Monthly Archive for November, 2006

Thanksgiving Bounce Back

We’re totally stuffed with turkey and mashed potatoes. We had multiple days of leftovers, three kinds of pie, and lots of fun with my Mom, Dad, and Sister out in Arizona. So now comes the recovery time, back to eating relatively healthy foods. It’s an uphill battle, as Christmas is looming around the corner. We thought we’d jump start the process by ordering a box of organic fruits and vegetables from Timber Creek Farms in Yorkville Illinois.

Our Veggie Box

Our Veggie Box

We’ve never done this before, so it’s a bit of an adventure. Our friends Brett and Jill have ordered a few boxes (Brett is one of the editors of Victim of Time, just a quick plug…). They’ve been really happy with the stuff they’ve gotten from them. The process is pretty cool, you call up before Friday each week, and let them know which premade box you’d like to order. The next week, usually in the middle of the night, a delivery man will drop the box off on your front door. If you leave a cooler, they’ll put it in there to keep the squirrels out. How’s that for service? The best part is the price. For their entry level box, you get all of this:

Head Cauliflower
Bunch Broccoli
5# Idaho Potatoes
Butternut Squash
Green Leaf Lettuce
1# Carrots
Honey Dew Melon
Pineapple
2 Lemons
3# Navel Oranges
1# Kiwi
6 Fuji Apples

For just $24.95! That’s a pretty smoking good deal. That much fruit and veggies should last at least a week, probably two. Plus, once a week or so you’ll go to sleep knowing you’ll wake up to fresh fruits and veggies. It’s like Santa Claus putting broccoli in your stocking. Super fun.

Happy Thanksgiving!

A vintage postcard, from a time when we didn't mind knowing where our meat came from.

A vintage postcard, from a time when we didn't mind knowing where our meat came from.


Here’s hoping you and yours have a great time, may your birds be juicy and your potatoes buttery. There’s a ton of good Turkey recipes out there in the world, so we wanted to drop a quick leftover idea instead. In the words of Johnny Cash, “Momma turns the leftovers into hash, we’re doing alright, for country trash.” Friday morning, try taking some leftover mashed potatoes, rough chopped turkey (dark meat is great for this) and mix it together with a little bit of butter, salt, and pepper, then pan fry it in your well seasoned cast iron skillet. It makes a really great turkey hash. Throw a couple of fried eggs on top, and you have a leftover breakfast that no one else on your block will be trying.

Also, Thursday night, take your turkey carcass (oooo, carcass!), slip it into a big gallon ziplock bag, and put it in your freezer. We’re going to write a turkey stock article pretty soon, with some tips on making your own turkey stock. We’ve never tried it ourselves, so it won’t be expert advice by any means. It’ll be a more conspiratorial, “this is how we succeeded (or failed)” type article.

Have a great Thanksgiving tomorrow, if you’re cooking, remember: it’s just food, don’t get too worked up about it.

Pot Bread

Last week, the New York Times made a bold claim. It had nothing to do with Iraq, the election, or our rights slowly being chipped away at by our hateful government, it was about bread. Specifically, it was about one New York baker’s claim that the traditional 12 steps of baking can do with one less step.

From The Bread Baker’s Apprentice, by Peter Reinhart, here are the traditional 12 steps of bread baking.

1. Mise en place: Set up your workspace. Measure your stuff, put them in cute little bowls, fix your hair, smooth down wrinkles in your apron, smile for the camera.

2. Mixing: Kneading. If by hand, typically 300 kneads, if by machine, a few minutes. This builds the gluten strands that are soooo important to bread. (Nudge, nudge, this is the step that sassy New Yorker wants to kill.)

3. Primary Fermentation: The first big chunk of waiting time. The yeast does it’s thing, making little yeast gasses, making the bread rise. Remember the gluten strands from step two? They’re holding all the gas in.

4. Punching Down (Degassing): Knock out the majority of the gas. We’re not eating a cream puff here, we’re eating bread.

5. Dividing: Chunk up the dough into whatever portions you’re going to be serving.

6. Rounding: Not sure why this is a step. Seriously, it should be 5a. It’s basically just making the shape you want.

7. Benching: Resting the dough, so the gluten is destressed. Maybe have a beer. (all cooking needs at least one beer step.)

8. Shaping: Sure. Shape it.

9. Proofing (Secondary Fermentation): A second, final rise. Your gluten is strong, your gas is degassed, let’s let the little yeasty boogers puff up your bread some more.

10. Baking: Duh.

11. Cooling: Duh.

12. Storing and Eating: Seriously, there is no step 12.

As hilarious as I am about the 12 steps, that book is really great. You should buy it.

