Recipes
How to Make Scones (and my family uncomfortable)
Sep 19th
I’ll try to be short and sweet. Scones are amazing – these are flaky and fabulously rich. Sweet and brilliant with milk, coffee, or tea – you’d be a fool to not make your own. Just work fast and keep your ingredients cold! You’ll get a flaky, biscuit-like scone every time.
You’ll need:
Dry Ingredients
- 2 cups of all purpose flour; I used 1¾C AP and ¼C whole wheat pastry flour. The softer the flour, the better – try cake flour if you’ve got it.
- ½ cup of granulated sugar
- ½ cup of currants
- 2 teaspoons baking powder
- ¼ teaspoon baking soda
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 1 teaspoon lemon zest
Other Ingredients - a stick of butter (4 ounces = 8 tablespoons), frozen
- ¾ cup of heavy cream
You’ll also need:
- two bowls, about 4 quarts each
- a cheese (or other type of) grater
- a zester/microplaner
- a whisk
- a spatula
- rolling pin
- cutting board
- sharp knife
- a baking sheet (half pans work nicely)
- wax paper
- measuring cups/spoons
- one granny, or a resident-old-person
- And as always, clean hands (and likewise, all other tools)
Here’s how to do it:
- Working very quickly, grate the frozen butter into a bowl. Yes, with a cheese grater. You can very lightly coat the grater with oil to keep the butter from sticking, though its coldness should help. Once grated, return the curly butter to the freezer to firm up-about 20 minutes. Your hands really know how to melt butter’s heart.
- Mix the dry shit in a bowl. Use a wisk if you care to; use your hands if you don’t give a **** ’cause you a gansta. A scone-making gangsta. And don’t forget the salt and lemon zest, mother******.
- Okay, I don’t know what happened there. Take that cold butter out of the freezer and mix it into the dry ingredients. Coat the butter with flour, using your fingertips to gently and quickly mash it all together. You want to work fast so the butter doesn’t melt.
- At this point, you’ll have a flaky-flourish thing going on. Perfect time to add the heavy cream. It’s probably best to use a spatula here, unless you like having objectionably sticky fingers (until you realize how sticky AND tasty they are).
- Once the cream is incorporated evenly, you’ll have a flaky but workable mass of dough – flour your hands and give it a few good kneads to bring it all together. Flour your cutting board or clean work surface, as well as your rolling pin. Roll that ****er out to about ½ an inch thick. Place on wax paper and into the freezer to cool for about 5-10 minutes or until firm but workable.
- Flour your surface again and fold the dough into thirds. Roll it back to about ½ an inch thick and give it a turn, folding into thirds again. Do this two more times. This is how we build those flaky layers! If the dough starts getting soft, toss it back on the wax paper and into the freezer.
- The final roll should remain about one inch thick. Preheat your oven to 450°F and let the dough cool down one last time in the freezer. When the oven’s nice ‘n’ toasty, take your dough out and cut into into quarters, and cut each quarter once, yielding 8 triangle-ish scones. Lightly coat them with softened or melted butter.
- Place onto a baking sheet and into the oven for about 20 minutes, or until they start to get brownish. The good ol’ toothpick-trick can also be employed; they’ll feel a hint soft but will firm up as they cool. Remove to a rack to cool for about 10-15 minutes.
- Enjoy, with your *****-*** granny, or *****-*** granny substitute.
Sauerkraut Update #1
Feb 10th
I took a peek at the slowly fermenting cabbage today and decided that it wasn’t going to ferment fast enough. The pieces I cut were closer to 3/8 of an inch to ½ an inch, rather than the ¼ inch I described in the original post. My apologies.
I grabbed my biggest wooden spoon—mind you, it is in fact quite large—and proceeded to mash and bash the cabbage until it exuded more water. After 5-10 minutes, I stopped and replaced the bag. A nice brine now slightly covers the cabbage and things should go slightly faster. I’ll update in a few days!
Oh, and the smell is divine. Nice and pungent and cabbagey. Not gross, but definitely not sterile. I. Love. Food.
Oatmeal, and Not Your Grandpa’s Bowl
Oct 6th
I. Love. Oats.
They’re the perfect vehicle for flavors, sweet or savory. And they can make an especially brilliant breakfast if you’d just toss those wimpy packets in the bin. This way is cheaper, tastier, and will get some heat in your belly for those chilly autumn days that are certain to come.
Here’s how I make them for one serving. You’ll need:
- 1¾ cups water
- 1 cup rolled oats. You know, the same kind as the goofy dude with the hat
- salt
- unsalted butter
- 2 tablespoons of palm sugar (date palm, not coconut)
- dried sultanas (I’d get them from an ethnic Western Asian store), or golden raisins. They’re essentially the same, just produced slightly differently.
