Thursday, April 22, 2010

Pita, Pita, pumpkin eatah


When one lives in New York City she tends to lose sight of reality and begins to take all kinds of things 'city life' for granted. Take for instance that no further than a stone's throw from my former apartment I could find any sort of ethnic food a person could hope for. Multiple restaurants for each ethnicity, at that! I recall being awed the first year I lived in Brooklyn and I hastily took advantage of expanding the horizon of my taste buds. Thai from the little place around the corner tonight, a saunter down the block to the burrito place tomorrow, and who knows what's in store for the weekend?! Indian? Spanish? Italian?!

The problem lies in returning to small town America. No longer am I able to wander out my front door and walk aimlessly down the street until I spy the cuisine that strikes my fancy. Sure, there are a few ethnic destinations to be had here, but they are few and far between and not a stone's throw from my door.


My dad and I both have a weakness for ethnic food so a few nights ago as I pondered what would be interesting to eat it didn't take much persuasion before I took matters into my own hands. I had spied a recipe for an Israeli dish in which eggs are gently poached in a slightly spicy tomato sauce and thought this the perfect answer to my dilemna. However I wasn't as thrilled with the dish as I had hoped, thus it will not be appearing here any time soon. However, I did have great success making my first ever batch of pita bread, which is what I'm here to talk about today.


After reading several stories of failed 'pita puffing', I was a little wary of what I was getting myself into. Not that flatbread would be bad with said Israeli dish, it would just be a shame if there were no pocket into which I could poke my tomato and eggs if I so wished.

I prowled the internet for successful sounding recipes and decided on one posted to Epicurious that was flecked with whole wheat and supported with many cook's comments of success. The only trick to this recipe is that it requires a bit of forethought so that you have plenty of time for making a sponge, mixing, and proofing the dough. The great idea for this meal didn't hit me until late afternoon, so we ended up enjoying our pita by starlight, but really where's the fault in that? In fact, I can attest that pita bread can be enjoyed any time of day, particularly at breakfast toasted, split, and filled with peanut butter and banana. Throw in a cup of Earl Grey tea and you've got the breakfast of champions!


This recipe makes 8 good sized pitas, so unless you are feeding a crowd plan on freezing some of them for a later date. They will quickly begin to sport some unbecoming white fuzz and perhaps a green spot or two if left on the counter for more than a couple of days.


Whole Wheat Pita Bread
Gourmet May 2003
Yield: Makes 8 (6-inch) pita loaves


1 (1/4-ounce) package active dry yeast (2 1/2 teaspoons)
1 teaspoon honey
1 1/4 cups warm water (105–115°F)
2 cups bread flour or high-gluten flour, plus additional for kneading
1 cup whole-wheat flour
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon salt


 
Cornmeal for sprinkling baking sheets*

Stir together yeast, honey, and 1/2 cup warm water in a large bowl, then let stand until foamy, about 5 minutes. (If mixture doesn't foam, discard and start over with new yeast.)

While yeast mixture stands, stir together flours in another bowl. Whisk 1/2 cup flour mixture into yeast mixture until smooth, then cover with plastic wrap and let stand in a draft-free place at warm room temperature until doubled in bulk and bubbly, about 45 minutes. Stir in oil, salt, remaining 3/4 cup warm water, and remaining 2 1/2 cups flour mixture until a dough forms.

Turn out dough onto a floured surface and knead, working in just enough additional flour to keep dough from sticking, until dough is smooth and elastic, 8 to 10 minutes**. Form dough into a ball and put in an oiled large bowl, turning to coat. Cover bowl with plastic wrap and let dough rise in draft-free place at warm room temperature until doubled in bulk, about 1 hour.

Punch down dough and cut into 8 pieces. Form each piece into a ball. Flatten 1 ball, then roll out into a 6 1/2- to 7-inch round on floured surface with a floured rolling pin. Transfer round to 1 of 2 baking sheets lightly sprinkled with cornmeal. Make 7 more rounds in same manner, arranging them on baking sheets. Loosely cover pitas with 2 clean kitchen towels (not terry cloth) and let stand at room temperature 30 minutes.

Set oven rack in lower third of oven and remove other racks. Preheat oven to 500°F.

Transfer 4 pitas, 1 at a time, directly onto oven rack***. Bake until just puffed and pale golden, about 2 minutes. Turn over with tongs and bake 1 minute more. Cool pitas on a cooling rack 2 minutes, then stack and wrap loosely in a kitchen towel to keep pitas warm. Bake remaining 4 pitas in same manner. Serve warm.

Pitas can be baked 1 week ahead and cooled completely, then frozen, wrapped well in foil in a sealed plastic bag. Thaw before reheating, wrapped in foil, 10 to 12 minutes in a 350°F oven.

