Still in the kitchen …

I have been without my camera for a few days, so please excuse the lack of posting. I should have it back this week, and will resume soon after.

I’ve not been far from the kitchen though, what with my continued experiments into the world of all things apple and the recent Canadian Thanksgiving. Some of what has kept me busy:

Things I’ve made
• Applesauce cake, the count is now up to five.
• Two deep dish apple pies, what more is there to say?
• My Mother’s Asian chicken corn soup, delicious and easy, and will be making an appearance again soon.
• Cambozola and sautéed apple sandwiches on naan and grilled, inspired by posts from Melissa and Michèle.
• Roasted butternut squash soup, perfect for the autumn weather but was disappointing to say the least. I do not know if it was the recipe, or if it was just an uninspired squash. It was very pretty though.
• Arborio rice pudding with Calvados and cinnamon caramel, a weeknight creation out of what was on the kitchen shelf. Creamy, comforting and a bit chic, I can see myself making this throughout the coming months.
• Roasted Brussels sprouts with shallots and bacon, a standby recipe.
• Cranberry Sauce, so much tastier than store bought, and it makes you feel very accomplished.
• Pumpkin pie cheesecake, Happy Thanksgiving Canada!
• Braised lamb shanks with balsamic and thyme, after 3 hours of cooking, the lamb filled the house with gorgeous smells of the season. It was the perfect meal after a long afternoon walk.
• Spanish-style hot chocolate infused with cinnamon, my latest addiction.

Things I’ve been thinking about
• A blue cheese tart with honey poached pears and a pecan crust, an idea I’ve carried around for about a year now, this seems the perfect season.
• Indian rice pudding (kheer) with fig compote, continuing my recent rediscovery of this childhood favourite.
• The perfect recipe for chilli and cornbread, with both football AND hockey now back in season, S has taken up residency on our couch. Some good food seems in order.
• Heading back to the farmer’s market in St. Catharines, Ontario. On a recent trip S and I loaded up on freshly baked bread, an array of cheeses and cured meats. Apple cider was being mulled on site, children were dressed in scarves and hats, and pumpkins were everywhere. Welcome October!

If any particular recipes are of interest, please feel free to let me know and I’ll be sure include them as future features.

Celebrating the start of something good

As I was discussing with a friend recently, fall has a very specific personality to it. While I love summer for all its brightness and enthusiasm, this time of year seems bring along a sense of hospitality. The market is still filled with colour, albeit from a kaleidoscope of rainbow hues to a wash of sunset shades. Now is the time to start braising meats and revisiting classic cold-weather comfort food. It is this idea of hearth and home, of generosity and bounty, that truly makes autumn my favourite season.

It was with this thought in mind that I started thinking about what to do with the apples I had from Schouwenaar Orchards and Vineyards. It was the weekend after the official start to fall, and I was looking for something that was homey and comforting. As I padded through the house in my slippers and robe, my gaze fell across the most recent edition of Everyday Food Magazine. Curled up to our breakfast counter, perched on a stool and with hands wrapped firmly around a warm mug, I flipped through the pages until I came upon an in-depth article on apples — with recipes both savoury and sweet, including one for an applesauce cake.

Remembering a favourite recipe for homemade applesauce using apple cider, I switched my mug for a peeler and started to work. Using a mix of Redcort, McIntosh and Galas, I happily worked away, and soon the kitchen was filled with the smells of mulled spices and the cooking fruit. What a perfect way to start a Saturday.

Once it had cooled I was left with a slightly tart, but sweetly balanced, sauce. With this success boosting my confidence, I turned to the cake recipe. As I’ve mentioned before, I'm not one to leave well enough alone — so I gave into my need to fiddle and started scribbling notes.

I had just received the thoughtful gift of miniature tube pans from my mother, so they had to be used, no doubt about it. The magazine called for light brown sugar only, but instead I included a bit of Demerara sugar, wanting the depth of almost burnt sweetness it brings. I also omitted the cardamom, as my cider applesauce was highly spiced. In one batch, I switched out the honey for maple syrup, for no other reason that I thought the spicy caramel taste would bring another note to compliment the apples.

Apple cider applesauce
Well-flavoured and slightly tangy, this is a great simple applesauce to use alone or in cooking. It has more character than store bought varieties, and comes together quite quickly. As an added bonus, your kitchen will smell heavenly as it cooks. You can use a mulled cider for this recipe, but may want to omit the cinnamon called for.

