Stick A Fork In It, I Am Done Series: “Over Cooked, Over Done"

[The topic of this article was initiated by the Youngest in order to instigate the Eldest to finish it off. And that, she did. Thanks, Yo.]

In life, some relationships come to an end. People part for lots of reasons. For some, the parting is mutual and a good thing; for others, it sucks but you move on.

And then, there are the “over’s”.

These are the over-stayers, the over-diners, the over-whiners.

They just don’t take “no” for an answer. They keep holding on for dear life for whatever is left – just a morsel of anything. A call here, an email there- anything to keep the casual whining and dining going. Meanwhile, they are completely oblivious to the fact the other half of the party has finished the main course, stashed the goodie bag, cashed out and sped off after hitting the valet.

An “over” wants to order the same damn menu each and every time- the same old conversations, the same gripes, same jokes, the same BS. And they expect what they ordered will be served… which is strange because the kitchen has been closed for quite some time.

It’s tough when you deal with an “over” because you find yourself singing for your supper anyway, with niceties and random social banter. You do it all so you don’t hurt that person’s feelings. But that is a cardinal mistake, like grabbing a bite to eat at The Outback Steak House. You always feel worse after than you did before.

The situation is overdone; so don’t let the “over” sucker you in for another course. You had your fill, so be done with it.

And if the “over” is still hungry, tell him to ask his wife to make him a sandwich.

- The Eldest

Are You There Claudia? It’s Me, Youngest.

Over the years I have acquired quite a cookbook collection.  Perhaps that is an understatement.

Correction.  A cookbook library. 

These are not just merely for decoration, or to have for random references to pull out on game night.  These beautifully bound pages chronicle different styles, techniques, moments of my journey through Pastryland.   Each one offers a friendship and hope that help me through creative block moments.  As each page unfolds my eyes grow wider.  New inspiration unleashes itself and an idea is born. 

I can admit that I went through what I would like to call my “snobby” phase.  Only fine dining cookbooks would suffice my urges and of course all the Pierre Herme collection.  Then there was the “informational” phase; the one stop scientific shopping, Harlod McGee’s On Food and Cooking and The Sweet Kitchen.  Vintage was in and Maida Heatter was all the rage.  Books over $250 was a brief addiction but due to the lack of funds a quick kick in Martha Stewart and then a right hook into everything Spanish.  The green monster, Ramon Morato’s Chocolate, as I call it, still leaves me breathless and bursting with creative fruit flavor.

But overall, the book that I at times crawl into bed with and slowly turn the pages of after a hard service or a fight with a friend…

The Last Course by Claudia Flemming.   She is my Judy Bloom. 

I will never forget the day I came across her book.  I was living in Boston and was cruising the cookbook section of Borders.  Basically, the porn isle for chefs.

A simply cover with three miniature pictures on front.  A delicate blueberry tart, perfectly caramelized pineapple, and a mouth watering waffle.   Perfect.  Delicate. Simple.  The book fit perfectly in my hand and all the way to the register.

Claudia Flemming, the former pastry chef of Gramercy Tavern, is an inspiration to me.  Sure doesn’t use fancy hydro-collides, or use high-tec equipment.  She uses the basic knowledge of good pastries, great products and gracious execution as her guide.  But more importantly, for me at least, is that this book reached out to me and made me realize pastries could be simple and sexy.  After working in ultra-fine dining you think a completed plate has fifteen components, when really it could just have one and be just as mind blowing.  From her chestnut honey Madelines to the salted caramel chocolate tart all to her goat cheesecake, this book consistently provides foolproof recipes that any cook, professional or home, would be proud to create.

So, I leave you with a recipe from Mrs. Flemming.  Jot it down, save it for later.  But I promise you will be pleasantly surprised at the pure brilliance of her work. 

You can thank me later.

-Youngest

Lavender Lemon Pound Cake:

1cup butter

4T dried lavender

5 eggs

1.5 cup sugar

1.5 cup + 2T cake flour

 ¼ t salt

1T lemon zest- grated

1t vanilla extract

¼ cup lemon juice

 

Method:

Preheat the oven to 350F.  Butter and flour a 9X5 loaf pan.  Melt 1T of butter and steep the dried lavender with it for 10 minutes.  Strain and cool.

With the whisk attachment- whisk the eggs and 1 cup sugar until thick and pale.

Sift the flour and salt.  Fold the lemon zest and a third of the flour into the egg mixture till combined.  Fold the rest of the flour in two batches.  With one cup of the batter whisk with the melted butter and vanilla extract.  Pour back and mix into the original batter.  Pour the batter into the prepared pan.  Bake the cake until tester comes out clean.  Meanwhile, combine ½ cup sugar, lemon juice, and ¼ cup water to a simmer.  When the cake comes out of the oven brush the lemon juice mixture on top, when slightly cooled take the loaf out and brush again (top and bottom) with the lemon glaze.

Eldest Strikes Again

My Love/Hate Relationship:

There is a very thin line between love and hate.  Because both emotions require such a large amount of energy from oneself; they are somewhat one in the same.  The truly scary part is how easily the transfer can be made.  It can happen in an instant- and you weren’t even aware anything transpired. 

There are two things in this world that I love and hate the most. 

Macaroons and boys with tattoos.

