Chicken-Andouille Gumbo and Bread Pudding

Well if I had pralines for breakfast, I suppose it’s a sign that I’m returning to good health (or rather, evidence that indeed I do share genetic material with the estimable lifelong confectioneer, Ruth Broomfield.) Between Whiplash and Birdman, jazz featured prominently this year at the Academy Awards, and something about jazz gets me in a Southern mood. For our annual Awards fest, I prepared a bayou table of gumbo and bread pudding. Friends who recently returned from NOLA brought king cake and hurricanes and pralines. And yes, I do know what it means to miss New Orleans. Especially now when the thermometer refuses to climb into the positive digits.

Painted a renewable Academy Awards scoreboard for parties to come– I think this was our sixth annual. Best costume, among our party guests, went to Bill Van Vugt, former engineer, who dressed as Alan Turing with a slide rule (and a pocket slide rule!) and a badge that said, “You need me more than I need you.” Brilliant!

By the way, best thing in parties since plastic utensils: Chalk board party hats! You can design your own decal! And, no chalk involved, you just scratch on the hat and color appears. Magic.

For the party, I considered taking down the Christmas card clotheslines I’ve had up since the holidays, but I chose to leave them on the walls for the time being; these cards, as totems of the love that supports us around the world, factor into the perception of warmth required to survive this winter. The faces and the words of family members, near and far, more than constitutes a hearth in our home that has no fire place. We’re burning with love over here.

Chicken-Andouille Gumbo

Adapted from Bon Appetit

Serves 12

Stock

1 3½–4-lb. chicken

1 large onion, peeled, quartered

2 large carrots, peeled, coarsely chopped

2 celery stalks, coarsely chopped

2 tablespoons black peppercorns

1 tablespoon dried basil

1 tablespoon dried oregano

Gumbo

½ cup olive oil

1 pound andouille sausage, sliced ¼” thick

½ cup all-purpose flour

1 large onion, finely chopped

1 large green bell pepper, finely chopped

4 celery stalks, finely chopped

8 garlic cloves, finely chopped

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 tsp thyme

2 bay leaves

2 tablespoons Louisiana hot sauce

Cooked brown rice and sliced scallions (for serving)

Stock

Bring chicken, onion, carrots, celery, peppercorns, basil, oregano, and 12 cups water to a boil in a large stockpot. Reduce heat, partially cover, and simmer, skimming surface as needed, until meat is falling off the bone, about 1 hour.

Transfer chicken to a cutting board. Let cool slightly, then remove meat from bones and shred into bite-size pieces; discard skin and bones.

Strain stock through a fine-mesh sieve into a clean pot (or airtight container if not using right away); discard solids. You should have about 12 cups.

Do Ahead: Stock can be made 2 days ahead. Let cool, then cover and chill, or freeze up to 3 months. Let meat cool; tightly wrap and chill.

Gumbo

Heat oil in a large Dutch oven or other heavy pot over medium-high. Cook sausage, stirring occasionally, until beginning to brown, about 4 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer sausage to a plate.

Whisk flour into oil in pot and cook, whisking constantly, until roux is the color of a brown paper bag and smells nutty, about 4 minutes. This step is the KEY. Take care with making sure your roux is slowly developed. Roux can make or break a gumbo. If you mess it up, get some file powder and add that to thicken the broth.

Add onion, bell pepper, celery, and garlic to roux; season with salt and pepper. Cook, stirring often, until vegetables begin to soften, about 5 minutes.

Add stock, chicken, sausage, thyme sprigs, and bay leaves to pot. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer until liquid is slightly thickened and vegetables are soft, about 1 hour. As sometimes happens, I forget to take a picture of the food I made, especially in the chaos of party settings, and all the gumbo was eaten before I could photograph it– but gumbo isn’t very photogenic anyway. All that to say, I only captured the gumbo in teh broth stage:

Add hot sauce to gumbo, season with salt and pepper, and simmer 30 minutes to let flavors meld; discard bay leaves.

Serve gumbo over rice topped with scallions.

To make bread pudding, first you need BREAD! I like to use my basic Country Tartine.

