2009 October

Roasted Crispy Cheese Potatoes

October 27, 2009 by Rebecca 29 Comments

Just look at the potatoes in that picture. Those spuds are the embodiment of everything a potato should be; mahogany and crisp on the outside, fluffy on the inside, blanketed with nutty brown butter and crusted with toasted cheese. Those potatoes are good enough that they would’ve made Dr. Atkins repent of his low-carb ways.*

*Sure, he had people’s best interests at heart. And I could probably physically survive under such an ascetic diet but emotionally I would die a thousand deaths. Potatoes and me, we’re BFFs.

Roasted Crispy Cheese Potatoes make my kids quiet. Well, at least until the bottom of the dish shows and then it’s a free for all with every man, boy and Mom for him or herself. If you whip up a pan of these to accompany a roast or grilled meat when cooking for the meat-and-potatoes set you will achieve a level of esteem just shy of sainthood. This is pure potato heaven and guaranteed to make men love you and women want to be you. (Or vice versa.) Hey, they’re even satisfying enough to forget the meat. (Don’t tell anyone I said that.)

Did I mention how simple these are to make? They take five ingredients. That’s it.

Enough talk. Let’s make these potatoes.

For a photo-free, printer friendly version of this recipe, click here!

Roasted Crispy Cheese Potatoes

Inspired by a similar recipe from my Grandma Shaffer.

Ingredients:

12 medium size Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled
1 stick (1/4 of a pound) of unsalted butter
1 cup (more or less to taste) finely grated Parmesan, Romano or Asiago cheese
salt and pepper to taste

Lay an unwrapped stick of butter on a rimmed half-sheet pan on a shelf near the center over your oven. Yes. A whole stick of butter. I never said this one was diet friendly. But it’s so good. And my pan is sorry looking, but I’m just keeping it real. Pans get a work-out around here. This is the prettiest one I have.

Turn oven on and begin preheating to 425°F.

Now on to the potatoes…

Cut potatoes in half lengthwise.

Lay potato halves, cut side down, on cutting board and cut each half into 4 to 6 roughly equally-sized pieces.

Repeat with the remaining potatoes.

Check the pan in the oven. Butter should be melted but not burned. If there are areas that are starting to brown lightly you’re fine! Remove pan from oven when butter is almost fully melted the butter will finish melted on the pan.

Grate cheese evenly over melted butter. I like to make sure there’s a good layer on the bottom of the pan. No skimping here!

Sprinkle with salt and pepper to taste.

Arrange potato pieces over the cheese and butter.

Return pan to the oven and bake at 425°F for 30-45 minutes, depending on how crisp and brown you like them. I like potatoes brown. I think potatoes are meant to be brown.

Remove pan from oven when the potatoes reach desired color and transfer to a serving dish. Sit back and accept the praise that is justly yours for creating something to unbelievably scrumptious.

Filed Under: Instructional, Kitchen Techniques and Hints, Rebecca, Recipes, Side Dishes, Vegetarian

Peanut Butter Pebble Pie

October 23, 2009 by Rebecca 4 Comments

This is the story of a pie. A pie made by a woman who calls herself a “utilitarian, church pot-luck cook”. She says it like an apology. Like the soul-satisfying, hearty fare that she creates to nourish every stray -both human and animal- that crosses her path is anything less than wonderful. As though the fact that her food doesn’t require exotic thises, imported thats, or expensive you-know-whats excludes her from being a great cook. The hearty soups, stews, casseroles, breads, and desserts that grace her table are also delivered quietly to the homes of friends and strangers recovering from surgery or illness, suffering from loneliness, or ‘looking like they need a good meal.’ The meal and the hug that comes with it are free.

But we were talking about this pie. This pie was for her six year old grandson. She had missed celebrating his birthday with him by four days. To her, this might as well have been a month. She arrived at the house with kisses for the grand kids, a birthday present and a grocery bag holding confectioner’s sugar, instant pudding mix, peanut butter, a graham cracker crust and a massive container of whipped topping. She kept one eye on the bowl while laughing and talking with her daughter and pulling together a pie she had made many times while her own kids were younger.

