Salmon tartare with chives, lemon zest and horseradish cream, on toasted whole wheat.

Unlike ceviche where something acidic (e.g., citrus juice, vinegar) chemically cooks the protein, the tartare is served uncooked, like poke or carpaccio —so no acid is used, except in small amounts in the garnish. This recipe makes a generous amount to serve 2 people as a main dish, or 3 to 4 people as a starter.

I could try this with ahi, but it’s not one of my top choices. This kind of dish works with rich, oily fish, so I wonder which white fish would go well in a tartare…

For the tartare

• 6 to 8 ounces fresh, sashimi-grade salmon
• 2 to 3 tablespoons minced scallions, onions or chives
• 2 teaspoons olive oil, garlic oil, sesame oil or other flavored oil
• 1/2 teaspoon lemon or lime zest
• salt and pepper to taste
• (optional) minced basil, parsley or tarragon

Accompaniments

• chopped avocado with lime or lemon juice
• crème fraîche, yogurt, and/or mayo, mixed with horseradish, wasabi and/or mustard
• toast, crackers, chips

Method

1. Rinse the salmon under cold water and pat dry. Remove any skin or bones, then dice it into small pieces, about 1/4 to 1/2 inches.
2. Stir together the salmon, scallions (or other allium), oil and lemon zest in a bowl (preferably glass or ceramic).
3. Season with salt and pepper, add minced herbs if desired, then refrigerate for at least 30 minutes to let the flavors to infuse. Overnight is fine if the fish is particularly fresh.
4. When ready to serve, stir in the lemon juice and herbs, if desired. If using avocado, stir it in as well. If using a creamy sauce, apply dollops to each serving. Eat the tartare with something crunchy and/or toasty.

Shrimp salad with scallions, Thai basil and parsley, on top of toasted whole wheat bread.

Here’s a recipe I’ve improvised, based on shrimp. I’ve enjoyed eating this for lunch at home, as well as on a picnic in a park.

Mix in a bowl…

• 1 to 2 tablespoons mayonnaise or aïoli
• 1 to 2 tablespoons crème fraîche, sour cream or yogurt
• 1/4 to 1/3 cup minced shallots, onions, or thinly sliced scallions or chives
• 1 to 2 teaspoons mustard; Dijon style, horseradish or garlic flavored work nicely.
• 4 to 5 ounces cooked shrimp; chopped into smaller pieces if more than an inch long
• 2 to 3 tablespoons minced herbs, such as parsley, mint, basil, cilantro, etc. Lesser amounts of tarragon or thyme would be fine, too.
• ground pepper to taste
• (optional) lemon or lime juice, to further moisten the salad

Serving suggestions

• With chopped avocado and/or tomato
• On or with leaves of lettuce
• On bread or buns

Broiled eel over crisped rice, topped with nori and scallions. Okay, okay, the crispy part is on the unseen bottom of the pan.

(I don’t own a claypot (i.e., ceramic hotpot), and I’m too chicken to choose which of the many supposed “correct” ways to cook rice dishes in said container. Blame my confusion over the soak vs. not to soak and oven vs. stovetop camps of techniques. Blame my hesitation about direct flames on ceramic dishes and fear of a hot, food-filled container cracking and making a mess which would take a decade to clean away. As you could surmise, my web searches didn’t help much. So far. Advice welcomed.

The crispy rice goodness seems like a Japanese version of the Persian tahdig. I couldn’t find a decent definition for tahdig online, though. The Oxford Encyclopedia of Food and Claudia Roden’s New Book of Middle Eastern Food helped. Tahdig, a.k.a. tah dig or tahdeeg, refers to the crusty, often golden-brown rice at the “bottom of the pan,” its literal translation. In Persian and other Middle Eastern cuisine, these rice crunchies are a delicacy. In general, Japanese rice cookery discourages rice crusting —with the exception of kamameshi dishes, AFAICT.

As a pathetic consideration towards health (unagi is very rich and fatty), I’ve been using 70% polished brown sushi rice: the taste and texture are like white rice, but with more fiber and nutriment. Nijiya Markets sell organic sushi rice at 0%, 30%, 50%, 70% and 100% polished levels, with 0% as complete bran brown rice and 100% as white rice. Choices!

Regarding garnishes: I highly recommend adding scallions, to lend a bit of sharpness to cut through the eel’s unctuous nature. Btw, your pre-cooked unagi might come with a sauce packet (a.k.a., taré), which you might find useful.

Crispier version

I figured out the following method from the advice of a waitress at one of my favorite Japanese restaurants, to whom I send my hearty thanks! The trick is to heat up already-cooked rice in an oiled pan; no claypot needed.

Ingredients

• 1 tablespoon roasted sesame oil, plus a bit more for (re)broiling the eel.
• (optional) 1 teaspoon garlic infused olive oil
• 3 cups cooked sushi rice; leftover rice cooked in dashi or water works fine.
• 8 to 9 ounces broiled eel (defrosted if previously frozen)

Seasoned dashi & garnishes

• To make flavorful dashi, put the following in a small sauce pan and boil for 10 to 15 minutes:
  • 2 cups dashi
  • 4 tablespoons mirin
  • 2 tablespoons sake
  • 2 tablespoons soy sauce (I use a low sodium variety)
• taré, or the sauce packet from packaged unagi
• 3 or 4 scallions (green onions), both white and green parts sliced thinly
• crumbled or snipped nori
• shichimi togarashi (7-spice powder)
• sansho (ground green Japanese pepper)
• wasabi
• mild pickles, such as cucumber, cabbage or daikon

Method

1. Heat the sesame oil (and garlic oil, if using) in a non-stick (preferably) medium saucepan or skillet over medium high heat. Swirl to coat the bottom and as much of the pan’s sides (at least an inch high).
2. When the oil is hot (it should be shimmering), gently but firmly press the rice into the pan. Make sure it covers the bottom of the pan. You want to maximize the surface area of rice grains exposed to the oil in the pan —without having to stir, since no stirring occurs in order to encourage crust formation— but you don’t to densely pack it in to form a solid mass.
3. Heat until the rice is hot throughout, as well as browned on the bottom. This takes about 8 to 11 minutes.
4. While the rice is heating, oil a broiling pan in which you’ll cook the eel, skin side up. Place the eel in the oven (with a broiler setting), and broil until the skin bubbles. This takes about 7 to 8 minutes. Remove from oven when done.
5. Turn the heat off for the rice when it’s ready. Slice the eel and place on top of the rice; I serve it directly from the saucepan. Add garnishes (except for the seasoned dashi), stir everything together, and serve in bowls. Pour in some of the seasoned dashi at this point, if desired.

Softer one-pot version

As for the tahdig effect, this recipe is certainly not as crunchy as the above one. My rice cooker was built to avoid that, but having the sugars from mirin and soy sauce will cause some amount of browning. (I received giggles from a Japanese waitress when I described this.) Still, it’s a tasty one-pot meal, easily done in a pinch. So this recipe turns out to be an approximation, a compromise.

