The Fourth of July conjures up hazy recollections of banana seat bikes at neighborhood block parties, picking Blue crab fresh from the Chesapeake Bay and watermelon-seed spitting contests. I even recall a particular Fourth of July, back in the early 90’s where neighbors performed the popular Madonna song, Vogue, while decked out in blonde wigs and black leather, thus sparking an early love affair for beauty marks (er, moles) and tall black boots.
Nineteen years and 1,500 miles from the east coast later, I am re-evaluating my defining Fourth of July festivities.
In reverence of my favorite shell fish, I munch on Utz Crab chips and sip Perrier’s Pamplemousse Rose (grapefruit scented) sparkling water, while flipping through the July editions of Gourmet and Bon Appétit for inspiration.
I drool over coffee-rubbed, barbeque burgers, chipotle baby-back ribs, peanut butter and chocolate chip blondies à la mode and a particular honey caramel peach pie.
With lips already in smacking mode, I open a notebook and begin planning in accordance with my allotted budget. Now there’s a surefire way to stunt my cooking enthusiasm. On a teaching salary, it is essential that I become the world’s most creatively prudent cook.
I remember the 99 cent strawberries from the grocer down the street and decide on a strawberry dessert. I think of the pot of basil on my front stoop and sweet potatoes in my cupboard. And, though slightly dejected at moments, having discarded romanticized notions of baby back ribs, lobster rolls and giant blueberry pies, I settle on a menu that is both budget-friendly and still lip-smacking-good. And, here it goes:
Grilled corn with cumin and lime
Open face tomato, egg and basil sandwiches
Sweet potato salad with cilantro and sautéed peppers
Mini frittatas with bacon and herbs
Strawberry crisp dessert
And, as for banana-seat bike riding and Madonna impersonations, I settle for the pool in the backyard and a place on the hood of the car for Houston’s fireworks show, with many thanks to host, Shell Oil.
Happy Fourth to Americans everywhere! We sure are a lucky bunch. God bless the USA!
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Porks & Prawns
When I was young, summer smelled of honeysuckle, magnolia, a fresh-cut lawn and juicy pork chops. If I close my eyes, I see my dad's watchful eye hovering above the grill, returning every three minutes from the kitchen.
If I follow my dad inside, he'll be spinning my mother around to old Van Morrison or Frank Sinatra. Watching their faces, I see that they are smiling, sometimes laughing, with eyes often closed; anticipating their familiar dance partner's every move.
Tonight, I am back home, not quite as young. But, summer smells relatively unchanged. An occasional perfume of gardenia floats beneath my nose, replacing the wisteria of my youth. And, prawns replace pork's former place on the grill. The music has been updated to pop-crooner Lenny Kravitz, who screeches, "American wommman," as my mother shimmies in circles around my dad.
It is always nice to be home, no matter pork or prawn. Everything's more delicious when made while dancing with those you love.
Dad's Prawns with Lemon-Garlic Butter:
Olive oil for coating
Spice rub:
1 Tbl. sweet paprika
1 Tbl. garlic powder
1 tsp. lemon pepper
2 tsp. salt
24 large prawns
Lemon-Garlic Butter:
1/2 c. salted butter
zest of one lemon
juice of one lemon
4 cloves garlic, minced
1/4 tsp. cayenne pepper
16 wooden skewers, soaked for thirty minutes
Coat prawns with rub and thread onto skewers.
Melt butter in saucepan, stirring in lemon juice and zest, garlic and cayenne. Reserve half for basting, the other for serving.
Grill over direct heat, turning once or twice to baste, until evenly pink.
Serve immediately to jazzy tunes of choice!
If I follow my dad inside, he'll be spinning my mother around to old Van Morrison or Frank Sinatra. Watching their faces, I see that they are smiling, sometimes laughing, with eyes often closed; anticipating their familiar dance partner's every move.
Tonight, I am back home, not quite as young. But, summer smells relatively unchanged. An occasional perfume of gardenia floats beneath my nose, replacing the wisteria of my youth. And, prawns replace pork's former place on the grill. The music has been updated to pop-crooner Lenny Kravitz, who screeches, "American wommman," as my mother shimmies in circles around my dad.
It is always nice to be home, no matter pork or prawn. Everything's more delicious when made while dancing with those you love.
