The $110 Appetizer and the Gifts that Followed

Describing Venice as a "labyrinth" has the metaphoric equivalency of calling the Adriatic Sea "moist."  

Remember back to the SATs?  Venice : Labyrinth :: Adriatic Sea : ?

Get my meaning?  Good.  Then you'll understand what a remarkable feat it was even finding our hotel let alone the serendipity of finding one of the best restaurants in the whole city.

We took the train from Florence to Venice (assisted by a few very pleasant gypsies who helped fleece us out of 10 Euros more than they should have) and arrived at a train station.  Not entirely remarkable to itself, as we were traveling by train (see previous sentence), however, only in Venice will the train station be on the bank of a major water way trimmed in grand architecture dating back to the 13th to 18th centuries.  Speaking with the European tourists who frequent the city, we learned of the Vaporetti--the water buses that are the most commonly accessed water transport.  Studying multiple maps, we gained a good sense of what stop we needed and so we settled into the ride--jostling with locals and tourists from around the globe, and getting swept up in the sights of Venice.

We arrived at our stop, but on exiting the vaporetto, we had no markers to indicate which "street" would lead us to our hotel.  Wheeling our luggage behind us, we entered the closest alleyway to us.  As it turns out, everything in Venice that isn't water and isn't a building is either a bridge, a piazza or an alley.  And since the only land transportation is walking, size of alley doesn't really indicate the importance of the alley.  Wide alleys may dead end and narrow alleys may lead exactly where you want to go.  So it was with this alley we chose.  I remember thinking, "this can't be right," because the alley was so narrow I could not wheel two suitcases behind me side-by-side without scraping them against the 4-story buildings defining the passage way. 

We passed restaurants in open piazzas (mid-afternoon, so most were closed for lunch but may have served some light fare) then ducked back into another alley--still without any real idea of our direction.    By happenstance we glanced up an another alley we thought SHOULD be close to our destination, and there it was: our hotel.

We checked in, got the scoop from the boys at the front desk, toweled off (SO HOT and HUMID!) and then went back outside to explore. 

Venice is everything I wanted it to be and so much more.  I could go back tomorrow and enjoy it as if it were my first time. 

Initially, I had a mind to try and live on a budget.  This is probably the financial advisor in me, but I was really trying to shop and eat on the cheap.  At least until lunch on the second day.  We found a good, out of the way place (everything is sort of out of the way: did I mention that Venice is a maze?) and ate some really wonderful cuisine: frutti di mare.  Then everything sort of fell into place in my mind--like finding that one long piece in Tetris that clears all the rows:  I'm ME.  I love food.  Why would I punish us by avoiding some of the best food opportunities in the world?  Budget minded living gets you Olive Garden Venice.

We walked back to the hotel that night and past a little restaurant not 50 feet from the front of our hotel door.  We had passed it every time we went into or exited from our hotel, but with my newly renovated mindset, I noticed a basket of wild mushrooms, including boletes--mushrooms of the finest quality.  I used to hunt mushrooms in New Mexico and those were prizes, if found.  Their locations were closely guarded secrets by any mycologist lucky enough to find them.  Now, here they were, half a world away, and no less prized.  We told the maitre d' that we needed a shower but we would be back soon. 

They set a table for us upwind from the smokers (everywhere is a designated smoking area in Venice, doubly so outside) and we ordered a bottle of wine and asked how the chef recommended the mushrooms.  Like climbing the steps to Heaven, my taste buds ascended to levels of ecstasy they had never before known.  We split a serving of the boletes as an appetizer, then a shared course of risotto with seafood, we shared a small steak and vegetables, and finished with a panna cotta for dessert.  THIS!  This is what I know we deserved. 

We returned the next two nights, playing a repeat of that same theme: The second night having ravioli for an appetizer, a chanterelles risotto, seafood entree, more wine, more panna cotta. The third night we looked to blow out all the stops. 

Flashback:  I remember in college, The Old Towne Ale House had dollar beers and 10 cent wings on Wednesday nights.  Wednesday night became my night of gluttony, damned be the consequences.  And sure enough, the consequences usually damned me, some way, some how, either that night or the next morning. 

A voice in the back of my head may have whispered that this was about to happen again.  On a much larger scale.

Damned be the consequences? 

