Showing posts with label Tinky Weisblat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tinky Weisblat. Show all posts

13 July 2012

In Memoriam Pimiento Cheese

The ingredients in a bowl....
Last Saturday my family and I gave a gala party to celebrate the life of my mother Jan (a.k.a. Taffy), who died in December. We delighted in good food, good drink, and good company.

Being basically lazy, I asked guests to bring food, which they did in abundance. Pam brought tea sandwiches, Debbie brought potato salad, Trina brought the biggest green salad I have ever seen, Ruth brought shrimp, Peter brought MORE shrimp in a salad with artichokes and cilantro pesto, Mary Stuart brought quinoa, Leslie brought delicate cookies, Mardi and David brought watermelon, and so on.

SOMEBODY brought champagne. (I have no idea who, but it was very nice indeed.)

My family supplied tubs of Bart’s ice cream with homemade sauces and tested a recipe from our friend Lark Fleury for pimiento cheese.

Lark tells me that after fried chicken this cheese is the most popular funeral-related food among her neighbors in coastal Alabama. (I wasn’t about to mess with fried chicken in hot weather!)

Her recipe is quite different from my usual one; the mustard, onion, and relish add complexity to the spread. I gave most of the cheese to our friend Pam to put in some of her tea sandwiches, but my family also tried a bit on crackers. I know my mother would have approved.

If you’d like to read more about the party, visit my non-food blog for a full report.

Lark’s Alabamian Pimiento Cheese

Ingredients:

1 pound sharp cheddar cheese, finely grated (it won’t surprise regular readers to learn that I grated it rather coarsely, I’m sure)
1/4 cup of grated onion
1 4-ounce jar diced pimentos drained (I may have used a little extra pimiento)
2 teaspoons prepared mustard
1/2 cup sweet pickle relish
1/4 cup mayonnaise (more or less)
a dash of pepper

Instructions:

Combine all the ingredients, beginning with just a dab of mayonnaise and adding more until the cheese is spreadable.

Spread on bread/crackers or make small sandwiches. Store leftovers in the fridge.

Makes about 1 quart.

I THOUGHT I had taken a photo of the cheese in sandwiches, but it's not in my camera. So here's a better picture ... of the party's honoree last year....

26 October 2010

Mrs. Baker's Applesauce

Today I’m doing something I’ve never done before, revising an old post. I have quite a few apples on hand (although not as many as I did two years ago, when I originally posted this recipe). So I’m returning to the recipe myself and thought readers might like to come along.

When I first posted it, I didn’t have any regular readers—so I don’t know how many of you, if any, have looked at it.


Here are my words (slightly edited) from October 2008:


This year has seen the most abundant apple harvest I can recall in our corner of New England. My neighbor Alice speculates that our literal windfall of apples has something to do with the hatching of swarms of bees just as the apple trees blossomed last spring.

All I know is that our apple trees, most of which are older than anyone living on our road, suddenly acted like fertile teenagers.

Naturally, my mother and I have made large quantities of applesauce. Applesauce is the perfect fall comfort food, and it’s amazingly easy to make, especially if you have a food mill. Food mills render the peeling and coring of apples completely unnecessary.

The skin, core, and seeds of the apple cook along with the sauce, adding flavor to the end product, and then get pushed out and discarded. The residue left in the food mill is surprisingly small.

If you don’t have a food mill, you will have to peel and core your apples. On the other hand, you will end up with lumpy applesauce, which some people prefer to the smoother version.

As you can see in the photographs above and below, my food mill requires me to push the apple pulp manually through the holes in the mill. My neighbor Peter has a relatively high-tech machine with a crank that does most of the work. Either type of mill is definitely worth purchasing.

My applesauce is named after Abigail Baker, who lived around the corner from our property in Hawley, Massachusetts, in the 18th and early 19th centuries. Mrs. Baker is famous (in our corner of the world, at any rate) for creating the winning pudding in a late 18th-century pudding contest that gave our district, Pudding Hollow, its name.



When my friend Judith Russell and I began work on our Pudding Hollow Cookbook, Judy suggested that we include a recipe for Mrs. Baker’s applesauce. Somehow it slipped through the cracks then so I’m rectifying that omission here on my blog.

I have portrayed Mrs. Baker several times in the entertainment that accompanies our revived pudding contest. And I see her grave every time I visit my what my nephew Michael calls my father’s “burial crypt” in the Pudding Hollow Cemetery. Hawley’s most celebrated cook is therefore seldom out of my thoughts.

Judy, too, is in my thoughts a lot, especially at this time of year. She died in the autumn of 1994, but her colorful folk art and sunny spirit live on in our hills, in our hearts, and in my cookbook.


Mrs. Baker’s Windfall Applesauce

Ingredients:

enough apples to make 6 generous cups of cut-up apples (preferably more than 1 variety)
1 cinnamon stick
1 pinch salt
1/4 cup cider plus additional cider as needed
maple syrup to taste, depending on the tartness of your apples (I used 2 tablespoons for the batch pictured here, which was relatively sweet)

Instructions:

Wash the apples and quarter them (actually, I tend to cut them into eighths if they are at all big). Remove any bad spots, but don’t worry about cutting out the core and seeds if you have a food mill.

Place the apple pieces, the cinnamon stick, the salt, and the cider in a 4-quart pot. Bring the mixture to a simmer over low heat, covered, and simmer it until the apples soften, checking frequently to see whether you need to add more cider to keep the sauce from burning. The cooking time will depend on the type and age of your apples and how many of them you are using. A 6-cup batch may take as little as 25 minutes, but a larger, firmer batch can take up to an hour.

Let the apples cool for a few minutes; then run them through a food mill. Discard the pulp and seeds (excellent pig food or compost!), and place the sauce in a saucepan. Add maple syrup to taste, and heat until the syrup dissolves, stirring to keep the syrup from burning.

If you want to can your sauce, reheat it to the boiling point, ladle it into sterilized jars, and process pint jars in a boiling-water bath for 20 minutes.

The yield will depend on your apples. Six generous cups of apple pieces provide about 1 pint of sauce. Feel free to multiply this recipe if your apple harvest is copious.




04 January 2010

Thinking Ahead in 2010

New Year’s Resolutions can be tricky things. If we take them too seriously—try to turn our lives around completely—they can be dangerously difficult to maintain.

Instead of making impossible resolutions this January, therefore, I’m using the turn of the year for reflection and planning. Naturally, In Our Grandmothers’ Kitchens is coming in for its share of both activities.

This weekend I looked over many of my posts from the past year or so in an effort to figure out where the blog goes from here. I have selected several types of post that have turned out to be very popular with readers, with me, or with both.

