Toast

Devil May Care

I was surprised, after some rummaging among past posts, to find that I have never before written about deviled eggs, as there is very nearly nothing I like more. I was even more surprised to find that I had a bit to learn on the subject, since I thought the case was, for me, closed.

I knew that there were various French variations on stuffed eggs, which included asparagus, or shrimp, and the like. That was fine with me, and these were mostly very nice, but could not hold a candle to the classic: Hard-boiled egg white halves, stuffed with a mixture of mashed yolk, English mustard, mayo, salt and pepper, and, finally, sprinkled with some paprika, smoked Spanish or regular, or maybe, if I was feeling a little extra was called for, ground chipotle. No pickle juice here. End of story.

I was therefore disconcerted to discover, in the Sunday NYTimes Men's Fashion Supplement*, a recipe for stuffed eggs Caeser salad style, which is a worthy alternate. I was also surprised to learn, courtesy of Jacques Pepin, that a few minutes upside down in a frying pan can have an amazing, and praise-worthy effect on a deviled egg . A caveat: the new egg recipe is not for anchovy haters- nor is the Caeser salad itself, for that matter. And, a happy happenstance: the Caeser eggs are particularly suited to the Pepin effect.

Even if you are as stuck on the classic as I have been, you may want to try these both ways. Nearly as simple as the original, and that is a plus, in my book. The cold ones are great with whiskey or gin drinks, and the warm ones make a nice sit-down first course, or a lunch.

This is how you make the basic Caeser egg, as amended by me (I don't like the idea of coming upon a bit of chopped raw garlic while nibbling my egg.):

12 hard-boiled eggs
2 Tbsps Olive oil
2 tsps lemon juice
1 tsp anchovy paste
dash Worchestershire
salt and pepper
paprika
garlic clove, split

Rub the garlic clove over the interior of a small to medium bowl. Cut eggs in half, and add the yolks and all the other ingredients, except paprika, into the bowl. Mash thoroughly, and stuff halved whites. Sprinkle with paprika and display cunningly on your depression glass dish or in Tupperware...they will all be eaten, either way.

Now, with your regular deviled eggs, or your Caeser eggs, you can make a sort of deconstructed Caeser salad. Dress some romaine with a little bit of garlicy vinagrette and set it on a serving dish, or several smaller plates, with a few homemade croutons, if you are so inclined. Film the bottom of a heavy frying pan with olive oil, and heat it up. Set the eggs in the pan in a single layer, carefully, yolk side down. Cook them at a medium-low heat until the yolk is nicely caramelized and brown. Mine took 5 minutes.

Set them atop your salad, arranged prettily, and consume. They are nice without the lettuce, too, but you should still have them with a knife and fork, on a plate...unlike the cold version, which are perfect for eating out of hand , at picnics. Also, if you put two cold ones yolk to yolk, and wrap them up, they are the best ever little treat in a packed lunch.

*A strange item, no? I always read the Times style items with interest, and they are so often a source of amusement. I fear my amusement may be a symptom of my own depravity, though. How can I chuckle over a spread featuring chic modern models portraying starving depression era hobos, in mock-rags of cashmere with thousand dollar price tags? This display appeared not too long ago in a similar NYTimes style magazine.

Who was this for, and why? Has Marie Antoinette been playing milkmaid games again? Maybe someone there should take a moment to remember how she ended up.

In any event, apparently deviled eggs have become fashionable, much in the manner of upscale mac and cheese. Oh well.

One Frozen Duck: Part II Confit and Cassoulet

I'm going to show you a really easy way to make a duck confit. When Paula Wolfert takes a short cut, you've got to know it's not a cop-out. The woman is nothing if not the queen of patience in service to authenticity. However, if you are not up for even this level of fiddling, you can make my inauthentic but IMHO tasty cassoulet with purchased confit. You'll need two leg/thigh sections for the payoff dish. There are many other nifty uses for a duck confit, too, I hope to get to that soon.

A. Confit

If you were following along with Part I, you've got a little plastic bag in the fridge, with some salted and seasoned duck parts, those being 2 leg and thigh sections, 2 wings, and the neck. You also have 4 cups of rendered duck fat. Possibly this is actually a duck/goose fat blend. You may even be stretching it with olive oil. I hope you have a crock pot, or other slow cooker. The smaller the better, really. The little ones are fabulously cheap, and have many uses, including impromptu fondue pot, overnight oatmeal maker, and so on.

Before you go to bed, plug in the crock pot, and set it on low. Brush most of the bits of seasoning off the duck parts, and put them in the pot. Liquify the fat by heating it in the microwave or otherwise, at a lowish heat so as not to induce bubbling over. Pour over the duck parts, and make sure they are covered completely by fat. If not, add that olive oil..or some lard until they are entirely submerged. Put on the lid, and go to sleep.

In the morning, sprinkle coarse salt on the bottom of a clean container large enough to hold the contents of the crock pot. Use tongs to lift out the very soft duck,
and set it all in the clean container. Pour the liquid fat through a very fine strainer over the duck, again making sure it's all covered with the fat. Let this cool while you get ready for work, or make some coffee and breakfast, or both. When it's cooled down, cover and refrigerate. Was that easy or what?

