Sometimes five means two

Just back from spending the Thanksgiving holiday in Maui. *sigh* I always think I know what to expect from Maui: sun, beach, pool, recharge. But, it always catches me by surprise, because it always exceeds my expectations. Well, not the food this time, but everything else that is great about Maui. Sadly, I had very high expectations for my dining experiences, because we were pimpin' our vacay five stars. The food we were served barely eked out two stars. The ahi was not fresh. Ahi not fresh! How can that be? I was sitting at a table that overlooks a gigantic ocean full of fish, and I was served ahi that was so old I smelled the distinguishable odor before I even raised fork to mouth. I begrudgingly gave the resort a pass on the fish, since it was beachside dining. I made excuses for the cook: 1. He spent the morning surfing, but bit it on a huge swell and couldn't get the salt out of his nose; thus, smelling salt above and beyond all aromas; 2. He had a mandatory mai tai tasting before his shift, leaving him incapable of logical decision making, including how to actually sear "seared ahi"; or 3. He was a secret agent. He wasn't actually a cook, but merely played one to sabotage the five star competition; thereby increasing the favorability of his nearby four star resort (starts with a W). So, I set my sights on the next day's Thanksgiving feast. Well, feast it was not; and post dinner was more like, do we have any pretzels left from the flight? I can't even describe the meal, because three hundred dollars later, I'm still shaking my head about it. Robbery? Quite like it; but, not intentional, I'm sure. The staff was so pleasant I feel a bit of guilt dishing their food; but, still. It was bad.

At any rate, we did discover a decent restaurant where I experienced, quite possibly, the best seared scallops of all time. They were wrapped in bacon, which I usually don't eat (it bothers me that pigs don't sweat, but I do appreciate the added value of pork fat), which gave them a deep smokey salty (but not too salty) note that was balanced by the interior of the scallop that was what I can only describe as creamy sweetness, light and dense at the same time. It's the sort of lusciousness you either can't eat fast enough or you move at a snail's pace through the dish, savoring each bite and then regretting that there is one less bite left. The scallop was so pure, it was as if it had rocketed itself from the sea onto my plate. It was really fresh. Then it ocurred to me that it's possible I had never had a fresh scallop (contrary to the point of sale shpeal from the Pike Place Market fish mongers). So, apologies for the lame photo; but, as soon as I snapped a shot of the scallops, the general manager swiftly appeared at our table looking displeased and asked if everything was to my liking. I read that as "stop taking pictures of our food." At any rate, Maui was beautiful and injected me with so much rejuvenation (Mahalo Maui) that I promptly whipped up an entire belated Thanksgiving dinner upon arriving back in good old rainy Seattle.

Upside Down Apple Cake

I can't let apple season fly by without indulging in a few awesome apple treats. I realize I'm a little slow on the uptake (okay, I'm already seeing Christmas cookies on the covers of magazines); but, when you have a baby (toddler; I have to stop saying baby), you're usually late for everything: hair appt. (if you're lucky enough to get one), potlucks (cranky no nap toddler + dish for 38 = late), and family gatherings (they eventually started without us and were making a sweep through the dessert trays by the time we stormed the front doors). Better late than never? Well, I'll let the apple cake speak for itself; and, I'll treat it so lovingly- buttering it up with caramel and then tucking it under a blanket of vanilla infused batter- it will forgive my tardiness. 

Note: Ina Garten's Apple Cake Tatin is the inspiration for this cake; however, I've added butter to the caramel so it mellows the flavor and brings out the nuances of, well, caramel. And, I've fiddled with the batter so that it ends up a bit more voluptuous (no disrespect to Ina; her cake is lovely). 

Upside Down Apple Cake

4 tablespoons unsalted butter, plus extra for greasing the pie dish

1/2 cup packed brown sugar

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

1 1/2 peeled and cored Granny Smith apples, cut into 12 thick slices (one apple should yield 8 slices)

Cake batter

6 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature

1 cup sugar

2 eggs, at room temperature

2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract

1/2 cup sour cream

1 cup plus 2 tablespoons unbleached flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Lightly butter a 9 inch glass pie dish.

