Wednesday, March 14, 2018

fresh ginger cookies

Monday it snowed (a teeny-tiny bit but it was snow so yay) so I baked cookies. In light of my sludgy cold, ginger seemed the obvious choice.

I’d first made these cookies back in December, but then I never got around to writing about them. They seemed more of a bracing, nourishing mid-winter cookie than a frivolous Christmas treat anyway, what with the whole wheat base and hefty hit of fresh ginger. Besides, to me a ginger cookie is solid everyday fare, the kind of cookie that kids can grab from the cookie jar whenever they get hungry.

Okay, okay. So I don’t let my kids eat cookies whenever they want and we don’t even have a cookie jar, but! These cookies do feel wholesome and nourishing. I mean, what with all the spices and whole wheat and vitamin-rich molasses, they’re practically good for you, right? At least that’s the story I tell myself. I’m sticking with it.

This time when I made them, the cookies were even better than I remembered. I baked the first tray fresh, not even bothering the refrigerate the dough, and the cookies spread out flat. Crispy around the edges, soft and chewy in the middle, and with that strong ginger bite, they were wildly addicting. Even though my husband was so stuffy that he couldn't detect any flavor (because he, too, has been stricken with The Evil Cold), he so loved the texture that he ate three.

But then I let the rest of the dough sit on the counter for a couple hours while I read by the fire and my husband slept the afternoon away, and by the time I got around to baking the rest of the cookies, the flour had hydrated so that the resulting cookies weren’t quite as thin. Lesson learned: Next time, bake up all the cookie dough straight away, in one go.

Also learned: let the hot butter and spice mixture cool before adding the egg. Otherwise, you’ll be picking out little bits of scramble, oh for crying out loud.

And don’t swing to the other extreme and stick the hot pan in a slick of snow, either, because then the mixture will get painfully thick around the edges.

Basically, just calm down a little. Sometimes “taking it slow” really is faster.

Note: When I mentioned “hydrating the dough” to my mother, she busted up laughing. I tried to explain — the flour hydrates while the dough rests, duh — but my mother wasn’t having it. You mean if I let my cake batter sit out, the cake’s texture will be different? And I’m like, Well, yeah...uh, probably? And then she snorted again so now I don’t know what to think. Am I off my rocker or is she?

Fresh Ginger Cookies
Adapted from Ideas In Food.

I’ve doubled the recipe and am recording it as such. If you’re going to go to all the trouble to measure a bunch of spices, you might as well make it worth your while.

The original recipe calls for just all-purpose flour, but whole wheat adds a pleasant nuttiness.

2 sticks butter
1 cup each brown sugar and white sugar
½ cup molasses
¼ packed cup minced fresh ginger
2 tablespoons cocoa powder
2 tablespoons cinnamon
1 tablespoon, rounded, ground ginger
1 teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon each nutmeg and ground cloves
2 eggs, beaten
2 cups each whole wheat pastry flour and all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
Extra sugar, for rolling

Melt the butter in a saucepan. Add the sugars, molasses, fresh ginger, cocoa, cinnamon, ground ginger, salt, nutmeg, and cloves. Bring to a boil and then simmer gently, stirring frequently, for five minutes. Remove the pan from the heat and let cool for 20-30 minutes.

Working quickly, beat in the eggs. Stir the baking soda into the flour and then add both to the batter. Let the dough sit at room temperature for about thirty minutes to hydrate before shaping into balls, rolling in sugar (I used demerara), and placing the cookies on a parchment paper-lined (or greased) baking sheet.

Bake the cookies at 350 degrees for 9-12 minutes, depending on size and taking care not to overbake them — they should be puffy in the centers and still slightly wobbly. Let them rest on the tray for a few minutes to set up and then transfer to a cooling rack.

This same time, years previous: good writing, the quotidian (3.14.16). opening night, raspberry ricotta cake, chocolate babka, a love affair, sugar loaf, all by himself, for all we know.

Tuesday, March 13, 2018

loaded baked brie

How about this for delicious: A wheel of brie, topped with jam, bacon, and jalapenos, and then wrapped in puff pastry and baked.

