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Archive for September, 2008

Trust & Cooking

cinnamon roll dough
One of the fringe benefits of starting a food blog, I’m finding, is that people start to think you can cook. Even my mom, herself Chef Extraordinaire, asked if she could e-mail me recipes from time to time. (This is high praise, indeed.)

She told me the other day that she never expected this, me to enjoy food. My brother was the born chef; I used to hate the kitchen. She said it with pride in her voice, like she, finally, knew I was indeed her child, having inherited not just her stubbornness but her skill. She asked me to bake a cake for her friend, she sent me the recipe for a marinade. And then, one Saturday afternoon, while I was standing next to her in the kitchen, she told me to flip her burgers while she went outside. You’d have to know her to understand, but this was a Very Big Deal. Mom doesn’t entrust cooking duties to anyone. This was, essentially, the equivalent of Here are the Keys to The Mustang or Take the Pin Number to my ATM. This was trust.

fresh cinnamon rolls

Just between us—I mean, don’t tell her—but I’m no better of a cook than I ever was. I still forget things are in the oven sometimes, meaning six charred cookies land in the trash. I still cook things that even I don’t want to eat. I still have to ask a lot of questions—of myself, the Internet, friends—before I think I understand. Maybe I’m learning a little, but the burn marks on my left-hand fingers show this process is a slow one.

Sometimes there are happy accidents. Sometimes recipes are so wonderful, they make me look like I know what I’m doing. These are the ones I like. And this is one of those recipes.

cinnamon rolls inverted

Tomorrow is Saturday, and whatever your breakfast plans: change them. You want to make these cinnamon rolls—trust me. With a little work, a little patience, a little trust, you’ll find these doughy pastries completely worthy of your faith, and everyone you give them to will, too. In fact, they’re so good, your family might begin to believe you’re a grand chef (I won’t tell if you don’t).

Declared as good as Cinnabon® by my brother and mmm-good by my co-workers, these cinnamon rolls are the creation of Molly Wizenberg, author of Orangette. They appeared in her Bon Appetit column in March and convinced me they were worthy of trying.

I’m glad I did, as they garnered me this compliment: You could be a baker! (Yes, THAT good. Shh! Don’t say a word!)

good good cinnamon rolls



*Hey, by the way, if you’re wanting another cinnamon roll recipe, you have to check out the ones I made Thanksgiving morning. They have pumpkin in them, but they’re not just for fall. AMAZING.



Cinnamon Rolls with Cream Cheese Glaze
from Bon Appetit

Dough:
1 cup whole milk
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
3 1/2 cups (or more) unbleached all purpose flour, divided
1/2 cup sugar
1 large egg
2 1/4 teaspoons rapid-rise yeast (from 2 envelopes yeast)
1 teaspoon salt
Nonstick vegetable oil spray

Filling:
3/4 cup (packed) golden brown sugar
2 tablespoons ground cinnamon
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature

Glaze:
4 ounces cream cheese, room temperature
1 cup powdered sugar
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Directions:

For dough:

Combine milk and butter in glass measuring cup. Microwave on high until butter melts and mixture is just warmed to 120°F to 130°F, 30 to 45 seconds. Pour into bowl of stand mixer fitted with paddle attachment. Add 1 cup flour, sugar, egg, yeast, and salt. Beat on low speed 3 minutes, stopping occasionally to scrape down sides of bowl. Add 21/2 cups flour. Beat on low until flour is absorbed and dough is sticky, scraping down sides of bowl. If dough is very sticky, add more flour by tablespoonfuls until dough begins to form ball and pulls away from sides of bowl. Turn dough out onto lightly floured work surface. Knead until smooth and elastic, adding more flour if sticky, about 8 minutes. Form into ball.

Lightly oil large bowl with nonstick spray. Transfer dough to bowl, turning to coat. Cover bowl with plastic wrap, then kitchen towel. Let dough rise in warm draft-free area until doubled in volume, about 2 hours.

For filling:
Mix brown sugar and cinnamon in medium bowl.

