My husband and I recently spent a weekend with friends at their new log cabin -- a cabin meant for hunters. It was like no other cabin I have ever been to... I loved it. We wanted to take a cabin house-warming gift. My husband had been to the cabin this past fall to hunt deer, and had been talking for weeks about buying our friends a stuffed squirrel (ebay is full of them). I just couldn't get on-board with his idea -- not at all in fact. But after visiting I am now sorry I was so against the little taxidermied sciuridae. It would have been perfect, I think. I did however want to incorporate squirrels into the weekend -- somehow. The double crust apple pie I made and took along for our dessert that night at the cabin, had two very small squirrels cut from leftover pastry on top. Little did I know I should have also been looking for a mountain lion cookie cutter. I'll work on that for our next visit, which I'm hoping won't be too far off (hint, hint). NOTE: I made a slight adjustment to this recipe. I could not get the butter-cornstarch-whiskey mixture to thicken, so when done, I removed the apples to a bowl, so not to over-cook, and added additional cornstarch to total 1 teaspoon (1/2 teaspoon was called for in the recipe). I then cooked the mixture until it was the thick, perfect constancy it should be. • Classic Pie Dough (recipe follows) • 1 teaspoon cornstarch (see NOTE above) • 1 cup firmly-packed brown sugar • 7 medium Granny Smith apples • 3 tablespoons unsalted butter • 2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract • 1 teaspoon whiskey • 1 teaspoon cinnamon • 1 large egg, beaten • 1 tablespoon raw sugar 1. Dust work surface lightly with flour. Unwrap one of the balls of chilled dough and place on the work surface. Roll into a 12-inch round. Transfer dough to a pie plate and carefully work it into the dish, folding any overhang under and crimping the edge as you go. Wrap and freeze the crust until firm, about 2 hours, and up to 3 months. 2. Preheat the oven to 375˚F. In a small bowl, whisk together the cornstarch and the brown sugar, Peel and core the Granny Smith apples; cut them into 1/8-inch wedges. 3. Heat the butter over medium heat in a large heavy-bottomed saucepan. Swirl the saucepan occasionally until the butter begins to brown. As soon as the butter is evenly browned, add half of the apple wedges and cook over low heat for 10 minutes, or until apples are softened. 4. Add the remaining apples and the cornstarch-sugar mixture. Mix until the sugar has melted, then add the vanilla, whiskey, and cinnamon to the saucepan and cook for 5 minutes. See the NOTE above -- I found it necessary to remove the apples and continue cooking the sauce on its own until thickened.. Remove from heat, stir in the reserved apples and let cool slightly. 5. Prepare the work surface with a dusting of flour. Roll the remaining ball of chilled pie dough into a 12-inch round. 6. Pour the apple filling into the frozen pie crust, and top with the second dough round. Trim the dough, leaving a 1/2-inch overhang. Crimp the edges together, brush with the beaten egg, and sprinkle with the raw sugar. Cut 3 steam vents into the top crust. With left-over dough, cut out shapes to place on the top crust (brushed with beaten egg to adhere), if desired. 7. Bake the pie until the crust is golden brown, about 1 hour. Cool the pie on a rack for 1 hour. Serve warm or at room temperature with vanilla bean ice cream Classic Pie Dough • 3 cups unbleached all-purpose flour • 1 tablespoon sugar • 1 teaspoon salt • 1 cup (2 sticks) cold unsalted butter • 3/4 cup ice cold water 1. In the bowl of a food processor, pulse the flour, sugar, and salt together. 2. Cut the cold butter into cubes and add to the flour mixture. Pulse in short bursts until the pieces of butter are the size of hazelnuts. 3. While pulsing in quick, 4-second bursts, drizzle the ice water into the food processor through the feed tube. 4. As soon as the dough comes together in a ball, remove from the food processor and divide it into two equal balls. Flatten each into a disk and wrap each in plastic. Refrigerate for about an hour. • adapted from a recipe in BAKED by Matt Lewis and Renato Poliafito TAKE a LOOK:
3 Comments
