On this day before Thanksgiving the Internets are sure to be chock full of swoon worthy recipes perfect for your Turkey Day table. For those of us who choose to give thanks with something other than Meleagris gallopavo, here are a few UnTurkey ideas.
Is pork more your flavor? Then perhaps you should invite David Lebovitz’s Carnitas to dinner.
Looking for a vegetarian option? How about a nice big bowl of Lentil Soup with Vegetables from Delicieux? Metric conversions aside, this is a quick and easy soup you will be thankful for.
I am a planner. Perhaps I’ve mentioned that before? I like to know where I’m going and how I’m getting there before I embark on a journey…whether it be out in the world or in my kitchen. So I hate it when I have a plan all nicely laid out and someone comes along and tells me that I should do something different. Change, especially last minute change, and I don’t see eye to eye. So it is grudgingly that I let it into my world.
Now that we’ve established that I’m the kind of person that would rather eat glass than do something like change my menu at the last minute, I’m going to put on my hypocrite hat and say that while I’m sure you have a lovely dessert planned for Thanksgiving this week, you need to forget about that. Because you absolutely need to make this pumpkin tart. I know that might sound like nails on a chalkboard to you (it would to me), but I would not suggest such a thing if it weren’t imperative that you become acquainted with this tart.
I’m not going to pretend that this tart is any less of a calorie bomb than its cousin, pumpkin pie. It’s got butter, sugar, chocolate, creme fraiche, and egg; there’s nothing light about it. The chocolate spice crust is a perfect complement to the custard filling that is silky and rich but avoids being heavy or overly sweet.
So why should you make a change this late in the game? Because in addition to being a welcome change from pumpkin pie and being an outstanding dessert on its own merits, pumpkin tart is unexpected. You can get a pumpkin pie anywhere. Walk into any grocery store or kwikimart and you’ll be bombarded with mass produced, industrial, pumpkin pies for sale. As tasty as they are, they’re a dime a dozen. While not any more complicated than a pumpkin pie, pumpkin tart just looks fancy. And that little bit of fancy makes you feel special.
So this Thanksgiving, go for special. Curse me all you want now as long as you are prepared to take every word back when you experience pumpkin tart.
Chocolate Tart Crust
Adapted from Martha Stewart
BAH Note: I have Sweet Mary to thank for introducing me to Pumpkin Tart. She brought it to our Inspired Supper and I was so impressed by the tart that I finally pulled out the tart pan that has been sitting in the cabinet for over a year and made it myself. Despite having the dough as cold as possible, I still found that it warmed up quickly resulting in sticking and tearing. If that happens, put the dough back in the fridge for ten or fifteen minutes to firm back up before continuing. A big hunk of dough ripped off as I was placing it in the pan so I just used my fingers to work the pieces back together. After it’s filled, you can’t tell whether you rolled your dough perfectly or whether it fought you like a rebellious teenager. So don’t sweat it.
1 cup all purpose flour
1/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon granulated sugar
1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter, frozen
1 large egg
4 oz bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped
Whisk together the flour, sugar, cocoa, salt, and spices in the work bowl of your mixer. Using a box grater, quickly grate the butter into the flour mixture. Using your hands, gently fold the butter into the flour mixture. Place the bowl, along with the paddle attachment from your mixer, into the refrigerator (or freezer if you have the room) for 20 to 30 minutes. Then mix on low for a few minutes until the mixtures resembles coarse meal and the butter is pea-sized. Add the egg and mix until everything just comes together to form a dough. Shape the into a disk, cover it in plastic wrap, and refrigerate for at least an hour, and up to a day, before proceeding.
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Roll the dough out to 1/8 inch thick on a lightly floured surface. Brush off the excess flour. Transfer the dough to your 10-inch tart pan with a removable bottom. Press the dough into the bottom and up the sides of the pan and trim the edges. Use a fork to lightly prick all over the bottom of the dough. Chill for 30 minutes.
Bake the shell until it is firm, about 15 minutes. Immediately sprinkle the bottom of the shell with the chopped chocolate and smooth with a spatula.
