Almond Biscotti (Low Carb, Gluten Free)

I love almond biscotti. I learned to make it when I was young (like, middle school?) and somehow never got cut on gratter boxes. I also haven't had one in about 2 years, because traditionally they aren't very low carb.

But I have recently discovered the power of XANTHAN GUM. And yes it sounds like a space alien but it's 'all natural' and more importantly it acts like the protein/binder gluten, which DH can't have and isn't found naturally in any of my low carb flours, especially not my prefered one, almond flour.

The first step is to make almond paste that isn't full of sugar. Fortunately, if you have almond flour, egg whites, and your prefered granulated sweetener of choice (I like Splenda, because I don't have to convert the volume measurement, and erythritol makes my tongue break out, so goodbye Truvia) you can make almond paste! Just throw equal quantities of almond flour and sweetener into a food processor, pulse to combine, then add a couple of egg whites. Start with one and keep adding until it is roughly the consistency of play dough. Voila! Almond paste. If you want marzipan, add more sugar. A nice extra touch is to add about 1/2 tsp of almond extract per cup of almond flour.

After that, it follows standard biscotti procedure. How many it makes depends on how you cut them--if you like your biscotti thick there will be fewer. at about a 3/4 inch slice, I got about 18 large biscotti. They stay slightly moist on the inside. You could leave them in a warm oven, or slice them thinner

YUM

Recipe
 1 batch almond paste (1 cup almond flour, '1 cup' sugar sub, 2 egg whites, 1/2 tsp almond extract)
 4 tablespoons cold butter, cut into small pieces

 1 3/4 cup almond flour + 1 1/2 tsp xanthan gum
 1/2 cup sweetener (3 tbsp honey also works, but raises carb count)
 1/2 tsp baking powder
 heavy pinch salt (to taste)
 2 eggs
 1/2 tsp vanilla

Pulse almond paste and butter together in food processor (or stand mixer). Add almond flour, xanthan gum, sweetener, baking powder and salt. Pulse/mix until well blended. Add eggs and vanilla and pulse/mix until mixture is uniform. Form mixture into a large loaf measuring about 6 inches by 18 inches and 1 inch high for large biscotti,or two loaves about 4 inches by 12 inches by an inch for small biscotti, on a baking sheet lined with a silpat or parchment paper. Bake at 350 F about 30 minutes. It should be lightly golden and springy to the touch. Gently transfer to a cutting board and let cool 5 minutes. Use large, sharp knife to cut into even slices, 1/2 inch to 1 inch thick. Lay them cut side down on the baking sheet, bake another 10 minutes. Flip slices gently, and bake another 10 minutes. Cool on tray, then store in a dry place. May soften over time; if that happens, place in a warm oven(even a toaster oven works!) for 10 minutes, and the crunch should be restored.

Shifting Cooking Gears

Cooking has always been about experimenting for me. Going by the recipe is fine for somethings, like candy making or if I know I enjoy this person's particular formulation of the dish, but by and large I like to tweak recipes. Non-baking recipes I'll usually just make up as I go along. Baking recipes are more chemistry dependant and therefore harder to do on the fly.

Lately though, I feel like I am having to reinvent the wheel, knowing what a wheel looks like but having to make it with very limited and somewhat unsuitable materials. It's exhausting trying to do that for every dinner.

Lately I've been having PCOS flare ups, partly just because and partly because there has been some stress in my life, so I've had to switch back to a stricter low-carb/low-GI diet. This would be annoying but par for the course, if we hadn't started a gluten-free diet for DH. He's had 'stomach problems' all his life, which I have been trying to solve for the 3 years we've been married and I've been in charge of procuring his food. Gluten-free was the last on a long list of things we've tried, and so far seems to be the most successful. We'll look into having proper testing done at some point, but since he just took a new job in a new city, the timing is not right for finding a specialist in our current area.