Later in the day, if you've used a flexible plastic container, you can pop out the confit and fat in a block. There will be a layer of rich duck jelly on the bottom. You can peel this off, and store separately in the fridge, to add depth of flavor to any of the duck dishes I'm going on about. Not to worry if not, though, the salt on the bottom will keep it from going off until you work your way down.

Store the confit in the fridge for at least a week, so the characteristic confit flavor can develop.Now you are ready to use these goodies. It is best, food safety-wise, to thoroughly heat the confit before serving. Mostly, you will want to cook it in its own fat until it's crispy, and delightful. Merci, Ms. Wolfert.

B. Cheater's Cassoulet

1 lb Great Northern beans
some of that dock stock you made in Part I- (or
a quart of good boxed chicken or turkey stock)
an onion with 5 cloves stuck in it
a couple of bay leaves
thyme sprigs
6-7 cloves of garlic
your confit and the fat that clings to it when you remove it from the container
4 garlic sausages- I used the already cooked chicken ones
a pork chop
bread crumbs from a country loaf- about 2 cups
salt
pepper
a 15 oz can of tomatoes
salt
pepper
olive oil

This is seriously unseasonal, I know, but it was cold here last week. I'm eager for the local produce and the farm box to start up, but so far, there's not much to be had. A friend brought me some just-cut asparagus from her garden, which was beyond fabulous- I was so lucky. I was all over cooking and consuming it instantly... but there's not been much yet, since then. In the meantime, if the weather isn't balmy where you live, you might want to give this a try.

Soak your beans over night, in water to cover. In the morning, drain them, put them in a heavy pot, add the stock, and water, if necessary, to cover. Put the pork chop, bay, thyme, onion and garlic in with the beans. Bring to a boil, then turn to a simmer. Salt and pepper to taste, then cook until the beans are very tender. When they are cooked completely, snatch the chop out with some tongs, and set it on a cutting board. Add the can of tomatoes, and continue to simmer the beans. (Don't add the tomatoes until the beans are tender. .The acid in the tomatoes will stop them softening properly.)Preheat the oven to 350F.

While the beans and tomatoes are cooking, shred the confit into a 3 qt covered enameled cast iron or stonewear casserole, preferably one which has a lid. It will have some fat clinging to it. Add a bit more fat, the sausages, sliced, and the pork chop, cut in cubes. Cook, over a low heat, until the confit is browned and crispy, and the rest of the meat has browned edges..Add the beans and their cooked-down liquid to the casserole, and mix it all up well. Cover with a thick layer of the crumbs, and drizzle or spray with olive oil. Bake for 1 1/2 to 2 hours, until there's major bubbling up happening around the edges. the breadcrumbs should be nicely browned now. Consume with some friends and a bit of green salad.

If you like, you can assemble the whole casserole, and keep it in the fridge for a day. If you do that, you should let it come to room temperature for about 1/2 hour, while you preheat the oven. This is very sociable food. There is going to be a a nice duck breast supper soon. Stay tuned.

One Frozen Duck- Part I

I've got to tell you that there's no payoff supper at the end of this post, which is all about preliminaries. I was inspired by the excellent Judith Jones to try my hand at getting the most out of one (defrosted supermarket) frozen duck. In the recipe section of her memoir, there is a plan for this, and another fine scheme for getting more than your money's worth from a leg of lamb.

Mine differs a bit, because I decided to have a go at a duck confit, something I've been thinking about for awhile. There's going to be confit, a giant pot of duck soup, gribenes-(a salty, crunchy garnish for a salad or other use), and a fancy duck breast dinner dish for 2 people. But not today.

You will probably not want to try this if you are looking for a Thirty Minute Meal. If you occasionally enjoy making a demented fuss over food, however, it could be up your alley. Or maybe you like watching another person making a fuss. You're invited too. Before we begin, though, I had better also confess- I am cheating. The confit thing requires more fat than can be harvested from a single duck. So, I'm doing this with one frozen duck...plus, 3 added cups of a mix of rendered goose and duck fat.

Well, you say (in my imagination, I don't actually hear a voice, no worries), "What good is it to go on about getting all that out of one duck, when you're not actually doing it?"

But here's the deal. Once you get about four cups of duck and or goose fat hoarded, you can reuse it, and get all of these goodies from a succession of individual ducks. Because when you are done consuming this stuff, you strain the fat, and freeze it until next time. The fat lasts for a couple of years this way. Duck and/or goose fat is a very special cooking medium, which is dynamite for cooking vegetables- saute or roast, and other things...it is pure white, very mild, and just delicious. So, if you make a confit once, and decide it's not for you, the fat should still not go to waste.

I got my four cups by a combination of methods, including buying 7 oz. of it from d'Artagnan to top it off. You can buy all of it to start with, though that's not going to do the one duck budget any good. You could, I suppose, consider it an investment, and that wouldn't be crazy. A great lot of mine came from a goose I made in a not very successful attempt at a Paula Wolfert recipe. That, the d'Artagnan stuff and the rendered fat from the Duck in Question was sufficient. The bits of duck in the confit slowly exude more fat as well. Some people (Emeril Lagasse for one) combine the duck fat with olive oil. That would be another way to top it up.

