Posts Tagged ‘summer’

“PB & J”

sandwiches. by you.

I am so, so excited about this post. I’m practically bouncing in my chair with glee writing this because not only have I been waiting months to finally try this idea out, but it turned out to be an amazing success.

There’s no big story as to where I got the inspiration for this dish. I was musing to Rach in late July that I wanted to get an ice cream maker and play with flavors, and I mentioned the idea of a peanut butter ice cream/concord grape sorbet sundae, like “PB & J” – how fun would that be!? And then because for me it’s over-the-top or nothing, I wanted to go a step further and play with the “sandwich” idea even more, came up with this.  Concord grape sorbet sandwiched between peanut butter cookies.  “PB & J” turned up to 11.

"PB & J" by you.

This is one of those desserts where I’m clinging onto summer by my fingernails, refusing to let go.  Ice cream and sorbet will soon be replaced with apple tarts and pumpkin breads, so this is my final hurrah.  The tricky thing here is concord grapes are only in season for about a month – during Sept/October, thus me waiting a few months before I was able to make this. I stubbornly wanted only concord grapes since that’s the classic jelly pairing with a PB & J sandwich.  I had to call around a bit before I found a few pints at a Whole Foods nearby and snatched them up tout de suite. The flavor of the sorbet is so intense, so childhood-reminiscent turned grown-up complex it’s perfect for the beginning of fall and that back-to-school feeling in the air.  Sandwiched between sweet, sugary-rich peanut butter cookies… it’s hard to describe just how awesome it tastes.  You’ll have to try it yourself (now! go!) to find out.

concord grapes. by you.
Concord grapes, hello.

colorado peach ice cream

mmmm peach nectar. by you.
Don’t you love when life imitates art?  Top Chef is one of my favorite TV shows, and in particular, the episode where they have to ‘improv’ with twists (based on their attendance of a Second City performance) has always been one of my favorite episodes.

That’s how I felt with this recipe.  Honestly, it’s my fault.  Usually I meticulously read over a recipe before grocery shopping and prepping, but I didn’t in this case and hoo boy, did it bite me in the ass.  I got an ice cream maker (finally!) as an early birthday present for myself, and knew immediately I wanted to make peach ice cream since they are beyond incredible in Colorado right now.  So I looked up a recipe from Martha Stewart, glanced over it, and got my groceries.

I’ve made ice cream before working at Lidia’s, so the concept was not completely foreign.  But after slicing up a few peaches and tossing them with a ton of sugar to marinate, I looked for her specific instructions on how to make her custard (where you temper the eggs and hot cream to cook the eggs), only to find… nothing.  I panic. I read the recipe 1,000 times. It literally has you combine the raw eggs, milk, sugar, and freeze it.  Since my sister was once a pastry chef, I message her immediately, showing her the recipe.

Me: See, she has you use normal custard ingredients but you never cook them anywhere!

DeAnna: …. what? Let me look. :: pause ::  Well that’s weird.

pits are ugly, but oddly gorgeous. by you.
We both looked. We both couldn’t figure it out. It just had to be a horrible typo.  So I’m sitting here with just the right amount of ingredients to make Martha’s failtastic ice cream and decide to fly by the seat of my pants and make a basic custard from the Pie and Pastry Bible, a few other recipes online, and my own MacGuyver-like intuition.

And who would’ve thought, but it turned out fabulously!  Despite making way too much mix, overfilling the ice cream machine, and wishing I had mashed the peaches instead of chopping them, this was still delicious.  Great texture (not grainy at all), very subtle peach flavor, and not too sweet. Remembering that our intern Kara at work had finally been promoted to full-time, salaried gloriousness, I figured bringing in a container for her as congrats was in order, which I’m sure my hips appreciated so I wouldn’t have 3 containers of ice cream sitting in my freezer.

peaches. by you.
Peachy keen.
fuzzy. by you.
Fuzzy.
girls and boys. by you.
Boys and girls.

roasted chile burger + spicy popcorn

get em while they're hot! by you.
In one week exactly I will have lived in Colorado for a year, and so far my favorite culinary namesake of the area has been microwbrews… until now.  For the past few weeks I have seen endless stands boasting roasted chiles everywhere and after asking some native friends, found out chile season is quite the to-do in the area.  Farmed in Colorado’s ideal climate and altitude and then tossed in a twirling metal basket over blistering heat, the chiles are roasted perfectly all over and sold by the bag according to heat levels.  When I saw the bags at my local farmer’s stand, I was instantly inspired and snatched up some Big Jims, a medium Anaheim-like pepper.