Punch down dough. Transfer to floured work surface. Roll out to 15×11-inch rectangle. Spread butter over dough, leaving 1/2-inch border. Sprinkle cinnamon sugar evenly over butter. Starting at 1 long side, roll dough into log, pinching gently to keep it rolled up. With seam side down, cut dough crosswise with thin sharp knife into 18 equal slices (each about 1/2 to 3/4 inch wide).

Spray two 9-inch square glass baking dishes with nonstick spray. Divide rolls between baking dishes, arranging cut side up (there will be almost no space between rolls). Cover baking dishes with plastic wrap, then kitchen towel. Let dough rise in warm draft-free area until almost doubled in volume, 40 to 45 minutes.

Position rack in center of oven and preheat to 375°F. Bake rolls until tops are golden, about 20 minutes. Remove from oven and invert immediately onto rack. Cool 10 minutes. Turn rolls right side up.

For glaze:
Combine cream cheese, powdered sugar, butter, and vanilla in medium bowl. Using electric mixer, beat until smooth. Spread glaze on rolls. Serve warm or at room temperature.

[apologies, again]

This is not a story about my Saturday baking, which I was looking forward to all Friday, knowing I’d have an entire day with nothing planned and free reign of the kitchen all to myself. It’s not about the new recipes I wanted to try, including the cookies that were to have been made with fresh lavender picked from the backyard. Because instead I came down with a horrendous sinus issue that morning, after (or just before) eating brunch at my favorite breakfast place and catching a movie, on what was really one of the most beautiful, weather-wise, days all year. It was like my eyes, my ears, my temples, my cheeks, my neck, my shoulders all were joining forces against me, a mutiny against the changing temperatures and accompanying allergies. Coming home, I put cold compresses on my eyes, took medication, applied Vicks to the bottoms of my feet and bundled them in thick socks, drank hot tea and read online about other people who felt just as blue.

Unexpected to me (as is most of my life, it seems), this is a post about soup. Chicken Noodle Soup. The soup you make when your head feels larger than the rest of your body and you realize you won’t get anything done today and there is nothing, not even the promise of fresh produce and store-bought bakery, that will make you want to leave your home that day or even, you’d swear, ever again.

soup pot

This is the soup you make with what you have in your pantry, with improvisations and all kinds of tweaks and adjustments, the soup you make because you want it, you need it, if only to remember that there are warm, comforting things left in this world, things that are consistently good and happy, void of any throbbing pains or burning sensations. This is the soup that sends steaming, fragrant air through your kitchen, helping you breathe clearly again, calming your nasal passages.

The recipe is very flexible, and you really only need three things: (1) Broth, prepackaged or made from bullion cubes or leftover chicken remains boiled with water; (2) Vegetables, which can be anything you want/have—carrots, celery, onions; (3) Seasonings, including herbs of your choice and maybe some salt/pepper to taste, though, personally, I find broth naturally salty enough.

Play with it; food should be fun. Especially when you’re sick. Especially on a Saturday. If you’re like me, you might also choose to fix up some garlic bread and croutons for the side. And as an added bonus, if you make this, your weather might just turn cold and rainy, perfect for cups of steaming soup, like it did here the very next day. I had some Monday night in the rainstorm, Tuesday lunch at work and will probably again tonight.

soup/bread



Chicken Noodle Soup
Adapted from Chew on That

Ingredients:
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium onion, chopped
3 garlic cloves, minced
2 medium carrots, cut diagonally into 1/2-inch-thick slices
1 tablespoon thyme
1 tablespoon chopped bay leaves
2 quarts chicken stock (I used chicken bullion that we had)
8 ounces pasta
1 1/2 cups shredded cooked chicken

Directions:
If you’re making your own chicken broth, do that first. Set aside. Place a soup pot over medium heat and coat with the olive oil. Add chopped onion, minced garlic, chopped carrots and seasonings. Cook and stir for about 6 minutes, until the vegetables are softened but not browned. Meanwhile, boil water in a separate pot and cook pasta according to package instructions. When slightly less than al dente, drain and set aside. Pour in the chicken stock and bring the liquid to a boil. Fold in the pasta and chicken, and continue to simmer for another couple of minutes to heat through.

