Kolache Lessons, What the Latest Batch Has Taught Me

I'm sure quite a few of you out there are wondering when I am going to post the recipe for the kolaches I made last weekend. I don't want to break your hearts, but I am not going to post it. Why you ask? I don't like putting recipes out there without making sure that I can give clear directions on how to work the recipe properly, and right now I don't feel I would be doing you guys justice by just throwing ingredients out there willy nilly. After all, I want y'all to have successes, and leave the fails to me.

No sad muffins on my watch!

So here are some future plans in relation to said kolaches. First things first, I am back in Relapse, so it may be a little while before I attempt them again. However, it will not be one year. I promise. I mean it this time.

I have also decided that I have enough handle on the mixing of the dough components that I feel confident in halving the recipe into a reasonable amount. Three dozen kolaches is more than enough for one sitting. This will hopefully make my relapse period shorter and more manageable.

Please stand by and I crawl back on the wagon...if I can even find it.

Exhaustion Has Taken Over, I May Relapse

I'm dead and broken

Preparation...I've Moved Up a Stage

Bring it you delightful confection...I'm ready.



I'm going to need some moral support here people! Let me hear it!

A Foodie Stumble Through Washington, D.C.

For those of you who live under a rock and could not guess where I was from the out of focus  obviously professionally shot photo of me in the mysterious, Plexi-glassed kitchen, I was in the Smithsonian standing in front of Julia Child's Kitchen....and I was squeeing myself.

Julia's Kitchen for those of you who cannot make it there; here is a higher quality slightly more professional photo tour of its awesomeness.

What was I doing in Washington D.C. you ask? Lobbying for better food labeling, food handling/processing, or clearer marking of genetically modified foods? Sadly no. Instead, I was learning about a doctoral program, seeing the campus, and generally trying not make a fool of myself with the folks that will be deciding what I do for the next 5 years of my life. While Jon and I were there, we decided to take in some sights as well.

The last time I went to D.C. I was not the bumbling fool well-versed culinary genius standing before you today...no wait...that's a lie. I was exactly the same. I just didn't know that I would fall ass-backward into blogging about it at that time. That's why I was not so keen on visiting the kitchen over say...the memorials the last time I was there.

This year, I had exactly 2 things that I wanted to see: Julia Child's Kitchen, and the Jaleo Restaurant. Jaleo was a restaurant I first heard about while watching Iron Chef. Jaleo's Executive Chef, Jose Andres, smacked down my future baby's daddy (and apparent upstairs neighbor), Bobby Flay, during battle goat. When I heard that Andres' restaurant was in D.C., I just had to go. I don't travel to New York or Las Vegas (where Flay and many other challengers have a lot of their restaurants) so I feel like this was one of the few opportunities I would have to eat at Iron Chef quality establishment. More on that later.

This moment is for Julia...

It's too bad it's behind greasy, smudged Plexi-glass.

Me: "How's the picture look?"  Jon: "Great! Totally in focus and everything!"

Notice the clock says 12:20. It is always lunch time in Julia's kitchen.

 Every pot has a purpose.

There were quite literally a MILLION people in there trying to see it. I didn't realize that so many people were interested in seeing her kitchen. Getting these three pictures with no one else in them was enough to get about 1,000 piss-faced, hurry-up scowls. That's okay though. This was my moment with Julia. The first thing that struck me was the color of cabinets; Tiffany Blue. My wedding was in Tiffany Blue, the hovel is decorated in Tiffany Blue, I am at one with Tiffany Blue.

Tiffany Blue is the worst color to try to match for weddings, just fyi. If you are a perfectionist bride, choose another color for the love of God or you will be bald from stress and broke because you practically have to custom dye everything.

The next thing that struck me was how low the stove was. She had the cabinets raised because she was exceptionally tall for a woman. If you do the flash tour linked above, you will notice that it appears a good four inches or so lower than her cabinets. That may not seem like much, but if you are constantly bent over like that, you are going to throw out your back. Here's a picture of it, but it doesn't quite capture the disparity in height. Perhaps that why she had a stool perched there on the other side. So she could sit while she fussed over pots.

 (C) Jeff Kubina

Of course, this range was an incredible improvement over her earlier stoves, like the one seen here.

