Funky town

Sometimes, for no good reason, a headache will just take me down to funky town. My funky town looks like this: I can't stand odors, can't take light, don't like food, and worst of all, can't read without it hurting. The strange thing about this headache was that it wasn't triggered by anything--no stress from yelling at kids, no excess of alcohol, no insomnia to blame, just a wicked headache that resisted 1. ibuprofen 2. caffeine 3. Tylenol 4. a blissfully quiet house with kids over Granny's 5. fresh air obtained via hour long walk.

Finally I just had to lie down and give in to the damn thing. And after about two hours of that (go ahead and hate me for having the opportunity to lie down for two solid hours) headache receded enough to let me read. I have to say, the worst thing about these headaches is how damn boring they are so once I could read again, I felt a little more normal (though food and noise still don't seem like a good idea).

The hardest thing about this trip to funky town was I was in the middle of a really good book, so the borning-ness of lying there for two hours was intensified.
But once tracking words across the page didn't make me feel like a firecracker was going off behind my eyes, I was able to finish the book, An Abundance of Katherines. This is a charming YA novel with really terrific dialog between the two main characters, Colin, a former child prodigy, and his best (only) friend, Hassan. At times their banter reminded me of the scenes in the movie Knocked Up which so perfectly captured the grossness and affection of immature males--lots of references to their balls, weird nick names (including one of my favorites--sitzpinkler--a German insult for a man who sits to pee), but underneath it all, genuine caring and friendship.

I was amused by Colin's obsession with creating a mathematical formula to describe all of his past (and, he thinks, future) romantic fiascoes. And I like a good road-trip buddy story. But what really got me was the way Colin and Hassan's friendship was expressed and how they blunder around in the undefined post high school period trying to figure out who they are and what they should, could and would do with their lives. There's a little bit of preachyness at the end of the book about personal responsibility and taking care of your fellow man, but when I consider the intended audience (i.e. not me) I think it is a mighty fine idea to plant in the heads of young readers.

Brown blobules

Along with all the granola I've been churning out (I think I've made 8 batches in the past week), the puppy biscuits and the biscotti, I've also made some delicious misshapen brown blobs:
I used this cardamom truffle recipe and substituted lavender for the cardamom. Then today I made a batch with orange zest and a little triple sec. They taste great, especially the lavender ones, though I don't quite have the hang of getting them into a round shape--I tried a regular spoon, I tried a melon baller, I tried a very half-spherical tea spoon but only got a few with a reasonable curve to them. So mine are "rustic" if you are feeling nice, and "lumpy" if you aren't feeling so nice.

I also made some inedible brown blobs to accompany some inedible noodles:
My Flying Spaghetti Monster Tree Topper was calling for an offspring. It's lonely being the only deity on a tree so here you see the yarny momma (poppa?) reaching its noodles down towards its new clay ornament buddy.
The Fimo meatballs turned out much more spherical than my truffles, but then polymer clay doesn't melt in your hands when in the process of being rolled. After making truffles though, you have a fine excuse to lick your palms, which I don't recommend doing after rolling polymer clay. Keep your brown blobules straight so you don't eat the wrong ones!

Biscuits for canine and human

We've revved up the Granola Factory for our gratitude gifts to those adults who have a positive impact on my intense (code word for pain-in-the-butt) kids. The granola we gave last year was so warmly received that I decided it'll be our holiday tradition and that also means that I don't have to fret about what to give people. With the rest of the stresses in my life, going on automatic granola pilot is a welcome relief. This year we are making an apricot almond variation.

In addition to the granola, we are also making homemade dog treats. One of Ian's teachers who has been really incredible with him and made this school year a good one also trains dogs for the sport of flyball. When I mentioned to my psychologist sister that a person who can train a dog to run an obstacle course can also train my son to conform to expected standards of behavior for 7 year olds, she said that a major book of (human) behavioralism is titled Don't Shoot the Dog! I checked it out of the library and it is a testament that a positive experience in pet ownership is a good sign that you can take being a teacher or parent. Often I think maybe I should have had one more dog to practice on before being allowed to train these small humans...
We made some peanut butter biscuits this weekend and tried them out on various friends' dogs (you know, to make sure we don't kill the teacher's dogs...) and they were consumed by both picky-eater dogs and dogs who would happily eat cardboard.

