Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Mini Chocolate Walnut Cakes
Dear Devon,
I am not usually drawn to chocolate cakes. Sure, I enjoy the occasional bite of chocolate, and will never turn down an opened bag of peanut M&Ms, but in the end, I tend to prefer desserts without chocolate. So, it is a bit surprising that I falling into the world of chocolate obsessions.
The discovery of bricks of 70% chocolate has changed my world. Technically, the Catalans do not use this type of chocolate for baking but rather for their rich afternoon hot chocolate, usually taken with churros or melindros. Initially ignorant of this differentiation, I grabbed a bar for random snacking and occasional baking. It was a lucky mistake. Now I am embarking on a new adventure: chocolate desserts.
The chocolate is so rich that it needs something more to balance the heady chocolate flavor. I tried making this cake in a larger, traditional cake form with port-infused prunes. Delicious, but the prunes were lost in the smooth, rich chocolate flavor. Next, I tried adding grated ginger, but even 1 ½ tbsp of ginger could not stand up to this intense chocolate flavor. Perhaps the best alternative is nuts: walnuts, pistachios, or my personal favorite, hazelnuts. I set out this morning to try my theory. Will the addition of nuts bring my chocolate cake to a new level?
I was a bit too caught up in my lofty goal to make adequate preparations to ensure optimum success and low levels of stress. The truth is, no matter how large your kitchen, there is never enough counter space, the sink is full of dishes, or you need two whisks and can only find one. I was a bit frantic in the kitchen trying to pull this one together. But now, seated in front of my glowing laptop screen, chocolate cake by my side, I have almost forgotten that I splashed melted chocolate on my blue sweater and that I forgot to turn on the oven.
And even with my organizational challenges, I plan to add this recipe to my rotation. It is not a difficult recipe. It does not require an entire battery of bowls, knives, or whisks. But it does call for a bit of planning. In the end, the rich moist cake studded with creamy buttery walnuts, cloaked in the intense flavor of chocolate, will make the chore of scrubbing bowls seem insignificant.
Next on the list: Flourless Chocolate Cake
Mini Chocolate Walnut Cakes
Makes 6 small cakes or one large 9 inch cake
6 oz butter
4 oz chocolate (70% cacao)
2 eggs
1 tsp red port
¼ cup walnuts, chopped
½ tsp cinnamon
1/3 cup sugar
½ cup flour
¾ tsp baking soda
2 pinches of salt
Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Butter and lightly flour muffin tin or cake pan. Set aside on a large baking sheet until ready to use.
Dice butter and coarsely chop chocolate. Set a heatproof bowl over a pot of simmering water. Add butter and chocolate to the bowl and gently melt, stirring occasionally to encourage even melting. Stir in port. When the mixture appears smooth and glossy, remove and set aside to cool.
Sift together flour, baking soda, cinnamon, and salt. Set aside until ready to use.
In a large bowl, whisk eggs for about 30 seconds, just to break them up. Gradually begin adding sugar, whisking vigorously until all the sugar has been incorporated. Whisk until the egg-sugar mixture is about double in volume, thick and a bit frothy. It should be a light lemon yellow color. Add flour in two additions, mixing just until the flour is incorporated. Fold in melted chocolate-butter mixture and 2/3 of the chopped walnuts.
Spoon batter into prepared pan. Sprinkle with remaining chopped nuts. Bake in pre-heated oven for 30 to 35 minutes or until a toothpick or cake tester inserted into the center comes out clean. Cool on a wire rack before serving.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Botifarra and Onion Marmelade
Dear Devon,
In early December, the Wall Street Journal published an article on botifarra, a traditional Catalan sausage made of ground pork and simply seasoned with salt and pepper. I was not surprised to see botifarra appear front and center on WSJ’s food page. I have been enjoying its rich and meaty flavor for weeks. One bite of this subtly seasoned sausage laced with black truffles will send anyone running to the butcher for more. I am especially fond of botifarra incorporated into tomato sauces or slowly braised with shredded cabbage. But my recent obsession has been in the form of a lunchtime sandwich. I pan fry the botifarra in a bit of olive oil. The links satisfyingly crackle and sizzled on the hot pan, the ends curl, and the skins crisp up nicely.
Found in every meat stall and butcher shop in Barcelona, botifarra at its most basic form is a lean pork sausage, without any of the trappings of luxury. Beyond this, the flavors are limitless ranging from the expected: wild mushroom, eggplant or basil to the wildly adventurous like pizza or chocolate flavors. It comes in four types: fresh, white (made with eggs), a black blood variety, and offal. I prefer fresh or botifarra blanca.