In a medium bowl, whisk together the pumpkin, brown sugar, creme fraiche, and spices. Taste for seasoning and add more spice as desired. Add the eggs and whisk until smooth. Pass the mix through a fine sieve set over a clean bowl, discarding any solids. Pour the filing into the prepared chocolate crust.
Bake at 350 degrees for about 40 minutes or until the filling is set. Transfer to a wire rack and cool for 30 minutes.
Melt the chocolate in the microwave in 30 second intervals until melted. Use a fork or piping bag with a very narrow tip to drizzle the chocolate over the tart forming decorative stripes. Chill for at least an hour before serving.
The following originally appeared on 8/5/09 at Exit 51
Sticker Shock
Last Saturday, the day after our carbolicous dinner party, we stocked up on supplies for the first week of our South Beach journey. Good thing there were leftovers to fill me up before this trip to the store. Looking at the grocery list as I navigated the grocery aisles, the hungries definitely could have tempted me to toss verboten items into the cart. But I came prepared. Continue reading “Flashback Friday – Sticker Shock”→
When was the last time you had a lollipop? Think about it. When you’re a kid, people hand you lollipops left and right. You get them at the bank and the doctor’s office. I even ran across something online recently where a dentist was giving out lollies to the kids. I guess that’s one way to ensure job security. But after you’re no longer cute by virtue of being young and precocious, the supply of lollies coming your way dries up.
My last real encounter with lollipops was in high school when the cheerleaders struck upon the idea of selling blowpops for a fundraiser. It was genius really. Those girls walked the halls with the bulk boxes of blowpops and we all flocked to them for the chance to exchange two quarters for a chunk of gum wrapped in a lollie shell. I think they had the entire student body of Elkton High School hooked on their sugary stash. But after that, lollipops and I pretty much went our separate ways. I would occasionally score a DumDum on my way out of the vet but they were never as good as I remembered them being from my days as a young, precocious thing. And then this summer the Universe took me to Seattle, home of This Charming Candy, and I rediscovered the joy of lollipops.
Run by Susan and Kate, This Charming Candy produces handmade lollipops. Can you believe that? Small batch, artisan lollipops. Here’s what it says on their Etsy Profile Page, “Susan made her first lollipops as part of a science project, believe it or not. She loved watching the syrup boil, learning how to handle it, playing around with pretty food coloring and coming up with new ways to combine familiar flavors. She started bringing lollipops to gatherings with friends around New Years 2009. Soon she was totally hooked on making lollipops. All the positive reinforcement from her sugar-loving friends sure didn’t hurt either.“
I am all for doing what you love. I’m also all for things that taste good. So having been tipped off about This Charming Candy before my trip to Seattle, I pestered Susan via email into meeting me and selling me some of her Salted Caramel lollie love. She could not have been more gracious or generous with her time during my visit. And let me tell you, she totally delivered a sophisticated, adult lollipop that made me sing with delight.
The future may look back and dub Salted Caramel the sundried tomato of 2010 but I insist that it is timeless perfection. Imagine salty and sweet happiness on a stick. Despite such intriguing flavors as Birthday Cake, Teaberry, Nutmeg Creme, Maple Sugar, Blueberry Muffin, and a Twilight themed collection of Blood Sucker, Sweetheart, and Lickanthrope, I am steadfastly loyal to the Salted Caramel.
As we move into the gift giving season, I know some people for whom artisan lollipops would make the perfect holiday gift. Maybe you do too? And I imagine Santa wouldn’t mind finding a lollipop instead of cookies at your house as he burns the midnight oil on Christmas Eve. Or maybe you want to treat yourself to a small indulgence. Whatever the reason, This Charming Candy makes it easy for you to rediscover the love of lollipops.
I love the lollies that This Charming Candy produces and I believe in supporting people taking a chance on doing what they love, so I’m giving one Bon Appetit Hon reader the chance to discover This Charming Candy for free. No strings attached. All you have to do is check out This Charming Candy’s blog or Etsy shop for all the fantastic flavors Susan and Kate are offering up and leave me a comment saying which flavor you find most interesting.