Bread Pudding

Adapted from Penzeys, for the record, this isn’t my favorite bread pudding I’ve ever made, but it was okay.

2 loaves day-old French bread

1/4 Cup butter

5 eggs

3 TB. cinnamon

2 Cups dark brown sugar

1/2 Cup sugar

1/4 Cup maple syrup

3 TB. vanilla

3 Cups milk

Hard Sauce:

1/2 Cup (1 stick) butter

1 Cup dark brown sugar

1/4 Cup bourbon

1 egg

The night before you are going to make the bread pudding, tear the loaves of bread into pieces. Place them in a large pan and place them under the broiler on low to brown. Stir a few times and watch so they don’t get too brown.

The following day, remove the bread pieces to a very large bowl. You can use the same pan you used to brown the bread for the bread pudding. Grease the pan (Tara uses cooking spray). Cut your butter into pieces and place in the bottom of the pan. Place the bread pieces on top. In a medium bowl, beat the eggs with the cinnamon, brown and regular sugars. Add the syrup, vanilla and milk and mix well. Pour the mixture over the bread and let soak for at least 1 hour, gently using a spoon to press the liquid into the bread periodically. Bake at 350° for 30-45 minutes, until golden brown. Remove from the oven and poke all over with a fork so the sauce can sink into the pudding.

For the Hard Sauce: Melt the butter in a heavy saucepan over low heat. In a small bowl, whisk the egg. Add the sugar and whiskey to the butter. Once the sugar has dissolved, slowly temper the egg into the sauce. Do this by drizzling 1 TB. of the liquid over the egg and whisking/stirring to combine. Once you’ve done this 4 times, slowly pour the mix back into the pot, stirring continuously. This keeps the egg from getting too hot too quickly and scrambling. Pour over the bread pudding and serve. You can also pour half over and serve the other half on the side.

Meh. It was okay. But the gumbo was sublime— will make that again and again and again.

Haiku #52 (Feb 21)

But health is enjoyed

In the ignorance that you

Will lose it, said Greer.

Haiku #53 (Feb 22)

The bulldog slept through

The Awards, smug after she

Reddened our carpet.

Cabin Fever Pumpkin Swirl Cake

Winter in Minnesota reminds me of the evil oogly stare of Kaa in Jungle Book.

But instead of a boa constrictor’s body, it is a scarf and mad bomber hat and down jacket that strangles me. Snow flurries induce the dizzying trance that has me zombie-walking to and from my car, never outside, never free, never warm. I want to throw a knot in the tail of winter, slap the hypnosis out of everyone in town, and slow down the slithering. The chickens are with me. Izzy, unfortunately, has again fallen asleep, but if you could pry an eye of hers open, it would look like this cake I made:

Cabin Fever Pumpkin Swirl Cake

Adapted from Penzeys Spices

Cake:

3 eggs

2/3-1 Cup canned pure pumpkin (not pie filling)

1 Cup sugar

1 tsp. lemon juice

¾-1 Cup flour (depending on how watery your pumpkin is… mine was pretty watery because it has been frozen from the pumpkins this fall, so I used at least 1 cup)

1 tsp. baking powder

1 tsp pumpkin pie spices (any blend, mine is the generic Target brand)

2 tsp. cinnamon

1/2 tsp. salt

optional powdered sugar for dusting

Swirl filling:

1 8-oz. pkg. cream cheese

4 TB. butter (1/2 stick), softened

1 tsp. vanilla

1 Cup powdered sugar, sifted

Preheat oven to 375°. Line a rimmed cookie sheet or jellyroll pan with waxed paper or parchment paper, greased with butter. In a large bowl, beat the eggs on high for 5 minutes. Add the pumpkin, sugar, lemon juice, flour, baking powder, cinnamon and salt and mix well. Spread the batter on the cookie sheet.

It will be very thin. Bake at 375° on the top rack for 15 minutes. Remove from the oven and let stand for 10 minutes. Generously sprinkle powdered sugar on a clean tea towel. Gently flip the cake out onto the towel.

Don’t worry if the paper comes with it, just gently peel it off, sprinkle some more powdered sugar on it so it won’t stick to the towel, and then roll the cake up in the towel from the long side and let cool completely.