First the pudding mix and milk in the bowl. While whisking she talked about how her own mother was feeling these days. She was recuperating better than they had all hoped she could following the surgery. Into the pie shell with the pudding.

She popped the pie in the fridge and grabbed a mixing bowl from under her daughter’s counter. Throwing a cup or so of confectioner’s sugar into the bowl she grabbed a fork. As she told her daughter about the goings-on at her job, she used the fork first to scoop a big mound of peanut butter into the sugar, then to work it into little white-dusted peanut butter pebbles.

There was a break to enjoy a bowl of chowder overflowing with fish, potatoes, corn, onions and cream and play pirates with the grand kids.

She finished assembling the pie with her grandson at her elbow. First the whipped topping went on the set pudding. Then the peanut butter pebbles were scattered over the top. The cheeky little man told his grandma he didn’t like pie. She told him that her feelings wouldn’t be hurt if he didn’t like it but that he should give it a try anyway.

She played “Happy Birthday” on the out-of-tune piano and sang to the birthday boy before slicing up the pie. Kids who wanted nothing to do with the chowder suddenly discovered their appetites and lined up with plates and spoons. They all plunked down on the couch with their Grandma. Her grandson sat as close as he could without actually sitting on her lap and eyeballed his pie suspiciously. He asked her what the pudding tasted like. He asked her what the crust tasted like. He asked what the peanut butter pebbles tasted like. He asked what the whipped topping tasted like. Then he finally took a bite and the suspicion melted off his face. He liked it. He loved it. He kept thanking her for the pie. He told her she was a great cook. He hugged her. A lot.

She tidied up the kitchen and hugged her crew at least five times each before she left. She left them with smiles and the conviction that somehow each individual one of them was the most important thing in the world to her.

Score another one for the utilitarian, church pot-luck cooks. We should all have this talent.

For a photo-free, printer friendly version of this recipe, click here!

Mom’s Peanut Butter Pebble Pie

Ingredients:

1 (3.9 ounce) package, any flavor, instant pudding mix
1 -3/4 cups milk
1 graham cracker crust
1 container whipped topping or whipped cream
1/2 cup natural peanut butter, smooth or crunchy
1 -1/4 cups confectioner’s (powdered) sugar

In a medium sized mixing bowl, whisk together milk and pudding mix for about one minute, or until the mix is mostly dissolved.

Pour into the graham cracker crust immediately.

Lightly cover with plastic wrap and stash in the fridge for about a half an hour.

In another bowl, place the peanut butter on top of the confectioner’s sugar and work the peanut butter apart with a fork until it resembles gravel or pebbles.

Set aside but keep a sharp lookout for little hands sneaking into the bowl to steal these addictive little peanut butter pebbles.

When ready to serve, slice pie into wedges. Place a wedge of pie on a plate and top with a generous amount of whipped topping or whipped cream and a hearty amount of the peanut butter pebbles. Serve with love. Like my mom.

Filed Under: Desserts, Rebecca, Recipes Tagged With: cream pie, dessert, humble pie, pie, simple foods

Pumpkin Pots de Crème

October 9, 2009 by Rebecca 18 Comments

I’m exceptionally fond of combining my obsessions.

Sometimes it’s not so great. Take Homer Simpson’s fabled “Nuts and Gum”, par example…

Sometimes, however, it works great.

When you put together dark chocolate ganache and pie crust you get Dark Chocolate Truffle Tarts. A happy accident if ever there was one…

This is reason enough to keep tart shells in the freezer, no?

I might’ve mentioned that I’m obsessed with Autumn. (Here, here or here…) At one point or another, I might have also mentioned that I’m obsessed with baked custard. (See here for evidence.)