- half stick of cinnamon
- cloves
- Cognac
You’ll also need a small pan and a heatproof spatula or wooden spoon.
- Get your water on high. Once boiling, add the oats and mix. Add the sultanas, cinnamon and a few cloves.
- Once firmed up a bit and not watery, add a small amount of butter. A teaspoon or two should do the trick. We’ll be adding a touch more at the end. Crumble up the sugar with your fingers and stir constantly until the water is absorbed. I like mine sorta gloopy but so the oats hold their shape, still swollen with water.
- Add a splash of cognac. I use about 2 tablespoons. Mix briefly while on heat. Then kill the heat and give it some time to soak up.
- Serve. I keep the cinnamon and cloves in as long as I can but you can remove them if you don’t want to accidentally bite into them. I finish with a modest pad of butter and let it melt over the top, eating a little with each bite. So good.
More ideas:
- You can use currants, regular raisins, or other dried fruits in addition to or instead of sultanas.
- Soaking the dried fruits in alcohol will add a KICK to your morning
You can also be less of an alchy and soak in water, juice (see * below) or a flavored syrup for a few hours. - The date palm sugar provides a sweetness that is extremely mellow. It almost melds with everything else. You can tell it’s sweet but you might not necessarily realize why. Cane sugar is often much less discrete. If you don’t have palm sugar, brown sugar is a good substitute. There’s also muscavato sugar, and a variety of others. Give them a shot, you’ll feel your culinary world open before your eyes.
- leave the butter out and it’s vegan. If you want some richness, there are plenty of substitutes!
- A tiny hint of heavy cream? Gorgeous. Or, I’d imagine this would top a nice, rich ice cream brilliantly. The heat, melting the cream? I can almost taste it now.
- A squeeze of *orange juice would pair nicely with the spices and alcohol, and add acidity to balance the richness of the butter and or cream—if you’re using it.
This is made almost exclusively with pantry stuffs, relatively cheap, fast, delicious, can be made for many people, and is relatively healthy.
Best of all?
You don’t have to take your dentures out to eat it!
Greek Siesta Snack
Sep 18th
Yes. Tostones are good. But this is better. Simple, filling, delicious, and pretty cheap assuming you have a few pantry staples. Best yet, you won’t find this in any cookbook (I’d hope, anyway). It’s not even a recipe, just a rustic happenstance that occurs across much of the Mediterranean.
I learned it from my Yiayia while relaxing on her terrace in Greece, here:
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The miserable might of the early afternoon sun sends most people home for lunch and a nap—the beach would be refreshing were it not for that excessively radiating ball of gas, which burns even those whose skin is darker than cinnamon. 110ºF plus is not uncommon. So, to recreate a Summer afternoon in a Greek paradise, stay home and gather the following:
- Bread, unsliced, homemade or from your baker—it can even be a day old. Baguettes and peasant loaves work wonderfully. And while I’m at it, fuck sliced bread and abominations that come in plastic bags. Seriously, fuck that inferior fodder. Bread should have 5 ingredients: flour, water, yeast, salt, air. Additional herbs, cheese and so on are fine, but when your bread even has an ingredients list, you’re fucked, hard. No apologies. It’s inexcusable that most Americans don’t even know the simple pleasure of real bread. Off my high horse. I’ll post a recipe eventually. Back to the ingredients.
- Extra virgin olive oil. Don’t skimp. Or I’ll drop another rant on your ass.
- Balsamic vinegar. Always get the best you can afford—but any will do, really.
- Ripe tomatoes. I usually use Romas, but any will do.
- Dried oregano. It’s not a Greek kitchen without olive oil and oregano
- Kosher or larger crystal sea salt
- Freshly cracked black pepper
- 1/2 a red onion or a large shallot
Optional are:
- Feta. Not absolutely necessary, but awesome. Get a whole block in brine. If you ever admit to me in person that you buy crumbled feta, I’ll smack you. Seriousl
- Water. If your bread’s a little hard, sop the bread with some H20. Not too much, it should still be able to absorb the oil, vinegar, and tomato.
- Capers in brine. Yum.
