Archive for October, 2010

Bittersweet Chocolate Pudding Pie

October 7, 2010

Five years ago this month, I joined a preschool co-op with my older son Graham.  He was 11 months old at the time.  I had been told, by multiple friends, that co-op was the way to go.  Not so much for the children but for the community with other moms.  To all my friends who made this recommendation – thank you.  I now have lifelong friends because of the time we spent at that co-op.

We were extremely lucky to end up in a wonderful class.  Sometimes groups of people just gel and ours certainly did.  Most of us were new moms and we were all struggling through the same issues.  The group provided tremendous support and we actually really bonded through food.  The class met from 11am – 1pm once a week and we took turns bringing lunch.  I think the original intent was to provide food for the kids but it quickly morphed into a full blown lunch for the mommies as well.  (I wonder if I had anything to do with that…)

We were only in that co-op for two years but a small group of us still gets together on a regular basis.  We usually go out for dinner and sometimes we allow the husbands to come along with us.  Last week met up at someone’s house and the timing happened to coincide with our friend Kimrick’s birthday.  When I asked her what kind of dessert she wanted she said chocolate.  That’s my girl.

Because I had just made a cake, I opted to go the tart route this time.  This one features a chocolate cookie crust, a chocolate pudding middle, and a crème fraîche whipped top.  The only slightly negative thing I can say about his magical creation is that it isn’t all that easy to cut.  There are worse problems to have.  I’m a sucker for a chocolate cookie crust – even though it is nothing but chocolate wafers, sugar, and butter.  But the star here is the pudding.  As I was making it, I remembered the snack packs my mom used to put in my school lunch box.  I thought that chocolate pudding was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted.  I’m still a sucker for chocolate pudding especially with a topping as decadent as this one.

One Year Ago: Asian Coconut Noodle Soup

Bittersweet Chocolate Pudding Pie with Crème Fraîche Topping
Adapted from Bon Appétit
Serves 8-10

For some reason, those chocolate cookie wafers can be hard to find.  I have successfully used the Whole Foods brand of chocolate cookie grahams.

Crust
1 cup chocolate wafer cookie crumbs (about half of one 9-ounce package, finely ground in processor)
2 tbsp. sugar
5 tbsp. unsalted butter, melted
2 ounces bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped

Filling
1/3 cup sugar
1/3 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
2 tbsp. cornstarch
¼ tsp. salt
1¾ cups whole milk, divided
¼ cup heavy whipping cream
4 ounces bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped
1 tbsp. dark rum
1 tsp. vanilla extract

Topping
1 cup chilled crème fraîche
1 cup chilled heavy whipping cream
¼ cup sugar
1 tsp. vanilla extract

Bittersweet chocolate curls or chocolate sprinkles (optional)

Crust
Position rack in center of oven; preheat to 350°F.  Blend cookie crumbs and sugar in processor.  Add melted  butter; process until crumbs are evenly moistened.  Press crumb mixture onto bottom and up sides (not rim) of 9-inch-diameter glass pie dish.  Bake until crust begins to set and no longer looks moist, pressing gently with back of fork if crust puss, about 12 minutes.  Remove crust from oven, then sprinkle chopped chocolate over bottom of crust.  Let stand until chocolate softens, 1 to 2 minutes.  Using offset spatula or small rubber spatula, spread chocolate over bottom and up sides of crust to cover.  Chill crust until chocolate sets, about 30 minutes.

Filling
Whisk sugar, cocoa, cornstarch, and salt to  blend in heavy medium saucepan.  Gradually add 1/3 cup milk, whisking until smooth paste forms.  Whisk in remaining milk, then ¼ cup cream.  Using flat-bottom wooden spoon or heatproof spatula, stir mixture constantly over medium heat, scraping bottom and sides of pan until pudding thickens and begins to bubble at edges, about 5 minutes.  Add chocolate; stir until mixture is smooth.  Remove from heat; stir in rum and vanilla.  Pour hot pudding into crust and spread evenly.  Cool 1 hour at room temperature.  Cover with plastic wrap; chill overnight.  (Can be made 2 days ahead.  Keep refrigerated.)

