First plating

This week, my class at the Natural Gourmet Institute began our recipe testing on our entrees for Friday Night Dinner. My team (group B) has decided on Peruvian. We were originally going with a winter harvest theme, since our dinner night is so close to the holidays. I had been thinking Peruvian all along but everyone seemed so into the harvest theme that I didn’t say anything in the initial planning class. Then, afterward, I casually mentioned my idea, and everyone really got into it. So I’m pleased that the team liked my idea; however, if it ends up sucking, I will feel so responsible. But I think we’re going to rock Friday Night Dinner. For our first recipe test, we did a pretty awesome job.

Sauteed Greens

Our menu so far consists of causa as the main entrée. Causa is a Peruvian potato pie with layers of different ingredients and topped with the ever-present black olives and egg slices. I created a version for my next cookbook and offered it to the class. We modified it to suit the class requirements and everyone’s tastes. And, of course, no eggs on top, since the meal has to be totally vegan. On the side, we’re having a couple sauces—one green, one red—sauteed greens, and curly sweet potato strings for garnish.

Entree in progress

After much debate and discussion about form, we finally decided to try a terrine mold. We layered each element (more on that later) and flipped it over. There are some things we need to tweak, but overall, the dish was pretty and delicious.

We haven’t settled on an appetizer or dessert yet. I’m a little disappointed that no one

really wanted to go with my dessert suggestion of Suspiro de Limeña, woman’s (from Lima) sigh, a traditional Peruvian dessert parfait made with dulce de leche and whipped cream. It’s a beautiful dessert and unique. And traditional. But we’ll work it out.

Suspiro de Limeña (Marian Blazes)

I’m sure we’ll come up with a great menu.

So, after cookie class at school, we had Cakes and Cake Decorating. But, of course, being that this is the Natural Gourmet Institute we’re talking about, we didn’t just make any old cakes. We made cakes with whole, healthy ingredients in mind.

We made a couple of classics—carrot cake, genoise, and almond torte–but we also made some modern cakes, such as carob cake and ginger cake. It was the frostings, though, that were the real experiments for us. While we did make some standard frostings, such as Swiss Buttercream and Cream Cheese, we stepped into the brave new world of healthy and/or gluten-free and/or vegan alternatives.

Photo: Elyse Prince

Some of the frostings we made were Almond Ganache Frosting, Nut Butter Frosting, Carob Frosting, Coconut Cashew Frosting, Coconut Ganache, and Lemon Tofu Cream. Even the seemingly ubiquitous Chocolate Fudge Icing we made was a page out of the ordinary, as its main ingredient was nut butter. And you know what? They were delicious!

Photo: Elyse Prince

After we made the cakes themselves, we decorated them. We learned how to use various tips in our pastry kits to make flowers, shells, and basket weaves. Everyone did such a great job, I was truly impressed. The cake at right was decorated by my classmate Kalie. Isn’t it gorgeous?

Ultimately, no matter how you cut it, cake is cake, and it will never be a “healthy” thing to eat. But done the NGI way, these desserts don’t have to be the worst things for you, either. Below are recipes for Carob Cake with Walnuts and Chocolate Fudge Icing, both health-supportive alternatives to supermarket or bakery cakes. Let me know what you think.

Carob Cake with Walnuts

Copyright © NGI

1 1/2 cups whole wheat pastry flour
2 tablespoons carob powder
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
6 tablespoons canola or melted coconut oil
2/3 cup maple syrup, room temp
3/4 cup almond milk or soymilk, room temp
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup walnuts, coarsely chopped (optional)

1. Preheat oven to 350 degree F. Oil and flour one 8-inch cake pan and line bottom with parchment.

2. Combine dry ingredients in bowl and whisk together to combine. set aside.

3. In separate bowl, whisk together wet ingredients and ;pour into dry. mix well.

4. Pour batter into prepared baking pan.

5. Sprinkle walnuts on top.

6. Bake for 35 to 40 minutes.

Chocolate Fudge Icing

Copyright © Jenny Matthau/NGI

2 1/2 cups maple syrup
1 1/2 cups smooth nut butter
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups cocoa, sifted

1. In bowl of food processor, combine syrup, nut butter and vanilla.

2. Sift cocoa into wet mixture.

3. Continue to mix until thoroughly combined.

Food styling is a specialty skill and a career in and of itself. (It’s not as easy as it looks.) Magazines (and cookbook publishers) rely on food stylists to make the recipes look enticing to readers so that they will want to make them. They want readers to drool. If the recipes are a food magazine’s foundation, and cooking information its structure, then food styling is its paint and flower garden. The photos are used to captivate people and lure those who would otherwise ignore a recipe, or the magazine, or food altogether.

