Quiche Lorraine

Dear Devon,

Farm fresh eggs. A friend gave me a present of four eggs, real farm eggs from her grandmother’s chicken coop in a small Catalan mountain village. I’ve tried to explain the difference between American and Catalan eggs for my friends from Barcelona. I am still surprised by their natural creaminess and neon orange color. That’s when the egg-collecting grandmother entered the discussion. Her small flock of chickens lays eggs for her city living granddaughter.


In the interest of continuing my education, several eggs were carefully packed in newspaper and given to me. That’s the thing about the people here; they are exceedingly generous. If you show the slightest interest in anything, it will be insistently pressed into your hand. Refusal is not an option.


To enjoy this gift to the maximum, I dusted off the tart form and settled on Anne Willan’s decadent Quiche Lorraine recipe. Eggs, crème fraiche and lardons are the major players in this over-the-top quiche. It’s the perfect mix of creamy eggs and smoky freshly fried bacon enclosed in a flaky and buttery crust. It comes out of the oven puffed and steaming hot. Willan suggests eating it straight from the oven for maximum flavor, which we did, but we also enjoyed cold slices for breakfast the next day and the next.


Quiche Lorraine
(from Willan, Anne. The Country Cooking of France p. 46)

Pate Brisée
1 2/3 cups flour
1 egg yolk
¾ tsp salt
3 tbsp water
6 tbsp butter

Filling
1 tbsp butter
7 oz lean smoked bacon, cut into lardons
2 eggs
1 cup crème fraiche

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

In a food processor, combine cubed, chilled butter with flour and salt. Pulse until small peas form. Add egg yolk and pulse, three or four times. Add water, tablespoon by tablespoon, pulsing the machine until the dough just comes together. The amount of water used depends on the humidity of your kitchen. You may not need to use all the water. When a rough dough forms, turn out the dough and lightly knead on a floured surface. Form into a ball and rest in a lightly oiled bowl. Cool in the fridge 15 to 30 minutes.

Roll the chilled dough to ¼ inch thick on a lightly floured surface. Line tart pan with dough. Using the tines of a fork, prick the dough all over and fill with pie weights. Bake the shell until light golden color, roughly 20 minutes. Remove from the oven and cool on a cooling rack.

For the filling, cook lardons until lightly browned and crisped. Remove from the pan using a draining spoon and cool on a plate lined with super absorbent paper towels. In a bowl, whisk together eggs and crème fraiche. Line the cooled pie shell with lardons and pour in the egg mixture. Bake until the filling is set and golden brown, 30 to 35 minutes.

Jelly Donut Muffins

Dear Devon,

Orwasher’s Bakery on East 78th Street between 1st and 2nd Avenues has memorable jelly donuts. They are made daily in small batches and usually sell out by noon. Bigger than a clenched fish, the donut is rich and dense, capped with an even layer of powdered sugar, and filled with a thick red jelly. These are probably the best jelly donuts I have ever eaten.

I used to live around the corner from Orwasher’s. On Sundays, I often intended to rise before noon to capture one of these coveted confections. I was disappointed many times -- evidently I wasn’t the only person enjoying them. About a year ago, I decided to settle my craving for jelly donuts and crossed the Park before noon on a Sunday. To my surprise, the bakery is under new management. Though they kept the Orwasher’s name, the secret of the jelly donut disappeared with its previous owner. Quel horreur! With the memory of this jelly donut floating in my thoughts, I attempted to create something that embodied the character of the jelly donut.

What exactly made these donuts so good? Perhaps it was the spongy texture, or the overwhelming density? Maybe the thick, almost opaque jelly, or the generous dusting of powdered sugar? I like to imagine Jewish grandmothers placing them into the sticky hands of their grandchildren before the days of transfat regulation.

Having identified the three most important traits of the donut, I referenced the Joy of Cooking for inspiration and guidance. I combined three recipes 1) the basic muffin recipe 2) “donut” muffins and 3) filled muffins. Basic muffins batter is self-explanatory. “Donut” muffins are muffins dipped in melted butter and tossed in sugar and filled muffins have jelly or cream centers. These three recipes served as my launching pad.

