Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Another thing with topping

When I'm making dinner at home, my daughter invariably gets right to the point. "Is there gonna be topping for dessert?"*

Fortunately for her, more often than not, there is**.



Fruit Cobbler Bars  
Courtesy of Joy the Baker, except I made it so the topping/fruit ratio skews just a bit more towards the topping.

Crust and Topping
4 c. all purpose flour
2 c. sugar
1/2 tsp. salt
zest of 1 large lemon
2 c. chilled butter, cut into cubes

Fruit Filling
4 large eggs
2 c. sugar
1 c. sour cream
3/4 c. all purpose flour
1/2 tsp. almond extract (optional - leave out if anyone has nut allergies)
pinch of salt
6-7 cups of fresh berries, cut peaches, nectarines plums or other tangy stone fruit, or whatever combination you like

Preheat the oven to 350.  Grease a large sheet pan (12x17 or 10x15 for thicker bars) lightly with cooking spray or butter and set aside.

Make the crust.  Using a mixer or a food processor, combine the flour, sugar, salt and lemon zest, then add the butter.  Pulse or beat until the mixture comes together and resembles very moist crumbs, or even cookie dough.    Reserve 2 cups for topping.

Press remaining dough into the pan, forming one even layer.   Bake for 12-15 minutes, or until light golden brown.  Let cool for 10 minutes while you make the filling.

Whisk the eggs, sugar, sour cream, flour, extract (if using), and salt in a large bowl.   Gently fold in the fruit.

Spoon the mixture evenly over the crust.  You may have to move the fruit around a little to make sure it's fairly distributed.

Crumble or sprinkle the reserved topping mixture over the filling.  Bake for 45 minutes, or until the top is lightly browned.  Cool 1 hour before cutting into bars and serving, with our without vanilla ice cream.  I say with.

Click to print this recipe!

* What she really means is, "Will there be something with topping for dessert so I can eat the raw topping while you are making it, and also pick off all the cooked topping and just eat that part of the dessert after you bake it?"


** If you don't believe me, click dessert and just see how many options you have to make something with topping for dinner tonight.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

I didn't want to laugh, but I did. A lot.

My son sent me this link today.



Via email, of course. Not on facebook.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Test Kitchen: Results are Positive

The much buzzed about Test Kitchen is the brainchild of people I don't know, but I wish I did because they are clearly clever, interesting and love to drink cocktails.   Besides promoting great chefs and excellent food, this is a genius way to pack a room in an economy where significantly less transient eateries are dropping like flies.  In a nutshell, it's a place where chefs can come and give prospective menus a "test run" with a live, paying, enthusiastic audience of foodies.  And serve them really good alcohol to go with it.  The price, for the dining experience you get, is a total steal. 

The arrival of friends from up North, and the menu I saw on the website for Saturday night, gave me the kick in the butt that I needed to stop reading about this place and actually go.    Wouldn't you have done the same?

OCTOBER 16th Menu by Ricardo Zarate

7 course individually plated menu, fifty five dollars/ Bar bites/cocktails $12/wine pairing for $35, or by the glass or $20 corkage
  1. Abreboca| Purple corn bread, foie gras, aji amarillo marmalade, figs compote
  2. Sopa de Rocoto| Peruvian red pepper soup, queso fresco sauce, croutons
  3. Causa de Salmon Ahumado| Smoked salmon causa, aji amarillo yogurt, crispy quinoa
  4. Tiradito de Pejerrey| Peruvian King Fish Carpaccio , garlic, ginger lemon sauce
  5. Anticucho de Pulpo|Grilled Octopus, roasted potatoes, tofu jalapeno chili sauce
  6. Asado de Costilla| Lamb ribs, huancaina sauce, peruvian risotto
  7. Picarones| Sweet potato and pumpkin donuts with chancaca sauce and vanilla ice cream
BAR BITES
  1. Santa Barbara Spot Prawns with Yuzu Kosho $12
  2. Chicharron. Crispy Pork Belly, Feta Cheese Sauce, Sarsa $7
  3. Anticucho de Corazon, Rocotto sauce $6
  4. Ceviche Shot. Uni, Scallop, Pisco, Leche de Tigre $4
The place was dark, not yet packed, and before we could even consider the food we got kind of mesmerized by the cocktail menu.