Feel free to add the unagi sauce packet contents to water, instead of the seasoned dashi. However, a sauce packet usually contains only a small amount (less than a tablespoon from what I’ve seen), so add a bit more dashi or water, about 1 or 2 more tablespoons, in order to avoid having too little liquid for cooking the rice.

Ingredients

• 1 cup uncooked sushi rice
• 8 to 9 ounces broiled eel (defrosted if previously frozen)
• 1 plus up to 1/2 cups seasoned dashi
• (optional) 1 packet of unagi sauce
• Any of the above garnishes

Method

1. Rinse the rice until the water is no longer cloudy (3 or 4 times). Place rice in rice cooker.
2. Slice eel into 3 or 4 pieces and lay them on top of the rice, skin side down.
3. In a measuring cup containing the dashi (or water), add the mirin and soy sauce (or sauce packet). Add additional dashi until the total volume is 1 1/2 cups. Stir then pour this over the eel and rice.
4. Cook according to rice cooker’s instructions. However, within the last 10 to 15 minutes of cooking, add the scallions; no need to stir yet.
5. When the cooker is finished, stir up the rice, eel and scallions. Serve in bowls and garnish as desired.

Inappropriate uses for dulce de leche: Spackling compound (too sticky). A treat for your cat (unhealthy). Ignored on the shelf (so sad).

Dulce de leche combines my love of soft caramel and my weird childhood hankering for evaporated milk. (What? It was creamy richness in a can. But the thought of boiling an unopened can of sweetened condensed milk (well, any kind of unopened can) raised fears of kitchen explosions and burns.

On the other hand, Mercedes provides (via David Lebovitz) a less hazardous method: (1) Open can and pour contents into a heat-proof dish. (2) Place foil-covered dish in a hot water bath. (3) Bake in 425ºF degree oven for 1 to 1 1/2 hours until nicely tanned. Three simple steps, woo!

After going through this a couple times, I learned that, yes, I do need to maintain the water level, so that it doesn’t dip much below the level of the milk in the dish. Otherwise, it curdles; still edible, but then I need to run it through a sieve. (Turns out I need only top off once or twice during the process.) In addition, a dish with a small base (like a glass bowl) will greatly increase the baking time (nearly 2 to 3 hours!). Try to find a dish with a broader base, like a pie dish (which took only a hair over 1 hour). More surface area is my friend, indeed.

So warm weather means pulling out the ice cream maker. With dulce de leche sitting in my fridge and Deb of Smitten Kitchen’s recipe in hand, how could I resist?

The joy of this ice cream recipe is that I didn’t need to make the usual egg custard. My Crazy Theory is that dulce de leche, with its thick almost gelatin-like texture, acts as an excellent custard substitute, thank ye very much.

I ended up making a half recipe of Deb’s formula, in a somewhat lazy fashion. I dumped half a pound of the sweet goodness directly into the sauce pan (with the scale, my savior), then poured in 1 cup whole milk and 1/2 cup heavy cream. (I omitted the vanilla and nuts.) I heated everything to scalding, whisking with a silicone whisk (another kitchen savior) into happy smoothness. Then my Usual Ice Cream method kicks in.

The result? I don’t have a photo because it looked…uh, beige. (Not terribly appealing, IMHO.) But the flavor and texture are spot on. Cooling for a hot day, with luscious caramel goodness. And I need to make another batch, because it’s all gone.

A rather short list of restaurants considered as enjoyable as rotting liver (2)

Hobee’s, throughout the Bay Area. One of the first things that pop into my head about Hobee’s is how much I hate the smell of their cinnamon tea, filling the rooms like nasty scented candles. The next thing that follows is how bored I get of their food, and how aggravating it is to stand and wait wait wait for a table of their uninspired food. A childhood and adulthood filled with Hobee’s, because that’s one of the few places both family and friends wanted to go. Over and over. Hobee’s doesn’t serve bad food, and they have admirable community-oriented standards. But I am not a morning person, and unless the food of the day’s first meal is remarkable in quality (or offers unusually interesting items like popovers or crêpes), I am loath to go out for breakfast or brunch.

Hunan Home, Los Altos. I just couldn’t find anything to enjoy eating here. Want another stir-fry disappointment over rice? No, thanks. In spite of being a Silicon Valley favorite, a place like this emphasizes how uninspired Chinese food could become. There are better Chinese eateries! (Try Café Yulong, Ming’s, Yank Sing, or even Chef Chu’s down the road.)

Il Postale, Sunnyvale. A downtown district ought to have at least a couple good restaurants. It saddens me that there are no decent Italian restaurants in downtown Sunnyvale. Gumba’s is mediocre, but at least the cost is low. Il Postale, however, truly frustrates. For an upscale place, their risotto and pasta were uninspired and felt like a chore to consume. The clincher for loser status was their bread: “Italian” bread whose flavor and texture reminded me of WonderBread. It turned out that the bread came from Wilson’s Jewel Bakery, a place whose cakes I found worse than Safeway’s. (For a place that failed at making either bread and cake, I shed no tears for Wilson’s closure.)

Suraj, Redwood City. Somehow the ingredients appear…old and stale. And I’ve gone there several times over the last decade. The chicken dishes frightened me, often tasting rancid. There are better Indian places: Dasaprakash, Shiva’s, etc….even the erratic service nightmare at Saravana Bhavan yields much superior comestables. Really. Let’s go somewhere else, please.

I generally don’t frequent chain restaurants. That is, defining those as part of a big corporate conglomerate (e.g., the Pizza Hut / Taco Bell / McDonald’s consumption mills). However, a few do stand out as vomitoria (3):

• The Olive Garden. Nastily salty food. Dishes described as vegetarian containing obvious lumps of meat. Slow service. True, I went here only once; but it was enough. This chain is an embarrassment to decent Italian restaurants (and home cooked meals of pasta and pizza) everywhere.
• Yoshinoya Beef Bowl. When Japanese food franchises go wrong. This one gets the prize for most nauseating appearance, smell and taste.
• The Cheesecake Factory. The odd bit was my first time at the Old Pasadena location: The wait was long (reservations not accepted), but the food wasn’t half bad. But since then, visits to the Cheesecake Factory have epitomized the travesty that is over-sweetened, cowardly blandified, obscenely huge servings of American cuisine (4). For example, they take a simple Southeast Asian dish such as salad rolls, and manage to render it unpalatable. They can’t even do cheesecake right. Their asinine no-reservation policy (unless that’s changed recently) doesn’t improve their image in my eyes, either.

References

1. Don’t take the above as aspersions on your tastes, of course. Opinions are good: After all, how would we find more and interesting things to eat? (Unless one dislikes food. Pity them.)
2. For the curious, much of this article originated from a restaurant list I had on my old website (circa 1998).
3. Not in the (misconceived!) ancient Roman “eat and party to exhaustion” sense. Rather, in the “Wow, I wasted my time, money and now I feel rather sick to my stomach” sense.
4. Obviously, not all American cooking falls under the OSCBGHS label. Much of it doesn’t, thankfully.

I don’t have recipes posted for all of these, but will add them as I find or write ‘em up.