So in short, I am facing the challenge of cooking both low-carb/low-GI (LCLGI) and gluten-free. Lots of LCLGI food is gluten-free because if you aren't using any grain-flours you aren't going to be including gluten. It's also rarely recognizable as analogous to its carb-loaded counterparts, and to a certain extent just requires recognizing that there is no substitute for pasta or bread. Gluten-free foods, of which there are TONS on the market right now all nicely labeled, are rarely LCLGI because they are made with rice starch, tapioca starch, potato starch, etc. Pretty much everything I can't eat. Thus I am faced with the choice to make two different dinners, or to try and find food that lies in the overlap that we both find palatable.

Of course, some things don't really change. Meat is gluten-free and low-carb. Vegetables, pace potatoes, ditto. But there is something so fundamental to having some kind of starchy thing, and that's mostly where the problem lies. DH can have rice, but I can't. There are both low-GI and gluten-free pastas on the market, but of course they occupy opposite ends of the spectrum. I can have rye or spelt bread in small amounts, but he can't. I can make risotto with rice for him and risotto with barley for me, but that seems absurd. The best LCLGI and gluten-free recipes feature coconut flour, which has a noticeable taste for me that I don't always want. Most of the recipes I've come up with use almond flour which is unavoidably gritty, or oat flour which is gritty and whole-wheat tasting unless you really work to hide it.

 Cookbooks are typically one or the other, and if they are both they are typically one of the crazier diet fads, like paleo. While that is the closest to what we are eating, I just can't say we are going paleo. The whole diet is based on bad or non-existent science, cheese is something I rely on, and I can't get over the absurdity whenever I see a paleo recipe call for things bananas or brussel sprouts. Those yellow bananas you get in the grocery store have existed for less than 200 years, and look nothing like a paleolithic banana. Brussel sprouts only popped into existence in the 1300s. Coconut flour also did not exist in paleolithic times.

In short, food posts are probably going to be a little less "here's a recipe I made up last week" and more musing on what works and doesn't work as I try to reformulate, replace and otherwise revamp my repertoire of foods in the coming months. A journaling of success and failures so I hopefully don't have to repeat the latter too often. Also most likely they will be shorter interludes as I work on my Basic Physics series. And if you happen to follow me on Twitter (@PhysicsGal1701), now you know what all the food posting is about.

Cheers!

What 3 years of marriage has taught me

This week my husband and I celebrated our 3rd wedding anniversary. I made a pull-out-all-the-stops dinner, and we drank champagne from our good crystal. And then we happily collapsed in our chairs to watch TV together, because life has presented us with a wonderful opportunity that will mean a good bit of change in our near future, all for the better but nonetheless exhausting.

It also lead to me to reflect on what a strange state marriage is. I would choose to marry my husband over and over again if given the choice, because for all the little ways he can annoy or infuriate me, I can't imagine sharing my life with anyone else. We are two very stubborn, argumentative people. We courted for 4 months by walking around campus and debating everything under the sun. Though I don't believe in soulmates, his existence and the fact that we, improbably, found each other is almost enough to convince me. He's a friend, a partner, a confidant and whetting stone. We've worn down the rough edges on each other, without wearing each other out.

Part of making marriage work , I've realized, is recognizing the importance of the day to day things. He makes sure to call me when he leaves work so I can time dinner correctly. I make sure to do laundry frequently so he is never out of socks. I  keep the kitchen clean and stocked, and he keeps the bathrooms clean and stocked. Grand romantic gestures are nice, but so is not having to do that chore you hate. Waking up on a Saturday morning to the sound of the bathrooms being cleaned is one of the best gifts my husband can give me.

Three years isn't long in the grand scheme of things. But having now spent 12.5% of my life married to the man whom I impressed by arguing him into silence in Philosophy 101, and who impressed me swing dancing, I hope to spend 100% of whatever years remain to me, married to him.

The Versatility of the Pound Cake

Desserts are a bit of an odd thing in our house. Dear Husband and I love them, but sporadically. We have gone weeks without eating a proper dessert. A chocolate square here and there, but nothing that could be called dessert. Partly it's because there's only two people who "don't eat very much"* so if I make a whole cake, we either get sick of it or have to throw half of it away. So I've started trying three different strategies: 1) ice cream 2) things that can be easily doled out, such as cookies 3) 1-2 person desserts.

