Ginger ale -- REAL ginger ale

Ever since I tasted Reeds, I've had a thing for ginger ale.  If all you've ever had is Schweppes or Canada Dry, you're in for a treat.  Real ginger ale is sweet and sour and piquantly spicy all at the same time.  It's anything but the bland, pedestrian soda you sipped as a kid when you were sick (although the ginger in the real stuff may still be good for an upset stomach).

When we lived in Seattle, there was a coffee shop in Freemont that sold homemade ginger ale in unmarked brown glass bottles.  It was good stuff, but I don't know of an equivalent in Durham.  Besides, ever since I got into making wine, I've wanted to try making my own soft drinks.  As it turns out, making soda is far easier than making wine, and you get to enjoy the results a lot faster.

Yes, soda originally involved fermentation with yeast, back in the days before we made machines to force carbon dioxide into liquids under high pressure.  The process is essentially the same as making beer or wine, except the bottle is kept closed to capture the carbon dioxide generated by the yeast, and the fermentation is stopped early, before any significant amount of alcohol is produced.

There are a few tools and ingredients that you need, so I'll get those out of the way first.  Only two or three are truly unusual, so it's really not hard to get started!

• Wine yeast.  People generally recommend Red Star Premier Cuvee, as it ferments fast and clean.  I also tried Lalvin EC1118, but got less carbonation.  The little packets are about $1 each, so it's dead cheap if you have a homebrew store nearby.  If you do mail order, everybody charges $10 in shipping, although American Brewmaster in Raleigh was slightly cheaper.  It is possible to use regular baking yeast to make soda, but it adds some distinctive flavors that, while not terrible, are sort of distracting.  Having tried both, I'd highly recommend springing for the wine yeast.  Store it sealed in plastic in the freezer for up to a year.  Each packet holds enough to make several gallons.
• Food-grade citric acid.  Citric acid is what gives lemons and limes their zing, and what makes many soft drinks pleasantly tart.  You could use real lemon or lime juice, but I think you'd need a cup or two to get the same effect -- kind of a pain.  Many other recipes include cream of tartar (a.k.a. tartaric acid) instead, for "mouth feel", but I can't see that it contributes anything useful -- I think citric acid works much better.  You can get an 8 oz bag of citric acid from the New England Cheesemaking Supply Company for $5 and it will last you a lifetime.  Besides, you need to order...
• High thread count cheese cloth.  The "cheese cloth" you find in the grocery store is too open to actually catch much of anything;  the real stuff has a much tighter weave.  Get the 90 thread count Butter Muslin from New England Cheesemaking at the same time you get the citric acid.  A couple layers of this will catch most of the ginger residue when you strain your soda.
• Coffee filters (optional).  Straining the ginger ale through coffee filters removes the fine particles that otherwise make the final product hazy instead of clear.  The cheese cloth is still necessary to first remove 99% of the big chunks that would otherwise clog your coffee filters in an instant.
  
• Four 1L bottles or two 2L bottles.  Get plastic seltzer bottles (1L) or soda bottles (2L), ones that are designed to hold carbonated liquids under pressure.  I prefer the 1L bottles because there's less soda left over to go flat.  (However, bottles will re-pressurize to some extent as they sit in the fridge.)  If you try to use regular spring water bottles, they'll leak or deform or pop.  Plastic is also safer than glass (e.g. beer bottles), because you can feel how much pressure there is by squeezing, instead of taking you best guess and praying nothing explodes.
• Two large pots.  Each should hold a gallon of liquid comfortably.
• A sieve or strainer.  It's much easier if you can suspend this above one of the pots.  The mesh doesn't matter;  you'll line it with coffee filters and/or cheese cloth.
• A funnel and ladle.  For filling the bottles -- trying to pour from the big pot doesn't work so well  :)
• A food processor.  A blender might work in a pinch.  If you have a juicer, I hear this is great for ginger, but I haven't tried it personally.
• An instand-read thermometer.  For measuring the water temperature.  If you don't have one, 100 F feels like warm (but not hot) bathwater.  It's better to be a little under than a little over, because overly hot water will kill the yeast.
• A digital kitchen scale.  You can get by without it, but it makes all your cooking so much easier.  Spend $25 and pick one up from Amazon.  Get one that does at least 5 lbs. in 1/8 oz increments or finer.  You won't regret it.

Now, on to the recipe!  Because you're trying to grow microorganisms in sugar water on your countertop, cleanliness is worth paying attention to, so that you grow the right microorganisms.  But since it's only out for a few days before it goes in the fridge, you don't have to be crazy about, and you certainly don't have to sterilize everything.  A nice wash with soapy water will be just fine.

(3 oz peeled ginger)

In the food processor, combine

1. 3 oz peeled ginger root, or to taste
2. 18 oz granulated sugar (2 1/2 c)

Run the food processor for several minutes, until you have a uniform, light golden paste.  Processing the ginger with the sugar ensures that it gets chopped much finer than it would by itself.  Three ounces of ginger makes a pleasantly zippy ginger ale.  If you like more of a kick, try 6 oz.  I like it that way, though most of my friends don't.  I've tried all the way up to 12 oz, but it just burns your mouth and is no fun to drink.  Also, some recipes recommend using brown sugar, but I find this muddies the taste.

In a large pot over medium heat, bring to 100 F

1. 4 L water

Use your soda bottles to easily measure out 4 L of water.  Remove from heat, scrape in the ginger paste, then add

1. 3/4 t citric acid
2. 1 T vanilla extract (optional)

This is a good time to taste the mix, and adjust anything that wants adjusting.  Don't put your germy spoon back in the pot!  Let it sit for 10 or 15 minutes to make sure all the flavor gets extracted.