These marvelous obsessions combine to result in the Pumpkin* Pots de Crème (baked pumpkin custards) that I made a couple days ago. The Evil Genius likes them just like this. Simple and lovely.

*Can you think of anything that screams ‘Fall’ more than pumpkin?

I did some naughty, wicked things to it. I turned one (or several) into the fiercest, most autumnal crème brûlée ever made.

Since I was already on the road to a much wider backside, I took another one (or five) and topped it with whipped cream flavored with brandy and vanilla. I sneaked some chopped, toasted walnuts in there and shaved a little fresh nutmeg over the top. Yes, I did. So help me.

I love all you readers so much that I took the bullet for you and ate at least three of each kind: You know, to make sure they were good enough to post here. And then I made a mad dash for the treadmill where I promptly sat down and took a long Fall nap. (The treadmill is nice and long. Plus, you can incline your head so it’s a great place for a seriously comfortable snooze.)

After the aforementioned research, I can attest to three things: One- these things are lip-smacking, toe-tapping good. They’re good enough to make whoever eats them love you forever. Two- They’re light and fluffy to the point where they’re almost like a pumpkin mousse. Not to get all Iron Chef-y on you, but it’s like a pumpkin cloud singing in your mouth. Three- It’s entirely too easy to eat an entire batch of these by yourself but it’s a blissful way to go.

For a printer-friendly, photo-free version of this recipe, click here!

Pumpkin Pots de Crème (Baked Pumpkin Custards)

Yield: 6 (5 ounce) custard cups

Ingredients:

1 cup heavy cream
1/2 cup skim milk (Because skim milk cancels out the heavy cream, right? I’m pretty sure that’s scientific.)
4 egg yolks
1/4 cup sugar or vanilla sugar
3/4 cup pumpkin puree (either homemade or canned)
1 Tablespoon pure vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon fresh grated nutmeg

Optional toppings: Sugar for brûléeing or additional heavy whipping cream, brandy, vanilla, nutmeg and toasted, chopped nuts.

Preheat oven to 325F and put a kettle of water on the stove over high heat to boil.

Bring cream and milk just to a boil in a heavy- bottomed pan. Shut heat off immediately and set aside off of the burner.

Blend egg yolks and sugar on high speed in the bowl of a stand mixer or with a hand blender or whisk until the yolks are a light lemony color and thickened. Add vanilla extract, cinnamon, nutmeg and pumpkin puree to the egg mixture and blend until smooth. Slowly add hot cream while the mixer is running (or while whisking constantly.) Continue blending in cream until it is all incorporated. Now here’s a little exercise in free-will. You can choose to skim the foam off the top or you can choose to leave it. Removing the foam gives you a smoother texture on top of your custard. I kind of like the little foamy bubbles, personally, so I usually leave it where it is. More custard is always a good thing, right?

Divide evenly between custard cups or ramekins. Place ramekins in a roasting pan.

I usually leave a couple of the ramekins out until I’ve poured the boiling water so that I don’t have to worry about accidentally diluting that glorious custard with water. If you try it my way, just be sure to remember to leave the water level slightly lower since it will rise when you add the two or so extra cups. Carefully pour boiling water into the pan so that it comes about 2/3 of the way up the sides of the ramekins. Lay a sheet of foil over the top (do not crimp the foil- it should be loose!) and place pan in the oven. Be careful when transferring to the oven. We’re talking about a lot of hot, sloshy liquid here. Feel free to put the pan IN the oven before adding the boiling water, but you’ll have to move more quickly if you do that to prevent the oven from losing too much heat!

Bake for 40 minutes or until the custard is mostly set but not hard. Remove from oven, carefully transfer ramekins over to a cooling rack using tongs or your hand in a silicone oven mitt and allow to cool until you can easily handle them.

Lay plastic wrap directly on the surface of the custards to prevent them from forming a skin and refrigerate until completely cool (at least 2-3 hours.)