3 pounds apples, peeled, cored and cut into ½” slices (or thereabouts)
1 cinnamon stick or ½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 cup apple cider
2 teaspoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
Honey (optional)

In a large saucepan, combine apples, cinnamon and cider and bring to a boil. Cover and reduce heat, let simmer for 40 minutes, stirring occasionally. If the sauce looks too dry at any time, add a few tablespoons of water.

When apples are tender, remove from heat and discard cinnamon stick (if using). Stir in lemon juice, and check for sweetness. If needed, add honey to taste, to balance flavours.

Makes approximately 4 cups.

Notes
• Sugar can be used instead of the honey, but should then be added before the apples are fully cooled so that it can dissolve. I find honey a much more mellow sweet, and enjoy the resiny depth it adds.

Applesauce Cake
Inspired by the recipe published in Everyday Food.

Non-stick cooking spray
3 cups all-purpose flour (spooned and levelled)
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 ½ teaspoons ground cinnamon (you may omit this if you used a heavily-mulled cider in the applesauce)
1 cup unsalted butter, softened
1 ½ cups packed light brown sugar
½ cup Demerara sugar
¼ cup maple syrup or honey
2 large eggs
2 cups apple cider applesauce (or store-bought)

Icing/confectioner’s sugar (optional)

Preheat oven to 175° C (350°F).

Generously coat twelve 1 cup capacity miniature tube pans (usually in available in sheets of six), or a 10 inch tube pan.

In a large bowl, sift together flour, baking soda, salt and cinnamon.

In the bowl of an electric mixer (or using a handheld), beat together butter, brown sugars and maple syrup/honey until light and fluffy. Add eggs, one at a time, beating until well combined. The mixture should be pale and airy. With mixer on low, gradually add spoonfuls of the flour mixture, mixing until just combined. Beat in applesauce.

Spoon batter into prepared pans, smoothing the tops. Bake until a toothpick or cake tester comes out mostly clean (slightly wet) when inserted in the middle of the cake, 12-18 minutes with the miniature pans, or 50-60 using a traditional tube pan. Be sure not to over bake.

Cool in pan on a wire rack for 10 minutes. Invert onto a cutting board or baking sheet, and then again onto rack, top side up. Allow to cool completely. Serve either top or bottom side up (I liked the bottoms), with a light dusting of icing sugar.

Notes:
• Can be served alone, or with a scoop of cinnamon ice cream or a dollop of maple whipped cream.
• This cake keeps well, wrapped in the fridge. The flavours will mellow and blend.
• This batter is also good when baked in muffin tins - served with a bit of sweet butter, they make a lovely snack or breakfast.

Fall's bounty

I have to admit, I’ve been walking around this week feeling rather lucky. I was recently given the opportunity to have a “tasting” of some of the finest produce Niagara has to offer – namely some of the apple harvest from Schouwenaar Orchard and Vineyards.

Located just outside St. Catharines, Ontario, this family farm has been producing outstanding fruits for the last 30 years. With their diversity farming, currently boasting no less than 35 cultivars on 12 acres of land, Schouwenaar Orchards and Vineyards has an array of varietals to sample.

Their growing season starts in late June, with gorgeous cascades of glistening red and white currants, black ones following about two weeks later. Raspberries and gooseberries are next, and amazingly plump and succulent peaches soon after. Caviar bundles of blackberries end the summer with their alternating sweet and tart juice — perfect for crumbles and cakes. The clear fall sunshine falls upon the apple orchards, full and fragrant, ready for harvest. Not finished just yet, we still have the exceptional Niagara kiwiberries on the horizon.

This week has been all about the apples though. And truly, is there a fruit better suited to the coming of autumn? I will be posting some of the recipes I am experimenting with, but first I believe a bit of an introduction is in order.

Apples, regarded as a household staple and a workhorse of the kitchen, are often neglected recognition for their contribution to our tables. Not as flashy as day-glow drangonfruit or as sensually appealing as a mango, apples quietly add body, flavour and depth to so many dishes, both savoury and sweet. Almost universally enjoyed and with approximately 7,500 known cultivars, there is a flavour and texture to suit any occasion.

The selection pictured above are just a sampling of those the Schouwenaar farm has to offer:

Gala, (centre)
Crunchy and juicy with a sweet-tart taste, these small, aromatic apples blend modern and classical parentage. A cross of the Kidd’s Orange and Golden Delicious, the Gala was developed in New Zealand in the 1930s. When young, the Gala starts out very light coloured, with orange streaks over yellow. As it matures, the apple turns much darker, often a strong red. It is a reliable all-around apple, best for salads and sauces and good for pies and baking.