Here they are, in alphabetical order:

Characters I Have Known such as Florette Zuelke and Sylvia Hubbell;

Comfort Food like Faith’s Tunafish & Noodles or Irish Stew;

Contributions from Friends & Readers, such as Erin’s Pizza or Mike’s Louisiana Red Beans & Rice;

Historical Figures, Events, and Places, including Susan B. Anthony and George Washington’s Gristmill;

Holidays, from Mardi Gras to Oatmeal Month (I know oatmeal month isn’t technically a holiday, but we did celebrate it last year!);

Local and Seasonal Foods, from Rhubarb to Squash;

Songs and Music, including such popular standards as “September Song” and Moon River”;

TV and Film Figures and Foods, featuring people like Vivian Vance and Harriet Nelson.

In the next year I hope to touch on each of these categories at least once a month (which probably means I’ll get to them once every other month; I AM a procrastinator!).

I’ll also be continuing my monthly Twelve Cookies of Christmas series.

And naturally I’ll frequently have to resort to posting a recipe for What We Just Ate.

Some people might argue that each of my categories could spark its own blog. It’s always been both a weakness and a strength of mine that I have many, many passions.

This scattered interest makes it hard for me to focus at times. I think it makes me a more interesting person, cook, and writer, however.

As the year goes by I hope regular readers—and even irregular readers—will help me build up the different categories. Please let me know which of them you favor.

And of course please tell me what I have left out that you’d like to read about.

Two of the categories—Contributions from Readers & Friends and The Twelve Cookies of Christmas—will depend on you in large part for contributions. The name of this blog is In OUR Grandmothers’ Kitchens, after all. Please consider submitting a recipe (with background information) to me in the next few months.

I hope together we’ll have a delicious new year!


Paula Rice, the Senior Slicer at the Meat Counter at Avery’s, slices dried beef.


Frizzled Beef

Since I’ve spent so much time mulling over the past year recently today’s recipe naturally falls into the What We Just Ate category (although it’s also highly eligible for Comfort Food!).

My mother and I invited friends to supper Saturday night. What with snow falling outside and lots of work to do, we didn’t have much opportunity to shop or cook that day.

So we ended up with Frizzled Beef (a.k.a. chipped beef, a.k.a. S.O.S. or Same Old … um … Stuff).
Our local general store, Avery’s, stocks lovely dried beef at this time of year. The nice folks behind the meat counter will slice as much or as little as one likes.

The beef saves for weeks so it’s a great fallback food on snowy days. And it cooks up in minutes.
The recipe I used for the beef came from Gam, our neighborhood matriarch, as did Saturday’s oyster recipe. (I used to stay at her house a lot at this time of year so I guess I’m thinking of her!)

If you want to vary it, you may sauté a little onion and/or celery in butter in your frying pan before you add more butter and the dried beef.

You may also throw cooked peas and/or a pinch of thyme into the final product.

Frizzled beef may be eaten over biscuits, puff pastry, cornbread, or a baked potato. My mother and I had just baked some fresh oatmeal bread the other evening so we served it on toast. A salad and brownies completed our supper.

The guests didn’t complain about the simplicity of the meal. It was warm and tasty. And it was enhanced by candlelight and conversation. (Don’t forget those important ingredients when you serve it yourself.)

Ingredients:

1/2 pound dried beef
a pat of butter the size of an egg
flour as needed
1 egg yolk beaten into 1 cup milk (plus a little more if needed) and 3/4 teaspoon Dijon mustard
freshly ground pepper to taste

Instructions:

If you are averse to a lot of salt, rinse the beef carefully and pat it dry. Dried beef is heavily cured (that’s why it lasts so long) so it can be very salty.

Melt the butter in a medium frying pan. When it is hot, add the beef and toss it around to coat it in the butter.

Dust the warm beef with flour and toss it around for a minute or two. Pour in the egg mixture. Bring the mixture just to the boil, adding a bit more milk if it looks very thick; then dish it up.

Serves 4.

24 December 2009

Peppermint-Swirl Brownies


Regular readers may ask whether in fact I didn’t just post a peppermint-brownie recipe. The answer is yes, I did, and I’m not ashamed to admit it!

I don’t believe a cook can combine chocolate and peppermint too often at this time of year. And the two brownie recipes, although both good, are quite different.

This one is a holiday version of a basic cream-cheese brownie. The fudgy base is adapted from King Arthur Flour. The cream-cheese-peppermint layer might be a bit much on any other day of the year, but not on Christmas Eve.

We took them yesterday to lunch with my one of my mother’s oldest friends, Riley Yriart, and her son Juan. My mother and Riley met in France in 1937 and still like to get together whenever they can.

Riley may look a little doubtful about the brownies in the photo below, but she did seem to like them.


Jan (left) and Riley met in college. They still enjoy each other's company--and a little good food and good wine.

Ingredients:

for the brownie base:

1 cup (2 sticks) sweet butter
2 cups sugar
2/3 cup Dutch-process cocoa
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 tablespoon vanilla
4 eggs
1-1/2 cups flour
12 ounces (2 cups) chocolate chips

for the peppermint layer:

8 ounces cream cheese, at room temperature
1/2 cup sugar
1 egg
1 pinch salt
1 teaspoon peppermint extract
1 or 2 drops of red food coloring (enough to make the mixture a gentle pink–optional)
4 to 5 candy canes, crushed (the more pulverized the better)

Instructions:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Line a 9-by-13-inch pan with parchment paper or foil, and grease the parchment (or foil).

Begin with the brownie base. In a 3-quart saucepan over low heat melt the butter. Add the 2 cups of sugar, and stir to combine. Return the mixture to the heat briefly—until hot but not bubbling. (It will become shiny looking as you stir it.)

Remove it from the heat and let it cool briefly while you assemble the other ingredients.

Stir in the cocoa, salt, baking powder, and vanilla. Add the eggs, beating until smooth; then stir in the flour and chocolate chips. Spoon the batter into your pan.

Next, work on the cream-cheese layer. In a small mixing bowl beat the cream cheese. Beat in the 1/2 cup sugar, egg, salt, peppermint extract, and food coloring (if you’re using it). Gently stir in the candy.

Spoon the cream cheese gently on top of the brownie batter; then use a knife to swirl it around gently.

Bake the brownies until they just start to brown on the very edges (30 to 35 minutes). Remove them from the oven.

After 5 to 10 minutes loosen the edges of the parchment paper or foil. Cool completely before cutting and serving.

Makes about 2 dozen brownies, depending on how large you cut them.

We wish you a Merry Christmas!

22 December 2009

Mexican Chicken Pizza


My family and I were looking for something simple to make and eat while trimming our Christmas tree—and then Erin Cosby Idehenre posted a picture on Facebook of a pizza she had just made!