Want an extra chance to win? Then head on over to Twitter and/or Facebook and post the following:
Enter to win @charmingcandy handmade lollipops from @bonappetithon http://wp.me/pAING-Sh
Leave me a separate comment saying where you posted for each additional entry (one entry each for Twitter and Facebook for a maximum of two additional entries).
All comments must be received by midnight on Thursday, November 26th and the giveaway is open to residents of the US and Canada only.
The commenter randomly selected as the winner will receive $20 worth of shopping plus shipping in This Charming Candy’s Etsy shop. You will be contacted by email if you are the winner so be sure to include your email address in the comment form (will not be published with your comments).
Now for the disclaimers:
This Charming Candy is a licensed food handler and processor in the state of Washington, and they make their candy in a licensed commercial catering kitchen. This kitchen processes foods to which some customers may be allergic, including milk, eggs, fish, crustacean shellfish, tree nuts, wheat, peanuts and soybeans.
This giveaway is being sponsored by me personally. I have not received anything in consideration for this post. I just wanted to thank you with some lollie love for following my adventures here at BAH.
***Overlooked Disclaimer #1: I usually respond to every comment here at BAH but in order to keep things nice and tidy for the giveaway, I won’t be posting any responses. Feel free to chat with me about your lollie love on Twitter @bonappetithon ****
So the other week when I introduced you to Debra from SmithBites, I didn’t know at the time that she was going to become the very first Food Memory contributor with multiple entries in the project. Here’s how it happened. I badgered her until she agreed to let me use The Professor’s Black Beans and Rice in the hopes that I would move on to harassing someone else. And I did. And then I made an abrupt U turn and headed back to her inbox.
Because when I read her post about Butternut Pear Curry Bisque, it was as though the Universe had taken all the good things about Food Memories and tied them up with a pretty bow. Greedy like I am, I had to have it. Ever gracious, Debra said yes.
I would like to thank her for not changing her email address or running away screaming every time she sees my name in her inbox. I’d also like to thank her for capturing the very essence of why I believe Food Memories are important and sharing a big bowl of it with us.
Butternut Pear Curry Bisque & Food Memories
They say a picture is worth a thousand words but I’m here to tell you that a recipe or a meal is also worth a thousand words. For some, that dish might be a special birthday cake, cinnamon rolls or bread; to others it might be a meatloaf, pot roast or onions and garlic sauteing in a skillet. A particular scene in Ratatouille captures this point so well – the hardened, stoic, food critic Anton Ego, takes a bite of Remy’s simple Ratatouille and the audience is immediately transported back to Ego’s childhood home where the boy Anton is served ratatouille while being comforted by his mother.
And for me, this bisque is one of those dishes. I know it’s officially fall when The Professor breaks out the dutch oven, grabs a butternut squash from our garden and picks an armful of pears from our tree. The first time he made this bisque, I was in Washington staying with my parents – my dad had been diagnosed with cancer a couple of months prior and I was helping them pack for a move. I remember The Professor calling very early in the morning to tell me he had found a delicious recipe for a bisque that had pears and butternut squash in it . . . I also remember thinking that the recipe didn’t sound very appealing. Notice I said I thought – I didn’t say I voiced my opinion – which is shocking I know, but he was cooking for me again, so don’t rock the boat, right? (Plus, he was making his case for vegetarianism.) But I also remember coming home to this fabulous fall bisque – and The Professor has made it every single year since 2000.
In writing this post, we discovered something new about our relationship – he’s all about the tried and true familiar recipes while I’m all about flipping through my mountain of food magazines and/or cookbooks discovering unique and exciting ones. He’s always the one to make Black Beans and Rice, grilled cheese sammies with tomato soup, scrambled eggs, grilled pizza, the Thanksgiving smoked turkey breast and this butternut pear curry bisque; he follows the recipe to. a. tee; always measuring exact amounts, never eyeballing an ingredient – meticulous and precise. I, on the other hand, am racing through the directions, capturing the essence of a recipe and then I’m off doing my own ‘loose’ interpretation; and I have only a handful of recipes I’ve made more than once.