Elstar, (from the Gala, top left)
Developed in the Netherlands and a cross between the Ingrid Marie and Golden Delicious, this medium sized apple has firm, cream-coloured flesh. The skin has a soft sheen and is mottled yellow and red. The Elstar is a multi-purpose variety, with a sweet tart taste, best for salads and sauces and good for pies and baking.

McIntosh, (counter clockwise, below)
Sweet with a touch of acidity, the McIntosh apple is probably one of the best known. Deep crimson skin and bright white flesh typify this apple, and a taste that is simple and direct. Even though there are more than 3,000,000 McIntosh trees in North America today, they are all from an original grove discovered on the farm of John McIntosh in Dundela, Ontario sometime in the early 1800s. Macintoshes cook down quickly, and so are ideal for sauces. If using in a pie, it is necessary to add a thickener such as cornstarch to bind.

Redcort, (to the right)
A limb mutation of the Cortland apple, this is a crisp, sweet and mellow-flavoured apple. Large red, almost purple sometimes, the Redcort has tender white flesh that is slow to oxidize. This is an excellent apple for desserts.

Honeycrisp, (to the right)
A new variety of apple, developed by the University of Minnesota, it is a cross between the Honeygold and Mancoun. With an avid following of fans, the Honeycrisp lives up to its name, with crispy juicy flesh that seems to snap when bit. Juicy enough to almost be considered effervescent, the taste is sub-acid and ideal for eating raw. The apple is large, with a mottled red over a yellow background. Perfect for most preparations, eating raw, baking, cooking and sauces.

Gingergold, (above)
A cross between Golden Delicious and Albermarle Pippin, this apple was discovered among uprooted trees on a Virginia orchard in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Medium to large with a smooth, greenish gold skin and a slight blush, these apples are slow to discolour when cut and maintain their crisp white flesh. Sweet and slightly spicy, this is an excellent apple for snacking and salads, and is best enjoyed fresh.

Schouwenaar Orchards and Vineyards

Their products are sold wholesale only. For those in the Toronto area they are featured at:
Badali Fruit Market – 1587 Bayview Avenue
Rock Garden – 16930 Airport Road, Caledon East
Hilite Fine Foods – 4-415 Horner Avenue
Golden Orchards – St. Lawrence Market
Highland Farms – Locations throughout Toronto
Harvest Wagon – Yonge Street
Parkway Fine Foods - 881 Elgin Avenue East

There are great resources for apple information available online. One article of particular interest, Skin Deep discusses the correlation between colour and taste of apples.

Look out for recipes next week.

A friend for dinner, Nigella Bites

This is my third instalment of my series in exploring my cookbooks, this time featuring Nigella Bites by Nigella Lawson.

I find that different books respond to different moods. When I want to know the minutiae of proper hollandaise technique, I know that there is nowhere to turn but a dog-eared copy of Larousse Gastronomique. A desire for “classic American cooking” is easily sated by flipping though one of the many books by Marion Cunningham. In the mood for adventure? Madhur Jaffrey’s soothing tone can lead even the novice home cook through the complex world of spices.

But there is one author I turn to most often when I’m looking for companionship - Nigella Lawson. One known for her conversational prose rather than complex (or always accurate) preparations, her books bring pure comfort; it is rainy day reading at its best. She doesn't take herself to seriously, with recipes ranging from classic to kitch. Charming and engaging, her writing is like having a chat with another food-loving friend. Details are scattered sometimes, and the stories can be rambling, but it really is all about the food.

I find her books to be inspirational, not in the sense of something to aspire towards, but rather a style of cooking that is closely related to my own everyday routine yet full of new ideas. It is accessible and simple, but still with a world-travelled palate and with an evident fondness for the social aspect of preparing and sharing food.

I will admit, I rarely follow her recipes to the letter. I usually try to make them as written the first time, but after that I usually tweak and fiddle to suit my own tastes. The fact that Lawson includes space for notes in her books speaks to me of her desire for the reader to make each recipe personal - she does not aspire to be the definitive expert on a dish, but rather seems content in introducing you to a method or an ingredient.