A sausage this good calls for a worthy condiment, something beyond bright yellow mustard or vinegary ketchup. I whipped up a quick dressing that I dubbed caramelized onion marmalade. It consists of sweet, golden caramelized onions mixed with fresh, crunchy diced red onions, a touch of spicy Dijon mustard, a splash of balsamic and a drizzle of olive oil. This marmalade was inspired by some of your creamy and tangy mustard sauces of lunches past.
Baguettes were sliced and toasted and smeared with a generous mound of onion marmalade. For “nutritional” value, I added a few pieces of leafy greens. The just-cooked through botifarra was eased on top, tucked into the lettuce and onions and topped by a second piece of toasted baguette.
For both our sakes, I will forgo tasting details. It would be too tortuous. Let’s suffice it to say that I will be enjoying this for lunch again soon.
Onion Marmalade
1 medium-sized red onion, thinly sliced
¼ cup red onion, small dice
2 sprigs rosemary
1 tbsp olive oil
3 tbsp port wine
1 ½ tbsp Dijon mustard
1 tsp balsamic vinegar
1 tbsp olive oil
2 sausage links (botifarra, if you can find it)
1 large baguette
lettuce
In a medium-sized skillet, heat 1 tbsp of oil. Add onions and rosemary sprigs and turn heat to low and slowly carmelize onions, 15-20 minutes. Throughout the carmelization process, add a touch of port to the onions to prevent scorching. When the onions are evenly browned, take off the burner and allow to cool.
While the onions are cooling, finely dice red onion, place into a medium sized mixing bowl. Add cooled carmelized onions, Dijon mustard, balsamic vinegar and olive oil. Mix thoroughly. Set aside for 10 minutes before serving.
In a non-stick skillet over high heat, cook sausage, roughly 7-10 minutes. The skin should bubble up and be a bit charred.
Halve baguette. Using a serrated knife, slice lengthwise. Spread a generous spoon of onion marmalade onto the bottom slice of each halved baguette. Top with lettuce and sausage. Place remaining slice of bread on top to close the sandwich.
In early December, the Wall Street Journal published an article on botifarra, a traditional Catalan sausage made of ground pork and simply seasoned with salt and pepper. I was not surprised to see botifarra appear front and center on WSJ’s food page. I have been enjoying its rich and meaty flavor for weeks. One bite of this subtly seasoned sausage laced with black truffles will send anyone running to the butcher for more. I am especially fond of botifarra incorporated into tomato sauces or slowly braised with shredded cabbage. But my recent obsession has been in the form of a lunchtime sandwich. I pan fry the botifarra in a bit of olive oil. The links satisfyingly crackle and sizzled on the hot pan, the ends curl, and the skins crisp up nicely.
Found in every meat stall and butcher shop in Barcelona, botifarra at its most basic form is a lean pork sausage, without any of the trappings of luxury. Beyond this, the flavors are limitless ranging from the expected: wild mushroom, eggplant or basil to the wildly adventurous like pizza or chocolate flavors. It comes in four types: fresh, white (made with eggs), a black blood variety, and offal. I prefer fresh or botifarra blanca.
A sausage this good calls for a worthy condiment, something beyond bright yellow mustard or vinegary ketchup. I whipped up a quick dressing that I dubbed caramelized onion marmalade. It consists of sweet, golden caramelized onions mixed with fresh, crunchy diced red onions, a touch of spicy Dijon mustard, a splash of balsamic and a drizzle of olive oil. This marmalade was inspired by some of your creamy and tangy mustard sauces of lunches past.
Baguettes were sliced and toasted and smeared with a generous mound of onion marmalade. For “nutritional” value, I added a few pieces of leafy greens. The just-cooked through botifarra was eased on top, tucked into the lettuce and onions and topped by a second piece of toasted baguette.
For both our sakes, I will forgo tasting details. It would be too tortuous. Let’s suffice it to say that I will be enjoying this for lunch again soon.
Onion Marmalade
1 medium-sized red onion, thinly sliced
¼ cup red onion, small dice
2 sprigs rosemary
1 tbsp olive oil
3 tbsp port wine
1 ½ tbsp Dijon mustard
1 tsp balsamic vinegar
1 tbsp olive oil
2 sausage links (botifarra, if you can find it)
1 large baguette
lettuce
In a medium-sized skillet, heat 1 tbsp of oil. Add onions and rosemary sprigs and turn heat to low and slowly carmelize onions, 15-20 minutes. Throughout the carmelization process, add a touch of port to the onions to prevent scorching. When the onions are evenly browned, take off the burner and allow to cool.
While the onions are cooling, finely dice red onion, place into a medium sized mixing bowl. Add cooled carmelized onions, Dijon mustard, balsamic vinegar and olive oil. Mix thoroughly. Set aside for 10 minutes before serving.
