Mini snack cakes – and an extra note

First things first, as I write this, I’m eating my orc stew, from the previous Hobbit post.  It’s decent, but I still have some ways to go with the seasoning.  It’s got a nice zing to it thanks to some habanero and sriracha, but it needs a bit more body to it.  I wanted to try leaving out bay leaf, thyme, and sage, but they’re in damn near everything for a reason – the earthy flavors of the soup are quite strong on their own, and they need a good compliment.  On the other hand, using celery root instead of celery was an excellent move, particularly as the celery root itself also is texturally much like potato pieces.  Overall, it’s a decent soup that only needs a few more tweaks to be amazing.

Now, for the coming new year, I found that a local sci-fi bookstore is doing an all-night gaming event.  Can’t say no to that, right?  So I’ve been going over in my head as to what to make for that.

In terms of bold and creative, I think I’ll actually make snack cakes – just pour some cake batter onto a lined pan, and then fill them with some frosting.  It’ll be like whoopie pies… except, of course, that I’m going to try to take these to a new level.

For the cake itself, I’m thinking of a luxurious Amaretto cake.  I’m hoping it’ll be a modern spin on pandoro (that Italian cake that I see so often around this time of year), with a moistness that calls to mind good times by the fire – be it the fireplace of grandmom’s house or the hearth that you imagine your characters meet in front of in a Dungeons & Dragons game.  The goal is to be satisfying and blend many things at once – even the line between yourself and fantasy.

Along those lines, the filling is quite important.  The cheap answer would be chocolate; after all, everything’s better with chocolate.  But being experimental means going off the beaten path, so I think my filling will actually be a combination of maple syrup and fresh vanilla – powerful and bold, yet using flavors familiar and warm for everyone.  I want it to be inviting and new without alienating folks who like something traditional.

Regardless, this should be a fun way to celebrate the new year.

And finally, for those who realize who I am now – go back over everything I said.  And more importantly, what I didn’t say.  For all that you realize how I may have misled you, I never once lied.  So I hope everyone had fun, continues to follow what I have to say, and enjoy a slice of bacon cake.  You’ll see me in a better forum for non-food questions soon enough.

Sometimes, keeping it simple is best

I thought I would have some fun experiment lined up for Christmas.  I really did.  I had visions of complex meat dishes, creative sides, and combinations that few folks have tried.

But when I asked my wife what she wanted, she merely asked for my roast chicken, some homemade buttermilk biscuits, and some spinach lightly sauteed in olive oil and garlic.

Sometimes, even with a pantry stuffed to the brim with all sorts of strange spices, and in a head with all sorts of ideas on how to combine foods, what you need are the classics, which should never be totally abandoned even as you try new things.

On that note, happy holidays everyone.

Aromatics and me – we should get to know each other

I was reflecting earlier about an entire style of cooking that I seldom use – herbs as aromatics.

I think the basics of my lack of use come down to tea.  As in, I have some strange genetic quirk that keeps me from being able to taste it.  The strange thing is that I can smell it just fine – but I can’t taste it on my tongue.

Mind you, this is extremely useful when it comes time to take care of a sore throat, actually – it tastes like water, but soothes my throat.  But as I was drinking some tea to prepare for a night of karaoke (which was frustrating, because two different people took songs I wanted to do – a maneuver I call the “karaoke cockblock,” if you forgive my French), I was thinking about how I seldom do this when I cook.

Of course, I cook with herbs all the time.  But I always cook with them in rubs, in crusts, and in mixing with other ingredients to make broths.  I never allow them to simply warm up and smoke their flavors through the foods I’m working with.  And really, given just how much I like several herbs that are good for such moves (like rosemary), I figure that this ought to be my next experiment.

I figure my first attempt will be chicken – relatively affordable, and rosemary chicken is a delightful dish.  I might even try fun with rounds – pound the chicken flat, put on a layer of sundried tomatoes and one of mozzarella cheese, then roll it up, slice it into rounds, and bake it with some olive oil and the aromatics.  That would be a fine meal, I think.

Anyhow, it’s a start.  In the meantime, I just finished another cup of tea – always time for one more song.