Dad's Prawns with Lemon-Garlic Butter:
Olive oil for coating
Spice rub:
1 Tbl. sweet paprika
1 Tbl. garlic powder
1 tsp. lemon pepper
2 tsp. salt
24 large prawns
Lemon-Garlic Butter:
1/2 c. salted butter
zest of one lemon
juice of one lemon
4 cloves garlic, minced
1/4 tsp. cayenne pepper
16 wooden skewers, soaked for thirty minutes
Coat prawns with rub and thread onto skewers.
Melt butter in saucepan, stirring in lemon juice and zest, garlic and cayenne. Reserve half for basting, the other for serving.
Grill over direct heat, turning once or twice to baste, until evenly pink.
Serve immediately to jazzy tunes of choice!
Monday, May 18, 2009
Welcome Summer
With early May temperatures already topping the hottest of summer days in Atlanta, my tasetbuds have catapulted into the cool, sweet and refreshing tastes of summer here in Houston.
The comforting crab bisques of cool spring evenings, I have replaced with chilled gazpachos and zucchini vichyssoises. My beloved breakfasts of blueberry scones, warm and crisped from the oven, have been replaced by simple bowls of honeynut Cheerios and ice-cold milk.
My palate embraces all things cool to counteract the thick blanket of warm air that is Houston spring disguised as summer.
A favorite summer meal of my hubby-to-be is a cool salad made with salty feta cheese and large, juicy pieces of sweet watermelon. Grilled snapper with lemon and thyme works well alongside the salad.
And, if we decide to have guests, we often throw together an additional accompaniment of crisp green beans and boiled red potatoes with rosemary, olive oil, cracked pepper and sea salt.
Everything we serve chilled or room-temperature, except for the fish, whose mere existence reminds us of summer and refreshing dips in the sea.
Such summer meals, full of citrus, fresh herbs and seafood, make us feel as if we are relaxing on the Mediterranean, or on moonlit porches along the Amalfi coast. Nevermind our Texas palms or plastic lawn chairs, our tongues for the moment, have transported us to far away places.
For dessert, we travel west, over a Peruvian dulce de leche torte served with a small scoop of vanilla bean ice cream. (A great recipe can be found on www.gourmet.com)
*For the feta cheese & watermelon salad, add as much or as little of the ingredients to suit your taste. We usually chunk one whole watermelon and in a large bowl, combine with 8-oz. of chunked feta cheese, one red onion, sliced thin, & fresh mint. We then toss the salad with a viniagrette made of 1/4 c. olive oil, two Tbl. of dijon mustard, two Tbl. of red wine vinegar, one Tbl. of honey, salt & pepper. Voila!
For cool summer evenings, a favorite zucchini vichyssoise:
2 Tbl. olive oil
5 chopped leeks, white & green parts
8 small white boiling potatoes, chopped
2 chopped zucchinis
1 1/2 c. chicken stock
2 Tbl. cream
Julienned zucchini & chopped green green onion for garnish
salt & pepper
Heat 2 Tbl. of oil in a large stockpot. Add leeks, and saute over med-low for five minutes. Add potatoes, zucchini, stock, salt & pepper; bring to a boil, cover and simmer over low heat for thirty minutes. Let cool. In batches, process in blender or food processor until smooth. Return to pot, add cream, salt and pepper. Serve cold with julienned zucchini and green onion. Enjoy!
Happy Summer!
The comforting crab bisques of cool spring evenings, I have replaced with chilled gazpachos and zucchini vichyssoises. My beloved breakfasts of blueberry scones, warm and crisped from the oven, have been replaced by simple bowls of honeynut Cheerios and ice-cold milk.
My palate embraces all things cool to counteract the thick blanket of warm air that is Houston spring disguised as summer.
A favorite summer meal of my hubby-to-be is a cool salad made with salty feta cheese and large, juicy pieces of sweet watermelon. Grilled snapper with lemon and thyme works well alongside the salad.
And, if we decide to have guests, we often throw together an additional accompaniment of crisp green beans and boiled red potatoes with rosemary, olive oil, cracked pepper and sea salt.
Everything we serve chilled or room-temperature, except for the fish, whose mere existence reminds us of summer and refreshing dips in the sea.
