Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Best Lick Ice Cream Contest 2008

To my readers: I've entered the Best Lick! Ice Cream Contest 2008 over at The Kitchn. My entry, Basil Infused Ginger and Cinnamon Ice Cream, was one I dreamed up as Mr CC and I were returning home from our recent trip to Portland where he had enjoyed a basil-infused, lemon martini. I couldn't wait to get home and infuse basil into something delicious. Then I saw the ice cream contest...
Basil, cinnamon and ginger all remind me of Thai-Asian cooking. Put those ingredients into a slightly sweet, cream custard, freeze it and then cool your palate with a scoop after enjoying your favorite hot and spicy Thai dish. It's heavenly.
You can find my recipe here. I'd love to know what you think. If you like what you see, cast a vote for me. You can see all the luscious ice cream entries by scrolling down below my entry.
Ice Cream season isn't over by a long shot. I've got more recipes up my sleeve and you'll see them here soon.



Copyright © 2005-2008, Christine Cooks. All rights reserved

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Seared Black Cod With Sautéed Fennel And A Tomato Cucumber Salsa


We were in Portland, Oregon. One block off the Pearl. This is where hip, chic, trendy, spendy and not so spendy bars and restaurants, from brew pubs to haute cuisine and everything in between, abound. And what do we do? We cook in our hotel room.

It's true. Mr CC and I spent four fun-filled days in Portland visiting our youngest, soon-to-be-married-to-a-lovely-young-woman son and had dinner out in the city renowned for its diversity of restaurants, just once.

I can hear all you foodies who know and love Portland (as we do) gasping in disbelief, but it's true.

For breakfast and lunch we found great eating spots (which will be posted soon on my almost defunct due to my negligence but now being resurrected blog, Box Car Odysseys), and we prowled around and found great places to have locally-brewed beers, but . . .

Now all this is not to say that we didn't eat well. We ate very well. One evening we were treated to a wonderful home-cooked meal at the parents of our future daughter-in-law. Another night we enjoyed a barbeque at her sister's house. Yet another time we had a huge lunch so late in the day that we kinda skipped dinner altogether. And on Saturday morning we headed for the farmers market. . .

The Saturday Portland Farmers Market at Portland State University should be on every foodie's list of places not to miss. In a shady grove of shade and grass, the scope of abundant, organic goodness from local cheeses to locally caught, fresh fish, a plethora of sun-kissed fruits and vegetables, even desserts - my little foodie heart was ready to burst with excitement. How could I not cook?

Knowing we had limited cooking resources (check out the room's very cool but dinky kitchen) and not about to go out and buy things that we would either end up wasting or schlepping back home in a cooler, we made exacting choices and cooked minimally. What you see on the plate at the top of this post was superbly delicious, owed to a great extent to the excellence of the farmers market vendors.

Our black cod , a highly nutritious and abundant northern pacific coast fish, also known as Sablefish, came from Stonewall Bank Seafood (they don't seem to have a web site).

The fennel, basil, tomatoes and cucumbers came from Spring Hill Farm's extensive selection of vegetables and herbs.

A little sautéed fennel, some herbed gray sea salt found at Zupan's, a salsa, of sorts, consisting of tomato, cucumber and basil topped with Annie's Organic Balsamic Viniagrette and we were eating very well indeed.


Christine's Seared Black Cod with Fennel and a Cucumber Tomato Basil Salsa
Makes 2 generous servings
Ingredients:
8-ounce filet of black cod, skinned
1 small fennel bulb, cleaned and cut into small dice
2 teaspoons butter
2 very red tomatoes (ours were Early Girls), diced
1 long green cucumber, peeled and diced
5-6 leaves large-leaf, deep green basil, cut chiffonade
2 tablespoons balsamic viniagrette
a pinch or two of herbed gray salt
Preparation:
Dice the tomatoes and cucumbers and prepare the basil chiffonade. Toss them all together in a bowl with the vinaigrette. Set aside at room temperature.
In a skillet over medium high heat, saute the fennel in the butter until golden brown and tender.
Move the fennel to the edges of the pan and add the black cod filet. Cook until just golden on both sides, 2-3 minutes per side.
Remove the fish to a warm plate and sprinkle with the herbed salt.
Spoon the salsa over the fish, cut into two servings and enjoy while it's hot.

Cook's Notes:
> The cooling effect of the tomato cucumber salsa is a great foil to the hot-out-of-the-pan fish and slightly caramelized fennel.
> And for dessert. . .
. . . we nibbled on luscious, lightly salted chocolate chip cookies from Two Tarts bakery whose booth at the farmers market sported quite a long line.