Set the collander over the clean pot, and line it with overlapping coffee filters.  Place several layers of fine cheese cloth over the filters.  Strain the mixture into the clean pot.  Sprinkle over top

1. 1/4 t Red Star Premier Cuvee yeast

Let sit for at least 15 minutes, and up to an hour.  Stir well, and use the funnel when ladling ginger ale into bottles.  Leave a little air space at the top.  Squeeze bottle gently to bring liquid all the way to the top, and cap tightly.

Your soda will ferment (and therefore carbonate) over the next 2 - 3 days.  It will probably take at least 24 hours before you see any activity.  The first signs are bubbles collecting on the sides of the bottle near the top.  Then the air space will re-appear at the top, and the sides will straighten. Shortly after, the bottle will start to become rigid, like an unopened bottle of soda from the store.  To some extent, the longer the fermentation continues, the more carbonated the drink will become.  Of course, as the pressure increases, so does the chance of an explosion!  I wait 24 hours (no more, no less) after the bottles first becomes rigid, and then move them to the refrigerator.  The low temperature effectively halts the fermentation, although if the bottles warm up again, fermentation will resume.  The total time from preparation to refrigerator is about 48 to 72 hours.  (For the nervous among you, don't stop early either, or your soda won't have much in the way of fizz!)

If you used the coffee filters, your ginger ale should end up mostly clear, although there will always be some ginger + dead yeast sediment in the bottom of the bottle.  If you skipped the coffee filters, it will be cloudier (but still delicious).  Try to pour gently, and you can leave most of the sediment in the bottom of the bottle.  Grab yourself a glass of ice, and enjoy!

According to my measurements, the ginger ale starts with enough sugar to generate 5% alcohol by volume, if it were fermented completely dry.  In practice, very little of the sugar is actually converted to alcohol.  Following the recipe above, there's so little alcohol I can't measure it when I transfer the bottles to the fridge.  I'd say it's less than a quarter of one percent.  There's probably more alcohol in a mouthful of beer or wine than in a whole bottle of my ginger ale, but still, use your best judgement.

The possible variations are almost endless.  All sorts of citrus flavorings would be welcome additions, and I've actually contemplated building a ginger ale on top of lemonade or limeade.  (You'd have to reduce the amount of added sugar, and probably eliminate the citric acid.)  One recipe I saw included spices like black pepper and cayenne.  And my mom suggested a vanilla ice cream - ginger ale float, which made me consider adding vanilla to the mix (though I'm not sure how, since I don't think the flavor extracts into water very efficiently).  Finally, you could double the sugar and start the fermentation with the bottles unsealed.  When you reached 5% alcohol, you could seal them up and end up with alcoholic ginger ale, which sounds fun.  (This would generate more sediment though;  I'm not sure how to deal with that.  You could do the primary fermentation in a separate vessel before bottling, but that's a good bit of extra work.)

I started this recipe from several excellent sources on the web (Jerry Halstead, Mark Sexauer, Jeffrey Morgenthaler), and refined it with a couple of rounds of experimentation.  I hope you enjoy it!  And I'd love to hear of any great variations you come up with.

Turnips and Onions

I had turnips for the first time this winter, thanks to Papa Spuds.  They kept showing up on the list, and I figured, if this is what grows in the winter in NC, I should learn to cook it.  As far as I can tell, people generally treat them like potatoes and mash them.  But they're less starchy and much more watery (so they cook down), and they have a distinctive, slightly sharp flavor.  It reminds me a little of horseradish, for some reason -- I think this dish would be amazing with a nice steak for that reason.

They look a bit homely, but trust me, this is good stuff for a cold winter night.

In salted water to cover, boil

1. 1 1/2 lbs. turnips, peeled and cubed (about 3 medium)

until tender, about 15 minutes.  Drain and return to the warm burner to dry slightly, then mash with a hand masher and mix with

1. 1/4 c cream

Place mashed turnips in a greased casserole dish.

While the turnips boil, put a large stainless steel skillet over medium heat.  (Nonstick won't work because the onions don't caramelize as well or develop as much fond, and cast iron won't work because you can't see the difference between caramelized and burnt against the dark surface.  Stainless it is.)  Add

1. 1 T butter
2. 1 T olive oil
3. 2 medium yellow onions, sliced
4. 1 t sugar
5. salt to taste

Cook, stirring frequently, until onions are soft and browned, and a thick layer of brown fond has collected on the bottom of the pan.  If the fond begins to turn very dark and look or smell burnt, reduce the heat!  To the hot skillet, add

1. 1/4 c water
2. 1 T balsamic vinegar

With a wooden spoon, stir rapidly, scraping the bottom of the pan clean.  All the fond should dissolve and coat the onions.  (Bonus:  cleanup will be easy.)  Continue to cook over medium-low heat until the excess water evaporates and the onions are coated a rich brown sauce.  (If you take it too far and bits begin to stick to the bottom again, add more water and repeat the cycle.)  Layer the onions over the turnips in the casserole.

Bake in a moderate oven until heated through and bubbling, about 15 minutes.  350 F will work fine, but so will most other temperatures, and the time isn't too critical.  This is a good way to hold the turnips until the rest of the meal comes together.  Both the turnips and the onions really cook down a surprising amount, so this only makes 3-4 servings.  I'm sure it could easily be doubled, though.

Blueberry jam muffins

This is a Cook's Illustrated recipe that addresses the only real problem with blueberry muffins:  you taste mostly muffin, and only a little blueberry.  The trick is to boil down some of the berries into jam, and then stir them into the muffins just before baking.