To prepare the filling, beat together the cream cheese, butter and vanilla. Gradually add the powdered sugar and mix well. Carefully unroll the cooled cake and spread with the filling.

Roll again, cover, and keep in the refrigerator. Slice when fully chilled into 12-16 pieces. Fight swirls with swirls. Flurry with flurry. This post is featured at Sourdough Surprises, www.sourdoughsurprises.blogspot.com.

Haiku #50 (Feb 19)

A wise woman said

To throw myself into my

Own life. Bombs away.

Haiku #51 (Feb 20)

The real work is in

The sore spots, said the masseuse.

Pain fears loving touch.

Asian Pork Meatballs for Year of the Sheep

I am mad at biology—this, my ruminative thought while stuck with the flu on the couch under three blankets, swaddled in my leopard fleece robe and topped with a rabbit pelt-lined hat. Nothing hurries a common virus, it comes and goes as it must. I can only flush it again and again with fluids; how sick I am of lemon flavored Gatorade! I somewhat blame the outdoors, as each time I let Izzy out, when the wind whips my face, my headache throbs even harder and I feel as though this flu is winter’s way of sabotaging my Zen attitude toward the bitterness cold can bring.

Don’t worry, I didn’t make this with my germy hands today. This is a recipe I prepared months ago but deferred to post for reasons I cannot now recall. But hey, Chinese New Year is here! Make some Asian meatballs! It’s year of the Sheep, so substitute lamb if you dare. I’d go for pork because these were delicious (and because I’m a product of the Year of the Rat, I’m stubborn and don’t care if I disregard annual themes.) For the record, worst Mardi Gras ever.

Asian Pork Meatballs

Adapted from the Food Network
For the meatballs:
2 tablespoons olive oil
3 cups thinly sliced green cabbage (about 1/4 head)
Kosher salt
Freshly ground white pepper
2 large eggs plus 1 egg white
1 1/2 pounds ground pork
4 scallions, minced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 2 -inch piece ginger, peeled and finely grated (about 1 tablespoon)
3 tablespoons low-sodium soy sauce
1 tablespoon toasted sesame oil
2 teaspoons sugar
2 teaspoons cornstarch
For the sauce:
1/2 cup hoisin sauce
2 teaspoons Sriracha chile sauce
1 teaspoon rice vinegar
1 tablespoon sugar
3 tablespoons sesame seeds
1 head Boston lettuce, leaves separated

Make the meatballs: Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F and line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Heat 1 tablespoon oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add the cabbage and season with 1/4 teaspoon salt; cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 4 minutes. Transfer the cabbage to a plate to cool.

Lightly beat the eggs and egg white in a large bowl. Add the pork, scallions, garlic, ginger, soy sauce, sesame oil, sugar and cornstarch. Add the cabbage and a few grinds of pepper and mix with your hands until just combined (do not overmix). Dampen your hands and shape the meat mixture into 18 balls (about 2 inches each); arrange on the prepared baking sheet.

Make the sauce: Mix the hoisin sauce, Sriracha, vinegar, sugar and 1 tablespoon water in a bowl; set aside 1/2 cup for serving. Brush the meatballs with the remaining sauce and sprinkle with the sesame seeds. Bake until cooked through, 18 to 22 minutes. Serve in lettuce leaves with the reserved sauce.

These were just fantastic. If I could remain upright for more than an hour, and/or if I had an appetite, I’d make them right now.

Haiku #45 (Feb 14)

We young lovers saw,

Instead of the Sex flick, the

One on Alzheimers.

Haiku #46 (Feb 15)

A chicken pecks a

Rubber band for ten minutes

While I worry on.

Haiku #47 (Feb 16)

I have worn all the

Wool I own and still snow falls

Thicker than blankets.

Haiku #48 (Feb 17)

Crows dance on rooftops

As though the stuff of our lives

Mere props in their play.
Haiku #49 (Feb 18)

Pathognomonic

Signs of flu: ankle-algia

And achy hairtips.