With a view of the bridges over the Willamette River and Mt. Hood from our hotel window, we lacked for nothing more.







Copyright © 2005-2008, Christine Cooks. All rights reserved

Monday, July 28, 2008

Very Chocolaty Chocolate Ice Cream

Okay, so it's not really ice cream. There's no cream here. But it is creamy and smooth and lovely with a double whammy dose of chocolate that will please your palate and make your toes curl. The first whammy is Scharffen Berger cocoa powder, the second is Godiva chocolate liqueur, which puts this firmly in the adult dessert category.

As I was putting the custard together, the deep chocolaty aromas wafting about seemed to cry out for a little balsamic vinegar. Don't ask me why, it just seemed right. I think it makes the chocolate sparkle. Ditto the Tahitian vanilla. Your nose will love you. And I'm still calling it ice cream.

Christine's Very Chocolaty Chocolate Ice Cream
Ingredients:
3 eggs
1/2 cup sugar
3/4 cup
Scharffen Berger unsweetened cocoa powder
2 1/2 cups whole milk
1 teaspoon
Tahitian vanilla
1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar
3 tablespoons
Godiva Liqueur
Preparation:
Using a hand-held or stand mixer, blend together the sugar, cocoa powder and eggs until smooth. It will thicken during this process.
Meanwhile, bring the milk to a simmer over medium high heat.
With the mixer running, very slowly pour the milk into the chocolate mixture until well blended.
Pour it all back into the saucepan and heat gently over low heat until it has thickened and coats the back of a spoon. This doesn't take very long and you must keep stirring and not allow the mixture to boil or over cook as it will curdle.
Remove from the heat and strain into a clean glass container (a 4-cup measure will work just fine).
Let the custard cool slightly then add in the balsamic vinegar, vanilla and chocolate liqueur, stirring well to blend.
Refrigerate overnight or until very cold. Process in your ice cream maker according to its directions.

Cook's Notes:
You can serve this right out of the ice cream maker. Even though it will be soft set, it has a lot of structure.
Of course, if you are going to be serving this to children, omit the chocolate liqueur. The ice cream won't suffer overly much.
Pack any leftovers into a container with a tight fitting lid. Place waxed paper over the ice cream before snapping the lid on to prevent ice crystals from forming.





Copyright © 2005-2008, Christine Cooks. All rights reserved

Sunday, July 27, 2008

Sher

Isn't anyone just a little bit angry?

I woke up this morning with the full intention of joining the rest of Sher's blogger friends to write a tribute.

Instead, I went to a neglected flower bed and started pulling weeds. As I yanked them from the ground I thought of Sher and of what I could write in tribute to her. Instead I continued to pull weeds. Ever more forcefully, throwing them further and further over my shoulder. With a vengeance I dug out a badly placed rose that I never much liked. It's roots were a tangled mess; no wonder it didn't thrive.

A few times a year Sher and I would have marathon talks on the phone. I delighted in her humor, her story-telling ability, her love of the animals who found her so they could be taken care of, her passion for gardening and cooking. Mostly I cherished the friendship that was forming. It didn't matter to her that we hadn't met face to face. We were friends.

Sher and I feigned jealousy of each other: She of me because blackberries grow rampant on my property; me of her because she lived in the city where I grew up and picked ripe, red tomatoes from her garden by mid-June.

She was looking forward to meeting up with Kalyn and I in San Francisco several weekends ago. This was the year when she thought she would finally be able to make it and she was very excited, as were we, at the prospect of us all finally meeting face to face. And, as we all know, she didn't make it. She died of a heart attack on the morning of the very day she was to meet with us.

Doesn't this make you just a little bit angry?

Before I knew it I'd weeded a 20-foot bed and dispatched with two plants, tossing them on the compost pile without a second thought. Breathing hard, my face, hands and the knees of my jeans streaked with red dirt, I looked back at the flower bed and felt a calm come over me. Yes, she died. Way too soon. And yes, there is a hole in what we call the blogosphere that will never, can never, be filled. And yes, after the shock then grief of losing this wonderful person and friend, I realized that I was really angry at the unfairness of it all.

The lily had been in a too-small pot on the front porch for far too long. I've just put it in the ground where I'll walk by it often on my way to the greenhouse to check on my as-yet unripe tomatoes. Lightly scented, ethereal in color, this is a lily I know Sher would have liked. My way, I guess, of both remembering her and saying good-bye.