If you want to try this with me, here we go:

So, it is necessary to begin by cutting up the duck with a nice sharp knife and a pair of killer poultry shears. I won't pretend this is fun, but it doesn't take long. If you are lucky enough to have the giblets and neck in the bird's cavity, take them out and save them. The neck will go in the confit, the giblets in the soup, and if you don't want to have the liver, cooked in butter and sliced on toast for lunch, please mail it to me. This is a cook's reward of the first order. ( I do realize that a lot of people just don't go for any sort of liver. I'm mystified, but accepting).

First, slice off the breasts with a very sharp knife, leaving the skin intact, and slide them into a freezer bag. These will make a fancy dinner. You could do that straight away, but we are going to do it next week. So they are going in the freezer.

Now, as neatly as you can, remove both leg and thigh sections, and the wings-skin on. Put them in a plastic bag with the neck and some crushed garlic cloves, plenty of coarse salt, freshly ground pepper and some (preferably fresh sprigs of) thyme. Mash the bag around a little to get all the duck parts nicely covered with the seasonings, and refrigerate from 12-36 hours. I'll be dealing with this in a couple of days, but you probably won't hear about it until next week. So you know.

Now peel and cut off every scrap of skin and or fat on the remaining carcass, and set it in a bowl. Put the carcass in a soup pot with the remaining giblets, some carrots, fennel stalks/trimmings, a leek, a parsnip, water to cover, and some salt and pepper. Bring to a boil, skim, and turn down to a burble. This is going to make a yummy duck stock, and there will be nice chunks of meat too, for soup. We'll get to that later, as well. Today, cook it for 3 hours or so, or until it the broth is tasty. Strain it, and put it in the fridge, when cool. Pull the duck meat off the carcass, put in in a freezer bag or storage container thing, and refrigerate or freeze. When the strained stock is completely cool, peel off any fat, and cover. This can also be frozen, of course, if you are not doing the soup soon.

Back to the skin and fat, which is going to be rendered. Cut it all into squares-sharp scissors work best for me- about 1"squares-, put it all in your food processor with 1/4 cup of water, and process it making sure to cover any openings with your hand-it's messy stuff . Pour the sludge into a smallish, heavy pot, over a low heat. Stay home for 3-4 hours, stirring it occasionally. (I did warn you ...you can always read) Eventually, the fat will turn clear and liquid and there will be little golden brown bits floating around. The latter are the gribenes, which you can lift out with a slotted spoon and put on some paper towels to drain. Pat them, salt them, and put them away. Or eat them- they are an evil but dandy snack. Strain the fat through a very fine sieve and/or cheesecloth into a clean container, with the rest of the 4 cups of duck or goose fat, and refrigerate.

The hardest part is done now. If you like, you can just freeze everything and proceed when you feel like it. I'll be back next week, and the pay-off for these efforts will begin.

This photo was taken in Seneca Falls by Sylvia MacDonald in 2005. She and one Ted Papperman created the frozen duck after a major snowstorm there in January, 2005. I don't know her- I found the photo on www.fingerlakes1.com, under "photos."

Asian Flavors Asparagus Soup

I am a bit surprised that I've been quite so off my game since my mother died on the fifth. Naturally, I'm upset, but I've been so damned inefficient and goofy, too. I have been deeply grieved before, but, I guess not so surprised- time to prepare makes a huge difference. In any case, I've been muddled, and going with the flow by not challenging myself too much. So you see, it isn't that I have stopped cooking-I cook for comfort, and it works. But I'm cooking familiar things, nothing I haven't already posted about before. And anyhow, when I start to write things down, I get all tangled up.

This is the first remotely new thing I've made for a while, and it was a success. It is yet another asparagus soup- an adaptation of a Deborah Madison recipe. It is a bit special, both because it is entirely vegetarian and because it is a rather different take on a popular sort of thing, coming nicely (to me) at the end of a season of asparagus indulgence. I think it is makes excellent first course to a meal of diversely asian flavors, though I have also been enjoying on its own, for lunch. Deborah Madison is very good at getting complex layers of flavor in meatless soups; I've learned a lot from her techniques.

This is what you need:

2 lbs asparagus
2 bunches scallions
handful of cilantro
a bay leaf
some thyme
a handful of parsley
a peeled medium potato, sliced very thinly
a lime
butter- 1/4 stick
toasted sesame seeds
asian-style sesame oil
sea salt and pepper

Cut the tips off the aparagus and set aside. Snap the bottoms off the asparagus, and put them in a soup pot. Cut the greens from the scallions, and the stems from the cilantro, and put thestems and greens in the pot as well. Add the thyme, parsley and bay leaf, and a quart and a half of water, plus salt and pepper. Bring this stock to a boil, and then turn to a bold simmer- for about half an hour. Finely chop the cilantro leaves, and set aside.