* I used the cornmeal as prescribed, but found by the time I was baking the last of my pitas the stray cornmeal on my  baking sheet had charred, leaving the pita embedded with little black specks. Next time I think I will try dusting the sheet trays on which the pita rest with flour instead.

**I kneaded my dough in the Kitchenaid instead of by hand. I found it necessary to add a few handfuls of flour after mixing for a minute or two to gain the right consistancy. You want the dough to be soft and moist, but it should also be pulled away from the bowl, reaching out from the dough hook to smack the bowl on occasion.

***I placed a stoneware baking sheet on the rack and preheated it with the oven. I borrowed this tip from Deb and found it worked well. Much better I imagine than placing a piece of floppy dough straight on the rack. If you don't have a pizza stone or other stoneware baker, I imagine a metal sheet tray would work just fine.

Monday, April 19, 2010

All roads lead to cake


So, the bad news is that the content of this post is completely un-original. The good news is that I got to try out a recipe that has been lurking in the back of my mind for months, and the better news is that it was delicious!

I feel as though this recipe has been following me around for the better part of two years, but somehow I hadn't managed to find the time to give it a whirl. Now that I have tasted it, I am irked that I have been missing out for so long and spent the last two years of my life not eating this cake.


My first inspiration for this post was a glance at The Smitten Kitchen and, as always, there were at least 3 new recipes since I last checked the site (which was only a couple of days ago)! One of which included a drool-inducing picture of a lime yogurt cake with blackberry sauce. The question of how Deb has time to cook as often as she does with a little baby kicking around the house is only secondary to, who is it that eats all the food she blogs about?! Anyway, back to the point.

The second inspiration occured last night as I unearthed Molly's spectacular book, A Homemade Life, and began to re-read it for perhaps the third time. It was part way through, as she begins to tell the story of how she met her husband, that I was once again greeted with a recipe for yogurt cake. I remember my interest in a cake made with yogurt being piqued when I read her book the first (and the second) time. But last night the inevitability was obvious. It was time to whip out the yogurt and give this cake a chance!


I decided to go with Molly's lemon scented cake due to the fact that I had a bag of Meyer lemons in the fridge that were slowly shriveling on account that they never made it into the lemon tart for which they were meant. I also realized that I only had lowfat yogurt, which she admonished I not use in place of full fat yogurt. What to do? Then it dawned on me that I had a jar of creme fraiche sitting pitifully unused in the fridge and I felt fairly confident that half lowfat yogurt and half creme fraiche adds up to full fat yogurt. (I was never very good at math, but this equation makes perfect sense to me.)



The clincher that this might just be my new favorite 'everyday cake' recipe is the fact that you can make it in two bowls, with a spoon. No mixer. No beaters. No waiting for butter and sugar to cream. No stopping and scraping between ingredients. It's fairly similar to pancake batter in that you just mix dry and wet together, and voila! you have a beautiful sunshine colored batter ready to pour in your pan, and (even better) later to put in your mouth!


So, though this post is not in the least original and I can't take any credit for it whatsoever, that is no reason for you not to make this cake. Please, I beg of you, don't make the same mistake I did. Do not wait two years to make this cake. Don't make it stalk you and pop up in unexpected places before you give it a place in your repertoire.


French-Style Yogurt Cake with Lemon
Taken from A Homemade Life by Molly Wizenberg

Cake:
1 1/2 c. all purpose flour
2 tsp. baking powder
Pinch of salt
2 tsp. grated lemon zest
1/2 c. well-stirred plain whole-milk yogurt (not lowfat or nonfat)
1 c. sugar
3 large eggs
1/2 c. vegetable oil

Syrup:
1/4 c. powdered sugar, sifted
1/4 c. lemon juice

Icing:
1 c. powdered sugar, sifted
3 Tbsp. lemon juice

Preheat the oven to 350 F. Grease a 9-inch round cake pan with butter or cooking spray. Line the bottom with a round of parchment paper, and grease it too.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt. Add the lemon zest and whisk to mix thoroughly.

In a large bowl, combine the yogurt, sugar, and eggs, stirring to mix well. Add the flour mixture and stir to just combine. Add the oil and stir well. At first it will look like a horrible, oily mess, but keep going, and it will come together into a smooth, pale yellow batter. Pour into prepared pan.

Bake for 25-35 minutes, until a toothpick or cake tester inserted into the center comes out clean. Do not overbake.

Cool the cake in the pan on a wire rack for 15 minutes. Run a thin knife around the edge of the pan, and invert the cake onto a wide, flat plate or pan. Remove and discard the parchement paper. Invert the cake back onto the rack so that it sits upright, with the shinier, slightly domed side facing up. Set the rack over a rimmed baking sheet.

