Never one to jump on the latest baking trend, you can imagine my surprise when I found myself unable to shake the concept of engineering a croquembouche.  Let’s start by answering the question, what is a croquembouche.  It’s essentially a tower of profiteroles glued together with caramel, often drizzled in chocolate, spun sugar, or all manner of fancy schmancy décor.  Not my type of thing. I like contemporary solid lines, bold colors, no frills.  So why can’t I get the damn thing out of my head? I’ve been making pate au choux with which to turn into profiteroles all summer, so I suppose architecting the croquembouche was the next inevitable step.  The problem is that I didn’t fully execute my vision since I only baked a measly 21 pate au choux, and what kind of tower can you really construct with only 21 building blocks?  So what that means is that this project is incomplete and must be revisited soon, at a time when I can whip up at least twice that many and construct my dream Barbie mansion from tiny pastry balls.

Knowing myself and my proclivity to take a perfectly good, classic thing and turn it all akimbo, I figured a classic croquembouche just wouldn’t do.  This is when I remembered seeing a method for turning foie gras into Chantilly crème recently.  Why not do semi-savory choux and fill them with goosey-oozy liver-y goodness then drizzle the whole thing in maple-balsamic reduction made to look like chocolate syrup? Yes, genius. Pure, diabolical, evil genius.  I considered not telling my lucky-number-13 guests that they would in fact be masticating goose livers rather than benign cream, but a vegetarian in our midst guilted me into full-disclosure.  I needn’t have bothered warning people, it seems. They well and truly were little bites of The Rapture. People popped them like it was 1974 and they were disco queens slamming back ‘ludes, so I’m pretty sure they needed no introduction after all.

To put the whole thing together I started with a good, sturdy batch of pate au choux.  Whilst my piped lovelies were puffing up in the oven, I contemplated the Foie Chantilly.  I did a bunch of internet research on how to fluff up the foie, and settled on mixing it with heated cream in a food processor for a few moments to sufficiently blend it. Then I passed it through a sieve into a mixing bowl over ice and proceeded to hand whisk it to stiff peaks.  In terms of quantity, for five ounces of foie, I used ¾ c heavy cream, a pinch of salt, and two tablespoons of superfine or caster sugar.  I heated the cream, sugar, and salt together in a heavy saucepan whilst I chopped the foie into ½” cubes and set reserved them in the food processor. Working quickly, once the cream was just nearing the boiling point, I added it to the foie and whirred it for ten seconds. I immediately passed it through the sieve and into the waiting chilled mixing bowl. It’s important to get it cool quickly so that it will whip properly.  I bet a pacojet would have been a really cool toy to employ for the whipping process, but I’ve got an official moratorium on kitchen gadgets here in the Salty Seattle household thanks to my evil husbandJ Once I whipped and chilled my cream and the pate au choux were cool, I piped each pastry full of a sufficient amount of choux using a star tip.  At this point I had savory profiteroles awaiting their drizzled fate.

For the sauce, I simply reduced equal parts balsamic and maple syrup in a small saucepan until it reached the consistency of thick molasses.  I then cooled it and dipped the butt ends of the profiteroles in the syrup to use as a binding agent.  I stacked a meager tower, though mark my words, this is only the beginning. My experimenting is far from finito.  In the meantime, enjoy this mini-tower knowing that I’ve created a monster in myself and I likely won’t stop until I construct a croquembouche the size of Frankenstein. And they make a movie about it.

I’m applying for a patent on this one. It is going to be very difficult to describe the extraordinary nature of this dish without employing the use of exuberant expletives, but I will try.  It all started with a strawberry picking and tasting adventure a mere one hour from Seattle and yet worlds away.  As my city-slicking Mercedes rolled through the gentle flats of the Skagit Valley, signs encouraged drivers to “slow down and follow your nose” which I did with aplomb.  The fertile flats of Skagit produce some of the finest grown goods in Washington, and stellar strawberries are no exception. Our small group had the great pleasure to tour and visit Skagit Sun berries as well as listen to the insightful musings of Farmer Don on the history of his berries and cucumbers (that sentence was not meant to sound dirty, but upon rereading it, I suppose it could be misconstrued).

Photo courtesy of Luuvu Hoang

We participated in a blind tasting of eight varieties of strawberries; I had no idea there would be such a vast difference in flavor.  In the end, I preferred two varieties: Shuksan and Hood. Shuksan berries are sweet and red throughout, with uniform flesh, a short shelf-life and unbeatable versatility in terms of complementing sweet and savory dishes as well as being great fresh or cooked.  The Hoods were piquant and almost candy-like in flavor with a thorough, intense sweetness that lingered on the palate for ages.  It is the height of Shuksan season right now, so get them while you can. Farmer Don was kind enough to let us pick our own flats of Shuksans so my mental wheels got to turning whilst we were out there under the haze-laced sun plucking away.  I love jams and jellies as much as anyone, but I was not about to preserve these precious plumpies for posterity.  I decided on both a sweet and a savory application, and somehow the divine inspiration of the strawberry gods put the idea of chocolate pasta into my head (well that and a conversation with my friend Luuvu).