In a non-stick skillet over high heat, cook sausage, roughly 7-10 minutes. The skin should bubble up and be a bit charred.
Halve baguette. Using a serrated knife, slice lengthwise. Spread a generous spoon of onion marmalade onto the bottom slice of each halved baguette. Top with lettuce and sausage. Place remaining slice of bread on top to close the sandwich.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Eggs over Bacon-Infused Croutons
Dear Devon,
If you haven’t already guessed, one of my biggest anxieties is an empty kitchen. Normally, my kitchen is never in such a barebones state that this should be a worry, but a fridge without eggs or milk is empty by my standards. Given the Spanish penchant for holidays, I am never sure when the market will be opened or closed. I had planned a short midweek vacation before the holidays. I did a whole round of grocery shopping before leaving just to be safe.
My list included fresh bread. Nothing beats the smell or taste of fresh bread. But, unfortunately, it has drawbacks, namely preservation. Generally, this is not a problem, but this time I was gone for three days, leaving my bread on the counter. I returned home to a rock hard loaf. I now understand how recipes like bread pudding, croutons, and panzanella originated.
I pulled together a quick breakfast, by frying cubes of the hardened bread in a bit of bacon-infused olive oil. Onions and rosemary were tossed in for some extra flavor and a bit of warmth. Crispy fried eggs topped this savory mountain of old bread. I was careful to keep the yolk loose. I wanted the broken, gooey yolks to ooze into the crannies of the hardened bread. It’s a little messy but definitely worth the clean up.
Eggs over Bacon-Infused Croutons
(serves 2)
½ loaf of stale bread
2 slices of thick bacon
1 small onion, sliced
1 sprig dried rosemary
1/3 cup to ½ cup olive oil
2 eggs
With a heavy knife, dice hard bread. Be careful with your fingers. I found cutting through the bread a bit scary. Fry chopped bacon in a sauté pan. Remove the browned pieces of bacon from the pan and set aside. Add a touch more olive oil, about ¼ cup of fat, including bacon fat. Gently fry cubed bread in oil. Sprinkle in dried, crushed rosemary leaves. Drizzle with olive oil as the bread cooks to encourage even browning and flavoring. The bread will soften as it soaks up the fat and eventually begin to toast up into crunchy morsels. Add sliced onion and cook until translucent. At the end, toss in the bacon. Remove the entire mixture to an awaiting bowl. In the same pan, fry eggs sunny side up.
To serve, scoop out a generous spoonfuls of toasted bread mixture onto a plate or bowl.
Note: I avoided salting this dish, as the bacon is already quite salty.
If you haven’t already guessed, one of my biggest anxieties is an empty kitchen. Normally, my kitchen is never in such a barebones state that this should be a worry, but a fridge without eggs or milk is empty by my standards. Given the Spanish penchant for holidays, I am never sure when the market will be opened or closed. I had planned a short midweek vacation before the holidays. I did a whole round of grocery shopping before leaving just to be safe.
My list included fresh bread. Nothing beats the smell or taste of fresh bread. But, unfortunately, it has drawbacks, namely preservation. Generally, this is not a problem, but this time I was gone for three days, leaving my bread on the counter. I returned home to a rock hard loaf. I now understand how recipes like bread pudding, croutons, and panzanella originated.
I pulled together a quick breakfast, by frying cubes of the hardened bread in a bit of bacon-infused olive oil. Onions and rosemary were tossed in for some extra flavor and a bit of warmth. Crispy fried eggs topped this savory mountain of old bread. I was careful to keep the yolk loose. I wanted the broken, gooey yolks to ooze into the crannies of the hardened bread. It’s a little messy but definitely worth the clean up.
Eggs over Bacon-Infused Croutons
(serves 2)
½ loaf of stale bread
2 slices of thick bacon
1 small onion, sliced
1 sprig dried rosemary
1/3 cup to ½ cup olive oil
2 eggs
With a heavy knife, dice hard bread. Be careful with your fingers. I found cutting through the bread a bit scary. Fry chopped bacon in a sauté pan. Remove the browned pieces of bacon from the pan and set aside. Add a touch more olive oil, about ¼ cup of fat, including bacon fat. Gently fry cubed bread in oil. Sprinkle in dried, crushed rosemary leaves. Drizzle with olive oil as the bread cooks to encourage even browning and flavoring. The bread will soften as it soaks up the fat and eventually begin to toast up into crunchy morsels. Add sliced onion and cook until translucent. At the end, toss in the bacon. Remove the entire mixture to an awaiting bowl. In the same pan, fry eggs sunny side up.
To serve, scoop out a generous spoonfuls of toasted bread mixture onto a plate or bowl.
Note: I avoided salting this dish, as the bacon is already quite salty.
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