Another thing that struck me, which I guess it shouldn't have being that I was in a museum and all, was how well used everything appeared. The pots and pans were battered and scorched, jars were full with peeling labels, utensil handles were bent. It reminded me of walking into my grandmother's kitchen as a child. It just goes to show you how blinded by media perceptions we (meaning I) really are. When you watch cooking shows on TV you see nothing but brilliant counters with shiny pots, pans, and appliances. See Exhibits A, B, and C below.

Still too exited to be talking about radishes, Rach.       Image (C) CelebPulp

Chef Anne, I hate to categorize you in the same universe with R.R., but when you say, "big meat" you scare me a little and make me think dirty thoughts. I hope this does not affect our potential future BFF-ness  (Image probably (c) of Food Network)

The Anti-Christ. No explanation required. Image found here.

Another thing that surprised me is how cluttered and random the kitchen appeared. Again, I shouldn't be because Julia actually lived and cooked in that kitchen, putting things in places that were convenient for her regular use. Not like today's TV chefs that have everything symmetrical and neatly stacked/contained. (Review the above if you don't believe me).

Julia really loved knives, but she did not own a knife block. I thought that was interesting. She instead chose to have her knives within easy reach on a magnetic strip. Julia Child was, in fact, childless. Good thing though, so she did not have to worry about any emo neighbor kids getting ahold of her knife collection. Just an interesting observation.

Go cry somewhere else emo kid.

One thing she thought every cook should have was a mortar and pestle. Don't ask me why. I'd probably just end up dropping it on my foot or something, but here is hers.

"An Essential Kitchen Tool"

Another, more surprising, component of the exhibit talked about how Julia didn't start cooking until later in life. And, like myself, she was not always successful. I think it was quintessential Julia to want to teach others and show that she had lots of obstacles to overcome to achieve what she did. It makes one feel almost as if she were your friend instead of some soulless celebrity cook. 

I am not alone.

What touched me the most about the exhibit was the obvious love between Julia and Paul. It was thick in the air like a peppered, white gravy. So much love passed in that kitchen, and as you can read from the picture above, she admitted that there would be no "French Chef" without her beloved Paul. I would not be "The Project" without my beloved Jon, either.

It was a great experience and I found myself welling up with tears as we walked out. The exhibit moved me, and I can't tell you why. It was like being at a celebration of life for a recently departed friend. It's exactly the same way I felt when I watched the end of Julie and Julia, the movie. You see the Smithsonian kitchen kind of fade into the the actual kitchen, with Julia cooking away and Paul coming in with a package that turns out to be Julia's first published cookbook. Julia has changed the lives and inspired many servantless, American cooks like myself. I was just lucky enough to see a small glimpse into her every day life.

Thank you Julia, for everything.

Kick Ass Shepherd's Pie

Hey guys! I am so excited to tell you about this recipe and how I pulled it off flawlessly by "thinking like a chef" and bypassing some goof-ups I made early on and turning out an excellent meal. 

I am proud to say even the leftovers are now gone, which says a lot in this house. Jon was very sweet with his compliments: "This is so good that not only would I eat it again if you made it, I would feed it to other people." That's my man, forever the charmer. 

Let's rock out some Shepherd's Pie, kids! 

First things first, Shepherd's Pie is traditionally made with ground lamb or cubed lamb shoulder. Not only is mutton a little difficult and pricey to get our hands on here in Houston, we aren't the biggest lamb eaters. Instead, I used ground beef. It was magnificent. I imagine if you want to use beef stew meat diced into very small cubes (like 1/4") you could use that as well. 