Such summer meals, full of citrus, fresh herbs and seafood, make us feel as if we are relaxing on the Mediterranean, or on moonlit porches along the Amalfi coast. Nevermind our Texas palms or plastic lawn chairs, our tongues for the moment, have transported us to far away places.
For dessert, we travel west, over a Peruvian dulce de leche torte served with a small scoop of vanilla bean ice cream. (A great recipe can be found on www.gourmet.com)
*For the feta cheese & watermelon salad, add as much or as little of the ingredients to suit your taste. We usually chunk one whole watermelon and in a large bowl, combine with 8-oz. of chunked feta cheese, one red onion, sliced thin, & fresh mint. We then toss the salad with a viniagrette made of 1/4 c. olive oil, two Tbl. of dijon mustard, two Tbl. of red wine vinegar, one Tbl. of honey, salt & pepper. Voila!
For cool summer evenings, a favorite zucchini vichyssoise:
2 Tbl. olive oil
5 chopped leeks, white & green parts
8 small white boiling potatoes, chopped
2 chopped zucchinis
1 1/2 c. chicken stock
2 Tbl. cream
Julienned zucchini & chopped green green onion for garnish
salt & pepper
Heat 2 Tbl. of oil in a large stockpot. Add leeks, and saute over med-low for five minutes. Add potatoes, zucchini, stock, salt & pepper; bring to a boil, cover and simmer over low heat for thirty minutes. Let cool. In batches, process in blender or food processor until smooth. Return to pot, add cream, salt and pepper. Serve cold with julienned zucchini and green onion. Enjoy!
Happy Summer!
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Project Polenta
Today, I made an orange polenta cake.
For breakfast :)
8 a.m.
Scrounging around my pantry, numb to the usual granola, oatmeal and much beloved huevos rancheros...
9 a.m.
Still sipping black coffee, much distressed over my sans cream situation, too lazy to slip into a pair of jeans and drive to the market to replenish supply..
9:30
Flipping through Gourmet, discover Orange Polenta Cake, dripping in orange marmalade glaze.
Quickly scan recipe.
Pajama toes to action!
Whipping around the corner and into the kitchen, I fling myself upon various cabinets, and discover:
1 c. of yellow corn meal, life expiration of April 2009. I look to the calendar. March 18, 2009.
I think to myself,
sad little bag,
you are just what I need,
the delights you may bring,
may far exceed,
all that I
had prior believed!
Hm, not much of a poet, I see. 'Tis sad, but so.
I discover eggs, flour, baking powder and salt and throw in a 1/4 c. of dried cranberries for good measure. I tackle the fridge, which, much to my relief, possesses two sticks of butter and one jar of orange marmalade. I grab a bag of almonds, flinching momentarily at the word ground that stares up at me from its glossy page.
However, en lieu of a much desired food processor or even a mortar & pestle, I move full speed ahead, my tingling tongue reminding me there isn't a moment to waste.
Positioning one of my heaviest and most daunting of cleavers above two handfuls of unsuspecting almonds, I begin the daunting maneuver; and, soon enough, I even begin to enjoy their slight crunch against the bamboo board.
The project does not take long, but between the manual grinding and mixing ( to which my arms have felt, most keenly, the absence of a recently departed blender) I exit the kitchen, roused from my morning ambitions, and eager to sample its result.
Forty minutes later, a warm perfume of cornmeal, toasted almonds and orange fill my home.
The result- celestial. The cake is both crunchy and sweet with welcome bits of chewy cranberries and orange rind. Embracing both the efforts and profound result in taste and texture, I congratulate both myself and the masterminds of the recipe, whoever and wherever they may be.
So, do try this one at home, for a company of others or simply for the company of oneself!
bon appetit!
Orange Polenta Cake:
For Caramel Orange Layer:
*I omitted the caramel orange layer from my reproduction of the cake, but it was still supremely delicious!
1/2 c. granulated sugar
2 Tbsp water
2 Tbsp unsalted butter, cut into bits
2 naval oranges
For Cake:
1 3/4 sticks unsalted butter, softened
1 c. granulated sugar
3 large eggs
2 tsp orange flower water (I omitted)
1/2 c. flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
2 c. ground almonds
2/3 c. quick-cooking polenta
For Glaze:
1/4 c. orange marmalade
1 Tbsp water
Make caramel orange layer:
Preheat oven to 350 deg. F. Lightly butter 9-in. round cake pan, then line with parchment paper.
