Christmas Cheese

Happy Holidays my lovelies! Again, I must apologize for the lack of posts. I have a slew of happenings that I have been meaning to relate to you, but when it rains, it freakin' pours. For the past month, my nephew has been in the hospital. Last week, he was airlifted from Dallas to Cincinnati, where he is now at the children's hospital receiving excellent care. My daughter and I are flying out there tomorrow to help out and help drive my sister and her three boys back home to Dallas. The stress and uncertainty has been unbelievable, but I have to say, the Ronald McDonald House has been an amazing beacon of light in this mess. For all the crap I have talked about the fast food chain, the foundation has done excellent work for families with sick children in times of crisis by setting them up with a free place to stay, food, activities for kids, and an incredible amount of generosity, kindness, and unconditional love. As an advocate for healthy food, the irony is not lost on me. However, I thought people should know about some of the good work that the RM Foundation does.

I didn't want to let the season pass without sharing something with you all so I thought I would post about my Christmas cheese. Everyone knows how tasty goat chèvre is, but something that you might not be aware of is that the breed of goat can determine the flavor of the milk and cheese. Nigerian Dwarf goats, the breed we keep here, have a milk that is sweeter than the cow's and lacks that twang that we are used to in a good chèvre. In the past, my cheese has come out tasting like a creamy ricotta, lacking that depth of flavor that one looks for in a chèvre. Fortunately, my chef friend Tabitha of Friend in Cheeses Jam Co. gave me a tip of adding a touch of lemon zest. It doesn't replicate the flavor of the classic chèvre, but it increases the zing on the palate. This is also a great way to make chèvre with cow's milk, as the flavor of the milk is similar to the Nigerian Dwarf's. Here's how to do it.

Nigerian Dwarf (or cow) Chèvre

• chèvre culture - available from cheese supply stores. I got mine from Hoegger Goat Supply. I prefer a culture that you can use direct set, rather than creating a mother (like a sourdough culture requires). We don't make enough cheese around here to warrant a mother.
• rennet
• 1 gallon of fresh milk
• lemon zest, I prefer that of the Meyer lemon
• soft cheese molds or cheese cloth

Pour milk into a non-reactive pot and get it to 72 degrees. Add 1/8 tsp. of chèvre culture (or as directed on culture packet) and stir until dissolved and combined. Add 2/5 of a drop of rennet by adding 5 Tbsp. of water to a jar with a drop of rennet and then extracting 2 Tbsp. of the watered down rennet mixture and adding it to the milk. Stir. Now add lemon zest. I only use the zest of half a lemon. This is really a personally taste thing, so feel free to improvise. Let sit covered in a warm place, ideally 72 degrees, for 18-24 hours. At the end of the resting period, you will see that the cheese solids have coagulated into a firm, creamy mass in the center of the pot. You can check for set by pressing gently against the cheese near the edge of the pot with the back of your fingers. The cheese will yield to the pressure and you will see the whey having clearly separated. Pull out your molds and spoon the solids with a slotted spoon, preferably one of those flat ones used for this type of thing, into each mold. This recipe fills up three of these small basket molds. Pace the molds on a deep tray and cover. Allow them to drain for two days. Pouring off whey as needed. I usually let them sit in the refrigerator. You can also use a cheese cloth and hang it to drain. Some people salt their cheese after it has fully drained. I usually add the salt as I am spooning the solids into the molds. This way, I can alternate solids and salt to make sure that it is seasoned throughout. Once you have finished draining and salting the cheese, wrap it up in saran wrap or put in a glass container in the fridge. Serve with your best preserves. For a holiday party, I usually serve the cheese with my tomato jam, pepper jelly, green tomato chutney, and chipotle plum sauce. Delish!

I hope all of you out there are having a wonderful and stress free holiday season. A merry merry and happy happy to each and everyone of you. 

How to Salvage a Botched Batch of Bread

I've been attempting to make no-knead sourdough bread with minimal to no success. For some reason, my dough is not rising properly. The mixture gets nice and bubbly, smells sour, but turns to soup by the end of the 18 hour rising time. After investing a couple pounds of flour and two days of oversight (it takes a day to get the sourdough starter active), I refused to let the whole batch go to waste.  I turned that gloppy mess into a passable loaf and thought I would share my mad MacGyver skills with you all.