Fun with sauces and tentacles

Calamari is one of the more divisive foods I’ve seen.  I remember once seeing it on a menu, mentioning it out loud, and one of my dining companions immediately launched into a diatribe against it.  ”Oh God, nobody actually likes that stuff.  People only order it to gross out the people they’re dining with.”

Of course, I responded “Well, before you interrupted me, I was thinking about ordering it.”  And, truth be told, I still did.

Calamari itself is actually not that difficult to make, once you clean it.  You just have to be careful about cooking times.  It stays tender if you cook it for about a minute, and then it turns rubbery unless you cook it for another hour.  So really, you either cook it fast or you cook it slow.

Myself, I usually like a fast preparation, but there admittedly isn’t much you can do about that.  You flash fry it, and it comes down to whether or not you breaded it or not.  That said, there is plenty of avenue to experiment with the sauces that you dip it in.

Now, some find that simple marinara is the only acceptable choice for dipping them.  I do enjoy that, but I feel like a tomato sauce is only the start of your dipping choices.  I’ve always been fond of fra diavolo sauce myself, and the extra zing that a bit of spiciness brings to the dish is always enjoyable.

 

One sauce that I’ve seen gaining popularity is sriracha – or, as my family traditionally calls it, that weak stuff with a rooster on the bottle.  Mind you, I find it tasty, but it’s a bit lacking for my taste buds.  However, I’m making it into the greatest sauce ever, at least I hope – two teaspoons of honey, one teaspoon of rice wine vinegar, and one teaspoon of sriracha.  Hoping this comes out to a sauce that’s rich, flavorful, and maybe just a tiny bit of a kick.

 

Which isn’t to say that I’m shying away from a major kick.  I’m also going to roast some habanero and serrano peppers together, and blend that with a bit of molasses and a touch of dijon mustard.  That should be for people like me, who think that the major problem with calamari is its lack of nuclear qualities.

Sadly, though, I’m not sure when this experiment will happen.  So much is going down; I don’t know when it’ll all end.  Hopefully, when it does, I’ll easily be able to chow down on tentacle fun.  Such is life, I’m afraid.

Recharging my batteries

The one major downside to cooking at this point of the year is that I’m mostly just eating leftovers.  I make a damn good Thanksgiving turkey, if I may forgo humility, but this results in a few weeks of leftovers.  This keeps experimentation down to a minimum.

I am getting back into the swing of things, though.  I decided to draw inspiration from a previously discussed experiment – the Don Quixote burger.  I didn’t want to go quite as all-out as a full burger (holiday shopping is wearing me out), but I felt that it would quickly come together to get me thinking about new foods.

To begin, as I mentioned, I picked up some pane rustico.  Between two slices, I had one covered in a rich black olive tapenade, and the other had a bit of quince paste.  I used jamon iberico, and in honor of the Don, I used Manchego as I had previously described, which had herbes de provence encrusted on the rind.  I toasted it for about five minutes, and I enjoyed it immensely.

I guess in some ways, this sandwich was like Quixote himself – full of grand aspirations, but really nothing more than a ham and cheese sandwich, with an olive and an over-glorified apple.  Is it a bit much to claim that this sandwich is anything more than that?  But at the same time, I’m not deluding myself into thinking that I’m any great chef because I make classics out of fancier ingredients.

Instead, maybe the key to this is to act opposite to how Don Quixote himself acted – take something basic, and build on that to make a classic that can re-energize the mind and soul.  For all that it was a basic sandwich, I do feel a bit more energized and ready to make an excellent meal – at the very least, I’m going to make those Hobbit cupcakes for a holiday party very soon.

Almond encrusted fish

I strangely tend to be very boring when preparing fish.  Maybe because it’s nostalgic of growing up with ready access to it, but fish is always something I do traditionally.  Butter, maybe some onions/shallots, maybe some garlic or white wine if I feel adventurous… nothing all that outrageous.

I honestly have no good reason to have not experimented with fish before.  So, I think it’s time.

I think I’m going to start small, at first – I found a local nut roaster that does some amazing things with almonds, and I have some sea salt and rosemary roasted almonds from them.  The challenge is what else should go with this.  I think a quick broil with mustard to make the seeds stick is the obvious choice, but I still want to combine more into this dish.  Or maybe I need to find a creative side to go with it… regardless, it needs more.  Suggestions would be appreciated.