The night's mixologists, Julian Cox of Rivera, and Dave Fernie, of Library Bar, were having a lot fun.  One of everything was not advisable, considering three of us were going with the seven wine pairings.  After stumping our earnest server* with a question about the exact nature of the cachaca in the Banana Reviver , we ordered one of those anyway, along with something featuring "apple air" and two "tester cocktails", where we named our spirit (my husband and I both chose gin) and our flavor profile (me citrus and mint, him aromatics), and the barkeeps worked their magic.

Bar bites?  But of course.  Two chicharrons, two ceviche shots.   And the works for dinner.  After being assured that our cocktails and bar snacks would be out first, we settled back to catch up with our friends.

About 2 minutes later, a beautiful plate of dark purple cornbread balls shows up, along with our first wine pairing.   Hmm.  How about that cocktail hour?  Or that cocktail 10 minutes?

"Oh, sorry about that.  Once we have you seated, the kitchen starts.   We'll bring your bar items as they're ready."

Alrighty then.  We'll go with the flow.   I bite into the piping hot cornbread, and am less than ecstatic.  It's dry as a bone, to the point of being unpleasant.  I smear it with the foie gras, plated to resemble a pat of butter, and dab on some of the fig compote "jam".   I get it, but I don't like it.   Anyone else loving this?

"The fig stuff is good", says Bob, putting his down.

Exactly.

Another waiter appears, bearing bowls of soup.  We have barely touched the first course.   More wine follows promptly.  We each now have soup bowls, two wine glasses, and a big plate of dark purple balls each.   I glare, just a little, at our server.

He flinches.

"The soup is meant to be enjoyed with the bread.  We're really not trying to rush you, I promise."

If this is not rushing us, it sure feels like it, as we are now chugging both white wines to catch up.  Which is a shame, because they are delicious.

As is the soup!  Somehow it's both fresh and rich at the same time, with a nice zing of heat from the peppers and a crisp chorizo crostini, salty and smoky, floating in the middle.   It does not need to be eaten with the cornbread at all.  Forget the cornbread!  Go soup!

Things really start to look up as cocktail hour finally arrives.  The drinks are nothing short of spectacular.   The Banana Reviver is about as far away from a cloying Caribbean colada as you can get.  My husband takes one sip of my concoction and declares, "That is your perfect drink."  His martini is smooth, crisp, fragrant, and a delight to sip.   And that apple thing is beyond tasty.  We have gone from put out to blissed out in the space of mere moments.

The bar bites seal the deal.   The ceviche "shot" is a plump fresh scallop and a bit of uni on curly stick, immersed in a cool and complex spicy lime and coconut broth.  The presentation is gorgeous.


The chicharron, on the other hand, is rustic and hearty and messy.  It is also an incredible dish.  A slab of crusty bread holds a meltingly tender-crisp hunk of pork belly, smothered in a tangy salsa of red onions, tomatoes, cilantro and lime juice, with a creamy smooth sauce of feta cheese in there somehow balancing the whole thing perfectly.

"If I died right now, I would be a happy girl," says Betsy.
"Mmph.  Me oo!" I agree.  I then unfairly guilt my husband into giving me part of his half.   If I died now, I would definitely go to hell.

We seem to be back on track, timing-wise, as we actually finish this round before the next arrives.  It is the smoked salmon, lovely to look at, and nicely done, particularly the melt-in-your mouth smoked fish and crunchy bits of crisp quinoa.  But that chicharron was a tough act to follow.  I'm also not a huge fan of cold mashed potatoes, although these are silky, seasoned well, and set off the real stars of the dish.

The advertised kingfish for course #4 became ahi on the printed menu, and then Spanish mackerel by the time the plates arrived at the table, but who cares?  Not us.  This was another out-of-the-park winner, right up there with the top sushi places in town, but with a definite Peruvian spin.  The fish went down literally like butter, with crispy garlic chips, a ginger sauce and some kind of cream drizzle combining with the fresh herb salad on top to have me closing my eyes as I ate, the better to savor every bite.