However, we digress. What did the NYTimes do last week? They suggested a bread baking technique that requires no kneading! What? Impossible! How would that work? In those twelve steps, kneading is by far the most hands on time you spend with the dough. If you fidget with your dough for a half hour, kneading is about twenty minutes. The article sounded too good to be true, so we tried it out.

Our example of no-knead bread, from the NYTimes recipe

Our example of no-knead bread, from the NYTimes recipe


The Recipe

The article says that they want to get this recipe out, so I’m going to cut and paste it. If you’re reading this, and you work for the New York Times, a) awesome, thanks for reading b) if I’m doing something wrong, please let me know.

Recipe: No-Knead Bread

Published: November 8, 2006

Adapted from Jim Lahey, Sullivan Street Bakery
Time: About 1½ hours plus 14 to 20 hours’ rising
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3 cups all-purpose or bread flour, more for dusting
¼ teaspoon instant yeast
1¼ teaspoons salt
Cornmeal or wheat bran as needed.

1. In a large bowl combine flour, yeast and salt. Add 1 5/8 cups water, and
stir until blended; dough will be shaggy and sticky. Cover bowl with plastic
wrap. Let dough rest at least 12 hours, preferably about 18, at warm room
temperature, about 70 degrees.

2. Dough is ready when its surface is dotted with bubbles. Lightly flour a work
surface and place dough on it; sprinkle it with a little more flour and fold it
over on itself once or twice. Cover loosely with plastic wrap and let rest about
15 minutes.

3. Using just enough flour to keep dough from sticking to work surface or
to your fingers, gently and quickly shape dough into a ball. Generously coat
a cotton towel (not terry cloth) with flour, wheat bran or cornmeal; put dough
seam side down on towel and dust with more flour, bran or cornmeal. Cover
with another cotton towel and let rise for about 2 hours. When it is ready,
dough will be more than double in size and will not readily spring back when
poked with a finger.

4. At least a half-hour before dough is ready, heat oven to 450 degrees.
Put a 6- to 8-quart heavy covered pot (cast iron, enamel, Pyrex or ceramic)
in oven as it heats. When dough is ready, carefully remove pot from oven.
Slide your hand under towel and turn dough over into pot, seam side up;
it may look like a mess, but that is O.K. Shake pan once or twice if dough is
unevenly distributed; it will straighten out as it bakes. Cover with lid and
bake 30 minutes, then remove lid and bake another 15 to 30 minutes, until
loaf is beautifully browned. Cool on a rack.

Yield: One 1½-pound loaf.

We did vary up the recipe a little bit. We used 8 ounces of organic non-bleached bread flour, four ounces of whole wheat flour, and four ounces of rye flour. (If you’re serious about baking, get yourself a baking scale. The better baking books nowadays give measurements in ounces, not cups. To convert backwards recipes like the above, just say a cup is 4 ounces. Flour volume is really dependent on how packed your flour is. 4 ounces is a gross simplification, so try your best to find recipes with the proper measurements. Volume measurements always assume sifted flour. If you measure by weight, you’re much less likely to use too much or too little flour.) Note the part in the article that says, “this dough is sticky.” Is it ever! After 18 hours, it barely rose, and was like a thick oatmeal. I was convinced that it wouldn’t work.

We finished up the final steps (flouring, second rise), and then dumped it in a very hot steel pot. We don’t have a cast iron or enameled dutch oven, but we do have a stainless steel one. We weren’t sure if it would work, but necessity is the mother of invention, right? I was really worried when the dough hit the steel and sizzled. At that point, I was sure we were a) going to have a loaf of not-bread, and b) going to have a huge clean up mess with our fancy steel dutch oven.

Boy was I wrong.

After a half hour, I took the lid off the dutch oven for the final crust hardening period. It smelled great, and looked like real bread. I was flabbergasted. We finished the bake off, let the bread cool for a while, and were delighted to find a really respectable nice loaf. It didn’t rise nearly as much as I would have liked, but it was bread, and it did taste great. The crumb was nice and even, and the crust was fantastic.

So, death to kneading?

Absolutely not. This was a good article. It can’t hurt to play around with the steps of baking to see what happens, but nothing beats a traditional loaf with proper kneading time. As a species, we’ve been kneading bread for thousands of years, just because you’re the New York Times doesn’t mean you can kick down a good old fashioned knead and expect everyone to change. Kneading bread by hand is something you should do at least once, preferably a thousand times. It’s work, it requires forearm strength, and it feels good. Drink a beer while you’re doing it. It won’t hurt the bread.