We told the maitre d' that we'd be back in 45 minutes and asked if we could have what had become our table.  We cleaned up and changed, and made our way back.  Our regular server had the night off, but we had seen tonight's server the previous nights and he had been prepared for our evening--looking forward to it, even.  We asked what he recommended for a bottle of wine to which he said the maitre d' recommends a very special bottle for us.  We accepted the personalized recommendation.  Let the stop blowing begin.  I asked about the mushrooms for the day, and there was a special treat: in addition to the chanterelles of the previous night, they also had a very beautiful, very large and very fresh truffle from the mainland. Truffle risotto?  Fillet with a truffle sauce?  We elected to have a simple saute of chanterelles for an appetizer, cuttlefish and pasta, the fillet et truffle and then we'd decide on something for dessert. 

The mushrooms came out of the kitchen and our waiter presented us two plates, as opposed to our customary one.  He hadn't been serving us the previous nights, and I hadn't thought to tell him that we share the courses. (In all honesty, each serving was exceedingly generous.  There would be no way we could each have eaten that much food without sharing, and we wanted to try as many dishes as we could.  Hence: sharing.)  We indicated our preference to our new waiter, but the appitizer damage was done.  And since we weren't really ordering from the menu, we didn't know the price.  We didn't think (want?) to ask, either. 

Damned be the consequences.  We ordered another bottle of wine.

We smiled and joked with the staff, with other patrons (Hello, John "James" Bond 006 3/4.  We agree, you didn't quite make it.) and passers-by.  We watched as people passed, women dressed to impress in their short dresses and high heels, staggering not at all on the cobbled walkways, the families with beleaguered children (or sometimes parents) in tow, the young, the old, the wealthy, the middle class, all flowing like water through the passageways of Venice. 

The hours passed and our evening started to wrap up.  My beloved excused herself to the women's room and our waiter and some of the staff joined me at the table.  I expressed my gratitude for the hospitality and the wonderful cuisine of the last few days.  I discovered that all of the ingredients are as local as possible and some--like the chanterelles, boletes and truffles--may be found wild.  They then presented the bill.

I would love to believe that I had a good poker face.  I knew the tab would be high.  I know I held it together well enough, because everyone was still smiling as my beloved returned with the maitre d',  having been introduced to our chef.  I paid the tab and kept the receipt.  Later I discovered the appetizer--those lovely chanterelles, hand picked and lovingly prepared--came to 75 Euros.  The rest of the dinner, the bottles of wine, all added up to a pretty penny.  Damn those consequences.

Rather than leaving, our maitre d' invited us inside (completely empty--for all the bustle of the restaurant, everyone wanted to sit outside) and offered us limoncello.  We sat and sipped and talked of good food and travel.  We shared some of our favorite recipes, and they presented us with a cookbook.  We shook hands and embraced as appropriate and we took our leave.  We waddled up to our room to go to bed for our last night in Venice.  The gondoliers still paddled through the tight canal, four stories below our window, their lanterns looking like fireflies dancing over the water. 

We reflected: the food was wonderful, the people were terrific.  The bill was large but worth it and the cookbook was a charming gesture of the hospitality of our hosts.  From one family who enjoys food to another.  The consequences were not that damned bad.

Here are a few interpretations of our favorite Venitian cuisine.  Buon appetito!

Sauteed Chanterelles
If you're lucky enough to get fresh chanterelles, that's great!  If you can't, don't despair: they dry well and can easily be reconstituted.  Simply simmer for 5 minutes in water, or white wine and water, or broth.  Remove from the heat and let stand, submerged in the liquid and covered for 10 minutes.  When they've softened, trim off the tough stem ends.  Reserve the liquid to flavor other dishes (like risotto).

1 1/2 cups fresh or reconstituted Chanterelles (I'm partial to Golden, but Black are also available and delicious)
1 1/2  tablespoons of Butter
1 large clove of Garlic, minced
1 small Shallot, sliced very thin
1/4 cup Dry White Wine
1 tablespoon Parsley, minced, plus a few whole leaves for garnish

(If the mushrooms have been reconstituted, saute them in a dry skillet for a few minutes to steam out most of the residual liquid.  Then continue.)  Melt the butter in a skillet on medium high heat until it stops foaming, then add the garlic and shallots.  Stir gently for 60 seconds (or one minute--your choice.  I'm not picky.) then add the chanterelles.  Saute for 2-3 minutes, moving them gently, occasionally.  Add the minced parsley and saute with the chanterelles for another minute.  Add the wine and reduce the heat to medium low.  Let simmer for 3-4 more minutes. 

