FOOD ON THE FOOD

Making Bagels

It never once occurred to me to make my own bagels. Not until I picked up Jennifer Reese's book, Make the Bread, Buy the Butter. In the book, she outlines her advice for which foods are worth making yourself and which ones are better left to the professionals. I was surprised to find bagels in the "make yourself" category. I flagged the recipe for later.

Later never came.

But last week, Husband brought home some bagels from the grocery store and they were god-awful: chalky with an unpleasant flavor. Even I can do better than that, I declared out loud, not sure if I really could but knowing that you have to talk tough if you're going to show your below-average bagel who's boss. I pulled out Reese's book and flipped to the bagel section with an overly dramatic flourish.

Here's what I learned. Making bagels is just like making bread except you boil the dough rings for a few minutes before baking them to a golden brown. (I had no idea you boiled bagels.) The toppings, if you want them, go on after the boiling part (duh) but before the baking (aha!). Otherwise they won't stick. I found it hard to get the dough rings perfectly round. I tried forming the dough into a ball and poking my thumbs through the center as well as rolling the dough into a thick rope and joining the ends. Results were mixed. Most of them came out charmingly misshapen, but, boy, were they delicious, especially warm right out of the oven. They're fun to make, too, all speckled with various toppings.

So, do I agree with the author that homemade bagels are worth the work? If you don't live in New York City, then yes, absolutely. If you do live in NYC, let's face it, you're going to be comparing them to your favorite hallowed bagel place the whole time and nothing will ever live up (and even if they do, you won't admit it). Don't bother. For the rest of us, though, here's your next Sunday morning project!

 

Totally Delicious Homemade Bagels      

Husband sure picked the wrong week to go back on the South Beach Diet. :(

3-1/2 cups high-gluten or bread flour (I used 4 cups all-purpose flour)
1-1/2 Tbsp. instant yeast (I used active dry and it worked fine)
3 Tbsp. granulated sugar
1 Tbsp. kosher salt
1-1/2 cups water or warm whey from making yogurt or cheese
2 Tbsp. barley malt syrup or brown sugar (I used date honey)
Coarse cornmeal for sprinkling
Optional toppings: poppy seeds, sesame seeds, coarse salt, caraway seeds, dried minced onion, dried minced garlic

In the bowl of a mixer, combine the flour, yeast, sugar, and salt. Add the water or whey and beat hard with the paddle for a few minutes until it comes together into a stiff dough (add a little more flour if necessary). At this point, either switch to the dough hook at your own risk (I busted my KitchenAid this way once) or knead the dough by hand on a floured counter for 5 to 10 minutes until the dough is smooth, supple, and spankable (my words—don't blame the author for my colorful descriptors). Place the dough in a greased bowl, cover with a clean, damp dishtowel, and let rise until doubled in bulk, about 1 hour.

Preheat the oven to 400°F. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. While the water is heating, sprinkle a rimmed baking sheet generously with cornmeal (use more than you think or the bagels will fuse to the pan). Lightly grease a second pan.

Punch down the dough with floured fists and divide it into 10 more-or-less equal pieces. Roll each piece into the neatest, roundest ball you can and then, with your thumb, poke a hole in the middle and coax the dough into a bagel shape. Alternatively, you can roll the dough into a thick rope and then join the slightly overlapping ends with a little water. Set the bagels on the lightly greased sheet to rest for 10 minutes.

When the water comes to a rolling boil, add the malt syrup (or brown sugar). Drop the bagels into the water three at a time. Let them simmer for a minute, then flip them over and simmer one minute more. Remove them with a slotted spoon, return to the oiled pan to dry a bit, and repeat with the remaining dough. Transfer all of the bagels to the cornmeal-coated pan and sprinkle on your toppings, if desired.

Bake the bagels for 25 to 35 minutes until golden brown. Store them in a paper bag at room temperature for a few days, or freeze, tightly wrapped, for longer storage. If you end up with some stale bagels, you can always make bagel chips (which are also great in salads and panzanellas).    