This past week’s class at the Natural Gourmet Institute was Food as Art, which was about plating techniques, making food look beautiful and appealing on the plate. We whipped out the ring molds and squeeze bottles and created plates of fancy. Teams of two had to make an appetizer and an entrée, and each person made a dessert. It was kind of like Iron Chef or Chopped, where we were given certain ingredients and we had to come up with stuff to make.

Crostini from mommiecooks.com

For the appetizer, my partner and I made tofu steak with persimmon coulis, sautéed oyster mushroom, and blanched string beans for garnish. For the entrée, we made warm beluga lentil salad with ricotta salata and spinach on a bed of grilled zucchini and green sauce (this was really brown lentils and crumbled tofu–the object of the exercise was not taste but appearance only, so we were able to pretend that one kind of food was really another). For dessert we had almond cake, chocolate sauce, chocolate sheets with pretty designs on them, custard from Egg class, nuts, and various fruits, and we could use any of these items as we wished. I scooped out the custard and mixed it with passion fruit and put it on top of a cake round. I then sliced and fanned out a strawberry, put it on top, and drizzled it with chocolate. Yum.

Of course, I forgot yet again to bring my camera so I have no photos of anything.

I got some beautiful baby lettuces to take home, which provided me with the base for a great salad that I had for two lunches. Below are the elements of my salad (plus a few suggestions, what I marked as “optional”). You can add or eliminate anything you like.

Lettuce-Chick Pea Summer Salad

This makes one very big dinner salad or two smaller lunch salads.

1 packed cup baby romaine
1 packed cup baby red leaf lettuce
¼ cup grated carrot
1 cup chick peas
1/3 cup walnut pieces or pecans
¼ cup shaved Parmigiano
¼ cup cooked quinoa
¼ cup cooked forbidden rice
¼ cup Kalamata olives (optional)
2 hard-boiled eggs, quartered
¼ cup corn (optional)
½ cup croutons (optional)
Honey-mustard dressing

Combine all ingredients, except the eggs, croutons, and dressing in a medium bowl and toss together. Sprinkle the croutons and lay the egg quarters over the top. Pour the dressing over the salad and enjoy. To bring this somewhere for lunch, combine the salad as instructed in a tight-sealing bowl and bring the dressing in a separate container. Add the dressing when you’re ready to eat.

Saturday, lunch and dinner were delicious. We got to roast up a lot of yummy veggies—including butternut squash, potatoes, parsnips, mushroom, and carrots, plus baked apples stuffed with walnuts and raisins. We braised shallots, fennel, and endive, and made some really good baba ganouj with seasoned pita chips. (We broke up into four groups to make all these items and, judging from the instructor’s comments, I think my group made the best baba!)

We also did an experiment with mashed potatoes. The four groups mashed up some potatoes, each group using a different implement: a hand masher, a ricer, a food processor, and a food mill. The rule of thumb about not using a food processor to mash potatoes proved true—that group wound up with gluey, nasty potatoes. All the others turned out pretty well.

On Wednesday, we had a food service lecture, which was an overview of place settings, how to serve, and the different styles of service. There are several different types of service: American, French, Russian, Wagon, Butler, Family Style, Buffet, and Fast Food/Cafeteria. The last three are obvious styles that everyone understands, but I didn’t know about the others.

These are the definitions of each style, in a nutshell:

American—Food is made completely in the kitchen and the server brings out finished food.

French—Food is partially prepared in the kitchen with final preparation done in front of guests.

Russian—Food is placed on a platter. Server then transfers the food from the platter to the guests’ plates.

Wagon—Server finishes preparation at the table. Almost like French but faster. Gives the illusion of French style. (Ex: carving the meat at the table, but no actual cooking). Also refers to the fact that food is brought out on a wagon for guests to choose from.

Butler—Combination of Russian and family-style serve-yourself.