I didn't know how things could get much better, until the octopus proved me wrong.  It must have been grilled over some of the most aromatic wood on the planet to get the deep smoky flavor so entrenched into the meat.   It was cooked just enough so all traces of chewiness vanished, and the feel was almost like a tender fish or steak.    The rustic smashed roasted potatoes underneath added just the right hint of salt and earthiness, and both were transformed by the bright green jalapeno tofu sauce running down over the top.   Genius!


The lamb suffered much the same fate as the smoked salmon, paling by comparison to the dish that came before.  It was top notch comfort food, but none of us were blown away.

You would think we would be bursting at the seams, but the portions are just right, and we definitely have room for the dessert we've all been waiting for.   DONUTS! 


That's right. Donuts.  Rich, spicy, hot from the fryer, sweet potato donuts, dusted with cinnamon sugar (Wake up, Winchells!!), served with a scoop of delicious creamy vanilla ice cream that rivals even my dear friend Darryl's.  Yes there was a dusting of cocoa powder on the plate and some cunningly piled up pomegranate seeds, but...c'mon.  It's the donuts we cared about.  And licked our fingers clean after.

Dinner done, the staff indulged me and my camera with access to take these pictures as the food was coming out of the kitchen***.    Alex Reznik (of Top Chef and Cafe Was fame), was lending a hand that night.

But the man behind this incredible meal was Ricardo Zarate, owner of Mo-chica****, and soon to be proprietor of a permanent restaurant upstairs from Test Kitchen.


Pictured here in the red baseball hat, if he's turning out food like this, we will be regulars there from day one.  After all, he passed this test with flying colors!


To see some truly stunning photos of this meal, and the cocktails I drank to fast to take pictures of, visit the Kevin Eats blog.  He's also way better than I was at getting all the ingredients just right.

* "Well, that's a good one.  I don't know what that is.  They just told us everything about the food and wine for tonight, but I know nothing about the cocktails."
** I have subsequently discovered it is a fermented sugar cane liquor from Brazil.
*** Our table was far too dark for photos, and I'm just not ready to be one of those people taking flash photos at the dinner table, or anywhere else in a restaurant at night.
**** An official "on the list" selection of the Foodie Girls, by the way.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Mom, can you come?

I open the email, and immediately yell down the hall to my son. 

Me:  Honey?

He yells back.

Him:  Yeah?

The conversation continues at top volume.

Me:  Did you know about this pizza lunch on Friday?
Him:  Yeah.
Me:  Are you going?  It sounds like a really nice idea.  You should go!
Him:  I'm going to ask my friends and see if anyone else is going.
Me:  What kind of answer is that?  Either you're going or you're not going.
Him:  Right.  Either I'm going or I'm not going.   That's the answer.

The day before the pizza lunch, I risk another inquiry.

Me:  So, do you need lunch money tomorrow, or are you having free pizza?
Him:  I'm having pizza.
Me:  Great!  Good for you!
Him:  Mom, give it a rest, OK?

The pizza lunch is sponsored by his school's mentoring group for African American boys in the junior high and high school.   This will be a kick-off get together for the kids to meet the staff and each other, and make plans for upcoming events.

My son walks in with his friends and one of the other kids says, "Dude, you're black?"

But wait.  There's more.   Their first outing?

A father-son trip to a UCLA football game.

The morning of the game, my husband comes into our room fuming. 
Him:  I don't know what's wrong with that kid.  Now he says he doesn't want to go.
Me:  I'll go talk to him.

I walk down the hall and find my son under a blanket on the couch.

Me:  Honey, what's wrong?  Dad says you don't want to go to the game.
Him:  I'm tired.
Me:  Is it because Daddy's white and you think it'll be weird for you?
He doesn't answer, but then looks up at me.
Him:  Mom, can you come?
Me:  No, I can't.  It is a father-son outing.  That means fathers, as in Daddy, and sons, as in you.  Besides, if you think it'll be weird for you, think about Daddy!