Yeah, I KNOW. Awesome, right?

When I came across that recipe-slash-formula, I immediately jogged over to the fridge to add the necessary ingredients to my shopping list, and if you didn’t just dash over to your fridge to jot down the necessary ingredients on your shopping list right then — right now — then we’re no longer friends. Sorry, but that’s just the way of it. Eat brie or be lonely.

I felt a little guilty, making such a decadent treat on a weeknight just for anyhow. I didn’t even try to find a time when all the kids would be home to enjoy it, which was probably just as well since my husband, Mister Don’t-Feed-Me-Milk-Please, ate half of it.

The next day, I gave my older son the piece I’d saved for him. One bite and he yelped, Oh, DAAANG.

And then I got to thinking that a maybe a weeknight in March is the perfect time for such a treat? Thick in dreary, draggy, winter limboland (hello, Evil Cold, I’m looking at you), right about now is when we need a festive boost. Or I do, at least. Listless and edgy, tired of the thick socks and chilly mornings, I sure could benefit from an evening of good conversation around an ooey-gooey wheel of brie. You know, to elevate my existence and all.

Good thing I have another sheet of puff pastry in the freezer.

Now, to track down some friends….

Loaded Baked Brie
Adapted from Ideas in Food

1 16-ounce wheel of brie
1 sheet of puff pastry
1-2 jalapenos, minced
4-6 ounces cooked bacon, crumbled
¼ - ⅓ cup jam (sour cherry, blackberry, spiced currant chutney, etc)

Roll out the puff pastry and line a pie plate with it. Place the wheel of brie — if you don’t like the rind, cut it off (I only bothered to cut off the top rind) — in the middle of the pastry. Spread the jam on top of the cheese, then sprinkle with the bacon and the jalapeno. Fold the pastry over the top, making sure to pinch it closed. Brush the top with an egg wash (or not).

Bake at 400 degrees for 30-45 minutes. If the pastry pokes up in a weird spire, never fear. Simply wrap the point with foil to keep it from burning.

Let the brie rest for 15 minutes at room temperature before slicing. (Leftovers are great, reheated, though the pastry won't be as crispy.)

This same time, years previous: kitchen concert, the quotidian (3.13.17), homemade pepperoni, family weekending, no more Luna, what will I wish I had done differently?, adventuring, the quotidian (3.12.12), now.

Thursday, March 8, 2018

another adventure!

A few years back, my husband and I concocted a dream: to travel around the country volunteering at different disaster sights, living out of a camper. My husband, with his mad carpentry skills, could head up the jobs with other volunteers helping out, and I’d take care of the kids, manage volunteers, cook, whatever. It’d be a hoot, or at least “an adventure.” But although we had the time and interest, energy and skills, as a family of six living on a single income, long-term volunteering without financial support was beyond our means.


But then hurricanes hit Puerto Rico, and after my husband went there in January (his report of the situation: There’s lots to do and Yep, we’d be a good fit), and after consulting with family and a few close friends, we sent a proposal to Mennonite Disaster Service, which we knew usually only relies on short-term volunteers.

May through August, we said. And we speak Spanish.

The worst they could do was say no.

interview ready 

But they said yes!

And then we were like Wheeeee! followed immediately by WE'RE ACTUALLY DOING THIS, YIKES.

The details are hazy, for both us and MDS. For MDS, long-term volunteering usually means two to four weeks, not four months, and often it’s retired folks providing the volunteer leadership, not families with four children needing financial support.

Plus, the situation in Puerto Rico is complicated. Normally after a disaster, it six to twelve months to begin the rebuilding, so at just barely six months, MDS is in the beginning stages. They are moving carefully, wanting to be as sensitive and sustainable as possible, so lots of components are up in the air.

What we do know is this: My husband and I will be leaders, answering to the three in-country coordinators, and managing volunteers and overseeing a building project or two (currently, there are about nine). The two older kids will be mostly full-time volunteers and the younger two will tag along, helping out wherever they can and (hopefully) staying out of trouble. But about our specific tasks and location and living situation, we know nothing. Oddly enough, this doesn’t much bother me. A person can do just about anything for four months, right? It’ll be fine.