When I got home, I promptly made a custard of Shuksans and lavender that would become ice cream the next day.  I also whipped up a crema pasticcera (pastry cream) infused with lavender with which to fill the chocolate pasta sheets.  The next day, the real work began.  {INSERT TERRIBLE CONFESSION HERE} Regular readers of my blog will know that I’m a primadonna pasta purist. I do not crank out sheets of pasta, I gently roll them with an old wooden pin, then cut whatever pasta I’m forming using a pastry cutter.  As far as tools go, I’ve always been happy (to make pasta 3+ times a week) with my pin, cutter and a glass of wine.  Well, the universe conspired and produced a gift certificate and a HUGE sale I couldn’t refuse, so long story short, I’m now the proud recipient of a pasta attachment for the Kitchenaid.  This chocolate pasta is the second I’ve made with it, and the most unfortunate part is that I no longer seem to need the glass of wine while pasta-making. You see, the wine acts as a thirst-quencher between rolls, but when a machine takes all the work away, you no longer require parch-abatement.  I suppose the pasta machine will help cure my excessive wino-ism, but it has also taken a little piece of my soul along with it.  I’m vowing to hand-roll at least once a week- we will see how it goes.

For the pasta, I made a typical dough of flour and eggs, to which I added Dutched cocoa and a touch of sugar.  I was worried about the consistency, but it rolled out beautifully and crimped together perfectly to form round discs filled with pastry cream.  I made the pasta around noon and did not boil them until 9pm, so they sat on a parchment-lined sheetpan for many hours with no refrigeration. There were no ill-effects of this, as they boiled up nicely and the texture was perfect.  Since my pasta would not be complete without a sauce, I boiled down Shuksans into a compote with butter, sugar and Grand Marnier.  I put it through a sieve to remove the seeds, then drizzled the sauce over intermittent rounds of ravioli and scoops of ice cream.  This is the part where I would use some holy s3*TTTT expletives to describe the wow-factor of all the complementary flavors and textures in this dish, but I promised not to, so I’m going to have to go stuff my gullet full of sweet sweet bliss aka chocolate ravioli and bid my adieu to you. Until next time, keep it super real out there in the spectacular sunshine.

Ever tasted sorghum? Know what it is? It’s made from extracting syrup from stalks of sorghum grass, which incidentally is one of the five top cereal grains in the world along with wheat, oats, corn and barley.  To me, it’s kind of like a cross between molasses and something malted with maybe a tinge of maple thrown in for fun.  It’s magnificent, but a really specific sweetener. You want to know what you’re pairing it with before you go willy nilly drizzling it all over someone’s waffles.  I love to use it for bacon-curing in place of maple just to spice things up. I’ve been dreaming about it in ice cream for quite some time, but couldn’t quite come up with the right combo- until now. I was walking through the garden with my shears on the hunt for some oregano when I noticed my culinary lavender was blooming earlier than usual this year.

Coincidentally, I’ve been dreaming of lavender ice cream all winter long, so I trained my shears on the lavender and promptly forgot the oregano I was originally after.  I brought in the lavender and laboriously snipped up the buds- I think a mere quarter cup took me ten minutes! Then I steeped it in warmed milk for an hour while I consulted David Lebovitz’ Perfect Scoop for an idea springboard.

I changed things up quite a bit from his suggested lavender recipe, not because he isn’t the master, I love his original but wanted to add a new dimension. I also never think he adds enough eggs. I like my custard so creamy and thick it holds up even when it melts a little, so I adjust accordingly.  Once I had swirled in lavender-laced sorghum and set my custard to chill, I dreamed up a shortbread peppered with lavender and mint with which to lap up the ice cream.  The shortbreads came out tasting surprisingly similar to Mexican wedding cookies, an observation I’ve never made in such a biscuit.

I served the finished dessert just as the clouds broke and the sun who has been mighty elusive this spring graced us with a few moments of his body heat.  It was perfect timing, having a little bit of pretend summer by which to eat real, really good ice cream.  I’ve made a little pact with myself that I won’t make any more ice cream until summer officially rears her hot head, so if anyone has any clout with the weather gods, please make it happen- I’m already jonesing for gelato.

For several years I have had the desire to host a salt-tasting party, I simply lacked the impetus. Until now.  You see, I’ve always felt the salty soiree should have serendipitous timing all around, and that wasn’t possible in days gone by.  For me, everything had to be essential, perfect, balanced.  The food, the guests, the salts, the level of engagement- the whole shebang.  When I finally decided a few months ago that the signs were looking auspicious to host the party, it was a right nice feeling. Right nice indeed, because I’ve been stewing over the concept for so long, there really wasn’t much to settle on.  Except for incorporating some new obsessions in terms of food (can you say sous vide?) and making sure the guest list didn’t go entirely jabberwocky with too many tasters and not enough salt, all the pre-planning was a cinch.

I planned a from-scratch menu deliberately devoid of salt to encourage tasting and pairing. Notables included sous vide custard duck eggs, sliced heirloom tomatoes, no-knead baguettes by Patrick aka best breadbaker in the world, homemade cottage cheese, homemade burrata, a slew of Italian cheeses including a three-milk Robiola and Bra Tenero, jicama, fava beans and honey, sous vide potatoes and beets, and edamame.  Whew, if that wasn’t a salt-less mouthful I don’t know what would be.  I did not forget the dessert category, which consisted of maple caramels, chocolate pavé and triple chocolate truffle tart by Patrick, and four types of ice cream: rhubarb crème fraiche, coffee hazelnut, quadruple chocolate and goat yoghurt maple.

Since many members of the Seattle fooderati scene showed for the 70+ person party, there were countless other notable culinary creations from the likes of Michael Natkin, the man behind Herbivoracious, Jenny Richards of Purplehousedirt, Lorna Yee from The Cookbook Chronicles,  Marc Schermerhorn of the infamous @marcseattle twitter feed, Keren Brown aka Frantic Foodie, and many more.  The lovely and talented Jeanne Sauvage of Fourchickens, brought me a carton of homegrown eggs that I’ve been coddling as though they were babies; I want chickens and ducks so badly I can taste them, but that’s a story for another time.