He grins.  Clearly this had not occurred to him.
Me:  And you don't see him hiding under a blanket.  He's in the shower right now getting ready.  So move it!

He does. They go.  Nobody says, "Dude, your son is black?" to my husband**, and everyone has a great afternoon.

I did offer to drive on the next outing though, just to be on the safe side.

* Or so I heard from another parent, because my son would rather die than tell me anything directly.
** In fact, he bonds completely with the other dads over their mutual dislike at having to eat McDonald's for breakfast. 

Sunday, October 10, 2010

The universal symbol

After our daughter was born, we moved down from the hipster Hollywood Hills to very suburban Sherman Oaks.  One of the upsides (aside from the flat yard and sidewalks), was having a great little French bistro around the corner, as opposed to a deadly rattlesnake-infested canyon.   We quickly grew addicted to putting the kids to bed, leaving my mom with the TV remote and the cat on the couch, and walking to dinner.    The owner would be outside in suspenders and shirtsleeves, arguing in French with his wife (who was smoking like a chimney).   The place would be almost empty, as we inevitably arrived just before closing time.   There would be a great show of selecting a table from amongst the many available.    Bread, fresh butter, and yummy little containers of hummus and bright red eggplant spread appeared.   Then there would further be a show of presenting us with menus, although by the second or third visit this was a joke.

Him:  Am I getting the chicken, and you're getting the peppercorn steak?
Me:  No, I think it's my turn for the chicken.  But I kinda feel like steak.
Him:  Mmm.  I forgot about the lamb chops with that mustard sauce.
Me:  Maybe I should get the onion soup?
Our Waiter*:  Yes?
Us:  Two peppercorn steaks.  With fries.

After polishing off every last drop of sauce, we'd be swirling the last of the wine in our glasses when our waiter materialized at the table.

Our Waiter:  Will you be having any dessert tonight?** 
Us:  Yes, I believe we will.

My husband wordlessly gives him...


...the Universal Symbol for Chocolate Pot de Creme.

Our Waiter:  Very good.  I'll bring it right out.  
We toast each other, again without saying a thing, and smile.

Which is, of course...the Universal Symbol for Life is Good.

Chocolate Pot de Creme with Kahlua Whipped Cream
A mash up of recipes from two of my favorite sweet treat books, Ready for Dessert and Tartine

8 oz. semi sweet or bittersweet chocolate, chopped
1 tsp. instant espresso power
1 tsp. vanilla extract
2 c. heavy cream
3/4 c. half and half
3 Tbs. sugar
pinch of salt
8 large egg yolks

Preheat oven to 350.   You will need 8 ramekins that each hold 3/4 c of liquid.  Choose a baking dish or roasting pan that can hold all the ramekins without touching, and deep enough to hold water that will reach 3/4s of the way up the sides of the ramekins once they are added.  In fact, go ahead and put them in, add water, and test it out.   Then, take out the custard cups and put the pan into the oven while it is heating.

Melt the chocolate by placing it in a stainless steel bowl fitted over a pot of simmering water.   Heat, stirring occasionally, until the chocolate melts and is nice and smooth.   Remove it from the heat, and stir in the espresso powder and the vanilla.

Meanwhile, in a small saucepan, combine the cream, half and half, sugar, and salt, and cook over medium heat until just under a boil (you will see tiny bubbles at the edges of the pot).    In a large mixing bowl, whisk the egg yolks until they are well blended and light yellow.  Yes, I know you have three things going at once, but really, it's fine.   When the cream mixture is ready, slowly pour it into the chocolate mixture, whisking to combine.   Now, slowly add the chocolate/cream mixture into the egg yolks, whisking all the time.     Pour the final mixture through a fine mesh sieve into a pitcher or large measuring cup.  You should have about 1 quart, or 4 cups.

Line up the ramekins on the counter and pour the mixture in, dividing evenly.   Pull out the oven rack containing the water bath/roasting pan, and place the ramekins in carefully.   Add more water, if needed, to bring the bath 3/4s of the way up the sides of the custards.

