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Archive for March, 2009

just what you need

chocolate truffles

OK. Next time I say I want to make bread pudding, taken from some random Web site I’ve never heard of before, just so I can use up my loaf of bread that hardened two days after I bought it?

Stop me.

If you do, I might be able to write a better post than this one, in which I will just tell you that, Yes, I did in fact spend a disproportionate amount of time tonight caramelizing sugar and softening bread cubes to layer with a creamy custard in a tube pan that would then, tragically, leak all over and around the oven liner, meaning not only that the bread pudding was a disaster but so was the kitchen and myself.

And, Yes, also, after I did all this, I would still head up to my computer, flicking on its glowing screen and gentle humming sound, just because, even at almost 11 PM, I’d know I’d planned to sit down and write something interesting about the dark chocolate truffles I made for Carrie’s and Alicia’s birthday presents, and, by gosh, that stupid bread pudding wasn’t going to stop me.

Tell me you’ve had nights like this?

making truffles

I really should be sleeping right now, and heaven knows I’ll regret my stubbornness in the morning, but, I figure, maybe you’re up, too? Just today alone, I heard more than one person tell me how frustrating life’s been and how they feel a little lost, confused, unsure of the future. I’ve never been very good at giving advice in situations like those, mostly because everything I could tell them I should be telling myself (and also because, in these cases, the people were talented, funny and good-hearted ones, and if either is reading: When I don’t seem worried about your future, it’s not because I don’t care but because I know you and have all the confidence in the world in you).

Anyway, I’m better with food.

So to make up for every bad day, every bad recipe, every agonizing hour spent washing dishes for meals you didn’t want to eat, I offer this: homemade chocolate truffles. These desserts are wonderfully decadent, everything a truffle should be. They are easy enough to do with children and impressive enough to give to adults.

truffles

The moment you bite into the rich, milky darkness of the base, with its flecks of hardened chocolate and dense, creamy texture, things will be looking better, I swear. You can roll them in anything you’d like—I chose alternating dusts of cocoa, bright chopped pistachios or bits of thin almonds—but you might like a blend of cinnamon and sugar or something else.

As gifts, I lined them in mini paper cups, set in ordered rows inside white paper boxes, wrapped with brown ribbon, and I brought them to dinner Monday night, to give as birthday gifts on a night when I tried sushi for the first time, with three people I work with and enjoy.

truffles

Dark Chocolate Truffles
Loosely adapted from Allchocolate.com

I read so many truffle recipes before adapting/creating this one, which has the same basic ingredients as the original but a totally different set of instructions that are easier and faster (if I do say so).

I’d recommend setting separate sets of spoons by each plate of topping–that way you won’t be mixing anything if you switch around. Oh, and don’t skip the latex gloves—they make the process a snap to get through and to clean up afterward.

Ingredients:
12 ounces semisweet chocolate chips
1 cup heavy cream
pinch of salt
1 ½ teaspoons pure vanilla extract

Suggested Toppings:
Sifted cocoa powder
Shelled and chopped pistachios
Shelled and chopped almonds

Directions:
Place chocolate chips in medium-sized bowl and set aside.

Combine heavy cream and pinch of salt in saucepan and heat over medium-low heat until nearly simmering; add vanilla. Pour hot liquid over chocolate chips and stir mixture until totally smooth. Refrigerate, tightly covered, for about three hours or until firm.

After the mixture has chilled, remove from refrigerator and create plates of chosen toppings. Wearing latex gloves and using two spoons, scoop out rounded sections of the chocolate into palms and form into balls. Use spoons to roll each ball in the topping of your choice and place on a separate plate or in a container. Makes around three dozen truffles.

Chill until firm, about 1 hour. Do ahead: Can be made 1 week ahead. Store in airtight container and keep chilled. Let stand at room temperature 1 hour before serving.

The Best Pizza in Chicago. Period.

spacca outside

spacca napoli from inside

While it’s true Chicago is traditionally known for its deep-dish pizza, I’m going to let you in on a little secret: this city makes a mean Neapolitan-style. Especially at Spacca Napoli.

Back in the days when we were trying every local bakery, my brother and I were also on a months-long quest to find the best pizza in Chicago, having gotten the idea from Chicago Magazine, which did a write-up on all the Neapolitan-style pizzerias in and around the city.

What I didn’t expect from this experiment, as a girl who has been known to crave frozen Tombstones from the grocery store, was that it would revolutionize the way I felt about pizza—not that I would stop liking the cheap kinds on lazy weeknights, but that, after having the smoky, thinner style considered a trademark in Italy, I would love this other kind much more.

Here’s how it’s made: A simple, thin round of dough is topped and slid into a hot, hot stone oven (we’re talking over 900 degrees Fahrenheit) and baked for less than two minutes over an oak-wood fire. When it emerges, the result is crispy, but not like a cracker—more chewy and tender, with a swollen lip around the edges and a wet, cheesy center. If done right, the pizza will have faint hints of char from the fast heat and punches of fragrance from the tomatoes. At Spacca Napoli in Chicago’s Ravenswood neighborhood, a pizzeria owned by Jonathan Goldsmith, pizzas are baked in an oven actually made in Naples, Italy, which cooks at 1200 (!) degrees Fahrenheit, amidst light golden walls with black and white photographs.

spacca napoli sign

You know, the law of averages says the more times you go to a restaurant, the greater your chances of having a bad experience. Yet, for me, the opposite has been true. Every visit gets better, from the winter night last February, when the restaurant seemed packed, but we were seated in five minutes, to the summer when we took our friend Sonja, my college roommate who was coming through town for a few days, and we sat and talked, leisurely, on a slow afternoon.

pizza margherita

pizza

spacca napoli

I’ve been putting off posting about this place because, honestly, I didn’t think I could write about it without over-gushing.