In the last category, pound cake of all things is a shocking easy and useful base. A pound cake is defined not by a particular recipe, but particular ratio of ingredients. An equal amount by weight of eggs, butter, sugar, flour and a dash of flavoring. Which practically means any multiple of 2 oz (the weight of an egg) can be made into a cake. A two-ounce cake turns out to be the perfect amount of batter to make 2 small cakes  or a largish 1 serving cake.

And it is versatile. Besides the basic cake, which is itself delicious, you can use the batter to make caramel cakes, peach caramel cakes, upside down cakes, marble cakes, short cakes, mini trifles, pretty much any cake-based dessert. So long as you have softened butter, you can have cake in about 30 minutes.

You need more? Double it, triple it. More than a pound per ingredient, you might want to just make two batches.

Delicious versatility.



*Heard from every relative and friend who has seen us eat not at Thanksgiving

Easter Preparations

Holy Saturday has always been a kind of prep-day for me. Growing up, there was church decorating and food to be made and choir folders to organize. And that hasn't really changed now that I've grown up and married and established a household of my own, minus the church prep and add some house cleaning.

Saturday is our usual house-cleaning day anyway. Things like dishes and laundry get done as needed during the week, besides the obvious post-cooking counter cleaning. But Saturday morning is cleaning time. Dear Husband cleans the bathrooms while I make breakfast. I sweep the floors and clear away any clutter that has accumulated during the week. Any outdoor cleaning that needs to be done gets done then. Vacuuming gets done if the vacuum cleaner cooperates.

Today we did CLEANING. Dust the baseboards, scrub all the floors cleaning. The house smells like lavender and almonds.

And of course I did food preparing for tomorrow. For one, I made sure I had everything. I got a leg of lamb roast to cook for dinner, which requires nothing more than salt, pepper and some rosemary before I throw it in the oven tomorrow. The potatoes and asparagus can't really be prepped today, but they don't take much time anyway. I made deviled eggs, which are a must in my book and my only regret is that I didn't have enough forethought to make them earlier in the week and partially pickled them in pickled beet juice, which turns then a pretty purple-y pink.

The one at 11 o'clock had an abnormally large air pocket.

I even figured out how to do that cool swirly rosette thing with a piping bag!

I also finished the lamb cake. What is a lamb cake, you ask? It is a cake baked in a mold that looks like a lamb. If you are an excellent cake-pan preparer you could probably dust it with powdered sugar and serve right from the pan. But, I am not an excellent cake pan prepper, and my family traditionally has it covered with coconut icing, which is a tradition I am happy to continue.

This cake goaded me last year to learn the art of the 'crumb coat'. Instead of trying to ice it perfectly in one go, you use a thin layer of icing to stick down any crumbs (and hold on any ears that may or may not have been a little stuck to the pan), let that dry for a few minutes, and then finish icing with a thicker layer that gets to be all pretty and even and crumb-free. As a finishing touch, I coated it with coconut using the old press-and-stick method. The eyes, nose and impertinent tongue are jelly beans, and the grass is coconut tossed with some green food coloring. I serve it with strawberries, which is delicious but my sister calls 'macabre'.

Now, other than quiet contemplation, I am ready for Easter.

Have a blessed Paschal Triduum!

Meditations on Holy Week

Warning: slightly rambling

Most people who didn't grow up in the church assume that Christmas is the biggest holiday for Christians. It's certainly the most visible and drawn out, the most easily co-opted and inviting of all our holidays (and we have a lot). It's warm and fuzzy and bright at the darkest time of year. The gift portion is certainly attractive to pretty much everyone. And it looks like our name! that's convenient.

But the reality is the Christmas is, at best, the second most important holiday. Holy Week and Easter, collectively known as Passiontide, is our most important holiday. Christmas is joyous, of course, but it's a prelude, and one that is theologically tempered. If you read through the texts of Christmas hymns and carols, you'll find that some of the less-popular-on-the-radio-station verses are rather bleak (some more modern, cheerful hymnals even leave them out). Take, for example, the second verse of "What Child is this?"