Oh, we’re also not shy about eating leftovers, whether homemade or from take out. Praise freezing and refrigeration!

Savories

• BLT sandwich
• Caprese salad, or Caprese-style sandwich
• Cheese toasties, sometimes with added veggies like tomatoes or onions
• Chicken, roasted; sometimes use the bones in stock afterward
• Chicken sausages roasted with vegetables
• Chili spiced up with chocolate
• Eggs with toast, scrambled or soft-boiled
• Fish prepared in various ways:
  • Baked in a packet, whole or otherwise
  • Broiled, previously marinated or not
  • Pan-fried
  • Poached; great for making fish stock, too!
• Gyoza
• Hummus with chicken topping
• Kedgeree
• Moussakaa
• Pasta, usually with tomato, pesto or some creamy cheese sauce
• Pizza
• Posole
• Quesadillas
• Quiche
• Rice (usually leftover) topped with egg (usually fried) and veggies (usually leftover, again)
• Risotto
• Soups, often based on puréed vegetables
• Stuft vegetables
• Unagi (Japanese broiled eel) with rice
• Vegetables as sides, prepared in various ways:
  • Boiled: peas, beans, Brussels sprouts, potatoes, artichokes, etc.
  • Baked: sweet potatoes or nightshady potatoes
  • Sautéed: carrots, zucchini, chard, mustard greens, sprouts, etc.
  • Steamed: broccoli or cauliflower

Staples

• Apricot jam and chutney
• Bread
• Chicken stock
• Granola
• Some variant on boiled rice, e.g., with stock, herbs and/or spices

Sweets

• Apple galette
• Apple pie, sometimes topped with streusel (crumble)
• Chocolate chip cookies
• Crêpes
• Ice creams
• Orange cake
• Yellow cake or cupcakes with frosting

Drinks

• Hot chocolate
• Iced tea with mint and cardamom
• Soda lemonade
• Tea, British style, daily

• Injera, a teff based flatbread that’s sour, spongey and soft.
• A good collection of vegetarian dishes, such as kik alicha (yellow split peas), atakilt wot (stewed cabbage, potatoes and carrots), gomen wot (sautéed collard greens), and my favorite…
• …Yemisir wot, brown lentils simmered in a fiery red sauce!
• Yedoro tibs, chopped chicken (usually deboned) cooked into a rich, spicy red stew. Sometimes I’ll have a similar dish, doro wot, chicken on the bone stewed with whole hard-boiled eggs.
• Asa tibs or asa wot (fish stew), or shrimp tibs. Tricky to find a good version, if at all.
• Tej, a honey wine, often homemade or locally produced.
• Iyeb, homemade fresh cheese, reminiscent of a tart ricotta cheese.
• Tea, Ethiopian style, made with a spiced water.

Long waits seem to be an attribute universal to Ethiopian restaurants. Take it as an opportunity to exercise one’s conversational skills with one’s companions. Several places do take away, so perhaps I’ll call ahead to take a meal home, one of these days.

Two restaurants succeed in more respects than others: Zeni and Rehoboth, both located in San José. (Neither serve any seafood, though.)

Rehoboth. While scrumptious, the food here is milder than at other Ethiopian establishments. In fact, I wish they would be, I dunno, less shy or sheepish with the spices. But the waitstaff are warm and personable; this includes the owner, a sweet lady who alternates between cooking in the kitchen and waiting on us. Reservations are also taken, regardless of party size. The yemisir wot is earthier and smokier than Zeni’s. The yedoro tibs differs somewhat, too: more liquidy, more succulent, and with stunningly delicious savoriness. The kik alicha are more flavorful here, as is the gomen wot, which is less bitter and more palatable than at other places. No alcohol (as of this writing), so no tej to try. I enjoy how tea is served in a pot when 2 or more people order it. Occasionally the injera arrives slightly toasted, which I feel detracts from the soft texture; but that doesn’t happen too often. Metroactive review | Yelp reviews. Closed Monday.

Zeni. Spicier food than Rehoboth. The services is a bit more chaotic, but mostly friendly. Reservations aren’t accepted for parties of less than 6 or 8 people, and none are accepted at all on Friday, Saturday or Sunday. They have a wider menu, including sambussa, an Ethiopian analog to samosa, pastries filled with a mild mix of lentils and onions. Their addictive yemisir wot is sweeter and hotter than Rehoboth’s. The spicing in their yedoro tibs makes my mouth buzz and ring with delight. This is the only place where I’ve had doro kitfo made of finely minced chicken (kitfo is usually rare or raw beef mixed with spices); it sounds ingenious, and it might’ve turned out well if it weren’t so salty. Metroactive review | Yelp reviews. Closed Monday.

Other local Ethiopian restaurants

Blue Nile. Berkeley, CA. CLOSED. This was where I first experienced Ethiopian food and wine. While I have fond memories of this now defunct restaurant, I must admit that it was thoroughly Americanized. Their injera was made primarily of white wheat flour, and completely lacked teff (AFAICT) or any of the characteristic tart flavor.

Red Sea. San Jose, CA. I haven’t eaten here for years, mainly because the spice combinations are insanely inconsistent. The first time I had the fish wot, it was great, but another time it seemed like chicken bouillon cubes were added. (A shame since this is the only Bay Area Ethiopian restaurant I’ve found that serves any seafood.) Don’t bother with the weird dessert consisting of frozen mashed poundcake with juice; if you must have dessert there, just play it safe with the baklava. Yelp reviews

Shebele. Campbell, CA. CLOSED. This was the first authentic Ethiopian place I ate at, where injera was brown with teff and tasty like a good sourdough. They weren’t shy here with spices, either. The first time there, the service was painfully slow, but during later visits the service improved. As the years went by, sadly, the quality nosedived, ranging from erratic spicing to undrinkable water (i.e., tasting like bleach). Prolly no surprise that they decided to halt their business.

Not so local: Little Ethiopia on Fairfax Boulevard, Los Angeles, CA

I have barely scratched the surface of the many Ethiopian eateries on this 1-block stretch. Gridskipper has several reviews of Ethiopian restaurants in LA.

Nyala. When my friends and I first came here in the 1990s, it was a quiet place for a spicy, hands-on meal. These days it’s a lot more popular, and a bit less spicy (perhaps more Americanized?). They also serve shrimp and fish dishes. Yelp reviews

Messob. I haven’t been to Messob in many years, but to my recollection the spiciness was fun to revel in, whether with vegetables or chicken. Yelp reviews

And the toppings! How insanely I denounce sausage, pepperoni, salami, ham, pineapple, bell peppers and olives. “Criminy, what else is left? What could possibly remain to grace the surface of the best beloved savory pie?” Ah, many things. Such as chicken, cheese and chutney.

I’d love to hear about your favorite unusual, unconventional (yet tasty) pizza toppings!

The dough I used was half of the basic bread recipe, which yields a more or less 12-inch pizza.