We’re all connected through food in one way or another; and while it would appear that The Professor and I would clash in the kitchen, we actually compliment one another. There are times when I’m in charge and he’s the sous chef; then he’s in charge and I’m the support. That is the dance. That is the magic. And that is how all of us create our own individual memories and stories.
What favorite food takes you back to a particular memory?
BUTTERNUT PEAR CURRY BISQUE Cooking Light Magazine, October 2000
BAH Note: I made a few modifications to the recipe that Debra was kind enough to supply. Since this is Debra’s memory, I’m showing the recipe she used. But lean in and I’ll tell you what I did different. First, I used all of pulp I got from a 3 pound squash. I didn’t measure out exactly how many cups this was but I was happy with the results. Next, you’ll want to remember to roast your squash cut side down. I didn’t and had to double the oven time for my butternut. Also, I changed up the amount of liquids. I used a 12 ounce can of pear nectar, one can of vegetable broth, and 2 cups water. Lastly, I didn’t have another pear to use for garnish so I improvised by crisping up some prosciutto and sprinkled it on the top like confetti.
Cut squash in half lengthwise; discard seeds and membrane. Place squash halves, cut sides down, on a baking sheet; bake at 375° for 45 minutes or until tender. Cool. Peel squash; mash pulp. Set aside 3 1/2 cups pulp, reserving remaining squash for another use.
Melt butter in a large Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add chopped pear and onion; sauté 10 minutes or until lightly browned. Add squash pulp, water, and next 5 ingredients (water through pepper). Bring to a boil; partially cover, reduce heat, and simmer 40 minutes. Place one-third of squash mixture in a blender; process until smooth. Pour puréed mixture into a large bowl; repeat procedure with remaining squash mixture. Return squash mixture to pan; stir in half-and-half. Cook over low heat 3 minutes or until thoroughly heated. Ladle soup into bowls, and garnish with pear slices.
The following originally appeared on 8/4/08 at Exit 51
Topsey Turvey
Topsey Turvey.
Prickly.
Disjointed.
Take your pick. They all seem to apply right now. Maybe it’s because it’s August and it’s hot. Maybe it’s because we’re starting down a new path to hopefully better life choices. Maybe cosmic forces are conspiring against me. Who knows? But things that should be easy, they just aren’t. And the things that are never easy, they are harder than ever.
So I remind myself to add a generous scoop of patience to anything and everything. Truth be told, I would prefer it to be a spoonful of sugar disguised as my lunchtime can of coke.
I like to think that what we call a dish is a pretty reliable indication of what the main components are. For instance, if I say lemonade, you can pretty easily discern that a main ingredient is lemons. If I say eggplant parmesan, you would most likely guess it has at least some eggplant in it. And if I say bbq chicken, you would expect chicken bathed in some type of barbeque sauce.
So would someone kindly tell me what role butter plays in butter chicken? Since the answer seems to be “nearly nothing”, why in the world is it called butter chicken? When I hear butter chicken, I’m thinking the chicken is going to be dressed in some type of rich, buttery sauce. I am most certainly not expecting my chicken to be swimming in a spiced tomato yogurt sauce.
Which is not to say that I didn’t enjoy butter chicken. Or that I wouldn’t make butter chicken again. I just think that when the powers that be were handing out recipe names, someone was distracted when butter chicken’s turn came up. I really shouldn’t fault the recipe that it has a bad name. You shouldn’t either. Forget I even brought the matter up.
Butter Chicken
BAH Note: I was so thrown by the fact that there is so little butter in butter chicken that I failed to pay attention to the fact that the chicken needs to sit in the marinade overnight. So not only was I disappointed by a lack of butter, but I had to wait an extra day to find out whether this was a deal breaker.
