Home Cooking

Home Cooking
Laurie Colwin
Perenniel (1993)
ISBN 0060975229

Home Cooking has been one of my favorites in the food-lit genre since I first read it, oh, it must be at least ten years ago now. How disappointed I was to learn that Colwin died too young, twenty years ago this fall. I'd already been thinking it was about time to re-read this book , when along it came on Cook the Books. Just the excuse I needed! And it's still a lovely book, rather like chatting with a good friend over a cup of tea in your own kitchen.

One of my kitchen goals for this year was to bake bread once a week. (Albeit a bit of strange goal for one living in France!) To this end, Santa brought me Peter Reinhardt's The Bread Baker's Apprentice, which I started reading in January, but have let fall to the wayside. For one reason or another, just about the only bread I've made this year has been the ABM kind. Running into Colwin's simple bread recipe again, which I'd marked to try the first time I read the book, inspired me to get more serious about baking bread. I thought I try both her loaf and the no-knead bread recipe that a friend gave me.

One Simple Loaf

Colwin's One Simple Loaf (p39) is derived from Elizabeth David's A Bloomer Loaf (1) in English Bread and Yeast Cookery (p280). I looked this recipe up in David's book, because Colwin has you baking the loaf first at 450F for 30 minutes and then at 425F for 20 minutes. When I first read the recipe, I corrected the second temperature to 325F, since I couldn't imagine that lowering the temperature a whole 25 degrees would make that much difference; depending on how well insulated your oven is, the temperature might not even fall to the lower temperature in that short time. David has you turning the oven down to 400F-425F, the same or slightly lower. I expect you need to bake the loaf several times to discover what works best for you.

One Simple Loaf turned out to be exactly what it says it is, a simple loaf. I used (French) type 65 (bread flour) and type 150 (whole wheat flour). I didn't add wheat germ (it's not called for in David's version), since my stash in the fridge seems to have gone a bit rancid. After I mixed the dough, I let it sit for a few minutes while I was distracted by another chore. When I returned, kneading seemed a simpler matter than it looked like it might be directly after mixing. (This makes me wonder if a little rest between mixing and kneading might be a Good Thing.) Here's the dough after the first knead, getting ready for its first rise. Note that it's floured, rather than greased.

The nice thing about this bread is that it's very easy with timing. The rises can be long or short, at your convenience. My dough sat around while I did some chores. At one point I punched it down and kneaded for a while before letting it start its second rise. After two rises, it got kneaded again and formed into an oblong loaf (David suggests 10" by 5") to rest a bit before getting popped in the oven. This isn't what I'd call a baguette shape, although Colwin does.

This baked up into a lovely oblong loaf. We found the crust a bit tough, maybe because the temperature didn't come down all that far for the second part of the baking. Nevertheless this is a very tasty bread that I'll likely make again.

No-Knead Bread

The other bread I wanted to try was one I got from a baker friend. When I did a big of research, I discovered it was Jim Lahey's now famous No-Knead Bread that was first (I think) published in the NY Times in November 2006. The same recipes can be found in many places on the web, either as originally published or slightly modified.

Since the stirred-together ingredients (including type 65 flour) need to sit under wraps for at least 12 hours, I mixed up the dough before bedtime. The dough was supposed to be shaggy and sticky. Those weren't really adjectives I'd have used to describe it, goopy would be better, but I thought I'd give it a go, since I'd measured everything pretty carefully.

When I got to the kitchen the next morning, I was greeted by a bowlful of bubbly dough, a bit thinner than it ought to have been.

This was poured onto the counter, folded after a fashion, and rested for 20 minutes. At this point, the dough was to be have been shaped into a ball and placed onto a floured tea towel. Not very ball-like was mine, more like a thick puddle. Which then rose for another two hours. Toward the end of this time, the oven and a cast iron pot were pre-heated. Then the dough got plopped into the hot pot, covered, and bake.

At the end of baking, it looked like this, a very nice-smelling frisbee sort of thing, rather than the boule that it should have been.

Not what I expected, but a very more-ish loaf, kind of like a round ciabatta, the kind of tasty bread I could easily eat up all by myself.

I'm guessing that 1-5/8 cups of water was a bit too much for my flour and my way of measuring. I found versions of this recipe that call for 1-1/2 cups. I might start even a bit lower than that and add water until something like "shaggy and sticky" occurs.

Finally ...

Neither of these loaves are going to beat the easy of tossing the ingredients into the bread machine and having a loaf ready in two hours. But both of these are nicer breads than anything that comes out of an ABM. Colwin's loaf is good to start in to morning to be baked in the afternoon. It also has a good portion of whole wheat flour, so we can feel virtuous while enjoying it. Lahey's loaf is easy to assemble the night before when you need it by lunchtime. Both are keepers.