If I were to describe this winter, I would use only one word -- easy. On the rare occasion we have actually seen a snowfall in Minneapolis-St. Paul, I don't believe it has ever amounted to more than 3-inches; less than 15-inches this entire season. Cold temps? -- Our heating bill is the lowest it's been in recent memory. So, my husband and I headed up north for a couple of days -- 2 hours south of the Canadian border, expecting to find winter. There was a little more snow, but it wasn't much colder. O.k., I'll use one more word to describe this winter -- weird. The weather has just been so unMinnesota-like. We experienced mostly gray skies; the result of unusual winter warmth causing snow-melt and moisture in the air. On a photography hike through the woods, I was searching for any color I could find. Any contrast to the grayness. Moss provided some of the most beautiful and vibrant color in the woods. The birch trees and their peeling, butter colored, paper-like bark. The blue-green hue of the lichen. I'm not certain if the blackened bark on this birch tree is the result of disease. The contrast of black against the snow and alongside the reddish-brown of the pine needles was beautifully bold in the otherwise neutral surroundings. And this is why areas of northern Minnesota are called The Iron Range -- bands of red iron ore layered in the soil. Steep hills were often colored in pink ribbon-like streaks where the iron combined with melting snow. And how could I not photograph a body protruding from a hay bale? ;-) TAKE a LOOK: Paris, and all that I experienced in that amazing city, is still heavy on my mind. It is able to inspire me like nothing else... and, with Paris as my focus, I just hosted a dinner for six which included our friends next door. I was joined on this last trip to Paris by my neighbor Debbie, and this dinner resulted in a French collaboration between the two of us. Never one to return from Paris empty-handed, I did some shopping while in France; how could I not? I brought back the Francoise Paviot paper napkins in the photo below, knowing they would be perfect for a dinner such as this. I also had an apron on my shopping list, but when I saw a "Blouse Laborant" (a stylish lab coat hanging next to the doctors' scrubs, of course) at MONOPRIX, a French store that I refer to as France's TARGET, I thought -- This is it! (Sorry, no photos of me in the lab coat...). But the best things I always bring back from a trip to Paris and France are the experiences I had, and the photos (this time numbering 1000). The best memories from this trip -- the food! I hope you enjoy the party... • Piscine Bocca • French Cheese Platter • Roquefort Soufflé • Risotto with Sea Bass and Orange Oil • Hazelnut and Mandarin Salad • Cream of Cauliflower Soup with Parsley Oil, Almonds, and Carrot-Ginger Sorbet • Almond Cream Apple Tart Of the six courses that were served at my dinner, only two of them were not directly influenced by meals I had eaten in Paris -- the Hazelnut and Mandarin Salad and the Almond Cream Apple Tart. With music by Jazz de Paris playing in the background (CD purchased while they were performing at the Sunday morning Rue Moufftard street market), we began the evening with a French Cheese Platter, consisting of a Comté and a triple crème that Debbie purchased at Fromagerie Barthélémy, 51 rue de Grenelle on the Left Bank. We served the cheese with Piscine Bocca, a Prosecco and strawberry drink we had (several times) at La Bocca Della Verita on rue du Sabot. (I made ours with Monin Strawberry Sirop added to the Prosecco, altho' the drinks in Paris were likely made with sweetened, puréed strawberries). Debbie took a cooking class with Olivier Berte in his home kitchen (which Debbie would highly recommend to anyone wanting to take a cooking class while in Paris), and for our dinner's second course, made the Roquefort Soufflé that they made together there. It was perfect -- a light, moist and creamy interior with a nicely browned top. < Debbie with her beautiful Roquefort Soufflé. (photo taken on my husband's phone) Following the soufflé, I prepared a risotto similar to the one I had eaten at l'Epi Dupin. I did not photograph the risotto with orange oil and red snapper my last night in Paris (didn't have my camera), nor did I photograph the risotto with orange oil and sea bass that I made for my French dinner (imperfect conditions: too dark and too busy). The sea bass was fresher and considered the best buy of the day at Coastal Seafood, so it became a substitute for the snapper. The risotto at l'Epi Dupin was the creamiest I have ever eaten, and I actually used heavy cream in the preparation of mine. The risotto was followed by a green salad with hazelnuts and mandarins from the Zuni Café Cookbook; refreshing after the rich risotto dish. The Pièce de Résistance for me was the Chilled Cauliflower Soup with Parsley Oil, Almonds, and Carrot-Ginger Sorbet. I had this as my first course at l'Epi Dupin. Perfect, first of all, for the warm September, 80+ degree day -- it was a chilled soup! But it was the combination of tastes and textures that made this so appealing and so GOOD! You can't even imagine... There are several steps involved in creating all the parts to this soup, but you can start several days ahead, as I did, so when you finally are ready to serve it, it goes together in a flash. I made the soup (without the addition of the cream and the egg yolks) a week prior to the dinner and