Why lies he in such mean estate
where ox and ass are feeding?
Good Christians, fear: for sinners here
the silent Word is pleading.
Nails, spear shall pierce him through,
the cross be borne for me, for you;
hail, hail the Word made flesh,
the babe, the son of Mary.

The whole point of Christmas, the arrival of God-made-flesh, is so that Good Friday may take place. Good Friday is rarely a service that draws in people from the outside, even though it is as well advertised with lawn signs. Who in their right mind wants to go sit in a darkened, quiet church and contemplate on their sins, the agony of death on the cross, and the [seeming] finality of death?

Growing up, I would say that Holy Week was one of the biggest weeks of the year (I was still a kid). Partly because I grew up the child of the church organist and the person in charge of decorating the church so I was there nearly everyday starting the day before Palm Sunday to strip the palms all the way through Easter. But also because it is a compelling narrative that the Church has been telling for centuries. During Holy Week we don't just read the accounts. We re-enact them to a greater or lesser extent.

On Palm Sunday the congregation plays the part of the crowd that welcomed Jesus into Jerusalem. We cry "Hosanna!" and sing hymns set to triumphal, often marching tunes. We wave palms and the organ plays at full blast.

But we know what is coming. Monday through Wednesday are spent in solitary preparation. There might be quiet preparations for Easter morning, but they are typically kept quiet.

Maundy Thursday exhibits the greatest variation I've seen among Churches. It commemorates the last meal Jesus had with his disciples before he was arrested and condemned to death, which became for Christians the sacrament of Communion. For some its a meditative service, with quiet hymns, prayer, perhaps a short homily, and of course communion. Others include 'maundy' or the rite of foot washing, something else Jesus gave to his disciples as a ritual that got lost (probably as it moved north where socks and boots were the norm instead of sandals). The services are beautiful, but also introspective. This is not to say that visitors aren't welcomed, but for many Christians these services are deeply personal.

Good Friday is a hard day. It's a holiday, in the sense that it is holy and in the sense that most people don't have to go to work on it, but it is also hard. Hard to explain to anyone who hasn't experienced it in its full, raw power and hard to go through. Whether its the stations of the cross, mentally walking with Jesus to his death, or Tenebrae going through the entire passion narrative with the congregation playing the part of the crowd who cries "Crucify!", it is a strange day that we put ourselves through. We meditate on the idea that we killed God, that the second person of the Trinity willingly walked into Death, paying the price our sinfulness, our brokenness, so we never have to. We leave the church in silence and darkness, the Bible closed, a single candle burning on the altar.

Holy Saturday is the quietest day in the church. Everyone who has to go in to make preparations for Sunday whispers. You try to walk quietly. The lights stay dim. Even though we all know what happened that first Easter, that Jesus isn't in that tomb again, we are still quiet, as though we mourn with the apostles.

Easter sunrise services are the most joyful thing I know of, whatever the variation. The one I can describe best is the one I grew up with. You enter the church in darkness and silence, praying and waiting. The pastor comes in through a door by the altar, and proclaims "Why do you look for the living among the dead? I tell you he is not here. He is risen!" and the lights go up and the organ roars to life in one of the many Easter Hymns. The litany of "He is risen!" "He is risen indeed, Alleluia!" tumbles from everyone's lips. Our sin may have been atoned for on Good Friday, but the empty tomb gives us hope and therefore joy.

Does all this sound insane? Sure. There's a reason St. Paul wrote that the message of the cross was foolishness in the eyes of the world (I Corinthians 1:18)--it is. Most self-aware Christians know this. We know we sound crazy. (We also know some of our traditions are good theatre). And we're ok with that. We can give reasons and offer some sort of explanation. But at the core, we know its not rational. We don't believe because of a Pascal's wager. We believe because, at some point, we've had a moment at the well, an encounter in the garden, whether subtle or bolt out of the blue or anywhere in between. And we believe.

Comfort Food: Pierogies, Sausage and Peppers

Here's something you'll rarely see anywhere: I've been trying to recreate a dish from the college cafeteria for years.