In a small saucepan, boil and mash until reduced to a thick jam:

1. 1 c (5 oz) blueberries, fresh or frozen
2. 1 t sugar

In a mixing bowl, whisk to combine

1. 2 1/2 c (12 1/2 oz) flour
2. 2 1/2 t baking powder
3. 1 t salt
4. 1 c (5 oz) blueberries, fresh or frozen

If using frozen berries, rinse them under cold water and dry them before adding them to the flour mixture.  In a separate bowl, whisk together

1. 2 eggs
2. 1 1/8 c (8 oz) sugar
3. 4 T (1/2 stick) butter, melted
4. 1/4 c vegetable oil
5. 1 c buttermilk
6. 1 1/2 t vanilla
7. zest of one orange (optional)

Gently fold wet and dry ingredients together, just until moistened.  (Some spots of dry flour may remain.)  Spoon batter into 12 greased, standard size muffin cups (cups will be full).  Divide jam among cups, swirling into the batter with a chopstick.  Sprinkle sugar over tops of muffins.  Bake at 425 for about 17 minutes, just until a toothpick comes out clean.  Cool for 5 minutes in the pan before transferring to rack to cool.

If using the orange zest, you can also make an orange glaze out of the orange juice and powdered sugar (approximately 1 cup) -- top the muffins with glaze before serving.  If not using the orange zest, you can incorporate lemon zest into the sugar used for topping the muffins.

Éclairs with peanut butter pastry cream

Pregnant women like éclairs.  Kind of a lot, actually.  I had been promising Katy I would make her some for a month before I finally got around to it, and as it happened my parents came to visit the next day.  Everybody was so taken with them that Katy and I decided to make more over Christmas, to celebrate my parents' anniversary.

As fancy as they look, the dough for these guys is a five minute proposition.  Really.  Amid some protest, I had Katy do this batch, and she admitted it was really easy.  (Of course, now she knows how to make them for herself, which could be dangerous  :)

There are lots of possibilities for filling, from whipped cream to ice cream.  I tried pudding once, but it was too wet and made the pastry soggy.  The better choice is pastry cream, which is quite similar to pudding but holds up better.  The King Arthur cookbook has a fussy version that requires you to separate eggs and fold in whipped cream, but it has a bunch of great ideas for flavor variations.  On the other hand, the version below is quite simple, but takes to flavoring equally well.  Make the pastry cream 1 - 3 days in advance so it can chill well, and then assembly is fast and easy on the day of.

Peanut butter pastry cream
(based on a recipe from The Advanced Professional Pastry Chef)

In a saucepan, bring to a simmer

1. 2 c milk
2. 1/2 vanilla bean, scraped (or add 1 t vanilla extract at the very end)

Meanwhile, whisk together

1. 4 T cornstarch
2. 4 oz (1/2 c + 1 T) granulated sugar
3. 1/4 t salt
4. 2 eggs

Slowly whisk a third of the hot milk into the egg mixture, then whisk that back into the remainder of the milk.  Bring to a full boil and hold for at least 10 seconds, then remove from heat.  It's important to get it back up to a boil to kill enzymes in the eggs, or they'll slowly digest the cornstarch and un-thicken the cream.  Remove vanilla pod (or add extract).  Whisk in

1. 4 T butter
2. 1/2 c creamy peanut butter (optional)

Press plastic wrap over surface and chill thoroughly.  I mix the eggs up in a 4 c Pyrex measure, then return the finished cream to it for chilling -- cuts down on the dishes to wash, and I figure the boiling-hot cream will safely sterilize any bits of raw egg left in the cup.  This recipe makes about 3 c of pastry cream, though you can stretch it further (if desired) by folding in a cup or two of whipped cream at the end.

Éclair dough (pâte à choux)
(from the King Arthur Baker's Companion)

In a saucepan, bring to a rolling boil

1. 1 c water
2. 1 stick (1/2 c) butter
3. 1/4 t salt

Pull off heat and dump in

1. 5 1/4 oz (1 1/4 c) flour

Return to heat and stir vigorously until the dough comes together into a single mass.  Cook about 1 minute.  Pull off the heat and allow to cool until you can comfortably stick a finger in it (about 140 F), about 5 minutes.  Transfer to a mixer and beat in, one at a time

1. 4 eggs

After beating in the last egg, beat for at least 2 more minutes.  Doing the eggs one at a time and beating the dough at the end are important -- I glossed over this once, and the dough didn't really rise.  The times I remembered, it turned out beautifully.

Transfer the dough to a large zip-top plastic bag, placing it near one of the bottom corners.  Snip away that corner, then pipe out finger-sized pieces of dough onto a baking sheet fitted with parchment paper or a Silpat.  I get three rows of six or seven.  Wet a finger and use it to flatten any little "tails" that are still sticking up where you pulled the bag away.

Bake at 450 F for 15 mintues, then drop the heat to 350 F for another 20 minutes.  Pull out the éclairs, poke their ends with a paring knife to let out any trapped steam, and return to the oven for a final 5 minutes.  Remove and cool on racks.

Chocolate glaze
(King Arthur Baker's Companion)

In the microwave (or over a double boiler) melt together

1. 1 T butter
2. 1 oz unsweetened baking chocolate

Beat these together, then beat in

1. 1 T hot tap water
2. 1/2 c (2 oz) confectioners' sugar

To assemble éclairs, cut the pastries in half horizontally and fill with cream.  Spoon chocolate glaze over top.  (If you want to be generous with the chocolate, make a double batch.)  They keep for several days, but they're really transcendant when they're first made -- after just a few minutes, they start to get a bit soggy.  If possible, fill them just before serving for best effect!