Bring sugar & water to boil in small sauce pan over med. heat, stirring until sugar has dissolved. Boil until dark amber in color. Remove from heat, add butter and quickly pour into cake pan. Grate orange zest of two oranges and set aside for cake. Cut oranges crosswise and arrange slices in 1 layer over caramel.
Make cake:
Beat butter with sugar until combined. Add eggs, one at a time. Mix in orange flower water and zest.
Whisk together flour, baking powder and salt. With mixer at low speed, add almonds, polenta, and flour mixture into egg mixture until just combined.
Spread batter evenly over caramel and orange slices. Bake until inserted wooden pick comes out clean. 1- 1 1/4 hrs. Cool 5 minutes and invert to cake plate. Remove parchment.
Make glaze:
Heat marmalade and water until melted. Brush top of cake with glaze and serve warm!
For breakfast :)
8 a.m.
Scrounging around my pantry, numb to the usual granola, oatmeal and much beloved huevos rancheros...
9 a.m.
Still sipping black coffee, much distressed over my sans cream situation, too lazy to slip into a pair of jeans and drive to the market to replenish supply..
9:30
Flipping through Gourmet, discover Orange Polenta Cake, dripping in orange marmalade glaze.
Quickly scan recipe.
Pajama toes to action!
Whipping around the corner and into the kitchen, I fling myself upon various cabinets, and discover:
1 c. of yellow corn meal, life expiration of April 2009. I look to the calendar. March 18, 2009.
I think to myself,
sad little bag,
you are just what I need,
the delights you may bring,
may far exceed,
all that I
had prior believed!
Hm, not much of a poet, I see. 'Tis sad, but so.
I discover eggs, flour, baking powder and salt and throw in a 1/4 c. of dried cranberries for good measure. I tackle the fridge, which, much to my relief, possesses two sticks of butter and one jar of orange marmalade. I grab a bag of almonds, flinching momentarily at the word ground that stares up at me from its glossy page.
However, en lieu of a much desired food processor or even a mortar & pestle, I move full speed ahead, my tingling tongue reminding me there isn't a moment to waste.
Positioning one of my heaviest and most daunting of cleavers above two handfuls of unsuspecting almonds, I begin the daunting maneuver; and, soon enough, I even begin to enjoy their slight crunch against the bamboo board.
The project does not take long, but between the manual grinding and mixing ( to which my arms have felt, most keenly, the absence of a recently departed blender) I exit the kitchen, roused from my morning ambitions, and eager to sample its result.
Forty minutes later, a warm perfume of cornmeal, toasted almonds and orange fill my home.
The result- celestial. The cake is both crunchy and sweet with welcome bits of chewy cranberries and orange rind. Embracing both the efforts and profound result in taste and texture, I congratulate both myself and the masterminds of the recipe, whoever and wherever they may be.
So, do try this one at home, for a company of others or simply for the company of oneself!
bon appetit!
Orange Polenta Cake:
For Caramel Orange Layer:
*I omitted the caramel orange layer from my reproduction of the cake, but it was still supremely delicious!
1/2 c. granulated sugar
2 Tbsp water
2 Tbsp unsalted butter, cut into bits
2 naval oranges
For Cake:
1 3/4 sticks unsalted butter, softened
1 c. granulated sugar
3 large eggs
2 tsp orange flower water (I omitted)
1/2 c. flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
2 c. ground almonds
2/3 c. quick-cooking polenta
For Glaze:
1/4 c. orange marmalade
1 Tbsp water
Make caramel orange layer:
Preheat oven to 350 deg. F. Lightly butter 9-in. round cake pan, then line with parchment paper.
Bring sugar & water to boil in small sauce pan over med. heat, stirring until sugar has dissolved. Boil until dark amber in color. Remove from heat, add butter and quickly pour into cake pan. Grate orange zest of two oranges and set aside for cake. Cut oranges crosswise and arrange slices in 1 layer over caramel.
Make cake:
Beat butter with sugar until combined. Add eggs, one at a time. Mix in orange flower water and zest.