Erin is the great-granddaughter of Mary Parker (a.k.a. Gam), the late matriarch of my Hawley, Massachusetts, neighborhood. So we’re sort of related.

A multitalented young woman, Erin has two spirited little daughters, five-year-old Paige and five-month-old Mina, and a darling marine husband, Azi.

(I may be predisposed toward Azi because we met at a family event at which everyone was singing. When he heard my voice he asked whether I was an opera singer. Some people might say this indicates that he doesn’t know a lot about music. I say it indicates that he’s insightful!)

Erin’s picture of her creation looked so good that I had to make the pizza. She gave me the basic outlines, and I adapted a few things as is my wont.

My family was skeptical of the pizza’s original name, Chicken Taco Pizza. So I changed it to Mexican Chicken Pizza. (Sorry, Erin! You’re still a great cook!) The pizza isn’t really Mexican since Erin lives in North Carolina and I live in Massachusetts, but it is influenced by Mexican cuisine.

You’ll note that the recipe makes two pizzas. You may make two and freeze one, cut the ingredients in half, or use the ingredients listed and just pile them on a bit thicker.

You may also add to the pizza as you like. I was feeding a small child and didn’t want to get too spicy, but adults might like jalapeños on the thing.

However you make it, the recipe is a winner. We’re thinking of making it again Christmas Eve (and maybe even New Year’s Eve with leftover Christmas turkey!). It’s simple, tasty, and satisfying.

We’re confident that Santa will enjoy the piece we plan to leave out for him. No coal for us this year!

left to right: Paige, Azi, Erin, and Baby Mina

Chicken (or even Turkey) Taco Pizza a.k.a. Mexican Pizza

Ingredients:

for the crust:


2 1-pound packages of commercial pizza dough (make your own if you want to; I got lazy)

for the black beans:

extra-virgin olive oil as need for sautéing
1 medium onion, finely chopped
1 garlic clove, minced
1 bay leaf (optional)
1 teaspoon ground cumin or cumin seed
1/2 teaspoon salt
several turns of the pepper grinder
1/2 cup chicken stock
1 15-ounce can black beans

for the chicken:

1/4 cup chicken stock
2 to 3 cups cooked chicken, shredded
1 teaspoon chili powder
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin or cumin seed

for assembly:

the black bean mixture above
12 ounces shredded cheese (a mixture of Monterey Jack and cheddar works well)
the chicken mixture above
1 7-ounce can chopped green chiles
1 6-ounce can pitted ripe olives, drained and chopped into little rings

optional garnishes:

salsa fresca (or jarred salsa if fresh is unavailable)
sour cream
guacamole (we didn’t have it and thus didn’t use it, but it would be good!)
minced fresh cilantro

Instructions:

Bring the pizza dough to room temperature and preheat the oven as indicated in your dough instructions.

While the oven is preheating do the quick cooking of the beans and the chicken.

Start with the bean mixture. In a 2-quart saucepan with a fairly wide bottom (so you can start by sautéing) heat a splash of oil over medium-high heat until it begins to shimmer. Throw in the onion and garlic pieces, and sauté them for a couple of minutes to release their aroma and juices. Add the seasonings and stir for a minute; then stir in the stock and beans.

Bring the bean mixture to a boil, reduce the heat to medium, and simmer, stirring frequently, for 5 to 10 minutes—until the seasonings have mellowed a little and some of the liquid has evaporated. Set aside, and move onto the chicken mixture.

In a small frying pan over medium heat bring 1/4 cup chicken stock to a boil. Throw in the chicken, chili powder, and cumin, and cook for a minute or two, stirring. The seasonings should be well distributed throughout the chicken, and most of the stock should have evaporated. Set this mixture aside as well.

Next, roll and/or stretch each piece of pizza dough out gently (this may take a few tries) so that it forms a 14-inch circle (or a rectangle to go onto a cookie sheet if you don’t have a pizza pan). Use a little flour to help with this if necessary.


Spray your pans lightly with cooking spray and oil them even more lightly. Place the dough on the pans.

Divide the bean mixture between the two pizzas, and use a spatula to spread it almost to the edges of the pizzas. Sprinkle the cheese on next, followed by the chicken, green chiles, and olives.

Bake the pizza until the cheese is nicely melted and the bottom of the crust turns golden brown. With my crust (from Trader Joe’s) and my oven (old) this took 10 to 12 minutes.

Place the garnishes on bowls at the table so people can help themselves. (Erin put them on herself before serving the pizza; you may also do this.)

Makes 2 pizzas.

The last piece of pizza looked lonely. Fortunately, it didn't have to wait long to be eaten!

17 November 2009

Blues in the Night (Deb's Blueberry Barbecue Sauce)


Johnny Mercer was born 100 years ago tomorrow, on November 18, 1909. A statue of the lyricist will be unveiled in his hometown, Savannah Georgia, on his birthday.

Tributes have been going on all year and will continue, including my own show “Blues in the Night,” scheduled for Friday evening, November 20. (I may just have mentioned it before!)

Alice Parker and I named our program “Blues in the Night” after one of Mercer’s best known musical creations.

“Blues” made its debut in a 1941 Warner Bros. film that was named after the song as soon as the producers heard it and realized what a musical hit they had on their hands.

The film itself, which recently aired on Turner Classic Movies, is peculiar to say the least.

It recounts the adventures of a small group of jazz musicians, including the dour Richard Whorf, the future film director Elia Kazan, and the always over-the-top Jack Carson.

These tunesters roam around the country trying to make a living being true to themselves as artists by playing music that is authentically American and bluesy.

They are inspired while sitting in a jail cell after a fight with a bar patron who wanted them to play less exalted music. As they ponder their future an African-American in a nearby cell (it’s a segregated jail) starts intoning,

My mama done tol’ me, when I was in knee highs,
My mama done tol’ me, “Son,
“A woman’ll sweet talk and give you the big eye,
“But when the sweet talkin’s done, a woman’s a two-face,
“A worrisome thing who’ll leave you to sing
“The Blues in the Night……”


The musicians immediately vow to run out and create the sort of authentic American folk jazz they have just heard.

Of course, one might think they would start by hiring the talented singer to whom they have just listened. Instead, they team up with Priscilla Lane. She’s pretty, but she’s a musical lightweight.

The film continues to defy expectations by throwing in assorted genres (it’s a musical, it’s a romance, it’s a gangster movie) and leaving plot lines dangling.

What looks like an incipient love interested between Lane and Whorf disappears. The rather pale musician who coughs a lot early in the film, who would end up dying of consumption in a normal Hollywood movie, loses his cough with no explanation.

