Full Gastronomic Tilt

I used to skip breakfast more mornings than not. An extra-strong cup of coffee would get me through to lunch, if in a jittery way. When I started listening to my body, I heard loud and clear that this was no longer acceptable.

Most days, breakfast is an english muffin, toasted and spread with Earth Balance and peanut butter. Sometimes I treat myself to a blueberry spelt or bran muffin from Greenlife. Much to my dismay, I cannot eat cereal or granola or anything in the morning with milk. Milk in the morning makes me nauseous. Really. No idea why.

So yesterday, I was motivated. I wanted out of my breakfast routine rut. Something different, something homemade. I had plenty of oats. Oatmeal? No, I needed something more texturally substantive…

The first time I made granola bars, I used Alton Brown’s recipe, and they were a gross, disgusting failure. Something over-toasted and lent a brown, gritty taste to the whole batch. Dutifully, I wrapped them individually and brought them to work with me in the morning, but they were far from satisfying. Instantly put off, for a long time I refused to believe that homemade granola was a) easy or b) worth my time. But when I saw Wit and Whistle’s recipe, a lightbulb went off in my head. No toasting? Mix + Bake? I can do that! Portable breakfast? Heck yes.

All you need is a bowl, your hands, and the odds/ends of your pantry. I discovered a few handfuls of pecans and walnuts, plus some coconut and currants.

I had a bar for breakfast this morning and felt fueled up until way past my normal lunchtime. This recipe makes enough for one-two people for a whole work week. Give it a try!

Pantry Raid Granola Bars
makes 9-12 bars
(inspiration due Wit and Whistle)

Ingredients

2 cups rolled oats
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup wheat germ
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1 cup whole wheat flour
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/3 cup chopped pecans
1/3 cup chopped walnuts
1/3 cup unsweetened coconut
1/3 cup dried currants
1/3 cup dried cranberries
1/2 cup honey
1 egg, beaten
1/2 cup vegetable oil
2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Directions

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and grease a 9″ × 13″ baking pan.

To a very large bowl, add oats, brown sugar, wheat germ, cinnamon, flour, salt, nuts, berries and coconut. Mix well with your hands. Make a well in the middle, then add the honey, egg, oil and vanilla. Still using your hands, mix well.

Firmly press the mixture into the baking pan. Don’t spread the mixture all the way to one edge of the pan. This makes it easier to scoop out the finished bars. (Best. Tip. Ever!) Bake 25 minutes until the edges are lightly browned. Cool 10-15 minutes, then, while still warm, cut the bars into squares. Store the granola bars in an airtight container, and enjoy.

**stole a friend’s computer long enough to type this**

There are nine ten different kinds of vinegar in my pantry.

Ten.

White distilled vinegar (For egg poaching, general cleaning, etc.)
Apple cider (A go-to acid for most dishes.)
Red wine (Another go-to - but different from apple cider. Truth.)
Balsamic (Unique and earthy - good in tomato sauces.)
White Balsamic (I was curious. Not much different from regular balsamic.)
Pinot Grigio (My ‘fancy’ vinegar - bright and zesty, it’s great in pretty much everything.)
Blueberry Basil (From Blossom Vinegars - so tasty!)
Lemon Dill (also from Blossom)
Malt (for tofu/fish ‘n chips, of course)
Rice (I cook a lot of Asian dishes. It comes in handy.)

Of the 10, the only ones I could do without are the two Blossom vinegars (but they’re fun to have!) and the White Balsamic.

Which leaves me with a rationalized need for 7 different vinegars.

Is this weird?

I wish I knew who to credit this to…

My laptop has the white screen of death. It’s either static electricity, an excess of cat fur, or my graphics card.

Either way, it is far beyond my ability to fix. So until I get this sorted out, no new posts.

Stay with me! I’ll be back as soon as I can.

Using the highly unscientific yet strangely reliable method of pulling names out of a hat, the winner of the $10 French Broad Chocolate Lounge gift certificate is….

Diedra!

Diedra inspired me with a lovely story about her grandma, and a pie crust recipe that I have to try. Diedra, shoot me an e-mail at fullgtilt AT gmail DOT com - we’ll make a date for coffee or I’ll get your address so I can mail off your winnings.

Thanks so much, everyone. Looking forward to another great year!

photo credit to Jack-i and Flickr

One year ago today, I dipped my toe into the blogging waters. Part lark, part creative outlet, I originally titled this blog Saffron and Lavender. That name did not begin to hint at any aspect of my personality - mostly joyful, slightly unpredictable, and filled with energy to spare. Didn’t know what I was doing (still don’t), but I knew I wanted to share some part of myself with the world.