Ingredients

• pizza or focaccia dough, defrosted if previously frozen
• 3 to 4 tablespoons chutney (such as apricot, tamarind, plum or apple), or onion confit or shallot spread
• 1 1/2 to 2 cups shredded cheese, such as Monterey Jack, Mozzarella or Gruyère. (As much as I love Cheddar, it tends to separate into oily curds at this heat, instead of melting in a stringy-smooth fashion.)
• half an onion, 2 cloves shallots, or 2 scallions (green and white parts), thinly sliced
• 1 1/2 to 2 cups cooked chicken, shredded or chopped into bit-sized pieces

Method

1. Heat oven to 475F degrees. If using onions or shallots, sauté briefly in olive oil until translucent.
2. Roll out the dough to as thinly as possible, about a 1/4 inch thick. Or less, if the dough’s stretchy nature permits. Place this on a pizza pan or baking sheet.
3. Thinly spread the chutney (or confit). Top with the cheese, then onion (or shallots or scallions), topping off with the chicken.
4. Bake in the lower third of the oven, close-ish to the bottom heating element. When the crust of the pizza has started to brown and pull away, and when the cheese is bubbly and chicken browned on the edges, it’s done —about 11 to 15 minutes. Slice and serve quickly.

Update: Alternative wacky toppings

• smoked chicken
• cooked or smoked shrimps
• cooked bacon
• chile pepper sauce, especially if it’s tart, hot, sweet, and not too watery

Three cookbooks aided me in my rediscovery of bread making:

• Bread, by Eric Treuille and Ursula Ferrigno, for ideas on weight proportions in the British edition of the publication. A beautiful D.K. book, catering to my visual food porn desires. Also contains intriguing suggestions on crazy flours and grains to experiment with. I have the earlier 1998 UK edition; I haven’t seen whether the more recent 2007 US edition would include weight measurements.
• Cookwise, by Shirley Corriher, for tips on kneading by machine and sponge development (a.k.a., pre-fermentation). She goes a bit too crazy with a multitude of ingredients for just a basic loaf, but it’s still informative and interesting reading. Especially the fact that the sponge step doesn’t always require hours or days!
• Joy of Cooking: 75th Anniversary edition, by Rombauer, Rombauer-Becker and Becker. The basic white bread recipe satisfies with a small number of straightforward ingredients. But far too much salt! (That was easy to fix, though.)

I use weight measurements for the flour. This is much more reliable for me, since I’m terribly inconsistent with handling flour by volume: scooping with a spoon or cup, remembering (or not) to level with a knife, remembering (or not) to avoid shaking it down to level, etc. Really, a scale is both convenient and easier to use. If I had to guess at the volume I use, I’d say somewhere between 3 1/2 and 4 1/2 cups of flour. See? How could I have confidence (or trust) in such a wide range, where it could mess up the bread’s texture? At least when it comes to baking.

I have yet to use a bread machine (although I wouldn’t mind trying one out), but my mixer helps with the mixing and kneading. If I knead by hand, it takes me about 8 to 10 minutes to obtain the nice gently sproingy texture. (Compared with the 5 to 7 minutes in the mixer.) I notice that I do use more flour with the manual method, out my semi-conscious desire to avoid sticky stuff on my hands. But then I sometimes end up with a drier dough, with weird, stiff streaks in the baked loaf. (Hmm, I could weigh out what I use for kneading by hand…er, maybe later, when I’m in a more scientific, less impatient mood.

Using the mixer is tidier, too. The best speed seems to range with the model. For my smaller, home-sized one, a speed between 2 and 3 worked. (I have a 9-cup tilt-head KitchenAid stand mixer of the Artisan series.) Any setting at 4 or higher resulted in the dough crawling up the hook, with frequent stops to scrape it off. I shouldn’t need to scrape dough off the hook or down the bowl more than once or twice.

This recipe makes enough for two small loaves or two 12-inch pizzas. Here I focus on making focaccia or bread loaves for sandwiches. I’ll upload a pizza recipe in a few days, and perhaps a future article on using additional, non-wheat flours.

If you’re planning ahead, you can place the dough after the first long rising in plastic zip bags and freeze. It ought to remain good for a few weeks in the freezer. To use, defrost in the refrigerator overnight, or at room temperature for at least 3 hours, then proceed with shaping.

Ingredients

• 18 ounces (1 pound + 2 ounces) high-protein all-purpose unbleached white flour; I’ve used flours by King Arthur and Bob’s Red Mill. Bread flour is great, too; either way, try to find a wheat flour with at least 11% to 12% protein.
• 1 1/2 cups warm water, at 110F to 120F degrees
• 1 tablespoon sugar, divided (added at different stages)
• 1 packet dry active yeast; I’ve recently used SAF’s Gourmet Perfect Rise Yeast (available at Trader Joe’s) with success.
• 1 1/2 to 2 teaspoons salt
• 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus extra for the rising bowl; feel free to use a milder oil, if you prefer, like safflower oil.

Focaccia toppings

• Sautéed slices of onion, shallots or garlic
• Herbs dredged in oil, such as basil leaves, rosemary, thyme, etc.
• Or plain, which makes for yummy sandwiches when sliced horizontally

Method

1. Place half the flour and half the salt into the bowl of your mixer.
2. Dissolve 1 teaspoon of the sugar in the warm water, then sprinkle in the yeast. Wait a few minutes to watch for bubbles, ensuring that the yeast is alive. Pour this into the bowl. If my yeast has been recently purchased, I tend to skip this proofing step and dump it directly into the mixer, followed by the warm water and 1 teaspoon sugar.
3. Using the paddle attachment, mix at low then medium speed until everything is incorporated, usually just a minute or so. If needed, scrape down the bowl in the middle of mixing.
4. Remove the paddle, and allow the batter to develop a sponge: Cover the bowl with a towel and set aside for 30 to 90 minutes. In the meantime, lightly grease a large bowl for the long rise.
5. To the sponge, add the remaining flour, salt, sugar, and 2 tablespoons olive oil.
6. Insert the hook attachment. Mix at low speed (setting 1 or just below 2) until well incorporated, scraping down the sides of the bowl once, if needed.
7. Start the kneading process by increasing the speed to low-medium (setting 2 or 3). Knead for about 5 to 7 minutes, until the dough is smooth and elastic. (I found that less time is needed for higher protein bread flours, else they result in a rubbery or stiff baked product.) It should spring back slowly after being poked.
8. Scrape the dough into the greased bowl. Turn the dough over to lightly coat it with oil. Cover with a towel and set aside to rise for 1 to 2 hours in a warm place, until doubled in size. Alternatively, if you’re gonna be busy, let the dough rise for a longer period in the ‘fridge, with the bowl covered with plastic wrap —anywhere from 4ish hours to overnight.
9. Punch down the dough, and let it rest for 10 to 15 minutes. At this point you could freeze it for later use, or shape it.
10. Shape into a loaf for focaccia or sandwich bread. I tend to end up with oval, circular or vaguely squarish-shaped forms about 3/4 to 1 inch thick, or thinner for focaccia, which I place on a silicone or parchment paper lined baking tray. But feel free to use an oiled pan instead.
11. Do a second long rise for 1 to 1 1/2 hours. Again, cover with a cloth and keep in a warm place. During this step start preheating the oven to 400F degrees.
12. For a plain loaf, slash the top with a sharp, clean razor, to provide expansion during baking. For a focaccia, go ahead and do that finger-dimple-thing before adding toppings, if you want. I don’t do this because prefer avoiding the annoying dense spots which could result. (Perhaps thinner pokes with a razor would be better?)
13. Bake the bread in the oven until the surface is golden, about 25 to 30 minutes. You should also hear a hollow sound when tapping the loaf. Cool for at least 30 minutes before slicing and consuming.