I made my Shepard's Pie off of Chef Anne Burrell's Shepherd's Pie. If you want her recipe, click her name. How I made mine is listed below:

• Olive oil, as needed
• 1 pound ground beef
• Salt
• 3-4 heaping Tablespoons of flour
• 1-2 ribs celery, cut into 1/4-inch dice
• 3 carrots, peeled and cut into 1/4-inch dice
• 1 quarter to 1/2 of a large onion
• 2 cloves garlic, smashed and finely chopped. (Garlic powder got me through because I just ran out of fresh)
• 1/4 cup tomato sauce
• 1/2 cup red wine
• 3 to 4 cups chicken stock
• 1 fat pinch of thyme
• 2 pounds potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch dices
• 3/4 to 1 cup milk (warm if you have the time)
• 2 to 3 tablespoons butter
• 1/2-1 cup frozen peas

You'll notice that mine will make a smaller portion, feeds 2 starving, college frat boys, or 4 people eating moderate portions with a dinner roll or something. As previously mentioned, mine is made with beef instead of lamb. In addition, I added a bit of onion because, hey, why not? Also, my Shepherd's Pie is differing from Chef Anne's because it is missing leeks, tomato paste and bay leaves. Why? I didn't have them and had to make do (due?). 

Haha. I just said doodoo. *crickets* Ahem, moving on.

I also didn't have fresh thyme, so I think like a chef and improvise. I used a pinch of the dry stuff instead. As far as the tomato paste goes, thought I had it but I didn't. It was tomato sauce. I used a quarter cup of it instead and slipped the remainder into a half used jar of pasta sauce that was hiding out in the fridge. No one was the wiser.

Enough stalling, let's get to the heavy lifting.

Distructions:

Coat a wide pan, like a sauce pan, with olive oil and bring to a medium-high heat. Season the beef with salt and toss with the flour. Add the beef to the pan and brown well. Remove the beef from the pan and reserve in a bowl you have lying around. Ditch the oil in the pan and add a splash new olive oil.

Add the celery, carrots, and onion to the pan. Season the mixture with salt and cook, stirring frequently until the vegetables are soft and very aromatic, about 8 to 10 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 2 to 3 minutes more. Add the beef back to the pan and stir to combine.

Add the tomato sauce and cook until the tomato sauce starts to brown, about 2 to 3 minutes. Then, add the wine and cook until it reduces by half.

I love cooking with wine. Sometimes it actually makes it into the dish.

Add enough stock to just cover the surface of the beef mixture. Taste and season with salt and pepper, if needed. Sprinkle in the thyme. Bring the stock to a boil and reduce to a simmer. Partially cover and simmer for at least 30 minutes to an hour, or until the kids start complaining that they are starving. If you are using the stew meat, you will need to continue cooking until the meat is tender. When the stock level reduces replace with more to keep the meat just submerged.

In the mean time, we have to make the mashed potato topping. Place the potatoes in a medium saucepan and cover by 1-inch with tap water. Season the water with salt and bring the water to a boil. Boil the potatoes until they are fork tender, about 15 minutes. Drain the water from the potatoes They don't have to be soupy or super creamy. They need a little heft to them to stay on the top of the pie and form a hardy "crust".  Get one of the kids to mash them with a hand tool or mixer while slowly adding the butter and milk. Taste and season with salt, if needed.

Remove the lid from the beef and add the peas. Simmer for 15 minutes more to allow the stock level to reduce. Taste and adjust the seasoning, if needed. When done, the beef mixture should be thick and stew-like. Not soupy.

Preheat the broiler.

Transfer the beef mixture to a wide, flat baking dish like a Corningware dish. Spread the mashed potatoes over the beef mixture in an even layer.

Just like this...

Place the baking dish under the preheated broiler. Broil until the potatoes are golden brown and crispy. Don't walk off! This only takes a few minutes and if you aren't paying attention, they will burn. If you are as truly awesome, your dish will come out like this:

Okay, not very pretty, but damn tasty.

Enjoy!

Wordless Wednesday: Probably Getting a Little Too Addicted

Busted...

Why I Should be on "Worst Cooks in America" & Other Wordlessness

I fed this to him for dinner.

Cake Mania + "Worst Chef" in Training = Lessons Learned

Last night I got a wild hare up my "aspic" and decided that we needed a cake to brighten up our ghetto hovel of an apartment. Besides, it would give me the opportunity to use about 50 of the gadgets so graciously bestowed upon us for the wedding. Of course it wouldn't be exciting at all if there wasn't some kind of mayhem involved...so let's get started.

