerator until ready to gift.

Source: Adapted from Chez Pim.

Addendum: MidLifeMama tried this recipe over the weekend and had some trouble with the caramels setting up with my original temperature recommendation of 236°F, so I've revised the temperature range to 242°F-250°F. Keep in mind that there can be vast differences in outcomes when making caramel even when altitude isn’t a factor. The time it takes for the sugar to melt and then come to a boil, as well as how much you stir it and the humidity in the air, may all play a role. Furthermore, if you live at a high altitude, subtract 2°F for every 1,000 feet above sea level. I’d say aim for the middle to top of the temperature range (before you do your altitude math) to be on the safe side. If the batch doesn’t set up, you’ll still have some awesome caramel sauce to put in little jars for gifts. Anyone else have anything to add from experience?

Local Sources:
Honey: Golden Meadow, Reseska Apiaries, Holliston, MA
Cream: High Lawn Farm, Lee, MA
Butter: Cabot, Cabot, VT

Blizzard Boy Strikes Again

The First Grader turns 7 this week, but we had his party over the weekend. Naturally, a big snowstorm came through that day. Husband was busy finishing up the birthday cake, so I went outside to shovel out some parking spaces. I’m glad I can just copy and paste this same blog entry year after year after year.

Luckily, our friends have caught on and started making secret reservations at their local ski lodge for whatever day the party invitation says. Then they call us up that morning to say they’re totally snowed in, won’t be leaving anytime soon, that’s for sure, barely hanging up before the ski lift deposits them at the top of the powdery slopes.

It may not snow all year, but it always snows on the day we celebrate the birth of our eldest son. He even made the front page of the Boston Herald on Christmas Day 2002 for being born while a sizable nor’easter was bearing down upon us.

(He's the one in the middle. Don't be fooled: he's not sleeping, he's concentrating intently on mobilizing giant weather systems.)

I just assumed kids were born during snowstorms all the time. I didn’t realize this was a sneak preview of his unique superpower. Over the years, Blizzard Boy would prove to have uncanny control over the weather, able to whip the winter winds into a frenzy, dump massive amounts of precipitation onto the surrounding areas, and, perhaps more importantly, enjoy mixing crushed-up candy bars into softened vanilla ice cream anytime of year, even when Dairy Queen isn’t open. (Fear not, Public at Large, he only uses his powers for good, not evil.)

We always manage to have a respectable turnout despite the weather. The parking spaces I clear on the street, while never big enough for actual cars once the plows are through with them, are usually big enough for sled-only parking for the locals. But you know the only reason I bring up these parties is an excuse to show you Husband’s latest cake. This year’s theme was Bakugan. You know, those little plastic balls that get rolled onto magnetic cards that then trigger all these little spring-loaded arms, legs, and horns to explode out of them.

This is Spin Dragonoid all folded up. But Husband designed it so that when you blow out the candles, color-coordinated marzipan appendages shoot out of the cake in three dimensions like a pop-up book. Unfortunately, my camera ran out of charge right at that moment, so you’ll have to take my word for it.

Take that, Neighborhood Dads!

Last Raffle Winner

And the winner of The Devil’s Food Dictionary is…Alexis!

Wow, I couldn’t have rigged that any better if I tried. Alexis is the reigning champion of codeSparrow so far, and I was worried that I’d have to come up with some kind of prizes for that site, too. And I’m running out. We’re down to just my sauerkraut at this point and, given how tasty it came out this time (finally), I’m hard-pressed to share. Plus, is it gross to eat somebody else’s sauerkraut? I hope not since we had our neighbors over last weekend for a sauerkraut bake with pork chops and brats and, now that I think about it, I haven’t heard from them since. Hello?

Anyway, thanks to everyone for participating. I wish I had something for each of you. And thanks to Husband for policing the whole raffling process. He’ll make an honest woman out of me, yet. Maybe.