Source: Adapted from Make the Bread, Buy the Butter by Jennifer Reese who got it from The New Complete Book of Breads by Bernard Clayton, who adapted it from the erstwhile Jewish restaurant in Paris, Jo Goldenberg's.

Waffles –or– Overcoming Fear of Electricity

Sometimes you have to eat waffles for breakfast AND dinner. Like yesterday!

Husband's vintage waffle iron has been sitting unused for more than a decade. Why? Because I didn't have a decent waffle recipe. And because I'm really afraid of his vintage waffle iron. I don't like that the electrical wiring is visible and situated so close to non-removable parts that require washing. Water is an excellent conductor of electricity, as you know. I am aware that "technically" I won't be electrocuted while washing the waffle iron as long as it's not plugged in, and I know it's not plugged in because I checked it 50 times, and there isn't even an electrical outlet near the sink. BUT STILL, my mental danger bells keep ringing so loudly, over and over again, that I don't even feel like making homemade waffles anymore I have such a headache.

But all that changed thanks to one recipe. And it came from a book that I think you should know about, The Homemade Pantry: 101 Foods You Can Stop Buying and Start Making by Alana Chernila. I'll be raffling off a copy this week, so stay tuned. I made the waffles for breakfast on Sunday morning, slathered them with butter, moistened them with just a bit of maple syrup, then piled strawberries and blueberries that we picked at Carver Hill Orchard on top along with some fresh whipped cream. Holy crap were they ever good. So good, in fact, that when we got back from the Red Sox game and I didn't want to make dinner, we just reheated the leftovers and had them AGAIN.

Take that, Danger Bells, it's double waffle time!!!

Waffles (print-friendly version)

Feel free to sub in half whole wheat flour if you like.

2 large eggs, separated
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
3/4 cup buttermilk, warmed
1 cup whole milk, warmed
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
1/2 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt

Preheat the oven to 200°F.

In a small bowl, whisk together the egg yolks, melted butter, buttermilk, milk, and vanilla. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. In another medium bowl, whip the egg whites several minutes with an electric mixer until they hold soft peaks that droop slightly when the beaters are lifted.

Stir the milk mixture into the flour mixture until combined. Stir in a big spoonful of beaten egg whites until incorporated. Then, with a flexible spatula, gently fold in the remaining egg whites.

Grease the waffle iron either with cooking spray or brush with oil. Scoop 1/2 to 2/3 cup of batter into the hot iron. Cook according to the manufacturer's instructions or until golden and crispy on the outside. Keep warm in a single layer on a sheet pan in the oven until ready to serve. Top with butter and maple syrup, or whatever fresh fruit is in season. Jam is also acceptable. Whipped cream doesn't hurt, either.

Source: Adapted from The Homemade Pantry: 101 Foods You Can Stop Buying and Start Making by Alana Chernila

Local Ingredients:
Eggs: Eric's Eggs, Starksboro, VT
Butter: Cabot, Cabot, VT
Buttermilk: Kate's Homemade Butter, Old Orchard Beach, ME
Milk, cream: High Lawn Farm, Lee, MA
Berries: Carver Hill Orchard, Stow, MA

Huevos Rancheros

The first thing I did when I made my deadline was to drag my neighbor out for Mexican, and then proceed to devour an entire Fiesta Plate all by myself along with most of my friend's refried beans, half a pitcher of sangria, and a giant piece of tres leches cake. Don't look at me like that—you can't celebrate a partially-completed dessert cookbook without cake!

That was followed soon thereafter by the peanut marzipan you saw in my previous post, because I can't go a whole week without sugar, you know that. Then came the huevos rancheros: warm corn tortillas strewn with cumin-scented black beans, fried eggs nestled on top, scattered with crumbled cheese and cilantro leaves, and ribboned with salsa or hot sauce. What can I say, I've really been digging Mexican food lately. I know I need to get back to work eventually, but right now, the fiesta continues!!