Garnish with a couple of whole parsley leaves and serve hot.

Fruiti di Mare
Most every culture that exists near the sea has some kind of seafood stew.  I can't think of any that don't, but then again, I'm not really trying.  This is one inspired by the seafoods available locally in eastern Italy, but adapted for the supermarket fish available in the mountains of Colorado.

1 lb Shrimp, shelled and deveined
1/2 lb each of live Clams and Mussels
1/2 lb small Squid, cleaned and cut into rings (and tentacles if you're lucky enough to get the whole squid)
10 Roma Tomatoes, chopped
2 cloves Garlic, minced
1 large Shallot, sliced fine
3 tablespoons fresh Parsley Leaves, minced
1/2 cup White Wine
Olive Oil
Salt
Red Pepper Flakes
1/2 cup Chicken or Fish Stock
Pasta (spaghetti or linguine)

In a large pan over medium high heat, add 1/4 cup of olive oil.  Wait 30 seconds until the oil can be swirled easily in the bottom of the pan, then add the garlic, shallots, 1 teaspoon salt and 1 (slightly rounded) teaspoon of red pepper.  Stir gently in the pan until the garlic has softened. Add the white wine and stock and cover.  Let come to a simmer and reduce heat.   Add the clams and mussels and cover the pan again. (Take care to sort out any with broken shells or which have already opened.)  Let simmer for 10 minutes until the shells have opened. 

Add the chopped tomatoes and 2 tablespoons of  parsley.  Cover and let simmer for 5 minutes.  Add more wine and stock if needed. 

Start a large pot of salted water to boil.  Cook the pasta according to directions.

As you put the dried pasta in the pot, add the shrimp and calamari to the tomatoes and shellfish.  Cover the pot.  Cook for about 5 minutes then stir to mix everything.   The shrimp should be pink and the calamari white.  Cover and remove from the heat.

Drain the pasta, and in a large bowl, combine the frutti di mare and the linguini and toss once or twice with tongs.  Sprinkle with the remaining parsley.  Serve in individual bowls with a little crostini on the side.

Limoncello
My beloved has been making this for years, but has recently changed the recipe. This is a wonderful after dinner liqueur, or you can mix it with sparkling water for a summer afternoon treat.

2 large, organic Lemons
Cheese Cloth and String
a large Glass Jar with a Lid

750 ml Pure Grain Alcohol (Everclear)

1 cup Water

1 cup Sugar 

juice of the 2 Lemons

 

Wrap the lemons in a piece of cheesecloth and tie the ends like a satchel, leaving enough string on both ends to hang a few inches below the top of the jar. 

 

Pour the alcohol into the glass jar. Holding the string ends, make sure the lemon does not touch the alcohol. Secure the string around the mouth of the jar and close the jar tightly.  (If your jar does not have an airtight seal, you can seal the lid by wrapping the seam with adhesive tape.)  Leave the jar in a cool, dark place for 3 months.  (Beauty like this takes time. Deal with it.)

 

When ready, prepare a syrup by combining the cold water and sugar. Simmer over medium heat until the mixture boils and the sugar dissolves completely.  Remove from the heat and allow the syrup to rest until completely cool.

Unseal the jar, remove and juice the lemons. Pour the alcohol into a large jar along with the syrup. Add the lemon juice.  Mix very well. Pour the mixture through a coffee filter into a bottle.

Cork the bottle and let it rest for at least 1 week before using it.  Or as long as you can stand.  I think we waited about 5 minutes. 

Welcome Back

Hello again.  Miss me?

I needed this hiatus. My posts became increasing preachy and I needed some time to refocus.  I didn't know it would be a year, but there you are.

In the mean time, I've still been cooking.  We've been travelling (Florence, Venice, Slovenia, Marrakesh).   I took my first cooking class.  I've been experimenting with gelatin and agar agar.  I don't have an oven but I do have crazy good skills for finding alternate heating sources to cook food.  I've explored more wild foods.  We've fallen in love with even more restaurants.

I promise to share all of it with you. 

So where to go first?  How about a few recipes and then we ease back into all this?  Here's two.  Please enjoy.

Chicken & Mushroom Mac n Cheese
2 Chicken Breasts
1 large Clove of Garlic, minced
Olive Oil
Mushrooms, chopped
Butter
Cheddar Cheese, grated
Cream
Salt & Pepper
1 1/4 cup Orzo (dry measure), cooked and drained
Parsley, chopped and Cheese, grated

Slow cook chicken breasts, with salt and pepper in olive oil and garlic. Remove chicken from pan, leaving drippings and garlic. Add mushrooms and increase heat to sauté. When mushrooms have cooked, chop the chicken and add back to the pan, and reduce the heat to low.

