Tag Archives: food

Crisp Spiced Nuts and Kicking Off the Holidays

30 Nov

Many years ago, I worked in the book industry.  Part of my job entailed getting to know as-yet-unpublished books, then promoting them as I (read: my employer and the publisher) saw fit.  When you receive an advance copy of a book that is not yet published, you tend to get a slightly different view of the book than most of the other people who later read the book will receive.  Sometimes your advance copy arrives in the form of a simple advance reader, a paperback copy of the book with a mostly spot-on version of the to-be published cover and words contained within. You might also receive an uncorrected proof of the book, meaning a copy of the book that is intact as a story, but not yet fully combed over by its editors and proofreaders (yes, those are two very different jobs) in order to purge the book of slight inconsistencies or errors.  If you are truly ensconced in the game, you might get your hands on a manuscript of a book, which could come in a form of a veritable ream of paper that has either been bound with glue and given a makeshift cover (fancy), stuck into a 3-ring binder (medium fancy), or neatly filed away in a padded manila envelope (not so fancy).

What can be found in any of these copies of pre-published books is sometimes extremely memorable, though more often than not you tend to forget what you’ve seen in them once the final, published version of a book comes out.  Once I read an advance copy of a book that boasted an entire chapter that ended up being removed from its final form.  Sometimes, if you are really paying attention, you can even notice certain sentences or phrases that ended up being altered.

Such was the case for one book that came out over a decade ago and happened to catch my fancy.*  In one particularly memorable paragraph, there reads an opening statement meant to convey a particular person’s penchant for Christmas.  The published line ended up reading, “Our mother was a Christmas extremist.”  To the point, for sure, but the opening sentence in the advance copy I read months before the book came out had me laughing out loud.  The original opening sentence?  “Our mother was a Christmas crackhead.”

Now, I can see why an editor would want someone to change that line.  If you are coming from the standpoint of someone who thinks you can convey that thought in a more conventional manner, with words that are perhaps not as hilariously pithy (to some, perhaps not to others), then sure, by all means, there is a case for changing the last word.  But coming from a strictly deadpan comedic standpoint, the original line is a total keeper.  To this day, I still remember that original sentence.  Every year, right around December, it never fails to pop into my head.  And the reason is because I, too, am a total Christmas crackhead.

I freaking love Christmas.  I love Christmas baking.  I love Christmas lights.  I love Christmas trees.  I love seeing throngs of people walking around wearing scarves and wool coats and complaining about the crowds of people pulsing around them.  I love Christmas display windows, I love Christmas toy drives, I love thinking up as many reasons as I can to surprise someone with Christmas treats.  See what I mean?  Total Christmas crackhead.

Which brings me to the point of this whole post.  My friends, have I got some Christmas recipes for you.  Using Christmas as my excuse, I am here to pummel you with recipe after recipe for the holiday season.  You want pies?  There will be pies.  Tarts?  Yes.  Snacks?  Oh, yes.  It is my sole intention to completely exhaust your kitchen this Christmas season, and to share with you all my complete and utter devotion to the joys of Christmas as it relates to your kitchen.  And your belly.

To start things off, I’ve got this superb recipe for crisp spiced nuts.  With their spicy cayenne kick and savory-sweet glaze, they not only make a perfect snack to nibble with a glass of wine or a cocktail, but, portioned out and dressed up in a nice gift box or jar, they make a fantastic host or hostess gift.  Keep in mind, however, that if you intend to share these nuts, you’d better start giving them away as soon as you possibly can after making them.  Wait too long, and you are likely to end up eating them all yourself, such is the sheer intensity of their tasty allure.  I have been known to (inadvisably) eat these for breakfast.  While I can’t say it was the best decision I ever made, I also can’t admit to completely regretting it, since, god help me, it was a mighty delicious breakfast while it lasted.

*I am really sorry, but I am fairly certain that I would upset someone by revealing which books this is.  The line was changed for a reason, so I probably shouldn’t be waxing nostalgic about something not meant to see the light of day.  I do not wish to cause any hurt feelings.

Crisp Spiced Nuts

(a recipe from my husband’s family)

2 large egg whites

1 teaspoon flaky sea salt

¾ cup sugar

2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce

2 tablespoons sweet Hungarian paprika

1 to 2 teaspoons cayenne pepper (the determined amount will depend a lot on the heat of your cayenne pepper—ours is quite hot, so I tend to use 1 heaping teaspoon, which provides enough heat to flavor the nuts without making me uncomfortable while I eat them)

4 ½ cups nuts (I like to use a mix of almonds, hazelnuts, and pecans)

¾ stick (6 tablespoons) unsalted butter, melted and cooled.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.