To brûlée:

Set up a heat-proof surface on which you can place the custard-filled ramekins while you attack them with a torch. A good, safe way to do this is to place a stainless-steel cooling rack over an empty broiler pan on top of the stove or other heat-proof area.

Remove plastic wrap from one ramekin and sprinkle about 1 Tablespoon of sugar in an even coat over the surface of the custard.

Tilt the ramekin around so that the sugar completely covers the custard.

Use a butane torch or broiler to melt and caramelize the sugar. Please take note that I don’t have a fancy-pants culinary torch. I have a big old camping torch that does the job beautifully. And it only cost me $20 at my local Walmart. That’s just how I roll, people.

It is easiest to control the degree of caramelization with a hand-held torch. Allow to sit for 2 minutes to let the sugar crust harden before serving.

And then you’re going to want to do this.

And this.

And, oh help me! This.

Sigh.

Mmmmm…

Okay. Bliss. Pure bliss. But there’s more…

For brandy and vanilla whipped cream:

Add 1/2 cup of heavy cream to a metal bowl and whisk until soft peaks form. Add 1 Tablespoon of sugar, 1/2 teaspoon of pure vanilla extract and 1-1/2 teaspoons brandy. Continue to whisk until firm peaks form. Spoon on top of the custards. Dust with a little fresh grated nutmeg (and chopped nuts, if desired.)

See that pretty little doll0p of brandy and vanilla whipped cream and the delicate sprinkle of nutmeg? That’s how you serve it for company. This is how you serve it for yourself. Or me, if I happen to be visiting.

Hey. Did I ever tell you the story about how my mom used to serve mixing bowls of ice cream to people when they asked for “just a little bit in a bowl”? It was hilarious because they were trying to be demure and my mom gave them a whole bunch. Everybody protested, but they secretly loved her for her generous hand with the ice cream.

“Oh gee, you shouldn’t have added that extra dollop. Really, I was just telling a story about my mom. I couldn’t possibly eat that…”

(Phew. I’m glad she picked up on that. I was beginning to think I might have to distract her and grab the bowl of whipped cream myself.) Carry on…

Filed Under: Breakfast Foods, Desserts, Instructional, Kitchen Techniques and Hints, Rebecca, Recipes Tagged With: Autumn desserts, dessert, Fall desserts, heaven, pumpkin

Apple Cider and Beer Braised Pot Roast

October 7, 2009 by Rebecca 9 Comments

It’s finally Fall. I wait all year for this; pumpkins, scarlet maple leaves, blustery wind, butternut squash, grey clouds with bits of brilliant blue peeking through, hay bales, mega-bags of miniature chocolate bars (the best size for stashing in my apron pockets to cover ‘mommy-emergencies’), weather that justifies hours-long baking sessions, wool sock and scarf temperatures… And braising. I’m a braising maniac this time of year. If there is another way of cooking meats that is more suited to this time of year I can’t think of it. Moist, low temperature, long cooking times warm your heart, stomach and your kitchen. Then there are the fringe benefits of braised foods; the outstanding aromas that fill not just the kitchen but the whole house and spill outside surrounding the home. It has made me teary on occasion.*

*I cry over food that makes me happy. Do you think that’s a problem?

When I stumble back to the house chilled and tired after preparing the garden for the winter, raking leaves, hiking with the kids, or pumpkin and apple picking there are few things that make me feel more like God’s in his heaven and all’s right with the world than the mouth-watering smell of my favorite Fall pot roast braised in apple cider and ale. Good food should warm you three times; when you prepare it, when you smell it and when you eat it.

Let’s just talk about the smell for a moment, shall we? The theme is heady scents of sweet apple cider, malty beer, beef and onions tied together with grace notes of ginger, British-style hot mustard, garlic and Worcestershire sauce and the smallest touch of curry powder. The combination is drool-inducing and perhaps hypnotic.*

*Well, I was hypnotized anyway. How else would you explain my absolute inability to do any other work while smelling this roast cook? I just stood in the kitchen like a doofus and grinned for eight hours while watching the wind blow the leaves off the trees. It smelled so stinkin’ good. It was such a perfect moment. If you can call eight hours a moment.