Oh, and as for finances, we only have to raise enough money to keep the home fires burning, and, thankfully, our sweet, generous, kind, supportive church has agreed to back us, Thank you, Church! They've even provided a handy-dandy online donation spot (choose the line that says "Mennonite Disaster Services.")

Here's a video of my husband's January trip to Puerto Rico. It'll give you a good sense of what MDS is all about. (Esther makes me tear up every time.)

The kids’ reactions about our MDS plans have been mixed.

Older Son: But I already bought my ticket to Red Wing! And what about work?

He’d planned to spend the summer earning enough money so he’d be free to take a full load of college classes this year...and then we went and nixed the smart decisions we’d coached him to make. Hypocrites, we are.

But then we convinced him that we need his help (we do) and that the cross-cultural experience and Spanish study and family togetherness will be more enriching and valuable in the long run (they will), and now he’s fully on board (yay!). (Because of his school schedule, he’ll probably fly separate from us, arriving a little later and leaving earlier.)

Older Daughter: Awesome! But what about Velvet?

Plus, it was a little hard for her to imagine being gone for four months when she was in the middle of a month-long Florida trip.

But I assured her she’d have two full months at home before we left — plenty of time to recuperate and prepare — and when I called her with the news that the trip was official, she whooped most happily.

Younger Daughter: No, thanks. I'll stay here and live with another family.

Transitions are hard for this one. Remember how she dug in her heels about Guatemala? But I have a hunch she’ll end up loving Puerto Rico. In fact, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she’s the one, out of all of us, who makes the deepest connections. Just, she can’t know that now, so that’s rough.

Younger Son: Yippeeeee!

Pretty straightforward, that kid.

from my husband, to me: a made-in-China mug from the airport gift shop

Even though my husband and I have some concerns — with its long days and no-weekend weeks, not to mention the steady stream of volunteers and the group living situation, MDS volunteering can be quite grueling — the hands-on work will feel good. In the face of increasingly depressing world news, stepping out of our comfort zone to concentrate on other people’s pressing physical need will be grounding. Plus, getting to hang out with all sorts of people — Puerto Ricans! Amish! retired folks! teens! — will be super fun. Exhausting, yes, for sure, but also energizing.

We are so excited.

Wednesday, March 7, 2018

one-pan roast sausages with vegetables

I recently discovered the easiest fancy dinner ever: roasted veggies with sausage. I’ve already made it, oh, three or four times, and within as many weeks.

Mid-afternoon, I dig through the fridge, pulling out whatever veggies are rolling around in there: broccoli, carrots, a red onion. I fetch potatoes, both sweet and white, from the back hall. In the kitchen, I peel and rough chop everything, drizzle them with plenty of olive oil and then tumble them onto a sided baking sheet and sprinkle with lots of salt and black pepper. Usually, I get carried away and have to use two, sometimes three, baking sheets. The important thing is to not overcrowd the pan.

I nestle a half dozen sausages in amongst the veggies and roast the whole thing in a blistering hot oven for about thirty minutes. The last ten minutes, I halve a lemon and place the pieces, cut-side down, on the baking sheet, and then, right before serving, I squeeze the hot lemon juice over everything and season with more salt and pepper.

The meal is a slam dunk every time. What with all the variety and bright colors and flavors, it feels celebratory. Add a loaf of fresh bread and it’s a downright feast.

One-Pan Roast Sausage with Vegetables
Adapted from Aimee of Simple Bites.

Other vegetable options include brussel sprouts, butternut squash, cauliflower, beets (though they'd probably discolor the other food), cabbage, etc. More variations: Add fresh herbs, such as rosemary or thyme, or toss in some garlic and red pepper. Maybe try roasting some fruit, too  fresh figs and apples, would probably be nice. The key is to cut the veggies the same size so they roast at the same speed.

We've tried different sausages but Sweet Italian is our favorite.

If roasting the veggies in shifts, simply pile all the roasted vegetables and sausages together both the ones that have cooled to room temperature and the fresh hot ones  and return to the oven for ten minutes to heat through before serving.

