Posted by Anita on 11.10.08 12:35 PM
We’re no strangers to homemade cocktail ingredients. We’ve been making limoncello (and other citrus liqueurs) for ages, along with nocino, alkermes, plum brandy, and plenty of other infusions. We’ve simmered up our own grenadine, brewed a batch or two of ginger beer, steeped jar after jar of cocktail cherries, and infused more flavored syrups than any reasonable person’s fridge can hold.
Last summer, we hit upon a new favorite: infused brandy using the excess pears from our friends’ tree. Since it’s an infusion, rather than distilled pear cider, our homemade drink is closer to a pear-brandy liqueur — like Belle de Brillet — than to a potent poire william eau de vie or the grappa-style Clear Creek pear brandy. We’ve mostly sipped it neat or mixed into bubbly, with or without a little simple syrup. But there’s no reason why it wouldn’t be a great mixing ingredient… especially as it doesn’t really improve with age, and in fact deteriorates fairly quickly after the initial infusion.
There aren’t many cocktails that call for pear spirits, but there are plenty that use calvados and applejack to great effect. One such drink, the Jack Rose, dates to the pre-Prohibition era, and was especially popular in the Northeast where applejack was distilled in great quantity. Many theories abound as to the drink’s name origins, but it seems pretty likely that it’s Jack from booze and Rose from the color, as opposed to any gangster or bartender-nickname references.
The usual recipes for the Jack Rose are split fairly well between lemon and lime juice. When using applejack, I think either option is pleasant, though I will admit a small preference for lime when mixing the stronger Laird’s Bonded. But if you’re making the switch to pear brandy, definitely go with lemons — and Meyer lemons, if you can find them — as the subtler pear flavors are lost amidst lime’s extra tartness.
With a slight change to the more-Frenchified pear brandy, we christen our variation the Jacques Rose. It’s made with all home-made or home-grown ingredients, in honor of Mixology Monday “Made From Scratch,” hosted by The Pegu Blog.
Jacques Rose
2-1/2 oz pear brandy (or substitute 1-1/2 oz brandy + 1 oz poire william)
3/4 oz lemon juice
2-3 dashes grenadine
Shake with ice, and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a lemon twist.
drinks, Mixology Monday, other blogs, preserving & infusing, recipes
3 Comments »
Posted by Anita on 08.29.08 11:48 AM
Our weekly shopping haul; One Local Summer, Week 13
—–
Unless you’ve been in a self-imposed media blackout, you may have heard about the party that Alice, Carlo, and friends are throwing here in Our Fair City. And you’d probably guess that a pair of diehard food dorks like us would be camped out in line, waiting for the chance to storm the gates first thing in the morning, wandering through the Victory Garden as we sample a continent’s worth of canapes in the dappled summer sun.
But the fact is, we live a Slow Food Nation life all the time. We spend practically every weekend grazing around the City and around the Bay Area. We live in a community where our oddball food choices have become fairly mainstream. We hang out with a crowd of thoughtful food-worshippers who can carry on a spirited debate about how to balance being a locavore with being a (small-c) chowhound.
We’re truly blessed to make our home here in the epicenter of the local, organic, sustainable food movement. San Francisco’s a city where it’s hardly a challenge at all to eat well and eat ethically… so much so that I get fairly bent out of shape when circumstances or travel force me to do otherwise.
So, no — No “Foodstock” for us. Happily, we have a lot to do this weekend:
– Buying our weekly groceries from the people who grow/make them
We do this every week at the Ferry Plaza Farmers Market, but just to make it interesting — and to bypass the frenzy of out-of-town foodies descending there this weekend — we’re heading across the bay to the Berkeley Farmers Market. We’ll see some of our usual vendors there, but I’m looking forward to exploring new stalls and new ingredients.
– Putting up food to preserve the harvest
Later in the day, we’ll pick up 100 pounds of San Marzano tomatoes at Mariquita Farm’s “guerilla veggie” drop-off. Later in the weekend, we’ll be hauling out the pressure canners and turning them into puree, marinara sauce, and whole canned tomatoes to feed us through the winter
– Supporting restaurants that support local farms
Mariquita’s making their drop at Piccino, so we’ll have a chance to experience their brunch for the first time. The fact that Sher and Wayne — like so many other San Francisco restaurateurs — procure so much of their raw ingredients from the same farmers and artisans that we buy from makes me inexplicably giddy.
– Exploring the food traditions of our neighbors
Saturday night, we’re heading out to a family-run ethnic restaurant with a group of food-obsessed friends. Later in the weekend — if we get our canning done — we’ll visit a Thai food festival put on by the local Buddhist temple at Golden Gate Park. Neither of these experiences are Slow, in the sense of using exclusively sustainable/local/organic ingredients, but supporting ethnic foodways is an essential part of being a citizen of our city and the world.