Whisk together flour, baking powder and salt. With mixer at low speed, add almonds, polenta, and flour mixture into egg mixture until just combined.
Spread batter evenly over caramel and orange slices. Bake until inserted wooden pick comes out clean. 1- 1 1/4 hrs. Cool 5 minutes and invert to cake plate. Remove parchment.
Make glaze:
Heat marmalade and water until melted. Brush top of cake with glaze and serve warm!
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Down on the Farm
A certain avocado jogged my memory today, to one balmy evening in Ojai, California from a summer past.
The avocado I speak of, at present, I purchased from a local farmer's market in Houston, Texas. Not expecting anything extraordinarily different from this particular piece of fruit, my senses were jolted upon my first bite of its fragrant, green flesh. The avocado burst forth with an earthy aroma of lilacs on my tongue. Slightly shocked, I turned my head for a quick scan of my surrounding flowers, but to no avail. I bit into another slice. Lilacs, again, flitted across my tongue.
I was utterly delighted with such an exquisite avocado, and its creator's surprisingly delicious compost selection.
Needless to say, the experience jolted my memory to a previous meal, shared between my mother and myself, that offered delightfully surprising results from unsuspecting food candidates.
The meal took place on a balmy evening, in a home situated amongst orange and lemon orchards, in Ojai, California. My mother and I had spent our morning carousing through the local farmers market, sampling ancho-chile spiced dark chocolate, a micro biotic Jungle Ice Cream, sweetened with local honey, and a variety of goat cheeses: cheddar goat cheese, soft goat cheese, hard, nutty-flavored goat cheese reminiscent of asiago.
With pockets not quite deep enough to leave with everything we saw and tasted, we left the market with one bunch of dandelion greens, one bunch of multi-colored nasturtiums, a 4-ounce container of walnuts and a chunk of the crumbly feta-like goat cheese.
My addition to our salad that evening, an avocado I plucked myself, from the tree outside my bedroom window. And, a citrus-vinaigrette, made with the juices of one orange and one lemon from the surrounding orchards.
The salad was truly something to be marveled; from the peppery crunch of the dandelion greens, sweet, creamy goat cheese and earth-flavored flesh of avocado, to the physical splendor of red, purple and orange nasturtium blossoms. Not to mention, a vinaigrette worth drinking, both sweet and tart, from the freshly-squeezed juices of orange of lemon.
Thinking back to the evening, of my mother and myself, sipping rose and dining on the stems of my childhood bouquets, my heart fills with supreme gratitude; for earth's many blessings and the sharing of these blessings with the very best of company!
Mama's Farmer Salad:
serves 3
1 bunch of dandelion greens
1 bunch of nasturtiums
A handful of spinach leaves
1 avocado, sliced
1 handful walnuts
2 ounces crumbly goat cheese
Citrus Vinaigrette:
1/2 orange, freshly-squeezed
1/2 lemon, freshly-squeezed
1/3 c. good olive oil
ground black pepper
The avocado I speak of, at present, I purchased from a local farmer's market in Houston, Texas. Not expecting anything extraordinarily different from this particular piece of fruit, my senses were jolted upon my first bite of its fragrant, green flesh. The avocado burst forth with an earthy aroma of lilacs on my tongue. Slightly shocked, I turned my head for a quick scan of my surrounding flowers, but to no avail. I bit into another slice. Lilacs, again, flitted across my tongue.
I was utterly delighted with such an exquisite avocado, and its creator's surprisingly delicious compost selection.
Needless to say, the experience jolted my memory to a previous meal, shared between my mother and myself, that offered delightfully surprising results from unsuspecting food candidates.
The meal took place on a balmy evening, in a home situated amongst orange and lemon orchards, in Ojai, California. My mother and I had spent our morning carousing through the local farmers market, sampling ancho-chile spiced dark chocolate, a micro biotic Jungle Ice Cream, sweetened with local honey, and a variety of goat cheeses: cheddar goat cheese, soft goat cheese, hard, nutty-flavored goat cheese reminiscent of asiago.
With pockets not quite deep enough to leave with everything we saw and tasted, we left the market with one bunch of dandelion greens, one bunch of multi-colored nasturtiums, a 4-ounce container of walnuts and a chunk of the crumbly feta-like goat cheese.
