Cheese 101

School on a Saturday is never fun. That is, unless it involves plenty of cheese, wine, artisanal beer and a tour of a famous cheese cave at Formaggio Kitchen in Cambridge. In which case, sign me up!

Last weekend, Konrad and I joined twenty or so eager pupils for Cheese 101, an introductory class on the wonders of cheese. Piled into the tiny shop after the close of regular business, we huddled around the cheese case and focused our attention on two wise cheesemongers perched on crates. Over the course of two hours, we tasted our way through ricotta, clochette, robiola, comte and clothbound cheddar (with beverage pairings and accompaniments) as we learned about their respective histories, depth of flavor, storage needs and options for pairings and accompaniments. At the end of the night, we even got a peek into their celebrated cheese cave. Back in the 90s when it was built, they were the first cheese store in the United States to have one!

Ever the overachievers, Konrad and I took a sample of clochette (a bell-shaped goat cheese, which we learned is named after the French term for "little bell" !), and bright-tasting Raphael Citrus Preserves home with us. After reviewing our notes, we conducted an experiment over brunch the next morning. The results? They are still delicious, even in the light of day :)

Guinness and Irish Cheddar Fondue

Being vegetarian kind of puts a damper on the St. Patrick's Day food traditions. Full disclosure, those holiday dinners that my grandmother worked so hard on each year? I didn’t eat one bite of any of them when I was a kid, and not much has changed since then. Corned Beef? Lamb Stew? Shepherd’s Pie? Thank you, but no. Some try to mix up vegetarian versions, but the results aren't usually worth the effort. I've come to the conclusion that some things just aren't meant to moonlight as vegetarian fare. Then again, that could be my frustration talking.
 

Fed up and uninspired, this year we threw up our hands and celebrated in perhaps the least traditional way of all... with fondue! Guinness Stout and Irish Cheddar Fondue, to be exact. While fondue certainly can't call itself Irish with a straight face, considering the sum of its parts (Irish Cheese & Irish Stout) buys this version some legitimacy and one taste of its flavor makes you wonder what difference it makes anyway. At the end of the day, who doesn't love liquor-spiked food enough to turn a blind eye on the technicalities?

Guinness and Irish Cheddar Fondue (for two!)
Adapted from Food.com

1lb Irish aged cheddar cheese, grated
1/2 cup Guinness stout
1/2 tablespoon corn starch
Salt and pepper to taste

Crusty bread for serving

Cut the bread into cubes and set aside. Grate the cheese into a medium-sized bowl. Add corn starch and toss well. In a mid-sized pot, heat the stout over medium heat until hot but not boiling. Slowly add cheese to the stout, stirring constantly. Once all of the cheese has melted and the mixture is smooth, add salt and pepper to taste. Transfer contents to a fondue pan with a tabletop burner. Enjoy!

Irish Coffee

St. Patrick’s Day for me means Irish Coffee: A frothy, if potent, treat that my family used to enjoy each year. Growing up, my grandmother would serve them after a hearty holiday dinner in fancy stemmed glasses decorated with tiny green shamrocks. Everyone would smile and clink glasses; I would pretend to do the same and then my mom would share sips with me until I was old enough to have my own glass. The glasses have since been lost and I am a long ways from my childhood home, but I make do with mugs and plenty of fond memories. In fact, I've been celebrating all week!

Irish Coffee is a common offering on drink menus these days but precious few establishments make it decently. The key, in my opinion, is freshly whipped cream and plenty of it. The cream settles into a frothy float at the top of the glass. Drinking the coffee through the froth affords a sweet richness to each sip and makes me one happy lady. Of course, the whiskey you choose also makes a big difference. Personally, my loyalty lies with Bushmills. I am told that there is a bit of a religious divide among the Irish when it comes to brands, with Catholics favoring Jameson and Protestants favoring Bushmills. My family is many things, including Catholic-leaning and Irish, but apparently no one got the memo that we were drinking the wrong whiskey. And now it is too late to matter (that is, if it ever would have mattered) because, after all these years, Irish Coffee with any thing other than Bushmills just wouldn’t be the same.