Bourbon Pecan Pie for Lovers

Let me not to the marriage of two minds admit impediment. Love’s not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove. Oh No. Love is an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken. It is the star to every wand’ring barque, whose course is unknown, but its heights be taken… This is the one Shakespearean sonnet I have committed to memory and could bust out if ever the mood of the moment called for someone to stand on a table in a restaurant or bank and Oh Captain my Captain a room of lovers to believe again in the power of words to stoke the heart’s fire. The conviction and spit and vigor in the cadence of iambic pentameter commands the volta of spirit—and so when I get to the final line of the famous verse, I am always near tears with faith again.

If this be error, and upon me proved, then I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Bourbon Pecan Pie for Lovers

Adapted from Food and Wine

PIECRUST

2 cups all-purpose flour

1/3 cup packed light brown sugar

3/4 teaspoon fine sea salt

1 stick plus 7 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and cooled

FILLING

1/2 cup granulated sugar

1/4 cup packed light brown sugar

1 1/2 teaspoons all-purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt

4 large eggs

1 1/2 cups cane, sorghum or dark corn syrup, or honey (I used honey because it is more floral, and the Amish folks really make the nice raw stuff here in Minnesota)

2 tablespoons bourbon

1 1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

1 1/2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract

1 3/4 cups unsalted pecan halves (1/2 pounds)

MAKE THE PIECRUST In a bowl, whisk the flour with the brown sugar and salt. Stir in the butter until the dough comes together into a ball. Transfer the dough to a deep 9-inch glass or ceramic pie plate. Using your fingers, press the dough over the bottom and up the side of the plate to the rim. Crimp the edge with your fingers or a fork. Refrigerate for at least 20 minutes or up to 3 days.

MAKE THE FILLING Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 350°. In a bowl, whisk both sugars with the flour, salt and eggs until smooth, then mix in the syrup or honey. Add the bourbon, butter and vanilla and fold in the pecans.

Pour the filling into the chilled crust and transfer the pie to a foil-lined baking sheet. Cover loosely with foil and bake for 1 hour, until the filling is nearly set. Transfer the pie to a rack and let cool completely, about 4 hours, before serving.

PS—I believe everyone should have AT LEAST one sonnet memorized for good measure. Times call for well-spoken love, and you better be ready.

Haiku #40 (Feb 9)

Sleeping folded as

A receipt forgotten in

Carry-on nethers.

Haiku #41 (Feb 10)

The hawk perched upon

A snow-covered bough, while the

Squirrel, above, tip-toed.

Haiku #42 (Feb 11)

And miles to go and

Miles to go and miles to go

Before I sleep, and.

Haiku #43 (Feb 12)

To feed the furnace,

Serve beef chili and slice the

Fire-roasted cornbread.

Haiku #44 (Feb 13)

Jazz performs magic:

Namely, the trick of turning

Red into pure verb.

Sesame Tartine Bread

And miles to go before I sleep/ And miles to go before I sleep. The pentameter of Robert Frost is a lullaby to winter, the journey into a darkened wood that passes farmhouses and lamp posts without relent, a cadence, a rhythm that in itself charms you into the sense that all is well, and all will be well. I am tired of the cold, and yet, in the groove of survival. Bread baking is a part of that groove.

Sesame Tartine Bread

Adapted from the Tartine bread book

2 cups toasted sesame seeds

Follow the recipe for Tartine Country bread and add the toasted sesame after the first turn, leaving a little to sprinkle on top during the banneton proofing stage.

Olive You Tartine Bread

Blustered, we were, on the trip to the SF Bay Area this weekend. That is the best way to describe the windy dolldrums of Pooh weather smattering the ships in the harbor and blowing pedestrians up and down the slick, steep sidewalks of downtown. Where better to shelter from the storm than in the welcoming homes of loved ones and in restaurants, stuffing ourselves silly?

Olive you, San Francisco. I didn’t even feel compelled to visit the Tartine bakery on this trip because I have been so successful in making my own home-grown approximation (below). However, I am strongly considering sending a vial and a self-addressed stamped envelope to the Tartine bakery with the simple request to scoop up some air for my Minnesota bacteria to breathe. I would love to taste the difference in my starter with the heady influence of some Tartine yeast fumes. Perhaps it would lift them the way it does me when I breathe in my first scent of eucalyptus carried on the warm gusts off the Bay.