1 head fresh broccoli, cut into florets
4 carrots, peeled and sliced into sticks
1 red onion, halved and then cut into large chunks
1 sweet potato, peeled and cut into large chunks
several potatoes, cut into large chunks
4-6 sausages links
1 lemon
olive oil
salt and black pepper

Toss the veggies with plenty of olive oil and salt and pepper. Tumble into a sided baking sheet. Nestle the sausage links amongst the vegetables. Roast at 400 degrees for 20-30 minutes, stirring every ten. The last ten minutes of baking, cut the lemon in half and put cut-side down on the baking tray -- the heat helps the lemon release all of its juice.

The meal is ready when the sausages are golden brown and swollen fat and the veggies are fork-tender and blackened around the edges. Remove from the oven, squeeze the hot lemon over everything, and season with more salt and pepper. Serve immediately.

This same time, years previous: classic German gingerbread, tradition, wintry days, to market, to market, oatcakes, bacon and dates scones with Parmesan, soda crackers, an OCD indulgence.

Monday, March 5, 2018

the quotidian (3.5.18)

Quotidian: daily, usual or customary; 
everyday; ordinary; commonplace





She's back!



This same time, years previous: we nailed it, dusty magic, creamy Costco-esque cake filling, the quotidian (3.2.15), girl party, the Chicoj coffee cooperative, grocery shopping, the quotidian (3.5.12), potatoes and onions, doctors galore, sky-high biscuits.

Monday, February 26, 2018

the quotidian (2.26.18)

Quotidian: daily, usual or customary; 
everyday; ordinary; commonplace

Dough globe.

For our local homeless shelter.

To keep me from ruining any more pork, he turned the last three loins into 17 pounds of sausage.

I chalked this up under the category of The Things I Find...

We gave him a magnifying glass for his birthday and now the deck is scorched.

Though he's not quite sure how: fixed.

Brushing up on his Spanish: Wonder, two ways. 
The movie  we watched it last night  was so good. I even teared up several times. 
 Bonus: it had connections to both Napoleon Dynamite AND The Princess Bride.


This same time, years previous: steer sitting, homecoming, roasted cauliflower soup, the quotidian (2.25.13), bandwagons, the quotidian (2.27.12), buttery brown sugar syrup and cinnamon molasses syrup, Molly's marmelade cake.

Saturday, February 24, 2018

homemade pasta

Sunday, I borrowed a pasta maker from a friend and all week long I’ve been researching recipes and watching youtube videos of Italian grandmas making pasta. I have yet to deviate from the basic recipe I’ve been using — everyone loves it, so why mess with it? — so mostly, I’ve been focusing on developing a feel for the process.

Pasta, it turns out, is wonderfully simple to make, and the flavor is leagues better than the store-bought stuff. I had no idea! It's lighter, and the texture is magical: For the first time, I understand the term al dente after only two minutes in boiling water, the pasta is cooked through, firm and toothsome, without a hint of gumminess.

Mostly, I’ve been making fettuccine, but I also sometimes hand-cut the dough into wider pieces for pappardelle. I never knew what pappardelle was until a couple weeks ago when I came across a recipe that called for it. I searched grocery stores high and low, but no luck. Then I found it online, for about seven freaking dollars a pound! So now I’m happily — gleefully — making highend pasta by hand in my own kitchen, for just pennies, toot-toot! (That's the sound of me honking my horn.)

One night I made lasagna:

Instead of boiling the fresh noodles, I simply layered them with ricotta, both fresh and grated mozzarella, parmesan, and lots of sauce. I baked the lasagna, covered with foil, for the first 45 minutes or so, before removing the foil and baking for another 20-30 minutes. ‘Twas delish!

I’m still figuring out how to store the fresh pasta. So far, I’ve been shaping it into nests and then freezing them in plastic bags, using wax paper to keep the portions from sticking together.