There's something about making a tooth shattering biscuit for dogs that got me craving biscotti. I don't plan to shatter any of my teeth since I dunk them in my latte, but I forgot to tell Brian that dunking was a necessity so he endangered his dental health when he first tried them.

I made two batches of Almond Orange Biscotti. The first batch was based on a recipe from a friend which was a bit like this recipe and the second batch was based on this recipe (both from Joy of Baking.com). The main differences in the two recipes are how the eggs are handled and where the sugar goes. In the first recipe, the sugar goes into the dry ingredients and in the second it gets beaten for 5 minutes with the eggs. I found the second dough much easier to work with--the sugar had been dissolved into the eggs and thus the dough stuck together more easily. The first recipe tasted fine, but was a pain to form into a log and didn't cut so neatly.

Batch #2 after its first baking

and after slicing and its second baking.

Biscotti are also a welcome culinary break from all the richness of Christmas baking--there's no butter, they aren't very sweet and the copious quantity of almonds makes them a a good blood sugar stabilizer in the early afternoon when I usually start to droop.

Almond Orange Biscotti
adapted from Joy of Baking’s recipe for Pistachio Cranberry Biscotti

2/3 cup white sugar
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup, raw almonds (skins on—-not blanched) toasted and chopped coarsly
Zest of 2 oranges, about 1 1/2 T

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F and place the oven rack in the center of the oven. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Set aside.

In the bowl of your electric mixer beat the sugar and eggs on high speed until thick and pale, about 5 minutes. The mixture will form slow ribbons when you lift the beater. Beat in the vanilla extract.

In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, salt and orange zest. Add to the egg mixture and beat until combined. Fold in the chopped almonds.

Transfer the dough to your parchment lined baking sheet and form into a log, about 12 inches long and 3 1/2 inches wide. Use a dampened silicone or rubber spatula to nudge the dough into the log shape—-the dough is very sticky.

Bake for 25 minutes, or until firm to the touch. Remove from oven and let cool on a wire rack for about 10 minutes. Transfer the log to a cutting board and cut into 3/4 inch slices. Place the biscotti, cut side down, on the baking sheet. Bake 10 minutes, turn slices over, and bake for another 10 minutes or until golden brown. Remove from oven and let cool. Store in an airtight container.

Makes about 16 - 20 biscotti.


Peanut Butter Puppy Biscuits
adapted from this recipe

1/2 C Safflower oil -- no substitutes
2 Eggs
3 T Natural Peanut butter
2 C Whole wheat flour
3/4 C Unbleached white flour
1/2 C Cornmeal
1/2 C Rolled oats
Additional flour

Mix water, oil, eggs, peanut butter, and vanilla with a wire whisk. Add flours, cornmeal, and oats.
Combine with a mixer. Take one-third of the dough and place on a floured surface. Flour top of dough and gently knead, adding more flour as necessary to form a pliable dough (This will require a substantial amount of flour).

Roll out to 1/2 - 3/4 inch thickness and cut shapes using cookie cutters.

Place on an ungreased baking sheet. Bake 400 F, 20-25 minutes, depending on thickness of biscuits . Leave in oven 20 minutes after turning oven off to crisp.

What 2-buck-chuck was made for

Mulled Wine!