You’ll also need:
- a large, flat-ish bowl or dish
- hands; the more the merrier
- a trusty knife and board (if necessary)
Okay. Simple simple. Rip your bread into chunks big enough to hold and gnash on. Two or three bites—big and place in the bowl. This is where you sop the bread if need be. We usually do it even with fresh bread because it helps everything meld together. Cut the tomatoes into wedges and distribute over the bread. Do the same with the onion or shallot. Season with salt, pepper, and oregano. Drizzle with olive oil and balsamic vinegar, roughly 3:1 respectively. If you want feta, cut off a piece and crumble it up by hand, as fine as you like. Let it sit for a bit to absorb the flavors. We sometimes even use our [clean] hands to mash it roughly together so each piece of bread becomes imparted with all the flavors.
Grab a piece, make sure it’s got a bit of everything on it, and sink your teeth in. Amazing
N.B. I’m a huge fennel and tarragon fan—and I think those flavors would work here, as they do for a lot of light, refreshing Mediterranean fare. Give it a try!
Tostones – Fried Plantain Medallions
Sep 16th
This is one of the easiest and most rewarding dishes I’ve ever made. Ever.
These are eaten all over the Caribbean and Central America, and are also called patachones and tachinos. Since they’re starchier than bananas, they’re usually eaten with some sort of savory dish and used to sop up fats and liquids—but they’re also eaten as treats, which is how I’ve prepared them. Here’s how to do it. You’ll need:
- However many plantains you want to prepare. I’d get two or three the first time around.
- Oil. I prefer vegetable. Canola can suck it. Hard.
- Salt. Kosher please, thanks.
- Sugar (optional)
You’ll also need:
- a pan—preferably a wide one if you’re cooking a lot. I used a small 8–inch cast iron pan (I only used one plantain). I’d say at least a 12–inch pan if you’re cooking two or three.
- tongs
- a knife and cutting board
- a wooden spoon, spatula, or glass bottle
- a bowl of cool water
- a cloth towel for drying the plantains
- a drying rack or paper towels/bags to absorb excess oil
- a fry thermometer (optional)
First things first: get your pan on a medium high flame and fill it with 2cm of oil. Let it heat as you prep your plantains. If you’ve never seen a plantain…
Now you have.
They look super similar to bananas, but they’re not as easy to peel by hand. So, with a knife, cut off both ends. Then make a slit through the flesh from end to end. Remove the fruit and cut into 4cm lengths (roughly 1½ inches). The peel should look something like this:
Not all that different from a banana, but it is much stiffer, as is the fruit inside. Anyhow. Since the segments you cut are 4cm and the oil is 2cm, that means we’ll have to give them a flip to cook both sides. Once the oil is up to temperature (325°F) gently place in the segments so they rest on a flat, cut side. If you don’t have a fry thermometer (I don’t either, don’t worry), just guess. The oil should get excited initially, but should settle down after 30 seconds or so. If it continues to rage, turn the heat down slightly. You should be able to see the segments as they cook–they shouldn’t be completely enveloped in bubbling oil. Here’s a photo to clarify:
After about 1½ minutes or when the bottom halves have started to brown, give them a flip to the other flat side with your tongs. Cook again for 1½ minutes. They should look something like this:
Now remove them from the oil and let them drain a little on a cooling rack or paper towels. I kill the heat at this point because the cast iron retains the temperature and I don’t want the oil to burn. Using the wooden spoon (or other squashing implement), flatten each segment down to half it’s size, like this:
Then, place the medallions in the bowl of water for a minute or so. Don’t let them sit too long or they’ll absorb excessive moisture and fall apart. Keep this in mind when squashing them–don’t make them too flat! Remove them from the water and pat dry in a cloth towel.
Get the oil back to about the same temperature as before and gently place in the medallions. You’ll need a little more room this time around; work in batches if you need to so you don’t overcrowd the pan and lower the temperature. Also: when frying it’s best to place things in away from you, so the oil doesn’t splash onto you. Don’t blame me for your hospital visit! Work smart and safe, always. Here they are back in the oil:
Cook for about 4 minutes per side, until golden brown. Remove, drain, and season immediately with salt (even if making them sweet). If you want them to be sweet, sprinkle on a sugar variety of your liking. I like granulated or cane for the texture. You could even use a squeeze of lemon juice, some crème fraîche, or whipped cream to add some more richness and bite to this treat.
There you have it.
If you live in Milwaukee and are fry-tened (groan) to fry on your own, let me know and maybe we can arrange something.
Eat well, and cook safely!
Tzatziki – Greek Yogurt and Cucumber Sauce
Aug 29th
You’ve probably eaten it on gyros – which is entirely fine. But most likely, it came out of a plastic squeeze bottle, watered down and soapy – which is not so fine. Most Greek food places use inferior ingredients. Sorry, countrymen, but garbage in, garbage out. And when the garbage out is synonymous with the food you shovel into your face…things aren’t good.