Meanwhile, chop the white part of the scallions and the middles of the asparagus, into pieces about half an inch long, and put them in another soup pot with the potato, butter, salt and pepper. Cook these gently in the butter until they begin to soften. Turn off the pot, and let it sit. In a small pan, cook the asparagus tips in a bit of salted water about 4-5 minutes. Cool them by running cold tap water over them; drain and save.

When the broth is ready, pour it through a strainer over the buttery veg, and discard the solids from the broth. Bring the soup and veg to a boil, then simmer another 15 minutes. Wash out your first soup pot, and place a fine strainer or chinois over it. When the soup is done, puree it thoroughly, preferably with an immersion blender. Then, pour it through the chinois into the clean pot. Add the cooked asparagus tips, and heat until desired temp. As you serve each bowl, stir in a few drops of the oil, and sprinkle with the chopped cilantro and a few sesame seeds.Pass a wedge of lime to squirt on top.

My sesame seeds sunk inexplicably-perhaps as a result of carrying the soup onto the porch to take its photo. If I have been scatty and left something out...listed an ingredient and failed to mention adding it, or the like, I would not be at all surprised. Please let me know if I have. I apparently did not actually leave anything out, as the soup was pretty good.

Repetoire

I love reading all sorts of food blogs and writing this one, and particularly adore reader comments. I especially enjoy the feel of direct contact with other cooks cooking right now- the unglossed reporting of things gone sadly wrong and kitchen triumphs surpassing expectations. There are real photos of the real thing, too- not some approximation from a newpaper's photo bank.

Having a food blog and reading others has made me eager to try new things,and new ways of making old things, and that's good. But I am bothered, in a way, by the very variety which makes the blogs I read interesting. You could easily get the impression that I, for one, never make the same thing twice. So not true, and so not a model for good home cooking.

There is is no greater pleasure than making a dish you know you love, and could make in your sleep. One where you've honed down your favorite method, and it is a part of you. Every cook has these standbys- for the times you don't want to struggle, you want to be sure someone will like their treat, or you need the comfort of something familiar and good. They are a huge part of your personality as a cook. Your family and friends think of them when they think of you. And vice versa.

I understand that nobody wants to read, "Today I made my favorite chili again", complete with links to the last 45 times I talked about chili. But actually, I'm thinking that maybe, just a little bit....somebody does. I've just had a birthday, and the accompanying fit of retrospection has resulted in the following list of past posts, about stuff I make often. Hope it is some use.

The photo above is Cantonese American Beef and Tomatoes. (The last time I posted about it, I didn't take a photo.) I had it for supper last night and it was as easy, good, and synergistic as ever.I think one of the reasons that it is so good is that because it is so simple, you can get it hot from the wok and on to your plate so fast that it doesn't loose its sizzle and scent.

These are some more past posts about food I make over and over again. And over again:

Saor

Favorite Pie

Ratatouille Chinois

The Other Egg Salad

Muhjadarrah

Meyer Lemon Tea Cake

Ukrainian Borscht

Rosemary Potato Pizza

Frittata with Spinach and Fingerlings

Chermoula

Of course, there are more. Some of these things I've been making for decades, others were recently adopted into the rotation, but they are all permanent repetoire, set in head and body memory, and feel comfortable, but not boring. Maybe you could tell me about some of your repetoire standards?

"Chinese" Pepper Steak: 1962

Before she inexplicably gave up all interest in cooking maybe 15 years ago, my mother was a wonderful and creative cook, who made delicious food of a kind which did not commonly appear in the households of my friends. She read a lot of cookbooks, and was a big Craig Claibourne fan. But sometimes she just made stuff up-based on flavors that she had experienced in restaurants-especially Chinese restaurants, which we all loved. In those days, Chinese restaurant food in a provincial city like Pittsburgh was pretty much all Cantonese-American.

I have had quite a few asian beef and pepper dishes in restaurants and people's homes since then. Mum's "Chinese" Pepper steak was her own invention, and not, probably, especially close to any actual Chinese dish. It was, however, wonderful comfort food, and like most things with lots of peppers, smelled insanely good in the cooking. We ate it with fluffy white rice (as opposed to the medium grained, stickier Asian rice). Thus, it was fork, and not chopstick fare. Green peppers were widely available then, while red, orange and yellow peppers rarely appeared in a supermarket. So her pepper steak was made with all green peppers-but there was a secret step.

She parboiled the sliced peppers, before adding them to her sauce, and this made for a very delicate flavor. I tried to mentally reconstruct the recipe as she made it, while simultaneously deciding if I should vary it when I made it myself, because of the additional ingredients and tools which are available to me now. There was no doubt in my mind that Mum would have used some of these things if they were available to her. Still, her pepper steak was a thing of simple beauty as it was, so I didn't want to stray far from the original.

In the end, the conscious changes I made were these: I made it in my wok, beause it was easy and I make lots of stuff in it as a matter of course. I used a variety of peppers and fresh ginger, instead of only green peppers and dried ginger, because I could, and who wouldn't? I drizzled it with toasted sesame oil, because I love it so, and could not resist. I also had a heated internal debate about a few fermented black beans, and left them out, but I may not, next time. So it remains a simple dish which can be made from ordinary supermarket food. It is something I can eat often, without tiring of its simple goodness. and pretty much all non-vegetarians like it.