Bûche de Noël (Yule Log cake)

After Katy and I made gingerbread houses for Evan and his friends to decorate, I got to thinking about holiday baking.  I decided it might be fun to try another classic show piece, the yule log -- maybe as a treat to celebrate my parents 35th anniversary when we went down to visit.  Two days later, I got this email from my mom:

Should we make something fabulous for dessert? I've always wanted to try one of these - Buche-de-Noel-with-Marzipan-Mushrooms

Great minds think alike, I guess.  So away we went.  There are lots of recipes on the internet, but some are pretty questionable -- the first cake recipe was a disaster that called for mixing melted chocolate with water, leading to gritty, nasty clumps of seized chocolate in the cake.  (That cake was reincarnated a few days later as a trifle, but that's another story.)  Eventually we cobbled together the necessary components from trusted sources, though, and the result was delicious!  Although I'm not known for, er, pretty food, decorating it was really straightforward too.

Jelly Roll Cake
(from the King Arthur Flour Baker's Companion)

In a stand mixer, whisk until thick and doubled or tripled in volume

1. 4 eggs, at room temperature
2. 3/4 c (5 1/4 oz) granulated sugar

Start the eggs first, then slow add the sugar as the mixer is running.  To quickly get the eggs to room temperature, put them in a bowl and cover with hot tap water for a few minutes.  Mix in

1. 1 t vanilla extract

Sift together

1. 3/4 c (3 oz) all-purpose flour *
2. 3/4 t baking powder
3. 1/4 t salt

Gently whisk the flour mixture into the egg mixture.  If you want a chocolate cake, replace the 3/4 c flour with 1/2 c flour plus 1/4 c cocoa (sifted).  I think the vanilla cake would look more like "wood" under the frosting "bark", but chocolate did work well for me.  Grease a 10" x 15" jelly roll pan, cover the bottom in parchment paper, grease again, and dust with flour (shaking out excess).  This is a very sticky cake -- don't try cutting corners!  Pour in the batter and smooth out to an even layer.  Bake at 400 F until the center is just barely set, about 12 minutes.  Err on the side of underbaking, as an overbaked cake will crack when you try to roll it.
Invert the cake onto a smooth dish towel dusted with powdered sugar (to prevent sticking).  Actually, my cake still stuck, so I'm considering greased wax paper plus powdered sugar next time.  Starting at a short edge, roll up the cake and towel together, and let cool completely on a wire rack.

Rich Chocolate Buttercream
(from The Ultimate Southern Living Cookbook)

Traditional buttercreams require a boiled sugar syrup, but easy buttercreams like this one just whip together butter and powdered sugar.  The double chocolate makes it extra flavorful.

In a double boiler, melt

1. 2 oz unsweetened chocolate
2. 2 oz semisweet chocolate

We used two squares each of Baker's.  You could also probably use the microwave. In a stand mixer, beat until creamy

1. 2 sticks (1 c) butter

Add the melted chocolate and

1. 4 c sifted powdered sugar
2. 1/4 c cocoa, sifted
3. 1/4 c milk
4. 2 t vanilla extract

Beat until creamy and spreadable.

Assembly and Garnish

Once the cake has cooled, unroll and spread evenly with about two-thirds of the frosting.  Leave an inch or two at one of the short ends lightly frosted, as frosting tends to squish forward when the cake is rolled up.  Starting at the other short end, roll the cake back up into a log.

Using a serrated knife, cut off about three inches from one end, at an angle.  (Some people trim both ends, to show off the frosting/cake spiral, but I liked the tree-like look of the crispy cake ends.)  Gently smoosh the cut end up against one side of the roll to make a branch.  Cover the cake in the remaining frosting.  Use the tines of a fork to make a few knots by turning them in a circle, then trace out wood grain by dragging the fork gently along the cake.

We weren't up for making marzipan holly or meringue mushrooms this year, so we used some real holly leaves (washed) with some fresh cranberries that were rolled in sugar while still wet.  (Holly berries are poisonous, so just in case, we removed the leaves after taking the picture.)  Use a strainer to dust a little powdered sugar over the top to create the snow effect, if desired.

Creamed Spinach

The last year, I've really been into kale. It all started with this recipe on Orangette. And this time of year, Papa Spuds has great kale available every week.

Unfortunately, pregnant women get random cravings and aversions, and kale is currently on Katy's naughty list. So we ordered spinach instead, which would be fine -- but this was not your tender, sweet, salad-ready baby spinach. This was rugged, leathery, muddy spinach that had been fighting off the cold weather tooth and nail.  Mature spinach, to put it delicately.  I was worried it was going to be inedible, actually.

Creaming saves the day.  There's no magic chemistry to creaming spinach (or corn, which also loves to be creamed).  But it sure is delicious.  This is a fairly high fat version, which doesn't hurt the deliciousness of course, but you could eliminate the butter and replace the cream with milk and it would still be fine.  The cornstarch gives body to the sauce, which is particularly important for the low-fat version.
In a medium pot, cook until wilted, stirring contantly

1. 1 large bunch spinach with stems, washed, dried, and coarsely chopped (about 8 oz.)
2. 1 T butter
3. salt to taste

I think you can skip this step and immediately add the next ingredients, but this is the way I actually tried it last night.  If you're omitting the butter, definitely skip ahead -- don't try wilting the spinach in a dry pot.  Whisk together

1. 1/2 c half-and-half
2. 1 1/2 t cornstarch
3. fresh ground black pepper
4. few grates fresh nutmeg
5. 1/4 t smoked paprika

It's important to blend the cornstarch into the cold cream before heating, so that it doesn't clump.  Stir into the spinach and simmer over low heat, covered, until the spinach is tender and the sauce is thickened, about 10 minutes.  You could replace the paprika with a little cayenne, or some Tabasco, or a touch of chipotle puree -- anything spicy.  But it really needs that little touch to wake it up.  The same basic recipe also works for corn, although I'd drop the spices and stick to salt and pepper.

As a footnote, cornstarch is a really useful thickener.  Like flour, the starch molecules unwind and thicken the liquid they're suspended in when heated to near boiling.  But unlike flour, which generally has to be cooked in a roux to get rid of the raw taste, cornstarch doesn't taste like much of anything.  It's also quite efficient as a thickener -- you need about 1 T cornstarch per cup, as opposed to 2 T of flour.