Here’s how to make it at home, like my mom, aunt, and yiayia make it. You’ll need:
- a small cucumber, peeled (save the peels and put them on your forehead to cool down in the summer. I also eat them or compost when possible)
- garlic cloves – one or two will do
- 1+ cups of strained yogurt – only get Greek or Middle Eastern. It should be thick, creamy, and rich. I avoid low fat yogurt which tends to be filled preservatives and other junk – and just doesn’t taste as good. I generally don’t endorse brands, but if you don’t know what to get try Fage Total. It’s increasingly available, and even their 0% fat version beats the living hell out of excuses for yogurt like Yoplait.
- lemon juice or vinegar to taste (only about 2 teaspoons)
- 2 teaspoons chopped mint or dill, chives, parsley, etc
- olive oil
- salt & pepper
(notice the super high fat content, and only four ingredients. It could be argued that there are only 2 ingredients, but lets not push it. Four is low enough)
- a small or medium bowl
- a grater
- a paring knife (or veg peeler)
- a fork
Cut the cucumber in half lengthwise and scoop the seeds out. I eat them. You can do as you please. Then peel with the paring knife and grate into the bowl. My mom squeezes out the excess water using towels or a colander – but its not entirely necessary. This is mostly for texture and crunch, so add as much as you like.
Use the back of a fork to smash the garlic into a paste. Add it to the bowl along with the lemon juice or vinegar. Lemons are more traditional especially in the summer. Just squeeze the juice into a clean cupped hand to filter out the seeds before adding to the bowl. The citric or acetic acid serves to cut the richness of the fat and to enhance the natural tanginess of the lactic acid present in the yogurt. Now, mix in the yogurt.
Optionally, add the mint or dill and season with salt (I like several cracks of fresh black pepper too) and mix everything together. Finish generously with extra virgin olive oil – give it a swirl to blend it in but not too much – and garnish with dill, cucumber segments, olives, or anything that seems suitable. If it looks ridiculous it probably is – if not, then its probably fine. Don’t sweat it.
Tzatziki is traditionally sopped with bread or eaten with meat, fish, or veggies. The richness of the fat and the acidity of the lemons compliment the strong flavors of many Greek, Mediterranean and Middle Eastern foods. You might want to double or triple the recipe – it goes quickly, especially in my family. If it makes it past the dinner table, it should keep a week plus, covered in the fridge. Oh, and the longer it sits in the fridge, the more the flavors meld – I’d suggest making it a few hours ahead of time at least.
N.B. After finding some fennel in the fridge, it occurred to me that the anise flavor would work well with the yogurt. Serving tzatziki with shaved fennel rather than or in addition to cucumber would work especially well if pairing it with another food prepared with fennel or tarragon, such as fish. But that’s an entirely different post!
Garam Masala inspired Rice with Sautéed Mushrooms and Onions
Aug 21st
Rifling through a book at work landed me on a page with a recipe for garam masala, the classic Indian spice mix. Seeing those ingredients got my wrinklepatch whirring like mad! What if I were to combine flavors from two disparate cuisines?
There’s nothing new about the idea – afterall, there’s surf-n-turf, East/West fusion, and the wonderful explosion of Mediterranean dishes whose origins are often debated, and passionately at that.
So what’s different? Maybe not much, but when I think of the cardamom, cloves, cinnamon, bay leaves, nutmeg, and cumin in garam masala … I immediately think: India. Sautéed mushrooms with onions isn’t as clear – but they certainly are traditional in French, Italian, and American cuisine. I’d never really thought about combining the two – but figured it couldn’t hurt.
The recipe is simple – rough measurements if any, so use your discretion. Lightly toast some cardamom pods, cloves, and whole black pepper corns in a hot pan. I also added some very roughly chopped chiles. Then add a little butter and oil to the pan. Once the fat is nice and hot, brown the rice. Add the water to the pan as well as a stick of cinnamon and wait till it simmers. Turn to low and cover for 18-20 minutes, or according to how you normally cook rice.
While the rice was cooking, I chopped three medium portobello mushrooms into a large dice, and did the same with a large onion. I sautéed both in a medium pan with butter, adding salt and pepper to taste. The sautéed stuff finished about the same time as the rice. I simply removed all the spices from the rice, and served the sautéed mushroom and onions on top, heavily garnished with roughly chopped parsley.
I really enjoyed using fridge and pantry stuff to try something I’d never done before – which was infusing the rice with the aforementioned spices. If oil was used rather than butter, this would be entirely vegan! You could even drizzle a little lemon juice on top for a nice acidic bite. If you come up with some other ideas, let me know by posting a comment. Thanks for reading!