froze it. Three days before my dinner, I transferred it from freezer to refrigerator. The morning of the dinner I heated the soup, added the cream and egg yolks as the recipe called for, then chilled the soup until it was served that night. The parsley oil was made 3 weeks in advance and kept in a jar and refrigerated (Just be sure to pull it from the refrigerator at least an hour ahead of when you'll need it so the oil can come to room temperature). The Carrot-Ginger Sorbet was made 4 days before the dinner and stored in a container in my freezer. Toast some slivered almonds in a pan on top of your stove the day before you plan to serve the soup. Keep them in a small, air-tight container. PARSLEY OIL | adapted from a recipe by Patrick Ponsaty • 1/2 cup olive oil • 1 cup fresh parsley, chopped 1. Heat the olive oil in a skillet. Add the parsley and lightly fry for about a minute, infusing the oil with the parsley. Let rest until cooled somewhat and purée in a blender. Strain the parsley oil into a glass jar. Cover and refrigerate for up to 3 weeks. Bring back to room temperature before using. CREAM of CAULIFLOWER SOUP | adapted from The Fundamental of Classic Cuisine by The French Culinary Institute with Judith Choate • 2 heads cauliflower • 6 tablespoons unsalted butter • 2 leeks, white part only, finely sliced and well-washed (about 5 ounces) • 3 ounces unbleached, all-purpose flour • 2 quarts plus 2 1/2 cups chicken stock • 3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoon heavy cream • 2 large egg yolks • Coarse salt and freshly ground pepper to taste 1. Wash, core, and chop the cauliflower. Set aside. 2. Melt the butter in a stockpot over medium heat. When hot, add the leek and cook, stirring occasionally with a wooden spoon for several minutes, or until the leek has sweated its liquid but has not taken on color. 3. While stirring, sift the flour into the leek-butter mixture, and fully incorporate. Remove from the heat and set aside about 10 minutes, or until cooled slightly. 4. Place the stock in a saucepan over medium-high heat. Bring to a simmer, skimming off any foam or particles with a metal spoon. Remove from the heat and, whisking constantly, add the hot liquid to the leek mixture. 5. When well blended, return the stockpot to medium heat and bring to a simmer. Immediately add the reserved cauliflower and return to a bare simmer. Simmer, stirring occasionally with a wooden spatula to ensure that the bottom does not stick or burn, for about 20 minutes or until the cauliflower is tender. If at any point the cauliflower sticks or scalds, remove the cauliflower from the heat, transfer the soup to a clean pot without scraping the burned portion into the new pot, and return it to the stove. Do not allow the soup to continue cooking once it sticks or burns. 6. Remove the pot from the heat and either pass the soup through a food mill or purée it in a blender. Once processed, pass through a chinois into a clean saucepan. (I do not own a chinois, but used a very fine strainer instead and slowly pressed through all of the puréed soup into a bowl. It is a slow process, but the results are a silky-smooth liquid). This is the point I poured the soup into a container and froze it for several days. Once defrosted, I proceeded with the last steps. 7. Place a saucepan with the cauliflower soup over medium heat. Add 1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons of the heavy cream and bring to a simmer. 8. In a small bowl, whisk together the remaining 3 tablespoons cream and the 2 egg yolks. Whisk in some of the hot soup to temper the mixture before whisking it into the simmering soup. Taste, and if necessary, season with salt and pepper. Chill until ready to serve. CARROT-GINGER SORBET | recipe from Peggy Lampman • AnnArbor.com • 1 tablespoon finely chopped orange zest, plus fresh squeezed orange juice to equal 1/2 cup • 3/4 cup sugar • 3 cups carrot juice (available at Whole Foods) • 1 tablespoon grated fresh ginger 1. Mash orange zest with 1 teaspoon of the sugar to release the orange oils. 2. Combine orange and carrot juices. Stir in ginger, orange zest and remaining sugar and let stand until sugar dissolves, about 10 minutes. Stir well and refrigerate until well-chilled, about 2 to 4 hours. 3. Pour into an ice cream maker and prepare according to manufacturer's directions. 