In sauce pan on medium high heat, melt the butter, then add the cheese and cream, stirring constantly.  When the cheese is completely melted and the sauce is smooth, stir in the chicken and mushroom mixture. Stir in the orzo.

Serve with a little grated cheese and chopped parsley on top. 


Thai Chili Bitters
1 tsp Cloves
10 Juniper Berries
1 tbsp Allspice Berries
1 Bay Leaf
1 tbsp Black Pepper Corns
1/2 star of Anise
6 Green Cardamom Pods
2 tbsp Coriander Seeds
2 Thai Chilies
Gentian Root Extract
750 ml Everclear

Follow the basic recipe for Bitters that I posted in 2010. 

After you've strained and filtered the bitters, pour it into a large non-reactive pot.  Reduce it over a very low heat.  This is the purest alcohol you can get and it's extremely volitile.  It will reduce quickly and you want it down to about 1/5 of it's original volume.  Use extreme caution if you are using a gas stove, because it could explode!  Do not cover.  Don't stir.  In fact don't even make this recipe unless you've got the fortitude to wade across a lava flow carrying that old lady who was too stubborn to leave her home until it was too late, even though Peirce Brosnan warned her to go.  But if you decide to make it, you will be rewarded with a spicy little number to accent your gin or rye.

Can We Have a Grown-up Talk?

I love indulging my passions. A fly on the wall would be both shocked and amused at my antics. Spend more than a few hours with me and I bet you would be too. While I can maintain a professional attitude at work and I prefer not to swear in front of my mom, most social conventions get thrown out the window when I'm left to my own devices for too long. I similarly prefer to surround myself with people a lot like me, which also means that we become enablers, or even instigators, to each other. I have been witness to or participated in most of the wonderful vices known to modern man.

Which takes me to porn. Don't turn away! I'm not going to embarrass you, me or my mom in this conversation. (While I'd love to say that I'll actually make my mom proud with this post, that wouldn't exactly be accurate either. Probably.)

Pornography has been around for a long time. Frescos uncovered in the ancient city of Pompeii (buried under 20 feet of volcanic ash in AD 79) depicted graphic scenes of handsome men and beautiful women doing their best to illustrate the entire catalogue of The Birds and the Bees. Man/Woman, Men/Women, Man/Man, Woman/Woman and sometimes Man/Woman/Member of the Animal Kingdom. Pretty much everything there to view. Like a very educational Google search. Or late night Cinemax.

Like ancient Rome, porn is now going much more mainstream than it used to be, even a few decades ago. Do you know who Bree Olson is? If your first guess was Porn Star, then you are a guy and I know what you've been doing with your computer. If you answered, "Porn Star who famously hooked up with Charlie Sheen and that other woman during Charlie's near downfall, and then got even more famous by telling her part of the story to TMZ," you would also be right and have illustrated my point.

Do you know what Bree Olson isn't? She isn't real. Bree Olson isn't her real name. You can find her stats and dimensions; her turn ons and turn offs; what she thinks about the industry, Charlie Sheen, and religion. But you and I don't know what she's like in an arguement. We don't know how she cleans her house, how she cuddles up to a loved one when she's tired, nor the quirks she has about shopping. In short, we don't have a person. We have a porn starlet.

Pornography is a poor (albeit sexy) imitation of a relationship. It doesn't show the day-to-day events and activities that build a partnership. It doesn't show taking out the trash, changing the diapers or rubbing your beloved's feet. It only shows you . . . well . . . you know.

And THAT is why I hate the term "food porn." Example: While I love Neil Patrick Harris, and he has a great Twitter feed of beautiful food from famous restaurants from all over the world, (@NPHFoodPorn), the real beauty of the food he is enjoying is NOT in the picture of the dish, but in the making and sensuality of it.

Food porn doesn't show you the ingredients, challenges, efforts and triumphs of truly wonderful cuisine. The time it takes assemble disparate parts; the sweat in a hot kitchen; the sticky fingers; flour hanging in the air; the smell of soup-stock simmering on the stove. This where my relationship to food gets permanently fixed in my soul.
But here's the rub: I still love looking at pictures of food. The experience can be inspirational. There is a fantasy, a desire, a carnal wanting that makes you crave more. Yes, even though I hate the thought of food porn, I indulge in it, too. The preacher also sins.