Irish Coffee

1 shot Irish whiskey
1 tablespoon and 2 teaspoons granulated sugar
12 ounces freshly brewed, unflavored coffee
Heavy whipping cream

In a small bowl, lightly whip the cream with one tablespoon of sugar and set aside. Pour whisky and remaining sugar into a cocktail glass or mug and stir until the granules are dissolved. Add coffee and top with several plentiful dollops of whipped cream. Allow to sit momentarily before enjoying. Do not stir after adding cream.

Cheddar Beer Soup

  

I’m a sucker for fun ingredients, especially anything liquor-based. My lovely friend (and mighty foodie) Gretchen introduced me to Cheddar Beer Soup a few years back and it wasn't long before the recipe found its way into our steady rerun pile. Its the perfect excuse to invest in some British ale; that is, if you ever need one!

Those who know me know how sentimental I can be and British ale brings out the best of it. Back in 2000,Gretchen and I were bright-eyed and liquor-hungry twenty-one year olds studying abroad in jolly old England. I was in Oxford and Gretchen was in London, staying with a host family on the outskirts of town. I’d come to visit her and we'd take the tube into the city for a night of drinking, dancing and merrymaking. As the subway zipped us to our station, we’d get our drink on with Boddingtons and Strongbow in hand (these were my pre-beer appreciation days). The best part? Drinking on the tube was totally legit. Right up until 2008, anyway.

While not quite as exciting as drinking on public transportation, this soup is an easy and tasty way to get your drink on at home. The beer, vegetable stock (per Gretchen's advice I made it vegetarian by substituting this for the chicken stock and adding a couple of potatoes instead of the bacon), milk, and cheese cook down into a rich mixture that is intensely addicting. Plus, all of the alcohol cooks off in the process, so you won’t actually get liquored up while getting your beer fix; a slight defect that it more than makes up for in flavor. Pair it with a pint or two, if you're in the mood, and you’ll get the best of both worlds. 

Note: Click the colored text for the recipe and other information!

Vanilla-Black Pepper Ice Cream

As far as Valentine’s Day gifts go, I generally prefer a simple bunch of well-intended tulips to other, more showy items. That was, until this little gem happened to cross my computer screen: The most perfect ice cream maker I’ve EVER seen. Daintily clad in bright red with whimsical ruffles, this machine will remind you, lest you ever forget, that making ice-cream should always be a festive occasion. It was love at first sight, I tell you. I didn’t even bother dropping hints; I came right out and pleaded, blathering on about all of the wonderful things we could make. And all this to a man who doesn’t even like sweets! Thankfully, I married a most obliging fellow, who quickly typed in the order (no doubt to spare himself from more recipe talk!) and even threw in some tulips to boot.

Cuisinart Perfection

Earlier this week there was a knock at the door and there she was, patiently waiting for me on our front stoop with the UPS Man.  I let her freshen up and relax in the freezer for the night before getting to work on the following evening. First order of business? Vanilla-Black Pepper Ice Cream. Molly Wizenberg writes about it in her book, A Homemade Life: Stories and Recipes from My Kitchen Table, which is a collection of charming short stories and equally pleasing recipes. Having been introduced to the wonders of peppercorn in lending chai tea lattes their fiery bite, I was ever so intrigued to see what it could do for ice cream. The only problem being that her recipe called for eggs. Opinions are split on the matter of eggs in ice cream, but I'm decidedly opposed. All I need to make me perfectly happy are milk, cream, sugar, and vanilla frozen into icy deliciousness, along with the occasional chocolate chip and/or drop of peppermint extract for variety. Add eggs into the mix and it becomes way too much, at least for me.

I substituted my family’s basic vanilla recipe instead and added the suggested amount of black pepper towards the end. I was a little worried that not heating the pepper over the stove might have negative consequences but the results were as she promised they would be: Bright vanilla flavor followed by a gentle hint of heat. A fine treat on its own or served up alongside a slab of chocolate cake. Oh and it also pairs nicely with Girl Scouts Thin Mint Cookies, but then again, doesn’t everything?!

