winter farmshare yields carrot cake
11 Jan 2011 2 Comments
in cake, carrots, recipes Tags: baking, Brooklyn, cream cheese frosting, dried fruit, health food, healthy, holidays, mandoline, walnuts, winter
according to recent text messages, this is the best carrot cake EVER!!!
the sweet up-shot of a zillion carrots from the winter farm share.
presuming carrot cake a quintessential American dessert, I went to Joy for the measurements. Out of respect for its crumbling, moldered pages, the 1953 edition doesn’t do kitchen duty so the kitchen’s 1997 edition provided the basic infrastructure. As expected, carrot cake, page 935. Adopted as below; brilliant.
snuggled into bed with the booky stink of the old copy to see how the recipe changed over time. It ain’t in there. Scoured the index, staring blankly at places where it should fit…carrot, cake; cake, carrot… It wasn’t hiding out near the gingerbread where it lives in 1997, and the gingerbread lived in breads not cake and without the quaint introduction as the baked good with the oldest traceable roots with the exception of bread. Wouldn’t carrot cake be a logical runner up? Pineapple cake—perhaps leading to the crushed pineapple in the late innovation of carrot cake—was the closest thing. Seems Granny Rom didn’t put shredded veggies in dessert.
and I don’t put canned crushed pineapple in anything. So, happily abandoning that convention, peel an apple, slice it into quarters, and drop them into a small saucepan with 4 tablespoons of butter, the zest of one lemon and half an orange, and about an inch of fresh ginger peeled and minced. Cook covered over low heat, stirring once in awhile, until, essentially, you have a very fragrant apple mush.
heat your oven to 350° and butter and flour a 9” round cake pan.
sift together: 1 ¾ cup of cake flour with 1 ½ teaspoons of baking soda and a teaspoon of baking powder with cloves, cinnamon, salt and freshly grated nutmeg. I am afraid the latter measurements are of the “as you like” variety.
in a large measuring bowl, whisk together ½ cup of sunflower oil, 3 eggs (at room temperature), and one cup of sugar. We went in for plain white sugar which left room for the intricate spicing to shine through. Stir in the cooled apples.
stir in the dry goods along with 1 cup each of walnuts and dried cranberries as well as 2 cups of shredded carrots. Admittedly, the peeling & shredding of so many roots out me off making carrot cake before. The sole available tool had been a finger threatening flimsy box grater. But the newly gifted mandolin shredded them so fine and so fast we had more than originally called for lickety-split. Thus—even more carroty carrot cake.
pour the lot into your cake pan and bake for about half an hour or until set in the center. Leave for 10 minutes before turning out of the pan to a rack for cooling then a plate for icing.
by the work of our hands
according to my mother, who shredded these carrots and made the spangled pocket in the photo, carrot cake’s ultimate role is as perfect accompaniment for cream cheese frosting. The key to which, apparently, is very cold cream cheese. Cream together an 8 oz block of cold cream cheese with 4 tablespoons of softened butter and 2 – 2 ½ cups of powdered sugar.
once iced, the whole cake will need to refrigerated as well as slices as they linger, if the linger. Happy if they do, this is the sort of cake that gets better when its been around a bit.
spring soufflé
13 Apr 2010 Leave a Comment
in carrots, cheese, eggs, mushrooms, recipes, vegetarian Tags: asparagus, french cooking, healthy food, joy of cooking, souffle, spring, whole foods
eggs
those joyous ladies, Irma & Marion, in their 1953 edition of the New Joy of Cooking, call the soufflé the “misunderstood woman of the culinary world,” and go on to give brisk and efficient instructions along with 26 recipes for variations on the foundation. Unfortunately, these include “Jiffy Soufflé with Canned Soup” and lead straight into to ring molds. Le sigh.
thirty years later, American whole foods home-cooking gurus Nikki & David Goldbeck would agree that, “despite the French name and elegant reputation,” the soufflé is simple, useful, delicate, and tempting. Even, apparently, if you put wheat germ in it.
