Something old, something new

 

I have a little trick for perking up leftovers.

What I do is I make something new to go with something old that needs to be eaten. Last week, for example, we had some leftover roast chicken. Now you know I love roast chicken. But like Frances, I prefer it best the first night. (I am not joking about the dog. She will gobble down as much roast chicken as we could possibly feed her the night it's roasted; a few days later, she sniffs it disdainfully and must be coerced to take a bite. She'll consider it when it's lightly reheated. Who's the more evolved species here?)

Anyway, we had this chicken from a few days before. No sides to go with it, though. In fact, I can't even remember what the original sides were. A big salad with croutons, maybe--that's one of my favorite go-to dinners.

So I perused the pantry for something inspiring. Amid the boxes of pasta and jars of spices I spied to my great delight a small ziploc bag of dried porcini mushrooms. 

I've gushed about porcinis before; I don't just love the way they add a deep meatiness to any dish, I love the way they remind me of a dear aunt and uncle, both now gone, who would mushroom hunt and share their findings with the family. I thought I had used up all of their precious fungi but here remained one last bag stashed away. I decided on a wild mushroom risotto.

Later, we sat down to dinner. The risotto was delicious, full of shallots, wine, and roughly chopped porcinis. The chicken brightened and stood up to the earthy risotto. All of a sudden it seemed more interesting to me and we finished it off, down to the wings. Who knew a lowly mushroom could bring new life to an old chicken?

Chocolate chip cookies, with a twist

Awhile back-- a long while back now, it seems--the nice people at Abrams sent me this gorgeous book for review.

I was excited. For one thing, the photos are really sensational. I found myself salivating at the sight of deep fuchsia beet and quinoa pancakes--when in reality, beet and quinoa pancakes don't sound good to me. I was equally enamored of the beautiful Apricot Boysenberry Tarts in the cover shot.

But a cookbook can't be just enticing photographs. There are far too many of these out there, in my opinion--oversized, glossy tomes that should just be set on your coffee table while you serve dessert baked from a real cookbook.

Good to the Grain, however, is the real thing. The recipes are serious. Kim Boyce is a former pastry chef at Spago and Campanile in L.A. She's clearly earned her good reputation, which is underscored by a glowing foreward from Nancy Silverton. Boyce writes in a thoughtful way, and it's evident that she's invested years in perfecting these recipes. We're lucky she's shared them with us--and her techniques, too, honed through years of working in professional kitchens.

I'll admit that I was biased against the book from the beginning for the plain fact that I don't generally have a high opinion of cookies and cakes made with whole grains. They are often leaden and dull and what they hold in virtue they often lack in flavor. But Kim's recipes were not the familiar 25-grain bread and harvest hockeypuck selection. On the contrary, her recipes called to me. Corn and Gruyere Muffins? Iced Oatmeal Cookies? Sign me up. And I've been fantasizing about her Muscovado Sugar Cake for months now.

I decided it was a good idea to start basic: isn't that a reasonable measure of a cookbook?  I chose Boyce's recipe for chocolate chip cookies made with whole wheat flour. I liked the look of the recipe for two reasons besides the mouth-watering photo: 1) The butter is added--chilled! No pre-softening necessary. And 2) It calls for chopping up good dark chocolate instead of plain old chocolate chips.

I have to tell you, these were some of the best chocolate chip cookies I have ever made. They turned out ever so slightly crispy on top, but chewy in the center, with a nutty background from the whole wheat, and big chunks of chocolate running through. Now, most of us are loyalists when it comes to chocolate chip cookie recipes, and if I could only make one the rest of my life, it would still be the one from Baking Illustrated that I wrote about a year ago. But this would be a very close second place.

The one thing about this cookbook is that I don't see myself buying all these different kinds of flours. I mean, whole wheat I can get behind. But amaranth, barley, spelt, and kamut?  It seems to require a change in life perspective--and a larger pantry. But truthfully, that barrier is my own making and not the fault of the book. And it is one I am inspired to break through, thanks to Kim Boyce.