Vanilla-Black Pepper Ice Cream

Adapted from A Homemade Life

1 3/4 cups whole milk

2 cups cream

2/3 cup sugar 

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

1 1/2 teaspoons ground black pepper (or to taste)

Whisk together milk, cream, sugar and vanilla in a medium-sized bowl until the sugar is completely dissolved. Pour into the base of your ice-cream maker and let the machine take it away. Depending on your machine it should take 20-30 minutes. Add pepper roughly five minutes before the ice-cream is completely frozen to your liking.

 

Tulips in "burgundy" - Our wedding color :)

Ricotta Dumplings

Oh Valentine’s Day, I still don’t know what to think about you. I love you for your friendly red and white decorations, the familiar taste of candy hearts and the timeless thrill of receiving flowers (humble tulips please, not red roses!). But you irk me too. A day to declare your love? Really? How insincere and ostentatious of you. After all, shouldn’t we be saying it every day? And don’t get me started on how commercialized you’ve become.  Shame, shame, shame.  At the end of the day though, your invitation to indulge in a lavish meal never fails to win me over.

When we first started dating, Konrad and I hit the Valentine’s Day restaurant scene with gusto: Soiree, West Side Lounge, Upstairs on the Square and others. I’d don my favorite strappy red dress, Konrad a shinny red tie and out we’d go. Then something changed; we wised up to the ridiculously inflated prices and got annoyed. We’ve been feting the occasion at home ever since. The results might not be quite as gourmet, but its still fun and pretty darn tasty too. Last year, Risotto Stuffed Red Peppers were on our menu followed by Chocolate Stout Cake with ganache frosting.  I forget what came the year before that except that it ended with Chocolate Orange Cake made by yours truly, which is really the most important part anyhow.

Celebrating a couple days early, this year savory Ricotta Dumplings, peppered with minced chives, graced our table. We served the little darlings, dressed in a festive red pepper sauce, following a simple salad. For dessert, we munched on chocolate-covered cocoa nibs and popped Anne of Green Gables into the DVD player. Another plus to the holiday? The ability to sweet talk suitors (or husbands) into watching movies they ordinarily wouldn’t under the guise of romance. In this case though, Konrad gets extra points for laughing at all the right places and sticking through both parts. Admittedly it was a half-hearted affair (sorely lacking home-baked treats!), thanks to my third-wheel of a migraine that tagged along (and for most of the weekend!), but an enjoyable time nonetheless. 

Oh Valentine’s Day, you get me every time.

My Furry Valentine

Chocolate Walnut Banana Bread

 

I spent the better part of last night pouty and all around grumpy. Grumpy because another snow storm was raging outside but no matter how many inches or feet we got, I’d still have to work in the morning. I know, I know. Life could be worse, but I was having a moment. I wanted a real snow day: the exciting and fancy-free kind where school is canceled, obligations are cast aside and you’re left with an entire day to bide your time at home (Making snow angels, baking bread, sipping cocoa and curling up with a book were exactly what I had in mind, and in that order). Well, it wasn’t going to happen no matter how much I frowned and stamped my feet.  

I decided that banana bread spiked with chocolate and walnuts was the best bet for redeeming the situation. I cued up the mixer and got the butter, sugar and eggs swirling while I whisked together the dry ingredients. The recipe calls for all-purpose flour; I used unbleached and subbed in a bit of whole wheat. Cheating just a bit, I zapped our very yellow and perfect bananas in the microwave until they were soft and mashable before adding them to the batter. Once everything had been incorporated, I poured the mixture into a loaf pan while pausing briefly to add layers of mini chocolate chips and walnuts. After baking for an hour, the bread emerged triumphant. With a dense texture perfectly punctuated by chocolate bits and nuts, I speak with authority when I tell you that it can stand its own against the worst cases of grumpiness. 

By morning the storm had passed and with it my grumpiness. Its amazing what sweets and sleep can do for your outlook. As expected, I did end up working, but it wasn’t so bad. I got to work from home and ignore our snow-covered car for most of the day. Besides, since the snow had stopped falling, it didn’t feel like snow day anyway. I set up shop on the couch with Kitty beside me and tapped productively on my laptop til closing-time, fueled by toasted banana bread and bottomless cups of coffee.