Family Style—Large platters set on table; guests serve themselves.

Buffet—Food is prepared ahead of tine and served from steam tables.

Fast Food/Cafeteria—Self-service, pre-cooked.

Then we took a look at the different protein groups (where cooking is concerned)—that is, fish, poultry, ruminant meat (animals that chew their cud), non-ruminant meat (pigs), and dairy. It was a long night.

Anyway, I’m trying desperately to catch up on my sleep. Don’t ask me how or when I’m going to do that. So, that’s it for now. Have a great week.

For any of you having ghoulish gatherings and sinister soirees, there are lots of horrific recipes out there that will make your guests scream…or at least look twice at what they’re eating and drinking. Some good places to check out are…

Decayed Corpse Chips: Britta.com

Britta.com

Cooksrecipes.com

Halloweenrecipes.org

Scary Skulls: BHG.com

If you stopped by last week, you’ll know that I promised you a recipe for pumpkin ravioli. So, if classic cooking is more your thing, go with that, rather than the demonic creations suggested by these sites. You can use canned pumpkin for the ravioli but nothing beats the flavor of fresh pumpkin.

Here’s a tip: If you and/or your kids do any pumpkin carving, use the pumpkin that’s being removed from the jack-o’-lanterns.
I say this knowing full well that processing fresh pumpkin is a bit of a job. But if you’re up for it, here’s the step-by-step process. (P.S. Make sure everyone’s hands are clean when scooping out pumpkins. Also, wash the outside of the pumpkins and make sure the utensils being used are clean, too.)

Tombstone Brownies: BHG.com

1. If you’re starting with a whole pumpkin and it’s small enough to fit in your oven, bake it. Preheat the oven to 450 degrees and use a knife to poke holes all around the pumpkin (you don’t want that sucker exploding in your oven). Place it on a baking sheet and bake until you can pierce the pumpkin easily with a knife. The pumpkin may collapse and that’s okay. Remove it from the oven and let it cool. If the pumpkin is too big for your oven, cut it up and steam as instructed below.

If you’re starting with large pieces (cut from a jack-o’-lantern), cut them into chunks. Cut away the skins and fibers and put in a bowl; set aside. Place the chunks in a steamer rack and steam until soft.

2. Scoop or cut the flesh away from the skin. If it was baked, cut away the seeds and fibers and place in a bowl. Place some of the pumpkin flesh in a food processor and puree. You may need to nudge it with a rubber spatula now and then. If you need to add liquid, add as little as possible to get it going. Transfer to a bowl. Add the next batch, and so on, until all the pumpkin is pureed. Combing all the batches in the bowl.

3. Transfer the puree to a strainer set over a bowl. Cover and refrigerate overnight (or at least a few hours). If possible, give it a stir and let it sit in the refrigerator another day or two. It’s now ready to use in a recipe.

To Toast the Seeds:
Separate the seeds from the fibers. Discard the fibers and rinse the seeds in a strainer under cool running water. Drain well. Spread them out on a baking sheet. Sprinkle salt over them and stir. If you want, you can add seasonings to them, such as chili powder or cinnamon. Bake at 350 degrees until lightly browned.

Now, without further ado, here is Pumpkin Ravioli, courtesy of Recipeland.com. Note that I’ve changed the sauce from the original Pumpkin Seed Sauce to the more traditional Butter-Sage Sauce. Also, the recipe says to use canned pumpkin, but you can substitute your own freshly made pumpkin puree. Have a great weekend, everybody.

Pumpkin Ravioli

1 cup ricotta cheese
½ cup pumpkin canned
½ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon nutmeg
2 cups flour, unbleached all-purpose
½ teaspoon salt
1/4cup tomato paste
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 large eggs

Mix the cheese, pumpkin, 1/2 tsp salt and the nutmeg. Set aside.

Mix the flour, and 1/2 tsp salt in a large bowl. Make a well in the center of the flour. Beat the tomato paste, oil and eggs until well blended and pour into the well in the flour. Stir with a fork gradually bring the flour mixture to the center of the bowl. Do this until the dough makes a ball. If the dough is too dry, mix in up to 2 tbls of water.

Knead lightly on a floured cloth-covered surface, adding flour if dough is sticky, until smooth and elastic, about 5 minutes. Cover and let rest for another 5 minutes.