Acidified Austrian Potato Salad

I love potato salad (of all types), but I have a problem:  mine always ends up half way to mashed potatoes by the time I'm done.  I guess there's a magic moment when the potatoes are tender but will still hold their shapes, but I never find it.  In an effort to avoid crunchy potatoes, I always overcook them.

However, I learned from Cook's Illustrated that potatoes respond to acid the same way beans do.  That is, acidic conditions keep the cell walls of beans from breaking down and becoming tender, and (slightly) basic conditions promote faster "cooking".  But potatoes cook a lot faster than beans, so instead we can use a little bit of acid -- about 2 T per quart -- to protect them from overcooking.  Conveniently, they seem to cook to the perfect tender-firm texture for potato salad, and then just hold there for another 5 minutes or so!

This particular recipe is similar to a German or Austrian style potato salad, but the same technique would work for a vinaigrette- or mayonnaise-based salad.  Still, this one is well worth a try -- it's got great flavors, and it's actually pretty healthy.

In a 12-inch skillet, bring to the boil

1. 2 pounds Yukon Gold or other potatoes, peeled and cubed
2. 1 c chicken broth
3. 1 c water
4. 1 t salt
5. 1 T sugar
6. 1 T vinegar (scant)

Reduce heat;  cover and simmer until tender, about 15 minutes.  Uncover and increase heat for 2 minutes to reduce liquid to about 1/2 cup.  (If you have more or less, you'll have to drain the potatoes, measure the liquid, and then discard some or supplement with water.  If it looks like about 1/2 cup though, just dump it all in!)  Mash together

1. 1/2 c potato cooking liquid
2. 1 T vinegar
3. 1 T Dijon mustard
4. 1/4 c vegetable oil
5. 1/2 c cooked potatoes

Fold in

1. remaining potatoes
2. 3/4 c finely chopped red onion (1 small)
3. 2 T minced cornichons or kosher dill pickles
4. 2 T minced fresh chives
5. salt and pepper to taste

Serve warm or chilled.

Basic beans -- Lentil Chili

My first exposure to lentils was in a sunny plaza somewhere in Spain;  Toledo, I think.  I hadn't been eating all that well lately -- Spanish food has some spectacular highs, but then sometimes you get a bowl of tiny fish, fried whole, and you don't really feel like bones and scales for lunch.  So I was hungry, but this lentil stew was still fantastic -- deep and rich and savory and comforting, even if you (like me) had never had lentils before.  Although the details have faded by now, I keep trying to recreate that stew.  I think I'm passably close now.

This recipe started life as a meatless "chili" in Bon Appetit, and the first time I made it, the lentils never totally softened up -- they were still a little crunchy.  It turns out that beans of all types are sensitive to pH -- in acidic conditions they stay firm, in basic conditions they go soft.  So if you're cooking dry beans, you want to hold off on adding any acidic ingredients (like the tomatoes in this recipe) until the beans are already soft, or you may be waiting a very, very long time.  (Or eating crunchy beans.  Yuck.)  For insurance, you can also add a tiny pinch of baking soda (like 1/16 t, or less) to ensure the water is not acidic.  (Don't add much, or you'll likely get an off, soapy taste from the soda.  Also yuck.)

I also added meat to the recipe -- in Spain, "vegetarian" is generally interpreted as "with less ham".  The Toledo stew probably featured (hard, cured, Spanish-style) chorizo, but Italian sausage or ground beef or even bacon would add a welcome richness.  The ascetics and vegetarians among you may leave it out, of course.

In a medium-large pot, brown

1. 1/2 lb Spanish-style chorizo (or other sausage)

If you omit the meat, you'll need 2 t olive oil instead.  Now add

1. 1/2 c chopped onion

and saute until slightly softened.  Stir in

1. 2 cloves garlic, minced
2. 1 T mild ground red chile, such as New Mexico, or more to taste
3. 1 T ground cumin
4. 1 t dried oregano

You can find bags of ground chile powders for cheap in the Mexican foods section of most markets.  I've found the heat can vary considerably from batch to batch, so start slowly and add more if you need it.  I've substituted California chiles when I can't find New Mexico, but they're generally hotter.  If your pepper is very mild or you like things very hot, you may want to add some cayenne pepper as well, say 1/8 t to start.  Now stir in

1. 4 c water, plus more as needed
2. 1/4 c red wine (optional)
3. 1 c dried brown lentils, rinsed
4. small pinch (< 1/16 t) baking soda

Simmer for 15 minutes, or until the lentils are tender.  Stir in

1. 1/3 c tomato paste (that's most of a 6 oz can)

Continue to simmer uncovered until chili is thickened and lentils are tender, about 15 minutes.  Add water as needed if it gets too thick.  Before serving, stir in

1. 1/3 c sliced green onions

Top with additional green onions and sour cream (if desired) for garnish.  Serves 4 for dinner (3 if you omit the meat).

Like oil and water

Like oil and water -- that's how I get along with French cooking.  Not that I don't respect the French.  But many of their best dishes require exacting technique, and I'm usually too lazy or too klutzy for anything that precise.  So while my good friend Brian can whip up a lovely vinaigrette the proper traditional way, I was all too happy to discover a cheat.

Most French sauces that blend oily things and watery things have the benefit of egg yolk to hold them together -- hollandaise, bearnaise, mayonnaise.  The lecithin in the egg acts as an emulsifier to allow one of the liquids to "dissolve" in the other, much like soap allows cooking grease to "dissolve" in dish water.  Vinaigrettes are not so lucky -- they have oil, vinegar, and maybe little mustard.  (The mustard helps a little, but not nearly as much as egg yolk.)  So getting a smooth, relatively stable vinaigrette requires adding the oil very slowly and whisking quickly, so that it's so finely broken up it takes at least a few minutes to separate out again.  Too much work.