Combine the butter, sugar, and cinnamon in a small saucepan and boil for 30 seconds. Pour into the prepared dish and spread evenly. Fan 11 apple slices around the dish. Cut the remaining slice in half and place in the center.

In a large mixing bowl, cream the butter and sugar. Add the eggs one at a time, then add the vanilla and sour cream. Beat until smooth and fluffy, approximately 2 minutes. Sift in the flour, baking powder, and salt and mix just until incorporated.

Spoon the batter over the apples and gently spread to cover evenly.

Place a baking sheet on the rack below the cake to catch any caramel gone wild. Bake 40 - 45 minutes or until a cake tester comes out clean. Let cool in the dish for 10 minutes, then run a knife around the edges to loosen the cake. Place a large plate over the pie dish, then flip it over to invert the cake onto the plate. Let the cake cool before serving (although I always cut into it while it's slightly warm, because I can't wait). Delicious served with a dollop of whipped cream.

Beef Chili

When it’s raining cats and dogs like it is tonight, I don’t venture far from home. You would think Seattle drivers would have this rain thing down; but, that’s a big fat no. Yet, when you practically have a tsunami washing across your windshield it adds a challenge to just seeing, let alone driving. So, I’m staying in and turning to my pantry and freezer to pull together dinner. There are a few canned goods that I consider staples (well, staples if you’re a chili lover like me): tomatoes and a variety of beans. I usually stock up when there’s a good sale; so, I almost always have the ingredients for chili on hand. A note on chiles: there’s a lot of leeway here. Just pick your favorite ground chile and run with it. If you prefer chili powder for its mild heat, cut back on the fresh garlic since chili powder contains garlic. Toward the end of cooking, and after I’ve portioned out a mild version for my daughter, I add a very intense hot sauce, which adds another layer of heat and more complexity. It’s called Total Insanity, and, it’s quite possible I’m committing an act of total insanity for using it. It’s made from habanera, the hottest chile on earth, and it’s not for the weak at heart. It’s the one at chile festivals that has a glass of toothpicks for sampling, instead of the protocol tortilla chip.

Several years ago, I was tooling through Leavenworth, a very charming German city (village) in WA with a friend. It’s amuck with German sausages, sauerkraut, and spaetzle. Who would have thought in her wildest dreams there would be a bottle of Total Insanity set out for tasting? Oddly out of place, it sat among the beer steins, knickknacks, and locally made preserves. My friend dared me to try it (how do I always end up in food dares?). I was surprised by the dare, since he was fully aware that I spent several years in the southwest, where chiles are the southwesterners’ condiment of choice. Since there was a dinner on the line, I dipped the toothpick in the tiny bowl of insanity and touched it on my tongue. It was hot, I mean really hot, but I was fine. Based on my reaction, my friend bypassed the toothpick and grabbed a spoon from the preserves’ sampling. I quickly snatched it from his hand; but, being a guy (which is the only logic I can come up with), he grabbed another sampling spoon and quickly scooped a half spoonful then popped it in his mouth. The only way to describe his reaction is to refer to the iconic cartoon guy whose face turns fire engine red and smoke shoots from his ears. The coughing and spitting began immediately and then he sprinted from the store and ran the five blocks to the car, where there was a cooler of bottled water. He guzzled all the bottles of water. It was total insanity (had to say it). It’s hot stuff.

Beef Chili

Ingredients

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 small diced onion

2 cloves crushed garlic

2 tablespoons ground red chile powder

1 pound ground beef

2-28 ounce cans diced or crushed tomatoes

1 can pinto beans

1 can kidney beans

1 tablespoon honey

1 tablespoon kosher salt

*optional: 1 tablespoon hot sauce

Adapted from my mother’s chili, which includes everything except the spices.