For the tasting itself, I lined my dining table with over 60 empty vessels and assigned each one a corresponding number.  We created a master list on the Ipad that contained each number, then, when attendees brought salt, they simply chose a vessel, told us the number, and we catalogued each salt into the secret master list.  This way the tasting was truly blind.  I raided my own global collection of salt and filled roughly twenty of the vessels, and once all the guests had proffered their hand-selected salts, we had 63 samples.  I established four categories for the tasting: Best Overall Tasting Salt, Best Blended Salt, Best Pairing-Savory, and Best Pairing-Sweet.  My graphic designer neighbor Cyndy created ballots so folks could cast their votes, and I’ve just tallied the results, which are molto interessante indeed.

Repurposed Aarnio Bubble Chair as Wine Chiller

Before I get to that I want to mention some of the notable salts on display that evening, representing six continents.  Janna Wemmer from Secret Stash Salts brought a dizzying array of her expertly-blended salts, including bloody mary salt, smoked chipotle, and lavender rosemary to name a few.  She is a locally-focused artisan producer of the finest blended salt available in the Pacific Northwest, and her salts should be included in any representational goodie bag of local products.  Local foodie-about-town Traca Savadogo was able to get Mark and Marjorie Fuller of famed restaurant Spring Hill to donate some of Mark’s ancestral Hawaiian red clay sea salt, aged 25 years,  which was one I made sure to sneak a reserve of for later use.  Apparently the aging process sweetens the deal, and I mean that in a literal sense.  The kind folks over at Marx Foods heard about the tasting and donated some perfectly structured Portugese Flor de Sal for our tasting pleasure. I’ve been finishing with this one for a few weeks and am very happy with the crystal structure and depth of character.

Every party is bound to have one jester, and this soiree was not immune.  Our non-food-obsessed neighbor thought it would be quite funny to cart in a salt-lick, which he did with much pride to much snickering.  We had to give it a fair tasting, so we chipped some off the old block and put it in a vessel, much to the chagrin of the poor folks who tasted it.  Oddly, it did receive one vote; some kind soul nominated it in the savory pairing category for its complementary taste with radishes.  Many of the salts travelled here from around the globe, but only a few did so expressly to be tasted at the party.  One such salt was a Waddenzout brought all the way from Amsterdam by Robert and Patrick. I sure hope that one didn’t have any extra Amsterdam-additives in it, if you know what I mean.  Another well-travelled salt came from my amazing friend Emily (Happy Birthday, Baby) who sent over some Korean Bamboo salt from Ulsan, where she is teaching for the year.  Lily and Rodney brought forth a slew of salts from Vancouver BC made by Edible Canada.  Of the twenty or so salts I personally contributed, besides my homemade salt, many of them came from the Portland-based salt boutique The Meadow.  If you think of the most esoteric salt in all the lands and are scratching your head as to where to find it, chances are you’ll find it at The Meadow, which is my go-to salt destination, both online and in the flesh.

Alright, enough of me waxing lyrical about one of the greatest substances on earth- let’s see the results.  The winner in the best overall finishing salt category is the timeless classic, Maldon Sea Salt. It’s crystal structure alone is a thing of marvel; I really believe this salt should be one of the wonders of the world because it comes in the form of little dissolving pyramids. I love other salts equally for different things, but I am not surprised that Maldon unanimously won the grand prize.  There were four salts tied for second place in this category: Trapani Sea Salt, my own sea salt, Secret Stash Salt’s Lavendar Rosemary, and Pangasinan Star.

The winner of best blended salt goes to Black Truffle Sea Salt.  A very close second goes to Secret Stash Salt’s Lavender Rosemary Salt.  Tied for third place here are Evergreen Edible Salt and Wreck Beach Edible Salt.  Best Pairing-Sweet has three salts tied for first place. They are: Murray River Pink Salt, Maldon Sea Salt, and Tahitian Vanilla Salt, all being paired with caramels. In fact, caramels were the favored vehicle with which to sweetly taste salt.  The trickiest category was Best Pairing-Savory.  I think it’s because there was so much food it was difficult to get consistency.  Five salts tied for first place in this category. They are: The Drive Edible on heirloom tomatoes, Tahitian Vanilla on Eggs (maybe these voters had a few glasses of wine?), Sale alle Erbe delle Mar Lunghe (salt with herbs from the long sea) on Patrick’s bread, Haleakala Ruby on heirloom tomatoes, and Murray River on mozzarella and edamame.

these glasses did not stay empty for long

Alright, this was a bloody long-winded post, so I’m going to wrap it up.  It is my goal to showcase the winners in all categories and do some refined tasting with them in a more controlled environment. I’d like to perfect some pairings and suss out which qualities about each of the winning salts made it memorable for tasters.  Expect to see more salt in this space soon, but then, you probably already knew that.  Have a salt-sational day!

all the salts- the morning after

PS- special thanks to Lisa Page Ramey for providing some of the mid-party action shots; there was a lot going on and our camera languished in the corner for much of the evening.

I’ve been on a frozen, sweet kick lately in my posts, but then, that’s what springtime is all about. Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll see the return of pasta and duck eggs very soon.  I am a lucky girl. Imagine stumbling upon a ripe, succulent basket of rambutans in Seattle in May. It happened to me a few days back and for that I am grateful. What, say you, is a rambutan? It’s a tropical fruit like a lychee that is all things gorgeous wrapped into one spherical, brilliant package.  I imagine you can guess what I did with said fruits if you know me at all by now. Yes, I made gelato. And it tasted like a little scoop of tropical paradise. As it should. 