So here's a couple of recipes that could be food porn, but I am better for having had the relationship.

Gulkand 

Thank you to my friend at Indian Food Rocks for inspiring me and pointing me in the right direction. This particular recipe was adapted from recipes found extensively on the internet.

4-5 cups of aromatic Rose Petals (see recipe, below, to keep it safe)

2 cups White or Raw Sugar (I like more sugar than is usually suggested)

3 Cardamom Pods

2 teaspoons Coriander Seeds

4 Whole Cloves

Early in the morning, while your roses are just opening up for the day, snip the best-looking rose heads into a bowl. Make sure the roses are free of bruises, blemishes and BUGS! This is not part of my entymophagy post. Separate the petals from the rest of the rose head, and lay the petals out on a paper towel. Don't bother patting them dry but do remove any excess water. Discard any petals that are badly damaged, bruised, dried and crinkly, etc.

In a wide-mouth mason jar, layer rose petals and sugar. Somewhere in the middle, sprinkle in the spices. Finish with rose petals on top.

Seal the jar and place it in the sun for 6 hours a day for 3-4 weeks. Every other day, open the jar and give it a stir with the handle of a wooden spoon. (Opening the jar also allows you to indulge your senses by taking a whiff. I have to imagine this is what faerie farts smell like.) There will be condensation in the jars. This is good.

After 3-4 weeks, the petals break down and everything turns dark and muddy in color. This is also good. The sugar crystals melt and clump and pick up color and flavor.

You can eat the gulkand right off a spoon (Lord knows I do!) or you can add it to other ingredients. It combines well with alcohol. Mix a tablespoon of gulkand in 2 oz of water, 2 oz of good gin and 1 oz of vodka. Stir until the sugar has dissolved. Add the fresh juice of 1/2 lemon, shake over ice for 30 seconds and strain into a cocktail glass. refreshing on a summer night!

Orange Lavender Bitters

Like the bitters before, but MUCH better.

750ml Everclear

3 tablespoons Coriander Seeds

1 Anise Star

1 teaspoon Allspice Berries

2 teaspoons Peppercorns (I used white. That's what I had on hand.)

1 California Bay Leaf

8oz Dried Orange Peel

25 Drops Gentian Root Extract

8oz Dried Lavender Flowers

In a clean jar, combine all the dried ingredients EXCEPT for the lavender. Add the Everclear and the gentian root extract. Seal the jar and store in a cool, dark place for 7 days. Give it a good shake once a day. The liquid should start to turn orange.

After the first week has passed, add the lavender. Shake once a day for 7 more days.

Strain it through a seive to catch the big stuff, then double filter it through a pitcher water filter (I use a Brita).

When it is pretty clear (although very dark), put it in a sauce pan over medium low heat. Reduce it to 1/2. Store in clean jars.

Breaking Bread

For it is we who must pray for our daily bread, and if He grants it to us, it is only through our labour, our skill and preparation.
--Paracelsus

Over the centuries, most of the world used some kind of bread product to enhance and suppliment their daily rations.  "Breaking bread" with another human being was a sign of welcome, acceptance and love.  Now this once noble food of tradition is under attack. 

Carbohydrate reduced diets have been quite the rage since before Atkins re-released his diet in 2002, and while I won't debate the merits of one diet over another, I will blanketly state that bread, pasta and rice have their place in any (weight-loss or other) diet.  They contribute to a feeling of satiety and provide easily accessible energy in the form of sugars.  Critics cite the "empty calories" of most high carbohydrate foods.  I'm not arguing this critique, but they taste so doggone good.  What's a glutton to do to satisfy his gluten cravings?

Make my own!

I like being able to control what I put in my body.  If I know the ingredients in my food, I can have a better handle on nutrients, flavors and eliminate other unwanted chemicals.  And not to get too self-righteous (a lie--I love to be self-righteous) but making my own also satisfies my soul.

The ingredients and recipes are simple, but bread and pasta both take time and a lot of elbow grease.  This naturally dissuades people from taking full advantage of the greatest joys to wash over your senses.  Even now I have dried dough under my fingernails and pressed into my cuticles.  Our house smells like heaven and my tummy gurgles with anticipation.