 Heat vegetable oil in a large heavy bottom stockpot over medium high heat. Add onions and sauté until translucent. Stir in garlic.

Push the onions and garlic to the edge of the pan and add the ground beef, breaking it up while cooking. When the ground beef is browned, pull the onions and garlic back into it. Stir in the tomatoes, beans, honey, and salt.

At this point, I portion out my daughter’s serving and place it in a small saucepan. In the adult version, add the chile powder and hot sauce. Bring chili in both pots to a boil, then lower the heat to medium low and simmer for 20 minutes. Taste to adjust seasoning.

Garnish with diced avocado, sour cream, and shredded jack or cheddar cheese. Cornbread makes a delicious accompaniment.

Roasted Veggie and Chicken Quesadillas

If it even remotely resembles a grilled cheese sandwich, my daughter will eat it. So, the trick is to tuck as many veggies as possible under a blanket of cheese and pray she doesn’t see a flash of green while munching down her quesadilla. If she sees green, she won’t eat it. She won’t give it the scratch and smell test. She won’t give it a tiny kitty lick. She won’t even think about it. In fact, she has a similar reaction that a bull has when seeing red: her nostrils flare, she gets riled up and angrily tosses the green food off her tray. If she had horns, she would use them to stab the food and propel it across the room. She’s never had a bad encounter with green food; so, I’ve been trying to figure out the negative association and why she has nixed green from her dining experiences. Possible explanations: 1. Brobee, her favorite stuffed doll, is green; 2. From her very first outdoor playdate (5 mos. old), at the doggie friendly grassy knolls of Green Lake, I told her not to eat grass because it had doggie doo doo on it, which caused great displeasure; or, 3. I feed spinach into a very loud juicer that she calls “cary” (translation: scary), which causes her to say, “back, back, back” as she quickly backs away from it. I may never crack the no-green code; but, in the meantime, I’m doing my best to sneak spinach into blueberry muffins, zucchini into quick bread, and wheatgrass into her strawberry smoothies.


Roasted Veggie and Chicken Quesadillas


Ingredients
5 tablespoon olive oil, divided
1 zucchini, cut lengthwise then chopped into ¼” pieces
1 summer squash, cut lengthwise and chopped into ¼” pieces
1 red bell pepper, seeds and membranes removed, cut into ¼” strips
½ rotisserie chicken, roughly chopped or shredded
1 cup shredded Jack cheese 
4 flour tortillas


Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

In a medium bowl, toss veggies in 3 tablespoons olive oil, sprinkle with kosher salt and freshly ground pepper. Spread veggies in single layer on a parchment lined baking sheet. Bake approximately 20 minutes.

Construct quesadillas: Sprinkle ¼ cup cheese over one tortilla. Top with chicken and roasted vegetables. Top with ¼ cup cheese. Place another tortilla on top. Repeat for the second quesadilla.

In a large sauté pan over medium high heat, add 2 tablespoons olive oil. Place quesadilla in hot pan and cook until bottom is golden and slightly crisp, then carefully flip and cook until golden brown on the other side and cheese is melted. Cut into quarters. My daughter likes quesadillas plain Jane, but I think they’re best served with salsa and guacamole.


Makes 2 large quesadillas

Chocolate Mousse for Chocolate Lovers

 

I’m likely the only girl on the planet that doesn’t secretly or publicly have a passion for chocolate. I like it; I just don’t LOVE it. And, believe me, I’ve seen girls go ga ga for chocolate-out and out crazy-leave your man, skip work, crash your diet cuckoo love for chocolate. Maybe it’s the love catalyst/endorphin releaser in chocolate that makes a girl feel moments of floaty fluffy lovey dovey emotion. I’m not sure, because it doesn’t do that for me. Does that mean I already have enough floaty fluffy lovey dovey goodness in me? Or is it just the opposite? At any rate, I know there’s something to it, or the Aztec Kings wouldn’t have consumed over 20 cups of pure cacao a day, claiming mind altering and restorative properties. So, for those of you that go weak in the knees for chocolate, this mousse is for you. I’m not making this for my daughter, because I don’t give her much chocolate yet; and, this mousse has enough chocolate to power you through three afternoon meetings and a double feature. But, I have a potluck coming up, so this is my contribution.