My addition to our salad that evening, an avocado I plucked myself, from the tree outside my bedroom window. And, a citrus-vinaigrette, made with the juices of one orange and one lemon from the surrounding orchards.
The salad was truly something to be marveled; from the peppery crunch of the dandelion greens, sweet, creamy goat cheese and earth-flavored flesh of avocado, to the physical splendor of red, purple and orange nasturtium blossoms. Not to mention, a vinaigrette worth drinking, both sweet and tart, from the freshly-squeezed juices of orange of lemon.
Thinking back to the evening, of my mother and myself, sipping rose and dining on the stems of my childhood bouquets, my heart fills with supreme gratitude; for earth's many blessings and the sharing of these blessings with the very best of company!
Mama's Farmer Salad:
serves 3
1 bunch of dandelion greens
1 bunch of nasturtiums
A handful of spinach leaves
1 avocado, sliced
1 handful walnuts
2 ounces crumbly goat cheese
Citrus Vinaigrette:
1/2 orange, freshly-squeezed
1/2 lemon, freshly-squeezed
1/3 c. good olive oil
ground black pepper
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Heavenly Crepes
Crepe-alicious!
Ever crave something and magically, poof, as if by fate, you find yourself in some omniscient, foodie god's favor? I encountered such fateful parallels recently, on the receipt of Martha Stewart's February issue of Living magazine.
Having discovered a fabulous restaurant in the midtown area of Houston, Texas, known as Coco's Crepes and Coffee, I find too often, my thoughts revolving and taste buds salivating for a bite of one of Coco's legendary savory crepes; the earthy flavor of goat cheese sandwiched between roasted tomatoes, zucchini, mushrooms and squash all wrapped up a slightly sweet whole-wheat crepe, topped with a warm, roasted red pepper aioli...mmmm...could anything be sweeter? Such moments reveal to me, that heaven may be a place on earth after all.
So, when I opened to Martha's article titled, Crepes 101, I could almost hear the far tinkling of angels' heralding my good fortune.
In the article, Martha offers a recipe for basic crepes, as well as a buckwheat variation, which she suggests for savory combinations. And, while I prefer the savory creations to the typical sweet, nutella variety, she includes a recipe for crepes banana foster, that looks almost too good to be true, with warm, fattened bananas nestled in a puddle of sweetened rum, vanilla and brown sugar.
And, to share the food fortune bestowed upon me, I leave unto all of you, the recipes that leave me weak in the knees.
Bon appetit!
Basic Crepes
makes 32 six-inch or 12 ten-inch crepes
1 3/4 c. all purpose flour
1/2 tsp. coarse salt
2 c. whole milk, room temp.
3 large eggs, room temp.
2 1/2 oz. (5 tablespoons) unsalted butter, room temp.
1. Sift flour and salt in large bowl.
2. Whisk milk and eggs together in med. bowl.
3. Pour milk mixture into large flour mixture, whisking to combine.
4. Whisk in butter and refrigerate mixture for 2 hrs.
*Batter should be consistency of heavy cream; add more milk if necessary.
5. Heat 8- or 12-in. nonstick skillet over med. heat, and brush with butter.
6. Ladle 3 Tb (for small crepes) or 1/3 c. batter (for large crepes) into pan, turning and tilting skillet to coat evenly. Cook until top appears set, bottom is golden brown, and center is lifted by pockets of air, about 1 min.
7. Run spatula around edges to loosen, slip spatula under crepe, and flip in one swift gesture. Cook about 45 sec. more, until bottom is firm.
8. Transfer to plate, and cover.
9. Repeat with remaining batter, brushing pan with butter every 2 or 3 crepes.
For buckwheat variation:
Substitute 3/4 c. buckwheat flour for all purpose flour, and add an additional 3/4 c. whole milk.
