Posts from — May 2009

When I come home from church on Sunday afternoons, after meeting my friend Jackie for lunch, listening to her tell me stories about her fourth-grade class and the funny things they say, I kick off my shoes and pull up my hair and think about taking a long, comfortable nap, with blankets piled high, the windows open and the fresh breeze flowing in. But instead, for weeks in a row now, I’ve done no such thing. Instead, go figure, I’ve been baking cakes.

It all started when my brother told me about that coconut recipe he saw; then there was the yogurt I wanted to try baking with, although that might have been a weeknight; most recently, it was because I had a glass full of heavy cream about to go bad, and I didn’t want to waste it. These are simple excuses, not exactly the stuff of solid alibi, I know, but what can I say? Cakes are simple and satisfying—like cookies—and they don’t take much work, and, well, mostly, I am bad at turning them down, even when fresh sheets call my name.

For this last cake, I didn’t go in with high hopes, which is key to enjoying what you make, I find. This would just be something to use the heavy cream in, and I didn’t care how it was frosted or what I would do with it or who would eat it.

To start, I mixed the batter: eggs, sugar, flour, baking powder, salt, vanilla and, importantly, heavy cream. It’s the cream that gives the mixture its consistency: thick and velvety, the kind that holds its shape when you lift it from the bowl. I actually went back to the recipe a few times to make sure I hadn’t forgotten something, sure a batter this thick couldn’t be right. But after I’d spread it in the pan like frosting and baked it for half an hour, it emerged as something entirely different: a simple, fragrant, white cake that pulled away from the edges of the pan and fell easily onto a cooling rack.

This recipe is called a cream cake, which, beyond its obvious use of cream in the ingredients, simply means it is the kind usually filled and/or topped with some sort of cream or cream-like substance like a custard. I ate this cake—well, cakes, since it makes two layers—plain, sans frosting, and enjoyed every simple, sweet bite. But they’d be just as lovely with a homemade whipped cream, maybe with fresh berries on the side. I’d avoid buttercream, which would be too heavy with the rich texture, if you can.

Honestly, I had half a mind to go out to the store for some whipping cream to whip up right then, but, anticipating the following Sunday afternoon when I’d want to use up the leftovers, again, I stopped myself. So I hope you’ll try it that way for me? Do it whenever you’d like, Sunday afternoons or otherwise, and let me know what you think.

Cream Cake
Adapted from About.com

Like I said, because this was an impromptu decision, I didn’t plan for frosting, but I think you should. Homemade whipped cream is as simple as blending heavy cream in a bowl, set over another bowl filled with ice. (You can also just stick everything in a stand mixer [no ice], but it will take longer.) Once it’s starting to thicken, add around three Tablespoons of sugar and maybe a little vanilla for flavor and continue mixing.

Ingredients:
2 eggs
1 cup sugar
1 2/3 cups sifted all-purpose flour
2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
3/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup heavy cream
1 teaspoon vanilla

Directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. In the bowl of a stand mixer, beat eggs until thick and bright yellow; then add sugar.

In a separate bowl, sift together the dry ingredients. Add them, alternately with the cream and vanilla, beating well.

Spread batter into two 8-inch round pans—it will seem thicker than usual cake batter, but that is OK. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes, until a tester inserted in the center comes out clean.

Have you ever tried Spanish tapas? You should.

I say this as someone who, after trying tapas last month when we were in D.C., liked them so much that I was perfectly satisfied to have them again the next two nights. (And we did.) Also, since I’m making commands, here’s another for those of you in Chicago: when you’re in Lincoln Park, you really ought to visit Café Ba-Ba-Reeba.

See, tapas are perfect for people like me, who like to try many new things but might not have the stomach capacity to try a lot of each of those new things. Essentially, tapas are small plates, like appetizers: reduced portions that allow you to order a little of this, a little of that, sharing them all at the table, dipping your bread and taking spoonfuls of side dishes to your dish. You get the opportunity to taste not just one entrée but lots of little ones: it is grazing at its best.

As for Cafe Ba-Ba-Reeba, I first heard of it when I was going to school in Lincoln Park, then later when my brother visited with a friend and told me about it, and again when @CafeBaBaReeba started following me on Twitter. But it wasn’t until a few weeks ago that I actually stepped inside. At around 9:30 PM on a Saturday. Because the wait that night was over an hour, we ended up at nearby Nookies instead, which, by the way, is a great place for diner food on the weekends, since it’s open 24/7 on Fridays and Saturdays. But this last Saturday night, we had the chance to try Ba-Ba-Reeba again, this time with reservations made through OpenTable.com, which was a very good thing since the place was jam-packed just like before.