Bake for 20-25 minutes.   To test for doneness, jiggle one of the molds.   The center should be just a bit wobbly, but the edges should be set.   Remove the pan from the oven, and take the custards out of the water bath to cool on a wire rack.   They will continue to cook as they cool.   Serve warm or cool with fresh Kahlua whipped cream.


Kahlua Whipped Cream

1 c. heavy whipping cream, cold
2 Tbs. powdered sugar
2 tsp.  Kahlua liquor

Using chilled beaters and a chilled metal mixing bowl, whip the cream until soft peaks form.  Add sugar and Kahlua, and continue beating just until combined.

*  He truly became "our waiter".  When a new restaurant opened up across the street, we went in one night and found him at our table, pad in hand.   Turned out he worked at the French place three days a week, and this new place the rest of the time.   How handy was that for us?
** As if he didn't already know the answer!

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Bread and Butter

Take a loaf of French bread.  Split it in half.


Spread one entire stick of softened butter on one half.  Spread another entire stick of softened butter on the other half.


Put the bread on a baking sheet.    It does not need garlic.  It does not need cheese.  It does not need salt or pepper or anything else.   Why?  Because it has A CUP OF BUTTER on it and the oven will be doing some magic to it shortly.

Bake at 350 for 10 minutes, so butter is melted and soaking deep into the bread.  Then raise heat to broil, move bread to top rack, and broil for 3-4 minutes, until it is caramelized and deep brown and crusty on top.  Seriously, it's gotta be almost, but not quite, burnt.


Cut into slices and serve.  Regardless of whether you are crying tears of joy over how delectable this is or weeping because your heart has stopped and you need medical assistance,  don't thank me*.  Thank Ree**.   

* Or blame me, whichever.
** The famous "Pioneer Woman" who lives on a ranch somewhere out west, roping steers, cooking up a storm, taking stunning photos, home schooling her kids, and sharing her adventures with the world on one of the more successful and fun-to-read blogs out there.   And, irritatingly, she seems very nice and is also gorgeous.   Like she never actually ATE this bread.  Unlike me, who has made it two nights in a row now and had thirds both times.   Thank you, Ree.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

What I learned in the sixth grade curriculum meeting

1.  The kids will be learning critical thinking skills and how to solve problems independently.
2.  There will be several field trips and a kung fu instructor coming to visit.
3.  People like chocolate cookies.


Deep Dark Chocolate Cookies
Adapted from a recipe in Bon Appetit*

1 1/2 c. good quality semi-sweet or bittersweet chocolate chips**, divided
3 large egg whites, room temperature
2 1/2 c. powdered sugar, divided
1/2 c. unsweetened cocoa powder
1 Tbs. cornstarch
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. vanilla
1/2 tsp. almond extract

Preheat oven to 400.

Melt 1 cup of the chocolate chips in a small glass bowl in your microwave by zapping on 50% power for about 3-4 minutes, stirring every minute or so.  When completely melted and smooth, set aside to cool slightly.

Using an electric mixer, beat egg whites in a large bowl until soft peaks form.  Gradually beat in 1 cup of the powdered sugar, until the mixture looks like soft marshmallow cream.    Whisk another 1 cup of powdered sugar, the cocoa, cornstarch, and salt together in a medium bowl to blend.  On low speed, blend these dry ingredients into the egg white mixture.   Stir in the melted chocolate, the extracts, and the remaining 1/2 c. chocolate chips.  The dough will be stiff but still quite sticky.

Place the last 1/2 c. of powdered sugar in a small shallow bowl.  Using teaspoons, drop dough by spoonfuls into the sugar, and roll around gently to coat.   Place on parchment or silpat covered baking sheet about 2 inches apart.   Bake until puffed and tops crack, about 10 minutes.   Cool on the baking sheets for about 10 minutes, (cookies will flatten as they cool) then transfer to baking rack to cool completely.


Can be stored in an airtight container for several days, or gobbled up by a group of parents at a school meeting in 10 minutes.

Click to print this recipe!

* That clipping project is paying dividends already!!
** I used See's, which are wonderful

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