I'm not the biggest fan of egg nog. Once in a while a little bit of it amply fortified with whiskey tastes good, but most of the time egg nog is too rich for me. I feel like I'm drinking creme anglaise and while I like creme anglaise in its proper place (that is to say, accompanying a dessert), I don't choose it as a beverage. Mulled wine is much more my kind of holiday beverage and it also serves to scent the whole house with its spicy bouquet. The Williams Sonoma stuff is a good lazy-person's alternative to digging around in the spice cupboard to locate the appropriate items, but it is pretty darn simple to assemble your own. Some cinnamon sticks, allspice berries, cloves, ginger slices and a star anise or two if you are feeling exotic combined with the wine, some sugar and citrus peel can be combined in about 5 minutes. Some people also add brandy, but since I like to sip mugs of this stuff all day long (on the weekend--I try to stay sober when weekday responsibilities are involved) I leave the brandy out or else I'd be, as the Brits like to say, blotto.

Yesterday, while on my third (or fourth?) mug of wine I sat down and finally finished sewing this totebag as a Christmas gift for my dear sister:
On the front are three of Fiona's little alien drawings that I embroidered. From left to right they are Momo, Mi and Fomi. Mi is my favorite. And inside is a soft doty flannel lining:
I'm going to send it to her with some chocolates, nice lavender soap, orange and almond biscotti (recipe to come soon) and homemade peanut butter dog biscuits for her darling Basenji, Theo (another recipe to come soon).

Mulled wine

One bottle of cheap dry red wine
1/3 C sugar
2 T of spices--lots of whole cinnamon sticks and whole allspice, some whole cloves (not too many--those little buggers are strong), slices of fresh ginger, a star anise or two if you are feeling exotic
strips of lemon and orange peel
1/2 C of brandy (optional)

Put the spices in a large tea-ball or tie loosely in cheese cloth. Heat up the red wine, sugar, spices and peel until steaming. Let spices steep for at least 20 minutes--remove spices and peel after about an hour (it'll get really strong if you forget and leave the spices in, in which case you can dilute it down with another bottle of wine and some more sugar). If you don't plan on sipping this all day long and want it to pack more of a punch, or if you want a more intense day-long buzz, then add the brandy too.

Oh, you little tart

For me the Christmas holiday season isn't about cookies. When I was a kid we made some cut out cookies and decorated them, but they tasted like shoe leather and the eating was never as fun as the decorating. With a British mother, the Christmas flavors that dominated our house were fruit cake, Christmas pudding and mice pies. While I like the first two items, it is the last one that I am just wild about.
Right after Thanksgiving I was hit with the urge to bake mince pies but I hadn't planned ahead and didn't have any mincemeat on hand so I had to scare up the ingredients and make up a batch. Mine is meatless mincemeat--I'm sure the kind with beef suet is also tasty, but it is a damn sight easier to make the vegetarian kind and then you also won't freak out your friends when you offer them your little tarts. The mix of flavors is pretty complex: there's the dark richness from all the dried fruit and spices like cloves and nutmeg; there's the bite of citrus, both with fresh and candied peel; there's the underlying familiarity and sweetness of the apples which is offset by the sharpness of the vinegar and keeps the whole combo from being too cloying.
This mish mosh of a recipe is very loosely based on a version in the Fannie Farmer Cookbook which, incidentally, is the basic cook book out of which I learned to cook. Some people have fond memories of Better Homes and Gardens, or Joy of Cooking, but I'm a Fannie Girl (which is also pretty fun to say--Fannie Girl, Fannie Girl!) The recipe also makes a hell of a lot (though you'll need a couple of cups to go in the batter if you are making a traditional English fruitcake) and will keep forever. My mom is making her mince pies from some mincemeat that she made last year and kept in the fridge. There's a glug of brandy in it to (hic!) help preserve it and the acid from the cider vinegar also fights off nasty bacteria. I suppose you could use up a lot of it by making one massive mince pie, but I like a higher pastry to filling ratio to offset some of the intensity of the mincemeat and besides, the little tarts are so easy to grab and stuff in your mouth before anyone notices.

The pie crust I used was the Cook's Illustrated Vodka crust I mentioned before Thanksgiving. I think it is by far the easiest crust to work with--sturdier than my normal crust though still very flaky. It is the first time I've successfully used a food processor to make pie dough--all the other times I tried it turned out tough and nasty--and oh what a pleasure not to have to pick out bits of dough from around my fingernails for hours afterwards.