Olive Tartine Bread

Adapted from the Tartine bread book

3 cups pitted black olives, chopped

Zest from one lemon

2 TB herbes de provence

Follow the recipe for Tartine Country bread and add the herbs after the first turn.

To make your own herbes de provence, I use this scheme:

1 teaspoon cumin
1 teaspoon dried rosemary
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon fresh basil
1 teaspoon dried marjoram
1 teaspoon dried fennel seed

A cursory photo montage of our SF restaurant tour, sadly omitting pics from Burmese Superstar (by far my favorite of all the places we dined) and Danny Coyle’s (a lovely pub in Haight where we got to see Mezacapas)

Palo Alto duck pond beauties– look at the schnoz on the one to the left.

Apparently you cannot just go to Facebook to hang out. Thumbs down on closed campus.

KP in this photograph taken at the Palo Alto Marsh Preserve was likened to this smiley character from Conan, by Anders.

And finally, we visited in the pouring rain the Alpine Inn, a historic Stanford watering hole. A local, Lloyd, told me he regularly rides his horse to the bar and hitches it up out back. Really bad cheeseburgers. But cheap. And the old-timey ambiance is worth the dive.

I have quite a few catch up haikus to include in this post as well!

Haiku #33 (Feb 2)

What if there is no

Tomorrow, ground hog? There was

No such thing today.

Haiku #34 (Feb 3)

The cheapest package

At the mortuary is

Called: “Togetherness.”

Haiku #35 (Feb 4)

Fluorescent wrist stamp:

My prison pass. Guards bark, “You

Don’t glow? You don’t go.”

Haiku #36 (Feb 5)

You have to crack the

Egg, says the psychiatrist,

Delusion is goo.

Haiku #37 (Feb 6)

Blow dart to the back

Of the neck for the plane guy

With no indoor voice.

Haiku #38 (Feb 7)

In the storm, this house

On the sea drips inside. It

Rains over the couch.

Haiku #39 (Feb 8)

Some punishment—to

Wear ill-fitting denim pants

On a red eye flight.

Spelt Cricket Bread

Challenge accepted and well-met! At the last bug-foodie party I went to, a lovely woman named Joy gifted me a sack of Bitty cricket flour and said, “You’re the baker.” She meant for me to invent a bread recipe using cricket flour. Well, here it is, world. Brought it to a dinner party last night and thought about waiting until everyone had already eaten a few pieces to make the “Oh by the way, there are crickets in this bread” public service announcement, but there is a known cross-reactivity allergy in people who cannot have shellfish, so I forewarned the whole group. Everyone took a slice, and several took two! This is the spongiest, yummiest whole grain bread I’ve made in a while. Enjoy.

Spelt Cricket Bread

3 cups spelt flour

1 cup cricket flour

2 cups all purpose flour

1 1/2 cups sourdough starter

1 tablespoon kosher salt or 2 teaspoons table salt

1 1/2 cups lukewarm water

2 cups plain whole-milk yogurt

Mix sourdough and water and yogurt until well combined. You can do this by hand, using a dough whisk or big spoon; or in a stand mixer. Then blend in the flours. Let dough rest 40 minutes, covered, and then add the salt in another 20 mL of water.

Cover the dough, and let it rest at cool room temperature for 2 hours.

At this point, you can cover and refrigerate the dough for up to 7 days. The flavor will gradually become more assertive and tangier, as the yeast continues to grow and create organic acids.

Scoop off a 1-pound piece of dough – about the size of a large grapefruit. You’ll get 3 to 4 loaves out of the entire batch of dough, depending on how big you actually make the loaves.

Shape into a boule or a batard.

Let the bread rise for about 90 minutes.

Towards the end of the rising time, heat the oven to 450°F. If you’re using a pizza stone, put it on a lower-middle shelf. Whether or not you’re using a stone, place a shallow pan – such as a broiler pan, or small rimmed cookie sheet – on the lowest oven shelf.