Tonight we feast on:

Artisan Bread
1 2/3 cup Warm Water (115 degrees)
2 teaspoons Yeast
1/2 teaspoon Sugar
4 1/2 cups Bread Flour, plus extra for kneading
2 teaspoons Salt
1/4 cup Olive Oil

In a large bowl, combine 1/3 cup warm water and 1/2 teaspoon yeast and the sugar.  Stir with a fork until dissolved.  Let stand for 10 minutes while foam forms.  Add 1/2 cup flour and mix until it comes together.  Flour your hands (and take off your rings) and knead the dough for a few minutes until it starts to provide some tension in your hands.  Cover with plastic wrap in the bowl and put it into a cold oven.  Let rise and ferment over night.

The next morning (or when you get to it), remove the plastic wrap and push the dough down.  Add the remaining warm water and yeast.  Using your hands, stir the dough in the water until it starts to break up in the water.

Add the remaining flour along with the salt and oil.  Mix, until it comes together, then start to knead.  It will be wet and sticky.  Cover and let it rest for 20 minutes.  Knead in the bowl until the dough starts to create some tension in your fingers (about 4 minutes).  Transfer the dough ball to a floured surface and knead until the dough holds it's shape and loses it's sticky feeling (about another 6 minutes).  Cover and let rise until it doubles in size.

Divide the dough into 2 equal parts.  On a floured surface flatten 1 piece of the dough to about 1 inch tall and about 6 inches wide and 10-12 inches long.  Fold in the sides to make a 12 inch loaf.  Turn the newly made loaf over onto a floured piece of parchment paper so the seam is down.  Prepare the other piece of dough the same way.  Cover and let rise for 30 minutes.

Preheat oven with a baking stone on the center rack and a cast iron (or other heavy metal oven-proof) skillet on the bottom rack to 425 degrees.

Dust the top of the loaves with flour.  Slide a silicone cutting mat or ridgeless cookie sheet under the parchment paper and transfer the loaves and paper onto the baking stone.  (Remove the transferring device.)  Put 1/2 cup ice cubes (or ice water) in the skillet.  Bake for 50 minutes.

Let the loaves cool on a cooling rack (remove the paper) for 20 minutes before cutting into the bread.  It will be hard but your patience will be rewarded.

Spinach Noodles
4-6 cups All Purpose Flour
1 teaspoon Salt
2 Eggs, beaten
1 tablespoon water
1/4 cup olive oil
2/3 cup Spinach, boiled and drained and chopped fine

In a very large bowl, mound up the flour.  Make a large depression in the mountain (think "blown out volcano"), large enough to pour in the other ingredients.

In a separate bowl, combine the salt, eggs, water, olive oil and spinach. Using a fork, mix well.  Slowly pour the wet ingredients into the flour depression and beat the wet ingredients with the fork.  You don't want to mix the wet stuff right into the flour, but rather beat the wet ingredients, so that it pulls the flour into the mix.  This gives you the best shot at getting the right ratios every time.  (Since every batch of flour is slightly different, some will absorb more and some less.)

As the liquid comes together as a dough, and the fork no longer seems to be your best method of stirring it up, start kneading the dough by hand, still in the flour.  You will incorporate a lot more flour now and the dough will start to tighten up.  Knead for about 4 minutes like this, then lift the dough ball out of the bowl and onto a lightly floured surface.  Knead for another 2-4 minutes until the ball starts to toughen up and becomes harder to knead.  Wrap in plastic wrap and let it rest for about 30 minutes.

Unwrap the ball and divide it into 4 equal parts.  Rewrap 3 of them.  On a floured surface, roll the dough out until it is about 1/8 inch tall.  I prefer to roll it out so that the dough is long and narrow--I like long noodles.

Using a straight edge and a knife or pizza cutter, cut the noodles into 1/4 inch wide strips.  Carefully lift them and hang them to dry.  (I used my mom's clothes line outside.)  Repeat with the other three balls of dough.

No straight edge for me!  I'm using a broken nut sliverer and free hand cutting.

Dry thoroughly to store for up to 2 months in a sealed container (cool, dry, dark place, of course).  When cooking, heat a large pot (6 quart) of water to boiling.  Add a teaspoon of salt, and a goodly amount of noodles.  Let them boil 3-5 minutes, drain and stir in a couple tablespoons of sauce or olive oil to keep them from sticking.