I probably sing the praises of Uwajimaya market in Seattle entirely too much on this blog, but I can’t help it. It’s like a giant cornucopia of amazing ingredients with which to endlessly experiment.  I don’t often have the chance to bite into the spiky splendoriffic rambutans, so when I do I really maximize my mouthful, if you know what I mean. 

Uwajimaya gets little shipments of precious produce in frequently. You never know what you will find.  More often than not you find something utterly addictive, yet upon returning to the store, alas, it is no more.  Ah well, the name of the culinary game is versatility, and this rambutan gelato speaks volumes to that. 

It almost tastes grape-like, if the grapes were in their especially succulent, very raw state. No amount of fermenting or cooking would benefit the rambutans in gelato, so I made sure to keep them in merely a cold yet pureed form.  Texture is everything when it comes to frozen custard, and this fairly safe rendition of a classic custard ratio does not disappoint.  In the words of Yo Gabba Gabba (you will get this reference if you are the parent of a small child) “Try it. You’ll like it.” 

Rambutan Gelato

• 16 rambutans,  shelled and pitted
• 2 c milk
• 3 egg yolks
• ½ c sugar
• Salt- pinch
• 1 tsp vanilla

 Blend rambutan’s with ¾ c milk.  Place blended mixture in a mixing bowl with a fine mesh strainer set over the top.  In a medium saucepan warm the remaining milk with the sugar and salt. Once it’s nearly boiling, quickly whisk it into the waiting egg yolks and transfer the mixture back into the saucepan, whisking all the while. 

Stir constantly until the custard thickens enough to coat the back of your spoon. Pour through the strainer into the rambutan mixture, add vanilla, and chill over an ice bath stirring occasionally. 

 Chill custard in the refrigerator thoroughly before churning into ice cream/gelato following your ice cream maker’s instructions.

 

When you hear the word colostrum, does it conjure a sexy image, or what? Probably half of you haven’t heard the word before and maybe think it sounds a tad clinical. The rest of you have probably had a child, so you know that colostrum is the stuff that oozes out of your breasts before the milk fully comes in.  What in the hell does this have to do with ice cream? Well, cows produce colostrums during calving season too. Technically the first few milkings of a mama cow after her calf has been born are considered colostrum. It’s easy to tell the difference between colostrum and milk, if only from the hue. Colostrum is yellow-orange, and significantly thicker than plain milk. It is so thick, in fact, that it makes a mean custard, and you don’t even have to add eggs.  Its popularity is growing in this country as a health food product, where it’s typically sold in powdered form.  It is said to contain antioxidants and aid in athletic performance as well as prevent illness, though the research seems to be somewhat scant on the subject. 

In British English colostrum is colloquially referred to as “beestings” and a quick online search will reveal a sizable lot of funky old colostrum recipes that date back to the mid 20^th century.  They all sounded fun and quaint, but I wanted to up the ante a touch with my coveted colostrum, so immediately I thought ice cream.  You may be wondering where in the hell I managed to find such a rare thing in its fresh, natural state.  We are blessed in Western Washington to have a slew of artisanal farmers, ranchers and producers who care about providing local, organic foodstuffs to regional consumers. I love that the supply line is utterly transparent in these instances, and in most cases consumers are welcome to visit the farms directly.  If a direct visit is too much of a chore, do not fear.  The ample daily farmer’s markets around the Puget Sound showcase wares from many of these purveyors, including those from Sea Breeze Farm.  I gratefully brought home some Sea Breeze colostrum, happy that a mama cow had birthed a baby the night before so I could reap the reward. 

Since I’ve never played with the consistency of colostrum I chose to run a few experiments in ice cream making.  The recipe printed below was the clear winner, so my time spent is your gain, should you ever wish to play with some colostrum.  I added egg yolks to one version, but that was just ridiculous as the colostrum thickens so much on its own that no added egg is necessary. I also played with a combination of milk or cream for the additional liquid element, and found that (unsurprisingly) cream gave a better texture and richer flavor.  The final ice cream produced is smooth, unctuous, and rich in a way typical ice cream is not. Perhaps it’s a touch thicker and less airy, but the softness makes up for any lack of lightness. 

I rarely make vanilla ice cream. Instead I go for flavors that are more fun to experiment with like the time I made this frozen BLT, or my infamous garlic chocolate gelato.  Because I wanted to note the flavor of the actual colostrum, however, I felt vanilla was an apt choice.  It’s plenty lovely all on its own, but when you can drench ice cream in espresso, why wouldn’t you? This is called an “affogato” in Italian, which means “drowned.”  It’s a right nice way to drown your sorrows at the end of a long spring day, no?  Plus think of all the added health benefits you’re getting from the colostrum! I’d say this is a dessert fit to be eaten regularly if it weren’t for the scarce availability of colostrum. Nevertheless, if you can hunt some down, check this out, you’ll be glad you did. 

Vanilla Bean Colostrum Ice Cream

• 1 Pint colostrum
• ¾ c sugar
• Pinch salt
• 1 Vanilla bean- halved lengthwise, seeds urged out using a paring knife
• 1 c heavy cream
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Place colostrum, sugar, salt and vanilla bean seeds and pod in a medium saucepan.  Bring to a very low boil, immediately remove from heat, cover and let vanilla infuse for ½ hour. 

Meanwhile place the remaining cup of heavy cream in a medium bowl set over an ice bath.  Place a fine-mesh strainer on top. 