Cafe Ba-Ba-Reeba is part of the Lettuce Entertain You chain of restaurants, which includes popular Chicago destinations like Maggiano’s, Mon Ami Gabi, Big Bowl, Wildfire and Shaw’s Crab House. It provides a fun, crowded atmosphere that’s great for big parties: this weekend, there were at least three bachelorette/wedding groups, as well as many crowded tables, and a week earlier, when we didn’t stay, I heard a woman raving to the manager about how fantastic her friend’s 40th birthday dinner had gone. (Although, full disclosure, she was a little tipsy, so it could have been the sangria talking.)

Here are the small plates we tried: chicken curry salad made with sweet red grapes and spices reminiscent of Indian food; crispy spicy potatoes with sun-dried tomato alioli; baked goat cheese with tomato sauce and little toasts; sweet bacon-wrapped dates in a lovely apple vinaigrette; and, for dessert, a marcona caramel tart that was better than any pastry and a tiny dish of almond sorbet with amaretto.

On the down side, Ba-Ba-Reeba is loud (!), and there are just two single-person bathrooms, one for men and one for women, set right between the kitchen and wherever they take out trash, which is awkward when you’re waiting in line.

But on the plus side: the food! the variety! the experience! I liked it enough that I’m willing to post about it, even with these photos taken in dim lighting.

And when we walked outside afterward, the air still bright with daylight and the summer air turning slightly cooler, it was slowly, happily and with satisfaction.

Cafe Ba-Ba-Reeba

http://www.cafebabareeba.com/

2024 N. Halsted
Chicago, IL 60614
ph. (773) 935-5000

Well, here we are: Monday night.

Friday seems, honestly, like it was a minute ago to me—do you feel that way? It’s as if somehow the sum of everything—a fast dinner at Steak N’ Shake, $1.99 latte bowls at Anthropologie, a friend’s birthday brunch at one of my favorite places, Saturday movie marathons, bacon-wrapped dates, long walks in warm sunshine, free Starbucks, bunches of Cool Ranch Doritos, bonfires with homemade s’mores, couch-shopping, a lot of driving and two new pairs of shoes—doesn’t add up somehow.

No matter how well, or with how much, you fill three empty days, they still end, and you have to return to normal again. And, I don’t know about you, but I’d like to find a way around that reality.

No matter how we look at things, tomorrow is typical Tuesday morning, but then, that isn’t entirely bad. I mean, for one thing, this week will seem short. For another, this is still May, and whether you’re watching it from the inside of your office window or while standing in an open field, you can’t miss the beauty.

So let’s talk normal. Like everyday, routine, weeknights. Like dinner. Do you know what you’re having?

The people at Amazing Taste® recently sent me a box of their seasonings to try, ranging from chili to burgers to chicken fajitas, along with recipes. Before I even tried any, I already knew two things I liked about the packets: 1) They are extremely inexpensive, at $0.99 each, and 2) They are simple to use, usually requiring just a couple extra ingredients beyond meat and a few minimal instructions for assembly.

To start, I chose the Malibu pack and used it in their Savory Low-Calorie Chicken recipe. It was easy and fast: Because I chopped the accompanying vegetables the night before, all I had to do Sunday afternoon after church was rinse off the chicken, season it with the spice packet, place it on top of the seasoned carrots and onions and stick the whole thing in the oven. After 45 minutes cooking, the chicken emerges tender, cooked and saturated with hints of black pepper, onion, garlic and paprika, as do the chopped vegetables surrounding it. Accompanied by some garlic couscous and sliced fresh Italian bread, this made a lovely meal.

And tomorrow, on my work lunch, it will make a great addition to a salad, chopped and tossed with romaine, carrots, radishes and tomatoes because, you know, just because things are back to normal in life doesn’t mean our food has to be.

Savory Low-Calorie Chicken
Adapted from Amazing Taste

I always hate it when I hear about a particular product and then can’t find it at any local store. So if you’d like to save yourself that trouble, click here for a list of places that sell the Amazing Taste products.

Ingredients:
4 boneless, skinless chicken breast halves
1 packet Amazing Taste® Malibu Seasoning
1 cup sliced carrots
1 cup sliced zucchini
½ cup water (or light beer or white wine)
1 small onion, sliced
4 cloves garlic, chopped

Directions:
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Place vegetables in a two-quart baking dish and sprinkle about one Tablespoon of the Malibu seasoning on top.

