Giving Thanks

Last year I was just glad to have a job and a house (such as it was).  This year, I've got a bit more to be thankful for and better late than never, here's my list:

New friends
Old dogs
Blue cheese
Dark beer
Classic rock
All-terrain tires
Thick socks
Fallout: New Vegas

This is by no means an exhaustive list and there are two people who should have been singled out a long time ago:

Ryan D: whose quick thinking in The Elite's kitchen saved me from severe disfigurement--dude...thanks.
Nick W: my mentor and friend (and one of the finest chefs anywhere).  Thank you. 

On a lighter note, next year I'd really like to be thankful for a new set of Le Creuset bright red, cast iron dutch ovens...hint, hint. 

Quiche I Guess

It's always the same:

Manager to me:  "Make sure you get something to eat."
Me:  "No thanks, I'll cook when I get home."
Manager:  "What are you going to make?"
Me:  "I don't know; quiche, I guess."
Manager:  "Oh."

I hate being put on the spot.  I usually don't know what I'm going to cook for dinner until I'm standing in the grocery store.  I'll find one ingredient that looks great and kind of build a meal around it.  It's weirdly flattering that people think I'm organized enough to plan out my meals in advance, but it's also absurdly inaccurate.  Frankly, most days I haven't a clue what I'm going to be hungry for later on and when I'm pressed for an answer I just blurt out the first thing that comes to mind..."quiche, I guess."

The first time this happened I didn't even want quiche for dinner, but it sounded good and had the desired effect of stopping the conversation dead.  I ate that quiche--prosciutto and shiitake--at one sitting and have been making them ever since.  Asparagus and roasted red pepper; black bean, corn and green chile; Serrano ham, Gouda and shaved truffles...all very fine quiches, but there will never be another like that first...

Quiche I Guess

1/4 c butter
4 scallions, thinly sliced
8 oz prosciutto, diced 1/4"
8 oz shiitake mushrooms, stems removed, diced 1/4"
1 large shallot, finely chopped
1 garlic clove, minced
3/4 c white wine (I use Pinot Grigio)
6 small basil leaves, finely chopped
1 tsp fresh thyme, finely chopped
1 tsp dried oregano
1/2 tsp ground white pepper
1/4 tsp salt (I use Brittany Grey Sea Salt)
4 eggs
3/4 c whole milk
1 prepared 9" pie crust

Preparation:

1.  In large saute pan, melt butter over medium-high heat.
2.  Cook prosciutto, mushrooms, scallions, shallots and garlic until fragrant (4-5 minutes) and liquid is almost gone.
3.  Add wine to pan and continue to cook until no liquid remains.
4.  Stir in basil, oregano, thyme, salt and pepper and reduce heat to low.  Cook 2-3 minutes (until fragrant).
5.  In small glass bowl, beat eggs and milk on high speed with electric mixer for 1-2 minutes. 
6.  Preheat oven to 375 F.
7.  Press prepared pie crust into 9" pie or tart pan and fill with pie weights (dry beans may be used instead of pie weights).
8.  Bake crust only until set, remove from oven and remove pie weights.
9.  Fill crust with mushroom mixture and pour egg mixture over the top.  Stir gently to mix ingredients.
10.  Bake quiche 25-35 minutes until center puffs up and crust is golden brown.
11.  Let stand 15 minutes to allow quiche to set.  Serve warm.

Serves 6-8 people or 2 large dogs

In Pursuit of Perfection

Thomas Keller once said, "...there is no such thing as perfect food, only the idea of it..." 

I was reminded of this sentiment yet again last night.  My Chicken Saint-Pierre (recipe from Galatoire's, New Orleans) was almost ruined by the poor-quality cayenne that I stupidly purchased in bulk from The Fresh Market.  It turned out to be far too spicy and I would have tossed the whole sauce if I'd had enough tomatoes to start over. 

Wandering the aisles deciding what to make for dinner, Chicken Saint-Pierre had seemed like the perfect meal.  I carefully picked out the ripest heirloom tomatoes.  I chose a light, tart pinot grigio for the sauce.  I found a wonderfully crusty-yet-chewy baguette.  I remembered the pencil-thin asparagus I had blanched the day before and decided that grilled, it would make the ideal side.  I could taste it all before I even left the store and it was beautiful.  It was going to be perfect.  It wasn't, and I was crushed.

I won't bore anybody with the details, but to make a long story short, I saved the sauce (it just wasn't St.-P) and the chicken was tasty, flavored just slightly with a bitter hint of disappointment.  I went to bed thinking about what I'd do differently if I had it to do over again and I'm still thinking about it today, but I'm also already thinking about the "perfect" alfredo that I'm planning for tonight. 

Goodbye Benny, Hello Franklin!

A moment of silence please--my starter, Benny, is dead.  He was a good 'ol boy and birthed enough sourdough loaves to feed an island nation, but his usefulness has come to an end.  We were actually doing fine until the power went out after hurricane Irene blew through and we lost the fridge for a week.  Benny went from the fridge to an ice-filled cooler where he began to look a bit peaky, then to the counter in our ninety degree house (which sucked beyond belief) and somewhere in there he just gave up the ghost.  I've spent the last month unsuccessfully trying to revive him, but alas, his course is run.

So.

I'd like to say that out of respect for Benny, I'll never make another starter, but I'm not really that sentimental.  In fact, I've already made another--his name is Franklin and he's living in Benny's old jar.  The true test of Franklin's merit will begin next Thursday (baking day) when we will see just what sort of bread he shapes up to be, but in the meantime, he's looking very promising indeed.

I did find this last loaf of Benny bread in the freezer and shall be munching it with a sigh...

Benny Bread Recipe

(a not-too-sour sourdough)

1 cup sourdough starter

2 cups water at room temperature

7 cups flour + small amount for dusting

2 tbsp granulated sugar

2 tsp salt

milk

1.  In large mixing bowl, combine starter, salt, flour and sugar and mix well.

2.  Add water in a thin stream, stirring continuously until dough pulls away from the side of the bowl and forms a ball.

3.  On well-floured surface, knead dough until smooth--approximately 10 minutes--and then roll into a ball and place seam-side down in a well-oiled bowl.  

4.  Cover bowl loosely with plastic wrap and set aside to rise (2-3 hours).

5.  When dough has risen to approximately 1 1/2 times its original size, divide in half and roll each half into a log or ball (depending on desired loaf type.  Place dough into two oiled loaf pans or onto one large, oiled baking sheet.  Cover loosely with plastic wrap and let rise again (1-2 hours) until doubled in size.  

6.  Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

7.  Slash top of loaves with thin knife and brush lightly with milk.

8.  Bake 25-30 minutes or until loaf sounds hollow when tapped and crust appears golden brown.