Thanks to Deb at Kahakai Kitchen for hosting this season's Cook the Books reading/cooking adventure.

A Homemade Life

A Homemade Life Mollie Wizenberg Simon & Schuster (2010) ISBN 1416551069

Since I've been an Orangette reader off and on for several years, A Homemade Life was a fun read. It was nice to get to know Molly a bit better. And many recipe pages are adorned with stickies, so that corner of the book looks a bit like a pink hedgehog.

Family cooking. This was the most appealing part of the story for me. Molly grew up in a family where food was appreciated and cooking was done with love. Sadly her father died much too early, and the book could be considered a tribute to him, bits of memoir interspersed with recipes.

Reading the book made me think a bit more about food and cooking and what we learn from our parents. My mother was not a bad cook, but she got no joy from food, not from the cooking, not from the eating. When we were a family, we ate well enough with my mother doing most of the cooking since my father was frequently away from home. I was lucky that as kids we were exposed to all kinds of food. We knew not only Tex-Mex from Papa's home state, but all sorts of international cuisines since my father travelled as part of his work. At that time, I don't remember my father doing much cooking besides steaks on the grill and hand-cranked ice cream, but he did teach me to enjoy food. Somewhere along the line with his second family, he started cooking more seriously and when I visited in later years, I always looked forward to the food.

Thus, I was inspired by this book to cook a meal in honor of my father. I chose one recipe I thought he might have liked, one I "inherited" from him, and one he recommended. Luckily the weather held out so we could eat al fresco, and enjoy a bit of time with Papa.

We started with Moroccan Zucchini Salad. This is not to say my father was a veggie man, but I think he would have enjoyed this salad, zucchini lightly cooked with garlic, paprika, ras al hanout, and cayenne and topped with lemon juice and parsley. Fresh and tasty, this salad can be eaten warm or cold. I've made it several times this summer to help use up the garden bounty.

For a main, there was Papa's Posole, using up the hominy I cooked and froze earlier in the year. This is a recipe I got from my father, who got it from who knows where. Not one I follow to the letter, but then recipes aren't made to be followed to the letter, are they? Was it especially good this time because I finally got hold of some Mexican oregano or because it was a lovely fall evening with thoughts of my father around us?

We ended with Crème Caramel. I've always thought the crème caramel was food from heaven, and my father swore that MFK Fisher's recipe in The Cooking of Provincial France (part of the Time-Life Foods of the World Series) was the best there is. This was the first time I've tried it and I think he may be right.

Bon appetit! And thanks to Deb at Kahakai Kitchen for hosting this month's reading/cooking challenge.

Lunch in Paris

Lunch in Paris
Elizabeth Bard
Little, Brown (2010)
ISBN 031604279X

Yes, Cook the Books has come around again, and although I read this book early in April, what with one thing and the other, I'm just getting around to cooking and posting.

I must say that Lunch in Paris is not especially a book I'd have picked up on my own. In the past I've read a lot in the expat-in-France genre, but now I'm living that dream myself (after 26 years in the Netherlands) and don't feel so much the need to share vicariously in someone else's adventure. In this case, I'm a generation older and moved to France for the countryside, weather, food, prices, and lifestyle (i.e., early retirement) rather than for love. Nevertheless, we share many of the same reactions to our expat experience. I did have to laugh at the importance of having your name on a utility bill. I now keep a copy in my checkbook, in case I need to show it somewhere.

"Pardon me, sir, I couldn't help but notice; the cobblestones outside your door are older than my country." For an American (of the US type) who was once awed by sleeping in a 200-year-old log cabin in New Hampshire, living in Europe has really been an eye opener. I no longer think something 200 years old is very old. My house was built in 1900—it's a youngster. Everywhere you go, you're surrounded by history and tradition that are many, many centuries old. Paleolithic cave paintings, Roman baths, traces of Richard-the-Lionheart. Living as an expat, one soon learns that there are many more views of history than we were taught in school. Even the story of WWII more complex and even rather different from what we learned.

And, oh dear, problems with the language. Struggling with numbers at the market. I try to listen, I really do, but sometimes I just don't get it. The nice lady at our post office now shows me her calculator after she's added the total.

Bard and I even share food experiences. Fear of mayo. I grew up thinking Miracle Whip was mayonnaise, and detested all forms of the white, slimy stuff. Real mayonnaise was a revelation, although I discovered this before we ever moved to Europe. Croissants. When I first visited France at not quite 13, I loved to peel off the flaky layers of my morning croissant. (Reportedly Julia Child's recipe for croissants in Mastering the Art of French Cooking is do-able has has good results, but I haven't gathered my courage in hand for this yet.) Also on this trip I discovered the tiny fraises des bois, wild strawberries, each one an explosion of flavor. Now I have these in my garden.