If you are interested, this is what you need to serve 4:

3/4 lb thinly sliced beef, suitable for sauteeing -although tougher cuts, frozen and sliced very thin work, too-they are tenderized somewhat- just a bit chewier, which can be nice.

an onion, peeled and thinly sliced in half-moons

a clove of garlic, peeled and finely chopped

1/2" square of peeled fresh ginger, chopped
peanut oil 2 tbsps

3 sliced sweet peppers, assorted colors, briefly parboiled and drained

soy sauce-to taste, be generous. Before soy sauce was widely available, Mum used Worchestershire sauce, but she swtiched later

pepper

beef broth, preferably homemade- 2 cups

14 oz can chopped tomatoes-preferably Muir Glen, or homemade, drained

1 tbsp cornstarch, disoled in 1/4 cup cold water

drizzle toasted sesame oil

2 scallions, sliced

In a wok, or large saute pan, heat the oil. Add beef, onion, garlic and ginger, and stir fry just until almost all the beef has changed color. Add the broth, tomatoes, soy sauce and peppers, and simmer until the beef is tender- maybe 20 minutes. Add cornstarch mix, stirring or whisking to keep things smooth, and cook until sauce is thickened. Drizzle with sesame oil and garnish with chopped scallions. There is a lot of sauce, and it is very good over basmati rice. So make plenty of rice. I have been known to make a lunch of leftover sauce on rice.

If my mother was making this for supper, I could smell it as soon as I came home from school, and opened the door. I had a hard time waiting until dinner. Sorry there is not photo- the camera batteries gave up the ghost, and we could not wait for a re-charge to eat. It's not all that pretty anyway; iti somehow looks its best when you can smell it, as well as see it.

Mushroom Alchemy

Nothing is so delightful as coming upon one of these combinations, where a few simple ingredients meld in a delicious and unexpectedly special fashion. I felt like this when I learned about Mudjadarrah, and when I first baked an egg inside a tomato. Jane Grigson was a person with an especially fine nose for this sort of thing, and I am very attached to my shabby, dog-eared Penguin edition of her Good Things, from 1973.*

If you live in Pittsburgh, you should take note: The Giant Eagle has been offering beautiful fresh oyster mushrooms at $5.99 per pound. They are not at all heavy-so you can get masses of them quite cheaply, and they are gorgeous. (They also have nice fresh shitakes for only a dollar more per pound-but that is a more common occurence.) I have been eating the oyster mushrooms like crazy, afraid they will disappear, or go up to $15.99 per pound, like the other wild ones. I have had them sauteed on toast for breakfast, cooked with onions and mixed with rice and pinenuts to stuff cabbage, grilled with a lambchop, tucked in an omelet, and in a barley soup.

It was from Ms. Grigson that I got the idea for this simple combination that really knocks my socks off.In a chapter titled "Edible Woodland Mushrooms" (the oyster mushroom [Pleurotus ostreatus] is one such- it "grows out of trees such as ash and beech in a cluster of soft shelves"), she suggested a method for cooking mushrooms with potatoes, which while quite simple, resulted in the potatoes taking on a good bit of mushroomy flavor. The method I used is even simpler, and had a similar result. Given the usual expense involved with wild mushrooms, it is especially handy to have a method for cooking them which stretches them out.

This is what I did, and I would be very surprised if it did not work as well with a handful of morels, chanterelles, or other precious fungal booty. The Mushroom Lady must have been watching over me. Take some small potatoes-fingerlings or just little yukons or redskins, not much bigger than golfballs, and scrub, but don't peel them. Cut them in half. Toss them with olive oil, salt, pepper, several coarsely chopped cloves of garlic, and rosemary (fresh if possible), and put them in a metal pan in a preheated 475F oven. Roast them until they are starting to get brown and crusty- maybe 20-25 minutes, shaking them from time to time to prevent sticking. (But my oven is slow- so do watch it.)

Put some wild mushrooms, chopped very coarsely, or whole, if small- approximately the same amount as the potatoes (area-wise-they will, of course, be much lighter in weight) into a medium sized bowl and toss with some olive oil, salt and pepper. Take the pan out of the oven, add the mushrooms, and toss or gently stir it all up well. Put it back in and cook until the potatoes are done and the mushrooms have browned. This will probably be about 10 more minutes.

Serve, sprinkled with some chopped parsley. The potatoes will have taken on a lovely mushroomy flavor. So very good. If you had these with, say, some slow scrambled eggs with cream, or greens with a vinagrette, you would be really flying high. It is also quite nice just to eat them plain.

I've never had an actual truffle, but I suspect the effect I've read about, where they perfume other foods on contact, must be similar to what happens here. Pretty cool. I am such a fool for fungi, I do hope someday to have, just once, my very own truffle to play with. Maybe I could write a grant proposal requesting the award of a truffle for uh, experimental purposes?