(Meatless) Mincemeat

1 1/4 C raisins
3/4 C golden raisins
1 C dried currents
5-6 small, or 4 large tart apples, peeled, cored and chopped small
1 navel orange, peel removed, fruit chopped small
1 lemon, including rind, chopped small
1 C candied citron
1/2 C cider vinegar
1 1/2 C dark brown sugar
1/2 C white sugar
1/2 t salt
1 t cinnamon
1 t nutmeg
1 t ground cloves
1 t vanilla
glug of brandy

Simmer everything except brandy in a big pot over low flame until well combined and the apples have softened. Take off the flame and stir in brandy (about a 1/4 cup or so). Keeps in the fridge for ages.

To make into Mincemeat tarts, take your favorite pie crust recipe and cut out large and small circles. Press large circles into muffin tins, add about 2 t of mincemeat and top with small circles. Bake until the pastry is golden (I can't remember the exact time and temp I used, but it was probably 400 degrees for about 20 minutes).

Obsessor's gift guide

Ok it is December, I am no longer in denial about the speed with which major holidays are approaching. For those of you in search of a gift for an obsessor in your life, or putting together your wish list to noodge those giving you gifts in the right direction, here are some ideas. This is stuff I'd like to receive if I didn't already have it--I don't think there is anything here over $20 and many are appropriately sized for stocking stuffing:

Kitchen:

• Good tongs--I can't tell you how many times I've been at the house of a good cook and found that they somehow survive without a pair of tongs.
• Roasted walnut oil (or hazelnut oil if you have a hazelnut freak on your hands. Me, I'm a walnut girl.) Makes the best vinaigrette dressing ever. I like the stuff from La Tourangelle and recently saw some of it hiding on a shelf at TJ Maxx of all places.
  
• Pastry cloth and rolling pin cover--for making pie crust. I love this thing. Cook's Illustrated recently disparaged it--they prefer parchment paper--but with a thorough flouring of the cloth and cover, I have never had pastry stick to it. Of course Cook's Illustrated also mentioned that they wash the covers every time they use them to which I say--Ha! You don't have to worry about rancid bits of pie dough festering away on the thing between uses if you flour it thoroughly enough that the dough never gets a chance to stick. I sometimes do give mine a shake out the back door to get rid of excess flour before I fold it back up and store it in its ziplock baggie. But wash it? Too OCD for me.
  
• Microplane zester--I've been contemplating getting a second one since I use my current one so much and sometimes have to wash it three times in an evening when lemon zest, Parmesan, and nutmeg all need to be produced. And for God's sake, get the one with the handle so your favorite cook doesn't grate off their palm.
  

Reading:

• The Hummingbird's Daughter (in paperback!)--I raved about this book here.
• The Welsh Girl--I raved about this book here.
• The Goose Girl--And this one I think I forgot to rave about, but it is for those of you who are nurturing a young reading freak. I've always liked retellings of the classics and this one takes a Grimm tale and turns it into a compelling story about a young woman who learns to define who she is, rather than let others define her.
• If your recipient can handle potentially tragic/depressing, yet really beautiful, literature as a holiday gift--some people are not so grateful to get a book that will make them cry--there is Half of a Yellow Sun and Flight.
  

Knitting/Crafting:

• A skein of Crack-silk haze is a luxury that can be used in many ways. There are 33 colors and enough yardage in one skein to make a wispy scarf, or use it to make an ethereal trim on a chunkier sweater.
  
• A subscription to Craft magazine or Interweave Knits--if you have a crafter who isn't addicted to the web then these paper magazines are pretty great. Not really so necessary for we blog addicted types...
  
• Bias tape maker--this little thingy is fun! You cut strips of fabric on the bias and feed it through this gadget and it comes out ready to iron into perfect bias tape. Now I'm trying to think of what exactly I plan to do with 10 yards of bias tape....