75 (!) posts later, all I know is that I want to keep going. Keep sharing, keep learning, keep trying new things. Thanks to each of you, my readers, for your insight, humor and commentary.

Since gift giving is traditional on birthdays and anniversaries, I thought I’d shake things up a bit by doing my first ever giveaway post here at Full Gastronomic Tilt!

Up for grabs, to be given to one lucky local winner selected at random, is a $10 gift certificate to French Broad Chocolate Lounge!*

photo credit Locavoracious Weblog

Who doesn’t love the French Broad Chocolate Lounge?? To enter, just leave a comment on this post with some inspiration: link to or tell me a story about your absolute favorite recipe - ever or of the moment, doesn’t matter. Thread will be open to comments through Saturday, February 20. Winner will be chosen on Sunday, February 21.

A few restrictions:

~ One comment per person, no more. Break the rules, lose your chance.
~ Residents of Western North Carolina only, please. Jill made a good point. Let’s broaden that to two hours from Asheville in either direction, as long as you make it to our fair city occasionally. Statesville to Knoxville, bring it! (Apologies to my respective posses in Raleigh, Brooklyn, Portland and Atlanta.)
~ You must be contactable and willing to either meet me for a cup o’ joe to pick up your winnings or provide me with a mailing address I can send it off to.

Good luck, much love and thank you!!

*Gift bought and paid for with my own hard-earned cash. FBCL did not approach me in any way or provide me with any incentives to do this.
I give because I love…you!

Dinner plans, via text message:

“Have leeks & potatoes. Thinking something rustic/French. Ideas?”
“Gratin! With thyme and carm. onions.”
“Perfect. Gruyère?”
“I’ll get it. Bringing wine, too.”‘

Gratin: n. French origin, from grater (to scratch), typically refers to any dish with a lightly browned top crust of crumbs, butter and/or cheese. A base of potatoes is traditional. (see also: delicious)

Many gratins are heavy and rich. Soaked with cream and liberal amounts of butter, gratins make for a filling dinner on the coldest evenings. I was aiming for something more complex. This gratin allows the individual vegetables to shine through and complement one another, from the delicate butter-sauteed leeks to the densely sweet caramelized onions. Everything soaked up the fresh flavor of the homemade vegetable stock. Topped with a salty cheese layer, browned to perfection, this dish is good!

It should serve up to four….the two of us made it disappear quickly.

Saturday Night Gratin (Samedi soir gratin)
serves 3-4

6-8 Red Bliss or Yukon Gold potatoes, scrubbed
1 red onion, diced finely
3 leeks, trimmed to white and light green parts, sliced thinly
1 carrot, peeled and diced
1 1/2 cups (12 ounces) vegetable stock
1/4 cup half-and-half or heavy cream
1 1/2 tsp fresh thyme
1 cup shredded Gruyère
1 Tbsp olive oil
3 Tbsp butter
salt and pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Heat the oil in a heavy-bottomed pan over medium-low heat. Add the diced red onion to the pan and stir, spreading the onion across the bottom of the pan. Add a pinch of salt and cook for about 45 minutes, stirring occasionally. They will shrink considerably and turn a deep reddish-brown color. Transfer onions to a prep bowl.

Combine broth and cream. Set aside.

Slice the potatoes thinly (but not too thin!), about 1/4 inch. We left the skins on, but you can peel them if you desire.

In the same pan you prepared the onions in, melt the butter over medium heat. Add leeks, carrot and a pinch of salt. Cook until softened, about 10 minutes. Stir in thyme.

Butter a 9×13 pan and arrange the potatoes in a layer on the bottom. I overlapped them around the outside into the middle. Spread the carrot, leek and thyme mixture over the potatoes, followed by the caramelized red onions and one more layer of potatoes. Sprinkle with salt, pepper and more thyme.

Pour the broth and cream mixture over everything and sprinkle the gruyère on top. Cover pan with aluminum foil and bake at 375 degrees for 25 minutes, until potatoes are fork-tender but not soft.

Remove foil and bake another 10 minutes to brown the cheese.

Serve immediately, with some chewy bread spread with butter.

I admit it - until 5 minutes ago, I had not donated to Haitian relief efforts. No texting, no concerts, no PayPal. But then the fast and sincere efforts of a small group of food bloggers caught my eye. They came together in under three weeks to produce a print on demand cookbook to support Haiti. 27 different bloggers and chefs lent their time and energy to provide original recipes and photographs, including Gail from The Pink Peppercorn and Tea of Tea & Cookies.