The Salvadoran version of horchata is the next-most-important thing. I still don’t think I’ve got the recipe quite right, so that’s another item I always order at Salvadoran restaurants.

My favorites (best listed first) are a tie between Vicky’s and Sabor. My standard order is chicken (with cheese), beans (with cheese), loroco (with cheese) or even zucchini (with cheese). Curtido (pickled cabbage slaw, sometimes with chile, carrots, oregano and/or epazote) and (non-spicy) tomato sauce accompany the pupusas. (I have yet to find a tomato-sauce-for-pupusas that I enjoy. Unfortunately, they all seem bland, almost like tomato soup or sauce from a can.)

What are your favorite (or not-so-favorite) pupuserías? Especially those with interesting or unconventional fillings. Have any of you tried rice pupusas?

Most of these restaurants don’t have their own website, so I link to reviews from other sites as an additional resource. An important note about ordering pupusas: Be prepared to wait if you want them cooked properly. The masa is significantly thicker than in tortillas, so undercooking would result in something raw and unpleasantly starchy.

Vicky’s Salvadoran & Mexican Restaurant, San José, CA. Crisp on the outside, tender and moist on the inside. The ideal pupusas, the cook somehow manages to maintain some of the chicken sauce (marinade?) without the masa going soggy. Yelp reviews

Sabor Salvadoreño, a.k.a., the Pupusa Factory, Santa Clara, CA. Best horchata, ¡la mejor!, out of all the places mentioned here, with a nutty almost spicy goodness. Like Vicky’s, their pupusas have some the best texture and flavor combinations, perfectly cooked. Metroactive review | Yelp reviews

La Bamba, Mountain View, CA. No chicken or zucchini here, so I settle for the bean, loroco or cheese-only ones. Tasty, but somewhat greasier than Vicky’s or Sabor’s. Another reason to come here is for their alfajores, butter-cookie sandwiches filled with caramel (or dulce de leche?). Failure to obtain a sufficient quantity of alfajores could result in arguments between otherwise close friends. Note: I’ve had food from only their original restaurant on Old Middlefield Way; I’ve yet to try out their new place in downtown Mountain View. Yelp reviews

El Calderón, Mountain View, CA. This place is…okay. They don’t have much variety in the pupusa fillings, so I’m faced with only plain cheese, or cheese and beans, as choices. It’s not bad…just not compelling. Yelp reviews

Grumble…

Amelia’s Restaurant, Redwood City, CA. Hmm, the last time I tried their cheese pupusas, they exceeded my tolerance of grease and hunks of dripping cheese. This meant piling on more and more of the curtido, which ended up both hiding and missing the point of the pupusa. But that was over a decade ago, and friends tell me they now have ones filled with chicken and cheese. This will require further investigation and consideration, you understand. Yelp reviews

Donut Field, Mountain View, CA. It was odd to see a pupusería inside of a donut shop, but there you go. I’ve been here only once, and sadly I’m hesitant to go again. Getting bones in both of the two chicken pupusas disturbed me. Yelp reviews

Recently I made a quinoa salad with similar ingredients: Juice for tartness, olive oil, shallots, prunes, apricots, pine nuts, mint, cilantro… The use of conjunctions in this salad exhibits its inherent variety. And you’re likely to end up with something quite tasty.

Quinoa salad with pine nuts, leftover chard, and a bunch o’other things.

If this isn’t served cold or at room temperature, does this mean it’s a kind of pilaf? According to the definitions I’ve seen, pilaf is usually made from rice or bulgar wheat that’s usually been browned in butter or oil. So I’ll stick with the salad label.

Using couscous

• 2 cups whole wheat couscous: Use the small or regular granular size, not the bigger pearl one (a.k.a., Israeli) size.
• salt, to taste
• 1 to 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
• 1 1/2 cups boiling water

1. Put the couscous and salt in a large, heat-proof bowl. Stir in the olive oil so the couscous is evenly coated. This will help reduce clumping as it absorbs the water.
2. Pour the hot water over the couscous, stir a little bit, then place a plate (or plastic wrap) on top. Let it sit about 15 to 20 minutes to absorb the water.
3. Fluff up and stir the couscous with a large spoon or fork. Proceed to the flavor, color and texture section.

Using quinoa

• 1 cup quinoa
• salt, to taste
• barely 2 cups water

1. Rinse the quinoa under cold water until the water is clear. This gets rid of the bitter saponin coating on the grains. Two or three times ought to do it.
2. Using the power that is the rice cooker, place the quinoa, water and salt in it and cook…until done. For my crazy Neuro-Fuzzy device, the “brown rice” setting works nicely.
3. When done, the germ on the quinoa grain expands outward as a cute spring. Fluff and stir, and dump into a large bowl. Continue onward.

Flavor, color & texture

• Choose an allium: 1 small sweet onion, 2 to 3 scallions (green and white parts), 2 cloves of shallots, or 3 cloves of garlic, finely chopped.
• (optional) 1 tablespoon orange, lemon or lime zest
• 1/4 cup orange, lemon or lime juice
• 1 to 2 teaspoons honey, if using lemon or lime juice
• 1 to 2 tablespoons rice vinegar; do try other vinegars —the rice one is milder, less likely to clash with the other items.
• 2 to 4 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil; a small portion of this could be garlic infused oil (use an onion, scallions or shallots instead of garlic cloves, in that case).
• Optional spices: 1/4 teaspoon ground coriander, ground cumin, turmeric, cinnamon, or some combination thereof.
• Possible fruit to add: 1/2 to 3/4 cup dried fruit, such as prunes, raisins, dried apricots or dates; chop larger fruit into smaller bits.
• Possible vegetables to add: 1/2 to 3/4 cup zucchini or cucumber, cored and diced; fava beans or diced carrots, already cooked; peas or corn, lightly cooked; diced tomatoes. Really, most any surplus or leftovers would do, if chopped into small enough pieces.
• 1/2 cup roasted pine nuts or slivered almonds
• Possible fresh herbs to add: 2 to 3 tablespoons finely minced mint, cilantro, parsley, chives, basil, or some combination thereof. You could also add tarragon or thyme, but since they’re stronger, use 1 to 2 teaspoons, finely minced.
• Freshly ground pepper, to taste

Assembly

1. In a sauce jug or bowl, mix the allium, zest (if using), juice, honey (if using), vinegar, olive oil and any ground spice you decide to use. Start with the smaller amount of the liquids, since the moisture level of the salad might vary with the various ingredients you add. Stir it into the couscous or quinoa.
2. Stir in fruit and veggies. Add more juice, vinegar or oil if the salad seems too dry. At this point it’s fine to let the salad sit overnight in the fridge.
3. Before serving, stir in the nuts and herbs. Adjust pepper and salt levels. Serve chilled, at room temperature, or even warmed.
4. Leftovers happily survive refrigeration over the next day or two.