The Bad Girl (Betty Field) who vamps half the male cast has about as much sex appeal as a flounder so the plot twists about her strong hold on men’s hearts and minds are rendered completely unbelievable. And so forth.

What shines in the movie–and haunts the soundtrack–is “Blues in the Night.” Happily, no one expected Priscilla Lane to sing this rather challenging song. It is repeated mostly instrumentally through the film, and it makes the story more moving than it would otherwise be.

Watching the film it was hard for me to believe that before it came out “Blues in the Night” didn’t exist. When they wrote it, Mercer and composer Harold Arlen created that rare thing, a song that sounds as though it has been around forever–as though it has sprung organically from ordinary people’s real lives.

More than the box cars and jail sets in which the actors pose, ”Blues” evokes the material conditions of working Americans just coming out of the Great Depression.

And more than any emotions expressed by this not very exciting cast (the best actors are in minor roles) the song expresses love and loss, humor and pathos–the very soul of the blues.

It’s not really in my ideal repertoire. Like Priscilla Lane I’m a lightweight singer. But I can’t resist its siren call.

Please sing it tomorrow in honor of Johnny Mercer’s birthday. If you feel a little lightweight, here’s a recipe to give you some substance.

It was invented by Debra Kozikowski of Chicopee, Massachusetts. Deb is a political activist and blogger who has recently launched her own food blog, The Other Woman Cooks. She won a contest sponsored by the U.S. Highbush Blueberry Council with this blueberry barbecue sauce.

Here’s the link to Deb's original post. As you can see, she is an avid fan of picking your own berries in season, although she did tell me I could use frozen berries for this recipe!

Debby marinated pork or chicken in the sauce and then grilled the meat, basting with the sauce. My grilling season is over so I browned medallions of pork tenderloin and baked them in the barbecue sauce (and just a little water) at 375 degrees for 45 minutes, uncovering them for the last few minutes.

I think you could probably use the sauce interchangeably with regular barbecue sauce. Like “Blues in the Night” it combines sweetness and heat in surprising fashion


Deb’s “Blues in the Night” Barbecue Sauce

Ingredients:

2 cups blueberries, fresh or frozen
1/2 cup cider vinegar
1/2 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup ketchup
1 tablespoon molasses
1 teaspoon chili powder (I made this heaping)
1 teaspoon black pepper (I ground about 15 times)
1/2 teaspoon salt (Deb didn’t include this, but I thought it enhanced the flavors
1/2 cup water

Instructions:

Bring all the ingredients to a low boil in a saucepan. Reduce heat and simmer until slightly thickened and chunky. Deb said this took 10 to 15 minutes; for me it took about 20 because when my frozen blueberries defrosted they were pretty wet.

Makes about 2 cups of sauce.




06 November 2009

My Huckleberry Friend: A Johnny Mcrcer Tribute

Lyricist Johnny Mercer (Savannah Morning News)


A Johnny Mercer lyric is all the wit you wish you had and all the love you ever lost.

So said Frank Sinatra, one of the great interpreters of American song.

The lyricist John Herndon Mercer (1909-1976) would have turned 100 on November 18. His centennial is being celebrated with tributes all over the world and particularly in his hometown of Savannah, Georgia.

Naturally, I have to get in the act!

Composer/pianist Alice Parker and I will perform a local tribute to Mercer’s music on Friday, November 20, in Colrain, Massachusetts.

Mercer wrote the words to hundreds of memorable songs, including “That Old Black Magic,” “Something’s Gotta Give,” “Jeepers Creepers,” “Days of Wine and Roses,” and “The Autumn Leaves.”

Perhaps because he worked with many different composers, Mercer’s legacy is a little dimmer in the popular mind than those of lyricists such as Cole Porter, Ira Gershwin, and Oscar Hammerstein II. Singers like me love to perform his songs, however.

The Sinatra quotation says it all. Mercer produced brilliant, lively numbers like “Accentuate the Positive” and funny ones like “Lonesome Polecat” from the film Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. Sung by lonely woodchoppers, it offers one of my all-time favorite lines: “A man can’t sleep when he sleeps with sheep.”

And then Mercer hit the ear with a lyric of love and longing like “Blues in the Night” or “Come Rain or Come Shine.” Sometimes it’s all a singer can do to get through these songs without crying.

A couple of my favorite Mercer lyrics are among his more obscure works. I’m a sucker for a sweet tune called “Lullaby” from the short-lived Broadway show Saint Louis Woman, which he wrote with composer Harold Arlen in 1946.

It tenderly evokes memories of early childhood and laments our collective inability to recreate the feelings we had in our parents’ arms.

I also relish one of Mercer’s earliest songs, “Satan’s Li’l Lamb,” a collaboration with Arlen and lyricist Yip Harburg. The three threw it together for an African-American review in New York in 1932.

As soon as the great Broadway belter Ethel Merman heard it she ran out and recorded it. The music and lyrics are bluesy and sad but also funny and self-deprecatory, full of jazz rhythms and chords.

“Satan’s L’il Lamb” also winds up with a high, dramatic passage. High, dramatic passages are better than candy to us sopranos!

In addition to writing songs, Johnny Mercer was an influential performer and a pioneer in the recording industry.

He began his career as an actor and singer; he sang with both the Paul Whiteman and Benny Goodman Orchestras. In his prime he hosted regular radio shows in which he performed and promoted his own songs and those of his peers.

(Savannah Morning News)

In the 1940s he founded Capitol Records, the first major record company on the west coast and a music institution for years to come. It emphasized quality recordings, fairness to composers and musicians in paying royalties, and the development of new talent.

As both a writer and a performer Mercer had a knack for the vernacular that charmed his audience and knocked down doors. Savannah justly claims him as its favorite son; his temperament and artistic sensibility were authentically Southern.

His Southern streak carried disadvantages. Like his fellow sons of the South Tennessee Williams and William Faulkner, Mercer was an alcoholic.

Overall, however, his background stood him in good stead. It enabled him to blend much of the South’s character into his music: its slow pace, the African-American songs he sought out in his youth, the folk music of his Scottish-American heritage.

He wove the landscapes and the sounds of his childhood into his lyrics—the huckleberries he picked as a child, the meadows and the rivers in which he played, the “whoo, whoo” of the trains that passed through town, the lilt of his mother’s Southern accent.

I champion American popular music of all eras. I’m conscious, however that we don’t have lyricists like Johnny Mercer today—versatile poets with an ear for the rhythms of American life and the verve to promote their songs with humor and intelligence. As a historian, singer, and member of the public I’m enjoying getting to know his music better.