$25 for a softcover (what I got)
$50 for a hardcover

Interested? You can read more about the journey here and purchase the cookbook here, through the Blurb website.

Also neat: The Canadian government will double all money raised through Friday, February 12, and proceeds go directly to Doctors Without Borders and the Red Cross.

One night, it came up that I had never attempted homemade sushi.
“Really?” asked my friend. “It’s so easy. I’ll teach you. The trickiest part is making the rolls, but that comes with practice.”

I was skeptical about the easy part. Many Japanese dishes have a short ingredient list but a long list of steps, as the food is lovingly arranged or incorporated just so for a pleasing aesthetic and surprisingly complex taste. Not hard to make, but involved. Truth be told, I hadn’t given much thought to the creation of sushi prior to that night. My sushi thoughts are reserved for the eating of it, which I do frequently and with gusto.

So one night soon after that conversation, my friend and I set out for the store and gathered all the ingredients we’d need. Back home, I was unsure where to start and waited for some direction.

“How can I help?”
“Hmm…julienne these vegetables, please.”

Red pepper, green pepper, carrot, cucumber. I cut, scooped and sliced until I was surrounded by piles of veggies. Cooked baby shrimp and snow crab legs rounded out our ingredients. I was reminded that I dislike handling raw seafood, but pressed onward with only the lightest shudder. This was going to make a lot of sushi! Meanwhile, my friend busied himself with making nishiki rice, a specific variety of on-the-short-side-of-medium grain rice that lends itself perfectly to sushi, becoming plump and sticky when cooked. After the rice finished cooking, he dumped it into a large bowl and let it cool slightly before making slashes in the rice and dribbling in a goodly amount of seasoned rice vinegar, then folding it in with a wooden rice paddle.

“Okay. Do you have the mat?”
I did. I made room on a countertop, setting out the mat and the sheets of nori.
He turned around, reaching for the veggies…and stopped.
“What? What is it?”
“…Nothing.” He picked up my knife and started re-julienning all of the vegetables I had so neatly cut minutes ago.
I sighed, frustrated. I reminded him I had never done this before. If it was imperative the vegetables be sliced that finely, why didn’t he say something?
He turned around and smiled, not taking my bait for the sort of argument that only happens when two foodies (each with their own well-developed approach and rituals) cook together.
Instead…”When you’re making sushi with this many fillings, each has to be sliced pretty finely so it doesn’t make the roll too large. If it’s too large, it will fall apart.” Oh. Right.
Specificity.

At last, it was time to roll. I watched as my friend laid a sheet of nori on top of the bamboo mat, rough side up. Did you know nori sheets have a shiny side and a rough side? I didn’t. Rice always goes on the rough side, as I soon learned. Shiny side out makes for a more attractive presentation. He scooped some rice out of the bowl with the rice paddle and, turning the paddle over, began to spread the rice. Shiny side, rough side. Front of the paddle for scooping, back of the paddle for spreading. Specificity.

He placed the vegetables in a line along the edge - alternating and layering up as he went. The shrimp (sliced) and the crab (shredded) went on top. Then, lifting up the bamboo mat and pressing firmly, he confidently rolled the sushi tight.

(How crazy neat is this picture?)

Moving the roll to a plate, he wet the edge of the seaweed and pressed down to make a firm seal. Taking a knife with the tip dipped in the water, he sliced up the roll, and circles of perfect sushi appeared.

I was impressed. My turn didn’t go nearly as well. As effortless as he made it look, it was challenging to roll the sushi. At one point, I confess I wanted to fling the sushi mat across the room. My sushi was more oblong than spherical. But I did it! Now I have a better understanding why there are chefs out there completely devoted to the art of sushi and have even more appreciation for those beautifully presented rolls I get at Wasabi and Zen Sushi.

Have you made sushi? How many tries did it take before you got the rolling part down? If you do make it at home, does it diminish your desire to go out for sushi? My inquiring mind wants to know!

Speaking of inquiring, do you have a burning question for me? Ask away, anonymously, at my Formspring page.

A little over three years ago, Mark Bittman, via Jim Lahey, turned the bread baking world on its ear and gave it an impolite finger (I’ll let you imagine which one). Bittman’s New York Times column, The Minimalist, published “The Secret of Great Bread: Let Time Do the Work” and included a recipe for No-Knead Bread. This was about the time the food-blogging world started to grow exponentially, so everyone and their mother tried this technique. And whaddaya know, it actually worked.