Stollen in September

stollen dough

There’s a chill in the air in Chicago, a hopeful, exciting chill that hints of fall and golden leaves and hot, frothy drinks that you sip while wearing cozy sweaters. Wednesday, as I walked out of work, I breathed in the fresh, crisp breeze and caught the smell of something baking—doughnuts? bread? And as I drove home, even on the trafficked expressway, the air changed to barbeque (whatever restaurant was responsible for the aroma should package that smell and sell it. I would wait in line) then to deep-fried and then back to doughy. As it happens, this is also the time of year when traffic gets especially bad, a combination of construction and kids going back to school and no more summer hours. While cars inched forward, my windows down and my radio playing, I started dreaming about something warm and comforting from the oven. And by the time I pulled into my driveway, I knew I wanted fresh bread.

loaf of stollen

If you haven’t made fresh bread before, I bet I can guess why: it takes time. And kneading. And more time. And more kneading. All this work can seem pretty pointless when an artisan loaf at Dominick’s goes for $2.69. But can I suggest something? Just as there are times when one should grab the fresh-baked grocery bread, there are times when she should spend an evening in the kitchen.

You just can’t beat the feel of elastic dough in your hands, its texture changing beneath your fingers as you fold and push, fold and push again. I don’t get the urge to bake bread often (believe me!), but when I do, it’s insatiable. Wednesday night, I wanted a sweet bread and chose stollen, which is a traditional German Christmas bread, a sweet and yeasty creation filled with raisins and nuts and candies.

This recipe makes three loaves, and the slices will only be as sweet as you want them to be. The add-ins are really up to you; I used golden raisins, Zante currants and sliced almonds, but you may want crushed candies or extra raisins, or you may want to forgo on nuts altogether. It’s a delightful breakfast bread, a yummy snack and a perfect reminder of the coming fall (and then holiday!) season.

slice of stollen





Stollen
Recipe adapted from Better Homes & Gardens New Cookbook

Ingredients:
4 to 4 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 package active dry yeast
1/4 teaspoon ground cardamom
1 1/4 cup milk
1/2 cup butter (1 stick)
1/4 cup granulated stugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 egg
1 cup Zante currants
1/4 cup golden raisins
1/4 cup slivered almonds
The zest of one lemon

The Icing:
1 cup sifted powdered sugar
2 tablespoons hot water
1 teaspoon butter

Directions:
In a large mixing bowl, combine 2 cups of flour, yeast and cardamom. In a medium saucepan, heat and stir milk, the one stick of butter, granulated sugar and salt until butter almost melts. Add to flour mixture, along with the egg. Beat with an electric mixer on low speed for 30 seconds, scraping bowl constantly. Beat on high speed 3 minutes. Using a wooden spoon, stir in as much remaining flour as you can. Stir in raisins, currants, nuts, lemon zest.

Turn dough out onto a lighted floured surface. Knead in enough remaining flower to make a moderately soft dough (probably for about 3 to 5 minutes–aim to fold, push down with the heel of your hand and fold again; repeat). Shape into a ball. Place in a lightly greased bowl, turning once. Cover; let rise in a warm place until double in size.

Punch dough down (as in, literally punch it straight down in the center). Turn dough out onto a lightly floured surface. Divide dough into thirds. Cover; let rest for 10 minutes. Meanwhile, grease 2 large baking sheets; set aside.

Roll one dough portion into a 10×6-inch oval. Without stretching, fold a long side over to within one inch of the opposite side; press edges lightly to seal. Place on one of the baking sheets. Repeat with remaining dough portions, placing them on remaining baking sheet. Cover; let rise until nearly double (45 to 60 minutes).

Bake loaves in a 375-degree oven for 18 to 20 minutes, until golden and bread sounds hollow with lightly tapped. Remove from baking sheets. Cool 30 minutes on wire racks. In a small bowl, combine powdered sugar, hot water and the one teaspoon butter; brush over warm bread.