It’s very tart and somewhat sweet —prolly nowhere near as sharp as unsweetened passionfruit purée. It reminds me of sour cherry syrup, but less sweet and lacking the almond-y flavor stone fruits can have.

But what are some good recipes for pomegranate molasses? I did a little brainstorming (list below), but not much experimenting beyond the chicken sauce and soda flavoring. I’d love to hear about your recipes with it!

• Chicken sauce made with pan drippings, a bit of water, and leftover white wine; emulsified with heavy whipping cream or crème fraîche.
• Pour over yogurt, ice cream, toast, waffles or pancakes.
• Flavor ice cream, frosting, or puddings.
• Topping for fruits and vegetables.
• Add to marinades or salad dressing. Or, schmear over chicken or seafood. Hmm, perhaps I could substitute some of the lemon juice in the yogurt marinade next time.
• Garnish hummus or other dips. Update: Hm, not so great with the former; better to use raisins as the sweet-tart additive there.
• Drinks: hot chocolate, seltzer water, alcoholic concoctions. Not very pretty with clear or translucent drinks, as it gives the liquid a brownish beer tone.

Hazelnut products aren’t too popular around here (defined as California, United States), which is sad. It’s more difficult to find things like hazelnut pastes and butters. One time I purchased some hazelnut butter, I think it was Kettle brand. Very disappointing: full of nut skins (hey, they remove the skins off nuts for peanut butter and almond butter; I expect no lesser standards) and gritty, not creamy.

A couple years ago, though, I found a rather expensive (at Whole Foods, unsurprisingly) jar of hazelnut praline spread from Spain, produced by Matíz in Andalucía. (Praline means caramelized sugar added, in contrast to the usually unsweetened nut butters.) More recently I’ve found the same available online, although not quite as outrageously priced. And even more recently, I learned about a New York company, American Almond, who produces hazelnut and pistachio pastes (in addition to almond paste) under its Love’n Bake brand. Interestingly, the domestic Love’n Bake stuff is more expensive than the imported Matíz stuff. Go figure.

Anyhow, I got myself a couple jars of the Matíz spread. What to do? Make frosting for cakes, of course! (If anyone has used the Love’n Bake pastes, I’d love hear your thoughts on its quality.)

This frosting turned out to be more like a ganache than a buttercream. Because of its oiliness (ground up nuts, y’know), I had to add more confectioner’s sugar to it compared with the mocha and chocolate frostings. Since this makes the frosting stiffer, I added more cream to make it spreadable.

Yields a whole lot, more than enough for a two-layer 9 inch cake.

The unavoidable next question: What’s the best way to use this praline spread to make hazelnut ice cream…?

Ingredients

• 1 cup hazelnut praline spread; this was the approximate amount from 1 jar of the Matíz brand, which weighed 9.8 ounces (280 grams).
• 4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) unsalted butter
• 1/2 to 3/4 cup heavy whipping cream
• a pinch of salt
• 6 ounces confectioner’s sugar, sifted

Method

1. Over low heat in a sauce pan, stir the hazelnut praline spread, butter, 1/2 cup of cream and salt until melted and free of lumps. Pour into a food processor.
2. Add the confectioner’s sugar to the food processor, then whirl until smooth. If you notice oil still separating out from the mixture, add more confectioner’s sugar. I also added another 1/4 cup of cream so that it wouldn’t be too stiff to spread, but add more if you want a softer frosting. It does firm up more as it cools.
3. Spread over layers of cake, or cupcakes.

Adding a bit of acid, i.e., vinegar, made a lot more curds form. Really, dramatically more. More than twice as many curds as last time. This cheese was somewhat firmer and more squeaky. I was relieved that it didn’t taste or smell vinegary at all; its flavor was only slightly tarter (less tart than store-bought cottage cheese), yet still milky-sweet.

Fresh, unripened cheese, in small curds form.

After draining for 10 minutes, I got a roundish, cheesecloth-textured lump of, well, cheese. I decided to mash it up, to effect smaller curds, and make it more spoonable. On the surface it looks like cottage cheese, but its texture is much more like ricotta.

With a little honey, this makes a yummy snack. I think it might also work as a topping for cereal. I’m sure it’ll be fine in macaroni and cheese. It looks spreadable, too. Hm, I wonder if I could emulate Boursin by adding some herbs and whisking in some cream. Would it convince my Boursin-loving friends?

Ingredients

• 1/2 gallon whole milk (organic, pasteurized but not ultra-pasteurized)
• 1 quart lowfat buttermilk (organic, pasteurized but not ultra-pasteurized)
• 1 to 2 teaspoons of distilled vinegar (a.k.a., white vinegar)
• salt, to taste

Method

1. Mixed the whole milk and buttermilk in a non-reactive, heavy-bottomed stock pot.
2. I let this sit overnight at room temperature. I might skip this step in the future, since I didn’t notice any curds or other changes appearance or smell.
3. Popped a thermometer into the pan, and put over a medium flame. Waited ’till temperature reaches 175F degrees. While heating, restrained self from stirring…erm, I did so twice: First, at the beginning to break up the cream that had floated to the top from non-homogenized milk sitting overnight. Second, when I heard a gurgling noise as it approached the target temperature (thankfully, no burning, and the stirring quieted things).
4. While heating, busied self by lining a strainer with 4 to 6 layers of cheesecloth. Set it over a large bowl (in the sink would work, too).
5. Turned off the heat when 175F was reached. I lied, and for the third time I stirred; actually, scraped the floor of the pan with a spatula to loosen any sticky curds. There were (still only) a few curds floating about at this point.
6. Stirred in the vinegar. FWOOMPF. More curds materialized! The liquid went from milky white to a clearer pale yellow. Do not fear this color.
7. Scooped the curds into the lined strainer. Hastened the draining somewhat by pulling upwards at the edges of the cheesecloth, but really, I could’ve just let it sit for about 10 to 20 minutes (or more for a firmer cheese). I then added a shake of salt, and stirred as I transferred it to a bowl. Yielded about 2 1/2 to 3 cups.

Tonight’s version was based on the creamy baked mac-and-cheese by Deb of Smitten Kitchen. The main draw was the avoidance of both pre-cooked pasta and cheese sauce preparation, simplifying the recipe. Since I can’t keep my paws away from meddling, there are some… cunningly familiar ingredients.

So how did it compare? Well, other than our desire for a better grating box-tool-thing, it turned out deliciously. (Not to mention the unloved oversized soufflé dish which had finally found a purpose.) While it didn’t have as Precious a top crust as last year’s model (i.e., more chewy than crunchy), it was incredibly creamy and saucy, you minx of a gratinéed pasta dish.