I substituted half and half to get a richer, denser crumb and to create a fattier, creamier morsel. A high quality cherry jelly is essential to the success of any jelly donut. The jelly squeezed into an Orwasher’s donut was more like a custard than jelly -- thick and opaque, deep ruby red, and smooth. I loved taking that first excited bite and tasting the sweet jelly that oozed into my mouth. Each consecutive bite became more treacherous as jelly mischievously seeped out of hidden pockets. I opted not to pipe jelly into my muffins. Instead, I filled each muffin cup half way full of batter then dropped in a generous spoonful of jelly before topping with second large dollop of batter. Surprisingly, the jelly doesn’t sink to the bottom, and remains intact throughout the baking process. In place of powdered sugar, I sweeten the muffin tops with a much tidier cinnamon sugar. The spicy fragrance of cinnamon enhances the first bite and contrasts nicely with the sweet cherry jelly. I don’t think Mr. Orwasher will mind.

In the end, I was more excited by the idea of making jelly donut muffins than the result. The muffin tasted fantastic, and looked good. Cinnamon sugar pairs nicely with the simple creamed based muffin and tangy cherry jelly. There were no complaints at my brunch table: I would definitely make them again. I enjoy their whimsical character. But, in the end, I was doomed from the start. Muffins will never be donuts, and I probably shouldn’t have tried to deceive myself. So far, I still haven’t found a substitute for Orwasher’s jelly donuts…


Jelly Donut Muffins
Makes 12

2 cups flour (1 cup all purpose, 1 cup cake flour)
1 tbsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
2 eggs
1 cup half and half
6 tbsp vegetable oil
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 cup cherry jam (more as needed)

1/4 cup sugar
1/4 tsp cinnamon
3 tbsp melted butter

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Butter a 12 tin muffin tin. To maintain the illusion of a donut, I do not line the muffin cups with paper liners. I like the rough texture of the muffin bottom. Set aside buttered tin.

Whisk flours, baking powder, and salt together in a large bowl. In a separate bowl, whisk together thoroughly half and half, eggs, vegetable oil, and vanilla extract. Add egg mixture to flour and stir until just combined. Be careful not to overmix.

Fill each muffin cup roughly 2/3 full. Top with a small spoonful of jelly, roughly 1/2 tsp each, centered in each muffin cup. Cover each muffin with a generous spoonful of the remaining batter.

Bake for 17-20 minutes, until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Cool on a drying rack before removing from the muffin tin.

Combine sugar and cinnamon. In the bowl of a double boiler, melt butter. Brush muffin tops with melted butter. Dip muffin top into prepared bowl of cinnamon sugar. If you are feeling extra decadent, double the recipe for cinnamon sugar and toss the entire muffin in this sweet, spicy mix.

Eggs En Cocotte

Dear Devon,

There is little to complain about and much to celebrate in Barcelona. That being said, adjusting to life here has its challenges. Aside from the obvious language barrier, which will soon be conquered, my biggest annoyance is the plumbing. Europeans built incredible, soaring cathedrals in the 12th century- how can the logic of the bathroom escape them? It seems that every bathroom should come equipped not only with a toilet, sink, and shower, but also with a mop. The flimsy plastic curtain doesn't quite reach the lip of the shower floor, which pretty much guarantees that water will splash everywhere. After three nights, I solved the mystery of how to shower without flooding the entire bathroom. Long American-style showers are not an option in our narrow, coffin-like ducha. I won't even get into the funky smells. After all, this is a food blog.

We have already had a slight laundry mishap. I don't blame our small, but adequate, washing machine. It was a case of operator error. Unfortunately, what began life as faintly rose colored t-shirt has blossomed into a still desirable, if unintentional, purple one. I'm not sure which was the culprit: The dark blue shirt, the detergent, or the water temperature (a scorching 40 degrees C or 104 degrees F for the unschooled). The difference between 40 degrees C and 40 degrees F is pink to purple.


The apartment is equipped with a washing machine, but no dryer. Using a clothesline four floors up in a narrow light shaft is a tricky operation. As of now, no articles of clothing have been lost to the neighbors' cantilevered radiator hood... but I'll let you know if my favorite shirt ends up there.