After half an hour, slowly reheat colostrum custard, stirring constantly to dissolve and marry all ingredients. Once you reach boiling point, remove from heat and pour through the strainer into the chilled cream.  Add the vanilla extract and vanilla beans, stir, and chill thoroughly before churning by following the instructions on your ice cream maker.  (when you churn, remove the vanilla beans)

To turn this into an affogato, simply drench a scoop or two of ice cream in a shot of fine espresso.  If you want to make an “affogato corretto,” which means affogato corrected, simply add a shot of alcohol to the dessert in addition to the espresso.  Italians will use grappa or whiskey typically, but rum will also work well with this dessert.

I guess people really like videos.  Looking at the analytics for my blog proved vewy vewy interesting indeed, after last week’s posting involving me, some risotto cakes and a video camera.  I hate to disappoint, so the Salty Seattle kitchen is back this week bringing you danger, excitement and mile-a-minute thrills.  Or just me being silly in the kitchen making grapes rolled in pistachio dust, you be the judge.  This is one of my favorite party appetizers because it’s such a simple make-ahead dish, and I can assure you, these grapeys fly off the platter. 

Because they are completely coated in a pistachio-mint-cream cheese mixture, people can’t tell they’re grapes.  Folks assume they’re little cheese balls or something, which makes it really fun to watch their faces register sweet juiciness when they take a bite.  Muscat grapes are at the height of freshness right now and they are the perfect grape for this, or pretty much any uva-endeavors you wish to undertake.  That being said, you can make this dish year-round with virtually any grape you get your hands on, though consider the seed factor; you may wish to go seedless. I’m pretty excited to make this with some fat Washington merlot grapes come autumn.  The only other variable ingredient is the mint.  If you live in Seattle or thereabouts, chances are you’ve got it growing by the bucketful somewhere in your yard, like it or not.  That is the happy predicament I am in for about three seasons a year, so I’m always trying to come up with different ways to sneak it in dishes.  Mashing it into the cream cheese adds an unexpected little hint of lightness that is necessary when coating a grape with heavier ingredients like cream cheese and pistachios. 

Enough of my preamble- here is the video. Don’t miss the blooper reel at the end- I think an F-bomb may have accidentally slipped its way in there.

By the way, all this video madness is for Paula Deen and Philadelphia Cream Cheese’s eight week long recipe contest. You can check it out here if you’re interested.

Wow- over two weeks without a post. Boy did I ever miss you lovely people? I was off on a crazy top-secret adventure that will reveal itself very soon. I hate secrets, so I should probably just stop talking about it and get to the meat of this post, I just wanted to share exactly how much I wanted to be here blogging, and to let you know in no uncertain terms that my absence was in no way self-imposed.  When I first started blogging and I would read other bloggers’ posts about how supportive and amazing the blogging community was I thought it was a bunch of cheesy drivel.  Now, after two weeks away, I realize just how much I depend on this strange connection to people I’ve never met, but seemingly I have more in common with than folks I’ve known since infancy.  I’m happy to be back and I hope you enjoy the Tim Tam Slam as much as I did. 

Australians have damn good taste in cookies! Or do they call them biscuits down under? Maybe they have some hybrid word for it I haven’t yet heard, like biscookies or cookscuits.  I’m going to go with biscookies. I like the ring to it.  Plus it doesn’t sound so fattening that way. How could something that sounds so cute be fattening? Yup, going with biscookies. That way I can eat like 20 and not worry about the excessive indulgence- yes! Well anyway, this post is all about the best little biscookies to come out of Australia, swim across several seas and land in my lap.

 I discovered Tim Tams completely serendipitously, which is how I can really tell we are meant to be together for life.  I was in the grocery store the other day talking to one of my best friend’s on the phone while I shopped for a gift. What was I doing shopping for a gift in the supermarket, you ask? Well it was a gift for some foodie friends of mine, one of whom lives in Canada and has the lovely blog www.eatlivetravelwrite.com while the other lives in Australia and can be found at http://jeroxie.com/addiction/We were participating in an exchange, basically mailing off food items that would be incredibly common where we lived, but not so common where we were shipping them off to.

 I was on the phone with Lily because she had just gotten back from Australia the week before and I wanted to run my selections by her to ensure that they would indeed be unavailable in Oz.  Well truth be told she wasn’t much help because she just kept raving on and on about how great everything is in Australia and how they have this and that and all these glorious things we doltish Americans blindly go without.  She focused especially on these nuggets of caramelly-chocolately goodness called Tim Tams.  I happened to be walking down the cookie aisle and I thought I would take a quick peek to see if perhaps they had actually made it here without her knowledge.  You see she lives in the backwoods middle of nowhere and doesn’t get out much, so I figured cosmopolitan Seattle (ha!) might have a leg up on tree-ville snowland. Sure enough, staring back at me from a tucked away corner of the cookie aisle was a gleaming box of Tim Tams.  Lily was outraged that I had direct access to such lovely biscookies, but I offered to mail her some so I think she’ll be alright. 

I took them home and managed to leave them in the cupboard and forget about them for roughly one week.  I had a glut of homemade ice cream to get through, plus early spring is more of a savory time for me and I don’t crave a ton of sweets. That all changed when I opened the damned package of Tim Tams.  I typically hate pre-packaged snacks, but these little monsters are “open the package and eat the whole thing in one sitting” good!  I had picked up two packages thinking I’d mail one to Lily, but alas, that never happened since they all ended up in my tummy.  It’s quite sad, really, I’m training for a half marathon so I go out and run five miles most days, but I come home and undo all that hard work with one whiff of Tim Tams.  If you have never tried them, I caution you not to, or at least if you do, don’t hold me responsible.  This is not the attitude I’m adopting toward my immediate friends.  I’m trying to infect Seattle at-large with a Tim Tam addiction as big as my own, so whenever a new person walks through my front door, I practically shove a Tim Tam straight down their throat.  I’ve made converts by the dozen- it’s getting dangerous. 