Writing:
For chrissake just give any writer in your life a little time. That's the only gift that I'm asking for from my Mother in Law. She has been kid-tending while I take my Friday pastry class this autumn; as I'm not taking any cooking classes next semester, I'm hoping she'll keep kid-tending while I use my Friday to write. God knows, other than this blog, this year has not been a productive one on the writing front for me.

Thanksgiving(s)

Thanksgiving dinner went pretty well--the kids ate a little of the food I made (though Ian insisted on a cheese omelet for dinner...), the crunch factor helped me enjoy the meal, and best of all we didn't burn down my parents' house or burn ourselves with the deep fried turkey:

I made him wear the face shield...and yes, our turkey was rather wee.

But rather than dwell on a meal that even at its best is never going to be my favorite, I'd rather talk about a meal that is way more my kind of Thanksgiving, namely what we ate at the latest meeting of my book group:
We got together the week before Thanksgiving to discuss The Hummingbird's Daughter by Luis Alberto Urrea and eat Mexican food. First off, the book is wonderful and I'll be sending it to British relatives for Christmas this year (since The Welsh Girl--the book I had been planning to gift--was nominated for the Booker Prize I'm pretty sure my relatives will have already read it.) Urrea has the unique ability to write about religion, mysticism, and miracles without getting the least bit pompous or excessively reverent in tone--not an easy thing to do in in a book chock full of commentary on leftist politics, class, revolution, national identity, faith, and love. It helps that the book is over 500 pages so it can pack in a hell of a lot, but the thing that struck me even more than many instances of lyrical beauty of the writer's prose, is the humor in the book. I'm having trouble remembering the last time a piece of literary fiction made me laugh out loud as much as this one did. And a lot of the humor is centered on the stupid things that men do. Urrea makes his male main characters sympathetic, flawed and hysterical at the same time and the female characters, particularly Huila, powerful, warm and cantankerous.

There is plenty to say about magical realism and history (the main character, Terisita, was a real woman and also the author's great aunt) but what struck me most about the book was the number of times that I thought we were headed to a somber scene and instead finding myself surprised by laughter. I doubt that anyone can read the letters between Terisita and the self-proclaimed "Pope of Mexico" and not crack a smile.

Enough of your blathering, Kate! Get to the food!

We started out with a large quantity of guacamole and some homemade roasted tomato salsa (adapted from Lynne Rosetto Kaspar's version) that I brought along with wonderful tortilla chips from Ann Arbor Tortilla Factory (available at both Morgan and York and Arbor Farms), and Lea brought out some (non-Mexican but really tasty) green olive and pomegranite tapenade with pita chips:Then we had some creamy-spicy butternut squash soup that Ami picked up from Prickly Pear Cafe,followed by chicken with pumpkin seed mole sauce, rice, tortillas, plantains, and salad.For dessert we had coconut sorbet, two kinds of ice cream (dulce de leche and chocolate) and pineapple with chile powder.The pineapple with chile came straight from the book--Don Tomas buys paper cones of tropical fruit sprinkled with chile a number of times--and each time I read it, I wanted to try it. And the result? Terrific! Something so simple, but really lovely. You could swank it up a little if you made a pineapple, mango, papaya salad and topped it with slivered mint and chile powder, but for ease simply cutting up a ripe pineapple and sprinkling on a little chile powder can't be beat. I highly recommend stocking the house with pineapple and chile so you can snack on it while reading the book.

Greedy

It is Thanksgiving morning, I should be rolling out pie crust, but what I really want to do is indulge a different greedy urge--reading. I have some recent evidence of my book appetite:
Yup, eight works of fiction I just received from the library. (From the top, Jim Harrison's Returning to Earth, Rudolph Delson's Maynard and Jennica, Valerie Martin's Salvation, Roddy Doyle's Paula Spencer, Ward Just's Forgetfulness, Nancy Horan's Loving Frank, Bobbie Ann Mason's Nancy Culpepper, and Jennifer Gilmore's Golden Country)

And thanks to the suggestion from Jan at Jan's Daily Dish (aka "All the latest from Heavensville..."), I have a new way to a) waste time and b) show off my library addiction on my side bar with the new widget from Library Thing. Cool isn't it? If you want to make one for your blog, go here. Thanks to the Ann Arbor District Library's wonderful web site, I can import the books I have checked out to my account to Library Thing and don't have to go the tedious route of typing in all the titles.