Your big question for me is: How is the food? My reply: I don't really know yet. So far, I can only tell you about the markets. Covered markets dot the landscape of Barcelona. In three days, I've been to four, two of them twice. Dining out is always nice, but what's the need when the markets are stocked with amazing produce? I bought fresh eggs from a lady who only sells eggs. I made an easy scramble with pasta, beans, and tomatoes, and fried them for ham sandwiches. These are eggs like I've never tasted before. The yolks are practically orange, when cooked they have the richness of butter and an almost cream-like consistency. I already regret when American eggs will once again be the norm.

Before leaving New York, I became obsessed with baked eggs. I first tried out this recipe for an intimate brunch hosted on our roof deck. I loved them so much that I made it three more times that week. The elegance of the dish obscures the relaxed ease of the recipe. All you have to do is crack an egg into a ceramic ramekin filled with a splash of hot cream and top it with cheese and dill. It's hard to imagine how something so simple can taste so incredible. The egg white firms up in the oven, while the yolk remains gooey and buttery. Dill and eggs are a natural combination, and when mixed with freshly grated Fontina cheese, they bring out its grassy undertones. Puncture the bright yellow yolk with a large shard of buttered grilled toast for maximum enjoyment.

Spanish eggs will pump up this already amazing dish another notch. I'm dying to try it out. But first, I have to find an apartment with an oven.

Eggs en Cocotte
(serves 2)

2 eggs
2 tsp cream
1 tsp butter
1 tsp dill
1 tbsp shredded fontina cheese
2 wedges of tomato

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Arrange two ramekins on a baking sheet. Add 1 tsp of cream and 1/2 tsp of butter to each ramekin. Bake in the oven on the top shelf until cream-butter mixture is bubbly, about 5 minutes.

While the ramekins are in the oven, prepare your ingredients. Cut one tomato in 1/8's, finely chop dill, and shred fontina cheese. Remove the baking tray with bubbling hot cream-butter mixture from the oven. Crack one egg into each ramekin. The egg should start sizzling as it hits the hot cream. Place one tomato wedge into each dish. Be careful not to hit the yolk. Sprinkle with a small pinch of salt. Top each dish with 1/2 tsp of dill and 1/2 tbsp of shredded cheese. Pop in the oven and cook until the whites have set: 5-7 minutes for a runny yolk, 10 -12 minutes for a hard yolk.

Serve with large shards of buttered toast.

P.S. These photos were taken pre-Barcelona. As of now, nothing extraordinary has emerged from my kitchen here.

Aunt Lynaire's Scottish Scones: Blood Orange and Pecan, and Lime Cranberry

Dear Michelle,

I'll admit, I was trying to be cute. Knowing me as you do, you might guess how I feel about Valentine's Day, and so it would come as a surprise to you that yesterday morning found me making blood orange and pecan scones. My humbuggery had a karmic backlash, however, and turned the scones blue.

You can't see it too well from the photo, but the scone was as blue as blueberry pancakes (the dark in the middle is chocolate). I was being lazy; we'd gone out already that day (Jeff got me some more of that amazing salami and some bulk Valrhona chocolate for Valentines day. I'm more opposed to the holiday in theory than I am in practice, especially when I get presents like this), and we'd forgotten the buttermilk. That was the first in a chain of possibly avoidable reasons that my should-have-been-pink scones ended up blue.


I'd read about making sour milk to replace buttermilk. In fact, the original recipe for these scones calls for it. To make sour milk, you put 1t-1T of vinegar into 1c of milk, and let sit for 5-15 minutes. I used Trader Joe's Orange Champagne Muscat vinegar, one of my favorites, thinking that the orange flavor could only improve the final product. Turns out I was wrong; I knew this vinegar was not as acid as most, and that ended up being my first big mistake. My next was using the resulting milk even though it had not visibly curdled. The dough was gooier than usual, but I forged ahead anyway, and then was surprised to see blue-green lumps on my cookie sheet instead of pretty pink scones. If you don't care about the why and want to get on with your life, skip the next paragraph.


