Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Crisps, Strudel and Recession, my oh my


The May Daring Bakers' challenge was hosted by Linda of make life sweeter! and Courtney of Coco Cooks. They chose Apple Strudel from the recipe book Kaffeehaus: Exquisite Desserts from the Classic Cafés of Vienna, Budapest and Prague by Rick Rodgers.

Its already that time again, Daring Bakers. Time is surely flying. June. I thought yesterday was February. It doesn't quite feel like spring, or it might even be summer. Its been a bit of a odd spring. It is probably because this is the first time that summer won't bring a new place, a new start, a renewal. Instead, I am officially an adult -- working. Eek that seems even stranger to say out loud.


It is also strange due to this economic climate, that one of colleagues who sits nearly next to me was made 'redundant'. In the US, the term is 'laid off'. What do you say to someone who has more experience, who has been at the company longer? I'm just a graduate with a lower salary, must be cheap labour, will I be next?. It's getting tougher each day. On top of it, our expenses are going up and we are attempting to save for our trip to Iceland in July. Yesterday, Jussi and I were checking every pocket, corner, and purse for a bit extra change to buy some crisps. Yum, Kettle crisps - the recession antidote.

In light of this penny-pinching or perhaps pence-pinching, I've been making lots at home, however nothing too revelational or exciting. Old budget staples and using up what is in the fridge. Notably, lots of dough from scratch - lets see pizza, focaccia, even hot dog buns (and somehow I don't deem white flour preparations worthy of this blog, perhaps I should get over myself). In the same budget mood and doughy festivities, strudel fits in perfectly around our tiny flat.


Although strudel looks intimidating as we eye it at the Borough Market with its flaky layers, the purse strings yank at us to make at home. Apples are cheap, but even less expensive are the few pears sitting at the bottom of the fruit bowl and frozen berries ready in the freezer. And speaking of pence-pinching, no gym membership - try strudel stretching.

The original recipe can be found here: http://linda.kovacevic.nl/

The budget-saving variations were applied to the filling to accomodate what we had around:
2 tablespoons contireu (what we have around)
3 tablespoons (45 ml) raisins (omitted)
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/3 cup plus 1 tablespoon (80 g) sugar
1/2 cup (1 stick / 115 g) unsalted butter, melted, divided
1 1/2 cups (350 ml) fresh bread crumbs
1/2 cup (120 ml, about 60 g) coarsely chopped walnuts (omitted, too expensive)
2 pounds (900 g) tart cooking apples, peeled, cored and cut into ¼ inch-thick slices (use apples that hold their shape during baking) (replaced with 1 pound pears, and half bag frozen mixed berries)


Even with the cost cutting measures, it was tasty. We didn't run into any challenges into the process. Except for when we tried covering the entire table in parchment paper (lack of table cloths in our tiny place), which didn't work at all. Just failed, don't try it. Oh well. Also we ended up rolling it the short way versus the long way to make a snake, as we were hoping for millions of layers of flaky crust, which we preferred over volume. It might of been too many millions, as we ended up with reasonably flaky crust with a number of layers stuck together.

As far as on list of recommended recipes, it was good for strudel, but I've decided I'm a bit more of a turnover kind of girl. No not the one you take to bed, but those of goodness, sweetness, and everything nice inside. Perhaps this recipe can be modified to satisfy the turnover urges in you.



Okay, I know I'm covering up the lack of posting with this post. Yes for economic reasons, its been difficult to post about cooking, much less travelling. Its been busy - there is a recession out there, you hear! But we are off to Helsinki tomorrow for a long weekend of graduation parties, so hopefully will have celebratory food stories to share.

Friday, May 15, 2009

Disasters to Delicious

I will be the first to admit that over the years there have been a few disasters in the kitchen, however I like to reserve those for special occasions and large dinner parties (as evident in the caramel and macadamia nut cheesecake catastrophe of '09, the brownie debacle of '08, the red wine reduction destruction of '07).

In hopes to encourage all new chefs out there (namely Jussi) and to coincide with the first Daring Cooks challenge, below are some words of encouragement, advice, and/or confusion. I've just learned to cook through watching my grandmother and my father, and although not nearly enough Foodnetwork, and of course lots of eating along the way.