Dessert on a Diet

The Quest: Make a dessert high in nutritional value, that tastes great and is relatively low in calories.  Bonus: Vegan (I want EVERYONE to be able to enjoy this.)
Double Bonus: The cooking time is less than a half hour, although the refrigeration is 4 hours.
The Experiment:  A different kind of Panna Cotta.

Back Story: Everyone will recognize that I've had no professional training for cooking.  Almost everything I've learned I picked up from my parents, reading cook books, watching TV and videos and lots of trial and error.  You also know that I've been on a bit of a health kick of late.  I want to look and feel better all of the time.  But I'm still a glutton at heart.  I love sweet, salty, rich and creamy foods.  How can a glutton have everything he wants?

This is my problem.  I can't read this.
Neither can you.  So, don't judge me.

The Players: Panna cotta is a milk-based dessert set using animal-based gelatin.  Neither of these things are allowed in a vegan diet.  What can be substituted for whole milk?  Nothing really, but I tried both unsweetened soy milk and plain almond milk.  I liked the taste of almond better.  It also has less fat (good for me, bad for dessert), less calories and more nutrition than soy.  Even more challenging, I need to find a substitute for heavy cream.  I selected canned, unsweetened coconut milk.  It has a relatively high fat content (although nowhere near real cream), is naturally sweet and rich. To set the gel, I looked for plant substitutes.  Agar (or agar agar) is a structural agent found in the cell walls of red algae.  I found it in the baking aisle of my local grocery store, in thread and powdered form.  (Like the adventuresome idiot I sometimes am, I got my agar agar from the Pacific Ocean Marketplace years ago before I knew what it was or how to use it.  It's been sitting in our pantry for at least 5 years.)

The cast of characters.

If I stopped here, the panna cotta would taste ok, but not great.  The really rich creaminess just can't be brought to life without richer and creamier ingredients.  Therefore, I decided to go in a different direction.  I added a can of pumpkin puree and 2 tablespoons of grated fresh ginger to really punch up the "wow" factor.  The resulting mix has only 94 calories, 110% daily requirement of vitamin A, 10% daily requirement of vitamin C, is high in dietary fiber, calcium and iron, has 0 cholesterol, and only 4 grams of fat.  And it tastes GREAT!

The resulting panna cotta?  A failure the first time around.  It didn't gel.  That was a fear of mine with so little fat.

The next try?  Stay tuned.

Tonight for dessert, we're having:

Vegan Pumpkin Ginger Panna Cotta Ice Cream
1 cup Almond Milk
2 tablespoons Agar Agar Threads
1 can (15oz) Pumpkin Puree
2 tablespoon grated fresh Ginger
2 cups Coconut Milk
1 teaspoon Vanilla Extract
6 tablespoons Sugar
pinch of Salt

Pour the almond milk into a medium sauce pan and sprinkle the agar evenly over the surface of the milk. Let stand for 10 minutes to allow the agar to hydrate. Get the rest of your ingredients ready and also fill a very large mixing bowl 1/2 way with ice and add enough water to let the ice cubes float off the bottom. Get another bowl ready that is small enough to fit inside the large bowl, and large enough to hold about 6-8 cups of liquid. Also set out the ramekins or cups you will use for chilling.

Heat the almond milk and agar on medium heat, stirring constantly, until the agar dissolves completely and the temperature reaches 135 degrees on an instant read thermometer. Remove from the heat and stir in the sugar and salt until dissolved.

Pour the almond milk mixture, the coconut milk, pumpkin, ginger and the vanilla into the smaller of the two bowls and place that bowl into the ice water bath. Stirring constantly, chill the mixture to 50 degrees.

Pour the finished mixture into the cups, cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 4 hours.

To serve, dip the cup into hot water for 15-20 seconds, making sure not to let any water spill into the panna cotta. Wet your finger and gently run it around the edge of the cup loosening the panna cotta's hold. Turn out onto a serving plate and top with your favorite syrup, sauce, fruit, nuts, etc.

Pour all the ingredients into the ice cream mixer.  Add 6 more tablespoons sugar and 1 teaspoon of ground cinnamon.  Mix and chill according to the mixer's instructions.  Freeze for a bit longer.  Serve 2 scoops in a bowl or on a cone.  Contemplate another solution to the panna cotta dilema.

Another Colorado Spring Break

Question: What do you do when you run out of milk but still want pancakes?  Milk is somewhat integral to the whole holding-a-pancake-together principle. 