You see, macaroons are one of the most beautiful and fickle things in the world.  You could do everything right from blending your TPT flour to the proper consistency to folding your whites in correctly but still they refuse to give you that perfect uniform foot.  You just want to cry and bang your head against the table. Why would they do this?!  Such betrayal! It’s heart breaking really! I just don’t understand… I did everything right! 

But in that moment where you see them uniformly rising in the oven like perfect discs you raise your hands to the gods and praise yourself for such amazing ability.    When you get to take them out of the oven and fill them, you notice how perfect and delicate each one is.  This is a truly religious experience.

The same thing applies with boys with tattoos.  Well, more or less. 

I have seen macaroons made a hundred different ways.  One to two to three additions of egg whites in some sort of fashion be it in a meringue or just plain whites.  Mixing, straining, pulverizing your almond flour, silpats, fiber glass, parchment paper, flat sheet pans, metal trays, rationale or convention oven, air or proofer drying, you name it, I’ve tried it.  And I think I found the perfect way.  You see, I have found it best to use old egg whites, at roomtemp.  Using a convention oven with a low fan.  Super flat metal sheet trays with very thin fiber mats.  And for the one real trick that is the opposite of what I have always been told.  Don’t be gentle and easy when folding in meringue.  Beat the living shit out of it.  Look for a beautiful shine and proper piping consistency.  Allow to dry out- place in oven and bake till set.  Pure perfection.

Which comes to my second love/hate relationship.

Boys with tattoos. 

I’ve tried all things, being aloof, super “fun girl”, self sufficient, one of the guys, inappropriate, thoughtful, and still haven’t found the perfect way to woo.  Boys with tattoos, and perhaps even ones without, are indeed super fickle.  I can’t dry them out in a 240F oven hoping that they will mature or hell, blend them to the proper consistency so they don’t act so self-important.   Trying different sheet pans attempting to make them more consistent in their affection and altering drying out times to see if maybe they learn how to take a proper girl out.   Perhaps, changing the ratio of sugar will keep them from being so mean sometimes.  I’ve even tried beating the hell out of them like my beautiful macaroons and again, NOTHING. 

I’ve come to the conclusion that macaroons are overall the better of the two.  They are beautiful, delicious, and if you treat them right, they never let you down.

Boys with tattoos...  Well, piss off.

-Youngest

Cookie Therapy

Yours Vs Mine

Stick A Fork In It, I Am Done Series: “I Don’t Date Poultry”

By Eldest

I usually leave all blog writing to the Youngest and stick to what I know, which is not much. But I had an itch to share something that has come to my recent attention.

When did it become socially acceptable to have important personal conversations solely via technology?

I am sure this topic is not new to you. Tons of articles have been written on this very subject. New human psychologies are being developed because of such a phenomenon.

Yes, technology has brought people together in ways we could never imagine. The world is moving faster than ever before, and we need technology to stay connected.

So, yes, we are lucky. We have the Internet, text messaging, the Facebooks, the MySpaces, the Tweets to help keep us together.

OK, fine.

But where do you draw the line between using technology to stay connected vs. using it to hide or deal with personal matters? Aren’t there just some things that are better dealt with live?

Perhaps, it is just me. But I think we have an epidemic on our hands. OK, perhaps I am being melodramatic, but I think we have a new recipe for social disaster.

It’s called the “Modern Chicken.” **

Modern Chicken Recipe

Prep: 20 min (the amount of time it takes “Modern Chicken” to draft his/her sorry ass message).

Cook: 40 min (time it takes to get “MC” to pull trigger… press send, return, post, etc; basting in alcohol or other liquids helps this process)

Cool: 10 min (this is what the “MC” thinks he/she is after sending out communication, which in fact he/she is not.)

Yield: 8 cups chicken and 8 cups broth, more than you will ever know what to do with

Ingredients

6 bone-in chicken breasts (about 4 pounds)

2 quarts water

1 garlic clove – optional

1 bay leaf – optional

2 teaspoons salt – optional

1 teaspoon pepper – optional

Optional items are not required since blandness is the typical form of taste for most “Modern Chickens.”

Preparation

Bring all ingredients to a boil in a Dutch oven. Cover, reduce heat, and simmer 30 to 40 minutes or until done. Cool chicken slightly; remove and discard skin and bones. Chop meat, and store in airtight containers in freezer up to 3 months. Strain and reserve broth to use fresh or freeze, if desired. Broth may be frozen in airtight containers.

After cooling and prepping for storage, take your tush out for a drink with your friends or go order a pizza because you deserve WAY better than this.

We all know a Modern Chicken or two. Perhaps at certain times, you were a chicken yourself. But I have to tell you, you gotta stop. It’s not appetizing.

Modern Chickens just leave a bad taste in my mouth. Perhaps it is because I have had enough helpings for a lifetime.

My rooster of a father decided to tell me he was getting remarried in 3 weeks by sending me a voice message. A past boyfriend was too chicken shit to break up with me live, so he did it via email. And just recently, I have been asked out by a number of dry cutlets via txt message and sad Facebook pokes and postings. I have officially lost my appetite.

Seriously, is it too much to ask to pick up the phone? Or better yet, to say whatever needs to be said to one’s face? Is it the fear of someone’s reaction that is going to cook you for good? But, wouldn’t you want the same courtesy?

Have some taste for peat sakes. We would all be a lot more satisfied if you did.