Leftovers exist. How shall they behave during tomorrow’s lunch? Watch this space to find out. Update (30-Jan-2008): The mac’n'cheese was tasty, but yesterday the cheese sauce separated. Then again, I had that with other versions of this, as well as with alfredo and other cheesy-creamy pasta dishes. After pondering the separation mystery, I found that the interwebs suggested adding a bit of milk or cream and slowly reheating. Indeed, the creamy sauce returned today (using whole milk), while mooshing it gently in a saucepan over medium heat.

Somewhat modified items

• 1 onion, finely chopped and sautéed in garlic oil; I threw in some leftover white wine and ground coriander as well (latter two are both optional).
• 1 cup of fresh, unripened cheese, like ricotta or cottage cheese
• a dash of cayenne pepper
• freshly grated pepper, to taste
• salt, to taste
• 2 cups whole milk
• 15 ounces shredded cheese: I used mostly cheddar (a sharp Irish one called Dubliner) along with some leftover Monterey Jack.
• 8 ounces tubular pasta (uncooked!)
• 1 ounce grated Parmesan Reggiano

I more or less followed Deb’s preparation: Stir everything but the 1 ounce of Parmesan, plop into a greased ceramic dish, cover with foil and/or lid, and bake in 375F oven for 40 minutes (needed a bit longer). Then, uncover, sprinkle with Parmesan, pop back into oven for another 40 minutes until browned. It’ll come out bubbling madly, so let it settle down for a few minutes, outside of the oven, before tucking in.

(*)Here defined as someone who has only purchased cheese, never made it. Not meant as derogatory, just as an observation.

Well, things didn’t go as I had hoped. I estimated that with half a gallon of milk plus a pint of buttermilk (mostly following Heidi’s recipe), I’d get about a pint of cheese. Nuh-unh. Barely got a cup out of it. What went wrong? Perhaps I stirred too much? Perhaps the buttermilk wasn’t acidic enough? Or, gasp, perhaps the bacterial beasts in the buttermilk were mostly dead?

Anyhow, what about the texture and flavor? It’s somewhere between a large curd cottage cheese and ricotta cheese; not too creamy, but I did drain it overnight on purpose. (It’s destined for macaroni and cheese tonight.) But, oh, it smells like butter! It has a sweet, milky flavor. And it squeaks.

So rather than giving up, this fresh, unripened cheese will be a work in progress. Although I’m still going through some sticker shock: with such a small yield, cheese shows how expensive milk is! Here are the ingredients I used for this cheese beta:

• 1/2 gallon whole milk, pasteurized but not ultra-pasteurized. I used an organic cream topped milk from Trader Joe’s, which I believe comes from Straus Creamery.
• 1 pint buttermilk, again pasteurized but not ultrapasteurized. Another Trader Joe’s purchase, a lowfat variety from Rockview Farms.

…And in the future to try out:

• Let the milk and buttermilk sit together at room temperature for a few hours.
• Add some neutral vinegar to the milk and buttermilk.
• Add some rennet to the milk and buttermilk.
• Play with fromage blanc culture ordered online.
• Add a wee bit of salt, just to open up the flavor.

Have you tried making cheese at home? What advice and stories would you share?

This dish is great for parties and barbeques. Leftover chicken works well, too, especially when shredded for sandwiches or salads.

Chicken & marinade

• 2 large (or 3 small) boneless and skinless chicken breasts, gristle removed and sliced into 1 inch wide strips for grilling or broiling. For sautéing, chop into smaller pieces no more than 1/2 thick and 3/4 inch long.
• 1 small onion, chopped into a small dice
• 2/3 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice
• 2 bay leaves, torn in half
• 1 tablespoon honey
• 1 to 2 tablespoons garlic oil; alternatively, use 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil plus 1 to 2 tablespoons finely minced garlic.
• 1 to 3/4 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1/2 teaspoon ground coriander seed
• 1/2 teaspoon turmeric
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 to 1/8 teaspoon ground allspice
• 1/4 to 1/8 teaspoon ground cloves
• a generous pinch of saffron threads, steeped in 2 tablespoons of hot water for 5 to 10 minutes
• 1/2 cup plain yogurt

Accompany with

• lavash or pita bread
• basmati rice or pilaf
• hummus
• dried sumac berry powder
• chopped parsley
• chopped mint
• chopped or grilled (or broiled) tomatoes
• more lemon juice
• pickles

Method

1. Mix the chicken and marinade ingredients in a large glass or ceramic bowl. Place in refrigerator and marinate for at least 6 hours, preferably overnight; the lesser time is okay for smaller pieces used for sautéing. Stir the contents two or three times during marination.
2. To broil in an oven, place the drained chicken pieces in a greased heat resistant dish about 2 inches away from the broiler element at the top of the oven. Broil for 6 to 10 minutes, then turn over the pieces, and broil again for another 6 to 10 minutes.
3. To grill, thread the drained chicken pieces onto kebab skewers (preferably metal). Cook over coals or gas until done, roughly 15 minutes.
4. To sauté, drain the liquid, and stir fry the chicken and onions in a pan over medium high heat. Optionally add nuts and/or raisins, described in my hummus article. Cook until the remaining liquid evaporates. The marinade makes the chicken tender, so feel free to crush the chicken with a spoon or spatula.
5. Garnish and serve with desired accompaniments.

Mocha frosted on the left, with coffee bean; choco-frosted on the right.

My search was brief yet successful: Shuna Fish Lydon’s excellent yellow cake and chocolate frosting recipes became the impetus for me to finally make cupcakes topped with chocolate. (Here I applaud cooks and food writers like Lydon who list their ingredients by weight rather than volume, which greatly aids in measuring tricky powdery substances (flour, confectioner’s sugar) and lumpy items (butter). Now if everyone would just standardize and use metric consistently, including myself. :-|) I pretty much followed her cake recipe (which yielded two dozen happy cakelets), except that I substituted buttermilk for the whole milk. And for some reason my cupcakes took 25 to 27 minutes at 350F to bake, rather than 12 to 14 minutes. (Every oven, Lydon points out, has its quirks, of course.)

Lyndon’s frosting is more like a soft ganache in texture, somewhat firmer compared with buttercream frosting. However, you can make it softer by adding more cream after blending in the confectioner’s sugar. I fiddled a bit with the recipe, though, and also made a mocha version. This variation makes a generous amount for a dozen cupcakes, or a single layer (8 or 9 inch) of cake —about 1 1/4 to 1 1/2 cups.

Update (12-March-2008). Added info below for using liquor flavorings. Great for lovers of Grand Marnier, Royal Chambord, rum, etc.

Ingredients for chocolate frosting

• 3 ounces of semisweet or bittersweet chocolate, with at least 60% cocoa content; Guittard’s is just swell here.
• 4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) unsalted butter
• 1/2 cup heavy whipping cream, or crème fraîche; add more for a softer frosting.
• a pinch of salt, to taste
• 4 ounces confectioner’s sugar, sifted

Mocha frosting

• only 1 ounce bittersweet chocolate
• 2 to 3 tablespoons coffee beans, roughly chopped as seen here.