Suddenly UnScrooge-Like, Part 3

Up for grabs in our next and final raffle is a brand new (dare I say autographed?) copy of one of the best food books out there, if truth and factual accuracy mean nothing to you. I’ve written about The Devil’s Food Dictionary: A Pioneering Culinary Reference Work Consisting Entirely of Lies before, and I likely will again. I will continue to write about this book until it takes its rightful place on shelves alongside (maybe even in front of) Ruhlman and Bourdain and Fisher. An excerpt:

fig Known as "Nature's racy metaphor," the fig is a luscious tree fruit that, at its ripest and most succulent, has a disreputable air of wantonness and sensuality. Figs can be dried into a tasty, durable snack food or incorporated, either dried or fresh, into works of fiction. Adam and Eve are said to have employed fig leaves to "cover their shame" after their expulsion from Eden. Sometime later, their son Cain murdered his brother Abel after the latter publicly joked that a whole leaf was not necessary to cover Cain's shame, but merely a single fig.

See? It’s good, wholesome fun for the whole family!

You may remember author Barry Foy as the guest poster extraordinaire who introduced us to his canned bean CSA over the summer. I came along to his Toot Hollow Farm CSA pickup last fall down a long, long, very long asphalt road in the middle of nowhere, pepper spray hidden in my pocket and firmly in my grasp the whole time, and, let me tell you, it was a delight! Really, you smell it before you see it.

Anyhoo, he just did a book signing thing out in Seattle as well as a radio interview that was pretty funny. If you’d like a chance to win this book, I’ll meet you down there in the comment section.

Cookie Cutter Winner

And the winner of the train cookie cutter raffle is...Susanna!

Happy cookie-making! I’ll be in touch.

To ease the blow for the rest of you, here are some of my favorite cookies and cookie-like confections for the holidays that I’ve posted over the years. None require cookie-cutters.

Chocolate chip cream cheese cookies

Pignoli cookies

Blondies

Seven-layer cookies

Penuche

Raisin cheesecake cookies

Anginettes

Bambury tarts

There’s one more giveaway left, and then it’s back to our regularly scheduled Scrooge-like behavior.

Suddenly UnScrooge-Like, Part 2

The last raffle went well. Only 57 people hate me now.

Next up is a set of train-themed cookie cutters for your holiday baking pleasure. They’re courtesy of Ann Clark, a Vermont company that specializes in handcrafted cookie cutters in all different shapes and sizes. You can check out the rest of the inventory here (I like the cardinal and acorn ones, too). Do you know where your cookie cutters came from? Hopefully, not China.

So, if you have kids, are a kid, know kids you have to buy for, like cookies, eat cookies, eat cookies on trains, or anywhere else for that matter, leave a comment on this post. I will then write the names on little slips of paper, roll out some cookie dough, bake the cookies, insert the papers fortune-cookie-style, hop aboard a train, start eating cookies, and when the train conductor comes by and asks me for my ticket, which I won’t have, I’ll offer him a cookie instead. And the name inside that cookie will be the winner. Okay?

Get going.

Cookbook Winner

And the winner of the 5 Spices, 50 Dishes raffle is…

Amanda!

Congratulations! I hope you love it as much as I do. I’ll be in touch by e-mail. Don’t put your address in the comment section unless you want lots of hate mail.

Everyone else, stay tuned for more free stuff.

Suddenly UnScrooge-Like, Part 1

You’re such awesome readers. Not just because you visited codeSparrow like I asked, and some of you even played, but also need I remind you of the kind of content you’ve been subjected to over the years on this here blog and yet you still come back. Why? No one knows. So, I’m getting into the holiday spirit by raffling off some free stuff. See? I love you guys, whoever you are.

First up is a brand new copy of the Indian cookbook, 5 Spices, 50 Dishes by Ruta Kahate. It’s the cookbook I’ve used the most this year. I haven’t made everything in it, yet, but pretty close. The stir-fried cabbage is to-die-for, not to mention the railway potatoes, spice-rubbed lamb chops, chickpea curry with dill, sweet potatoes with ginger and lemon, beets with mustard seed, lentil rice pilaf, creamed farmer greens, red onion raita…I could go on.