Dinner of Jonathan's less-than-the-desirable-amount-of-onion stew was served up and devoured while listening to the inane ramblings of the AT&T associate trying to upsell us on cable when we only called for a password reset. Wow, was that a run-on sentence? Anyway, I was craving something sweet. I have been all week. Seeing how we blew through all the Christmas candy already I had to be more creative. I dove to the back of the pantry to see if I could rustle up some old cake mix or brownies. Nada. *grumble*

I threw open the cabinet of cookbooks and pulled out the Williams Sonoma Yellow Cake recipe that accompanied a lovely set of 8" round cake pans so generously given to me by a coworker. A cursory glance at the ingredient list and away I went, sifting flour here, measuring carefully there.

Following directions. That was the #1 lesson on the last Worst Cooks in America. I double and triple checked the measurements, and I think I did pretty well...except for the butter and sugar. Two lessons were learned last night: Butter takes forever to soften at room temperature even if you chop it into smaller blocks. Melted butter is almost just as bad for your recipes. It makes your pastry not as fluffy. So when a recipe says, "ingredients at room temperature" don't get cocky. My frozen ice-block butter got pseudo-chewed up in the blender. I ran some scalding water on the outside of the bowl to try to help soften. Didn't work too well. Then came the sugar. The recipe called for 2 cups. All my measuring cups were dirty, save a 1/2 cup scoop. So I carefully scooped, leveled each scoop, then slowly added to the mixture approximately 4 times. I say approximately because J distracted me in between what might have been the end of scoop 3 and I might have thought it was scoop 4. So I'm not really sure if 2 full cups made it in. It takes all my mental energy to cook, distraction derails the tiniest of details.

Details...like how my milk was yet again expired. I did, however have powdered milk, which I mixed with water to make a milk-like substance. I think that it may have contributed to the texture of this cake, which is pretty dense. Moving on.

I carefully grease and flour the pans, carefully halving the batter into each pan. Then I notice a glop of something in the bottom that isn't moving. Re-enter the ice-butter. I try to mix in the butter/sugar blob conglomeration into the remaining batter in the bowl and pray for divine intervention. You see, I'm what Chef Robert Irvine calls "a hider". I attempt to hide something that doesn't come out right or pretty. Chef Irvine will find out! He will smash you with his giant, meaty biceps which he got from tenderizing sides of beef by hand. Fear Chef Irvine... *cowering under my mom's butcher block*

"I will kill you with this whisk!" -Imaginary Chef Irvine in my head

So now I slap my pans into a horrible oven WITH NO WINDOW OR LIGHT!!!! God, how I hate this oven with knobs so old the temperature markings are half rubbed off/covered in some toxic goo from previous tenant. Not MY toxic goo! I swear! Scout's Honor! We have been doing dishes religiously with the help of a glamorous pair of dish gloves given by gingerific gal pal Sam. Thanks to her, I can now do dishes with minimal gagging. Sort of. See here's proof:

Scrub-a-dub

The next thirty minutes are spent pacing anxiously...

Finally, it is time to pull out the cakes. Per the instructions, they were cooled in the pan on a rack. A rack, might I add, that has followed me through at least 4 apartments and never been used. I racked and waited some more. Patience is a virtue, and has it's benefits. Behold a kitchen miracle...

Dear Williams and Sonoma, I love you.



So now comes another period of waiting until the cake cools completely. I give up on the waiting game and go shower. I come back afterwards and feel the cake is sufficiently cool. Is it truly cool? Not sure, it was after 9pm and I was ready for bed so I was forging forward regardless.

The next step is to cut "the dome" off the top of the tops of the cake. Good thing I had these awesome Wustof knives from Williams Sonoma. Serrated blade away!  *saw saw saw, slip* SHIT!



"Jon HELP!!!! No not me, SAVE THE CAKE dammit!"

I'm not allowed to use the knives anymore as I sawed a nice gash in my finger that didn't stop bleeding for like 30 minutes. Thankfully, no cakes became a biohazard. J took over the rest of the cutting whilst I donned a big bandage.

After the bleeding was contained, I set about to stacking and icing in my pjs. I laid down wax paper and iced on my beautiful cake pedestal...from Williams Sonoma. Here's the final product, yellow cake like grandma used to make. I was filled with glee, despite looking like a mad woman.

FYI- the caking was f-ing delicious.