In a large bowl, beat egg whites until very foamy.  Gradually beat in sugar, Worcestershire, paprika, salt, and cayenne.  Stir in nuts and melted butter.

Spread nuts in a single layer on a large baking sheet or roasting pan.  Bake in middle of oven, stirring every 10 minutes, until the nuts become crisp when cooled, about 25-40 minutes.  To test a nut for crispness, carefully remove it from the oven and allow it to cool slightly.  The nut’s glaze should turn firm and crisp after 2 or 3 minutes.

Remove nuts from oven when they still appear sticky, but a tested nut confirms that the glaze will turn crisp when cooled.  Spread the nuts on a sheet of foil to cool, separating the nuts as much as possible so they don’t harden into big clumps.

Slow-Cooked Beans and Huevos Rancheros

28 Nov

Do you have room in your hearts for yet another recipe from my home’s recent Mexican food bender?  Being fairly certain that there was no one left who wanted to hear about my intense, heated affair with making Mexican cuisine at home, I was all set to keep this recipe to myself.  Enough with the Mexican food, I thought, and, besides, do people really need instructions on how to cook a pot of beans?

Well, maybe.  Because it occurs to me that, most of the time, when people want to cook a pot of beans, they do so with a minimal amount of thought in regard to how one can take something as unromantic as dried beans and turn them into a truly savory and pleasing meal.  It might have something to do with the fact that, being a simple food, beans are not generally thought of as being a particularly exciting food, which I completely understand.  Beans are humble, and definitely fall low on the flash and glitter scale.

So I propose a bit of a redo when it comes to thinking of beans.  How about we treat them like the unfettered palette they are, and, much like we are prone to do with a potato or a batch of plain pasta, put a little extra love into making them shine?  Add some spices, chop some onion, and let those beans slowly simmer until they are soft, flavorful, and satisfying.  I have a friend who makes the best chili in the known universe, and one of his not-so-secret secrets is to add a bit of Mexican chocolate to his pot of chili.  Chocolate and beans go together like, well, beans and rice, and, with a touch of cinnamon and ginger added into the fold, you can give your beans a subtle hit of the unexpected that, trust me, you’ll want to replicate time and time again.

Another tip?  Think beyond a plate of beans and rice (though, as I have mentioned, we certainly don’t turn up our noses at beans and rice), and use your slow cooked beans to build a delicious plate of huevos rancheros.  A little roasted pepper here, a bit of ranchero sauce there, and you’ve got the makings of one special breakfast (or lunch…or dinner…I mentioned that I was on a huge Mexican food kick, right?).

Slow-Cooked Beans and Huevos Rancheros

Slow-Cooked Beans

I learned a little while ago that the secret to really soft beans with no disagreeable after effects (ahem) is to add a bit of baking soda to the beans while they are cooking.  The baking soda breaks down the skins of the beans, making everything incredibly soft without being mushy.  As an added bonus, adding baking soda to your beans will eliminate the need to soak the beans overnight, which I am terrible at remembering to do, so I never do it.  Also, I don’t have a slow-cooker, but I’ll bet this recipe could easily be adapted to one so you could toss everything in first thing in the morning and then have everything read to go by the time you get home from work.  If anyone tries it out, let me know how it goes.

2 cups dry beans, rinsed well (we like a mixture of black beans and red beans)

2 quarts of water

½ teaspoon baking soda

½ cup finely chopped yellow onion

2 cloves garlic, finely minced

2 teaspoons ground cumin

1 teaspoon chili powder

1/8 teaspoon ground ginger

1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper

2 teaspoons unsweetened cocoa powder

pinch Mexican oregano

pinch cinnamon

½ teaspoon salt

½ teaspoon black pepper

In a large pot, combine beans and water.  Bring to a rapid boil.  Lower the heat to a simmer, then stir in baking soda.  The water will foam up vigorously.  Keep stirring until the foaming subsides, then add the onions, garlic, cumin, chili powder, ginger, cayenne pepper, cocoa powder, Mexican oregano, and cinnamon.  Stir to combine.

Bring mixture up to a simmer, then cover and cook for 1 ½ to 2 hours hours, stirring occasionally.  Add salt and pepper, stir to combine, and taste for softness.  If you find that you want your beans softer, cook for an additional 30 minutes.

Huevos Rancheros

This is our basic method for making 1 serving of huevos rancheros.  You can, of course, double or triple it as you wish.