The folks at Cook's Illustrated discovered, however, that a little dab of mayonnaise from the jar in your fridge will make the vinaigrette emulsify quickly and remain stable for more than an hour.  You can be fairly sloppy about your whisking, or even dump everything in a jar and shake, and it still comes out nice.  That's science I can use.

The basic proportions go like this.  If you're diligent with the whisk, the vinaigrette will be smoother, and thus taste less tart -- you can get away with the lesser amount of oil.  If you're lazy like me, I'd recommend 4 T oil.  The "acid" could be wine vinegar, balsamic, lemon juice, etc.

1. 1 T wine vinegar (or other acid)
2. 1/2 t mayonnaise (regular or light)
   
3. 1/2 t Dijon mustard
4. salt and pepper
   
5. 3 - 4 T extra-virgin olive oil (or other oil)

Combine everything but the oil thoroughly, then whisk in the oil.  Although I haven't tried it, I bet you can get away with dumping it all in a jar and shaking thoroughly too.  You don't have to measure the mayo either -- a little dab should be about right.

Cook's offers a half-dozen variations on this theme:  some shallot, some garlic, some herbs, some citrus zest.  But once you know the proportions above, you can really make the rest up as you go along.

Incidentally, contrary to vinaigrette's reputation, this isn't a very "light" dressing -- it's mostly oil.  It should have about 180 fat calories per 2 T serving.  On the other hand, I made homemade Ranch the other night, and between the lite mayo and the 1% buttermilk, I figure it had quite a lot less fat in it than most of the commercial dressings in my fridge -- somewhere south of 30 fat calories per serving.  (And it tasted good, unlike "lite" Ranch.)  But that's the subject of another post...

The x-ray structure of ginger

Or maybe not. But it's crystalized, at least, and that's as close as I've gotten to structural biology lately. Crystallized (a.k.a. candied) ginger is yummy stuff, but my local Harris Teeter informs me that they only carry it during the holidays. Hmpf. So now I make my own, and it's not too hard, and even the by-products are useful. I love food like that, where nothing is wasted.

I went down this road because of Molly Wizenberg's book, where she describes banana bread with chocolate chips and crystallized ginger. She has another version of the recipe on her blog, but it's not the same as the book. But really, you can use any banana bread: just add in 3/4 c of chocolate chips (Ghirardelli 60%, if you have them) and 1/3 c crystallized ginger.

This recipe is the average, approximately, of what I turned up in a Google search. All the recipes were wildly different. So whatever you do, it will probably turn out just fine.

Start with

1. 1 pound ginger, peeled and sliced thin

How thin is a matter of debate: too thin and they become insubstantial wisps after cooking, too thick and you get a rude jolt of ginger. I think 1/8" is about right (i.e., stack 8 slices and they should measure 1 inch). A vegetable peeler is good for peeling the ginger. Place the ginger in a medium-large saucepan with

1. water to barely cover

Simmer for 20 or 30 minutes. You can also steam the ginger and maybe retain a little more flavor, if you prefer.

Pour off almost all of the ginger water, leaving about 1/2 c behind. (You can save it if you want, mix it with the syrup, and pour over ice for a ginger-beer-like beverage, minus the bubbles.) Add

1. a large quantity of sugar

until you have a saturated sugar solution, more or less. You'll be boiling off excess water, so it doesn't matter too much -- it just takes longer if you skimp on the sugar. I think it's about 2 cups of sugar per 1/2 cup of water in the pot. Simmer until the ginger is translucent and the syrup forms tall, sticky mounds of small bubbles that cover the ginger and threaten to climb out of the pot. (Don't skimp on pot size, either.) You want to stop before the sugar takes on any caramel color at all.

Remove the ginger from the pot with a fork or slotted spoon and place it on a Silpat. (If you don't have one, get one; but in the meantime I'd try a greased cookie sheet.) Try to leave as much syrup behind as you can. Let the ginger dry for 8 - 16 hours, then toss with generous additional sugar while still slightly sticky and chop to desired size. Add more sugar as necessary to keep ginger pieces separated. Store in a plastic container at room temperature.

I'd save the ginger syrup if I were you. It could be good on vanilla ice cream, or drizzled over the aforementioned banana bread. I'm also thinking it would be good with pancakes topped with banana slices. Or perhaps with berries and whipped cream? Or go savory and make a gingery sweet and sour sauce for stir-fry. So many possibilities. Let me know what works out for you!

Baby Meatballs

As in, meatballs for a baby, not cute little meatballs. These are one of the few proteins Evan will eat, and I can see why -- they're really quite delicious, no matter how old you are. The trick is in the grated apple and in breading them before cooking. The recipe is from First Meals by Annabel Karmel.

In a mixing bowl, combine

1. 1 lb. ground beef
2. 1 onion, finely chopped
3. 1 T chopped fresh parsley (optional)
4. 1 chicken bouillon cube dissolved in 2 T hot water (Mmmm, MSG!)
5. 1 small apple, peeled and coarsely grated
6. 1/2 t Worcestershire sauce
7. pinch brown sugar
8. salt and pepper, to taste

Mix thoroughly, then shape into about 24 meatballs. Roll in all-purpose flour to coat, then saute in a little olive oil until browned on all sides and cooked through.

These keep for a few days in the fridge, or you can put them in a plastic container and freeze them. It's easy to take out 1 or 2 frozen meatballs and heat them for ~30 seconds in the microwave for instant baby dinner!

Marshmallows!