And yes, I mean a dining hall, not a fancified food court like some schools have. Over cooked vegetables, lots of things deep fried or baked within  an inch of their lives. Most days the only truly edible thing in the dining hall was the pizza, unless you arrived in time for the special, which was usually pretty good, but limited in quantity.

But there was one thing that the ladies in the dining hall kitchen did really really well--pierogies, sausage and peppers. I have a few theories why, but this is one of the few dishes I really looked forward to when it popped up in the menu rotation. Puffy, golden potato and onion filled dumplings, thin strips of red bell peppers sauteed until they were soft and sweet and just barely carmelized at the ends and perfectly fried sausage. It was an island of semi-home-cooked-ness in a sea of industrial, mass-prepared food.

I have been trying to replicated this ever since I left college. The timing of it all has always eluded me. Last night, I think I got it down method-wise, and next time I think I can even make it a one-sheet-pan meal to boot!

Start with some thinly sliced bell peppers

Toss with some olive oil and spread in a (roughly) single layer on a baking sheet.

Now, if you want to do everything in the oven, take a lovely pack of sausages

Cut them in halves or quarters and put them on the tray as well. Bake at 350 until the sausages are brown, the peppers are soft and starting to caramelize at the edges.

Now, if I had thought a little more, I would have taken the sausage and peppers off the tray and just tossed on some lightly oiled frozen pierogies. As it was, I did those mostly in a skillet, which was silly. But it did lead to this amusing series of pictures by Dear Husband. 

 He didn't quite hold it still, or activate the digital compensation.

I learned that I apparently stand with my legs crossed, for no obvious reason...

 Why is this picture at a 60 degree tilt? no idea

This could be really adorable if it weren't quite so blurry.

In any event, it was delicious, and very close to what I remember. 

Over all, a great sucess!

Trying to Not become my grandmother

I am weird about my kitchen. By weird I mean, weirdly protective of it. By protective I mean possessive. Which is to say, besides myself there are about 4.5 other people on this earth I trust to use my kitchen without my right eye getting twitchy. The half is my husband, who I trust to make tea, coffee and microwave things.


The kitchen is my domain. Nearly every other room in the house includes compromises with someone else. If I am not asleep, that is where you are most likely to find me. It is my artist studio, where I create new food, improve old food.

I also know that kitchens are really common areas and to ban people from using it is weird and awkward. My grandmother never let anyone use her kitchen. Ever. My dad never even learned how to make a pot of coffee while he was growing up, and when we visited as kids we knew that we were not allowed to raid her fridge or even get ourselves a glass of water.

I don't want to be my grandmother is this regard. I really don't. I actively invite people to get themselves drinks, to help themselves to whatever food might be on the counter, and I suppress the urge to do it myself.

But it's hard. It is physically stressful for me to have most people doing  things in my kitchen. Occasionally its because they are doing something bad to my good knives, my good cutting board, or pans. More often it is for little, inconsequential things, like putting the butter in the fridge or putting something away in the wrong drawer. Easily fixable, no big deal things that send my blood pressure skyrocketing.

I know that these things are objectively no big deal. I don't say anything when we have guests over because I know it makes me look ridiculous, and I am trying not to be my grandmother.

But if someone went and rearranged your computer files, or craft box, or your toolkit, wouldn't you get twitchy?

Shrove Tuesday

Today is Shrove Tuesday. You may know it better as Mardi Gras, or "Fat Tuesday". It marks the last day in the season after Epiphany and the last day before the season of Lent. For people who are not Christian, or who do not observe the liturgical year, it's excuse to party on a Tuesday, or party all week long depending on where you live.

If you are liturgical and you do observe Lent in an actual time of reflection and repentance kind of way, not just in the I-can't-eat-this-today kind of way, Shrove Tuesday is a day to prepare both spiritually and potentially physically for Lent. The 'shrove' part of the name comes from the fact that people used to do a pre-Lent confession as part of their preparations.

For me this involved getting rid of or hiding a lot of the sweets in my house, and putting all the alcohol away. Our assistant Rector has inviting the parish to join in a kind of fast this Lent, focusing on our relationship to food and how it can help or hurt our relationship to others and to God.  The idea is to eat simply, rather than focusing on giving up specific things for specific days or trying to not eat at all.