4. Store in a container in the freezer. TO ASSEMBLE • Ladle the chilled Cauliflower Soup into bowls. Drizzle with Parsley Oil, sprinkle with some Toasted Almonds, then add a scoop of the Carrot-Ginger Sorbet. Now, watch everyone's eyes light up when they taste this incredible soup! DESSERT -- Almond Cream Apple Tart • la fin • TAKE a LOOK: I love my dog. The French love their dogs. I have never had one person in France tell me "no" when I ask if I can photograph their dog. Isn't this a sweet little guy, hanging out on rue St. Paul in the Marais? If French dogs are not shopping with their owner... waiting for their owner... questioning their owner... strolling through the market with their owner... or manning the shop with their owner... well, then... they are probably relaxing at a café with their owner. Ahh.... the feel of the wind blowing through your fur while driving down rue St. Dominique on La Rive Gauche. I have the feeling this dog leads a very nice life in Paris. I think many dogs lead very nice lives in Paris. I'd like to request being a Parisian dog in my next life. He seems happy. I am certain the French would not subject their dogs to this kind of humiliation. My Pipi won't even smile for the camera. Is it really that painful? Oh Pips... you just have to wear the triceratops costume for a few hours on Halloween! That's it! I'll put it away after that. You never have to strap this to your head again! Promise. TAKE a LOOK: I have been asked many times if I enjoyed any good meals on my recent trip to Paris; my answer has been yes. Our first night and our last night in Paris we ate at a small, extremely popular restaurant called l'Epi Dupin on rue Dupin. I was first told of this restaurant on a trip in 2004, when I asked a Parisian woman I was speaking with if she could recommend a good place to eat. She told me we must to go to l'Epi Dupin -- it was where the "locals" ate. I had two marvelous meals there on this last trip, and I'm going to attempt recreating one of them for a dinner I'll be hosting next month. Preparing the meal shouldn't be that hard, but the Parisian ambiance... well, there are no cobbled streets outside of my dining room windows in St. Paul, Minnesota. I believe that part of the reason a meal tastes so good in Paris is... well... you're in Paris! Another little restaurant my sister and I fell in love with and visited three times was La Bocca Della Verita at 2 rue du Sabot, in the St. Germain des Près neighborhood of Paris. We walked by the restaurant one morning and vowed we'd return for lunch. My sister ordered Dolce Vita on our first visit -- ravioli with goat cheese, honey, and thyme. It was luscious. I had the Bufala salad -- Mozzarella di Bufala with Cherry Tomatoes and Mixed Greens. Every dish so simple, and yet incredibly good, the result of the chef using the best ingredients. Dessert for me was Affogato -- vanilla ice cream drizzled with hot espresso. On our second visit we had an early dinner in French terms -- 7 o'clock. My sister's meal was a dish of mixed grilled vegetables with a vegetable purée, artichokes, mozzarella di Bufala and cherry tomatoes, mixed salad and Proscuitto. I seriously considered eating the Bufala salad again, but fortunately, at the last minute I decided to try the Piccata, a veal cutlet with a light cream of Sorrento lemon -- an excellent choice. Dessert that night was two different Tiramisu that we shared, of course. One, the traditional, and the second, Red Fruit Tiramisu. All I can say is... man, were they good! We started this meal with a glass of the restaurant's Strawberry Prosecco on ice. It's difficult to get my sister to join me in a glass of wine with our meals; she just doesn't care for it. But when she saw someone else drinking the red Prosecco, she was totally on board. We each had one that night... and then returned the following night for another glass of the Strawberry Prosecco which we enjoyed in front of the restaurant on two little stools by the window. That's where we met these four chefs and a wizard on the narrow cobbled street. only in Paris, right? :: Mozzarella di Bufala with Cherry Tomatoes and Mixed Greens • Mixed salad greens • Cherry tomatoes, organic and heirloom if possible • 8-ounce ball of fresh Mozzarella di Bufala (buffalo mozzarella) • Balsamic vinegar • Extra-virgin olive oil • Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste This salad is all about using the absolute best ingredients you can. Place the salad greens on a large plate; surround the greens with a ring of halved cherry tomatoes. Position the Mozzarella di Bufala in the center of the greens. There is no substitution for this. A regular "fresh mozzarella" won't have the flavor the Bufala does. It is worth every cent! Drizzle the salad with the balsamic and the olive oil. Serve with a tasty baguette, a glass of wine, and enjoy! TAKE a LOOK: I was first introduced to ZUBER wallpaper about 20+ years ago through a home in Saint Paul, Minnesota. The foyer, larger than my kitchen and big enough to accommodate an Empire sofa, was papered in a pictorial scene that was original to the turn-of-the-century residence. It was, I found, a wallpaper by the French company ZUBER. I appreciate what is involved in the printing of this wallpaper. As a former art major at the Kansas City Art Institute, I often