Liquor based flavors

You can also add 2 to 3 tablespoons of your favorite liqueur. For example, 2 1/2 tablespoons of Grand Marnier was just poifek, strong yet still chocolately. If you do this, don’t use more than 1/2 cup of cream initially, or the frosting might get too liquidy. If you do want it thinner, though, whisk in additional cream after adding the liqueur.

Method

1. If you’re making the mocha flavor, heat the cream until scalding and stir in the coffee beans. Steep for about 5 to 10 minutes, then proceed with step 2.
2. Place the cream (or coffee cream mixture), butter, chocolate and salt in a small saucepan. Stir over medium heat until the butter and chocolate have melted; remove from heat. If making the mocha frosting, filter out the coffee beans with a fine-meshed strainer. Ultra-sekrit cheating: Place the chocolate, butter and cream into a microwave-proof bowl, and zap in 30 to 20 second bursts, stirring and whisking in between. Keep an eye on it to avoid scorching or bubbling over (which also applies to the stovetop method).
3. Put the sifted confectioner’s sugar in a food processor with the (plastic) blade attachment. Pour in the chocolate (or mocha) mixture, and whirl until smooth. At this point the frosting will look more like a shiny sauce rather than a frosting, but that’s okay. Scrape around the sides and corners to loosen any unmixed sugar powder, and whirl again.
4. Add more cream or liquor flavorings, if you wish. Whirl again until smooth.
5. Scoop into a bowl and chill in refrigerator until not-to-thin, just-thick-enough to spread, about 15 minutes. You should give it a stir, at which point the frosting will have a lovely semi-matte silky texture. Apply with knife to cake substrate.
6. Leftovers can be refrigerated or frozen. If frozen, defrost at room temperature, or overnight in the ‘fridge. To further soften, place over a pot of boiling water and stir and whisk into desired consistency. Or if you’re lazy like me, zap in 10 second intervals until just soft, then whisk into shape.

I’ve wanted to make caramel sauce, but have been discouraged by my fear of burns. Too little time, and the rich flavor doesn’t have a chance to develop. Too much liquid (cream), and the flavor is diluted. Several recipes call for using a thermometer, but the sauce is never deep enough to submerge the bulb (okay, unless you make a huge batch, which I have yet to do).

The trick is to what the color of the bubbling sugar mixture. For a long time (10 to 15 minutes) it’ll boringly remain a pale golden shade. But when it becomes a lovely ruddy-rusty color (similar to paprika!), it’s time to turn off the heat. Beware that the sauce will remain hotter than boiling water for a long time. But even though there’s a lot of bubbling, splattering almost never occurs if the butter and cream are at room temperature and warm (respectively), and are added to the sugar syrup gradually.

I strongly recommend using salted butter, or at least adding salt if using unsalted butter. It opens up the caramel flavor subtly minimizing is sugary origins.

Suggestions for use: Over ice cream, apple pie, sticky toffee pudding, etc. Or a spoonful, for constitutional purposes. The caramel sauce thickens quite a bit as it cools, but it’s easy to soften in a microwave oven.

Ingredients

• 1 1/4 cups sugar
• 1/4 cup vanilla sugar
• 1/4 cup water
• 2 tablespoons golden syrup (or corn syrup)
• 3/4 cup heavy whipping cream, warmed
• 1/2 stick (1/4 cup) salted butter, at room temperature; if using unsalted butter, add a generous pinch of salt.

Method

1. In a heavy-bottomed saucepan with high sides, heat all of the ingredients except the butter and cream over medium high heat.
2. Bring to an energetic, bubbly boil. Stir periodically, which will cause it to foam up, but not too high.
3. After about 10 to 15 minutes of boiling and stirring, the sugar sauce will eventually, inevitably become darker, though more so towards the end. Once the syrup is a paprika orange-red, remove it from the heat.
4. Stir in the butter a bit at a time until incorporated, followed by slowly pouring in the cream. During addition of both ingredients, the sauce will bubble or foam up briefly.
5. Scrape into a bowl, jug or jar. Restrain yourself from the temptation of immediately sticking in your finger for a taste. The sauce will remain hot for at least 20 or so minutes! Once cool enough, go ahead and indulge.

Homemade cookies are best, because the vast majority of commercial vendors cannot make them properly. Too mushy and pallid from being underbaked. (Just what the is this trend for undercooking cookies? To be more like cookie dough? Ugh! I don’t hanker for cookie dough, nor do I comprehend the silly cookie dough in ice cream thing. But for a real cookie? Bake the poor thing, will ya?) Or, on some occasions, sapphire-hard cookies from people who think that more crisp the better. Ouch.

Then there are flavor issues. Astringent from too much baking soda or baking powders, ‘coz the puffier the better, right? Not at the cost of making the snacker’s face pucker up in disgust rather than desire, please. Too nutty: Alas, I just don’t like nuts in most cookies or cakes. Too plastic: Use the tastiest, smoothest chocolate, if you can find it. Avoid palm and coconut oils, their flavors don’t belong anywhere near a chocolate chip cookie. Avoid additives and preservatives. I mean, they are cookies, why should they have a prolonged lifetime? To eat after a decade? Er, no.

Enough ranting, time to bake!

Ingredients

• 10 tablespoons (5 ounces) butter, softened to room temperature
• 1/2 cup (4 ounces) sugar, white or organic granulated. I use half vanilla sugar and half unflavored sugar. If you don’t have vanilla sugar, add 2 teaspoons vanilla extract instead.
• 1/2 cup (4 ounces) darkest brown sugar you can find; Billington’s makes an excellent dark brown molasses (Muscovado) sugar (available at my local Whole Foods).
• 3/4 teaspoon salt; omit if using salted butter.
• zest of 1 orange, about 2 to 3 tablespoons
• 1 egg, beaten
• 1/4 to 1/2 cup orange juice
• 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
• 1 3/4 cups flour; I use unbleached white pastry flour, but all-purpose is fine.
• 8 ounces chocolate chips, preferably bittersweet; Dagoba Chocodrops are really good, containing 73% cocoa (again, available at some Whole Foods).

Method

1. Preheat oven to 375F degrees.
2. Cream the butter, sugars (and vanilla extract, if using), salt and orange zest.
3. Beat in the egg until well mixed.
4. Stir the baking powder into the flour, then alternate between adding these dry ingredients and the orange juice into the creamed mixture. Start out with 1/4 cup of orange juice, and add more if the dough seems too dry or crumbly. Scrape the sides of the bowl and mix well after each addition.
5. Stir in the chocolate chips.
6. Using a pair of dessert spoons, drop heaping tablespoonfuls of the dough onto baking sheet, spacing each cookie about 1 to 2 inches apart. Using a silicone baking mat on the sheet helps greatly with providing a non-stick surface as well as browning.
7. Bake for 13 to 18 minutes, depending on your crispness preference. I prefer to wait until the edges start to brown, at least. Makes 24 to 30 cookies.
8. Inhale while warm (or at room temperature, if patient, ha). With or without milk, tea, coffee, or ice cream.