*You lucky people- at last there is a reprint!

K. Zuckerman's Magic Rugelach

Apparantly rugelach, made with a cream cheese pastry, is primarily an American phenomenon. Sometime ago I posted about a savory rugelach recipe I made for a boxing day party, and I learned some things about rugelach from comments: In Israel, a croissant-like dough is most widely used. There are variants made with schmalz, rather than butter and/ or cream cheese. Some cream cheese style rugelach also use sour cream. Claudia Roden, Joan Nathan, and Mimi Sheraton have all noted multiple variations. The Second Avenue Deli Cookbook contains a non dairy rugelach made with (ack) tofutti. It seems that a yeast dough makes a more "authentic" Eastern European-style rugelach, and that it is mostly in the US that the cream cheese version is widely available in bakeries, and otherwise popular.

I have tried various recipes in an attempt to approach the very special, crescent shaped cream cheese based rugelach made by my Aunt Yetta. Always delicious, and frequently especially timely, these rugelach arrived in a tin, by mail, to cheer me during several of the most difficult times in my life. I believe they have certain ameliorating powers, in the face of unavoidable disaster, or, for that matter, petty annoyance.

The differently shaped rugelach you see here are the closest I've found so far to Yetta's, as I remember them. Kate Zuckerman, pastry chef at Chanterelle, shares the recipe in her recent book, The Sweet Life. She "isn't really sure" why the recipe works as it does, but there is definitely a multi-layered, puff-pastryish effect , without any of the turning and other complications of that preparation. I think she is justified in calling it "magic." A little fussier than an ordinary cookie dough, it repays you well. If you follow closely, handling the dough is not so tricky, and the reward is well worth it.

Here's the recipe, as adapted by me. I've added some waxed paper to the rolling processes, because the dough is thin, and a little trickier to handle than, say, pie dough. The magical Ms. Zuckerman, with her professional pastry chef hands, wouldn't need to do this, but I do. As with any pastry, if things get too soft and sticky, refrigerate the whole works for a bit, before going on. There, I've made it sound hard, and it's not really. You see, this is what you do:

First, make the dough ahead of time, preferably the night before baking.

8 tbsps (a stick) of butter, softened
4 oz. cream cheese, room temperature
1 cup flour
1/4 tsp salt
1 tsp sugar

In a stand mixer, with the paddle, beat the butter and cheese until combined and fluffy- about 8 minutes on medium. Add the dry ingredients, and beat until the dough is combined, and then about 15 seconds more. scrape the dough onto some waxed paper and wrap it, flattening it out into a rectangle about 1/2 thick, using the wax paper to shape the rectangle as you wrap. Chill.

You can make the filling ahead, or right before you bake.

4 oz. walnuts, chop fine
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 cup golden raisins (I used them instead of currants, because I find currants don't soften much in baking)
1/4 cup sugar

Mix well in a small bowl and refrigerate until ready.

You also need:
1/4 cup more sugar
a beaten egg in a cup

Preheat oven to 350 and line 3 cookie sheets with parchment or silpats. Cut 2 sheets of waxed paper 12"X16" Put the dough between them, and roll it out to the size of the waxed paper. I did this on the pastry marble-I find the coolness helps a lot. With scissors, trim any excess dough, so that the dough is, as much as possible, a neat rectangle the size of the waxed paper. Cut the dough in half lengthwise with the scissors, waxed paper still in place. You will do each half separately.

Now carefully peel the waxed paper from the top of the first half, and set it out on a counter, long side facing you. Brush entire surface with egg wash. Spread with half the filling, covering the entire surface, except for a 1" border on the long side furthest from you. Using the bottom waxed paper to help you, roll the pastry into a long rope, tucking the filling in as you go, and sliding the waxed paper off as you roll it. Roll as tightly as you can, without tearing the dough. Go carefully. Press the last bits together, and with the help of the remaining waxed paper, and roll it gently onto one of the lined sheets, seam down.

Repeat with the other half of the dough and filling, rolling the 2nd half onto the same sheet. Brush both with the egg wash all over, and sprinkle with the 1/2 cup remaining sugar. I used demerara sugar for the crunch and color here. Stick in the freezer for half an hour.

Remove from freezer, and cut each long rope into 1" cookies. Lay on the 2 other lined sheets, about an inch apart, spiral side up. Bake 15 to 18 minutes, or until golden brown and puffed, rotating pans halfway through. You can also freeze one log, well wrapped to make some rugelah fast-another time. It would be nice to know you had rugelach at the ready all the time. I made them all this time. Greedy.

Ragu Redux and Christmas in Red

I grew up, like most Americans, eating a tomato meat sauce on my spaghetti which had no real Italian source, except in the imagination. In my neighborhood, it was sometimes called "Jewish spaghetti". I later learned that the same dish, more or less, was called "Irish spaghetti" in my husband's family.This is a dish which has been so assimilated that it is hard to believe it was ever seen as foreign, even exotic. But it truly was. My English grandmother actually refused to try it, and viewed it with deep suspicion, as recently as the 1950's.