Chocolate Chip Cookies
from Good to the Grain: Baking with Whole-Grain Flours

About 20 large cookies

Parchment for baking sheets

Dry Mix:
3 c. whole wheat flour
1 1/2 t. baking powder
1 t.  baking soda
1 1/2 t. kosher salt

Wet Mix:
8 oz (2 sticks) cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2" pieces
1 c. dark brown sugar (I used light)
1 c. sugar
2 eggs
2 t. vanilla extract

8 oz. bittersweet chocolate, roughly chopped into 1/4-1/2" pieces (I used Scharffen Berger semisweet)

1. Place two racks in the upper and lower thirds of the oven and preheat to 350. Line two baking sheets with parchment.

2. Sift the dry ingredients into a large bowl.

3. Add the butter and the sugars to the bowl of a standing mixer fitted with a paddle attachment. With the mixer on low speed, mix just until the butter and sugars are blended, about 2 minutes. Use a spatula to scrape down the sides of the bowl. Add the eggs one at a time, mixing until each is combined. Mix in the vanilla. Add the flour mixture to the bowl and blend on low speed until the flour is barely combined, about 30 seconds. Scrape down the sides and bottom of the bowl.

4. Add the chocolate all at once to the batter. Mix on low speed until the chocolate is evenly combined. Use a spatula to scrape down the sides and bottom of the bowl, then scrape the batter out onto a work surface and use your hands to fully incorporate all the ingredients.

5. Scoop mounds of dough about 3 T. in size onto the baking sheet, leaving 3 inches between them, or about 6 to a sheet.

6. Bake the cookies for 16-20 minutes, rotating the sheets halfway through, until the cookies are evenly dark brown. Transfer the cookies, still on the parchment, to the counter to cool, and repeat with remaining dough. These are best eaten warm from the oven or later that same day. They'll keep in an airtight container for up to 3 days.

Fava bean puree with homemade pita chips

One evening last week I was in the mood for a pre-dinner snack. As you may recall, one of my favorite things to whip up on such occasions is white bean puree with pita chips. For a few months or maybe years, I made this little nosh quite a bit.

I think I went overboard on it, though, because recently I haven't really felt like making or eating it. Sometimes when I look at the cans of cannellini beans in the pantry I can't help but grimace. And when I've mentioned it to the husband, he's made a face, too. Guess I made it one time too many. What can I say? I have a semi-obsessive personality.

Happily, there are other dips to be had. And isn't it fun to take something seasonal and make it the star? Something like fava beans.

You know the method. Take the fava beans out of their cute caterpillar-like pods, and for as long as you can stand it, remove the thin coverings on each one. I tried to find pleasure in this simple (if mind-numbing) task, but after awhile,  I chucked the remainder of the unshelled beans into the food processor. They were awfully tiny and who would know the difference? I'm obsessive but lazy, a  combination I'd like to channel into a wildly lucrative career someday.

The second frustrating thing about fava beans is that you buy a pound of them but by the time you're done shelling, you only have about 1/2 a cup. They didn't even form a single layer over the bottom of the food processor. So after a moment's hesitation, I opened a can of cannellini beans along with salt, pepper, lemon juice, olive oil, a small garlic clove, and a big handful of basil.

It looked very pretty, if a little like guacamole.

The pita chips turned out crispy, golden, and dusted in sea salt.

When all was said and done, though, this puree, although more than edible, would have been better without the cannellini beans. I felt their canniness took away from the freshness of the favas, which is the root of their appeal--they taste like a new spring garden.

I've done a pure fava bean puree before, in more disciplined days when somehow I gathered the patience to shell what must have been two to three pounds of the little suckers. Those days are over, though, or at least on hold. But I do have fond memories of that puree, which always turned out brighter in taste and greener in color. I often used mint, a better match than basil. My recent combination ended up tasting vaguely like pesto, which wasn't what I was going for. I do think it would be good on a sandwich, however.

Oh well. Sometimes it's enough for a snack to be functional--something to hold you over until dinner is ready. It need not meet every culinary expectation. When it does, great. But I can live with mediocrity from time to time.