Topping
Using electric mixer, beat crème fraîche, whipping cream, sugar, and vanilla in medium bowl just until stiff peaks form and mixture is thick enough to spread (do not overbeat or mixture may curdle).  Spread topping decoratively over top of pie, swirling to create peaks, if desired.  (Can be made 6 hours head.  Cover with cake dome (DT: or foil) and refrigerate.)

Sprinkle chocolate shavings or sprinkles decoratively atop pie.



Faux Pas

October 5, 2010

This is the dish I made to serve alongside the ratatouille on Sunday night.  I like to think of it now as the dish that could have killed my reputation, at least on Twitter, as a cook.  Let me explain.

The first time I ever had ratatouille also happened to be the first time I had polenta.  My beloved high school drama teacher had a daughter a few years older than me who really liked to cook.  One summer, newly vegetarian and home from college, they had me over for dinner.  They made me the ratatouille from the Moosewood cookbook and served it on top of a bed of polenta.  Truthfully, I was nervous.  I was maybe 19 and although I had always loved food, my palate was not what I would call overly sophisitcated.  But I loved that simple stew and I fell head over heels for the polenta.  Ever since, if I make ratatouille, I make polenta.

With Matt and family coming over, I wanted to make a little fancier riff but still keep it a Sunday night dinner.  In the Plenty cookbook, I found this idea.  This polenta is cooked with rosemary, butter, and Parmesan, and then poured out onto a sheet to cool and solidify.  Some mushrooms that are sauteed in olive oil and then tossed with garlic and herbs.  Taleggio cheese is carefully place over the top and the whole thing put in an oven warm enough to melt the cheese.

I bought my mushrooms, as I did almost everything for this meal, at the farmers market.  We are in prime mushroom season right now in the Northwest.  The chanterelles were $8 an pound and I splurged on a few porcinis as well.  I washed all the pine needles out of them and allowed them to dry, sauteed them as directed.  The few bites I stole told me that even without the polenta, this was going to be a great dish.  My polenta didn’t solidify as much as I wanted but the taleggio melted just as it should and the mushrooms were definitely the star.  After everyone went home, I put the polenta in a container but ate the mushrooms off the top as I did the dishes.

At 3am I woke up with a cramped stomach.  I did not go back to sleep that night.  I never felt terrible but I did not feel good.  My stomach tends to be pretty hard to upset – it is only very rich food or frivolous amounts of olive oil that make me feel sick.  Consequently, because I cook pretty clean, I have almost never felt ill from something I have made.  I knew it had to be the mushrooms because everything else I made was pretty healthy – I even used a lighter hand than advised on the cheese.  In other words, I was very concerned that I had poisoned my guests.  Is it not bad enough to feel the pressure to cook for a food blogger that you respect, but then you have to go and poison him and his wife?

By the time my boys woke up and I had made it about halfway through a novel, I was feeling better.  I sent a tentative email to Matt.  Were they feeling all right?  I was just a teensy weensy bit concerened about the mushrooms.  A tense hour went by in which I envisioned hospital visits and my reputation slaughtered, not to mention a budding friendship between three year old boys squashed.  But no, all was well in their house.  Phew!  So as it stands, my two worst cooking gaffes are the African peanut stew I made for a friend who is allergic to peanuts (I didn’t know!) and the frittata I served to a couple who came for brunch and who don’t eat eggs (I didn’t know!  And wouldn’t you mention that you don’t eat eggs if you are invited for brunch?)  What is your greatest cooking faux pas?  Come on – make me feel better.

Providing you don’t buy poisonous mushrooms, this is really a great dish.  Polenta is one of those things that can be hard to serve to guests.  If you are going to go the soft route, it really needs to be made just before serving (unless you want to cook it in a double boiler).  But if you make it this way, it can sit until you need it and it will still be hot from its trip to the cheese melting oven.