Now, I've made blood orange scones before, and they were pink, and pretty, and delicious. In fact, this is the only time my scones have gone wrong. The latent science nerd that I am, I figured that it must have been a pH thing, but my first couple of Google searches produced nothing. So I dug the remains of the blood orange out of the trash, squeezed a few remaining drops of juice into two glasses, and proceeded to test my theory. I added a little bit of baking soda to one glass, and sure enough, it turned blue. Then I added some vinegar (not the champagne muscat) to the other glass, and it turned redder. Since my previous blood orange scones have not been blue, I figured that the acid protects the color, and if the dough remains acid enough the color will be pink. I added some baking soda to the acid glass, and it took a whole lot more to turn it. Further Google research revealed that the anti-oxidant compound (which is really, really good for you) that makes blood oranges red is also in blueberries, red grapes, acai berries, and red cabbage. Remember using red cabbage to test for PH in high school science class? Apparently they'll all work.


So, the moral of all that is to not be lazy and go out and buy buttermilk. Or, if you sour fresh milk to substitute, use high-acid vinegar or lemon juice and wait till it curdles. Even if you are not making the scones with anything that might turn into a less-than-appetizing color, they will have that baking soda taste if there's not enough acid.

Now, onto the scones, original recipe, and my good fortune to have it. From the time I was about 2 years old till the summer I turned 22, my extended family on my father's side would all get together at Lake Tahoe for a week each July.

From the deck, taken sometime during my college years

These vacations were truly idyllic, even in my teenage years. An only child, I was thrilled to spend time around my cousins, whose company I enjoy even more now as an adult. We'd sun on the pier, jump into the lake and come up gasping from cold, fish for crawdads, watch movies, and double in laughter as our fathers ran down the stairs in their underwear to "protect" the cabin from the bears smashing up the trash cans ( I mean, what were they going to do about it?). The best part, though, were the mornings and the evenings.


Taken with a Holga camera, also sometime during my college years

We the third generation all slept in the living room, in sleeping bags and on couches. In the morning, sun would hit the lake and the reflected light shimmered on the ceiling of our makeshift bedroom. The sound of geese or the smell of coffee from the first awake adult would compete with the heat and light to wake us. We'd crawl out, one by one, bleary eyed, to see what we were getting for breakfast. My Aunt Lynaire, a warm smiling woman who is always ready with a hug, is an ace cook. Both of my aunts are, and my mother too; we are a family that values a good meal, and I learned so much watching them all in the kitchen those summers. Waffles and scones were Lynaire's domain, and those were things I never got at home (we had a waffle iron once, but I'm pretty sure my father broke it somehow), and so were very exciting. She would make two or three kinds of scones, and we'd fall upon them like a pack of starved dogs. They were hearty, fluffy, crispy and moist, steaming from the oven and made for slathering with butter and jam. There were never any leftovers.

Sometime after our summers had been discontinued due to the difficulty of getting my grandparents up there, I asked Aunt Lynaire for her recipe, which quickly became a favorite in our small household of two. I couldn't count how many people have been converted by this recipe to scone lovers; it makes me so sad when people say they don't like scones, because I'm sure they've only tasted the Starbuck's version, and nothing like these before. Saying you hate scones is a surefire way to get invited to brunch. In anticipation of sharing these with you, I asked her recently if she minded. She said of course not, but that she'd made some changes to the recipe, which I will share as well.


Aunt Lynaire's Scottish Scones

original recipe from Breakfast in Bed Cookbook: The Best B and B Recipes from Northern California to British Columbia by Carol Frieberg. Some changes have been made. See Lynaire's notes below for additional instruction.


1 c cake flour
1 c all-purpose flour
2 T sugar
1/2 t baking soda
1/2 t salt
1/4 c cold butter
1/2 c dried fruit, soaked in hot water for 15m, then drained
Zest of 1 citrus fruit (optional)
1/2-3/4 c walnuts or pecans, chopped or broken
3/4 + 2T buttermilk (can also substitute orange juice for 2T)

Preheat oven to 400. Sift dry ingredients. Cut butter into dry ingredients till it forms a fine-crumb texture. Add plumped fruit, or whatever, and mix together. Make a well in the mixture and add liquids, mixing lightly with a fork just until a soft dough is formed. Turn onto lightly floured surface and knead gently, turning only two or three times. Place dough onto lightly greased cookie sheet and pat into a circle, until about 1/2-3/4 inch thick at the edge. Score with a knife into six pieces. Bake for 15-20 minutes, or until golden brown. Serve hot with lots of butter and preserves.