His song poems can tell stories as they do in “One for My Baby,” in which the narrator talks about his lost love to a bartender. They can act as traditional love ballads as in “I’m Old Fashioned.” Or they can string together images and sounds to convey a patchwork of emotions as in “Moon River”:

Two drifters, off to see the world.
There’s such a lot of world to see.
We’re after the same rainbow’s end.
Waiting ‘round the bed.
My Huckleberry friend,
Moon River and me.

All of us should take time on November 18 to sing a Mercer tune and or/listen to some of the music of America’s Huckleberry Friend.

The Johnny Mercer Foundation’s web site has a “Johnny Mercer Jukebox” listeners can play. And Turner Classic Movies is featuring his film music every Wednesday during November.

“Blues in the Night,” my program with Alice Parker, will take place at the Green Emporium on Friday, November 20, beginning at 8:30 pm. Pizza, cocktails, and dessert will be served. Reservations are suggested; the restaurant’s number is 413-624-5122.




26 October 2009

Teacher Bread


This moist, sweet bread makes a better bribe than a plain old apple. I was going to try it with raisins or dried cranberries (which you may certainly do), but my nephew Michael cast his vote for apricots.

The bread we made together goes perfectly with mulled cider.


My familiar is getting ready for Halloween! Ladies and gentlemen, the lovely and talented Lorelei Lee.

Ingredients:

1 cup canola oil
1-1/2 cups brown sugar, firmly packed
3 eggs
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon cinnamon1 teaspoon baking powder
3 cups flour
2 cups grated apples
1 cup cut-up dried apricots
1 cup chopped nuts (optional)

Instructions:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Combine the oil and sugar and beat in the eggs.

Beat in the baking soda, cinnamon and baking powder. Stir in the salt. Stir in the apples, apricots and nuts (if desired).

Bake in greased loaf pans for 45 to 60 minutes, until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.

Makes 2 loaves.

I'm getting ready for Halloween myself!

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23 October 2009

Apple-Sage Cheese Spread

I am FINALLY back to apples, thanks to my friends at the West County Independent. My apple recipes and photos were lost in the most recent Great Tinky Computer Debacle, but the wonderful Ginny and Kim have retrieved some of them from an article I wrote for the paper.

So–here is the apple-cheddar spread I promised a couple of weeks ago. It is creamy and refreshing on crackers or even on apples. If you don’t have fresh sage, you may use dried, but fresh is best.

Ingredients:

1/2 small red onion, peeled and finely chopped
a small amount of butter for sautéing
1 medium apple, cored and sliced but not peeled
4 ounces (1/2 brick) cream cheese, softened
3/4 cup (packed) shredded sharp cheddar cheese
6 to 10 fresh sage leaves, depending on taste, finely chopped (plus additional unchopped sage for garnish)

Instructions:

In a small, nonstick frying pan, sauté the onion pieces in the butter until they start to soften.

Add the apple pieces. Cook and keep stirring until they are slightly soft as well.

Beat the cheeses together with a mixer or a wooden spoon. Stir in the apples, onion pieces, and chopped sage.
Place the mixture in a bowl. Chill for at least 1 hour to allow the flavors to blend; then bring the spread to room temperature before serving.

Makes just under two cups, more or less, depending on the size of your apple.

09 October 2009

Tinky's Cider Butternut Soup

My laptop is still suffering–but I am attempting a post because I have NEWS!

I, Tinky Weisblat, will be one of the featured Western Massachusetts artisans on Monday's episode of the television program Making It Here.

The segment will focus on my work as a food writer and will depict the creation of my soon-to-be-world-famous Cider Butternut Soup.

Local viewers take note: The episode will air this coming Monday, October 12, at 7:30 pm on Channel 57 (WGBY-TV) in Springfield, Massachusetts. Those of you who watch, please be kind. I know I need a face lift! Look at the soup instead of at me.

Of course, all of you may try the soup! Here’s the recipe………..

Ingredients:

2 to 3 tablespoons butter
1-1/2 large onions, coarsely chopped
2 cloves garlic, coarsely chopped
2 medium apples (fairly solid ones for cooking; I used Ginger Gold), cored and chopped but not necessarily peeled
3 cups roasted butternut squash puree (for roasting instructions, see my post about the Blue Heron Restaurant, which has another great butternut recipe!)
1-1/2 tablespoons honey
1 teaspoon (at least) freshly grated nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
3/4 teaspoon salt
lots of freshly ground pepper
6 cups chicken or vegetable stock
2 cups hard cider (I used West County Cider McIntosh, a sweet and fruity cider)
2 cups heavy cream (I used Mapleline)
toasted pecans or croutons for garnish (optional)

Instructions:

In a 4-quart Dutch oven melt the butter. When it begins to talk to you, sauté the onions and garlic until they are soft (about 5 minutes).

Add the apple pieces, and sauté until they are moistened, about 2 minutes.

Stir in the squash, followed by the honey, nutmeg, cayenne, salt, and pepper. Stir for a minute or two (taking care to keep the mixture from burning); then stir in the stock.

Bring the soup to a boil. Cover it about 7/8 of the way, and turn it down. Simmer for 30 to 40 minutes, until it tastes souplike.

Remove the soup from the heat, and puree it. I used my immersion blender for this (which worked as long as I kept it immersed; when I accidentally lifted it I think I got a little soup on the TV camera!). You may also use a blender or food processor, but be very careful to process this hot soup in batches.

In a nonstick frying pan over medium-high heat reduce the cider in half. (This takes only a few minutes.)

Add the cream and reduce in half again, whisking (again quite a short process).

You then have a choice. You may either stir the cider/cream reduction into the soup and serve it or put the reduction into a pitcher and let your guests drizzle it into the soup at the table.

Garnish with toasted nuts or croutons. Serves 6.



Two quick notes: First, thanks to those who emailed me or commented to note that I FORGOT TO PUT THE BUTTERNUT SQUASH IN THE LIST OF INGREDIENTS! A girl with a sick laptop is a girl on the edge, and I appreciated the reminders.

Second, those of you who live in the Pioneer Valley and aren't quite ready to make the transition to fall vegetables will be happy to read the comment below from Nikki Ciesluk, who reports that her family's lovely farmstand in Deerfield still has corn!

Happy Columbus Day weekend, all………

02 October 2009

Apple Picking

But I am done with apple picking now.

This line from Robert Frost’s “After Apple Picking” always moves me.

The poem speaks about the end of much more than apple picking–perhaps life, perhaps the creative process.

The speaker in the poem is weary of apple picking and, it seems, of existence–yet he is haunted by the destiny of the apples that remain unpicked.

“After Apple Picking” embodies perfectly the bittersweet time we’re about to enter here in New England.