Bananas Foster Crepes
serves 4
1 1/2 oz. (3 tablespoons) unsalted butter
1/2 c. dark-brown sugar
2 ripe bananas
1/8 tsp. ground cinnamon
pinch of salt
pinch of ground nutmeg
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1/4 c. dark rum
4 basic small crepes (see basic recipe)
1/2 c. creme fraiche
1. Warm butter and sugar in saute pan over med. heat until butter melts.
2. Add bananas, cinnamon, salt, nutmeg, and vanilla, and cook, stirring, for 1-2 min. Remove pan from heat, add rum.
3. Return to heat, light with long match, and cook until flames stop.
4. Divide bananas among crepes, fold each crepe in half, then fold in half again.
5. Drizzle with reserved sauce, and top with creme fraiche!
For more crepe recipes, visit www.marthastewart.com.
Ever crave something and magically, poof, as if by fate, you find yourself in some omniscient, foodie god's favor? I encountered such fateful parallels recently, on the receipt of Martha Stewart's February issue of Living magazine.
Having discovered a fabulous restaurant in the midtown area of Houston, Texas, known as Coco's Crepes and Coffee, I find too often, my thoughts revolving and taste buds salivating for a bite of one of Coco's legendary savory crepes; the earthy flavor of goat cheese sandwiched between roasted tomatoes, zucchini, mushrooms and squash all wrapped up a slightly sweet whole-wheat crepe, topped with a warm, roasted red pepper aioli...mmmm...could anything be sweeter? Such moments reveal to me, that heaven may be a place on earth after all.
So, when I opened to Martha's article titled, Crepes 101, I could almost hear the far tinkling of angels' heralding my good fortune.
In the article, Martha offers a recipe for basic crepes, as well as a buckwheat variation, which she suggests for savory combinations. And, while I prefer the savory creations to the typical sweet, nutella variety, she includes a recipe for crepes banana foster, that looks almost too good to be true, with warm, fattened bananas nestled in a puddle of sweetened rum, vanilla and brown sugar.
And, to share the food fortune bestowed upon me, I leave unto all of you, the recipes that leave me weak in the knees.
Bon appetit!
Basic Crepes
makes 32 six-inch or 12 ten-inch crepes
1 3/4 c. all purpose flour
1/2 tsp. coarse salt
2 c. whole milk, room temp.
3 large eggs, room temp.
2 1/2 oz. (5 tablespoons) unsalted butter, room temp.
1. Sift flour and salt in large bowl.
2. Whisk milk and eggs together in med. bowl.
3. Pour milk mixture into large flour mixture, whisking to combine.
4. Whisk in butter and refrigerate mixture for 2 hrs.
*Batter should be consistency of heavy cream; add more milk if necessary.
5. Heat 8- or 12-in. nonstick skillet over med. heat, and brush with butter.
6. Ladle 3 Tb (for small crepes) or 1/3 c. batter (for large crepes) into pan, turning and tilting skillet to coat evenly. Cook until top appears set, bottom is golden brown, and center is lifted by pockets of air, about 1 min.
7. Run spatula around edges to loosen, slip spatula under crepe, and flip in one swift gesture. Cook about 45 sec. more, until bottom is firm.
8. Transfer to plate, and cover.
9. Repeat with remaining batter, brushing pan with butter every 2 or 3 crepes.
For buckwheat variation:
Substitute 3/4 c. buckwheat flour for all purpose flour, and add an additional 3/4 c. whole milk.
Bananas Foster Crepes
serves 4
1 1/2 oz. (3 tablespoons) unsalted butter
1/2 c. dark-brown sugar
2 ripe bananas
1/8 tsp. ground cinnamon
pinch of salt
pinch of ground nutmeg
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1/4 c. dark rum
4 basic small crepes (see basic recipe)
1/2 c. creme fraiche
1. Warm butter and sugar in saute pan over med. heat until butter melts.
2. Add bananas, cinnamon, salt, nutmeg, and vanilla, and cook, stirring, for 1-2 min. Remove pan from heat, add rum.
3. Return to heat, light with long match, and cook until flames stop.
4. Divide bananas among crepes, fold each crepe in half, then fold in half again.
5. Drizzle with reserved sauce, and top with creme fraiche!
For more crepe recipes, visit www.marthastewart.com.
Monday, February 23, 2009
To Epicurus, with Thanks
A lover of words as well as food, I begin my blog, in appreciation, to those fore founders of definitive thought and reason.
To Epicurus: who believed and taught that the highest good is that of personal happiness & who gave definition to the selective group of people known as gourmands, who seek pleasure and indulgence in our food, drink and life!