Over the years, I have sometimes followed what I remember of the spaghetti rules of my friend's Italian mother (no oregano, just basil and garlic and bay, and a little sugar if the tomatoes are not so great, canned whole tomatoes, no canned sauce), and have also made numerous variants from Italian cookbooks. A favorite among these was a Neopolitan "kitchen sink" Sunday extravaganza, which contained pork bones, rolled stuffed beef and meatballs. It simmered all day, and made the richest sauce ever.

It is safe to say that on an ordinary day, when I want to make a tomato-based meat sauce for pasta or gnocchi, I generally follow a pattern, but not a recipe. So the sauces are never really exactly the same, and change with season and my mood. I expect you do this too, and at any given moment, you will be making this sort of sauce simultaneously with a gazillion other cooks, most of whom don't have a cookbook open either. I think this is a pleasant thing to contemplate, and somehow calming in the midst of frenzies of one sort or another.

In the summer, I use part fresh ripe tomatoes, and part canned, and I like the complexity of flavor this imparts. Also, fresh basil, because it is there, and a sin to ignore. In the beginning of winter, when I still have some (they go fast), I like to use my home canned organic San Marzanos, from an extra bushel of tomatoes I buy from my CSA farmer. I have also taken to adding a few finely chopped chicken livers, along with the ground beef, as I feel it adds some depth and silkiness to the sauce. It's not my own idea-I got it from an Italian cookbook, I'm fairly sure. Most recently, I tasted a sauce with something extra about it, and got my answer- a teensy scraping of fresh nutmeg. I'm putting it in my winter sauce these days.

Here are a couple of ways I have cheated, without too much damage, when I was missing something, and too lazy to run out shopping:

1. This one sounds the worst: Substitued a glop of ketchup for tomato paste. (True Confessions stuff here)
2. Thick sliced peppered bacon for pancetta
3. No wine...extra chicken broth and a dollop of red wine vinegar
4. chopped fennel for celery (I now prefer this option)
5. low on meat- minced portabellas and/or a handfull of chopped dried shitakes

The one thing (besides tomatoes and meat) that is completely indispensible as far as I am concerned, is garlic. Ain't no substitute.It would be my guess that no one who is motivated enough to bother reading a food blog needs to be told how to make a tomato meat sauce for pasta, and that is a nice thought, as far as I'm concerned. And everyone's is just a little different. Tasting the sauce, you can tell when you are home.

In case there is anyone who doesn't know the fundamentals, these are: In a big pot, heat some oil and cook a little bit of pancetta if you like, then add some chopped onion and any other little chopped veg you like, and cook until soft. Crumble in the ground meat of your choice, and brown it. Add the seasonings you like, especially garlic, salt and pepper,a bit of red pepper, but also basil, and parsley and some nutmeg or marjoram and a bay leaf.

Add a whole bunch of very good fresh or canned chopped peeled tomatoes and their juices, mooshed up a bit and some red wine and tomato paste, and cook the whole thing at a low burble for a long time, but at least until it turns a noticeably different sort of color, which seems to happen more or less all at once, after awhile. Add more liquid if it gets too thick in the meantime. You will know the turning color business the first time you see it happen, right ? It's quite obvious- not subtle or difficult to detect. If you were making a summery, fresh tomato sauce, you'd stop well before it happened; it's a depth and richness thing, and the brightness of fresh tomatoes doesn't survive it.

Anyhow, I made some tomato sauce because I've got a friend coming for our annual celebratory pre-Christmas dinner , and we are having spaghetti and presents. I saw a fancy all red holiday dinner in Gourmet Magazine. This is not it. But I liked the idea, and when I saw Julie's cranberry upside down cake at Kitchenography, I had to have it. If you look there you will find not only the recipe, but a picture of what the cake actually looks like. (Mine has a hole in the center, though..I had to use the ring shaped springform, because I haven't picked my other one up yet. Last I saw it, there was still some banana cake in it, so I didn't take it home). This is such a pretty cake. I roasted my last remaining farmbox beets, and made a salad with beets, roasted walnuts, and feta. It's a red Christmas here, complete with some red Christmas crackers.

I'm off to Cleveland for Christmas with the offspring. Be back soon.

Coconut Layer Cake

Looks ain't everything. Initially inspired by a coconut cake in Nika Hazelton's American Home Cooking, my version has gone through many changes over the years. It is extra good with freshly grated coconut. However, made with a bag of sweetened coconut, or the nice new unsweetened frozen stuff, it is quite a production, (and very good). So if you are not up for attacking a big hairy rock, and peeling and grating your fingers off, then don't do it that way. This will be more than enough fuss without that- and I have set the whole long business out, so don't be holding your breath. The custard filling was, by the way, a later addition. The idea of using the custard to flavor the buttercream came from The Cake Book by Tish Boyle. In its current state, this recipe is a pretty close adaptation of hers.

I have never before made this cake in cold weather-I think of it as a Fourth of July or Labor Day picnic sort of thing. Simultaneously luxurious and plain, it looks the hokey part on a picnic table covered with a checked cloth, surrounded by platters of fried chicken or barbeque, pickles, coleslaw and baked beans, and the like. And I was going to make it this summer, and post a picture, because it is a classic bit of americana. I just didn't get to it. But then, I volunteered to do a birthday cake this Friday night, so here it is. Out of season, in all its trashy yet subtle splendor.