However. After a recent Saturday when we capped off pizzas with risotto gelato, a sweet, creamy base with hints of vanilla and tiny bits of chewy risotto mixed throughout, the sound of the Andrews Sisters and Ella Fitzgerald in the background, I realized it was finally time. I couldn’t keep this to myself any longer.

ristotto gelato

And, throwing caution to the wind, I’ll just tell you this: I love this restaurant. I love the food, the service, the way it’s always busy at nights but always able to seat me. It is the #1 place I take friends. And if I could find a job down the street, I would move there, in a heartbeat, just to walk by its orange-colored exterior, inhaling its fresh, yeasty dough, looking in at its charming dining area, ready for another slice.





Spacca Napoli
Ravenswood, Chicago

1769 West Sunnyside
Chicago, IL 60640
773.878.2420
http://spaccanapolipizzeria.com/

Open Daily Lunch (W – Sat) and Dinner (Tues – Sun)

Lunch Hours: 11:30 a.m. – 3:00 p.m. (W – Sat)
Dinner Hours: 5:00 p.m. – 9:00 p.m. (Tues – Thu)
5:00 p.m. – 10:00 p.m. (Fri – Sat)
12:00 Noon – 9:00 p.m. (Sunday)

a word of advice

comforting carrot soup

If you don’t want anything in your life to change, say, for example, your food stereotypes?

Don’t read this book.

Because if you do, one chapter in, you might start saying things like, Maybe I could like mushrooms! Or fish! Or pickles! And so you will, try some of those things, I mean, after a lifetime of not, and you won’t hate them, not even a little, and you’ll suddenly see an entire world of menus and restaurant options that you’ve always overlooked, and, really, everything will change.

Now the second thing (which could seem unrelated): If you buy a birthday present six months early, don’t, please, make that present be for me.

Because if you do, you could be talking to me one night, about something simple like what what you did that day, while I eat forkfuls of tender pot roast and whipped mashed potatoes, and just randomly, I’ll tell you, You know, I think I’m going to buy a Le Creuset French oven next week, and you won’t be able to hold it in, that you bought me one, so within minutes, I’ll be opening the big box, uncovering the cream-colored, beautiful, beautiful cast-iron pot inside, ruining the surprise. And I will have to make something in it, right away.

(While we’re talking about my Le Creuset, which my wonderful plan-ahead mom had planned to give me in August, I may as well show you a picture:)

lucy le creuset

Isn’t she lovely? I’m thinking of naming her Lucy.

Anyway, the pot isn’t really the purpose of this post—I just really like talking about it—but the thing I made inside the pot is: creamy, comforting carrot soup.

This soup is the kind of recipe I would normally pass on: its primary ingredient is a vegetable, carrots, no less. I mean, you know that I like carrots in a French slaw, but in soup? A lot of times, soups tend to concentrate flavors, strengthening their power, which, if we’re honest, could be the very last thing you’d want to happen to carrots.

However. This soup is good. Like, insanely good. So much so that I am completely and totally happy it was the first thing Lucy made (that sounds weird, now reconsidering the name thing). It is creamy and sweet, comforting on your throat and your stomach. You’ll recognize the earthy taste of carrot, but along with it are hints of spicy clove and punches of sauteed onions and garlic.

I ate two bowls of this soup, right away. It’s wonderful with swirls of cream and bits of chopped parsley on top, where each fragrant, colorful bite dissolves on your tongue and sends warmth through your body. It’s healthy, as the recipes have been this week, but, more importantly, it’s delicious, and, really, that kind of change is worth finding, anytime.




Carrot Soup
Adapted from Bon Appetit, May 1996

Ingredients:
1 Tablespoon olive oil
1 pound carrots, peeled, sliced
1/2 large onion, finely chopped
3 garlic cloves, peeled
3 whole cloves
2 cups (about) canned chicken broth, stock (or water or vegetable stock)
1/2 Tablespoon fresh lemon juice
Pinch of sugar

1/8 cup chilled whipping cream
Chopped fresh parsley

Directions:
Heat oil in heavy large saucepan over medium heat. Add carrots, onion, garlic and cloves, and sauté until onion is translucent, about 8 minutes. Add 1 1/2 cups broth. Cover and simmer until carrots are very soft, stirring occasionally, about 30 minutes.

Remove cloves from broth and discard. Puree soup in batches in blender (or with stick blender in pan). Return soup to same saucepan. Mix in lemon juice and sugar. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Thin to desired consistency with more broth. (Can be prepared 1 day ahead. Cover and refrigerate.)

Whisk cream in medium bowl just until slightly thickened, about 10 seconds.

Stir soup over medium heat until heated through. Ladle into bowls. Drizzle cream over. Top with parsley. Serves 3 to 4.