Huevos Rancheros

This is one of my favorite lazy meals because we always have eggs, cheese, a can of black beans, and a partially eaten jar of salsa on hand. If I have corn tortillas in the back of the fridge, I'll use them. If not, I leave them out. We eat this as often for dinner as for brunch.

1-2 Tbsp. olive oil
1 medium onion, chopped
1-2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 tsp. ground cumin (or more)
Pinch of cayenne
Salt and pepper
1 big can black beans, rinsed, drained
1 Tbsp. chopped cilantro
Fresh farm eggs
Cheese, crumbled or grated (e.g., queso fresco, cheddar, monterey jack, mozzarella)
Small corn tortillas
Salsa or hot sauce

Heat olive oil in a medium pot over medium heat until shimmery. Sauté onions until soft and translucent, about 4 minutes. Add garlic, cumin, and cayenne, and stir about 30 seconds. Stir in rinsed beans and a few tablespoons of water. Season with salt and pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, until liquid evaporates and flavors meld, about 5 minutes. Remove from heat and cover with lid to keep warm.

In a non-stick pan, cook the eggs how you like them. I like mine over-easy (i.e., runny). Husband likes his with the yolks broken and completely cooked. My kids only like them scrambled. You can make a whole bunch of sunny-side-up eggs at once by cracking them into different quadrants of the same pan so the whites run together but the yolks are spaced out. Let them fry for a minute or two, then add a bit of water on top, cover, and steam until the tops are set. Then just use a spatula to cut between the yolks into portions.

Heat up the tortillas. I do this in the microwave in a stack covered with a damp paper towel. You can also do it in a hot, dry skillet for about 30 seconds per side.

To serve, arrange tortillas on plates. Scatter some beans on top. Set an egg in the middle and sprinkle with cheese. Spoon on some salsa or a squirt of hot sauce, and sprinkle with cilantro, salt, and pepper. Customize as you see fit, with sour cream, avocado or guacamole, or your own homemade pico de gallo when tomatoes are at their best.

Local Ingredients
Eggs: Allandale Farm, Brookline, MA
Tortillas: Cinco de Mayo, Lynn, MA

Crispy Hash Browns

Wow, you guys.  Never have I gotten so many desperate pleas for a recipe as I have in the past few days after the mere mention of hash browns.  It's nice to know that I have such a discerning/obsessed readership.  Now that we've had a chance to dig ourselves out of the foot and a half of snow that fell yesterday, I'm happy to share my technique.  It produces a well-seasoned potato patty that's crisp on the outside and soft on the inside.  In short: perfect.

 

Crispy Hash Browns

3 medium Yukon gold potatoes (or other starchy potato)
Kosher salt and black pepper
Olive oil

Peel and grate potatoes using the large holes on a box grater (watch your knuckles!).  Line a colander with cheesecloth or non-linty dishtowel.  Set grated potato on towel in colander and sprinkle with several pinches of kosher salt, tossing to distribute.  Let sit 5 minutes. 

Heat a large skillet (I like cast iron) with 2 Tbsp. olive oil on medium heat.  (If you're making the hash browns to go with sausage and vegetable hash, you may have some fat left over in the skillet so you can use less oil).  While the pan is heating, gather up the sides of the towel, twist, and squeeze the potatoes hard over the sink so all of the moisture drips out.  Repeat several times.  You want the potatoes dry, dry, dry before they hit the pan.  You should be left with a wad of potato pulp about the size of a baseball.