like many French dishes that have soared into the gastronomic stratosphere, seemingly out of reach for us mere culinary mortals, the soufflé is humble in origin. Basic foodstuffs handled with thoughtful love. Our new friend monsieur Louis Diat exclaims:
soufflés have for so long been associated with haute cuisine that many people, unfortunately, never attempt to make them. Expensive, they say, and difficult to make. Quel dommage! It’s a pity—because neither fact is true.
soufflé is no more complicated or decadent than an omelet; it just has fabulous architecture. A homey, table-scaled rendering of the flying buttresses of Notre Dame. Baked “the French way,” it delivers a comforting, custardy center whether savory or sweet. Although luscious, it is only inappropriately rich in taste or cost if you make it so. Mundanely, it is a graceful vehicle for leftovers. The only real trouble with making soufflés is the process seems to invariably dirty a lot of dishes, and i dislike washing dishes very much.
much of the magic is in the egg whites, but some of it is in the pan: a medium straight-edge casserole will hold a 5 egg soufflé and be plenty puffy. To coax the thing even loaftier, use a smaller pan lined with a collar of parchment paper. Butter and lightly coat your pan with breadcrumbs, cornmeal, grated hard cheese or some combination. We used Panko breadcrumbs for this soufflé. Heat your oven to 375°.
measure out 1 ¼ cups of whole milk and set it atop the stove to warm. Separate 5 cold eggs: the yolks go in a small bowl and the whites in a much larger bowl and quite clean, because they will double in volume later and any grease will debilitate maximum loft.
melt 3 tablespoons of butter over low heat in a heavy sauce pan. Whisk in scant 3 tablespoons of all-purpose flour; and cook, whisking, until the roux turns golden brown. Grate in fresh nutmeg, a pinch of cayenne pepper and some salt. Slowly whisk in the milk. Continue whisking and just simmer, cooking until the béchamel reduces to 1 cup. Turn off the heat; leave to cool.
onion
heat a sauté pan over a medium flame. When the pan is hot, add a pat of butter. Peel and chop half an onion and add to the pan. Peel and finely chop a carrot and add to the sautéing onion. Chop half a clean Portobello mushroom head; slice the other half and set aside. Add the small mushroom pieces to the pan, stirring well. Salt and pepper, adding a little more butter if necessary. Cook until the onions and carrots are soft but not browned then set aside in a bowl, scrapping the pan well. Toss in the slices of mushroom and sauté for about 3 minutes, turning frequently with a fork.
snap the heads off a bunch of asparagus, reserving the stalks for some other use (like sautéing lightly with red pepper flakes then storing in olive oil and lemon juice for salad). Remove the mushrooms to the casserole dish and replace them with the asparagus, with a splash of lemon if you like and a little salt and pepper. Cook just briefly and scatter over the mushrooms.
whisk a tablespoon or so of the just warm white sauce into the egg yolks then a bit more sauce. Pour the tempered yolks into the saucepan and whisk thoroughly. Stir in the chopped vegetables, and grate in a ¼ or so of Parmesan cheese.
whip the egg whites until stiff peaks form, glossy but not dry. This is one of the few times i break out the electric beater; it really angers my forearm to get to stiff peaks by hand, though it is not impossible. If you have a kitchen friend, you can take turns.
fold about a fourth of the stiff whites into the sauce until thoroughly combined. Gently fold in the remainder, no more than a third at a time. To fold, use a spatula to cut through then beneath and lift the batter over and around the egg whites. Patiently combine the two without deflating the whites. Carefully turn the whole mess into the casserole dish. Run your finger along the inside edge of the pan to create a groove an inch down.
bake for 25 minutes to half an hour, which will make for a firmer soufflé. The one thing all accounts of soufflé making seem to agree on is the maxim: you wait for the soufflé; the soufflé does not wait for you. Like all dreamy things, that spun scaffolding only holds its grand form a brief time. And that divine, luxuriant center is at its best oven to table to dish. Serve with excellent bread, a sourdough French is ideal of course. Include a bright, herby salad.
the leftovers are likewise delicious, as many fallen things are.