Have 1 cup of hot water ready; you’re going to pour it into the pan in the oven to create steam.

Make a couple of quick, aggressive cuts in the loaf and put it into the hot oven – either on your stone or, if it’s on a baking sheet, on the oven rack.

Pour the hot water into the pan below, and shut the oven door.

Bake for 25-30 minutes, or until it sounds hollow when thumped.

My bulldog plotting an ambush. I also made a boule because this recipe makes so much dough. If you don’t want to make all the bread at once (4 1-lb loaves) you can put the remainder in the fridge (covered in saran) and do it over a week.

Esterhazy Torte or Hazelnut Dacquoise Layer Cake

Yet again, a “rustic” cake from the wedding cake designer only Quasimodo would hire. Sorry folks. Another good schadenfreude moment for my haters. What is my handicap with fancy cakes? I need to take a class or something! You know, I think it’s the end game for me—I’m solid through the baking, the layering, and then when it comes to frosting—to decoration—I choke and wildly surrender in ugly haste. I brought this cake to a very forgiving Super Bowl party tonight, but it was, terribly, a foreshadowing of another wild surrender as the Seahawks choked at the finish line. My frosting here is surely cake-equivalent to throwing an interception at the one yard line with 40 seconds to go. Lessons learned, lessons learned.

Esterhazy Torte or

Hazelnut Dacquoise Layer Cake

Adapted from Jelena at Kingdom for a Cake, for Daring Bakers Forum

HAZELNUT SPONGE LAYERS

12 large egg whites

1 cup plus 1 tablespoon caster superfine sugar – (I made this by taking regular granulated sugar and pulsing it several times in a food processor.)

2 tablespoons vanilla sugar

2½ cups ground hazelnuts

2/3 cup plain flour

HAZELNUT CREAM

12 large egg yolks

1 cup plus 1 tablespoon caster (superfine) sugar

2 tablespoons vanilla sugar

1 -1/3 cups butter at room temperature

1½ cups toasted ground hazelnuts

WHITE ICING
2½ to 3¼ cups powdered sugar
2 teaspoons sunflower oil
3-4 teaspoons lemon juice
around 4 tablespoons hot water

CHOCOLATE DECORATION
¼ cup (1¾ oz) dark chocolate
1 teaspoon oil
¾ cup roughly chopped hazelnuts

Directions:

HAZELNUTS

Place the hazelnuts on an oven tray in a cold oven, increase the temperature to moderate 350°Fand bake until a nice aroma starts to come out of the oven and the nuts have become darker.

Continue until their skins almost turn black or dark brown and the hazelnut ‘meat’ becomes a caramel colour. You will need to watch the oven carefully since the nuts can easily burn. From time to time, just open the oven and carefully try one to see if the centre is nice and crispy, but be careful not to burn yourself. It should take about 15-25 minutes.

This baking process brings out the aroma of the hazelnuts needed for the cake. (If you are using almonds instead of hazelnuts, they need to stay white. Hazelnuts are not good in this cake if their aroma is not present.)

Let them cool.

Set aside ¾ cup toasted nuts and roughly chop them. These will go around the cake at the end.

The rest need to be ground. A grinding machine is best since a food processor might turn the hazelnuts into a creamy mush. If you are using a processor do it in short pulses so they do not have the consistency of peanut butter but of fine powder.

Divide the ground hazelnuts into 2 batches of 2½ cups and 1½ cups for the sponge layers and the filling respectively.

HAZELNUT LAYERS (Dacquoise layers)

This part is brought to you by: Chickens on Ice! 12 eggs is no small feat, but add that to the current strife surrounding my chickens’ living conditions after the last heavy snow this weekend and the production is all the more to be lauded. Bravo, ladies. Bravo.

With an electric mixer beat the egg whites while gradually adding the sugar and vanilla sugar for about 5 minutes until stiff peaks form.

Turn the mixer to the lowest speed and add in the hazelnuts mixed with the flour and beat until just combined.

Cut baking paper into five squares large enough to draw a circle of 10 inch (25cm) in diameter on the squares.