Lily told me about this amazing thing called a Tim Tam Slam.  Basically you bite off each end of the Tim Tam then use it as a straw to ingest a shot of espresso. Or maybe coffee, but I steadfastly refuse to believe people drink that watered-down drivel, so espresso it is in my mind.  I’m not much for coffee beans in any form factor, truth be told, but I have been meaning to get around to espresso ice cream, and the Tim Tam Slam gave me a way to make it all the more palatable.  I made my espresso ice cream which definitely passed the paddle-licking good test all on its own according to all three members of my household.  Then I made it even better by churning in a bunch of Tim Tams a la frozen Tim Tam Slam.  I had eight people for dinner that night and they all went back for seconds on the Tim Tam Slam! This from a group of gay men who rarely eat and tend to watch their figures more than I do.  “Oh I don’t eat dessert” quickly gave way to moans of pleasure as we all savored the genius of those clever Australians.   Well, and the genius of me too, since I came up with the whole frozen twist, not to toot my own horn or anything since I’m sure it’s been done before, though pretty good for an American, right? Ok, I’m going to sneak downstairs and steal a Tim Tam from the locked away secret stash before dinner.  Please don’t tell anyone, ok?

Chiles en nogada is a dish that strikes fear in the hearts of many a chef.  It’s a multi-day affair replete with dozens of steps deceptive in their seeming simplicity.  You might think peeling chilies is a relatively straightforward affair, but if you consider that you first must roast them, then sweat them, then peel them and finally concoct a piloncillo mixture in which to soak them for 24 hours suddenly straightforward is not the word you’re looking for.  There is a reason chiles en nogada is typically served only once a year on the day of Mexican independence- it truly is a labor of love.  Of course there is also the fact that there is really only a very short window of time during which all the myriad ingredients for the dish are in season- a crazy culinary serendipity when you think about it. 

The walnuts that comprise the majority of the nogada sauce, for instance, must absolutely be fresh in shell and recently harvested, according to most experts on the dish.  The reason for this is that you need to be able to peel them as the peeling imparts a bitter taste on the sauce, and you won’t have a chance in hell if you’re using older walnuts.  I have heard many a United States-based Nogada chef lament the difficulty of peeling the walnuts, no matter how fresh, and I’ve recently heard tell that it’s because we have a different, harder species of walnut less prone to peeling.  I unwittingly came across something of a solution to the bitter peel problem with nogada.  Try as I might, even with a mixture of half pecans (softer skin) and half walnuts, to peel the little suckers, I just couldn’t remove the majority of the peel before blending it with the milk and cream to compose the sauce.  I decided to pass it through a fine-mesh strainer to achieve a smoother texture and lo and behold, the vast majority of the peel would not pass through the strainer, leaving me with a creamy sauce pure as the driven snow.  Now all this complicated food talk makes me hungry. Take a gander at the quail egg, bacon, mini-apple appetizer I needed to serve to stave off my guests’ longings for the nogada:

Walnuts are only one of the many perishable ingredients in the dish.  You must track down fresh peaches, plantains, apples, pomegranates and pasilla peppers too.  I used frozen peaches because in February in Seattle there is simply no hope for a decent peach.  Yes, February is an odd choice to make chiles en nogada, but I’ve been meaning to get around to it for months, and I noticed the pomegranates are getting to be on their last legs.  I figured if I had to substitute frozen ingredients for fresh in the pasilla filling that would be one thing, but there really isn’t a way to fudge the fresh pomegranate seeds that spackle the top of the beautifully composed and plated dish.  Next autumn I’ll make chiles en nogada along with everyone else at the right season, but I have to say, for February this was an entirely satisfying substitute. 

There are several ingredients in chiles en nogada that are downright elusive to track down.  Piloncillo is one of them, though I tracked it down at a good Mexican grocer on Beacon Hill in Seattle called ABC.  If you are unfamiliar, piloncillo is cane sugar that has been hardened into a cone about 3” high and maybe 2” at its base.  In order to extract the sugar you must melt it down in boiling water. When I was boiling it I stole occasional licks (to test whether it was sufficiently emulsified, of course!) and decided I’ll be making simple syrup from piloncillo from now on. It is sweet to be sure, but it has a depth of flavor that I find lacking in white or most common brown sugars, yet it isn’t overly flavored like maple sugar can be.  I’m ripe to bust out a new batch of limoncello (I’m thinking Meyer lemon since they look so good right now) and I may just throw three cultures in the mix, an Italian liquor made with American Meyer lemons and Latin piloncillo sugar.  Better take another bite of that yummy quail egg appetizer- almost time for the main course:

The real tough ingredient for me was acitrón.  It is candied then jarred cactus leaves and as you may imagine we don’t produce much cactus around these parts.  I commenced by quest by calling Latin grocers, specialty grocers and the like, to no avail.  I then decided to drive the streets of the International District hitting up every little bodega, which also proved fruitless.  I spent two days questing for an ingredient I should have just ordered online, but it was too late, guests had been invited and chiles were soaking in their piloncillo-marinade.  I use an amalgam of recipes for my nogada, one of which suggested candied pineapple as an acceptable substitute for the acitrón.  I found a funky product at Viet Wah market on Martin Luther King Blvd that is basically cubed pineapple geleé in syrup and I thought it might even be a better approximation.  It worked out well and the filling turned out delicious, but next time I think I’ll order the acitrón online just to see if there is any improvement. 