Polenta previously on Dana Treat: Polenta Baked with Corn, Basil, and Tomatoes
One Year Ago: Smoky Chard Over Grilled Bread
Two Years Ago: Mediterranean Five Lentil Soup

Mushroom and Herb Polenta
Adapted from Plenty
Serves 4

The recipe instructs you to add truffle oil to the pre-formed polenta but I was out so I left it out.  I opted to pour my polenta out free-form on a sheet of parchment paper for a more rustic look, but you can also pour it into a oven-proof pan sprayed with a little non-stick spray.

3 tbsp. olive oil
1 pounds mushrooms, very large ones halved
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 tbsp. chopped tarragon
1 tbsp. chopped thyme
3 cups water or vegetable stock
1 tsp. salt
¾ cups coarse cornmeal
¼ tsp. pepper
2 tbsp. unsalted butter
½ cup grated Parmesan cheese
1 tbsp. chopped rosemary
3 ounces Taleggio cheese, rind removed, cut into very thin slices

Heat half the oil in a large frying pan over medium-high heat.  Once hot, add half the mushrooms and fry until they are cooked through and brown in spots, about 8 minutes.  Try not to move them around too much.  Remove from the pan, add the other half of the oil and repeat with the rest of the mushrooms.  Off the heat, return all the mushrooms to the pan and add the garlic, tarragon, thyme and a large pinch of salt and a few grinds of pepper.

Line a medium-sized baking sheet with parchment paper.  Bring the water to a boil in a large saucepan.  Add the salt, then vigorously whisk in the cornmeal.  Bring it back to a boil, stirring all the while, then reduce the heat as low as it will go.  Cover the pan.  Stir every 5 minutes or so until the polenta is smooth, about 20 minutes all together.  Add the butter, Parmesan cheese, rosemary, a good pinch of salt, and a few grinds of pepper.  Spread the polenta over the parchment paper and allow it to cool and firm up, at least 30 minutes.

Preheat oven to 425ºF.  Top the polenta with Taleggio and place in the oven until the cheese is melted and starting to bubble, about 5 minutes.  Remove and top with the mushrooms then return to the oven just warm for a minute or two.



Mixed Vegetables

October 4, 2010

From age five to age nine, I lived on a cul-de-sac on a suburban island across the lake from Seattle.  It was pretty much what you would expect a cul-de-sac on a suburban island to be like.  It was safe, quiet, and there was literally a pony living in a stable near our house.  His name was Fury and it suited him because he was just about the meanest equine creature I have ever come across.  He was even meaner than Nellie Gray, the horse that bucked me off its back in camp the year I was eleven.  Fury’s meaness didn’t stop us and the neighborhood kids from feeding him our watermelon rinds each summer while trying to pet his soft nose.

There were children in almost every house and the one house that didn’t have kids had a garage sale every year where they would let each child have whatever they wanted for 25 cents.  We thought they were pretty all right.  The family next door to us had four girls which, when we moved in, I thought was the greatest thing in the world.  Four built-in best friends!  But no, it was not to be.  The oldest girl was a year older than me and, while she was nice, she was quiet and kind off in her own world.  Plus she also sometimes wore a patch to correct a lazy eye which scared me a little.  The youngest was just a baby so she didn’t interest me much and the two middle girls were shockingly mean.  Just cruel nasty girls who were not afraid to torment, tease, and hit.  One day I summoned up the courage to hit one of them back and my mom was exceedingly proud of me for standing up for myself.

Even though we were very far from being the best friends that I had hoped we would be, the neighbor girls and I spent a lot of time together.  They had a sandbox and trees that were easy to climb and we had long days where we played Grease and rode our bikes endlessly up and down the hill of the cul-de-sac.  We discussed whether Andy Gibb, Donny Osmond, or Shaun Cassidy was the cutest and which flavor of Bonnie Bell lipsmackers tasted the best.  We disagreed about whether pizza or spaghetti was our favorite food but we were in total agreement about what was our least favorite.  No doubt about it.  Mixed vegetables.