Go-To Feta Dish

We spent the weekend with Konrad's family in New Jersey. Visiting the in-laws is always a tasty and cultural experience. Being Romanian/Hungarian, they are introducing me to all sorts of new customs. Still fumbling like the European impostor that I am, I greet everyone with kisses on each cheek, remember that “da” means yes (tragically, about the extent of my Romanian speaking skillz), and look for meals to be served in courses.

The first is a homemade “supa,” which is usually soured with borș and consumed with a dollop of sour cream mixed in. This is followed by a larger, more substantial, second course, such as the Goulash his father prepares over an open fire in the backyard or the sausage which he smokes himself. Being the lone vegetarian, I am given papanash, which are tender ricotta dumplings. Before all this begins though, we are greeted with a spread of crusty bread, butter, and feta cheese to nibble on. Purchased from their local Greek store, the feta is some of the best I’ve had since a college backpacking trek landed us in Santorini, and could be a meal in itself for me. 

Inevitably, there is a bit of a battle when we leave. Konrad’s mom graciously sends us off with seemingly infinite bags brimming with treats. This never fails to overwhelm Konrad who, flexing his engineering degree, is doing his best to meticulously pack the trunk as if he were putting together a jigsaw puzzle. He can get rather cranky, but is more appreciative when we get back and unload everything. Her provisions often last us for at least a week and almost always include a fresh block of feta cheese. Thanks to his mom, we are rarely without a ready supply of it. 

At home, our go-to feta dish is Orzo with Roasted Vegetables, a creation by none other than the lovely Barefoot Contessa herself. To prepare, chop up a selection of peppers, onions and eggplant, toss with olive oil, and roast for a little under an hour. Just before the vegetables finish, prepare the orzo. As it cooks, whisk the juice from two lemons with olive oil, salt and pepper. Drain the orzo and in a large bowl mix the vegetables and pasta together. Allow to cool before stirring in the lemon dressing and topping with scallions, basil and a good bit of crumbled feta. "Foarte bun!"

Rosemary Enthusiasm

I read once that that flowers and greens had special meanings in Victorian times. Roses suggested love, ferns implied fascination, ivy signified friendship, bay leafs stood for faithfulness and basil meant hatred.  

The list goes on, but rosemary was said to represent remembrance. It also happens to be one of Konrad’s favorite things. So, when his birthday rolled around earlier this week, this recipe for Rosemary Olive Oil Cake seemed particularly fitting. After all, birthdays are a time for reflection as well as for celebration and indulgence, right?  I think so, anyway. Besides, the recipe didn’t seem overly sweet, which I was sure would be a win. I’m not sure how anyone can not enjoy sugar or how I managed to marry such a person, but such is Konrad.  

The cake itself was pretty easy to make; the only special ingredient being spelt, which I never did find. I substituted some whole wheat flour and let the cake cook a little while longer. There was some nervous nail biting on my end, wondering if I'd botched my husband's birthday cake, but everything came out fine. The olive oil and eggs made for a moist consistency and the uneven chocolate bits provided a fun, rich texture. The best part, by far, though was the crackly sugar top. I used regular brown sugar for the cake but added turbinado on the top and it worked perfectly.

As for the signature ingredient, I have to tell you that I am not the biggest fan of rosemary. I like it, I just don’t love it.  At first I thought the flavor was too much, but it’s actually grown on me. I keep going back for more and more tastes, which usually means something good. Konrad was happy though, and that’s what I was hoping for. Perhaps you need to be a rosemary enthusiast to enjoy a cake like this or maybe the cake will turn you into one. I haven't decided yet!

Milk Punch

We lost our cute tree last night and our apartment is feeling rather empty this morning. The poor fellow had gotten hopelessly dry and it was time to let him go, or else I might have had him up until March. Apparently, other people have come to similar conclusions. Lately, our neighborhood has resembled a wasteland of abandoned Christmas trees: Trees line the streets like guests who have overstayed their welcome and been unceremoniously tossed out on their backsides. I like to think we're better than that. So, we did things a bit differently; we sent ours out with a drink.

Ever since I saw this recipe for Milk Punch on SmittenKitchen, I’d been itching to make it. In truth, I wasn’t ready to let go of the holidays just yet. I needed one more night. So, I mixed up a batch and cued the holiday tunes. After dinner, we carefully removed the glass bulbs, garlands and lights from the branches in between sips of punch and tucked them away downstairs. Made with bourbon, milk punch is a lot like eggnog but without the eggs and served slightly frozen. I still think I prefer the latter with its insanely rich texture and long history in my family, but the former was certainly a pleasant treat (especially on an otherwise bland, post-holiday, Wednesday night!).