2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken breast, cut into 1 inch pieces
4 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 onion, chopped
1 teaspoon ground cardamom
1 cinnamon stick
2 bay leaves
2 teaspoons paprika
14.5 ounces petite diced tomatoes
1/2 cup chicken broth
1 cup heavy cream
Combine the yogurt, lemon juice, tumeric, garam masala, chili, cumin, and ginger in a bowl. Stir to fully combine. Add the chicken and stir well to completely coat the chicken. Cover and refrigerate overnight.
Heat the butter and oil in a nonstick frying pan over medium heat. Add the onion, cardamom, cinnamon, and bay leaf and cook for approximately 5 to 7 minutes or until the onion begins to soften. Reduce the heat to low and add the chicken, marinade, paprika, diced tomato, and chicken broth. Bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer, and cook for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add the cream and simmer for 10 minutes more.
The English language is a funny thing. There are so many words that are nearly interchangeable that sometimes I find myself at a loss as to which one is correct to use. For instance, take the topping on that waffle in the picture. What would you call it?
I have been calling it:
rel·ish noun \ˈre-lish\
something adding a zestful flavor; especially: a condiment (as of pickles or green tomatoes) eaten with other food to add flavor
chut·ney noun \ˈchət-nē\
a thick sauce of Indian origin that contains fruits, vinegar, sugar, and spices and is used as a condiment
jam noun
a food made by boiling fruit and sugar to a thick consistency
While I’m not quite sure what I ended up with, I started out to make a chutney.
Since I can confirm that topping my waffle with it did result in Merriam Webster’s alternate definition of relish – enjoyment of or delight in something that satisfies one’s tastes, inclinations, or desire – I am making the executive decision that what I made was a relish. When you, or Merriam Webster, make it, y’all can call it what you like.
BAH Note: The chutney recipe I used as my guide is meant to be canned. I don’t preserve so I store my relish in the refrigerator. I wasn’t quite expecting this recipe to make the quantity it did. If I had to do it all over again, I would cut the recipe in half. Also, if you are making a full batch, you need to work in a dutch oven, preferably a 6 quart one. I used my 12 inch frying pan and was really pushing my luck. Remember, boiling sugary liquid is HOT.
BAH Tip: If you are using frozen rhubarb, it is much easier to dice before it has thawed.
8 cups apples, peeled, cored, and roughly chopped (from approximately 8 medium size apples)
4 cups granulated sugar
1 bag whole cranberries, fresh or frozen
2 cups diced rhubarb (fresh or frozen)
1/2 cup water
1 teaspoon kosher salt
juice and zest of 1 large lemon
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
Combine rhubarb, cranberries, lemon juice and zest, sugar, water and 4 cups of apples in a dutch oven. Cook over medium high heat, stirring frequently, until it comes to a boil. Lower heat to maintain a gentle boil, stirring frequently for 15 to 20 minutes.
Add the remaining 4 cups of apples, cinnamon, and nutmeg and return to a gentle boil for 15 to 30 minutes or until the mixture has cooked down to a thick consistency and the diced apple pieces are tender.
Carefully transfer the relish into individual glass containers and store in the refrigerator.
The following originally appeared on 7/31/08 at Exit 51.
Remain Calm
On my way into work today, I noticed something odd. That I noticed anything at 8am is remarkable. But I digress. What I saw was about a dozen large ants scurrying about the side of the building.
Now, I don’t mean meandering along the ground. No, I mean zigzagging their way up and down the exterior. Vertically. Which made me wonder, do the ants ever realize that they’ve left the ground? Continue reading “Flashback Friday – Remain Calm”→
Thank you for giving some less than pretty, late in the season peaches a chance to shine.
xoxox,
Me
What happens when what’s left of your last flat of peaches from Trader Joe’s don’t age well? You can either take the loss or get creative. With the help of Abby Dodge, and her recipe for Just Peachy Ice Cream in Desserts 4 Today, I got creative.
Do yourself a favor, ask my friend Googley about Abby Dodge and how you can get your hands on Desserts 4 Today. Because it’s pretty crazy what you can do with just 4 ingredients. Go. Ask. Googley.