Croissant Dough

Look at all the thin layers on this baby.  This croissant dough will be used in my next two posts.  I thought this was going to be a real project, and I psyched myself up for it.  It wasn't so difficult after making puff pastry, which is very similar.  If you can just set aside a block of time -- there are resting periods (both for the dough and yourself) -- it's very doable.  The timing was an intimidation factor.  The recipe from Sarabeth's Bakery says the dough must be frozen for a minimum of 24 hours and thawed for at least 8 hours, but cannot be frozen for more than 4 days.  So you'll have to choose two days: one in which you have time to make the dough, and another to bake it that comes at least 36 hours later but not more than 4 days.

Croissant dough is made much like puff pastry dough.  I was surprised not to see weight measurements for a bread recipe from a bakery book, but it worked out fine with volume measurements.  Clockwise from top left: The yeasted dough is made and then slashed with an X to represent four sections later; butter and flour are beat together and them formed into a square; the dough with the X is rolled out into four sections, and the butter is placed on the raised square in the middle; the dough flaps are wrapped all around the butter and flipped over.

Clockwise from top left: The second "book" turn of dough is folded slightly to the right, and then the left is brought over; then the entire piece of dough is folded in half; the third and final turn of dough is done (both the first and third turns are simply folded into thirds like a letter); and the dough is sliced in half before being wrapped in the freezer.

There are lots of steps, but don't be intimidated.  I wish I could include the illustrations that came with the book as a guide, but you can refer to some of mine.

Brisket Melt

I had this sandwich with my sister at a restaurant last month.  It was a bitterly cold day, and we were starving.  I couldn't decide what to order, and asked Sis what she was getting.  "The brisket melt," she said, and I decided I had to have it too.  The brisket was juicy and fall-apart tender, and served on challah with melted cheese, onions, and peppers.  And I've been thinking of it ever since.

This version proved to be real easy.  Instead of placing the brisket and vegetables in a roasting pan covered with foil like the recipe said, I used my cast iron braiser and its lid.  Stick it all in the braiser, then in the oven, and come back in a few hours.  Toast a roll, melt some cheese on it, top it with some sliced brisket and onions, and you're done.  And really full.

I used Ina Garten's Brisket recipe, but downsized it for a 2½-pound brisket instead of the 6 or 7 pounds the recipe calls for.  If you can't find brisket at your supermarket, ask the butcher.  My only other deviation from the recipe was to use a can of tomato puree with some water instead of the tomato juice the recipe calls for, since I thought that was a weird choice of braising liquid and I didn't have any.

At Last... Madeleines!

I have finally made a worthy madeleine, and it is a thing of beauty.  They are cakey and tender in the middle, crisp at the edges, shell-shaped with well-defined ridges, and lemony in an understated, floral kind of way.

I got some inspiration recently at my most favorite afternoon tea place in the world, the Taj Boston.  They have harpists and violinists, for cryin' out loud, and I love the beautiful china.  I hate it when tea is served in stainless steel pots.  But look at these amazing desserts.  There are (working from the top down) chocolate-covered strawberries, lavender sables, cornmeal scones, currant scones, lemon curd and Devonshire cream, macarons, citrus tarts, pistachio financiers, opera tortes, and, of course, little madeleines.  Sugar rush, anybody??

What obstacle lay in my madeleine path?  For years I had this beautiful mini-madeleine pan, because I love all things bite-sized.  But though they were tasty and developed that hump the madeleine is known for, they never took on those beautiful ridges. So, in my opinion, it wasn't a proper madeleine. I wondered if it was some error of mine or a bad recipe.  Finally, I got a full-sized madeleine pan, one that produced beautiful ridges on the cookies.  Only they came out burnt brown, even though I opted for the lower end of the baking time in the recipe.  But determination won out, and I think these madeleines are perfect. Maybe some lavender or Earl Grey varieties are up next?

After the madeleine batter rested overnight, it became thick and developed air bubbles, like a yeasted dough. The batter is then scooped into the pan.  The first batch came out burnt, even though I followed the recipe!  I shaved off a couple of minutes the next time, and they came out to golden perfection.

Mixing Up the Chicken Pot Pie

This idea was born out of Thanksgiving leftovers.  After a few days of eating the same-old, I made a pot pie filling and threw in the turkey with the roasted butternut squash and spinach I had served on the holiday table, then topped it with pie dough and baked.  Sounds weird, I know, but it's incredibly good.  So good that I've roasted whole chickens and butternut squashes a few times since just to have the pie all over again.