Until recently, I had never considered that marshmallows were something you could make at home. Judging by the responses my first batch got, a lot of other people hadn't considered it either. But in fact, it's not that hard to do; they're one of the easiest candies I've ever tried.

To make indoor S'mores, set marshmallows in a nonstick skillet and broil on low power until lightly toasted. (Watch 'em -- they burn within seconds!) Add graham crackers, chocolate, and enjoy.

This recipe is Molly Wizenberg's, from the July 2008 Bon Appetit. (Yes, it sat in my to-make pile for a year. Anymore, that's not too bad.)

In the bowl of a heavy-duty mixer, combine

1. 1/2 c cold water
2. 3 (1/4 oz) packets unflavored gelatin, such as Knox

Let stand until gelatin softens, at least 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, in a heavy medium saucepan, combine

1. 2 c sugar
2. 2/3 c light corn syrup
3. 1/4 salt
4. 1/2 c cold water

Heat and stir until dissolved, then boil without stirring until syrup reaches 240 F. (Use a candy thermometer, please.)

With the mixer's whisk running slowly, pour sugar syrup into gelatin in a thin stream. To direct the stream into the bowl and away from the whisk, I like to pour down the handle of a wooden spoon. Gradually increase speed to high and whisk until mixture is very thick and stiff, 10-15 minutes. Add

1. 2 t vanilla extract

and whisk to combine.

Scrape marshmallow mix into 13" x 9" pan lined with aluminum foil and sprayed with nonstick spray. Smooth top with a wet spatula. Allow to cool completely, about 4 hours.

Sift together

1. 1/2 c potato starch (a.k.a. potato flour)*
2. 1/2 c powdered sugar

Generously dust counter with starch-sugar mix, and invert pan of marshmallows. Generously dust top of slab. Cut into 2" squares (good luck!) and toss with starch-sugar mix to coat. If you're a domestically-inclined ninja, cut them into fun shapes instead. Set on a wire rack to dry for bit before storing in a sealed plastic container.

* I couldn't find potato starch at my grocery store, so I took plain instant mashed potato flakes and ground them to dust in my food processor. It seems to have worked, and remarkably enough, the marshmallows had no hint of potato flavor.

Cheerwine ice cream

Seriously -- what a great idea. Wish I'd thought of it, but Jeanne and Bruce found it in a magazine somewhere. Note that it makes 3 quarts, which is two batches in my little ice cream maker. For those that don't know, Cheerwine is a regional soft drink that's somewhere between Dr. Pepper and Cherry Coke (but better than either!).

In a double boiler, whisk until thickened

1. 4 eggs
2. 2 c whole milk

Whisk in

1. 2 c sugar

Whisk until sugar is dissolved, then remove from heat and strain through a fine-mesh strainer to remove any curdled egg. (I omitted this step because it wasn't in the directions, to my later regret.) Stir in

1. 1 (14 oz) can sweetened condensed milk
2. 1 (12 oz) can evaporated milk

Refrigerate until cold, at least several hours and preferably over night. Just before churning, stir in

1. 2 1/2 c cold Cheerwine
2. 2 c whole milk

Churn according to the directions for your ice cream maker.

Sausage, roasted red pepper, and spinach torta rustica

A really easy and delicious recipe I clipped from Bon Appetit. The substitutions (frozen spinach, half-and-half) are mine. I suspect you could substitute some cheap Swiss for the Fontina to reduce the cost some more, as the cheese is pretty easily the most expensive ingredient.

Butter a 8x8 glass baking dish and line with

1. 16 (1/4") baguette slices

Combine and add to dish

1. 12 oz fresh baby spinach leaves, wilted in 1T butter or 10 oz frozen spinach, squeezed dry
2. 1 lb. sweet Italian sausage, casing removed and sausage browned
3. 1 c (4 oz) grated Fontina cheese
4. 3/4 c diced drained roasted red peppers (from a jar)

Whisk together and pour over top

1. 6 eggs
2. 1 c heavy cream + 1 c whole milk or 2 c half-and-half
3. 1 t salt
4. 1/4 t pepper

Sprinkle with

1. 1/2 c (2 oz) grated Fontina cheese (1.5 c / 6 oz total)

Bake at 350 F for 55 minutes. Let cool 15 minutes before serving.

Cucumber bean salad

This is a really cheap salad that I made out of desperation with things that were left over in the fridge. Surprisingly, it turned out to be quite tasty! The inspiration was flavors from salsa.

Whisk together

1. 1/4 c extra virgin olive oil
2. 3 T cider vinegar
3. 1 T tomato paste
4. 1 t chipotle-in-adobo puree

Pour over

1. 2 large cucumbers, diced
2. 1 (15 oz) can of white beans, rinsed and drained
3. 1/4 c minced white onion
4. 1/4 c chopped cilantro

Add salt and pepper to taste. Should feed at least 4 as a side.

Sweet & Spicy Pecans

This is a simple recipe that I had over the holidays, staying with my in-laws. The pecans are good as a snack or for adding some crunch to a green salad.

In a medium bowl, beat with a fork until slightly foamy

1. 1 egg white

Add

1. 2 c pecan halves

In another bowl, combine

1. 1/2 c sugar
2. 1 1/2 t salt
3. 1 1/2 t chili powder
4. 1/2 t cinnamon
5. pinch cayenne

Pour over nuts and toss to combine. Transfer nuts to a baking sheet lined with parchment paper or a Silpat, leaving behind as much coating as possible. Use fingers to spread nuts into a single layer, separating them slightly. Bake at 300 F for 30 minutes.

Mom's meringue cookies

These were a Christmas tradition growing up -- airy shells of sugar filled with chocolate. They're delicate, crispy-crumbly, mostly dry but just a bit chewy in the middle. The recipe comes from my mother and her mother, and who knows before that. Prep is pretty simple and the ingredients are few, which may explain why Mom made hundreds of these for teacher gifts, family gatherings, and holiday parties.