Turn the paper over and place one piece onto an up-side down oven tray and delicately spoon inside the circle one-fifth of the beaten egg white mixture.

Place the tray into an preheated moderate 325°F oven and bake for 14 minutes. It will look soft but that is how we want them. Your finger should not stick to the layer when you touch it.

Take the layer out together with the paper and place on an even surface

Cool the oven tray and repeat with the next 4 layers. It is important that the up-side down oven tray is cool when you start to bake the layers.

If you have a 10 inch (25cm) diameter spring form pan with a removable bottom just cut out five pieces of baking paper to fit the bottom and spoon the mixture in the pan.

Make sure to cool the bottom of the pan after removing each layer and before placing the egg white mixture for the next layer into it.

Place all the layers next to each other.
HAZELNUT FILLING

The filling is cooked in a double boiler. If you do not have a double boiler just take two pots so that the smaller one fits perfectly in the larger one and there is no gap between them.

Fill the larger pot with about 1-inch (2 cm) water place on the stove and bring the water to a slow boil, the water should not touch the smaller pot bottom.

Beat the egg yolks and the sugar with an electric mixer in the smaller pot for 30 seconds. Place the smaller pot into the larger one and cook for 14-15 minutes. Stir every 2-3 minutes for a short while with a wooden spoon always scraping the sides and the bottom. Stir constantly, near the end.

Let the filling cool.

Beat the cooked yolks for 30 seconds with an electric mixer.

Beat the room temperature butter for 2 minutes until light and fluffy then beat into the cooked yolks.

Add in the ground hazelnuts and beat again until combined.

Set aside 2 tablespoons of the filling to spread around the torte at the end.

Divide the rest of the filling into 4 cups.

Line a large tray with some baking paper.

Remove the baking paper from one of the dacquoise and place it onto the tray, spread one quantity of filing evenly over the dacquoise, then place another layer on the top.

Repeat, making sure that the last layer is placed bottom-side-up (do not place filling on this surface) which will make it easier to obtain a smooth looking finish.

Place some baking paper over the torte. Press a bit with your hands to even it out, put another tray over the torte and now place something heavy on the top to allow the torte to level up. A pan half-filled with water will be fine.

Place the whole torte with the pot in the fridge for one hour.

WHITE ICING

By hand mix the powdered sugar, oil, lemon juice while adding teaspoon by teaspoon of hot water until the mixture is creamy, but not runny. Mix vigorously for a couple of minutes. The sugar should be lemony.

With a hot wet large knife quickly spread the icing over the cake. Here– again– I need someone to tell me where I went wrong. Apparently this is much harder than this simple instruction implies, but I have no good tips for success, obviously, since mine looks like it was done by Jackson Pollack.

You will need around 2½ to 3¼ cups of powdered sugar but it is better to have more than less, since when you start spreading you cannot go back. You will have some left over icing. If it is a bit uneven just turn on the hair dryer and heat the icing so it will smooth out a bit.
DECORATION

Before starting with the icing have the chocolate ready since it needs to go onto the soft icing in order to get the web. Here again, I think I waited too long, and the icing had already dried before I got the chocolate on there. I also had nothing to “pipe” with– so this was all done with a fork. And it shows.

Melt the chocolate with a teaspoon of oil, place in a pipping bag, or a plastic bag with a cut in the corner that will act as the tip.

Draw four (4) concentric circles onto the cake, then with a knife (not the sharp side) or a wooden skewer run six (6) lines at 30 degree angle to the cake to get the decoration (see pictures for more details). Each line should be in a different direction. One running away from you and the next one running to you.

Press the remaining crushed hazelnuts around the cake to complete the decoration (I had run out of hazelnuts at this point– and they are $18 a pound right now, so that’s that.

Let rest in the fridge for at least 24 hours before tasting. This cake that gets better as times goes by. We usually enjoy ours for 7 days.

This cake tasted WONDERFUL, in spite of its its lamentable appearance. Equally tasty, yet far more aesthetically pleasing were the Seahawks football cupcakes made by our host Kim.

Haiku #30

The symphony at

Yellowstone Park, no, sorry–

just my bulldog’s gas.