Divide the dough into 4 equal parts. Roll the dough, one part at a time, into a rectangle about 12 x 10 inches.

Drop the pumpkin mixture by 2 level tsp onto half of the rectangle, about 1 1/2-inches apart in 2 rows of 4 mounds each. Moisten the edges of the dough and the dough between the rows of pumpkin mixture with water. Fold the other half of the dough up over the pumpkin mixture, pressing the dough down around the pumpkin. Trim the edges with a pastry wheel or knife.

Cut between the rows of filling to make ravioli; press the edges together with a fork or cut with a pastry wheel sealing the edges well. Repeat with the remaining dough and pumpkin filling.

Place ravioli on towel, let stand turning once, until dry, about 30 minutes.

Cook ravioli in 4 quarts of boiling salted water (2 tsp of salt) until tender, about 10 to 15 minutes; drain carefully.

Serve the ravioli with the Butter-Sage Sauce spooned over.

Butter-Sage Sauce

8 tbsp (1 stick) butter
6 to 8 fresh sage leaves, minced
¼ tsp nutmeg

Melt the butter in a small pan. Over medium-low heat, let it sizzle until it turns brown. Add the sage and nutmeg and cook about 1 minute. Turn off the heat; keep warm until pasta is ready.

This week, I was on a lychee kick. An Asian market near where I work had bags of beautiful, colorful lychees and I simply had to have some. But other than eating them straight out of hand, I didn’t know what to do with them. They are yet another food item that I did not grow up with and only became familiar with at the end of some Chinese meals. So, I set out to find some good lychee recipes. But first, a little info…

What Are Lychees?

Lychees, also spelled litchis, are native to China. They’re a roundish tropical and subtropical fruit of the soapberry family. The outside rind is pinkish/reddish and is pliable but tough, and has a rough texture. This rind is inedible and must be peeled away. Underneath that rough skin, however, is a soft, juicy flesh that is unlike anything else. It’s sweet, with floral notes and an equally floral perfume, and creamy white with a slight translucence. Despite its softness, it’s also firm, which makes it ideal as both an eating fruit and a cooking fruit (where texture is desired). Beneath the flesh is a dark brown, hard pit, which can be germinated to grow a lychee tree. It’s particularly popular in China, parts of Southeast Asia, and India.

Okay, now that we know what it is, let’s cook with it!

Cooking with Lychees

I found a bunch of very interesting recipes, but my week was busy, so I focused on three: two beverages and a dessert.

The dessert was a Lychee Tapioca Pudding. It called for cooking tapioca pudding and adding the lychees to it. Now, I’m not that familiar with tapioca. Again, it’s not something common in Italian households. And the last time I had it was many moons ago. So, as tapioca puddings go, I’m not quite sure how it came out. It was very thick and sticky, which I don’t think it’s supposed to be. But the flavor was very fruity, although it could have used more sugar. This is it on the right.

The first beverage was Lychee-Coconut Frappe. This is made with coconut cream (not cream of coconut), lime, and, of course, lychees. These are pureed together in a blender, like a smoothie. It was mildly sweet with a decidedly tropical flavor. (It tasted like something I’ve had before, but I still haven’t been able to figure out what that is.) It was reminiscent of a piña colada, so I think adding some rum to it would be fabulous. I’m doing that tomorrow night.  Tonight it’s…

Lychee Margarita. That’s the second drink. Of the three recipes, I like this one the best. It’s like a margarita, but with a delicate fruity edge to it. Yum.

Lychees are a great source of vitamin C and other nutrients. According to Nutritiondata.self.com, 1 cup of raw lychees has 226% of the recommended daily allowance of vitamin C, or 135.8 mg (according to the USDA), as well as some calcium, phosphorus, copper, potassium, and B2 (riboflavin). They’re also high in something called polyphenol, which is an antiinflammatory and antioxidant. In China, they’ve been used to treat stomach ailments and as a source of nutrition to newborns; in fact, the Chinese have even used peeled lychees as pacifiers.

Aside from the fresh fruit, lychees are available canned. Like anything else that’s canned, the flavor is inferior to fresh lychees. But since the season for fresh lychees is summer (May, June, July, August), you may want to avail yourself of the canned stuff in other seasons. You can also find lychee juice, syrup, and puree on the market.