Such was the case with this gorgeous Chocolate Cloud Cake. Featured in the book, Nigella Bites, it was such a success I ended up making three in the same amount of days. True, no two cakes were identical (I also took ideas from recipes from Williams-Sonoma and Ina Garten), but hers was the original inspiration — and really, isn’t that saying something? Densely fudgy with a crackling, brownie-like top, this cake is deceptively simple to make, with results far greater than the effort involved.

Chocolate Cloud Cake
Also available online (including US measurements) at Nigella.com.

On days when I want the warmth of the hearth rather than the hurly burly of the city streets I stay in and read cookery books, and this recipe comes from just the sort of book that gives most succour, Classic Home Desserts by Richard Sax.

The cake itself (which was the pudding I made for last New Year's Eve dinner) is as richly and rewardingly sustaining: a melting, dark, flourless, chocolate base, the sort that sinks damply on cooling; the fallen centre then cloudily filled with softly whipped cream and sprinkled with cocoa powder. As Richard Sax says 'intensity, then relief, in each bite'.

For the cake
250g (9 ounces) dark chocolate, minimum 70% cocoa solids
125g unsalted butter, softened
6 eggs: 2 whole, 4 separated
175g caster sugar
2 tablespoons Cointreau (optional)
Grated zest of 1 orange (optional)
23cm (9 inch) springform cake tin

For the cream topping:
500ml double cream
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 tablespoon Cointreau (optional)
Half teaspoon unsweetened cocoa powder for sprinkling

Preheat the oven to 180ºC/gas mark 4.

Line the bottom of the cake tin with baking parchment.

Melt the chocolate either in a double boiler or a microwave, and then let the butter melt in the warm chocolate.

Beat the 2 whole eggs and 4 egg yolks with 75g of the caster sugar, then gently add the chocolate mixture, the Cointreau and orange zest.

In another bowl, whisk the 4 egg whites until foamy, then gradually add the 100g of sugar and whisk until the whites are holding their shape but not too stiff. Lighten the chocolate mixture with a dollop of egg whites, and then fold in the rest of the whites. Pour into the prepared tin and bake for 35-40 minutes or until the cake is risen and cracked and the centre is no longer wobbly. Cool the cake in its tin on a wire rack; the middle will sink as it cools.

When you are ready to eat, place the still tin-bound cake on a cake stand or plate for serving and carefully remove the cake from its tin. Don't worry about cracks or rough edges: it's the crater look we're going for here. Whip the cream until it's soft and then add the vanilla and Cointreau and continue whisking until the cream is firm but not stiff. Fill the crater of the cake with the whipped cream, easing it out gently towards the edges of the cake, and dust the top lightly with cocoa powder pushed through a tea-strainer.

Serves 8-12

Notes:
• You can make this into an Easter Nest Cake by folding 200g melted chocolate into the cream topping and dotting with the sugar-coated eggs instead of the cocoa. Leave the Cointreau out of both the cake and the cream. (NL)
• When I made this cake, I took some license and added 2 teaspoons of instant espresso powder to the egg yolk/chocolate mixture. I also used a mix of bittersweet and semisweet chocolates, for added depth.
• I ran out of parchment paper, and had fine success using a non-stick pan that I buttered and dusted with cocoa powder.
• Miniature versions of this cake are adorable, using six 4-inch springform pans. Adjust cooking times accordingly.

A taste of the past

This is my entry for the "Childhood Memories Meme", fulfilling my obligation to both my dear friend Michele of Oswego Tea and the utterly creative Caryn of the engaging Delicious Delicious.

When I was tagged for this meme, I was surprisingly stumped for ideas. It was not because I was at a loss for material, because goodness knows my love of food started early on in life, but because I realized that I have taken for granted many of the flavours and culinary adventures that brought me to where I am today. In the end, this has been an interesting exercise, forcing me to take stock of those memories — and reminding me of how lucky I have been.

My father’s sandwiches
My father is a man of precision. He is a man that is always busy, always working and puzzling the best way to solve a problem or the next task at had. I have not always appreciated this drive (especially through my lazy teenage years), but the results were never a disappointment – whether it be a dollhouse, or a bridge for our backyard stream or his famous sandwiches. My father’s attention to detail was especially evident in the latter; he is known in our family as the designated sandwich maker, with staunch philosophies on fats (butter or mayonnaise), condiments (we had an armada of mustards in our fridge), proper seasoning (salt and cracked black pepper) not to mention breads, vegetables and accompaniments … the list went on and on, dependent on the time of year and the specific fillings in question. Every layer was pondered over, each addition placed just so, and in an order for optimal blending of flavours. Indeed, the phrase “this is the best sandwich ever” was an often-heard refrain around our house and through our extended family.