Haiku #31

The prisoners are

learning to tend the gardens

within–water soul.

Haiku #32

Raynaud’s of the brain:

Fragile neuron endings like

Blueing fingertips.

Tomato-Portobello Stacks with Wasabi and Cheater’s Bearnaise

It is going to take daily dance parties if I am going to survive this winter. Blood needs to flow; meanwhile, all liquid outside my body has stopped. Our driveway is puddled with glass, and every day I’m dancing against friction to keep myself upright. These veggies burgers are a foreshadowing of grilling days to come. Come quickly, thaw.

Tomato-Portobello Stacks with Wasabi and Cheater’s Bearnaise

Adapted from Food and Wine

2 tablespoons minced shallot

1 1/2 tablespoons tarragon vinegar or white wine vinegar

Kosher salt

Pepper

3/4 cup mayonnaise

1 tsp wasabi (or as you like it)

1 tablespoon minced tarragon

Extra-virgin olive oil, for brushing

6 large portobello mushrooms, stems discarded

One 1-pound beefsteak tomato, cored and cut crosswise into six 1/2-inch-thick slices

Thinly sliced scallions, for garnish

In a bowl, whisk the shallot and vinegar with a generous pinch each of salt and pepper; let stand for 5 minutes. Whisk in the mayonnaise, wasabi, tarragon and 1 1/2 tablespoons of water. Season the béarnaise sauce with salt and pepper.

Light a grill and brush with oil. Brush the portobello caps with oil and season with salt and pepper. Grill over moderately high heat, turning once, until lightly charred, 6 minutes. Transfer to a plate. Brush the tomato with oil and season with salt and pepper. Grill, turning once, until lightly charred, 3 minutes total. Set the tomatoes on the portobellos.

Spoon the béarnaise on the tomato slices. Transfer the stacks to the grill and close the grill. Cook over moderate heat until the sauce is just hot, 3 minutes. Transfer to plates, garnish with scallions and serve.

Haiku #28

Long Minnesota

Winters chill my soul worse than

God’s indifference

Haiku #29

Frostbite on moped

Rides—I am an idiot—

A full body fist.

Chocolate Chirp Cookies

Not a bad birthday… Went to Saint Paul to see Sam Smith after a fancy dinner at the Heartland with KP; got properly serenaded by Michael Bolton; then Izzy gave us an Ebola scare with hemorrhagic diarrhea and explosive vomiting (and yes, I know you’re wondering, our grey-white carpets have never been better—ho ho, in fact, look as though we have been slaughtering bilious, manic pigs in the house for several days). I spent most of my thirtieth birthday wishing and praying that Izzy would see her sixth, which is next month. She’s been holding down liquids since midnight, so keep vigil with us in spirit. Or send diapers.

In other news, I was thrilled to take part in a unique festivity at the People’s Co-op this evening—A Celebration of Entomophagy. That’s right, bug-eating. It’s so vile it’s vogue. Actually, it’s a sustainability thing. Bugs, as we all know from life experience, are far easier to grow than they are to kill. And certainly cheaper/easier than plants or animals. They also pack a lot of protein in their wiggly little bodies. For example, from a baking standpoint (which is my only standpoint in the culinary community), one quarter cup of cricket flour has 7g of protein in it as compared with like 2.5g with the equivalent amount of regular flour, or 3.5g-ish if we’re talking whole wheat. Also, they require far less water/energy to produce. Did you know that it takes a gallon of water to produce one almond!? So a group of local dieticians and foodies, myself included, wanted to know—do foods made of bugs taste good?

My simple answer: Yes.

Tonight the culinary motif was crickets, and together we enjoyed:

Pancakes,

Chocolate chip cookies,

Granola bars,

and pumpkin truffles made with cricket flour:

For my contribution to the feast, I spiffed up my oatmeal chocolate chip cookie recipe with the addition of ½ cup whole crickets. I was gifted the remainder of the Bitty cricket flour at the end of the night, challenged with the task of making a tasty loaf of bread, which I shall, forthwith.

I give you Oatmeal Chocolate Chirp Cookies, protein-packed cookie dough!