Notes:

I like the following combinations:

lime and dried cranberry or cherry
lemon poppyseed
orange walnut/pecan
blueberry

Really, any combination of citrus and nuts is really good. I've not tried dried fruits like apricots or mangos, but I bet they'd be good too. If I don't have enough nuts to mix in, I'll chop them finely and mix with sugar, then roll the scones in those before baking, the result of which is a crispy crust. I tend to make six smaller scones instead of one large, and I bake them on a silicon sheet liner, which works very well. I do not sift before measuring, but do spoon flour into the measuring cup and level it. I've used all all-purpose before, to no ill-effect; they are just not as light. The blood orange I used here was oozing oil after I zested it, so I put it in a bowl with sugar, and then used that in the scones as well. I tried a little of the sugar in my tea, though I don't usually go for sugar in my tea, and it had a wonderful flavor. The rest of the sugar is in the refrigerator.


Below is the current version of the recipe my Aunt Lynaire uses, directly copied from an email she sent me. I've not tried it yet, but I know that it will be good.

"Sift together 1 C. cake flour, 1 C. all-purpose flour, 3T. sugar, 1/2 t. baking soda, and 1/2 t. salt. By the way, if you are not in too big of a hurry, I get the best results if I sift these ingredients 3 times. Cut in 1/4 C. firm butter (not too cold) until you have those little pea-sized blobs you always read about. At this point you can add huckleberries (my favorite), nuts, blueberries, whatever. For what it is worth, frozen berries work best - they don't explode all over the place and make soggy spots in the scones. If you have the fresh berries and you don't want to worry with freezing them, then just top the scones with the berries - don't mix them into the batter. Finally, make a well in the flour mixture and add 3/4 C. buttermilk. I usually substitute a couple tablespoons of orange juice (my preference with berries) for the buttermilk. Mix it all quickly with a fork. You do NOT want a smooth batter, as a matter of fact, you may need to add another tablespoon of buttermilk or orange juice to the batter if it won't stick together. It should look very rough - but dump it all onto a very-lightly floured counter and - with floured hands - quickly knead the mess together. No more than 4 or 5 turns. Plop onto a baking sheet (I have the non-stick kind Grandma Banks gave to your mother (Aunt Kim, too?), and me many years ago), and sprinkle with a little course sugar and cinnamon. Or don't. Bake at (my oven thermometer is off, so I guess here) 400 degrees for about 15-20 minutes. This is all guess work here, Devon. I just wait until it is a deep golden brown. The outside is crunchy and the inside is a nice delicate crumb. Uncle Fred and Tom eat the scones with some of my peach-orange marmalade (tasty) or just slathered with butter (my preference in the good old days)."


Enjoy!

Yours truly, age 4, at the lake. I wonder what I was protesting?

Granola Again

Dear Michelle,

I feel like it's been taking me forever to get this post up. Days of attempts to sit down and just write it all out have passed, with nothing worthwhile going from my brain to the keyboard. Finally, I have a day with nothing due and nothing pressing to do, and I am sitting with my laptop at the kitchen table, drinking a pot of delicious white tea, determined that today I will successfully tell you how much I love granola.

I've been craving granola ever since I read your post about it. The cooler the weather gets, the better it sounds, and so last weekend, on a cold, rainy day, my good friend Koren came over with her tiny little baby and we made three different kinds of granola. It sounds ambitious, but when you've dedicated the whole day to granola-making and catching up, it's not only do-able, but relaxing.

The rain was blowing against the windows on and off all day, but we were drinking tea in an apartment warmed by the oven and the scent of toasting cinnamon, nuts and oats. Rain can be so nice when you are watching it from inside, and listening to all of the noises that come along with it: the "swoosh" of the cars passing in the street, the pitter-pat on window panes and roofs and in the puddles, and if you are unlucky enough to be outside, on your umbrella, or oppressively on the roof of your car.

Making so many batches of granola does take a little while, but it provided us with the perfect opportunity to chat about various things and play with the baby, who was on the couch with Jeff most of the time. Nothing warms this girl's heart like seeing her fiancee not only playing with the baby he's been tasked with watching, but also appearing to enjoy it. Except, that is, a perfect hot chocolate, and maybe foie gras.