My brother and I still carry on his traditions, becoming sandwich-maker designates in our own homes and with our own burgeoning armies of mustard jars in the fridge. A few years ago, I beamed with pride when my father, fresh from the garden where he was working on a new project, sat at my parents’ kitchen table, leaned back and asked “Tara, can you make me a sandwich?”

Scalloped potatoes
I did not discover scalloped potatoes until I was probably around six or so. And when I first ate a spoonful of that creamy, buttery, wonderfully comforting mass, I was immediately lost. To me, they were culinary perfection; studded with chives and with a brown crust on top, this was elegance personified and so much more chic than boring old mashed potatoes. I was in such raptures that I seem to remember eating them for days straight afterwards - sitting with a soup bowl, filled to the brim with scalloped potatoes, a tablespoon in my hand and a grin on my face.

Burger King’s Bacon Double Cheeseburgers
I do not even like Burger King, but as a child this was the holy grail of hamburgers. Having an older brother, I was the typical thorn in his existence who wanted to do what he did, and eat what he ate. Easily swayed by the fanfare of mid-80s advertising, the advent of the Bacon Double Cheeseburger seemed a gastronomic epiphany. My brother, a bacon lover, was allowed to have them on the rare occasions we went out for food. I, on the other hand, was relegated to the children’s meal cheeseburger, which I deemed vastly inferior. In his charity (or I may have stolen a bite) I first tasted the ambrosia that was the grand burger. Ironically enough, my brother is now a vegetarian, and I do not believe I have had one since.

My mother’s stuffing
Growing up, festive occasions meant one thing, and one thing alone – my mother’s potato stuffing. In high school at a friend’s house for Thanksgiving, I was taken aback at the idea of bread stuffing. It had never occurred to me to have a different type of stuffing, because who would want anything other than the crusty, savoury delight of my childhood? With a mix of chunked and mashed potatoes, filled with onions, bacon, liver, and confidently seasoned, it was the highlight of the holiday table, the most coveted of the leftovers. As you may have guessed, I am a big fan of comfort food, and in my mind you cannot get more classic than this.

My grandmother’s scrambled eggs, pictured
It was through my maternal grandmother’s Anglo-Indian background that we were taught the merits of a hearty shepherd’s pie, the wonders of a proper roast with Yorkshire puddings and the melting lusciousness of ghee-soaked chapattis. Thoughts of her food inspire instant nostalgia, and her eggs are no exception. Stirred patiently over a low heat or a double boiler, they are closer to the texture of curdled cream than to their diner counterparts. She swears by the last-minute addition of butter, insisting it ensures a tender result.

My grandmother’s scrambled eggs
Truth be told, I have never measured an ingredient when making these eggs. These are just guidelines, but truly, this is a recipe that falls into the “pinch of this, a splash of that” category.

2 eggs
1/4 – 1/3 cup of milk (or cream, if preferred)
Salt and pepper to taste
2 teaspoons butter, divided
1/4 cup of finely minced onion
2 teaspoons torn cilantro (or parsley, if preferred)

In a bowl, whisk together eggs, milk and salt and pepper. Set aside.

In a medium non-stick frying pan over medium heat melt one teaspoon of butter and sweat onion for about 2-3 minutes, until translucent and soft but without colour. Pour in eggs, swirling pan to distribute evenly. Cook for 30 seconds or so, until edges are starting to set. Using a silicone spatula or wooden spoon, pull edges of cooked egg towards the centre, forming curds. Continue stirring slowly, repeating process until the eggs are starting to set – it will resemble lumpy custard. At this point, beat in remaining 1 teaspoon butter and torn cilantro. Continue to stir, until eggs are almost finished, similar to the texture of a soft ricotta.

Serves 1.

Notes:
• If I'm feel patient, I'll cook over medium-low for more control.
• Snipped chives can also be used in place of the cilantro, or use a mix of whatever herbs you like.
• I adore these eggs on a grilled ciabatta bun (as pictured). The soft interior of the bread the perfect match for the soft eggs, and the crust provides the right amount of chewiness.

As this meme is getting a trifle old, I’m only going to tag three participants – who hopefully are still untagged.
Chubby Hubby
The Domestic Goddess
Delicious Days