I know I’ve already done a turkey burger this summer on the site, but the idea of chopping up the chiles and putting them in a turkey patty alongside an equally spicy sidedish just sounded too good.  Topped with more chiles, pepperjack cheese, and salsa, the burger goes over-the-top in spiciness and peppers, but through and through, the roasted chile sings.

As for the accompaniment, it may sound weird to have popcorn as a side dish, but it’s actually one of my favorite things to play with since it’s fast, easy, and extremely calorie-friendly.  Plus, popcorn is actually wildly popular to serve alongside ceviche in many Latin American and South American countries, so it’s not too crazy… at least to me.

steamy, spicy, so awesome. by you.
Get ‘em while they’re hot!
peeking in. by you.
Peeking inside.

grandma esther’s sweet and sour cucumbers

one tasty bite. by you.

People often ask me what inspired me to cook — when it happened, why it happened, etc.  I have a myriad of memories that led to me becoming the cook I am today, from being inspired by my sister when she was a pastry chef to becoming obsessed with Food Network when I was 17. The earliest memory of the bunch being an odd obsession with this gorgeous illustrated copy of “The Junior Fannie Farmer Cookbook” in my elementary school’s library when I was 8 or so.  It was only recently I remembered it and brought it up to my mother, who remarked nostalgically “I thought it was so bizarre at the time.”  Thanks, Mom!

But currently it’s my maternal grandmother Esther’s recipes that inspire me the most right now.  I never got to meet her, sadly, but in a way, I feel like I got the ‘cooking gene’ from her.  Although she mostly cooked at home, the rare exception would be Fish Fry Fridays at the bar my grandparents owned many moons ago called “Stick’s Tap” in downtown Milwaukee.  The only recipe we have from Stick’s is her coleslaw (also a winner), but my mother keeps all her other recipes in this ancient little wooden box under our microwave at home, and they’re always incredibly simple, cheap, and tasty.  Few are very summer-friendly (mostly awesome heavy meat action, thick sauces, etc.) but this (like the coleslaw) is one of the exceptions.

I like to think of this dish as ‘pickles unpickled.’  It’s like eating the pickling jar contents before you boil, seal and let sit for a few weeks.  Don’t approach this dish if you’re afraid of vinegar, that’s all I can say.  It’s got a handful of ingredients often seen in dill pickles, comes together in about 15 minutes, and can be eaten straight away, or chilled for a bit if you prefer it a little more refreshing. This is a popular side dish in any Slavic cuisine (for my family this means Polish but I saw something similar to this dish everywhere when I lived in Russia).  It’s sweet, sour, cold, and a fantastic side dish for any grilling or BBQ.

a little salt bath. by you.
Quick toss with salt.
be gone, bitter liquid! by you.
Be gone, bitter liquid!
dill. by you.
Mmmm fresh dill.

my favorite roast chicken with root veggies

roasted. brown. crispy. delicious. by you.

I love it when recipes almost go completely against everything you thought you knew. Growing up, roasted birds were to be slathered in butter, stuffed with herbs and spices and all sorts of vegetables, cooked for hours on end and fussed around with endlessly. True, my own Thanksgiving turkey follows these guidelines quite a bit (except I brine instead of butter) and there is great merit to everything I just said, but this method throws all of that out the window, and it is still my favorite way to cook a bird.

All you do is take a whole chicken, clean it, dry it really well, season with salt and bake at a screaming hot temperature for very little time, and you’re done. That’s it. Seriously.

The method comes from Thomas Keller of French Laundry and Per Se fame, restaurants known for froufrou and ultra-complicated recipes so it only seems ironically fitting that the chef who authors the recipe would be the last person I would imagine making a bird this way. But I suppose that’s the point. It’s all about the best ingredients, the best method, and the best results. That’s what true A1 cooking is about, in the end.

Since the method is so simple, makes enough for 4 servings and chicken is so versatile, this is the one of the best things for a single cook, in my opinion.  Knowing I would be in Denver all week for the photo shoot of our upcoming cookbook (exciting times!), I made this to have around so dinners would be extra easy since I would be pulling long hours all week. The things you can do with leftover chicken meat (especially meat this good) is endless, and you could easily feed off it all week.  Not to mention saving the carcass to make stock with, but that’s for another time.

Also, huge thanks to Red Wagon Farm’s stand for supplying the veg.  Not only is their produce to die for, they’re the sweetest ladies around and have extra long hours on Sundays.  Thanks girls!

local veg all laid out. by you.
Local veg all laid out.
rainbow carrots in a row. by you.
Row of rainbow carrots.
cippolini onions. by you.
Cippolini onions, my very favorite.