soupe bonne femme avec faggot
26 Mar 2010 2 Comments
in carrots, mushrooms, potatoes, recipes, soup, vegan, vegetarian Tags: Brooklyn, cooking, french, garlic, new york, one bowl cooking, spring
“Many recipes call for a faggot.” — Louis Diat
mais oui—everything is tastier with a dash of faggotry! I’m not talking buggery— although many of us could use a soupcon of that too, survey says up to half of gay men never do it up the butt anyway — but the joie de vivre, the je ne sais quoi of a fabulous queen. In the radical muffin kitchen, cooking gusto evokes a certain make-do and then some learned at the hip of sassy men who could out stomp me in their platform shoes and draw suitors to them through the din of crowded bars with their eyes. Certainly, a femme is better with a faggot.
this is perhaps not what monsieur Diat had in mind. No, the French born chef was the head at the New York Ritz-Carlton kitchens, where he not only trained many chefs in the U.S. but also made it his life’s work to translate French cooking techniques into English. In Gourmet’s Basic French Cooking: Techniques of French Cuisine, published for the first time in 1961, he includes among Tricks of the Chef:
Faggot Many recipes call for a faggot. To make a faggot, cut a stalk of celery in 2 pieces 3 or 4 inches long. In the curve of one piece, tuck a few sprigs of parsley, folding in the ends, lay on this a bay leaf, and sprinkle with a little thyme. If the recipe does not include carrots, a small piece of carrot is sometimes tucked in with the parsley. Place the other piece of celery on top very firmly and secure the faggot by winding a long piece of string closely around it. Unless you assemble a faggot firmly and bind it tightly with plenty of string, it is apt to roll apart during the cooking.
Soupe Bonne Femme is simply potato leek soup, although all the following “bonne femme” recipes in his magnum opus seem to be “with mushrooms” and how this all relates remains a mystery to me. The soup would probably be delicious with mushrooms, but as it is or rich with cream, Soupe Bonne Femme is perfect fare for blustery March weather.
scrub clean 4-5 potatoes. chop them and put them aside in a bowl of cold water. Slice the greens and roots from 4 medium-small leeks, clean them well in cold running water. Dice the white part of the leek along with 1 small onion and a few peeled garlic cloves. Melt a tablespoon or so of butter in a big, heavy pot, add the leeks, onions and garlic, and cook until soft but not brown, stirring occasionally with a wooden spoon.
drain the potatoes and stir them into the leeks, turning to coat with butter; cook for about 5 minutes. Pour in 4 cups of hot water or stock. Assemble and bind a faggot of celery, carrot, parsley and thyme. Add this to the soup pot along with a dash of salt and pepper. Bring to a boil, lower the heat and simmer for ½ an hour to 45 minutes or until the potatoes are beginning to fall apart.
serve as is or…stir in another tablespoon of butter and 2 cups of whole milk or 1 cup of cream. If you add the cream or milk, be sure not to return to a boil but only gently reheat. In the alternative, to go entirely vegan, cook all the veggies in olive oil.
pumpkin and white bean soup
10 Nov 2009 Leave a Comment
in beans & lentils, carrots, recipes, soup, squash, vegan, vegetarian Tags: autumn, Brooklyn, cooking, farmer's market, pumpkin
pumpkin soup
from the Greens cookbook (1987) written by the chefs of the same-named restaurant in California to which I have never been. So sad.
found the most beautiful Cinderella pumpkin at the Cortelyou Farmer’s market. It would have made a wonderful carriage, green like patina on copper, frosty white in patches. Not being a fairy godmother, I made a soup instead. It was a hefty pumpkin, and I used half, approximately ¾ pound or 4-5 cups when cut in chunks.