There is more to recommend this roast other than the fact that it makes me weep with its smells and makes my head swim by virtue of the fact that it tastes so good. Really. It takes all of five minutes to get this roast going in the slow-cooker. You don’t pre-brown the meat and this step alone saves you time by eliminating the messiest, trickiest step of most roasts. And having tested the recipe both ways, I am compelled to say that this particular roast doesn’t suffer in the least from skipping the ubiquitous browning step. So. Before you head off for the day to work, or church, or apple pick, toss one of these together and be rewarded by a spectacular dinner when you get home. Or just put it together and stand in your kitchen watching the seasons change. Either way, you just might weep with joy, too.

For a printer-friendly, photo-free version of this recipe, click here!

Whilst on the subject of photos, let me warn you. The quality of these images is all over the place. The weather was, as I mentioned, inclement. Wind whipped, clouds covered and then uncovered the sun, and I just didn’t care enough to spend time fixing it. The point I’m belabouring is that the food transcends the photos taken of it. Just make the roast. Trust me.

I would also like to point out one other thing before we start with the recipe. Look at that beer can.

I snorted with laughter in public when I saw it. I bought it. I’m not too proud to admit I bought it because it was ridiculous. The beer inside, however, was anything but ridiculous. I have never, ever had canned beer that good. It was worth the price tag and it came with bonus laughter; my kind of food.

Apple Cider and Beer Braised Pot Roast

Ingredients:

2-1/2 to 3-1/2 pound Top or Bottom Round beef roast

1 large onion, peeled and sliced into thick rounds

1 packet dry beefy onion soup mix (Any brand will do. Most come in boxes with two envelopes. Just use one!)

2 cups fresh apple cider

1 (12 ounce) can good beer (Do not skimp here. Use a good beer that you like; porter, stout, or ale. I prefer ale in this dish.)

1-1/2 Tablespoons British-style hot mustard (I use Coleman’s mustard)

1-1/2 Tablespoons Worcestershire sauce

1 clove garlic, peeled and minced

1 teaspoon dried ground ginger

3/4 teaspoon mild curry powder

Place the thick rounds of onion over the base of the crock of your slow cooker.

Trim as much surface fat from the roast as you can. Place roast on top of the onion rounds. Smear the top of the roast with the hot mustard and sprinkle the dry onion soup mix, curry powder and dried ginger over the top.

Drizzle the apple cider, beer and Worcestershire sauce over and around the roast.

Add the garlic to the liquid surrounding the roast. It ain’t perty at this point, folks, but stick with it. It’s like an ugly duckling about to turn into a swan. But beefier.

Cover and cook on low for 8-9 hours or until a piece of the roast is easily pulled apart with a fork.

Transfer the roast to a cutting board.

Helpful note: As counterintuitive as it may seem, meats that are braised have a frightening tendency to dry out at warp speed. (See the top of roast in the picture below for proof.) To combat this tendency I always toss my braised roasts in their pan juices prior to serving. As often as not, I serve them in their pan juices as well.

Slice or shred the the roast into large pieces and return to the cooking liquids in the crock. Toss gently to coat and serve. My favorite accompaniments are broiled polenta squares (or Italian grits as my kids call them) topped with grated Romano or Fontina cheese, roasted cauliflower, a tossed salad, and hot crusty bread covered in butter. It is equally wonderful with mashed or roasted potatoes and glazed carrots. Sure, this dinner is fifteen shades of brown, but who cares? It’s Fall! Brown is savoury! Brown is delicious! Brown is good! Embrace the brown!

Filed Under: Instructional, Kitchen Techniques and Hints, Main Dish, Meat, Rebecca, Recipes, slow-cooker Tagged With: beer and meat, cooking with apple cider, crockpot, roast, slow-cooker