On the eve of this past New Year, I packed my bags, with boots and suits (swim) and a hearty appetite, for truly authentic Spanish cuisine and mouthwatering barbecue. With bibs and sis in tow, and dreams of sticky fingers, I put the keys in the ignition and set off for the proud, great state of Texas! Yeehaw!
Upon arrival, we were greeted with a beef brisket so tender, it nearly melted on our tongues and pork tamales, sweet from recent steamings in banana leaves. Despite our east-coast allegiances and better judgement, we swooned, in love with a new cuisine.
Our second day, we dined on Swiss chard and sweet potato enchiladas topped with a sweet chili sauce and crunchy pumpkin seeds.
Our third, on Texas style cheese-steaks, tenderly ground with sweet onion and a teriyaki-dijon mustard that we sopped up with the remaining pieces of our giant, potato hoagie rolls.
Four days and two months later, I am still here.
A twist on the Swiss chard and sweet potato enchiladas I've found along the way:
Sweet Potato Enchiladas with Garlic & Walnuts
1 1/2 c. mashed sweet potatoes
1 head roasted garlic
1/4 cup toasted walnuts
Salt and pepper to taste
1 pkg. corn tortillas
1/4 c. feta cheese
1 c. salsa Verde or red enchilada sauce
Cut top off of roasted garlic head and squeeze to remove garlic from skin. Mash together with sweet potatoes, mix in nuts, salt and pepper to taste. Heat 1 tablespoon oil in a small skillet and cook corn tortillas individually in oil until softened, draining on a paper towel. Take one tortilla and spread a spoonful of filling down the length of the tortilla, left of the center. Sprinkle a bit of feta cheese. Fold shorter (left) side overfilling, then roll up and place in a greased, square baking pan.
Continue with the rest of tortillas and filling. Pour salsa Verde or red enchilada sauce over enchiladas. Cover with tin foil and bake at 375 degrees for about 20 minutes. Remove foil and bake 10 more minutes.
Top with crumbled, toasted walnuts, creme fraiche and cilantro.
To Epicurus: who believed and taught that the highest good is that of personal happiness & who gave definition to the selective group of people known as gourmands, who seek pleasure and indulgence in our food, drink and life!
On the eve of this past New Year, I packed my bags, with boots and suits (swim) and a hearty appetite, for truly authentic Spanish cuisine and mouthwatering barbecue. With bibs and sis in tow, and dreams of sticky fingers, I put the keys in the ignition and set off for the proud, great state of Texas! Yeehaw!
Upon arrival, we were greeted with a beef brisket so tender, it nearly melted on our tongues and pork tamales, sweet from recent steamings in banana leaves. Despite our east-coast allegiances and better judgement, we swooned, in love with a new cuisine.
Our second day, we dined on Swiss chard and sweet potato enchiladas topped with a sweet chili sauce and crunchy pumpkin seeds.
Our third, on Texas style cheese-steaks, tenderly ground with sweet onion and a teriyaki-dijon mustard that we sopped up with the remaining pieces of our giant, potato hoagie rolls.
Four days and two months later, I am still here.
A twist on the Swiss chard and sweet potato enchiladas I've found along the way:
Sweet Potato Enchiladas with Garlic & Walnuts
1 1/2 c. mashed sweet potatoes
1 head roasted garlic
1/4 cup toasted walnuts
Salt and pepper to taste
1 pkg. corn tortillas
1/4 c. feta cheese
1 c. salsa Verde or red enchilada sauce
Cut top off of roasted garlic head and squeeze to remove garlic from skin. Mash together with sweet potatoes, mix in nuts, salt and pepper to taste. Heat 1 tablespoon oil in a small skillet and cook corn tortillas individually in oil until softened, draining on a paper towel. Take one tortilla and spread a spoonful of filling down the length of the tortilla, left of the center. Sprinkle a bit of feta cheese. Fold shorter (left) side overfilling, then roll up and place in a greased, square baking pan.
Continue with the rest of tortillas and filling. Pour salsa Verde or red enchilada sauce over enchiladas. Cover with tin foil and bake at 375 degrees for about 20 minutes. Remove foil and bake 10 more minutes.
Top with crumbled, toasted walnuts, creme fraiche and cilantro.
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