halving a pumpkin and skinning it is not for the faint of heart—a serious knife should be employed for the purpose. If you don’t yet have a beloved blade then ask a friend with kitchen wits and witchery (and a bit of cash flow) to get you a good Chef’s knife for your birthday. A fine knife will make you more eager to cut up veggies and entices your foodie friends to cook in your kitchen. Back to the pumpkin: plunge your knife tip into the skin near the stem, the bottom is usually the flattest part of the thing and should sit steadily on your cutting board but having a friend help you steady it is not a bad idea, and carefully bear down along the whole blade, towards the bottom of the pumpkin. Pull out the blade and start again as often as you need. Bit by bit is better than a dramatic cleaving and trip to the emergency room. Repeat on the other side.
scoop the seeds and goop from the pumpkin halves. if you want, reserve some of the seeds for toasted pumpkin seeds, and pile up at least some of the seeds and all of the pulp to use for the stock. slice of the pumpkin skins and set aside for stock as well. cut the pumpkin into slices about an inch wide then across to make large chunks.
wash one medium or two small leeks. Slice off the greens and set aside. Slice down the center of the leeks and across into thin half moon strips. Smash and peel two or three cloves of garlic. Scrub and chop a few carrots or parsnips (parsnips are really nice) and several ribs of celery.
in a large pot, heat a tablespoon of olive oil. add the garlic and leek greens and stir to coat and cook a few moments. stir in the celery. add in the pumpkin pulp and seeds and a few stalks of parsley. Salt and pepper the whole lot. Pour in about six cups of water. Bring to a simmer and cook for about 20 minutes. Turn off the heat and let cool a bit before draining, squeezing the rich broth from the veggies by pressing them in a colander over a bowl or pot.
in a soup pot, heat a few slugs of olive oil. add the leeks and stir, cooking over a medium flame until they begin to soften. toss in the pumpkin and carrots, stirring to coat. Cook for about 9 minutes, stirring occasionally or often depending on how wide or narrow your pot is. salt and pepper (white pepper if you have it) and stir in a handful of sage and/or thyme. Pour in the stock and bring to a simmer. Cook for about half an hour (sometimes longer) until the pumpkin begins to fall apart. Stir it every once and awhile.
add a few cups of cooked white beans* and a cup or two of the bean cooking liquid and stir. Cook for another 15 minutes or so, until the pumpkin is an orange velvet background to the beans.
top with a drizzle of olive oil, chopped parsley and a squeeze of lemon or swirl in a spoonful of plain yoghurt, crème fraiche or sour cream. Serve with piles of warm, excellent bread.
* to make the beans: pick through two cups of dried small white beans, like navy beans, and remove any bad beans or junk. bring a pot of water to a boil, about three time the amount of beans. turn off the heat and add the beans and let sit for an hour. rinse the soaked beans in cold water, combine with fresh water in the pot, add in stalks of fresh or dried sage and thyme and bring to a boil. cook for about an hour or al dente. drain, saving some of the cooking liquid.
lentils for anemic royalty
21 Mar 2008 Leave a Comment
in carrots, recipes, rice, soup, tomato, vegan, vegetarian Tags: cambodia, cilantro, cooking, india, laos, radical muffins love good food, recipes, social justice, southeast asia, tibet, travel
my flatmate who is leaving for India is also anemic, and the Radical Muffin kitchen has been making iron rich concoctions to help! Cook these yummy lentils in a cast iron skillet and serve with steamed greens and a big glass of OJ for maximum metal absorption.
mince one red onion, two cloves of garlic, and 1 inch of peeled fresh ginger, combine in a pile or bowl. Dice 2 medium carrots. Chop 4-5 fresh tomatoes if it’s the season; otherwise, open up a big can, about a cup and a half, of diced tomatoes.
in a hot skillet, for just a moment or two, toast 1 1/2 teaspoons each of sweet and hot paprika, 1/2 teaspoon of cinnamon (unless you are cooking for the kitchen witch who is allergic), and 6-10 cardamom pods, lightly crushed in a mortar or pestle or some improvisation of that tool. Add one teaspoon each of red pepper flakes, coriander, mustard seeds, garam masala, and tumeric.
stir in 2 tablespoons of sunflower or veggie oil. Let the oil get hot then stir in the garlic pile. Cook for 5 minutes or until the onions have softened, stirring occasionally.