Chiles en nogada is a very filling dish, and it’s meant to be served lukewarm.  As such, I thought long and hard about what might appropriately flank the glory of the main course without overpowering it.  I decided the plate could use some additional color to keep the pomegranate company so I served sous vide carrots with carrot stem pureé that I piped in dollops at the top of the carrots.  The carrot pureé was intriguing- I went the creamed route as opposed to pureeing the greens in water and oil, and the resulting color and texture was brilliant green with softness like mousse.  I will definitely add that side to the repertoire for its whimsy, flavor and fun presentation.  I will leave you with the base recipe that I like the most for clarity along with my changes noted. It is originally from the website patismexicantable.com and it excellent all on its own for a first-time Nogada chef.  I tend to mix it with several other recipes taking bits and pieces that I like, but I feel with the exception of a couple notes I’ve made inline to the recipe, it is the best baseline to start with and not get hopelessly confused.   I hope you consider this recipe for your next Mexican fiesta- it’s truly a guest-silencing, plate licking affair.

CHILES EN NOGADA
Recipe adapted from Don Luis Bello Morin
Makes 10

INGREDIENTS
For chiles
10 chiles poblanos
6 cups water
5 tablespoons shredded or chopped piloncillo, or brown sugar

To cook the meat
2 pounds pork shoulder, butt, leg or ribs, or a combination of meats such as veal and beef, deboned and cut into chunks
2 garlic cloves
1/4 white onion
1 carrot, peeled, cut into two pieces
2 bay leaves
1/4 teaspoon dried thyme or a couple fresh thyme sprigs
5 black peppercorns
1 teaspoon kosher, coarse or sea salt

For filling
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 garlic clove, finely chopped
1/4 cup white onion, chopped
1 pound ripe tomatoes, pureed, or about 2 cups tomato puree
All the cooked meat, finely chopped
2 cups meat cooking broth
1 teaspoon kosher, coarse or sea salt
3 oz acitron, or candied pineapple, chopped
1 ripe plantain, peeled and diced, about 1 1/4 cup
1 Bartlett pear, diced, about 1 1/4 cup
1 Golden Delicious apple, diced, about 1 1/4 cup
1 large yellow peach, mature but firm, diced, about 1 1/4 cup
pinch of cumin
pinch of ground cloves, or 4 to 5 whole cloves, seeds smashed and stems discarded
1 Ceylon or real cinnamon stick
1/4 cup blond raisins
1/4 cup silvered almonds, lightly toasted
1/4 cup pinenuts, lightly toasted
1/4 cup chopped manzanilla olives

For walnut or pecan sauce
1 1/2 cup freshly peeled walnuts, if not fresh DON’T use packaged, use pecans
2 1/2 cups heavy cream
1/2 cup milk, more or less to taste
1/4 cup confectioners’ sugar, or more to taste
pinch of salt, more or less to taste
pinch of ground white pepper
1 tablespoon Dry Sherry, or more to taste

For garnish
1 cup pomegranate seeds
1/4 chopped parsley, optional

TO PREPARE
To prepare chiles
Rinse and char chiles. To char, you can either place them on a baking sheet or pan under the broiler, directly on the grill, hot comal or directly on an open fire flame. In any case, turn every 2 to 3 minutes until they are charred and blistered but not burnt. Place them, while very hot, in a plastic bag. Close bag tightly and cover with a kitchen towel. Let them sweat for 10 to 20 minutes.

Take them out one by one, and peel off the skin in the sink. As you do so, lightly rinse the chile with water. With a knife, make a slit down one side to take out and discard the seeds and membrane. Treat the flesh carefully so it will not tear and keep the stem on. Place them in a container and cover with the water previously simmered with the piloncillo or sugar until well diluted, anywhere from 2 to 24 hours. If it is more than 2 hours, place them in the refrigerator, covered once they have cooled down. Drain and either use or store in the refrigerator. You can prepare them 4 to 5 days ahead up to this point.

To prepare filling

I place my pork shoulder along with the spices in the sous vide supreme for 12 hours at 165°.  If you do not have a means to cook sous vide, follow the standard instructions here:
Place the meat already cut into 3 to 4″ chunks on the bottom of a cooking pot along with the garlic cloves, 1/4 white onion, carrot, bay leaves, thyme, peppercorns and a teaspoon of salt. Cover with water and place over medium high heat. Simmer for 20 to 25 minutes, until meat is cooked through. Turn off the heat and let the meat and broth cool down. remove the meat with a slotted spoon and chop it finely, reserve. Strain the broth into a container, reserve.

Heat the olive oil in a large deep saute pan over medium high heat. Add the garlic clove and saute for a minute or until it starts becoming fragrant, but don’t let it brown. Add the onion and saute for a couple more minutes, until it becomes translucent and soft and starts gaining some color. Pour in the tomato puree and let it season, stirring often, for about 5 to 7 minutes, until it has deepened its color, thickened its consistency and lost its raw flavor.

Incorporate the chopped meat, 2 cups of cooking broth, a teaspoon of salt, mix it all together and let it cook 3 to 4  minutes. Add the chopped acitron, mix with the meat and let it cook for 4 to 5 minutes. Incorporate the chopped plantain, pear, apple, and peach and gently mix it all together, let it cook for a couple minutes. Sprinkle the cumin and ground cloves, making sure you mix those spices well. Place a cinnamon stick in the middle of the pan, cover  with a lid, lower the heat to medium and let it cook for about 8 to 10 minutes.

Uncover, add the raisins, almonds, pine nuts, green olives, mix well and taste for salt. Add more if need be. Turn off the heat. You can make the filling up to 2 days in advance, cool, cover and refrigerate.