When the pan is good and hot, take 1/3 of grated potatoes, pull apart, and spread out into a potato pancake no more than 1/2-inch thick.  You want the potato loosely packed with lacy edges.  Sprinkle with black pepper, press down with a spatula, then leave it alone for about 10 minutes.  Time will vary depending on your pan and the flame.  When you see the edges start to brown significantly, carefully loosen with the spatula and lift up an edge.  If the hash brown is merely golden on the bottom and kind of sags, let it cook more time.  What you want is a crust on the bottom that can withstand the weight of the hash brown itself.  It's called hash brown for a reason (just take care not to make it a hash black).  Flip and repeat on the second side.  When nice and crispy brown, let drain on paper towels and season with salt.  Repeat with two more batches of potatoes, squeezing any additional moisture that may have been drawn out by the salt, and adding more oil to the pan as necessary.  Serves 2 adults and 2 kids (who split the third).

A few other notes: You could probably use a food processor fitted with the grater disk, though it takes less time to grate three potatoes by hand than it would for me to locate and later wash all of the parts of the food processor.  Don't let your peeled/grated potatoes sit out too long before cooking or they will turn brown.  Also, be sure to rinse out the squeezing towel with water soon afterwards so it doesn't stain brown.  If you need to speed up the frying process, use two skillets simultaneously.  Finally, if your kids turn up their noses at your beautiful hash browns, just say they're like hamburgers made out of French fries and suddenly at least one of them is chowing down.

Local Ingredients:
Potatoes: Waltham Fields, Waltham, MA/Picadilly Farm, Winchester, NH

Sausage and Root Vegetable Skillet Supper

Don't you just love breakfast for dinner?  Or "brinner" as my oldest calls it. 

To me, brinner usually means that Husband is making his amazing blueberry pancakes and I'm off duty, a double score for me.  Sometimes it means I'm frying up bacon and eggs.  More recently, though, I've been whittling down my root vegetable stash by making sausage and vegetable hash.  It makes fine cold- weather fare for breakfast, brunch, or brinner.  It is best served with hash- browned potatoes on the side or, as Husband easily convinced me, broken up so the crispy, lacy bits mingle with the rest of the vegetables.  My super-simple hash brown technique is here.  In the meantime, go find yourself some squash.


Sausage and Root Vegetable Skillet Supper (with Crispy Hash Browns)

If you don't have access to these particularly delicious breakfast sausages, you can substitute high-quality ground pork mixed with a healthy dose of salt, ground sage, and black pepper, as well as a touch of cayenne and ground coriander.  You could also use bacon.  Feel free to omit the root vegetables you don't like and replace them with others that you do, like carrots, sweet potatoes, and rutabagas.

1/2-1 lb. farm-fresh, breakfast sausage patties
1-2 Tbsp. bacon fat (or oil, if you prefer)
1/2 butternut squash, peeled, 1/2-inch dice
1 medium turnip, peeled, 1/2-inch dice
1 medium celery root, peeled, 1/2-inch dice
2 parsnips, peeled, sides sliced off the woody core, 1/2-inch dice
1 red onion, 1/2-inch dice
2 Tbsp. olive oil
1 Tbsp. chopped fresh rosemary
1 Tbsp. chopped fresh thyme
Salt and pepper to taste

Preheat the oven to 350°F. 

In a large skillet, preferably cast iron, melt the fat and brown the sausage meat, breaking the patties into bite-sized pieces as you go.  You want the pieces fully cooked and golden-brown on several sides.  When done, remove meat and set aside.  Reserve skillet (unwashed) for hash browns.

While sausage is browning, wash, peel, and chop the squash, turnip, celery root, parsnips, and onion.  Combine on a large rimmed baking sheet with olive oil, rosemary, thyme, salt, and pepper.  Toss with your hands until well-coated.  Roast for 40 minutes, flipping once, or until the vegetables are tender and golden. 

Meanwhile, make the hash browns.  Combine the vegetables, sausage, and hash browns in the skillet and brinner is served.

Source: Inspired by an adaptation of the Red Lion Inn recipe in The Boston Globe.