As the title suggests, you only need five spices to make all the dishes, most of which you probably already have (cumin, coriander, cayenne, turmeric, mustard seed). That makes it a good gateway into the world of Indian home-cooking without having to commit to any other expensive spice relationships. I just reduce the amount of cayenne by half for my wussy, post-chemo taste buds. The other great thing about this cookbook is how many vegetable dishes there are, so if you’re in a CSA and looking for ideas, you can pretty much always find something. Oh yeah, and the recipes are relatively uncomplicated.

I thought you might enjoy it, so I contacted Chronicle Books and they generously offered to donate a book to one lucky reader. Since my copy is all splattered and singed with a broken binding from being flung all over the kitchen in a frenzied manner, I’m half-tempted to switch them out and give you the crappy one. But that would be Scrooge-like of me. I’m going for the opposite of Scrooge-like. Therefore, you will receive a pristine book with which to work your own singed, splattered magic.

To be entered in the raffle, simply comment on this post about anything, anything at all, whatever’s on your mind, before my next post goes up, which will probably be on Thursday. Then I’ll put all the names into a mixing bowl with those five spices and see which one tastes the best. Just kidding. I’ll have Husband pick the winner so you can get mad at him, not me, if you lose. I have a few other things to give away in the next few weeks, so don’t worry if you miss out this time.

Ready, set, go!

My Latest Get-Rich-Quick Scheme

Can you guess what it is?

Another blog! Not just another blog, but a blog with “advertising potential.” Possibly. You know, once it has “readers.”

Anyway, it’s not about food or cancer. I’m branching out. It’s called codeSparrow and how it works is I, disguised as a clever and discerning bird, pick out my favorite tweets (i.e., quips from Twitter) and encode them into a cryptogram. Then you, or whoever, with your masterful grasp of the English language, solve the code and hopefully giggle instead of unfollowing me.

Why, might you ask, would anyone want to struggle to decode something that they could read on Twitter in its original form in under 1 second? To answer your question, I pose two questions of my own: 1) Is everything in life supposed to be easy? and 2) Do you know how many tweets you have to read to get to the entertaining ones? A lot. A real lot.

I love cryptograms and I know other people do, too, not just the 80-year-olds I hang out with. I’m hoping that amateur cryptography is like knitting in that you don’t know how many other knitters are out there until somebody starts a blog and then suddenly there are millions of knitters everywhere, not just your mom, but also your neighbor, as well as half the people who shop at Russo’s, even the sports bloggers have a knitting page, and, come to find out, even I, the world’s least crafty person, still remember how to do hairpin lace 20 years after my mom showed me how and could definitely produce some sort of drafty scarf if pressed by terrorists. Who also have knitting blogs.

So, I hope I can coax you guys away from your knitting to at least check it out, maybe compliment me on my bird drawing, which took about 112 tries. And, no, I don’t plan on putting ads on Food on the Food. I mean, unless things get really desperate around here. Like if you see me on the sketchy side of Moody St. wearing sparkly eye shadow and an unflatteringly low-cut top. Then you might see some low-budget advertising. Featuring me in sparkly eye shadow and an unflatteringly low-cut top.

Perfect Pumpkin Pie

We had three Thanksgiving dinners this year. One with Nonni on the day, one with my Mom the day after, and then I cooked one for us at home on Sunday. I’ve never cooked a whole Thanksgiving dinner in my life because we’re always away. It occurred to me that this is one of the things I want to do before I die, and that maybe I should start working on that list sooner rather than later.

So, I roasted a giant turkey leg that I had procured the week before from Diemand Farm in Wendell, MA with Annabelle of Calamity Shazaam in the Kitchen and her lovely family. Alongside the turkey leg were roasted carrots from Waltham Fields and potatoes from Picadilly Farm. Then I made oyster and chestnut dressing with Wellfleet oysters (courtesy of Grandpa P), as well as the stale, half-eaten baguettes I’ve been collecting from Russo’s. Finally, I made roasted Eastham turnip with local shallots and apples. Husband followed everything up with a homemade pumpkin pie.