In a small bowl, whisk together the syrup ingredients. Spoon the syrup slowly atop the warm cake. Some of the syrup will run down the sides and onto the baking sheet; don't worry. Cool completely.

In a small bowl, combine the icing ingredients. Whisk well to dissolve the sugar completely. Spoon the icing over the cooled cake.

Serve immediately - the icing will still be soft and a bit juicy - or wait until the icing has firmed up, about 1 hour.

Yield: 8 servings

* My notes and alterations to the recipe:

I used Meyer lemons in place of standard lemons, only because I had them on hand. They gave the cake a pleasant perfume that you may not get otherwise.

I substituted half creme fraiche and half lowfat yogurt for full fat and it worked well. Not sure what would happen if you subbed all lowfat yogurt.


I like to use a Microplane for the citrus zest; I think it produces the finest zest.

I brushed rather than spooned the syrup on my cake as I felt it gave more even coverage.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Simplicity


When my parents met and began dating one of the things they liked to do was go for a malt. My dad was (and still is) a vanilla malt kind of guy. My mom, on the other hand, couldn't fathom a reason to get any flavor other than chocolate. "Vanilla is so boring", I imagine her to say. I'm sure there were several chocolate malts in the beginning of their relationship, but as time went by she began to warm to the idea of vanilla, and by the time I knew her she had almost fully switched camps. Don't get me wrong, she never lost appreciation for chocolate and the rich intensity it's flavor brings to your soul but she had developed a passion for simplicity.



To say that vanilla is simple, in all truth, is false. The process by which vanilla is procured is incredible, and if you happen to come across a good, moist, pliable bean (which is unfortunately rare outside of a professional kitchen) and take the time to inhale it's delicate perfume you will be amazed at how exotic and lush it is. I would propose in fact that vanilla is just as intense and complex a flavor as chocolate, only it is at the opposite end of the spectrum. Whereas chocolate is rich and dark and mysterious, vanilla is clean and bright and pure.

Those characteristics of vanilla are the things I believe won my mom over. She was a lover of all things clean, bright, and pure. She loved sunshine, and white walls; the cool tan of the beach and steel blue of the ocean in the Pacific Northwest. She loved the cheery heads tulips and daffodils pop up each spring to signal that winter is almost over and brighter days lay ahead. She was a soul nourished by serenity, beauty, and simplicity.

Since she died I find myself searching for something to make me feel better, something to fill that space she left behind. Most often this takes the form of eating or cooking (and then eating!) and though there is nothing that makes me feel any better or can begin to fill the empty space, I am finding the things I make are things I know she would enjoy. Such can be said of this pudding. It is cool, creamy, clean, and bright. Just the way she would have liked it.


Pudding, to me, seems to be one of the ultimate comfort foods, keeping company with things like pot pie, mac and cheese, and mashed potatoes. So it is not surprising in the least that making pudding seemed like a good idea. I do have one quibble with making things like puddings and custards at home though, and that is most recipes call for a hearty helping of egg yolks, leaving me with containers of the rejected whites, just sitting in the freezer for months because I don't know what to do with them. Imagine my relief, then, when I came across this recipe for an eggless pudding. Adapted from a recipe posted in the NY Times by Mark Bittman, the king of simplicity; I could hardly pass it up.


It's quick, only requires a few ingredients, and makes a wholly satisfying treat. I made the recipe according to MB but next time will lessen the sugar a tad, as I felt with his prescribed amount it was on the verge of cloying.

Vanilla Pudding
2 1/2 c. whole milk
2/3 c. sugar (I would reduce by a Tablespoon or two)
pinch kosher salt
1 vanilla bean, split and scraped
3 Tbsp. cornstarch
2 Tbsp. unsalted butter
In a medium saucepan mix 2 c. milk, sugar, salt, and vanilla bean seeds and pod. Bring just to a boil over medium heat. While that mixture heats, combine remaining 1/2 c. milk and cornstarch in a small bowl. Whisk to blend, making sure there are no lumps. When the milk mixture is hot, remove the vanilla pod and discard ( or rinse thoroughly, allow to air dry, and then store it in a jar of sugar, which it will perfume, and use in coffee, baking, etc.)
Into the hot mixture, whisk in the cornstarch mixture and cook over medium heat, whisking constantly, until the pudding thickens and begins to boil. Take off the heat, whisk in the butter, and immediately pour into ramekins or cups. Cover with plastic wrap unless you prefer your pudding to have skin. Chill at least an hour.
Yields 4- 5 dessert portions