Follow-up question: It's a warm spring morning and you want something to remind you of the high school Spring Break you never took took to Hawaii because your parents didn't have the money to go globe trotting, even though the cool kids would metaporically rub your nose in their glorious golden tans when everyone got back from the week off, and you secretly imagined rubbing coconut-scented suntanning lotion on Becky's back, but as soon as you thought these things you had to lock yourself in the bathroom stall and think about baseball until certain physical traits dissipated.  (OK, that's not a question.)

Answer:

Tropical Pancakes
1 cup All Purpose Flour
1/2 teaspoon Baking Soda
2 teaspoon Baking Powder
1/2 teaspoon Salt
2 tablespoons Sugar
3/4 cup Coconut, toasted to golden brown
1 Honey Mango, peeled and pitted
1 Banana
2 teaspoons fresh Ginger, grated
1/2 cup Orange Juice
1 Egg, beaten
2 tablespoons Vegetable Oil

In a large mixing bowl, combine the dry ingredients and whisk together until well combined.  In another bowl, mash the mango and banana together.  Add the ginger, OJ, egg and vegetable oil and mix until it's a homogeneous soup. 

Stirring with a silicone spatula, add the liquid ingredients to the dry.  Stir until combined. 

Heat a skillet (or two) to medium high on the stove top.  Spray with cooking spray.  When hot, add about 1/2 cup of the batter to the skillet.  Reduce the heat to medium.  Cook on that side until the bottom is evenly browned.  Flip over and cook until the other side is done and the center is cooked through. 

Repeat with the rest of the batter. 

Keep them warm in a 100 degree oven.  Serve with sliced fruit and syrup. 

I Have No Idea What to Call This One

This is the best name for this dish I could think of, so far. 

Hide the Sausage
1 boneless Pork Loin Roast (about 2 1/2 lbs)
4 Bratwurst Sausages
1 Onion, sliced
2 tablespoons Butter
1 bottle Cheap Beer (do NOT use a lite beer--you'll just embarrass yourself)
Salt and Pepper
2 more tablespoons Butter
2 tablespoons AP Flour
1 sheet Puff Pastry

Make the bratwurst, beer, butter and onions according to this recipe. 

Lay the loin fat-side down on a cutting mat.  Using a long knife, start a cut about an inch and a half from the top edge of the loin and continue cutting parallel to the cutting mat.  When you get about an inch and a half away from the edge of the loin, unfold that flap and turn the knife to slice toward the mat. When you get about an inch and a half from the next edge of the loin, continue to unfold and slice.  You ulimately want to unroll the entire loin into an inch and a half thick scroll.  Season with salt and pepper. 

In a large skillet, melt the remaining butter over medium high heat.  When completely melted, sprinkle in the flour and whisk.  Keep whisking/stirring until the roux starts to darken but before it turns a deep brown.  Remove the brats and onions from the beer bath and pour the golden liquid into the roux, whisking thouroughly and constantly.  When the sauce has thickened to a very thick gravy, remove from the heat.  Let it cool for 10 minutes. 

Spread about 1/2 of the gravy evenly in the center of the unrolled loin, stopping about one and a half inches from the edges. Lay the brats latterally 2x2 and end to end at what was the center-most part of the loin (the part that will be the center when you start re-rolling the loin).  Add the onions on top of the brats.

Roll the loin back up.  You can try tying it, but honestly, everything is going to goo out.  Instead, I wrapped the whole thing tightly in two layers of aluminum foil.  Place the package on the hot part of the grill.  Close the lid and cook for 10 minutes.  Turn the package over and cook the other side for about 8 minutes. 

The loin will now hold it's shape but the goo inside will come pouring out, so I unwrapped the top of the loin and left the bottom still sit in foil.  I moved the loin to the cool part of the grill, added cherry wood to the coals and then closed the lid to smoke for about 20 minutes. 

Bring the loin in and let it rest for 10 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. 

Roll the puff pastry out into a sheet large enough to wrap the loin.  Place the loin, smoke-side down on the center of the pastry and wrap it up, sealing the seam on the bottom.  Trim away the excess dough from the ends.  Flip the package over and lay it in the center of a parchment paper-lined cookie sheet.  Poke a lot of little holes in the top of the pastry to let the steam out and pop it into the oven. 

Cook for 15 minutes or until the crust is golden brown.  The interior temperature will read about 170 degrees.  Let rest for 10 minutes.  Slice and serve!

I know the name implied a post more hilarious.  Sorry to let you down. 

Penis. 

Does that make up for it?