One of the great things about this dinner was that the kids actually ate it. Not only ate it, but liked it. I was definitely not expecting that. The dressing alone was “food on the food” at its worst: many of the ingredients were green (leeks, celery, thyme, sage, parsley), several were gross-looking (chestnuts, oysters), and they were all mixed up with stale bread doused in the drippings of a dead bird. I did not explain it to them in this way, however. Maybe that’s the secret.

After they had eaten every bit off their plate, and my dad had eaten every bit off his plate (yes, including the turnips), they had pumpkin pie and ate every smear of filling right out of the crust. Since when is pumpkin pie popular with kids? Now they suddenly adore it, which means Husband will be even more inclined to sneak downstairs in the middle of the night for secret pie.

Husband’s recipe is as simple as, well…pie. It’s the simplest pie you’ll ever make, put it that way. He makes it with canned pumpkin and a Pillsbury crust, so it’s super-quick to put together. If you don’t already have a standard pumpkin pie in rotation, I’d suggest starting with this one and building off it.

Now, all we have to do is marry his pumpkin pie technique with my homemade lard crust, possibly also real CSA pumpkin or squash, and then there will be world peace.

Someday.

Husband’s Pumpkin Pie

His secret is to mix fresh, grated nutmeg along with the powdered stuff, half and half.

3 eggs
½ cup sugar
½ cup brown sugar, lumps sifted down
1 can pumpkin pie filling (or 1½ cups cooked and puréed fresh pumpkin)
1 Tbsp. flour
½ tsp. nutmeg
½ tsp. allspice
½ tsp. salt
1¼ cups low-fat milk, heated (not boiled)

Preheat oven to 450°F. Let pre-made dough come to room temperature for 15 minutes to unstiffen. Grease the pie plate, line with dough, and crimp.

In a large bowl, whisk the eggs with the sugars. Mix in the pumpkin, flour, spices, and salt. Slowly add the heated milk, whisking all the while, over the course of a minute or so. If you like your pies creamier, you can use whole milk instead or go up an extra ¼ cup on the low-fat milk. However, Husband likes his dark and firm. His words. Hmmmmm…

Bake pie for 10 minutes at 450°F, then lower heat to 350°F and bake 55-60 minutes longer. Let cool, then refrigerate until chilled. Serve with whipped cream or, as Husband prefers it, plain.

Thursday is "Help Grow A Farm" Day

Okay, I just made that up. But do you care about the future of local farming in the Boston area? If so, two communities could use your support: Lexington and Waltham.

Ninety-year-old Busa Farm in Lexington is in the process of being sold to the Town. The land use is limited to recreation, open space, historic preservation, or affordable housing due to the type of funds involved in the sale. While the idea of soccer fields has been formally proposed, a group of Lexington residents is advocating that the Town keep the land devoted to agriculture as a community farm, where it would provide local food as well as opportunities for recreation, employment, and education.

This Thursday, December 3 at 7:30 p.m. at the Church of Our Redeemer, the Lexington Community Farm Coalition is holding a panel entitled “A Year in the Life of a Community Farm,” where various local growers are slated to speak about the importance of sustainable agriculture in our communities. Come listen, maybe even chat about your experiences with (or developing interest in) community-supported farms. Once good land is gone, it’s really hard to get it back. Event is open to all. (Church of Our Redeemer, 6 Meriam St., Lexington)

Also on Thursday, December 3 at 7 p.m., representatives of Waltham Fields will be at Waltham City Hall to advocate for a fair reuse plan for the former Fernald School property. The closing of the Fernald School, right around the corner from Waltham Fields, represents one of those unusual opportunities to acquire land for positive community uses like farming. More voices are always welcome. (Waltham City Hall, Council Chamber, Second Floor, 610 Main St., Waltham)