Note: There are many recipes for chocolate mousse ranging from the quick variety of pudding mixed with Cool Whip to the longer version based on French custard. This is the longer version, because it’s the real deal. It doesn’t take that long to prepare, but if you attempt it during “mama juice! mama Yo Gabba Gabba! mama book!” you won’t achieve success. This is a naptime project, because you don’t want to walk away from it once you get started.

Chocolate Mousse

Ingredients

4 large eggs yolks

¼ cup sugar

2 ½ cups heavy whipping cream, divided

6 ounces good quality chocolate, roughly chopped

Melt chocolate in a heatproof bowl set over a pot of simmering water. Chocolate melts best when not rushed; if melted at too high of heat too quickly, it will seize up. Remove from heat and set aside to cool.

Beat egg yolks in a small bowl on high speed until thick and pale in color, about 3 minutes. Gradually add sugar while beating egg yolks until sugar dissolves and the texture is silky.

Heat 1 cup heavy whipping cream in a heatproof bowl set over a pot of simmering water until hot. To temper the egg mixture, gradually mix half of the hot cream into the egg mixture, little by little, until mixture is incorporated. Slowly add the egg/cream mixture to the bowl of remaining hot cream and whisk constantly until thick, about 5-10 minutes. To test: Coat the back of a wooden spoon and run your finger across the back of the spoon. The custard should hold firm and not run across the line (see photo). Remove from heat and allow to cool for 10 minutes.

Stir in chocolate until incorporated. Cover and refrigerate just until chilled, about 2 hours.

Once the chocolate mixture is chilled, beat remaining 1 ½ cups heavy whipping cream to firm peaks. Stir half of the whipped cream into the chocolate mixture until incorporated, then stir in remaining whipped cream.

Spoon mousse into dessert cups or bowls. Optional: garnish with whipped cream, shaved chocolate, and fresh berries. Serve immediately or refrigerate.

Mango Chicken Curry

When you grow up among the snowy, blustery cornfields of Minnesota, comfort food becomes a staple rather than an indulgence on a dark and stormy night. Of course, anyone from that area would immediately think of casserole (or hotdish if you speak Minnesotan), because we all grew up on the noodle based one-pot wonders glued together with Campbell’s Cream of Mushroom soup. Don’t get me wrong, I love me some chicken noodle casserole from time to time. But, once I broke out of my snow globe and experienced the culinary wonders of other worlds (and states, for that matter), comfort food took on new meaning. Now, when I think of comfort food, of course casserole sits front and center (you can’t erase 20 years of Campbell’s soup from your slate), but my go-to food is Indian curry. From the moment I tasted mango chicken curry, I was hooked. I really have to pace myself on how often I make it during the fall and winter, but today marks the kick off of my curry filled autumnal bliss. I make this dish insanely spicy, but I make a separate version for my daughter with almost no curry in it, since the mango chutney has a hint of heat. You can find some very decent naan in the markets; so, unless you have a tandoor or a stone hole in your floor that heats up to uber blazing degrees, I recommend store bought naan as an accompaniment. To jazz it up a bit, drizzle olive oil on the naan and sprinkle with crushed garlic and a dash of kosher salt (or brush with melted garlic butter) prior to heating.

Mango Chicken Curry

Note: As much as I ordinarily prefer chicken breasts, this dish begs for thighs.

Ingredients

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 tablespoon crushed garlic

2 teaspoons minced ginger

1 diced onion

4 tablespoons hot curry powder (reduce amount for a less spicy curry); use mild curry powder for the kids’ version and use ½ - 1 teaspoon

1 pound chicken thighs

2 cups chicken stock

2 tablespoons tomato paste

3 tablespoons mango chutney

Heat olive oil in a large heavy skillet over medium-high heat. Add onions and sauté until translucent, about five minutes. Stir in garlic and ginger and sauté for one  minute. Add curry powder and sauté for one to two minutes to coat the onion mixture.