It was just what I needed to close out the season and the perfect send-off for our friend. At the end of the night, we escorted him downstairs and left him to catch his ride (sadly, to the recycling heap with the DPW truck this morning). The last I saw of him, he was tipsily leaning against a phone pole and swaying a bit to keep warm. Is it too early to start counting the days until next Christmas? (Apparently not, its 352 to be exact. Thanks, internet!)

 

Red Cabbage

I do my best to channel my mom's cooking skills in all that I do. Well, my mom's and my brother's, that is. I usually do pretty decently: The results aren't spectacular but, in most cases, respectable. This I am okay with. I like that there is room for growth, it gives me something to work towards. It just might be that I have met my match in red cabbage, though. It's an old family recipe that someone somewhere said would bring good luck if consumed on New Year's Day. My mom used to make it every year and, when I was a kid, my grandmother would serve it at the stroke of midnight on New Year Eve.

I'd been looking forward to making it for our first year as marrieds. Alas, things didn't quite go my way. To begin with, I started the process about 24 hours too late. My mom always slow cooked her's for hours, if not days. Fail 1. The four hours I simmered mine didn't quite measure up. It also helps when you have the right ingredients. Remembering that the stores were closing early for the holiday, I ran to Shaw's (Russo's was already closed, sigh...) on my way home. I did my best to mentally rundown the recipe, but ended up with apple cider instead of apple cider vinegar. Fail 2. By the time I realized the mistake, everything was already closed. I used a combination of white vinegar and apple cider and then tossed in the requisite "handfuls" of brown sugar and cloves (I love the way my mom wrote recipes!). The substitution seemed to work fairly well and a familiar aroma began to waft through our cozy apartment.

I set the timer for half-hour increments to remind me to stir the cabbage as it simmered on LOW and curled up on the couch with my work. Apparently cabbage requires more attention than I thought. It made sure I knew about it and fast. By the time I noticed the smell overpowering the air, the entire bottom layer of cabbage was charred black. Fail 3. If this were baseball, I'd be out. Honestly, I'm surprised that our fire alarms didn't go off. The pot is still soaking in our sink and I'm not entirely sure it will ever look the same.  Luckily, I was able to salvage most of it and try again in a separate pot, stirring it faithfully every five minutes. Eventually it cooked down to something resembling my family's dish, but it just wasn't the same.  Nonetheless, we served it for dinner along with my mom's mashed potatoes (hello, condensed milk!), brussels sprouts, filet mignon for Konrad, and some prosecco to toast.

It was a nice start to a new family tradition, even with all the blunders. My mom used to laugh when I putzed around the kitchen, like the year I baked her a mother's day cake that didn't rise. It 'tickled' her, she said. I'm sure where ever she is, she was laughing last night and that makes me smile too. And who knows? Maybe there's hope for me and the red cabbage next year. 

Mum’s Red Cabbage 

1 medium red cabbage, cored and thinly sliced
1 medium onion, diced
1 cup apple vinegar
4 cloves
2 “handfuls” of brown sugar, which I equate to a 1/4 cup
2 tablespoons butter 

Heat butter in base of tall pan over medium heat. Sauté onion. Add vinegar, cloves and sugar. Slowly add cabbage.  Reduce heat to low. Cook for several hours. Stir often (my addition!)

 

Eggnog

What to do when you’re homesick at Christmastime? Make all of your favorite family recipes, of course. At least that’s been my strategy lately. I hail from a long line of bakers and this is what we do for the holidays.  Tackling one recipe a night (more or less), I've slowly amassed a collection of time-honored sweets: My brother’s rocky road, Grandmother Mom’s pecan balls, Aunt Candy’s almond-frosted shortbreads, and the almond biscotti recipe I found in college (as well as a few fun additions: Sparking Berries, peppermint bark & Double Chocolate Peppermint Crunch Cookies!).