add one cup of red lentils. Stir. Pour in 1 2/3 cup of coconut milk and one cup of water. Bring to a boil and stir in the tomatoes. Bring back to a boil and stir, then reduce the heat and simmer for half an hour to 45 minutes. Resist the temptation to stir too often—lentils are delicate, breaking down to mush quickly. Gently swirl and cover and cook over low heat.
slice and 3 scallions. Chop a few fistfuls of fresh cilantro and/or parsley if you have it and set aside.
ladle into bowls over brown rice or jasmine rice. Sprinkle with cilantro and scallions; serve with wedges of lime. Excellent with a drizzle of Greek yoghurt or raita.
And later, much later, the green fairy.
lemony gingery veggie stock
26 Dec 2007 Leave a Comment
in carrots, lemons, potatoes, recipes, soup, turnip, vegan Tags: ginger, health, stock
Fill your big and heavy pot with clean water and put it on the stovetop to boil. Scrub two fist-sized turnips, a potato, and two carrots (the ones so big you cannot imagine using them for anything in the kitchen). Trim any stems or roots. Trim four stalks of celery too; rinse them if they are dirty. Toss all these veggies in the pot.
Press three cloves of garlic under the flat side of a knife and peel. Break three inches of ginger into pieces. Cut a lemon into quarters. Toss all of this into the pot.
Bring the water to a rolling boil then let it fall back to a simmer for half an hour.
Stem any mushrooms you have about for this recipe or any others. Wipe them clean and add to the stock. Pour in a few cups of water. Cover and bring back to boil then simmer half-covered for another hour or so. Stir occasionally, and use the back of the spoon to squish the ingredients gently, especially the lemons.
In your sink, set a colander in a bowl or pot large enough to hold all that hot stock. Pour the stock through and using cheesecloth or the back of a wooden spoon, mush the veggies to squeeze their best stuff into the broth.
Let the broth cool and store in jars in the frigidaire. Or you can use it right away to back soup. Viola:
gajjar ki burfee
13 Aug 2007 Leave a Comment
in carrots, sweets, vegetarian
also – gaijjar ki burfi; or served as gajjerella
In about ½ a cup of hot water, soak
¼ cup of almond slices.
Scrub clean
two pounds of carrots.
This is one of those recipes that are not worth making if you cannot lay your hands on fresh, local, in-season, smells like fake carrot they’re so carroty carrots. It won’t be near the same with craptastic mass produced carrots. Do not peel them, just scrub them a bit and grate. Be as careful as you can be, and maybe grate in shifts or invite a helper bee friend over—grating two pounds of carrots by hand isn’t easy on your fingers.
Cook the grated carrot in a large, heavy sauce pan with a lid (I use the pot I love best for risotto) over a medium-high flame for 10 minutes. Stir occasionally. Lower the flame and cook 10 minutes more, covered and stirring every few minutes. Add a pat or two of butter if you like.
Add
¾ cup firmly packed dark brown sugar
and cook for another half hour or so over medium-low heat, cover the pot and stir occasionally. The carrots will absorb the sugar, and it will become “dry.”
While the carrots are cooking, in another saucepan, combine
1 ¾ heavy (whipping) cream
1 cup ricotta cheese
3 cups nonfat dry milk.
Cook over medium high heat while whisking occasionally until the dairy cooks down to a batter-like consistency—about 15 minutes. When the cream mix is good and thick and the carrots good and dry, pour the cream into the carrots, stirring and cooking for 5 minutes or longer. Add the almonds, and
2 tablespoons of chopped pistachios, and 1 teaspoon cinnamon.
Cook over medium-low heat until thick and hefty – almost like fudge. Poor it into a large, shallow backing dish or on a cookie sheet with sides or very carefully on one without. Let cool a bit, and top with
edible silver leaf
if you can get it. You cannot get it in Brooklyn; you have to, the clerks said, go to Manhattan for that. You can also top with
sparkly decorator sugar, or
dessert masala: cinnamon, cardamom, pistachios, sugar.