1 green bell pepper or poblano pepper

1 or 2 corn tortillas

1 egg

1 teaspoon vegetable oil

salt and pepper

Extras: ranchero sauce, salsa, shredded cheese

Heat your oven’s broiler on high, and place an oven rack on the highest setting.  Place pepper on a baking sheet.  When the broiler is hot, place the baking sheet and pepper directly under the broiler, and roast the pepper until the skin is uniformly blistered and blackened, turning the pepper for even roasting, about 5-7 minutes.

Remove the pepper from the oven, place it on a plate, and cover the plate tightly with foil, allowing the pepper’s skin to steam free while it cools.  When the pepper has cooled enough to handle, peel off the blackened skin, remove the stem and seeds, and slice the pepper into narrow strips.  Set aside.

In a small skillet, heat oil over medium low heat.  When oil is hot, gently fry the corn tortillas, one at a time, until it is soft and pliable, about 20-30 seconds.  Remove tortilla to a plate, and crack the egg into the pan.  Fry the egg until it is as done as you like it (I like a runny yolk but a firm white).  Place cooked egg on top of the heated tortilla, and sprinkle with roasted pepper.

Adorn your huevos rancheros with slow-cooked beans, ranchero sauce, or salsa.  Good to eat at any time of the day.

Pear and Chocolate Bread Pudding

21 Nov

Do you believe that the subconscious can really drive one’s actions?  That inclinations deep inside you can dictate your unwitting behavior?  Sometimes I really do wonder, most pointedly because lately, completely contrary to what had previously passed as the norm around here, I have been leaving loaves of delicious, crusty bread out on the counter, allowing them to become stale beyond the limits of standard consumption.  But then, stale and slightly dry, what do they then magically transform into?  Perfect bread for bread pudding, that’s what.

I will eat bread pudding in any form.  Made with brioche, a baguette, or, as is the standard at the legendary Heathman Restaurant and Bar, lightly drizzled with warm caramel sauce, I do not believe that there is a bread pudding I would not eat, love, and cherish to the very end.  (Except perhaps for that one horrifying recipe I once saw that made bread pudding with Krispy Kreme doughnuts, sweetened condensed milk, and a couple of tins of fruit cocktail.  No.  Just no.)

My preferred bread pudding is decidedly mellow on the sweetness front, but high on soft bites of custardy bread with lightly crisp edges.  Sure, I’ve made highly sweetened bread pudding before, but that sweetness seemed awfully fitting in order to offset the decidedly puckery effects of fresh rhubarb.  Though I loved that bread pudding more than I think I could ever be able to fully explain (the self-forming sauce it made was, in a word, magical), I think I have finally come up with another bread pudding that just might have a fighting chance of dethroning the reigning rhubarb champ.

Studded with chunks of pear, streaked with bittersweet chocolate, and only lightly sweetened with a dark brown sugar custard, this is a bread pudding that comforts without overwhelming the senses.  With a snap of pear and a rich hit of chocolate in each bite, you are able to savor each forkful without wondering if you will ever be able to walk again, button your trousers again, survive without supplemental insulin again.  I am not sure how it is possible, but this dessert manages to be somehow both subtle and attention-commanding at the same time.  It’s a rare feat, but surely one you won’t forget or regret.

Pear and Chocolate Bread Pudding

1 French baguette, cut or torn into 1-inch chunks and allowed to become slightly stale, or toasted very lightly to dry them out just a tad (you should have about 5 cups of bread chunks total)

1 pear, peeled, cored, and chopped into ½-inch chunks

½ cup coarsely chopped bittersweet chocolate chunks

3 large eggs, lightly beaten

2 cups milk

¼ cup dark brown sugar

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

pinch of cinnamon

pinch of nutmeg

pinch of salt

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.  Lightly butter a 13” x 8” baking dish and set aside.

In the buttered baking dish, combine the bread chunks, pear chunks, and chopped chocolate.

In a medium pot set over low heat, combine the milk and sugar and whisk together until the sugar has dissolved.  Slowly pour in the beaten eggs, whisking as you pour.  Add the vanilla, pinch of cinnamon, and pinch of salt.  The heat should stay on low, and the mixture should never come close to boiling.

Remove the pot from the heat.  Carefully pour the heated milk mixture over the bread and pear mixture, being sure to coat and soak every piece of bread.  If necessary, lightly press the bread chunks down with the back of a spoon, coaxing the bread into the milk mixture in the bottom of the baking dish.

Tightly cover the dish with foil and bake for 30 minutes.  Remove the foil, then bake for an additional 10-20 minutes, until the bread is puffed up with golden edges, but the middle of the bread pudding is moist and the custard has been absorbed.