Now, before you wince and turn away to comfort your bread machine or indignantly defend your kneading abilities…hear me out. No-Knead Bread may not be for everyone, but it certainly works for me.

Why I Like No-Knead Bread:

1. Prior to trying no-knead, I was afraid of yeast. Baking chemistry freaks me out. So precise, with many things that can go wrong. I hate the thought of abject failure, even though it’s an integral part of the learning process.

2. I still fear kneading, perhaps irrationally. This gives me something to work up to.

3. It’s easy, but not without thought. Three ingredients and time, that’s all you need! Mix, stir, rise. Flop, fold, sit. Add cornmeal. Let rise again. Slide into pot, bake. Remove lid. Bake some more ’til brown.

4. You can make it in or on practically anything. I used an 8-quart Lodge cast iron dutch oven and it worked beautifully. I’ve heard you can also flop it on a pizza stone. Just be sure to warm up your surface in the oven as you are pre-heating!

5. It makes neat crackling sounds as it cools. Perhaps all bread does this. I have no idea.

6. It’s my favorite kind of bread. Crunchy, chewy crust, speckled inside with lots of air pockets, made for lots of butter. I find it sooo satisfying.

Check this out:

The Original No-Knead Bread
makes one 1½-pound loaf
shamelessly reprinted in full from the NYT website
(Hey, who knows how long they will continue to have older posts available for free? Death of print, pay-per-view, advent of the iPad, all that?)

Ingredients

3 cups all-purpose or bread flour, more for dusting
¼ teaspoon instant yeast
1¼ teaspoons salt
Cornmeal or wheat bran as needed.

Directions

1. In a large bowl combine flour, yeast and salt. Add 1 5/8 cups water, and stir until blended; dough will be shaggy and sticky. Cover bowl with plastic wrap. Let dough rest at least 12 hours, preferably about 18, at warm room temperature, about 70 degrees.

2. Dough is ready when its surface is dotted with bubbles. Lightly flour a work surface and place dough on it; sprinkle it with a little more flour and fold it over on itself once or twice. Cover loosely with plastic wrap and let rest about 15 minutes.

3. Using just enough flour to keep dough from sticking to work surface or to your fingers, gently and quickly shape dough into a ball. Generously coat a cotton towel (not terry cloth) with flour, wheat bran or cornmeal; put dough seam side down on towel and dust with more flour, bran or cornmeal. Cover with another cotton towel and let rise for about 2 hours. When it is ready, dough will be more than double in size and will not readily spring back when poked with a finger.

4. At least a half-hour before dough is ready, heat oven to 450 degrees. Put a 6- to 8-quart heavy covered pot (cast iron, enamel, Pyrex or ceramic) in oven as it heats. When dough is ready, carefully remove pot from oven. Slide your hand under towel and turn dough over into pot, seam side up; it may look like a mess, but that is O.K. Shake pan once or twice if dough is unevenly distributed; it will straighten out as it bakes. Cover with lid and bake 30 minutes, then remove lid and bake another 15 to 30 minutes, until loaf is beautifully browned. Cool on a rack. Cool completely to room temperature before cutting!

So, a few notes:

This dough is sticky! You can kind of tell from looking at the above picture, taken after I dumped the dough onto the counter. It can be a little challenging to work with, but as long as you lightly (I said lightly!) flour your hands, you should be okay. The below picture is immediately before the second rise. As directed, I shaped the dough into a ball, which is a (fruitless but not pointless) battle. Don’t expect a perfect sphere, more like a flattish oblong. This is totally okay. Just move quickly and use a LOT of cornmeal on the towel and all over the top. I’ve made this exact recipe twice. Once a year ago and once yesterday. Both times resulted in a tasty loaf. Crackly outside, nubbly from the cornmeal, springy inside texture. Whether you’re a bread-baking novice like me, or just pressed for time, No-Knead Bread is worth it.

Of course, an easy, inexpensive recipe resulting in homemade bread in no time at all was just the beginning. As the recipe made its way around the blogosphere, no-knead bread started getting fiddled with and adapted. Below is a small sampling of the many, many experiments bravely attempted:

* Steamy Kitchen makes Rose Levy Beranbaum’s adaptation, with success (and zero effort - she had her 4-year old make it!)

* Mark Bittman made No-Knead Bread even faster, two years later. And this is where my foolproof caveat comes in. I tried this recipe after my first no-knead success and it was a total disaster. The dough stayed goopy, impossible to shape and it baked up terribly. Should try it again.