I’m going to get more lychees this week while they’re still around and try out some more recipes. Below is the recipe for Lychee Margaritas, from LycheesOnline.com. If you have a great lychee recipe, feel free to share it here. See you next week, everybody.

Peace

Lychee Margarita

1 cup lychee juice
1 cup lime juice (about 8 limes)
1 1/3 cup lemon juice (about 1 lemon)
½ cup water
2 tablespoons grated lime zest
1 tablespoon grated lemon zest
1 tablespoon grated orange zest
¼ cup sugar
3 tablespoons of salt
1 ½ cups tequila
1 ½ cups Triple Sec

Combine the juices, water, zests and sugar.
Bring to a boil over medium-high heat.
Simmer on low heat, stirring occasionally, for 10 minutes.
Rub the rims of your glasses with the leftover lime rind or lychees, then dip the rims in salt.
Fill the glasses halfway with ice.
Strain the juice thru a fine sieve into a pitcher or cocktail shaker.
Add the tequila, Triple Sec and crushed ice.
Stir or shake 30 seconds and strain into the glasses.

This past week, Melynda told me that she was going to be cooking for an impromptu wedding for her friend and that she would be making mehndi (henna tattoo) cupcakes instead of a wedding cake. I just about fell off my chair when I read that. And I thought, “Yes! That is what I want you to write about.” So, without further ado, here is my fabulous guest, Melynda Huskey, and her cupcakes.

Mehndi and Marigold Wedding Cupcakes

My life as a cook, which started in first grade with white sauce (and why?  I blame my maternal great-grandmother, a turn-of-the-century scientific homemaker whose brooding influence on our dusting, laundry-folding, and canning has not been one whit diminished by more than 40 years of death), has been always been punctuated by unpredictably intense states of obsession with achieving some perfect culinary object.  For five years I was a burden to my friends as I sought the perfect sugar cookie.   Before that, it was the perfect French Breakfast Roll (a sugar-and-cinnamon dipped muffin sacred to my childhood).  Sandwich bread.  Pie crust.  Jalapeno Creamed Spinach. One by one, I’ve nailed them, after arduous labor.

Except vanilla cupcakes.

I’m well known, in a small-town way, for my cupcakes. Everyone who has eaten my cooking has had a cupcake, and mostly, they’ve loved them.  Which would be great, of course, except that, honestly?  Not an achievement.  It’s just the soft tyranny of low expectations, to coin a phrase. Like a curly-headed child actor, all a cupcake has to do is show up in a cute outfit and wave.

But that’s not enough for me.  I want CUPCAKE.  Like this:  Perfectly mounded tops, with a sugary-crisp crust that yields to the teeth with just a hint of modest reluctance.  A moist, tender, clinging crumb, and a spongy, springy texture.  Yellow like a buttercup, a primrose, a bowl of thickly-clotted cream.  And with a fragrance of vanilla, butter, and first love.

The essence of cupcake.  It has eluded me for years. It has become my Holy Grail.

Three weeks ago, I found out that two dear friends had decided to get married, more or less on the spur of the moment—except they were going to have to do it at least twice, to accommodate everybody else’s physical, legal, and familial geography, and neither performance was going to suit them much.

“Come to our house,” I said. “We’ll have a nice picnic, Joan’s got her internet ministerial credentials, and . . .”

“You’ll make cupcakes??” asked the bride with a gleam in her eye, who once told a roomful of people that if I made cupcakes out of dirt, she’d be first in line to get one.

What else? Three weeks to the perfect cupcakes.  The happy couple had no wishes, although when I pressed her, the bride thought it would be fine if the cakes matched her outfit—turquoise and chocolate brown.

That was not enough for me.  These cupcakes needed to be perfect.  I wanted them to reflect the incredibly quirky, fraught, hilarious, geeky, adorable bride and groom, and their sweet, self-conscious devotion.  Somehow I wanted the cupcakes to contain every cool, weird, unpredictable thing that I love about these two.

Inspired by the bride’s gorgeous Indian silk stole, I settled on marigolds, the traditional Indian wedding flower, and turquoise-frosted cakes piped with bridal henna designs in chocolate frosting.  And the cake, snagged at the last moment from the King Arthur Flour website, uses a technique as off-center as my friends and as sweet.  Not perfect, but real—just like them.