It’s true that, if they’re not picked, soon even the loveliest and most perfect of apples will be pressed into cider or left on the side of the road for wild creatures to enjoy. The animals will nibble and then move on, leaving the once glorious apples sad and half eaten.

As our lives grow colder many of our relationships, hopes, dreams, projects, and loves will suffer similar fates.

Fall is about making transitions, about taking stock. As the harvest moon rises (as it will on Sunday) we sum up and evaluate what we have reaped over the summer.

Have we put up enough food for winter? Have we shared enough meals, enough money, enough laughter? Have we stacked enough wood for the coming months? Are our bodies fit enough to make it through winter’s darkness and ice?

We ask these questions not just as individuals but also as a community and a society. We donate more food, more clothes, more money for fuel and medicine as winter approaches.

I appreciate this time of reflection and want to honor it. Nonetheless, I can’t join Robert Frost in being done with apple picking.

I want to keep picking and eating apples, both literally and metaphorically. I want to make apple dishes and share them with friends and neighbors and readers.

I want to keep trying to improve my cooking, my writing, my relationships, and my world.

I’m not ready to be “overtired of the great harvest I myself desired.” Maybe this means I’m immature. Maybe it means I’m not a true Yankee. Whatever it means, I’m stuck with it.

Join me in picking and celebrating apples! Let’s keep as many as we can from the cider press and the gutter. We can treasure them in our root cellars, our kitchens, and our spirits.

As time goes by I’ll be sharing more recipes I’ve been enjoying as I engage in apple picking this early autumn.

I begin with the first of two apple-cheese spreads for which I have concocted recipes. I created it last fall, but somehow it didn’t make it onto this blog, which is a shame. It’s simple, and it combines two of my favorite foods.

If you use really great blue cheese — think Stilton or Roquefort! — this spread for crackers will be truly elegant. It’s pretty tasty with generic blue cheese, however.

You may be tempted to add a little more apple, but if you do you’ll end up with a rather wet spread.

Happy fall…………

(Courtesy of Susan Hagen)
Simple Apple-Blue Cheese Spread

Ingredients:

1 small onion, peeled and finely chopped
1-1/2 tablespoons sweet butter
2 large apples (about 2 cups), cored and sliced (but not peeled)
4 ounces (about 1 cup) blue cheese, crumbled
1 8-ounce brick cream cheese, softened

Instructions:

In a small, nonstick frying pan, sauté the onion pieces in the butter until they begin to soften. Add the apple pieces. Cook and keep stirring until they are slightly soft as well. Beat the cheeses together with a mixer or wooden spoon. Stir in the apple-onion mixture. Place the mixture in a bowl. Chill for at least 1 hour; then bring the spread to room temperature before serving. Makes about two cups.

Keep this spread refrigerated for up to three or four days, but be sure to bring it to room temperature again before you eat it to optimize flavor and texture.




16 September 2009

Peach Chipotle Sauce (Sort Of)

Sigh……….

Given my habit of losing just about everything, I guess it was only a matter of time before I mislaid a recipe.

Welcome to the mislaid-recipe post.

I actually made this dish TWICE. The first time I discovered that my camera had jammed just as the pork was ready to eat.

The second time the camera worked, but the recipe disappeared shortly after dinner.

I THINK I remember what I did. The recipe below replicates that memory. Unfortunately, I’m only about 80 percent sure of its accuracy.

Despite my qualms I wanted to post this sauce for readers before peach season ends because it is really, really delicious–a perfect balance of sweetness and heat.

I love it over cream cheese on crackers and also with pork. (It would probably be tasty with chicken, too.)

So here’s your chance to experiment along with me. If you do, please post a comment to let me know what you think of the recipe.

The Peach Chipotle Sauce

Ingredients:

1/2 small red onion, finely chopped
butter as necessary for sautéing
2 cups chopped peaches
1/2 cup light brown sugar, lightly packed
1/2 teaspoon salt1 chipotle in adobo, finely chopped (add a little more if you like things a little spicy; I do so I found 1-1/2 chipotles just right)

Instructions:

In a saucepan brown the onion in a little butter. Add the peaches, brown sugar, salt, and chopped chipotle.

Simmer the mixture until it reaches the desired consistency, stirring frequently. If you want to use it for baking (see below), you need to cook it only for about 15 minutes, until the flavors have melded but the consistency is not jam like.

If you want to serve it with cream cheese and crackers, cook it until it is jam like–that is, until it just begins to sheet, rather than drip, off a cold stainless-steel spoon.

This recipe makes about 1-1/2 cups of the jam-like version.


Peach Chipotle Pork Tenderloin

Ingredients:

1 generous pound pork tenderloin
a small amount of extra-virgin olive oil for sautéing
1-1/2 cups “drippy” peach chipotle sauce (see above)
1/2 cup water
pepper to taste
a little more salt to taste

Instructions:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Cut the tenderloin into small medallions. (This is neater if you place it in the freezer for 10 to 15 minutes before you slice it.)

Sauté the tenderloin in a small amount of olive oil to brown the medallions on both sides. Transfer them to a baking dish.

Combine the chipotle sauce, water, and pepper and pour them over the pork. Cover the baking dish, and place it in the preheated oven.

Bake for 45 minutes; then uncover the mixture and bake for 10 to 15 minutes more. Add a little salt if necessary to taste. Serve over noodles. Serves 4.




10 August 2009

Hooray for Hollywood!

This post doesn’t come with a recipe–but it does relate to food.

My neighbor Alice Parker and I will provide a little dinner cabaret next Thursday, August 20, on the patio at Chandler’s Restaurant at Yankee Candle Company in South Deerfield, Massachusetts.

Alice will be playing a borrowed keyboard–and I will be singing–from 6 to 9 pm as part of the restaurant’s 14 Years/14 Dollars anniversary celebration. Diners will get an informal barbecue supper and a chance to hear us perform for $14.

(Of course, people will probably want something to sip on and maybe a bite of dessert so the tab may come to a little more than that, but the evening is still a pretty good deal.)

Our show is titled HOORAY FOR HOLLYWOOD: SONGS FROM THE SILVER SCREEN’S GOLDEN AGE. We haven’t finalized the program yet. After all, we wouldn’t want to lose our freshness! I do know it will include a little Gershwin; a little Irving Berlin; and several songs with lyrics by the wonderful Johnny Mercer, whose 100th birthday is coming up.

If you’re nearby, please join us and sing along. If not, belt out a few tunes as you fix your own dinner that evening.

For reservations call 413-665-1277.

28 April 2009

Spring Break: Key Lime White Chocolate Chunk Cookies


You may have gathered that I LOVE key limes. I particularly adore these cookies, which are better than any commercial variety. I had to get the key-lime extract from a mail-order company, Silver Cloud Estates (1-410-484-4526), since the closest retail store was in Troy, New York. Fortunately, a small bottle of the stuff will last for quite a while! And the cookies are definitely worth the effort.