Add the chicken thighs and sauté until cooked through.

Add chicken stock and tomato paste. Bring to a gentle boil, then simmer for 20 minutes.

Stir in the mango chutney and simmer for five minutes. Best served over rice with warm Naan.

Yields four servings.

Triple Lemon Mini Bundt Cakes

When Martha Stewart returned from her sabbatical (a.k.a: lock-up; a.k.a: we'll show her who is going to build billion dollar empires and get away with insider trading), she was asked by the press what she missed the most. She said "lemons." I would have said the same thing. I've had a lifelong love affair with the lemon. Sure, it has a wide following when sweetened up in a curd, spread over shortbread, and dusted with powdered sugar; but, I'll go the distance with pure unadulterated lemon. Yep, I'll bite down on a wedge of lemon, wince from the intense tartness, and then go back for more. Sour Patch Kids got nothin' on a lemon. When I was a kid, my next door neighbor friend would often dare me to see how many lemon wedges I could eat. I would squirm and make faces so she would up the ante: one Barbie multiplied into one Barbie plus Barbie's weekend tennis outfit plus a pack of Lick 'Um Sticks. I collected some great booty on lemon bets until one day said neighbor friend popped over while I was in the backyard making daisy jewelry and sucking on a lemon wedge. Busted. Needless to say, I relinquished the Barbie and other good stuff. Now, I have to sneak in a bite of fresh lemon, because my hubby the dentist says it wears down tooth enamel. I'm willing to settle on veneers if it comes to that. Sadly, he doesn't share my love of lemons; but, I just may have the house majority, since my daughter loves loves loves my triple lemon mini bundt cakes. They are shrouded in lemon three ways: lemon zest is tossed into the batter, then fresh lemon juice is simmered with sugar to make a sweet tart syrup that is infused into the warm cakes, and finally the glaze is brightened up with more fresh lemon juice. My daughter drizzles (splatters) on the lemon glaze to finish them, and then raises her arms in the air (with the spoon dripping glaze on her head) and yells, "Daaa!" Translation: Ta da!

Triple Lemon Mini Bundt Cakes

Note: I've found this recipe to be so reliable that I often turn to it when I need a delicious treat for potlucks or company. If you don't have a mini bundt pan (well, you should get one, because it makes the cutest cakes ever!), you can use an 8 1/2 x 4 1/4 x 2 1/2-inch loaf pan.

Ingredients
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1 cup plain whole milk yogurt
1 1/3 cups sugar, divided
3 large eggs
3 teaspoons grated lemon zest
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/3 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice

Glaze Ingredients
1 cup confectioners' sugar
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Butter each cavity of the mini bundt pan. If using a loaf pan, lightly butter the pan and line with one strip of parchment paper so that there is a two-inch over hang on two sides, then butter the parchment paper.

In a medium bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, and salt. Set aside.

In a large mixing bowl, blend the yogurt, 1 cup sugar, the eggs, lemon zest, and vanilla. Slowly mix the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients. Then fold the vegetable oil into the batter until it's incorporated.

Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for 25 minutes or until a cake tester placed in the center of the cake comes out clean. Bake 50 minutes if using a loaf pan.

Meanwhile, simmer the 1/3 cup lemon juice and remaining 1/3 cup sugar in a small saucepan until the sugar dissolves and the syrup is clear (cook no longer than five minutes). Set aside.

When the cakes are done, allow them to cool in the pan for 10 minutes. Remove the cakes from the pan and place on a wire cooling rack that is resting on a baking sheet (the bottom pan will catch the drippage). While the cakes are still warm, spoon the lemon syrup over each cake and allow it to soak in. Let cool.

For the glaze, combine confectioners' sugar and lemon juice and drizzle over the cakes.