Adorably Odd Vanilla Cupcakes (freely adapted from King Arthur Flour’s Golden Vanilla Cake)

Two hours or so before you want to make your cake, take out all the ingredients and line them up on the counter to reach room temperature.  When you start mixing the cake, preheat the oven to 350 F.

2 cups sugar
3 ¼ cups all-purpose unbleached flour
2 ½ teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
¾ cup (1 ½ sticks) butter
1 ¼ cups milk
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon high-quality bourbon
4 large eggs

Sift the dry ingredients into the mixer bowl.  On low speed, beat in the very soft butter.  It’ll look and feel like you could make a great sand castle with it. Pour in the milk, vanilla, and bourbon and mix at medium speed for one minute.

Add the eggs one at a time, beating thoroughly between each addition.

Fill your paper-lined cupcake tins about 2/3 full.  You should easily get 24 cupcakes.  I got 2 dozen plus an 8” square pan that the kids ate at snack time. Bake them about 20 minutes, but watch them carefully in the last few minutes.  Nothing is sadder than a dry, overbaked cuppie.

Frost however you like.

In my part of the country (New York), summer has been a fleeting thing the past several years. I remember the days when it was hot in May, and it would stay sunny and hot throughout June, July, August, and even September. Now, it’s cold and rainy through June, then we finally get some heat and sunshine in July. By September, it’s already cooling off. Just last week, New York experienced an unbelievable wind and rain storm that left hundreds of broken umbrellas lining the streets like blankets. And look what’s going on in the rest of the world: earthquakes, tsunamis, tornadoes. Global warming, people, is messing with us.

So, with the weather making us all crawl back inside and hibernate, my mind turns to the topic of comfort food. It’s funny how people consider many of the same things as comfort food.There are differences that have to do with the region or country you grew up in, the cultural make-up of your community, and your economic status growing up. (Of course, your heritage or nationality will play a huge role in this—someone who grew up in a Chinese household, for example, will have different ideas of comfort food than someone who grew up in an Indian household.)

Yet, despite these conditions, many things we consider comfort food in this country seem to be across the board: Mac ‘n’ cheese, anyone? What’s interesting is that restaurants are responding to this need for comfort food. One of the most prevalent crazes, in my opinion, of the past few years is the transformation of comfort foods into “gourmet cuisine.” Take that good ol’ mac ‘n’ cheese, for instance. Chefs are turning this favorite into a specialty by using different and/or multiple cheeses (sometimes expensive ones) or enhancing its depth by employing different cooking methods. And by adding new ingredients, chefs can change the flavor profile. Some green chiles will turn it into a Southwest dish; Indian spices will yield curried mac ‘c’ cheese; and use some shaved truffles for a decidedly French twist. In fact, you can add just about anything to macaroni and cheese to turn it into your own personal dish. I like the idea of veggies. If you’re a meat-eater, you can add ground beef, chicken, or turkey. How about shredded salmon or tuna? Mac ‘n’ cheese is pretty wide-open to interpretation. (I really wouldn’t add Reese’s Pieces or Skittles or anything like that, though.)

However, I must say at this point that because of my background—that is, my Old World Italian upbringing—mac ‘n’ cheese was not something I grew up with. So, while it has become the occasional comfort food for me, it’s really not the first thing I think of when I want something comforting . For me, it’s simple noodle soup or a grilled cheese sandwich.

How about you? I’d love to hear what you all consider comfort food. What do you turn to when you need a bit of warmth, comfort, and security? And if you can tell me why those particular foods, I’d absolutely love it. (I love finding out the origins of things, especially when it comes to eating habits.) So, please leave a comment. That would be awesome. In the meantime, here’s a recipe for Macaroni and Cheese with Proscuitto and Taleggio, from Bon Appetit, March 2002, and a recipe for Macaroni and Cheese with Garlic Bread Crumbs, Plain and Chipotle, originally appearing in Gourmet (R.I.P), December 1999. Enjoy!

Okay, everyone. Here’s hoping we’ve seen the last of winter nastiness, wherever you are, and that spring will arrive very soon. I think we all need it.

Ciao.

Anyway, on with the show.