Ingredients:

1 cup (2 sticks) sweet butter at room temperature
3/4 cup white sugar
3/4 cup firmly packed brown sugar
2 eggs at room temperature
1 tablespoon key-lime extract
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
2-1/4 cups flour
2 cups (12 ounces) white chocolate chunks (purchased or cut off a bar of white chocolate; use chips instead of chunks if you must)

Instructions:

Beat the butter and sugars together until they are smooth and creamy. Beat in the eggs, 1 at a time, followed by the extract, baking soda, and salt. Stir in the flour. Gently mix in the chocolate chunks.

Chill the dough, well covered and sealed, for at least 12 hours and preferably for 24 or 36. I got this trick from an article published last July in The New York Times in which experts weighed in on the perfect chocolate-chip cookie. The article argued that the best CCCs chill for an extended period of time so that the eggs can sink into the flour. The chilling really does improve texture and (somehow!) flavor.

About 15 minutes before you are ready to bake your cookies, preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Drop the cookies in teaspoon-sized rounds onto parchment- or silicone-covered baking sheets. Bake them for 10 to 12 minutes, until they are a golden brown. Let them cool briefly on the sheets; then remove them to a rack to cool.

Makes about 60 cookies.


Hawley's Answer to Dorothy Lamour (I admit it! I Photoshopped my waist just a little!)

30 March 2009

Maple-Oatmeal Bread


I have one final entry for Massachusetts Maple Month. This is one of my favorite breads in the world—slightly sweet and filling. I always make a mess when I knead bread. How flour ends up on my face, I really don’t know! Luckily, the end product is worth the clean-up work.

Ingredients:

1 cup old-fashioned oats (do not use quick or steel cut)
2 cups boiling water
1 tablespoon butter
1 packet (about 2-1/4 teaspoons) active dry yeast (not instant)
1/4 cup lukewarm water
1/2 cup maple syrup
2 teaspoons salt
5-1/2 cups unbleached, all-purpose flour (more or less)

Instructions:

Place the oats in a large mixing bowl. Pour the boiling water over them, add the butter, and let the oatmeal stand for about 15 minutes, until it is lukewarm. After the first 10 minutes, place the yeast in a small bowl. Cover it with the lukewarm water. Allow it to bubble up for a few minutes.

When the oatmeal is lukewarm, stir in the maple syrup, the salt, the yeast with its water, and 2 cups of the flour. Stir vigorously; then add 2 cups more flour. Stir again vigorously for a minute or two; get as close to beating as you can with a mixture this heavy. Scoop up the dough (add a bit of flour if it won’t hold together to scoop), and place it on a kneading surface—a floured board or a silicone mat.

Knead the dough for 2 minutes, adding a little more flour to keep it from sticking to the surface and your hands. After those first 2 minutes, let the dough rest for up to 10 minutes; then resume kneading, adding more flour as needed. Knead for 5 to 10 minutes, until the dough feels smooth.

Place the dough in a large, greased bowl. Cover the bowl with a warm, damp dish towel. Let the dough rise until it doubles in bulk; this should take about 2 hours, depending on how warm the room is. If your towel dries out during the rising, be sure to dampen it again.

Remove the covering from the bowl, and punch down on the dough once with your fist. This lets out a lot of the air. (It’s also fun.) Cut the dough in half, and shape each half into a ball. Butter 2 bread pans, and shape each ball into an oval about the same size as your pans. Smooth the balls as well as you can with your hands.

Place the bread loaves in the buttered pans, and turn them over so that both the tops and the bottoms have touched the butter. Cover the pans with a damp towel as you did the rising bowl, and allow the loaves to rise again until they double in bulk. This should take a little less time than the first rising, perhaps an hour or so.

After 45 minutes, preheat the oven to 375 degrees. When the loaves have finished rising, uncover them, and bake them for about 40 to 45 minutes, until they are a warm brown color and sound hollow when you tap on them. Remove the hot loaves from the pans, and let them cool on racks.

Makes 2 loaves.






22 March 2009

Maple Musings (and Maple Glazed Carrots!)


Pardon me if I wax slightly sappy in this post. I’m talking about maple syrup so a little sap doesn’t seem inappropriate.

I like to think of cooking as a folk science. The science part is indisputable. Most cooking tasks—whisking, boiling, baking—are simply applied chemistry. We read books to help us figure out just the right formulas to create using our culinary versions of test tubes. Sometimes we experience a scientific breakthrough and discover a new formula in the kitchen.

Nevertheless, many of our most beloved formulas for cooking have been handed down to us, like a family story or a favorite lullaby. Perhaps the best analogy is a folk song.

My neighbor, composer Alice Parker, uses this analogy a lot. She points out that we don’t know who wrote a song like “Wayfaring Stranger.” In fact, the very definition of a folk song is that the composer and lyricist are anonymous. A song like this belongs to all of us, and we re-compose it every time we sing it.

(A choir director for whom I once sang that very song at a Lenten service thought I re-composed it a little too much, in fact, but I stuck to my guns and my version of the melody.)

Folk songs cannot be copyrighted, although arrangements of them can. Similarly, it is impossible to copyright a list of ingredients, but one can copyright the words one uses in the directions for a recipe. We don’t value folk songs or recipes any the less because they are not “original.”

In fact, we often value them more because they have sprung up in different places and been modified as they go from singer to singer, cook to cook. We certainly value not having to come up with something completely new every time we get out the guitar or the saucepan.

Musical tradition and culinary tradition are miracles we celebrate everyday.

At this time of year I’m particularly grateful for the tradition of boiling down the sap of sugar maples. Just as it’s hopeless to pinpoint the very first person who ever opened his or her mouth and sang “I’m just a poor wayfaring stranger” (or “I am a poor wayfaring stranger” or any other version of this lyric) it’s impossible to figure out who first made maple syrup.

We assume it was a Native American since the original residents of New England were sweetening their food with maple long before Europeans arrived. Nevertheless, it’s hard to imagine how the first maple syrup came to be made. Did someone accidentally poke a hole in a tree that was near a cooking pot and then notice that the resultant food tasted extra sweet? We’ll never know.

I do know that my neighbors who have sugarhouses do what they do in large part because it is part of the history of their families and of this region.

I’m lucky to live in a place where a folk food tradition like maple still exists–where people are willing to do the hard work necessary to nurture the trees, maintain the sap lines, and boil (and boil and boil and boil) the sap. And I treasure the liquid amber they produce.