Koren had come loaded with goodies from the Park Slope Food Co-op, which is legendary on this island of overpriced groceries, and we sorted out what variations we were going to make based on what we had all together:

- walnut, pumpkin seed, orange flavored dried cranberries (I love those things!), and dark chocolate
- pecan, dried cherry, meringue bits, and milk chocolate
- cashew, slivered almond, sunflower seed, dried blueberry

I've mentioned before how much I like this recipe from the site that never lets me down, which was the first I ever tried, and the only one I have tried so far. It really makes a great granola, rich and crunchy but not too sweet, and easy to modify. I kept the wet ingredients, the oats, and the sugar constant for the most part, and substituted various other things for those components that really make granola tasty: the nuts, seeds, and fruits. Meringue bits combined with the butteriness of the pecans made the second variation my favorite. The meringue crunches nicely, like "lucky charms marshmallows" (Jeff's words). I also added puffed rice for lightness; it's not all that noticeable, so next time I'll probably double it.

Granola in Three Variations:

1- Walnut, Pumpkin Seed, Orange Flavored Dried Cranberries, and Dark Chocolate

Dry Ingredients:

2 1/2 c oats (rolled, not instant)
1 1/2 c walnuts
1 c raw shelled pumpkin seeds
2 c puffed rice (doubled from the 1c I used; let me know how it works out)
1/4 c sugar (the recipe called for brown, which I didn't have and didn't want to venture out to get, so I added 1t molasses to the wet ingredients. Do either)
1 t cinnamon
1/2 t ginger
1/4 t nutmeg
1/2 t salt

3/4- 1 c dried cranberries
4 oz dark chocolate, either chopped or in chips ( I used 6 oz, and maybe I didn't mix it up enough, but parts of it were more like granola candy. Which is all fine and good and scrumptious, and if that's what you want, increase chocolate to 6 oz)

Wet Ingredients:

1/2 c unsweetened applesauce (this is the genius ingredient in this granola, and the reason I will always come back to this recipe. I wish I'd tried pureed pumpkin for this version. I'll try it next time.)
1/4 c rice syrup
1/8 c honey
1T oil (I used walnut; use something either mild or complimentary in flavor)
1t molasses (if white sugar is used above)

Preheat oven to 300 F. Combine all dry ingredients except fruit and chocolate in a large bowl, and wet ingredients in a smaller bowl, and mix each thoroughly. Mix together. Spread uniformly in a large baking sheet, and pop into oven. Stir every 10 minutes to ensure even cooking. At 30-45 minutes, when granola smells toasty and looks golden-brown, pull from oven. Stir, very thoroughly if you like your granola looser, less if you like it clumpy, and add fruit now if you are using it. This is one of those times when you add it till it looks like the right amount. At this point I put it in a large glass baking dish to re-use the baking sheet, but if you are one of those lucky people who has several of these, there's no need for that. Once granola has cooled to warm, but is no longer hot, add chocolate and stir gently to distribute. You do not want the chocolate to uniformly coat the granola; it should retain some of it's shape so that you find it in small clumps.
Let cool completely, and put in glass jars (Koren was prepared and brought some) or large plastic bags.

Variation 2: Pecan, Dried Cherry, Meringue Bits, and Milk Chocolate

Follow above directions, with the following ingredients:

2 c oats
1 1/2 c pecans
2 c puffed rice
2 c crushed meringue cookies
1 c chopped dried cherries
4 oz chopped milk chocolate (wait till just barely warn to mix in the milk chocolate; it has a lower melting temp.)
1 t cinnamon
1/2 t ginger
1/4 t nutmeg
1/2 t salt

Wet Ingredients:

use above listed, plus 1 T vanilla


Variation 3: Cashew, Slivered Almond, Sunflower Seed, Dried Blueberry

Dry Ingredients:

2 1/2 c oats
1 1/4 c slivered almonds
2 c puffed rice
1 c cashews
1 c sunflower seeds
1c dried blueberries

Wet Ingredients:

See first variation.

I discovered that mixing all three together is even better than any on it's own. It's a testamentto how good this stuff is that it's almost gone, though we made it last Saturday. I'm not even having it for breakfast, either; this is all snacking.