Coat the chicken with the remainder of the seasoning, and place it over the vegetables. Add liquids and cover. Bake for 45 minutes.

As you know, I’m not exactly the type of person to miss winter. But can I tell you something? When these vanilla spice cookies bake, even in the middle of May, filling the kitchen with a fragrance sweet and filled with nostalgia, I’d swear I was walking around a Christmas market where they sell fresh-roasted cinnamon pecans wrapped in paper cones, the kind you take in your gloved hands, the air visible in front of you as you breathe in and out, your face flushed pink.

It’s like that time last winter when my friend Becky and I drove out to Geneva, on, I swear, what must have been the coldest night ever, on the hunt for homemade candy canes and cups of hot chocolate. After we walked up and down a street of bundled carolers and holiday decorations, our skin cracking and our noses running, what we found instead were frozen toes and fingers, even after returning to the car; a few photos of us, in the dark, standing near twinkling lights; and my first taste of a chestnut, which, in all honestly, smells a hundred times better than it tastes: hot and bland. I don’t often feel nostalgic for nights like those, so it would take something pretty special to make me remember all the good parts: the smell of fresh popcorn from the white tent in front of one of the shops, the gleaming red and gold globes hanging from a tree, the group of musicians who played, hands exposed, as if they couldn’t even feel the freeze.

Let me tell you: these cookies are that something.

They came to me the other night, quickly, because I had the ingredients on hand and because, as icebox cookies, I figured they’d hold up well to shipping. I was planning a package for my friend Jarrelle. You’d like Jarrelle. We met in college, I can’t remember when exactly, but she’s the kind of person that is easy to like, in a way that not many people are, and if she lived a little closer to Chicago instead of New Hampshire, I’d be going over tonight to visit and give her a big hug, which is exactly what she needs right now.

The original recipe for these cookies calls for chopped nuts, which I omitted, and the weirdest thing was that an almost nutty flavor still came through. It’s like these cookies were all the best parts of candied pecans—the sweetness, the slight caramelizing—without the actual nuts underneath. Fresh out of the oven, they are nothing short of irresistible.

Along with the Christmas cookies, I also packed some of Nigella Lawson’s death by chocolate cookies (though less of them because I was afraid they’d melt), which are exactly what you think of when you think of emotional comfort food: rich, decadent, soft and chocolate. Originally designed to be oversized quarter-cup cookies, they are made to be eaten with a big glass of milk, maybe while you watch a movie you love.

Anyway, since you’re so nice to let me talk about cookies again here, I’m giving you both these recipes—a two-for-one post, you could say—and wishing you a happy, wonderful long weekend, filled with friends, long hot sunshine and, of course, something sweet to eat.

Vanilla Spice Cookies
Adapted from Recipe Zaar

The original recipe suggests dipping the cookies in chocolate icing, so by all means try that. I, however, like them just as they are. Also, the recipe as it is yields around 80; feel free to freeze the logs to bake later, whenever the mood strikes (dough may be frozen several months).

Ingredients:
1/2 cup butter, softened
1 cup firmly packed brown sugar
1 egg
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon cardamom

Directions:
In the bowl of a stand mixer, beat butter at a medium speed and gradually add sugar, beating well. Next, add egg and vanilla, and beat well. In a separate bowl, combine flour, baking soda, salt and spices; add this dry mixture to the butter mixture and combine.

Shape the dough into two approximately 12-inch rolls. Wrap each in wax paper and chill for at least two hours.

When ready to bake, preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Unwrap rolls and cut into 1/4-inch slices. Place on ungreased (or Silpat-lined) baking sheets, and bake for 10 to 12 minutes.

Cool slightly on baking sheets, then remove to wire racks to cool completely.

Nigella’s Death by Chocolate Cookies
Adapted from Nigella Lawson

Originally, these cookies are designed to be mammoth in size, each created from a quarter-cup of batter dropped onto a baking sheet. I went smaller, but you can definitely experiment.

Ingredients:
16 ounces semisweet chocolate chips
3/4 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup cold butter, cubed
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon baking powder

Directions:
Preheat oven to 350 F. Set aside 8 ounces of the chocolate chips, and melt the remaining chocolate (I put it in the microwave for half a minute).

In a large bowl, combine the melted chocolate with butter, sugar, eggs, and vanilla until smooth. Cool mixture. Stir in flour and baking powder. Add chocolate chips that had been set aside.

Spoon onto cookie sheets lined with parchment or Silpats. Bake 12 to 15 minutes or until puffed and set to touch. Cool for a minute or two on the cookie sheets before transferring to wire racks to cool completely.