Here is another recipe that celebrates that tradition and the diversity of dishes one can make with New England’s folky, sappy mud-season staple.



Maple Glazed Carrots

I love stretching the uses of maple syrup beyond breakfast and dessert. These carrots get a lot of sweetness out of just a little syrup. (And they’re easy!) Feel free to use whole cut-up carrots instead of baby ones if you like. If you want to add to the feast of flavors, add a little minced fresh ginger to the maple mixture—or toss some fresh dill on top of the carrots when you serve them. I think the dish is pretty terrific as is.

Ingredients:

28 baby carrots
2 tablespoons maple syrup
2 tablespoons sweet butter

Instructions:

Bring the baby carrots to a boil in a pot of lightly salted water. Boil them until they are ALMOST done. (This won’t take very long.) Put 2 tablespoons of the water in which they boiled in a small sauté pan. Drain the carrots, discarding the remaining water, and rinse them in cold water to stop them from cooking any longer.

To the 2 tablespoons water add the maple syrup and butter. Heat this mixture until the butter melts. Add the carrots and toss them in the liquid. Continue to cook over medium-low heat, covered but tossing frequently, until the liquid almost evaporates (about 5 to 10 minutes). Serve immediately. Serves 4.



03 March 2009

Tinky Goes Yankee

I don’t usually put posts on my blog that merely link to other web sites, but today I’m making an exception. The new issue of Yankee magazine is now OUT—and it features an article on me, Tinky Weisblat. I’m the star of the March/April “Best Cook in Town” feature by veteran Yankee writer Edie Clark.

Edie called last fall just before the semi-final rounds of my annual Pudding Hollow Pudding Contest. She needed to interview someone THAT WEEK and hoped it could be I, preparing an original pudding recipe. I was a little taken aback since I had to test seven other puddings for the semi-finals, but I love being famous. So of course I said yes and scrambled together a recipe for something called Cozy Apple Pudding.

We had a lovely visit despite the chaos. One of Edie’s greatest assets as a reporter is that she seems like an old friend the minute she walks in the door. She worked and chatted with my mother and me as we cooked and even sat through a rehearsal of my signature song for the Pudding Contest, “Find Me a Man I Can Cook For” by my neighbor Alice Parker. Of course, Alice joined us for pudding.

I encourage you to run right out and buy an issue of Yankee. In it you’ll find Edie’s interview with me; my apple pudding recipe (made with apples plucked from the tree in my front yard!); and the recipe for one of my favorite entries in the Pudding Contest, Greek Eggplant Pudding by Nancy Argeris.

If you must read the article right away, you may look at it online, but I think I look a little thinner in the print version so naturally I want to steer you toward it!

Besides, it’s a great magazine with terrific taste in cooks…….

21 February 2009

A King Cake for Mardi Gras


Mardi Gras is a time of taking chances—so I decided to try once more to make a King Cake. Readers of this blog may recall that I tried making one at Epiphany and was less than thrilled with the result. My mother taught me to persevere, however, and luckily King Cakes are eaten in Louisiana from Epiphany straight through to the beginning of Lent. I sifted through many different recipes identifying the cake elements that most appealed to me and went to work.

I’m actually very happy with my new cake, although the filling gushed into the middle so I didn’t end up with the classic ring. Mine was more of a round blob. Nevertheless, it puffed up beautifully and tasted like a sweet, creamy coffee cake.

Like the previous King Cake, it concealed a quarter (more authentic bakers would use a bean or a toy Baby Jesus) within its yeasty folds. The person who found the quarter in his or her cake was crowned King or Queen for the Day.

So—from my house to yours—here is a King Cake recipe. The biggest trick is to take your time; since it uses yeast this cake can’t be rushed. It’s a big cake so you’ll help your sanity and your waistline if you have young eaters in the house. Feel free to cheat a little and ensure that one of them gets to wear the crown! As you can see from the picture below that’s what we did at our house.

(Don’t tell Michael!)

Le Roi du Mardi Gras

Mardi Gras King Cake

Ingredients:

for the cake:

2 packets yeast (do not use instant)
2 teaspoons sugar plus 1/2 cup sugar later
4 to 5 cups flour
1 teaspoon nutmeg
2 teaspoons salt
the zest from 1 lemon (save the lemon to make juice for the glaze)
1/2 cup lukewarm milk
5 egg yolks (you will not need the whites)
3/4 cup (1-1/2 sticks) sweet butter at room temperature

for the filling:

1 8-ounce package cream cheese, at room temperature
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/4 cup sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 tablespoon flour

for the glaze:

2 cups confectioner’s sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
the juice of 1 lemon
a little water if needed
food coloring as needed

Instructions:

Place the yeast and the 2 teaspoons sugar in a small bowl. Cover them with lukewarm water, and allow the yeast to proof for 10 minutes.

In a large mixing bowl combine 3-1/2 cups of the flour, 1/2 cup sugar, the nutmeg, the salt, and the lemon zest. Stir them together thoroughly (I like to use a whisk for this).

Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients, and pour in the yeast mixture and warm milk. Stir in the egg yolks, and combine the mixture thoroughly.

When the batter is smooth, beat in the butter, 1 tablespoon at a time. (This takes a little while but eventually works.) Place the dough on a floured board, and knead it, adding more flour as needed. Your dough may end up slightly sticky but should not stick to the board.

Knead the dough until it feels smooth; then knead it for 10 minutes more. Don’t be discouraged. This kneading is what gives the final product its wonderful puffiness.

Place the dough in a buttered bowl, cover it with a damp cloth, and allow it to rise until it doubles in bulk. This will take at least 1-1/2 hours and perhaps more.

When the dough has risen, punch it down. Using your fingers, pat and stretch the dough to shape it into a long, short rectangle, at least 24 inches long and 6 to 8 inches wide. Let the dough rest while you beat together the ingredients for the filling.

If you want to, place a quarter or a bean in the middle of the dough. Gently spoon the filling down the center of the strip of dough. Fold the edges up over the filling to form a cylinder that encases the dough. Pinch the edges together to seal the filling as well as you can. Your seams don’t have to be perfect; they will be hidden by the glaze.

Pinch the ends of the cylinder together to form a ring, and place it on a silicone- or parchment-covered baking sheet. Let it rise, covered, until it becomes puffy, about an hour. Preheat the oven to 375.

Bake the King Cake for 25 to 35 minutes, until it is golden brown. Remove it from the oven, and allow it to cool completely.

For the glaze: beat together the sugar, vanilla, and lemon juice, adding a bit of water if needed to make the glaze thick yet pourable. Divide the glaze in three, and color the three glazes purple, green, and gold. Drizzle them artistically over your cake.

Serves at least 12.



Laissez les bons temps rouler!