Of course, since I also check out all the kids' books on my card, I do have to go through the list and delete their (many) selections like Ian's latest thrilling read: The Endocrine system, the reproductive system, human development and Fiona's choice: Young naturalist's handbook. Insect-lo-pedia.

What we'll be drinking

I just got back from Arbor Farms where I was picking up the last of the ingredients for our Thanksgiving menu and, most fun of all, picking out what we'll drink:From right to left--Vruit, for the small people, Estancia 2006 Pinot Noir with dinner, and for the cheese course, a half-bottle of Chateau Beylieux 2003 Sauternes.

Arbor Farms has good deals on wine. Their selection isn't the biggest in town, but the store manager loves to talk about wine (he pointed me to the Estancia and said it was a great deal and better than some of the higher priced Pinots he carries) and they give you a 10% discount when you buy any 6 bottles.

I was going to get some tawny port for the cheese course, but then I spied the Sauternes and went for that. The first time I tasted Sauternes was when I lived in Bordeaux and was invited to dinner at one of the profs houses. A fellow lecteur, who was a non-drinker, brought along a bottle of Sauternes that someone had given him; the prof said that it was a really good Sauternes, way out of a lecteur's price range, and when it rolled across my tongue it made me think of liquid gold. Since it is cold and damp and rainy today, I was inspired to bring that bit of sunshine to our meal tomorrow. It probably won't be as glorious as that first sip years ago (especially since this is a relatively affordable bottle), but I'll embellish it with my memories.

The crunch factor

I must say, this is a very curious feeling. I am actually looking forward to Thanksgiving this year. I've bitched about the holiday in the past, but this year, for the first time, I have some agency over the holiday menu--my sweet, lovely, lousy-cook mother-in-law is out of town visiting her brother and so I get to be responsible for the meal planning. I contemplated a rather radical Thanksgiving--turkey with Vietnamese stuffing, maybe some steamed kimchi dumplings, that kind of thing. But when I proposed this to the other people who will be dining at the table that night, I saw some confused looks and not much in the way of enthusiastic cheers.

Then I thought about it a bit more and figured that some small tweaks to a more traditional menu could make the meal palatable to me, and still not rock the boat. What I dislike most about the traditional meal that my mother-in-law dishes out each year is the mush factor--pretty much everything at the table has a squishy texture (except for the turkey which, unfortunately, she cooks until it is dry...): mashed potatoes, stuffing, candied yams, canned cranberry sauce, soft rolls.

I don't care for squish.

I found that adding a little crunch back into the meal makes it one that I can look forward to. I'll still make a few mushy things for those traditionalists at the table (buttermilk mashed potatoes, stuffing, gravy), but the turkey will be deep fried (using Brian's birthday present), the hush puppies will replace the rolls, the Brussels sprouts are served tender crisp, and there will be a salad with a nice sharp vinaigrette to contrast with the richness of the rest of the meal. Also I'll reduce the sweetness factor--the cranberry relish I'll make is piquant with ginger and jalapeño, and the sweet potatoes will be smoky with Spanish paprika.

So here is our menu:

• deep fried turkey
• hush puppies (from the Blue Willow Inn cookbook)
  
• sautéed Brussels sprouts with Parmesan
• cranberry orange ginger jalapeño mint relish
• salad—spinach, romaine, blue cheese and toasted walnuts
• roasted sweet potatoes with smoked paprika
• buttermilk mashed potatoes
• stuffing (a Cook's Illustrated recipe with sausage and fresh sage)
  
• gravy
• cheese plate with port, nuts, pears and grapes
  
• sweet potato pie (I'm going to try the vodka-in-the pie-crust trick that Cook's Illustrated raved about. For a pictorial demo of the crust check out Smitten Kitchen's entry.)