This week,  I want to talk about appetizers. It’s a pretty broad subject, I know, but they’ve been a part of my daily existence for the past year. Allow me to explain.

My next cookbook is going to focus on appetizers, so almost every day I have been testing at least one appetizer. The thing is, when you’re testing a recipe, you have to test it exactly as it’s going to appear in the final recipe, including ingredients and quantities. In other words, if you’re developing a recipe for turkey chili with red beans and zucchini (yeah, zucchini.  so?), you can’t substitute pork and chick peas in the testing and then use cauliflower because they were out of zucchini at the market. Everything cooks up differently, at different times, with different results. You won’t know what your end product will be and that could cause dissatisfaction in your readers. Your recipes must work as written. Where quantities are concerned, again, you need to use the same quantities as stated in the ingredients list of the recipe, otherwise, you may end up with a different yield. So, your readers might be expecting 4 servings and end up with only 3, or 10. And not all recipes are amenable to being doubled or halved.

Why is this a problem for me? Because if I’m developing a recipe for appetizers, it’s going to be for at least 6 people. Appetizers can be fun and delicious, but I must say, one can only eat so many appetizers. It’s gotten so that I’m sick of my own food. I give away a lot of food. A lot. The other night, I asked a friend if he’d like to go get Chinese food. I couldn’t stand the thought of eating my own food again. I was already cooking a couple of things that night, mind you, but I just couldn’t bring myself to eat them. I finished cooking, packed it all up, and went out.

Don’t get me wrong. My food isn’t bad. In fact, if my family and friends are to be believed (not to mention my personal chef clients), I’m pretty good at this cooking thing. But sometimes I just need someone else’s food.

Anyway, back to appetizers. Appetizers have existed since ancient times. Here’s what I wrote about appetizers—or antipasti in Italian—in my cookbook, What, No Meat?:

One of the trademarks of an Italian meal is the antipasto (appetizers or hors d’oeuvres). Contrary to popular belief, antipasto does not mean “before the pasta.” It means “before the meal.” Pasto (meal) comes from the Latin word pastus, meaning “food.” The ancient Athenians actually invented the concept of appetizers; unfortunately for their guests, it was the only course they would serve. Other Greeks felt that this was a sign of cheapness because, as Lynceus put it, “such a layout as that may seem to offer variety, but is nothing at all to satisfy the belly.”

The ancient Romans began having true antipasto in the 3rd century B.C. and continued having this premeal course through the 4th century A.D. It included items that are still considered appetizers today, such as olives and a primitive pizza (think of the focaccia on the table at your favorite Italian restaurant).

During the Dark Ages, meals were more for sustenance than enjoyment, so antipasto had no place in it. During the Plague of the 14th century, one was lucky to get a meal at all, let alone appetizers. With the onset of the Renaissance, admiration for beauty and art was reborn and appreciation of food for its own sake reemerged. Appetizers came back in style and have remained with us to this day.

After I finish all this testing, I’m going on a diet. Maybe even a fast. Parties are fun, but parties every day become a bore (how does Paris Hilton do it, poor thing?). But I don’t want anyone to lose interest in the subject. Appetizers are creative little dishes that guests remember the next day and for days to come.

As Saki (writer H.H. Munro) wrote in “Reginald at the Carlton”:

Hors d’oeuvres…remind me of one’s childhood that one goes through considering what the next course is going to be like—and during the rest of the menu one wishes one had eaten more of the hors d’oeuvres.

Have a great week, everyone! And stay away from those viruses.

Let’s get drinking…

A while back, I made kumquatcello, based on the recipe for limoncello, except that I used kumquats. (The blog for that is HERE.) The resulting liqueur was unique and smooth, with a delicate citrus flavor, and it’s getting better as it ages.

I’d been wanting to try orangecello and I finally got a chance to do that. All you do is replace the lemon peels with orange peels. Right now, the orange peels are infusing the vodka, and in about a week or so, I’ll be finishing off the recipe. After that, it will sit for a month before I taste it.

I’ve also got a bag of naked oranges now. I’ll squeeze those for some fresh orange juice. I love that! Nothing compares to fresh-squeezed orange juice, no matter what the commercials say.

I’ll let you know how that goes. In the meantime, have a great week, everyone. And for those of you being hit by Arctic blasts, stay warm.

Peace