In the bowl of a stand mixer, whip to until very foamy, but not yet beginning to peak (about 1 minute)

1. 2 egg whites

Any fat at all (greasy bowl, trace of yolk, etc) will keep the whites from reaching the appropriate volume.  Slowly add sugar, and whip at high speed until soft-to-medium peaks (this may take several minutes)

1. 2/3 c sugar (4 5/8 oz)

At medium speed, whip just until incorporated

1. 1 t vanilla extract
2. 1 t cream of tartar (can be omitted in a pinch)

With a rubber spatula, fold in

1. 1 c chocolate chips (6 oz)
2. 1/2 c pecans, chopped to the size of the chips (optional; I leave these out)

Portion out by level tablespoons into 3 dozen cookies on two well-buttered cookie sheets. (Parchment paper or a Silpat is even better.) The cookies don't spread, but will approximately double in volume when baked, so leave about 1.5" between. Place sheets in a preheated 350 F oven and immediately turn off the heat. Leave cookies in the closed oven overnight or at least 8 hours. They will be dry and crisp, but not browned.

My mother-in-law says that her mother made these with chopped berries, so I may try that next!

Pasta with smoked salmon and rosemary cream

This was a yummy dinner that came about almost by accident. We had some salmon that Neil from our parents' group had caught and smoked, and some fresh rosemary from the garden outside Liz and Bob's new house. The salmon wasn't the sort of barely cooked stuff you find sometimes; it was fully cooked, kind of a delicious salmon jerky. To top the whole thing off, we had some smoked salt from Market Spice down at Pike Place -- the crunch and extra smoke was a really nice touch.

Amounts are approximate because I'm guessing after the fact. Cook

1. 8oz dried pasta, such as penne

in boiling salted water until almost done. Drain.

Meanwhile, in a large skillet over medium heat, combine

1. 2 c heavy cream
2. 3/4 c shredded Parmesean
3. 1 sprig fresh rosemary
4. 6 oz smoked salmon, chopped

Cook just until cheese is incorporated and mixture is slightly thickened. Add drained pasta and cook until pasta is tender and coated in sauce. Serve garnished with

1. Salish smoked sea salt (from Market Spice)
   

Turkey gravy

We hosted Thanksgiving for the first time this year, so it was my first time cooking a turkey. I followed the salted turkey recipe from last year's Cooks Illustrated, and it came out well. I think icing down the breast meat really did help everything finish at the same time.

For the gravy, on the other hand, I didn't have a recipe exactly. The day before, I had seen Alton Brown making one with red wine on TV, and I had the trusty Ultimate Southern Living -- but neither was quite what I (thought I) wanted. Funny enough, the gravy got more compliments than anything else I made. So I'm recording it here for next year!

In a medium saucepan, simmer for 45 minutes:

1. half an onion, chopped
2. handful of carrot pieces
3. celery seed (would've used celery if I'd had it)
4. 2 bay leaves
5. large spring fresh thyme
6. small bunch fresh parsley
7. salt and pepper
8. turkey neck
9. turkey gizzard and heart (no liver) (pictures for identifying the pieces)
   
10. water to cover

Strain, chill, skim. Yields ~3 cups stock.

While turkey is resting, pour off all drippings from the roasting pan (don't scrape). Place over burners, add ~1 cup stock, and scrape until all browned bits are dissolved and pan is clean.

In a medium saucepan, make a roux with

1. 4 T butter (half a stick)
2. 1/4 c flour

Pour in pan juices through a fine-mesh sieve and whisk to combine. Whisk in additional broth as needed to reach desired consistency, keeping in mind that full thickening won't happen until the gravy comes to a simmer.

Thai glazed carrots

Carrots? Yes, carrots. I like them in things -- stir fries, pilaf, couscous. And they're fine for snacking, with dip or hummus. But on their own, cooked, I always thought of them as bland and mushy, not far removed from baby food. Even the carrots in ginger ale recipe was a little bland.

These carrots are much nicer: a little tangy, a little sweet (not too much), even a little spicy. And since Katy and I are really trying to watch our food budget, it doesn't hurt that they're 75 cents a pound and used things I had in the refrigerator anyway. (They got created in a what-have-we-got-in-the-fridge moment one night.) They dirty up only one pan and one spoon, which is a big plus in my book. Plus, any vegetable that brightly colored has to be good for you, right?

I used some lemongrass paste from a tube that I had left from some other recipe, when the grocery store didn't have fresh. But I think real lemongrass would be good here too. Ginger would also be nice and would probably be a perfectly respectable substitute.

The Key limes were also a bargain at ~$3 for a whole bag. Although the Key lime cupcakes looked and tasted like playdough, the rest of the limes kept nicely in the refrigerator and made themselves appreciated at several meals later in the week.

This technique is from The Best 30-Minute Recipe, but the flavors are mine. The amounts below are guesses, because I wasn't measuring when I made this :)

Thai glazed carrots

In a large skillet over medium heat, combine

1. 1 pound carrots, peeled and cut into coins on the bias (about 4 large carrots)
2. 1/3 cup water
3. 1 T sugar
4. 1/2 t salt
5. 1 t hot Asian chili or chili-garlic sauce
6. 2 t lemongrass (paste or fresh), or fresh ginger

Cover and steam until carrots are just tender when poked with the tip of a sharp knife. Remove lid and stir in

1. 1 T butter
2. 2 T sugar

Increase heat and cook, stirring, until carrots are tender (but not mushy) and glaze is thickened and lightly caramelized. Remove from heat and toss with

1. juice of 2 Key limes, or 1/2 - 1 regular lime

Goes nicely with a variety of things, even if the rest of the meal isn't Asian.