The other day for lunch, I cooked a nest of pappardelle, plopping the frozen noodles directly into the boiling water. They took a couple extra minutes to cook, but tasted as good as when they were fresh. I drizzled the noodles with melted butter, added Parmesan and sliced ham, and gave them several good grinds of black pepper.

I’m eager to try some variations — different grains, adding spinach to the dough, messing around with the spaghetti setting, etc. Up next: ravioli. The ricotta and fresh parsley are a-waiting!

Have you ever made pasta? If so, fill me in on your favorite recipes, fresh pasta dishes, and pasta makers ... because I will be buying one shortly.

Homemade Pasta
I looked at a bunch of recipes, like this and this. For a look at the science behind pasta making, check out this post by Serious Eats.

This grandma is fun to watch. (Here she is again.)

Note: I gave my mom a sample of the cold, cooked noodles and she thought they tasted eggy. I, however, do not detect any eggyness. My cousin, who makes her own pasta, is sensitive to eggy flavors and just uses one egg, plus water, for her pasta. Do whatever you like!

1 cup semolina
1 cup all-purpose flour
3 eggs
Drizzle of olive oil, optional

Dump the semolina and flour on the table, and make a well in the center. Crack in the eggs. Add the olive oil, if using.

Gently beat the eggs with a fork, gradually incorporating more and more of the flour. Switch to a bench knife and, with a chopping motion, continue to mix. When it’s all a shaggy mess, use your hands to pull it together and knead it into a glossy ball. Wrap with plastic and set aside to rest at room temperature for about 30 minutes.

Cut the dough into two parts. Rewrap one of the parts in the pastic so it doesn't dry out and begin rolling the other. (If you don’t have a pasta maker, whack off a broom handle and do it like this.) Roll the dough through the machine at level one about 10-15 times, lightly dusting the table and dough with semolina and each time folding the dough in half or thirds. Then, at each level up to five or six (which is all the higher I’ve gone so far), roll the dough through once or twice.

When the dough is the desired thickness, cut the pasta sheets into appropriate lengths (generally 8-12 inches) and then cut the lengths into fettuccine, lasagna, spaghetti, pappardelle, etc, dusting the final noodles with semolina or flour to keep them from sticking together.

To cook: Boil water with plenty of salt. Add the pasta and cook for 1-3 minutes. Drain, add toppings, and serve. Refrigerate any leftover cold, cooked pasta and reheat later. It'll be just fine.

To freeze: Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or wax paper and mound the uncooked, fresh pasta into little nests and let air dry for 1-2 hours. Cut the paper and slip the nests, with their paper bottoms to keep the nests from sticking together, into a plastic bag. Freeze, taking care not to bump the bag as the frozen pasta is prone to breaking.

To cook frozen pasta: Dump frozen nest into salted, boiling water. As it cooks, use a fork to gently separate the pasta. Boil for an extra minute or two.

This same time, years previous: jelly toast, a love story, doppelganger, old-fashioned molasses cream sandwich cookies, lemon cheesecake morning buns, peanut butter and jelly bars, the quotidian (2.24.14), pan-fried tilapia, birds and bugs, ginger lemon tea, chicken pot pie.

Monday, February 19, 2018

the quotidian (2.19.18)

Quotidian: daily, usual or customary; 
everyday; ordinary; commonplace

And then my husband said, "Do not ever buy pasta from the store again."


Mid-week satisfaction: fresh bread and roasted veggies and sausages.

The balance of marriage: On Feb 14, my husband bought me candy; I made him a pot of steelcut oats.

Oh, shhhh....ugar.

Recuperating from surgery and stitches after somehow tearing up the inside of her leg.
(The cone of shame freaks her out, so we've compromised with the shirt.)

On his morning to-do list: Put away the toilet paper.
So he made himself a pair of chaps.  

And then I found this on my camera.

To better visit with our daughter...

...who is sending us lots of photos of beaches and horses.

For about two minutes, we had snow.

Dogs, a still life.


This same time, years previous: Thursday thoughts, Jonathan's jerky, in the last ten months, almond cake, chocolate pudding, in the eyes of the beholder, Shakespeare in church, just stuff, coconut pudding, odd ends, creamed chicken with cheese biscuits.