The one thing from this recipe that I’ll try again though is baking in a dutch oven. That worked like a champ. The crust on this bread was fantastic. Since this is also the winter of soups, we’re talking about buying a Le Creuset dutch oven for our soups and bread baking. Part of what worked so well for the NYTimes recipe was the amount of water in the dough. The steam inside the dutch oven was what helped the crust to form. I’m not sure what will happen with a traditional loaf inside the hot pot. We’ll just have to try it out and see. Bread is an adventure!

The Traditional Thanksgiving Gantt Chart

Thanksgiving is only two weeks away, like us, you’re probably starting to pick out a good Turkey recipe, decide side dishes, and pick out pies. That stuff is a lot of fun. We hosted our first ever Thanksgiving dinner last year. As we were planning for it, we decided we wanted to eat around three. We realized that to meet the 3pm deadline, we were going to need to work backwards and map out our prep times and oven times.

Enter the Gantt Chart

Gantt charts, the bane of project managers everywhere, are perfect for resource allocation. In this case, the resource is our oven and our prep hands. Last year we worked with graph paper and highlighters, this year we’re stepping it up to index cards, markers, and tape. The concept is pretty straight forward, treat each index card like an hours worth of time. If your turkey needs three hours at 325 degrees, write “Turkey 325″ across three index cards, and tape them together. If the same turkey needs a half hour of prep time, fold a card in half, tear along the line, and write “Turkey Prep, chop herbs and butter bird”.

Our Thanksgiving Gantt Chart

Our Thanksgiving Gantt Chart

Work through each item on your menu. Then group them by temperature. Your turkey is going to dominate for three hours, can you shove a green bean casserole in there at 325? That will save time. Look at all your prep work, group veggie chopping tasks so you spend one stretch of a half hour at the chopping board, rather than remembering you have to chop another onion even though you just chopped one an hour ago.

Once you have all your groups, start laying things out. Because they’re all on big chunky index cards, you can move them around on the table. When you have a pattern that you like, that will help to streamline things, put it on your fridge with magnets, or tape it all together in one big Gantt blob and hang it on the wall. On Turkey day, you can scratch index card tasks off as you move through the chart, or feel really accomplishy and throw out the cards as each one is completed. Whatever you do, we guarantee you’re going to be eating at the time you said you would. Good work Turkey.

Kiss My Grits

Bob's Red Mill Corn Grits, our favorite kind

Bob's Red Mill Corn Grits, our favorite kind

Corn used to be dried for storage. Dry corn lasts a lot longer than watery fresh corn. When you were ready to eat your dried corn, you could take it to the local grist mill and have it ground into corn meal suitable for corn bread, corn mush, stuff like that. As the stone wheel ground the dried corn into meal, heavier pieces would resist the stone. These are “grits.” Keep in mind, when you’re eating grits, you’re eating the really strong part of corn. Awesome.

Grits are making a comeback, I’ve seen articles about them in the New York Times food section, I’ve heard of (but never found) fancy heirloom grits grown from 19th century kernels of corn, I’ve even heard you can get grits at Charlie Trotters, though I can’t afford to find out for myself.

Grits, Hominy, and Polenta

Hominy is corn, corn that’s been “nixtamalized” which means, “soaking in an alkaline solution.” The corn kernels swell up to almost three times their size. Whenever we go to Florida to visit Camri’s Dad we almost always have fried hominy for breakfast. It’s really good. It also can be ground up to make “hominy” grits.

Polenta is really just Italian for grits. They’re exactly the same, just slightly different preparations. The raw material is just chunks of stone ground corn. No real difference. Marketers disagree, but they’re wrong. Polenta == Grits.

Preparing

Grits are simple to prepare, and leave lots of room for interpretation. The basic formula is “one cup of grits to two cups of water, plus salt”. Boil the water, add the grits, turn down to simmer, cover, and wait about ten minutes. Fluff and serve. Polenta, on the other hand, is typically three waters to one grits, with cheese and milk added in the middle, and a lot of stirring. It comes out much creamier, but takes a lot longer to prepare.

Variations

Back to traditional grits, once you get the basic two to one formula down, there’s lots of room for variations. Try adding a bunch of shredded cheese and some milk towards the end, you get cheese grits. Add a bunch of butter and more salt at the end, butter grits. Top either with a few fried eggs (ideally from your well seasoned cast iron skillet.) and you can officially say you’re having a southern breakfast. You can also sweeten the grits with milk and honey for a different style of breakfast, or add chunks of bacon for a good salty breakfast. Grits are a blank canvas folks, if you can dream it, you can do it. Grits are forgiving.