silk-screened and block-printed paper and fabric. But covering the walls in my own home with wallpaper such as this has never appealed to me; a good thing, since hand-printed paper with the legacy of ZUBER is pretty spendy. I was totally infatuated and intrigued, however, by what I had just discovered. You see... my maiden name is Zuber. Probably to my father's dismay (and I am certain, everyone else in my family), I have spent much of the past 20+ years trying to find a connection between my German ancestors and the ZUBER wallpaper dynasty in France. I have always felt I must be French -- not German. My father's family came from Baiertal, Baden-Wurttemberg, Germany. Close, but not that close, to the French border. Zuber in German translates to "wash-tub", not an encouraging insight. Correspondence with the Amana Historical Society in my hometown of Amana, Iowa, Ancestry.com, and the U.S. division of ZUBER has produced absolutely nothing. Turning a corner last week onto rue des Saints Pères, while strolling cobbled streets on the Left Bank of Paris, and suddenly seeing the giant, gold ZUBER name painted on the glossy, black wood surround of the shop's entrance, left my sister and me momentarily speechless -- a rarity to say the least. The shop at 18, rue des Saints Pères, houses the ZUBER paint line. It consists of two small rooms; the first with floor to ceiling black, enameled shelves, filled with paint cans and stacked, heavy, glass sample bottles with silver lids reminiscent of ink wells. What can I say... a paint store unlike any I've ever seen. A very old, black-lacquered hat box with the lid covered in ZUBER wallpaper and the interior lined in a glossy, black paper printed with repeat ZUBER's in gold letters was part of a display in the front window. The second room had a pictorial scene, hand block-printed directly onto the walls with ZUBER paints. The light of the chandelier bouncing off the crystals, and onto the color-saturated stone surfaces was truly magical. After stepping behind a ZUBER papered folding screen and finding the shop's paint mixing equipment, I felt our enthusiastic welcome was wearing thin, and I put my camera away. I had explained to the young woman in the shop why we were so excited to be there, and she was extremely kind, letting me photograph the interior -- something, I felt, they normally do not allow. ZUBER wallpaper samples were in a shop three doors down which displayed the paper in a large room where the floor, walls, and fireplace were all constructed of creamy limestone, a simplicity that complemented the elegant papers. And, just in case you're wondering... ZUBER wallpaper is manufactured at 28 rue Zuber, in Rixheim, France. There are show-rooms in Paris, New York, Dubai, London, Nice, and Moscow. Maybe ZUBER needs a mid-west rep in the Twin Cities? TAKE a LOOK: I'm taking off... on a little trip to the City of Lights. It's been awhile... 3 years since I was last in Paris. All I want to do is walk the cobbled streets, explore the hidden gardens, and absorb the beauty. I'm also perfectly happy just sitting and watching the world go by (while sipping a café crème, of course). I will never tire of La Tour Eiffel... café menus... or strolling along the Seine. photo of L.K -- Google Images And if I see Lenny Kravitz eating a falafel, all the better! Back in October... TAKE a LOOK: Every Saturday morning during the summer months, my husband and I ride our bikes along the Mississippi River from Saint Paul to downtown Minneapolis. Our destination is the Mill City Farmers Market, founded in 2006 to promote local, sustainable, and organic agriculture. During the early 1900's, Minneapolis led U.S. cities in flour production with 18 flour mills near St. Anthony Falls on the Mississippi River. Mill City Farmers Market overlooks the falls and is nestled between the Mill City Museum and the new Guthrie Theater. the Guthrie Theater I feel the same way about this farmers market as I do about France -- it's hard to take a bad photo when there is so much beauty. Here's a little tour... TAKE a LOOK: Pipi's the star of the magazine article | photo by Susan Gilmore Eileen's Kitchen | photo by Susan Gilmore photo by Susan Gilmore | kitchen design by Kathryn Olmstead I'm leaving my kitchen and getting out-of-town for several days. I haven't been to Ohio to visit Antique-of-the-Week Susan for several years now and am timing this visit to coincide with my twin grand-nephews' 4th birthdays (They call me "Great Eileen". Don't you like the sound of that?). Just a short trip, and then I'll be home again to help my daughter pack up for college (sniff, sniff). While I'm gone, check out my new Recipe Index. I have finally completed the listing of everything that has comes out of the Passions to Pastry kitchen! I'll be back home and baking soon. TAKE a LOOK: |
Categories
All
|