Local Ingredient Sources
Sausage: Chestnut Farms, Hardwick, MA
Bacon fat: From bacon from Codman Farm, Lincoln, MA
Squash, turnip, red onion, potatoes: Waltham Fields, Waltham, MA
Parsnips: Sugar Mountain Farm, Whately, MA (via Russo's)
Rosemary: My half-dead plant

Pancakes (and Parentheses)

I haven’t cooked that much this week due to a looming deadline I foolishly thought I’d be up for.  (Note to self: Get your life in order first.  You have all the time in the world for this kind of stuff later.  Maybe.) 

Happily, Husband made his famous Eat Local blueberry pancakes (along with Codman Farm bacon) for dinner last night, or “brinner” as the First Grader likes to call it.  I always find the act of eating pancakes to be not only delicious but therapeutic.  My ritual has been the same for as long as I can remember:

Place pat of butter on top of each warm pancake, preferably on a stack three high, to induce at least partial melting (soft, partially melted butter is always better than fully melted butter; cold, hard butter is unacceptable).  Pour maple syrup over the stack, making sure most of it drips down the sides forming pools for dipping.  Gravity has never let me down so far. (Over the years, I’ve settled on the dipping strategy because dry pancakes with the syrup already soaked in might as well have no syrup at all.  You can keep pouring more syrup on top, but it’s just going to keep soaking in.  How big is your maple syrup budget?  My rule of thumb is, if the piece of pancake I’m about to eat doesn’t shine with syrup, then there’s not enough syrup.  (Hence the dipping.)). 

One side of the stack at a time, cut off the edges, dip them, etc. (I tend to cut them into smaller pieces to make the process last as long as possible).  That leaves me with a square stack of interior pancakes soaked with maximum butter, which gets cut into four equal squares (NOT triangles) to mop up the syrup until it’s gone.  Add more syrup to finish off squares.  Note remaining syrup.  Get more pancakes to finish off syrup.  Repeat.  (Pancake-to-syrup ratio is similar to the milk-to-cereal ratio discussed in previous guest post.)

You could analyze this all sorts of different ways, about saving the best for last or trying to exert some control over one’s environment, but I think it’s just that I really like butter and maple syrup.  Needless to say, my manner of pancake consumption drives Husband crazy.  For me, it’s comforting because it reminds me of who I am.  This becomes increasingly important the less physically recognizable I become.  And, who I am, apparently, is someone who likes to subject herself to alternately stressful and euphoric manic writing binges with unreasonable deadlines. 

(And pancakes.)

 

Blueberry Whole Wheat Pancakes

I’m reprising this recipe from a post a few years ago, it’s such a favorite.

4 eggs
2 cups milk
¼ cup vegetable oil
6 Tbsp. butter, melted
1¼ cup whole wheat flour
1¼ cup all-purpose flour
2 Tbsp. baking powder
2 Tbsp. maple sugar
1 tsp. salt
1½ cups frozen blueberries, defrosted

Beat eggs in a large bowl until light and foamy.  Add milk, oil, and butter, and whisk to blend.  Sift dry ingredients over wet ingredients in bowl, and whisk until combined.

Heat nonstick frying pan over medium heat until hot (test by flicking some water into the pan; the water droplets should sizzle vigorously and disappear).  Pour batter into pan in the size you prefer, and sprinkle blueberries over the batter.  Let the pancakes get some color, then flip.  Repeat with remaining batter.  Apply butter and maple syrup, and you’re good to go.

Local Sources:

Eggs, bacon: Codman Farm, Lincoln, MA

Milk: Stonyfield Farm, Londonderry, NH

Butter: Cabot, Cabot, VT

Whole wheat flour: Wood Prairie Farm, Bridgewater, ME (mail order)

Maple sugar: The Warren Farm & Sugarhouse, North Brookfield, MA (Waltham Farmer’s Market)

Blueberries: Wyman’s, Milbridge, ME

Maple syrup: Butternut Mountain Farm, Morrisville, VT