I’m not sure what constituted mixed vegetables in my eight-year-old world and I’m not sure my mom ever even made something so vague.  But it sure sounded terrible.  The neighbor girls’ mom apparently made mixed vegetables almost every night and they would tell me how truly awful it was.  They were forced to eat red and green peppers – the horror!  Of course, this is funny now because almost all of my meals involve vegetables and they are often mixed.  I can’t imagine my life without mixed vegetables.

To a mixed vegetable hater, ratatouille would pretty much be the worst dish imaginable.  Lots of vegetables, pretty mushy, and definitely mixed.  Matt and I have been trying to get our families together for a while now and we finally both had a night open on Sunday.  Because Matt often teases me for my vegetarian ways, even though his lovely wife is now vegetarian and he admittedly is happy to eat that way, I thought a large dish of mixed vegetables was in order.  I took the recipe from a book that we both admire greatly – Plenty.

There are different schools of thought when it comes to ratatouille.  Some people think you should cook each vegetable separately so that each retains its identity and the mush factor is reduced.  Some people encourage long and slow cooking.  Some people think ratatouille should contain only the more traditional vegetables – peppers, eggplant, zucchini, and tomatoes.  Others think that more should be invited to the party.

The Plenty version goes along with schools of thought #2 and #4.  These mixed vegetables got a long simmer on the stove followed by some time in the oven.  The vegetables are added in a certain order but ultimately, they spend a lot of time together getting cooked way waayyy down.  Lots of other vegetables besides the traditional ones appear in this recipe and I balked at a few.  Parsnip and sweet potato?  In ratatouille?  I just couldn’t picture them in there so I left them out, but I was open-minded enough to allow potato, winter squash, and string beans.  I was very happy to have purchased every single vegetable – from the onion that is added first to the parsley that is added last – at the farmers market.   Unfortunately, I made the very bad mistake of actually over seasoning this dish but while it was salty, it was still very good.

When all was said and done, I don’t know that I would actually call this ratatouille.  It’s really more like, um, mixed vegetables.  I would make this dish again and cook it the same way but I would probably add some saffron to it, maybe along with some smoked paprika, turning it into more of a Spanish stew.  That I would serve with a big plate of white beans and roasted tomatoes instead of the polenta I served with this one.  Recipe coming tomorrow.

One Year Ago: Holly B’s Peanut Butter Brownies
Two Years Ago: Fruit and Spice Granola

Ratatouille
Adapted from Plenty
Serves 3-4

I used a delicata squash in this recipe which has an edible skin so I did not peel it.

Olive oil
1 large onion, finely chopped
4 garlic cloves, sliced thin
1 jalapeño pepper, seeded and finely diced
2 red peppers, cut into 1-inch pieces
1 small winter squash, peeled and seeded and cut into 1-inch pieces
½ pound green beans, trimmed and cut into 1-inch pieces
1 medium zucchini, cut into 1-inch pieces
1 small eggplant, cut into 1-inch pieces
1 medium potato, cut into 1-inch pieces
2 medium tomatoes, chopped
1 tsp. sugar
1 tbsp. tomato paste
Chopped parsley
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Place a large and preferably oven proof pot over medium heat.  Add just enough olive oil to coat the bottom and then add the onions and a large pinch of salt.  Sauté for 5 minutes, then stir in the garlic, chile, and red peppers and fry for another 5 minutes.  Add the winter squash and continue frying for another 5 minutes.

Remove the vegetables from the pot and set aside in a bowl.  Add a bit more oil and then add the green beans, zucchini, and eggplant to the hot oil and fry for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Return the contents of the bowl to the pot.  Add the potato, tomatoes, sugar, tomato paste, and another large pinch of salt and a few grinds of pepper.  Stir well and allow to cook for 5 minutes.  Pour in enough water to half cover the vegetables.  Cover with a lid and leave to simmer gently, lowering heat as necessary, for 30 minutes.  Taste the vegetables and add more salt and pepper to taste.

Preheat the oven to 400ºF.  If your pot is oven-proof, remove the cover and place the pot in the oven.  If not, transfer the vegetables and their liquid to a large deep roasting pan.  Either way, bake for 30 minutes or until the vegetables are very soft and most of the liquid has evaporated.  Stir in the parsley and serve.