Experiment Even if math or chemistry isn't your favourite subject, the principles of the Scientific method still apply. Its been awhile since I dissected a pig and whirled tubes around, but the basic steps are to:

a) Use your experience and think. What kinds of things have you made/eaten before, what would you like to do/eat more of? Consider your background, or I especially like to think of where I've traveled and get inspired.

b) Form a hypothesis & methodology, aka figure out what exactly you want and how you want to create/make. This includes gathering different options for a recipe or interpretations of a classic. Also, think about where things may have gone wrong last time (aka burning, people politely ate it, etc) and how you can fix it.

c) Test & Repeat. This is the fundamental element to the kitchen. Get your hands, pants, apron, face, everything dirty (if you are me of course). The key is then to repeat these tests. I tend to make the same thing with different recipes, so you can really examine the effects, impact of different methods and ingredients.


Go with your instincts & herbs You can't go wrong (to a large extent) with pairing unique flavours/textures together. Your instinct should guide your cooking, this is where the spontaneity and creativity come in hand (plus a dash of chili flakes, a bit of garlic). Along the same lines, you can't really go wrong with fresh herbs (particularly my favorites are basil, cilantro, rosemary, sage). Its what sets any dish aside.

Food brings people together,
so no matter how ridiculous the food turns out in the end, it is the fact that people convene together that they will remember. It is the total experience and food is simply the catalyst for that enjoyment. This is why I always prefer to sit at a table for a meal, as there are less distractions and it becomes a unique event and something to look forward to. So even in our tiny, tiny apartment we have a dinner table occupying nearly half the space to sit down and enjoy a glass of wine with a plate of cheese.

And of course: Never
give up or stop learning. Culinary techniques and combinations are always evolving and so is any chef's skill. That's what this here blog is about, a personal challenge to do more and document the evolving nature of it all.


Well now, I shouldn't take your time up much longer. Time for you to get in the kitchen. And as there is a first for everything, this is the first Daring Cooks challenge (hosted by founders Lis & Ivonne) and my first time making gnocchi. I can't say that everything went smoothly, but it surely went tastily.


So if you don't succeed with beautiful gnocchi, you apply those skills listed above - past knowledge of flavour combinations (ricotta & eggplant - check), add some fresh herbs (lots of basil - check), enjoy the glass of wine and good company (always check), and never decide even if you burnt the eggplant slightly, had a little soggy gnocchi get you down. Meanwhile, you simply wrap the (better) pieces of roasted eggplant around the gnocchi add a bit of homemade pesto and tomato sauce, bake in oven, and walla beautiful tasty dish.


Recipe for gnocchi from my next cookbook purchase, because I am in love with every recipe from it: Zuni Cafe cookbook. Eggplant wrapped gnocchi inspired from the Ottolenghi cookbook.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Hugh Grant ruined it for the rest of us

Beyond the gritty streets and grey skies of London, a true cooking, travelling and chick flick paradise can be found. Behold Blenheim Crescent of Notting Hill. I know what you are thinking, what does chick flick have to do with anything? But ultimately, Hugh Grant ruined it for the rest of us when he supposedly was in this little movie called Notting Hill, wherein he worked at a bookshop in the London neighbourhood of the same name (or so I'm told).



I personally took a picture of the The Travel Bookshop for this lovely blog, and then realised that it was some sort of chick magnet, with girls and their Starbucks posing for pictures, hoping that a cute English bloke will flash them a smile. By the time this realisation struck, our bikes were surrounded with swoons and giggles.

Meanwhile our real calling was across the road, in a magical and mystical place where dream comes true or at least where the pages of cookbooks are brought to life: Books for Cooks. The concept of the store is the union of (cooking) philosophy and practise, or as one could argue cookbooks galore and a scrumptious cafe. So I basically drooled the moment I walked in the door.


Jussi and I fumbled around through pages from Eastern Asian cuisine to glossy pictures of brownies, biscuits, and cakes. It felt like that moment in movies where the lead is gaily bathing in greenbacks; except here I was an amateur cook in culinary heaven.

The mirage continued at the back with a cafe where the menu is from selected cookbooks. And just my luck, the featured cookbook for the day was the Ottolenghti cookbook, one of the latest in my collection. We dined on tasty mezzes, but couldn't keep our eyes of the array of cakes on display - white chocolate cheesecake, orange and blueberry, double chocolate all taunting us from beneath the skylight. We took them down with a dollop of yogurt and plate painted with chocolate. Yum.

It is safe to say that we'll be back. Jussi had to pull me out the front door, as I was now just as bad as the girls across the street - swooning.