* The Pink Peppercorn makes a cinnamon-raisin version! Yum!

* In 2007, Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day was published, to rave reviews, further increasing the popularity of no-knead bread. No-knead challah? Yes, please.

* More recently, The Kitchn hacks No-Knead Bread to make a sandwich loaf!

One additional note: Due to the extended rise (12-18 hours), you do have to think ahead a little. I started this loaf on Friday evening around 7:00 PM. Fresh bread was cooling on the counter by 12:30 Saturday afternoon. Remember that the second rise takes about 2 hours. I’d advise starting it on a weekend evening, Friday or Saturday, but feel free to make it suit your schedule.

Flip. flip. Flipflip. flip. Cookbook after cookbook. I had agreed to whip something up for a 10 person gathering - mostly vegetarians, one vegan, one gluten allergy. I thought something hearty, warming and fulfilling would be appropriate before extended discussion involving, among other things, community building.

What’s more communal than soup? What’s more friendly, vegan and gluten-free than lentils? Just as Laurie Colwin says - there are hundreds of ways to make lentil soup, and they’re all good.

Dish decided, I pondered strategy. My beloved Red Lentil Soup with Carrot and Coconut Milk seemed fussy, so I nixed it. Hmm…my recipe binder had a rather good, straightforward lentil soup recipe. But Casual Kitchen’s Easiest Lentil Soup caught my eye - whole cloves? In the end, I went with my recipe (included at the end), but tossed the cloves in as a lark. The effect was subtle but noticeable, an undertone of sweet warmth. Happily, the soup was met with raves, served with gluten-free cornbread, sesame kale and a spinach salad. I always forget about cornbread - so delicious spread with butter or Earth Balance, a fabulous complement to hearty soups.

Remember: Soup makes people happy. Unless they aren’t soup people. (”I just made a huge pot of fragrant, rich, zuppa toscana! It has BACON in it. Why aren’t you grinning from ear to ear and gripped with ecstasy? Sigh. Here, have some chicken.” True story.) Heathens.

Less than a week later, I discovered a glass jar of (I think) duPuy lentils. Small, dark, almost blue-green in color. Beautiful. Time to try a recipe that’s been kicking around in the back of my brain and making noise, mujadara.

Pronounced Moo-jzah-dra and not moo-jah-dara, it has just three ingredients: lentils, onions and half a cup of basmati rice. Dead simple. The only unique aspect of this dish is that the onions are finely diced and caramelized. Mujadara is RIDICULOUSLY delicious. I used Orangette’s recipe, because Molly’s blog introduced me to this dish, years ago. There are tons of variations on this dish out there, as it is a Middle Eastern staple. Some cautioned against using duPuy lentils, but I found they retained their shape and texture much better than green lentils. Phooey to them.

Why, why, why did I hold off making mujadara for so long (almost three years)? Because I was a doubting Thomas. There was no way a three ingredient dish could be that tasty. I was wrong. Please don’t make the same mistake. Serve it with a generous squeeze of lemon and a bit of salt. I lightly sauteed some baby spinach and stirred it in at the end. Yum. This dish will get you through to spring, I promise.

Lentil soup, a pantry dish if there ever was one
(original inspiration due Giada De Laurentiis)
serves 8-10

Ingredients

5 cups vegetable broth
5 cups water
1 3/4 cups green lentils
1-2 T olive oil
2 sweet or yellow onions, large dice
1 28-ounce can diced or crushed tomatoes
4 stalks celery, coarsely chopped
4 carrots, diced
4 garlic cloves, pressed
6 whole cloves
3 sprigs fresh thyme (~2 tsps dried)
2 bay leaves
at least 1 tsp salt
lots of black pepper
up to 1/4 cup cider vinegar and/or lemon juice
Parmesan cheese, optional

(More options, you say? Add white wine, balsamic vinegar, red pepper flakes, sausage, spinach….)

Directions

Heat the oil in a very large pot over medium heat. Add the onions, carrots and celery and saute until softened, about 8 minutes.
Add the garlic and saute 1-2 minutes.
Add the tomatoes with their juices and simmer about 5 minutes.
Add the lentils, water/broth mixture, bay, thyme, whole cloves, stir it up and bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer for 45 minutes -1 hour.
Add salt, pepper, 2 Tablespoons of cider vinegar and the juice from one wedge of lemon. Stir, taste and adjust as your palate desires. I needed more salt and more lemon, but your mileage may vary.
Sprinkle with Parmesan if you like.

Serve to a hungry crowd!