My relationship to food is complicated. It's a hobby, a necessity, an indulgence, a comfort, a source of pride and a means of love. I'm going to be trying to use this Lent to try and weed out some of my more selfish motives around food, and try to refocus on the ways God provides for me, and on using my skills to benefit others, not just myself.

If you are planning on observing some sort of fast this Lent, whether of food, entertainment or something else, I hope it helps you draw closer to our Lord and Savior. If not, enjoy all the extra ice cream.

Homemade Mallowmars

Mallowmars, if you have never heard or tasted one, is a chocolate dipped, marshmallow-topped cookie that is about the size of a girl scout cookie, and can only be found in colder weather in many of the United States. Incidentally, there are a million variations on this cookie and no one knows who invented it.

Growing up in New Jersey, we couldn't always find them, so they were (and are) are a real treat. So when I wanted to make something nice for my mother, I thought I would make homemade mallowmars, because if I'm going to do something, I may as well do it in the most labor intensive way possible, yes? Or it's because it allows me to make cookies, candy and chocolate dip something all for one purpose.

Making these things is time consuming, but not 'difficult' in the way that making a baked alaska is difficult. It takes a lot of steps, but no one step is tricky.

Step 1: make the cookie base. I used a half batch of the "Joy of Cooking" sugar cookie dough, using an 1.5 inch cookie cutter, and it yielded a 100 bases.

You want to have extras, for testing at every step and to allow for failure (cookie cracks, flips over in the marshmallow stage, chocolate coating doesn't cover evenly). I had about a 10% loss  from start to finish, but your results may vary depending on the number of people who insist on taste testing and your ability to handle things with fingers covered in culinary superglue.

Step 2: Pipe on marshmallow. This requires some hand strength, or ingenuity. Preferably both. This is the biggest 'cookie down!' part, because if the cookie lands marshmallow side down, (as you can see happened to two in this picture) there's no hope for that one. I use Alton Brown's recipe, which has never failed me. Actually, I don't think I've ever had a recipe of his fail.

Step 3: After letting the marshmallow set for  4 hours, melt some chocolate. I like Ghiradelli 60% cacao chocolate chips, because they melt the best to give a not too thick, even coating and keep the temper the best. I melt them in a double boiler, because it yields the smoothest result.

Step 4: Dip the cookies in the chocolate, let sit overnight to set. Enjoy!

They may not be as pretty as the ones that come out of a box, but they taste a whole lot better. And totally worth the effort. 

Some days, I love my grocery store.

In general, I am happy with my grocery store. I could wish for a larger selection of meats, and occasionally fresher produce and I can certainly wish they would not store the onions right next to the potatoes. But it provides high quality, low cost store brands that make my grew-up-in-a-high-cost-of-living-area heart sing. Unbleached flour for $1.67?  Sign me up! It's not quite Meijer, where I could get everything and everything for a song, but it's darn close for groceries.

But mostly I love it because they occasionally do ridiculous sales on things I use. Like today's "Buy 2, Get 3 Free" on coffee. Yes, that is not a typo. If you buy 2 pounds of coffee, you can get 3 free. Three! We go through coffee at the rate of a pound or so a week, so this is fantastic. I'm going to measure the space in my pantry and go buy as much as I can store.

Also, Entenmann's! Growing up, their crumb cakes, apple puffs, donuts, danish and eclairs filled a sizable portion of my grandma's deep freeze at any given time, and filled a sizable portion of my stomach whenever I visited. While I have grown up to appreciate that none of these things are high cuisine, I still love them all and buy up their coffee cakes and danish (the only things we get down here) whenever they show up. And when they are 2-for-1, its irresistible.

This is why I love my grocery store.

And why I never end up walking out with just that gallon of milk I went in for.

Some days are just weird

Today has been...odd.

To start out with, my phone perished after an unfortunate swim yesterday morning, and I couldn't get to the mobile store to replace it until the afternoon, so I was temporarily communication-less. I remember a time, not too long ago, when I did not have instantaneous communication with friends and family in my pocket. It's amazing how quickly we become used to things.