Copyright © 2005-2008, Christine Cooks. All rights reserved

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Vanilla Bean Gelato With Plum Jam Swirl

Now that I've made gelato for the first time, I'm craving another ice cream maker. The kind that makes creamy dreamy gelato with less air and no icy crystals. I do love the one I have and wouldn't hesitate to recommend it to anyone. But to make gelato . . . Santa baby . . .

I found the basics for my gelato in a lovely new magazine called La Cucina Italiana. One look through the pages of stunning photos and recipes and I was hooked. It's been a love affair ever since.

Whole milk, cream and eggs are called for in the gelato, and while I used the eggs, I couldn't help myself and substituted 2% milk, half the cream and less than half the sugar. The finished product was delicious. The swirls of plum jam delightful. I'm still calling it gelato.


Christine's Vanilla Bean Gelato with Plum Jam Swirl
Adapted from La Cucina Italiana
Ingredients:
5 egg yolks, room temperature
1/3 cup sugar
2 3/4 cup 2% milk
1/2 cup heavy cream
a pinch of fine kosher salt
2 tablespoons Marsala
1 whole vanilla bean, split lengthwise
3/4 cup plum jam
Preparation:
Whisk the eggs and sugar together until thick and pale yellow. I used a hand-held mixer.
In a large saucepan over medium heat, combine the milk, cream, vanilla bean and salt and heat until bubbles form around the edges of the pan. Remove from the heat.
Whisk about 1 cup of the milk mixture into the egg-sugar mixture and then whisk the egg mixture back into the milk, whisking it until well combined. Whisk gently so foam doesn't form.
Turn the stove to low and return the saucepan to the heat, stirring constantly until the mixture thickens slightly and reaches 170F degrees. Adjust the heat so the mixture does not reach a simmer or it may curdle.
Immediately remove the pan from the heat and stir in the Marsala.
Remove the vanilla bean and scrape the seeds into the gelato base.
Strain through a fine mesh seive.
You can cool the gelato base in a bowl of ice and water for about 1 hour to hasten the chilling process, then refrigerate at least 6 hours until completely chilled. Overnight is better.
Process in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer's instructions.
When the gelato has finished processing, remove the freezer bowl to a work surface.
Spoon the plum jam over the gelato and use two knives to cut through in an up and down motion. Don't fold in the jam or it will become too incorporated.
Serve the gelato immediately or freeze in an air tight container for several hours.



Copyright © 2005-2008, Christine Cooks. All rights reserved

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Ridiculously Simple Balsamic-Kissed Plum Jam

My oldest son Josh has a plum tree in his Sacramento back yard and has been making jam for a number of weeks. Being the intrepid sort that he is, at first he plunged in knowing very little about fruit pectin, sugar, etc., and after some trial and error asked if I had a recipe of my own or my mother's. I had neither.

Josh's grandmother, who made all sorts of jams from the fruits of her garden in Davis, never used a recipe. I, sadly, did not inherit her jam jeans genes and until last night had never attempted to make fruit jam - a sad state of affairs to be sure, but ameliorated by those genes having jumped a generation, landing squarely on my son's backside. (Genes - get it?)

In my quest to find a recipe to send to him, the thought of spreading home made plum jam on a piece of toast wiggled its way into my head and stayed there. And even though I never found a recipe that didn't use so much sugar you could just choke, when plums began to make their appearance at the farmers market and our local co-op, I bought some. And then when I saw this incredible photo, I had to make that tart so, naturally, I had to make jam.

The tiny ones above, no bigger than a bing cherry, were picked from ancient plum trees in SoHum. Their yellow flesh is sweetly tart, the skins so delicate they fairly disappear on your tongue. The young woman selling them at the farmers market didn't know what their name was and neither do I. Suggestions welcome.

The larger, deep red Santa Rosas were so sweet and juicy that I was hard-pressed to keep from eating them as I prepared them for jam.

Being the maverick cook that I am, all I did to the plums was wash them, cut the pits out and drop them into a large pot, skins intact. What can I say? I like my food toothsome. Then not a glut, but a reasonable amount of sugar and a serendipitous spoonful of balsamic vinegar which, it turns out was a fabulous idea for which you can thank me if you make this, made up the rest of the ingredients. Told you it was ridiculously simple.