I started off with this recipe, which instructed me not to mess with any of the procedures. So I didn't, though that aided me in no tangible way. When I got to the part where you fold the dough over itself three times, I couldn't see the point as the gluten strands were obviously in liquid form now. How would I ever get the flubber back into the bowl for the second rise if all I had was a runny glue on my hands?

I could already tell that if I baked the dough as is, I would most assuredly produce the flattest ciabatta known to man. I quick grabbed whatever flour I had available, whole wheat bread flour, and started adding it along with about a teaspoon of commercial baker's yeast. I mixed in the flour until I had a soft smooth dough that wasn't sticky and yet wasn't too firm. The dough sat for a couple hours on top of the oven and developed somewhat of a rise. It didn't quite double, but definitely poofed up. I'll probably add more yeast if this happens again. I dumped the dough into a preheated Dutch oven according to the original instructions, baked it covered for 30 minutes, and then uncovered for another 15.

The final product was on the flat side, but had a great crispy crust and moist, holey crumb. Tasted great too, even if it was a tad heavy and dense. So never fear if you fuck up your bread. As I have found out, there is always a second chance for redemption.

Kitchen Madness

It's that time of year when the oven is running full steam ahead and the sink is piled with a mound of dishes that no matter how much washing goes on, never seems to decrease in size. Yes, canning season is upon us and a lot of the things that are in season will only last a few weeks at best. With pots and jars ready at the front, the food marathon is on in our counter space challenged kitchen.

Fruity Goodness

Those precious peaches, nectarines, apricots, and cherries don't have a very long season around here, so we've been stocking up from our favorite farmers market fruit stand (cheapest organic fruit at the market) and making all kinds of jams, cobblers, pies, and ice cream with our hand cranked Donvier that we snagged at the thrift store for eight bucks. Whatever cherries didn't go into this gorgeous pie, the lattice topping compliments of my six year old (didn't she do a great job?),

or into the several pints of cherry, chocolate, pistachio ice cream that we've been non-stop churning out

2 cups cherries blended

2 eggs well beaten

1/2 cup sugar

1 1/2 cups half and half

1 cup heavy cream

1/4 tsp. vanilla

* mix together and then add

1/2 cup pistachios

1/2 cup chocolate shavings

1 cup cherry chunks

* prepare according to ice cream maker instructions

I froze. They'll come in handy later when in season fruit is scarce.

I'm so bummed that I didn't get my flat of apricots that I ordered from my CSA this year. Their apricots really do make the best butter. But I did save enough from my weekly boxes that I was able to squeeze out four jars. Needless to say, I won't be sharing. Sorry.

This year I tried something a little different: peach jam with honey, which wasn't strictly peach or any one variety for that matter - I included both white and yellow peaches and nectarines. The cheap fruit is great, but it all tends to ripen at the same time, needing to be used up because it is attracting fruit flies, thus the mixed up jam. The flavor is fantastic and a bit more complex than my usual fare. I'll definitely make it again this way. Goes great on muffins made from a recipe that I got from one of my kitchen bibles, The Country Mothers Cookbook by Jane Watson Hopping, a.k.a. The Pioneer Lady. If you have a penchant for old, old school home cooking, this lady's recipes are for you. I haven't made any dish from her books that I didn't love.

Berrilicious

Berries have a longer season in our area than the stone fruits, so it wasn't crucial that I move into high gear on this one. But as I was on a roll, I figured "what the hey," let's just get it done while the iron's hot, as they say. The blueberry jam came out perfect, but I think I burned the sugar on the ollalieberry (a similar berry to blackberries, but bigger). I doubled the recipe without using pectin and had to cook it for too long to get it to sheet. Oh well. Live and learn. I still have strawberry jam from last year - it's not our favorite - so I won't need to make any this season. We are needing to replenish the frozen strawberries and strawberry syrup though. I use the syrup to flavor yogurt, since it's one of those foods that always seems to have unecessary ingredients added to it..

I would love to say that all this fruit comes from our backyard, but since our fruit trees are in their first year, the ollalieberry vines didn't make it, and the blueberry bushes are looking mighty sad, we buy our berries in bulk from either the farmers market or Swanton Berry Farm's u-pick.

Only Ute and I went to the u-pick this year and let me tell you, she was a real trooper. It took us about 3 hours to get all of our strawberries and ollalieberries that will see us through the year, a challenge for any young tyke. But Ute took it in stride, and when she got bored with berries, she made altars for the fairies and ran up and down the rows of tangled vines.