For our Lunch in Paris meal, we started with Haricots Verts in Walnut Oil (Lunch, p216). I love haricots verts and the walnut oil I used is special. Every January, my commune has a soirée énoissage, an evening of walnut shelling. After several hours of shelling walnuts, we were treated to a simple dinner (onion soup, beans and pork served with dandelion greens, homemade apple tart). We had the option to purchase a liter of the walnut oil produced from our efforts, and this is what I used to make these beans. They were especially good because of our effort, of course.

Next there was Lamb Tagine with Prunes and Roasted Sweet Potatoes (Lunch, p312). Lamb, North African food, slowly cooked meat dishes, all food I love. And I love the combination of traditions in a single dish (fusion cuisine of a different sort).

I wonder about the "serves 8" part; I think 5 or 6 would be more like it. I started with about about 3 pounds of bone-in shoulder. Boning a chunk of meat like this is something the butcher can do in about 5 minutes, but takes me closer to an hour. (Not my favorite kitchen job.) I neglected to weigh the boned amount.

Since it's largely made ahead of time, this tagine would be an ideal party dish. I suspect you could prep everything the day before and just assemble and pop in the oven before you're planning to serve. As suggested, I served this with couscous, topped with raisins and cinnamon. Very yummy it all was.

And for dessert, a very French choice at this season when our tree is over-flowing with cherries, and one of my favorite meal closers (and occasional breakfast), clafoutis de cesises (Petit, p898, with technique and inspiration from other sources). Here it is fresh from the oven.

Altogether, this project was more fun than I initially expected. Now I've got another book with lots of stickies still to cook. And several links to "real" French cookbooks to help me build my collection in that area.

Thanks to Jo at Food Junkie Not Junk Food for hosting this book challenge!

An Embarrassment of Mangoes

An Embarrassment of Mangoes
Ann Vanderhoof
Bantam (2005)
ISBN 0553815555

Look over on the right and you'll see the Cook the Books logo has been added to my CookAlong groups. I really needed another cooking group, didn't I? But this one sounds like it's just up my alley, so I really had to join in. Every two months we read a food-related book (I do that already) and cook a meal inspired by the book (not often, but it's a nice idea). This time, I somehow mis-remembered the deadline, so I'm too late posting, but I'd already planned the meal, and was looking forward to it, so here I am anyhow. Next time I'll do better I hope.

The assignment for February and March was An Embarrassment of Mangoes, wherein the author, Ann, and her partner, Steve, planned and executed and two-year sailing trip from Toronto to the Caribbean. When they started out, Ann is not really a sailor. By the end of their trip, she has become both experienced and confident. They spent their time island-hopping and cooking some of the delicious island food on board. (I must say I sometimes wondered how she equipped her tiny shipboard kitchen. Which gadgets and appliances did she consider worth the space they took up?)

Inspired by all this? Well, I must say I was inspired to try conch, in spite of the mess of preparation, but that will have to wait until I actually find some. Meanwhile, I went for something easier to find and a bit less involved. To stimulate further inspiration, I turned to The Cooking of the Caribbean Islands, part of my old Time-Life Foods of the World series.

One of the characters Ann and Steve met on their trip was Edward Hamilton, the self-styled Minister of Rum. In his honor, we started with Rum Punch (TLCarib, p129) accompanied by Accras—Saltfish Fritters (Embarrass, p300).

We've enjoyed the accras that our English-Jamaican friend serves at her restaurant for Jamaican Night, so it was fun to try these at home. They're quite easy to make and make very good finger food. (Some of them didn't seem to be quite done all the way through, so next time, I think I'll make smaller balls off a teaspoon, rather than bigger ones off a tablespoon.) I did like that these accras have a bit of vegetable matter in them, onion, celery, bell pepper); following Yvonne's advice, I also added a bit of finely chopped chili to liven them up.

For the main course, I considered the roti with chicken curry given in Embarrassment. When we lived in The Netherlands, Surinamese roti with chicken curry was a take-away favorite. But that seemed like more work than I wanted to do today, and there were shrimp in the freezer wanting to be used, so I made some very yummy Trinidadian Shrimp Curry (TLCarib, p23).

The rum theme continued with our dessert. There was Bolo di Rom—Rum Cake (TLCarib, p109). This is a cake that's traditionally served unfrosted (according to the book), but sometime served with a coconut-cream sauce. I served it with the last bit of ice milk that I made recently.

Our Caribbean meal adventure brought a bit of sunshine to an otherwise gray and drippy spring day. And thanks go to Deb for hosting this adventure!