Savory Rugelach

October 1, 2010

Well.  These kind of look like pigs in a blanket don’t they?  I don’t really know what pigs in a blanket are – hot dogs in some kind of dough casing, right?  I know I must have had them sometime in my childhood otherwise, how would I know about them?   I brought these to an event I catered and people were surprised when the host announced that my food was vegetarian.  Several people pointed to these little guys with eyebrows raised.

Of course, they are not pigs in a blanket.  They are Cream Cheese, Olive, and Rosemary Rugelach.  Their color comes from a filling of puréed olives with cream cheese.  I first made these years ago for as an appetizer for Christmas dinner.  There is a family we spend every Thanksgiving and Christmas with and have done so since I was three years old.  Once I moved out of the house and started cooking for myself, I got appetizer assignments.  I took my one trusty cookbook and made some of the dips that first year and everyone liked them.  The next year, I branched out a bit and the next a bit more.  Somewhere along the way, I got moved off of appetizers and onto side dishes, desserts, and three years ago, I took over hosting Thanksgiving dinner.

Once I had graduated from dips but had not yet been promoted to more important dishes, I made these rugelach.  I remember having a hard time with them but they were worth the effort because everyone loved them.  The recipe makes a large amount and our relatively small group ate all of them.  For some crazy reason, I had not made them again until last week.  I still had a bit of trouble with them but they are by no means difficult to make.  I am not the best at cutting dough into equal pieces so some of these rolled really easily and some didn’t.  I don’t think I have to tell you that it does not matter because they are delicious and flakey marvels.

Some tips.  The dough and the filling can be made up to two days before but these really are best served the day they are baked.  There is quite a bit of fat in them so they get a little soggy by day two.  There are instructions on how to freeze them in the recipe and I’ll try that next time.  I had way more filling than I needed so I popped that back in the refrigerator and served it a few days later as a dip with crackers.  The original recipe calls for green olives but if you use those, your rugelach won’t look like pigs in a blanket.  The choice is up to you.

Rugelach Previously on Dana Treat: Holly B’s Rugelach
One Year Ago: Soba Noodles with Bok Choy, Scallions, and Ginger
Two Years Ago: Dimply Plum Cake

Cream Cheese, Olive, and Rosemary Rugelach
Adapted from Gourmet
Makes about 50

Dough
1 8-ounce package cream cheese, cut into 1-inch cubes
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, cut into 1-inch cubes
2 cups flour
4 tsp. finely chopped fresh rosemary
¾ tsp. ground black pepper
½ tsp. salt

Filling
1 cup chopped pitted brine-cured Greek olives, your choice on color
1 cup chopped onion
1 8-ounce package cream cheese, room temperature, diced
1 egg, beaten to blend (for glaze)

For Dough:
Blend cream cheese and butter in food processor until combined, scraping down sides of bowl.  Add flour; blend well.  Add rosemary, pepper, and salt; blend.  Gather dough together; divide in half.  Shap each half into flat square.  Wrap and chill for at least 1 hour and up to 2 days.

For Filling:
Using on/off turns, blend olives and onion in processor until finely chopped.  Add cream cheese and blend.  Transfer filling to medium bowl.  Cover and chill at least 1 hour and up to 2 days.

Preheat oven to 350ºF.  Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper.  Roll 1 dough square on floured surface to 14-inch square.  Trim to 12½-inch square.  Cut into five 2½-inch-wide strips, then crosswise into 2½-inch squares (25 total).  Drop 1 rounded teaspoon filling onto each square; spread almost to edges.  Starting at 1 corner, roll each square into cylinder, enclosing filling.  Curve ends in to form crescents; arrange on 1 baking sheet.  Repeat with remaining dough squares and filling.  Brush with glaze.

Bake rugelach until golden brown, about 35 minutes.  Cool on sheets.  (Can be made 3 days ahead.  Cool completely.  Cover and freeze on sheets.  Rewarm frozen rugelach uncovered in 325º oven until heated through, about 12 minutes.)  Serve warm or room temperature.



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