Living in a city, Ute just doesn't get enough running around outside time with limited supervision. At her age, I was roaming my small town neighborhood with barely a hint of the adult gaze upon me. I am saddened that she will never experience that kind of freedom, but trips to the farm give her the occasional taste.

Luscious Lemons

Last week I was at my friend Christine's house in Alameda when out of her second story bedroom window I spotted the most exquisite Meyer lemons. Their plump, juicy yellowness at the zenith of ripeness beckoned to me and as if in a dream, I floated towards the glass. The next thing I knew, I was hanging out the window, plucking the sweet scented spheres and chucking them onto the bed. I wrasseled that tree in full Crocodile Hunter style, with a ferocity that only a true champion of the Meyer lemon could exhibit. My friend found me draped over a tree limb with only my knees planted firmly against the edge of the sill to prevent a 15 plus foot fall. With slack-jawed bemusement, Christine admitted that she had been trying to figure out how to get those lemons for years. I felt like MacGyver.

The lemons were pretty darn ripe and needed to have something done with them and fast. I went with the Moroccan salt preservation method. They'll be great in a late summer tagineperfumey foods, though Ute and I thought it was delicious.

Flowerama

Speaking of flowers, I've been making syrups with the backyard lavender and roses. The lavender syrup is definitely a touch too heady, but I think it might work over a pound cake.

The neighbor's had a whole mess of roses that were getting eaten up by earwigs so I harvested the petals and made rose syrup. Tastes great in hot tea. With the way I consume the Queen's drink, however, I doubt that the jar will last two weeks!

Poultrypalooza

I've been preparing a lot of poultry lately and as most of you know, I'm not one to waste any bit of the bird. At a recent dinner party, I believe I actually screeched at my guests to not throw away the bones. Clearly I won't be winning any "hostess of the year" awards in the near future. In my book, nothing compares to the rich broth that comes from simmering the bones of a well spiced, roasted bird. The flavor of the broth reflects the way the the meat was prepared and the types of seasonings used, creating a stock that is always unique. At this point, I can't even bear to use canned stock, its flavor so inferior as to be nearly inedible. If you've never made your own broth, just try it. It's easier than you might think. I just throw the carcass or bones into a roasting pan, fill up with water, and simmer in a 350 oven for several hours, checking, of course, that the water doesn't completely evaporate.

At same said dinner party, while attempting to dazzle my companions with my special Moroccan chicken, I forgot to pull a roast duck out of the oven that was taking longer to cook than I had expected. Well I cooked the crap out of that duck, consequently feeling an utter failure with my first attempt to prepare this kind of bird. In the midst of me wailing on and on about the damn duck, one of my lovely guests turned to me and with a tone of seriousness that I can only liken to a military command said "I'll tell you how you are going to fix that duck." I snapped out of my little pity party. "How?" "You're going to make a confit by shredding the meat and marinating it in the fat from the pan." "Are you sure that will work? Won't it still be tough?" I queried. "No way," says my pragmatic friend, "It's going to be soooo succulent with all that duck fat." And then she did this lip smacking thing that was kind of gross. But she was right. It was scrumptious enough to make slightly disgusting gestures and sound effects with one's face.


Fermenting Fools


Did you hear that stores are pulling Kombucha from the shelves because they're worried about the alcohol content? Apparently, it might be more boozy than once thought. I'm thinking the whole thing is a bit overblown. I've had my fair share of experiences with alcohol and am no stranger to its effects, even if I no longer partake. Though I have felt a little "high" after drinking Kombucha, I certainly have never felt remotely drunk, even being the light weight that I am.

Frankly, I'm stunned that folks will lay down three plus bucks for a small bottle of the stuff from Whole Foods when you can make gallons of it for pennies. And the making is really not complicated. When I started my SCOBY (Symbiotic Colony of Bacteria and Yeast), I had my panties all in a stir, worried that I was going to mess it up and poison myself with some unwanted mold, but it's really as simple as making a pot of tea. A POT OF TEA! Really. I'm totally not exaggerating.


Ute and I really like the stuff, so we've got two cultures going at the same time. Esteban says he'll just stick with his beer that he's been home brewing (details to come). Fine, more for us I say.

What have you all got going on in the kitchen right now?