There have been some teaching difficulties this semester, which I spent a chunk of the morning working out, or at least starting to work out. Five semesters of teaching and this is the first difficulty of its kind I've faced.

My research has in a sense gone well recently. I have it all in a very simple form. Too bad the simple form makes far less sense than the complicated form. Still trying to figure out what to do with that.

Went to the mobile store to get my new phone, which was no problem from the point of replacing my phone (and getting it a protective cover), but I had made the reasonable-at-the-time choice of wearing my boots. If the temperature is below 60 as it was supposed to be today, they are perfect, since my feet tend to be cold. If, however, the temperature is about 60, as it turned out to be, my feet overheat very quickly, and make me feel very queasy.

 It's a family trait, and why I don't wear socks to bed.

The store was warm, and I was standing in the sun. I ended up cutting off the very nice, helpful associate who was helping me set up my new phone because I knew I would throw up on him if I stayed a frighteningly short time longer. I told him I could finish setting it up myself, got my stuff, and high tailed it out to my car, where I opened the windows, took off my shoes and spent 15 minutes cooling down. I drove home in my stocking feet because I didn't dare put my boots back on.

My husband had a late night at work, so I am all alone in the house with Penny this evening. Which is great. Except she has a huge amount of energy, even after playing outside all afternoon with the three dogs who live on the other side of the fence. And I have no energy. I am currently trying to work up the gumption to do the dishes, because our dishwasher is older than I am and finally retired. And any evening on my own is a little strange, even though I do it on a not infrequent basis. We are a family of routine, and it messes with the routine to not have Dear Husband home around dinner time.

So here I sit, in my comfy chair, hoping tomorrow will be just a little less strange.

Comtesse au Chocolat

Yesterday, I set out to make Julia Child's "Marquis au Chocolat" cake. It looked insanely delicious, even in black and white, and everything she demonstrated seemed well within my capabilities, even if not quite as adroitly as she.

Everything was going swimmingly. I made the chocolate spongecake, safely de-panned it and cooled it without disaster. Then I listened more carefully to her instructions for the first layer of icing, and realized that I did not have NEARLY enough butter to finish the recipe. The first layer of butter cream called for half a pound alone.

So I decided to improvise, and I whipped up a batch of think ganache, at about 3.5 parts heavy cream to 5 parts semi-sweet chocolate. After it cooled and thickened a bit, I smoothed it over the cake.

It is decadent. It is delicious. It is chocolatey and satisfying in a small slice. It is shiney.

It's a single layer, which I actually think I like better than the taller cakes I'm used to. And the icing is not thick, but what it lacks in bulk it makes up for in lusciousness.

Yes, it gleams that much in real life. Over all it's kind of like a cake, a brownie, and a truffle in one package. It hits all the right notes, without being over the top like some 'death by chocolate' cakes.

This is kinda what it would look like if you can wait to cut into it.

This recipe is definitely a keeper. Since it is not quite the Marquis au Chocolat, but would certainly satisfy any woman's chocolate cravings, I'm dubbing it the Comtesse au Chocolat. It seems fitting.

Cake~Julia Child's "Marquis au Chocolat" sponge cake recipe
Icing~ 180 g heavy cream, heated to simmer and poured over 260 g semi-sweet chocolate chips. Stir until melted, cool until the consistency of thin whipped cream, and ice cake.

Enjoy!

~AMPH

Foods Falsely Feared: Souffle

There are certain foods that people will avoid making without ever having tried, or even read a recipe. Whether because it has a reputation for taking a long time to make, being particularly difficult in required technique, or just having a general air of requiring years of training to get right, people avoid making them like they will explode if done improperly.

Souffle is probably the best example of this. It is a dish that is beautiful in its simplicity, and demonstrates perfectly culinary aesthete which sits opposite to the over-the-top-must-be-huge-with-every-ingredient-possible-plus-bacon aesthete that seems popular right now. Whether savory or sweet, souffle is easy and pretty quick to make.

Cheese souffle, aka Friday's dinner

Benefits of Uber-labeling

I am loving my very organized pantry. It is easy to find things. It is easy to know when we are running out of things. 