Christine's Ridiculously Simple Balsamic-Kissed Plum Jam
Makes about 2 cups
Ingredients:
9-ounces small mystery plums
1-pound 6-ounces Santa Rosa plums (see Cook's Notes)
1/2 cup sugar, more or less depending on tartness of your plums
1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar


Preparation:
Wash the fruits. Working over a large pot so you don't lose the juices, cut the plums in half and remove the pits, dropping the flesh into the pot.
Add the sugar, starting with the lower amount, and the balsamic vinegar, stir to dissolve the sugar and let the mixture sit for about 5 minutes as juice forms. Taste the juice and add more sugar if you wish, depending on the tartness of your plums. I stayed with the 1/2 cup and it worked perfectly.
Using a heat diffuser over medium-low heat, cook the plums until they reach a simmer and begin to fall apart. At this point I used a potato masher to break up the skins, which worked well.
Keep cooking over low heat, stirring often, until the mixture reduces and thickens up enough so that it holds its shape when spooned onto a cold plate (see Cook's Notes). This took the better part of an hour.
Ladle the jam into clean glass jars or glasses, cover with lids (or plastic wrap and a rubber band) and keep in the fridge. Use within one or two months.

Cook's Notes:
>
The combined weight of the plums was just shy of 2 pounds, so for this recipe I would use that (2 pounds) as your measure. It yielded 4 cups of pitted fruit.
> Leave a small plate in the freezer for about 10 minutes before doing the gel test.
> Because of the low sugar content, I wouldn't recommend storing this jam outside the fridge.
> And Josh kept on making jam until it came out just the way he wanted it. Whatta guy!


Copyright © 2005-2008, Christine Cooks. All rights reserved

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Sautéed Kale With Garlic And Grilled Sweet Onions

Is your garden overflowing with kale like mine is? Although it was quite some time ago that the tiny kale starts were planted, and it seemed like forever would happen before we could start harvesting,

if it weren't for the Cabbage and Sulphur butterfly worms taking their share I wouldn't be able to keep up, it's growing so fast.
I know it's hard to tell, but this is a very, very large bowl of two kinds of kale: green curly , very simply named, and a beautiful dark green, upright variety that has far too many names, among them lacinato, dinosaur, Tuscan, Italian Black Kale and cavolo nero. Kale is easy to grow in both cool and hot climates. Here on the north coast of California it will grow year-round, loving a kiss of frost in the winter. In hotter climes it's better as a fall through spring crop.

So far as I know, kale's only predators are the said beasties shown above. A sprinkling of diatomaceaous earth on the leaves will keep them at bay, at least long enough for you to get your share. Or, you can just plant enough kale so everyone's happy.

Kale is a member of the brassica family which includes cabbage, brussels sprouts, broccoli and more and is a highly nutritious vegetable. Grow it in your garden or buy it at your farmers market or organic produce store. As shown in the recipe below - a little garlic, some grilled sweet onions, a sprinking of balsamic vinegar, a poached egg and voilà. . . a light and lovely summer meal.

So let's start with the onions. To get caramelized sweetness out of a Walla Walla onion, grill it.

Here's a fun way: Cut off the stem and peel back the soft outer layer of the bulb. Cut the onion in half through the root end, leaving roots on each half to hold themselves together. Using a sharp knife, cut the onion halves into wedges, not cutting through the root end.

Rub each onion half with olive oil and grill both sides on medium heat until golden brown, slightly charred at some of the ends, and very soft - looking quite like something other than an onion: A peony, a mop head, a sea anemone, an extra-terrestrial, a muppet, are a few we came up with. Use tongs at the root end to move the onions around the grill. When you're ready to use the onions, simply snip out the root end using kitchen shears. The wedges will plop gently to your cutting board, ready to be cut and warmed in the pan.


Christine's Garden Fresh Sautéed Kale with Garlic and Sweet Onions
Ingredients:
Several large bunches of kale, curly and "lacinato"
4 large cloves fresh garlic, peeled and finely chopped

1 tablespoon good olive oil, divided
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
kosher salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
grilled Walla Walla or other sweet onion prepared as above

Preparation:
Wash the kale in cold water. Tear the leaves into pieces, discarding the larger, tougher stalks at the bottom of each leaf. You can cut these into small pieces and saute them with the garlic and onions if you wish, but I didn't.
Put one half of the olive oil into a large pot and heat it over medium high until it shimmers. Toss in the kale (it will spatter a bit because of the water on the leaves) and sauté, sprinkling with a pinch of two of kosher salt, turning with tongs, until wilted and tender but still bright green.
Meanwhile, using the rest of the olive oil in a skillet, sauté the grilled onion pieces and garlic until the garlic is golden brown and tender.
When the kale is ready, sprinkle with the balsamic vinegar and toss with the onion garlic mixture. Season to taste with salt and pepper.
For a bit of protein, poach or gently fry an egg to put on top. Let the runny yolk dribble down over the kale. Eat it up while it's hot.




Copyright © 2005-2008, Christine Cooks. All rights reserved