The squash is a nice change from the carrots that often feature in pot pies.  And the idea of spinach in the filling may wrinkle noses, but it's a nice contrast for the richness, and the taste and texture are surprisingly mild.  Joe really loved it.  After this, I'm not sure we'll ever go back to ol' peas-and-carrots chicken pot pie again.

Flour is stirred into the cooked onions, carrot, and celery, and then chicken stock is added to make the creamy sauce.  The chicken, butternut squash, and spinach are added.  Rounds of dough are cut for the pie tops, and holes are made in the top to let steam escape.

This thrown-together recipe makes a lot.  As in a 10-inch deep-dish pie plus two individual pies.  You can eat them for days, freeze them, or halve the recipe.  It's nice to be able to pull a homemade pot pie out of the freezer on a hectic day, far better than anything you can buy from the frozen section.

Blizzard Chocolate-Banana Bread Pudding

Just what does everyone make with the milk, bread, and eggs they buy before a big storm hits?  One possibility when you're all holed up is bread pudding!  OK, so this one is a little richer with half-and-half instead of milk, and you've got to have some chocolate and bananas on hand.  But when you need a break from shoveling a foot of snow and shaking your fist at the plowmen who piled a snow wall at your driveway, there will be bread pudding waiting for you.

Not my house, in case you had stalking intentions.  But the scene is pretty.  My honest thoughts about the bread pudding?  Definitely better cold, and not warm from the oven.  And it was good, but I think I had built up my expectations too high.  I'd rather have chocolate cake, or a banana split.  Even better, cinnamon raisin bread pudding.

The bread was soaked in the chocolate custard overnight.  I almost forgot to add the bananas the next morning before they went in the oven!  You can see that I switched the square pan up to a larger size.  Both the ramekins and the 10-by-7-inch pan were done in 45 minutes, in case you're interested in making smaller batches.  I also halved the recipe, since it makes a lot of bread pudding!

Flour's Pineapple Upside-Down Cake

I had previously made an easier Pineapple Upside-Down Cake, but this recipe from Flour proves that a little more trouble can really make it worth your while.  A homemade caramel takes some time but isn't hard to do, and fresh pineapple soaks up the caramel.  The cake is rich and moist but crisp at the edges.

If I had one complaint, it's that the caramel was just a tad too sweet.  Just a tad.  But my preference for sweets isn't the same as everyone else's, and Joe said the cake and level of sweetness were perfect.

I get intimidated by caramels because of how easily those damned crystals form, but this one was simple enough.  The sugar-water mixture starts out clear, then develops a golden tinge.  At bottom-left, you can see the outer ring is still clear and the pot needs to be swirled before the whole mixture becomes golden brown.

I'm glad Joe helped make this, not least because it's really hard to snap photos while whisking burning-hot caramel!  Butter is whisked in, making the caramel steam and froth; pineapple is added and cooked in the caramel, then removed to a plate before being placed in the cake pan.

The caramel is poured over the pineapple, and then topped with the cake batter.  After the cake is baked and cooled, it gets up-ended onto a serving platter.  Each bite gives you a little burst of juice from the caramelized pineapple, and cake that's rich and moist.

Mom's Braised Asian Ribs, and My 100th Post!

One of my pet peeves is calling a dish "Asian," but I didn't know how else to describe these ribs made with mirin, sake, and fish sauce.  After all, nothing gets labeled as European Salad Dressing or European Spice Rub.  I often call my family's dishes Chinese, Malaysian, or Singaporean, but this one is a mix of Japanese and Southeast Asian flavors.  Mom says she got the idea from some cooking show, probably one of the Taiwanese or Hong Kong shows she watches, and copied the general idea.  So while I was visiting in New York the week before Christmas, I showed her how to make carrot cake while she taught me this recipe.  She's cute -- I think she intends on doing a recipe swap every time I visit.  She says my dad adores these ribs, and after Joe tasted hers he was excited I was making them too.

One thing worth mentioning: In my hurry at the supermarket, I didn't realize I bought boneless country-style ribs.  This resulted in the fattier pieces becoming juicy and fall-apart tender, while the leaner pieces were a bit tough and dry-textured.  Buy spare ribs, not too lean, with bones in them.

Oh, and it's my 100th post!  Yay!

From top-left: The ribs are seared on each side; ginger and garlic are sauteed briefly; the ribs simmer in mirin, sake, water, fish sauce, and ketchup; they are braised until the meat is fall-apart tender.  Think ketchup is a strange ingredient?  The condiment originated in Asia, and some say ketchup comes from a Malaysian word.  The sauce is delicious, lightly infused with ginger and the other flavors, so pour it over.