My husband can find things when my hands are goopy. 

I was making chocolate souffles for dessert last night, because it was cold and my mother gave me a lovely set of ramekins for Christmas, and these two things seemed to call for chocolate souffle. As I started separating the eggs, I asked Dear Husband to grab me out the vanilla.  And he did. He could find it easily because it was right there in the 'extract and flavoring' section. 

Moreover, he seemed happy with this. Add this to the fact that he no longer has to look around for the cereal every morning (it was always in the same spot, but somehow a label makes it easier to find), and he seems willing to help on my organization, even helping to put up a cleaning-implement rack. 

This trend is slowly seeping outward. It is yet to be seen how well it works outside the pantry. 

Homemade Croissants

Croissants are one of life's great simple pleasures. The child of a basic bread recipe and puff pastry, they satisfy pretty much any craving you can have in one delicious package.

Growing up, we had croissants a good deal, but never homemade. They were, as far as I could tell, the one food my mother said was too much trouble to make at home. For the longest time, I took my mother's word for it. She made puff pastry several times a year for heaven sake.

But I recently have been watching episodes of Julia Child's cooking show (the old black and white one). And when I saw an episode on croissants, I figured I should at least try making them. If Julia Child could make them with the kind of pots and pans and electric stove/oven she has on the show, I could surely make them with my 21st century electric stove and high tech kitchen gear.

Christmas Cookies: Gingerbread People

Now that finals are done, and the fall semester has come to a conclusion, it's time to bake Christmas cookies!

Cookies? Do I get to lick the bowl? PLEASE?!

Every year for as long as I can remember, Christmas has involved the mass production of cookies in my family. For one thing, they are delicious tradition! For another, my mother used them as end of the year 'thank you' gifts to the various people and business we interacted with through the year. Church people, the dentist, doctors, car mechanic, if we knew them and liked them, they got a plate of at least 5 different Christmas cookies. I aim to continue the tradition.

Super Easy Chicken Cacciatore

Usually, I am a fan of making everything from scratch. Its half the fun of cooking, after all. But some nights, I get home too late, or very tired, I'm not above accepting some store-bought pantry help. Hence, this insanely easy, even my husband could make it, chicken cacciatore.

It honestly couldn't be simpler. Take boneless, skinless chicken breast (or thighs, but they take longer), and cut them into roughly 1 inch cubes. Optionally, brown them slightly in olive oil in a hot dutch oven for a minute or two. Pour on a jar of tomato sauce, cover, and let simmer 30-45 minutes. Letting it go longer won't hurt it, this is just the minimum time to let it cook so the chicken is done. Serve with hot noodles, or just a loaf of crusty bread, and parmesan.

Enjoy!

~PhysicsGal

Chicken Pot Pie

Chicken pot pie is the pot roast of the poultry world. Everyone has their own recipe, usually based on a family recipe passed on from mom or grandma. It is comforting, warm, and homey. It can be as simple or as fancy as you want. It combines all necessary elements of a meal into one delicious dish (carb, protein, vegetable, gravy). It is a special level of awesome.

My chicken pot pie is pretty basic as far as ingredients go. Chopped or shredded chicken, carrots, peas and onions in gravy, baked under a crust. However, mine strays from tradition slightly in that instead of just sauteing my onions, I let them caramelize to a deep mahogany brown.

An Orgy of Cooking

After nearly a month of being unable to really cook, first because I was down a hand and then because of the great shower disaster, I tried to make up for at least a week of it, all this weekend. I was, in fact, so busy cooking I forgot to take pictures!

It began on Friday night, after an afternoon of joyous grocery shopping. I rubbed a bone-in/skin-on split chicken breast with a dry brine* and let it sit, uncovered, in my fridge for a few hours before roasting it on a bed of stuffing with some carrots and serving with a caesar salad as a starter, and mini desserts from Whole foods for dessert (pecan tarts for Dear Husband, cheese cake drops for me. I have perfected neither). After weeks of take out and frozen dinners, it tasted like heaven, and it had a lovely presentation to boot.