To prepare sauce
Place all ingredients except the Sherry in the blender and puree until smooth. (I pass the sauce through a fine mesh strainer to remove the pesky peels at this point) You can make the sauce a couple days in advance, but bring it to out room temperature before using. Mix the Sherry into the sauce up to 2 hours before serving. Add more to taste, but it shouldn’t have a strong alcohol flavor. If it thickened while in the refrigerator, lighten it up with some milk.

Finally!!!! To assemble Chiles en Nogada
Place the chiles in a serving platter. Stuff each one with about 1/2 cup filling. Close as best you can. Generously spoon walnut or pecan sauce on top to cover chiles entirely and sprinkle with pomegranate seeds and chopped parsley on top.

The last few days have been a whirlwind of jet-setting and a true taste of la dolce vita for yours truly.  Electrolux appliances requested food blogger submissions to win a trip to NYC and help raise awareness for ovarian cancer research via Foodbuzz a while back.  I have reasons close to home for entering the contest, and I was over-the-moon when I found out I would be amongst the pool of 15 bloggers selected to go.  As details of the event unfolded, my excitement grew.  Hang with Kelly Ripa? Check.  Stay at the über-chic Hotel Gansevoort in the Meatpacking district? Check.  Get ferried from place to place by an amazing chauffer service during our entire stay? Check.  Attend a private demonstration at the Spotted Pig by their world-renowned head chef  April Bloomfield? Also check!  A couple of days before the event it was revealed that TLC’s Cake Boss himself, Buddy Valastro, would give us cake decorating tips, choose themes, and help us to decorate five cakes that YOU can vote on for free, and every time you vote Electrolux will donate a dollar to the Ovarian Cancer Research Fund.  What an adventure! 

The event day run of show reads just like something out of a trendy novel about a girl getting whisked into the NYC adventure of her dreams for a day.  I woke up at 6:45am (mind you after a night cavorting with meatpacking glitterati at the Spotted Pig and Gansevoort rooftop lounge) which is 2:45am Seattle time.  After sloshing on a few strokes of makeup and munching a hurried breakfast hosted by Electrolux, a fleet of SUV’s shuttled the 15 of us to the “Live with Regis and Kelly” studio to attend a taping.  By a stroke of dumb luck, I happened to get the best seat in the house, front and center, and thoroughly enjoyed watching Kelly Ripa make chocolate-dipped strawberries and Regis do his comic thing.  After the taping we had two free hours before we were required for cake decorating, and what’s a girl to do with extra time in NYC? You guessed it, I hit up the divine shops peppered about the Meatpacking district.  Sales abound since apparently someday soon winter will give way to spring, so I managed to pick up three dresses in 10 minutes flat at Scoop.  I was really on a mission for boots since winter blizzards were all anyone could talk about and I’d only packed Manolos and Louboutins, but a few new dresses couldn’t hurt, right?

I grabbed a quick NY slice, changed into my lucky Etro dress that I love to wear when I teach cheesemaking classes, and regrouped with the posse for the journey to the Chelsea Market where our event would take place.  We were ushered into a private space atop the market filled with more photographers, videographers and studio equipment than I’ve ever seen.  A state-of-the-art Electrolux kitchen provided the perfect backdrop for the affair, and we got to hobnob with Electrolux engineers, designers and even the CEO while Cake Boss Buddy readied his team for the blogger onslaught.  Electrolux launched its kitchen line in the US two years ago, and let me tell you, I am drooling. They have thought of everything from roll out oven racks to hyper-induction cooktops all the while maintaining a sophisticated stainless style.  Their gas cooktops have close to a 20,000 btu range on a single burner (!) enabling you to crank up the heat but then turn something waaaay down if you need to go into coast mode.  If you are in the market for a kitchen upgrade I strongly suggest you check out this line- I was a Bertazzoni loyalist until I saw these babies in action, now you can consider me a convert. 

Once I picked my jaw up off the floor from drooling over Electrolux’ stunning kitchen, Buddy Valestra and Kelly Ripa took the stage.  They explained that the 15 of us would break down into five teams, and each team would get a cake theme.  I was part of Team Awesome along with Katherine and Meghann and our theme was “Here Comes the Sun.”  Buddy offered us a ton of assistance because he said our theme was by far the hardest, employing lots of crazy piping techniques.  I learned the “squeeze and pull” approach to piping, and while your mind may go directly to the gutter upon hearing that, it’s actually fairly innocent!  Buddy and his crew were amazing teachers and could not have been more kind, genuine and helpful.  Kelly was also a peach- she strolled from team to team heckling us and offering words of encouragement alternately.  I accused her of deliberately messing up on her demo while making a buttercream rose with a piping bag, so we got into a little rose-off.  I discovered that it’s actually much harder than it looks to pipe out those lovely flowers you often see on wedding cakes.  In fact Kelly’s turned out better than mine; though none of ours were quite nice enough to top a Cake Boss cake, so we ate the rejects! 

I gave Buddy and Kelly (along with some fellow-bloggers) a tin of my homemade salt to try- I sure hope they like it.  The event itself took upwards of three hours and in the end all our cakes were photographed and uploaded to the Kelly Confidential website.  This is where the generosity of Electrolux comes in again (you can tell I LOVE these people!).  You, my lovelies, each and every one of you, can go to the website and vote on your favorite cake.  Every time you vote (which is FREE and EASY) Electrolux will donate $1 to the Ovarian Cancer Research Fund.  I would love it if you would vote for my cake “Here Comes the Sun,” but I understand it’s a touch wonky looking and in the end this is all for a GREAT cause, right? 

I will be posting more about this enchanting trip to NYC in the coming days, specifically about the Spotted Pig, the giant blizzard that necessitated the purchase of a new pair of silver boots, and likely a lot more Electrolux love, so stay tuned and GO VOTE!