Nothing snooty about this cake. But how can it be tacky, when it is all shades of white? Like the garden of some insanely refined aesthete, it glows quietly in the moonlight. Nonetheless, it has a deceptive look of cake mix and Cool Whip. Its trailer park aura cannot be denied. Serve it with ice cream (dark chocolate is wildly good with it) or with berries, or plain. It will surprise people when they taste it, which is fun. And if you like coconut, you are sure to like it.

Once, I filled the cake and frosted it thinly with a dark chocolate ganache before covering it with the buttercream and coconut. This was good, but gilding the lily really. I love chocolate and coconut together, but this oversized reversed Mounds bar was not my favorite. Better to let the coconut cake speak for itself, and add the chocolate with some ice cream, if you're longing for it. Up to you.

It is made with quite a bit of butter, 6 egg whites, cake flour, vanilla, and a mixture of canned coconut milk and whole milk. The custardy filling has a base of coconut infused milk. It uses up 4 of the remaining egg yolks, and has , like the flavoring syrup, a bit of rum. The icing is a very simple butter cream, with about half a cup of the custard mixed in, and there's plenty of coconut pressed all around. Some might find this a lot of bother for a cake that looks like a 12 year old's first shot at a box of Duncan Hines, but , to repeat myself, looks ain't everything.

I forgot to take a picture of the whole cake, but you can probably tell from the leftover slice, complete with hole from a birthday candle, that it is not especially elegant looking. Made with the two 9" layers divided into 4 thin ones, it would be eligible for display under a glass dome atop the counter of a classic diner. But if you go that route, make half again the recipe for the filling and for the buttercream. I think my two layer one is more the family reunion model. This is what you need for the 2 layer version:

Ingredients for Cake, Filling, and Frosting
Cake flour 3 1/2 cups
baking powder 1 tbsp
salt 1 tsp
Whole milk 2 1/3 cups
canned coconut milk 2/3 cup
Coconut, peeled and grated 2-3 cups
egg yolks 4
egg whites 6
sugar 2 1/2 cups
cornstarch 2 tbsps
rum 3 tbsp
butter 5 sticks (20 oz), softened
powdered sugar 1/2 cup
vanilla 3 tsps

Make the cake

Preheat oven to 350F, and grease and flour two 9" cake pans. Sift together the flour, baking powder and salt and set aside. Mix 2/3 cup whole milk and the canned coconut milk together well, and set aside. In the bowl of a stand mixer, beat 1 1/2 cups of sugar and two sticks of butter until light colored and smooth. Add the egg whites, one at a time, beating until well combined. Scrape down sides from time to time, with a rubber spatula. Add 2 tsps vanilla. Alternately add the milk and flour mixes, about 1/3 of each at a time, mixing and scraping down until well blended. Divide batter between the 2 pans, and bake on a centre rack until the cake bounces a bit in the middle- about 25 minutes. Cool on rack for 10 minutes, remove from pans, and continue to cool on rack.

While the cake bakes, make a bit of rum syrup and soak some coconut

For the syrup, mix 1/2 cup water and 1/2 cup sugar with 2 tbsps rum. Bring to a bowl, mixing sugar til dissolved. Cool.

In a little pan, mix 1 1/2 cups milk and a cup of coconut. Heat until milk is warm, and turn off heat. Let it all sit for an hour. Now your cake should be cooled. Brush the bottom part of each cake layer with plenty of rum syrup.

Make custard

Strain the coconut milk, retaining the milk, and discarding the coconut. (Press hard on the coconut, to get as much milk out as possible.) In a 4 cup pyrex cup, mix the egg yolks and 1/4 cup sugar and the cornstarch until sooth. Keep by the stove. Heat the strained milk until simmering. Quickly mix a little of the hot milk into the egg yolks in the cup, and then pour the yolk/milk mix back into the hot milk. Heat until it begins to thicken up, whisking vigorously. Turn off the heat and continue whisking. Scrape it into the pyrex cup, and whisk some more, until it is cooled to lukewarm, and thick and smooth. Spread half of the cooled custard on one layer of your cake, which you have set on the serving plate. Put narrow strips of parchment all around the bottom of the cake, just tucked under the edge of the cake, to protect the plate from the mess to come. Set second layer on top of first.

Make Icing

In the bowl of a stand mixer, beat 3 sticks of butter, the powdered sugar, the last tbsp of rum, remaining custard, a tsp of vanilla and a pinch of salt, until smooth.

Frost the cake

Once the cake is frosted, press generous handsful of coconut into sides of cake, and sprinkle over top. Go crazy, skimpiness will not be rewarded. Clean up the platter, and refrigerate for a couple of hours to set up nicely.

And that's the whole deal. Pretty is as pretty does, or something like that. Please let me know if I have made proof-reading mistakes-I feel I must have, this is so long, and typing it up has made me woozy eyed.