As always, the pièce de résistance was my mom’s signature eggnog recipe. To be clear, homemade eggnog is nothing like what you find in grocery stores. Made from eggs cooked overnight in whiskey, and stirred with whipped cream, milk, vanilla and nutmeg, it is a potent cup of creamy deliciousness. Each of these recipes congers up fond memories of Christmases past, but none so much eggnog. Just the scent of it alone takes me back to sipping bits of it as a young girl, the cheer of family gatherings, laughter-filled card and dice games, and late night chats with my mom. Over the years, circumstances inevitably changed - family was scattered and loved ones were lost - but these recipes continue to be a core part of the holiday season for those of us who are together.

It was both comforting and thrilling to carry these traditions forward and share them with my ‘new’ family this year.  Looking ahead, I expect that things will continue to change and my holiday traditions will evolve as Konrad and I blend our families' customs. Nonetheless, I think its safe to say that at least eggnog will continue to be a part of Christmas for us -  I couldn't imagine the holidays without it!
 
Mum's Eggnog
6 eggs
2 cups whiskey
2 cups whipping cream
1 cup confectioner's sugar
1/2 cup whole milk 
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Separate eggs. Beat yolks with 1/2 cup sugar until fluffy. Stir in 1 cup of whiskey. Refrigerate 3-4 hours or overnight.

Just before egg yolks are ready, beat egg whites with 1/4 cup sugar until stand. Mix egg whites with the yolks and stir in the remaining cup of whiskey. Let sit one hour or longer.

Beat whipping cream with remaining 1/4 cup sugar and vanilla. Fold into egg mixture and add milk.

Serve with a garnish of freshly grated nutmeg.

Maple Pecan Tart

Among many other things, I am thankful for maple sweets. I love all things maple, so when I found this recipe for a Maple Pecan Tart, I was smitten. A decadent pecan tart made with real maple syrup? Nevermind the fact that it also called for straight up corn syrup (the evil ingredient we try to avoid), it had Thanksgiving written all over it. Nothing that we consume on holidays counts anyway, right? Despite some minor cooking issues, it was definitely as tasty as I'd hoped. The crust and pecans were browning well before the filling had set, so I covered it and baked everything on reduced heat for double the time. Crisis averted. We shared it with Konrad's family and it was enjoyed by all, or at least so they said ;)

Pink Lady Cake

It was prettier before the cover smeared the frosting :(

So, it seems that birthdays change as we get older. It certainly helps when they fall on a weekend, so you can treat yourself to a lavish dinner out or toast drinks with friends, but weekday birthdays are pretty lackluster. This year mine fell on a Tuesday and promised to be especially uneventful. I expected to be at the office late and that the husband would be away on business. He purposely scheduled it so that he would be back the same day, but it was unlikely that I'd see him before eleven. Figuring that I'd be on my own, I got to thinking about what I should do. The obvious self-pampering options - facial, mani/pedi or hair appointment - weren't as enticing as they might have been since I'd had the works done a few weeks earlier for the wedding. I decided, instead, to bake a cake. I suppose it sounds pretty sad to be making your own birthday cake, but baking is something that always makes me happy. Besides, it was a great excuse to try a recipe for Pink Lady Cake that I'd been eying for months. So, that's what I did. The day turned out somewhat differently though. Konrad ended up catching a nasty cold and, after a sleepless and fever-ridden night, had to cancel his trip at the last minute (poor guy!). By the time I got home that night, he was feeling a bit better though and even had a present (a fun new camera!) and my favorite flowers waiting for me. So, we made dinner, had some cake and spent the rest of the evening looking at our newly posted professional wedding photos. All in all, it was a quiet but not a bad start to my thirty-second year :)

Roasted Butternut Squash with Chickpeas

This is my new favorite recipe: Roasted butternut squash mixed with garlic, chickpeas, red onions and topped with a zesty lemon tahini sauce (I followed Deb’s lead and nixed the allspice). I absolutely love it.  So much so that I went out and purchased extra squash after our voluminous farm share provisions ran out (noteworthy because we'd sworn off squash until next year!). This last time we substituted green onions, what we had on hand, and tossed in extra parsley. I dare say the combination made it even better.  Hearty, tasty and healthy, it’s the perfect fall dish.