– Celebrating the bounty of our region
On Monday, we’re having some friends over for a little nosh. We’ll eat some pâté and peaches, sharp cheese and homemade plum chutney. We’ll drink local bubbly, sip homemade pear brandy, maybe even shake up a cocktail using artisanal spirits. Later there’ll be farmers-market pasta tossed with some of the marinara sauce we made earlier, maybe baguette slices spread with pesto. A pie, perhaps… made with a local-flour-and-butter crust (learned from a friend who also happens to be a local treasure) and filled with yet more amazing farmers market finds.
—-
Am I conflicted about opting out of the Slow festivities? Absolutely. I’m already drooling over the Slow on the Go and Taste Pavilion tidbits showing up in friends’ Flickr streams. By all accounts, the Friday events have been beautiful, interesting, and delicious. I hope that they keep it up, because the people who’ve traveled here from all over the world deserve it. And so do the farmers, food-makers, and volunteers who are going all-out to make a fabulous impression.
But on the other hand, I know we’ll make the perfect slow celebration, in all the ways that matter most to us, just as the folks visiting our city and our local producers will have theirs. Either way, I can’t think of a better way to celebrate Labor Day than by honoring the backbreaking effort — both physical and political — that our farmers and artisans spend to put quality food on our tables.
Bay Area, farmers markets, locavore, One Local Summer
18 Comments »
Posted by Anita on 01.11.08 7:48 AM
Invented in France during the years of America’s “noble experiment†with Prohibition, it’s puzzling that the Sidecar has yet to take its proper place in the modern cocktail renaissance. It’s a glorious drink when well made, but it does subject the bartender to a little bit of fuss.
As with many simple drinks, the quality of the ingredients can make or break this recipe; Robert Hess does an excellent job detailing the contributions of the various components. But even when using top-shelf brands, you’ll need to do a fair bit of balancing. Brandies vary widely in strength and sweetness, and even plain-old Eureka lemons change in acidity throughout the growing season.
The traditional recipe of equal parts brandy, triple-sec, and lemon juice is very sweet, especially when served in the customary sugar-rimmed glass. Although I won’t go as far as David Embury — who rationalized that a Sidecar is simply a Daiquiri clone, and advocated a bone-dry ratio of 7:2:1 — I do think that all but the sweetest palates will prefer something closer to two parts brandy to one part each Cointreau and juice.
Like many old-time recipes, the Sidecar has undergone a dizzying list of modifications over the past 70 years. Beyond modernizing the proportions, this recipe stands up to a fair bit of tinkering. Varying the base liquor gets you a Chelsea Sidecar (gin), a Boston Sidecar (rum plus brandy), or an Applecar (Applejack). Swapping lime juice for the lemon, or tweaking Cointreau for another liqueur yields even more alternatives.
For this month’s Mixology Monday — a Brandy theme, hosted by the lovely Marleigh at over at Sloshed! — we took our inspiration from a drink we enjoyed at Cindy’s Backstreet Kitchen. The menu listed Belle de Brillet pear Cognac in place of the brandy (and you know we loves us some of that). Alas, the resulting mixture was jaw-numbingly sweet, but the concept was just too good to ignore; off we went to the home laboratory.
First we tried decreasing the sweet components: Reducing the Belle de Brillet diminished the beautiful pear essence of the drink, and halving the Cointreau flattened everything out. Starting out from the other direction, increasing the lemon juice made things too puckery. Dispensing with the sugared rim did help a bit, but it seems a shame to lose this sparkle.
At last, we turned to the Clear Creek Pear Brandy (or, better still, its sibling eau de vie in the captive-pear bottle). Hooray! We’d found plenty of pear and fruity warmth without the cloying sweetness.
Le Side-car aux Poires
1-1/2 oz pear brandy
3/4 oz Cointreau
3/4 oz lemon juice
Before squeezing the lemon, rub the cut side along just the outside edge of a chilled cocktail glass. (Resist the urge to dip the rim in water or juice — as you see sloppy bartenders do just about everywhere — or you’ll end up with sugar inside the glass and floating in your drink.) Dip the edge into a plate of sugar, rolling to create a sugar rim.
Shake the brandy, Cointreau, and juice with ice. Strain into the prepared cocktail glass.
Drink of the Week, drinks, Mixology Monday, recipes
11 Comments »
Posted by Anita on 09.11.07 9:43 PM
When a friend sends you home from a dinner party with a grocery bag full of her surplus fruit, there’s bound to be a bowl of pears you can’t quite devour before they get too ripe. This fact remains true no matter how many salads, croustades, soups, canapes, or batches of ice cream you make. Pear butter makes good use of these softies, of course, but there’s only so much toast — and so many hostess-gift occasions — in a year.
Preserving fruit in liquor is a time-honored way of extending its shelf life; we’ve made brandied plums many times. They’re incredibly simple to make, and they’re fabulous served warm alongside good vanilla ice cream, or baked in a boozy clafoutis. But here’s the dirty little secret: When all is said and done, the steeping liquid might even be better than the plums themselves.
One of my favorite fruit liqueurs is a pear cognac called Belle de Brillet, a spicy-sweet nip of autumn in a glass. It’s lovely all on its own, and it makes a glorious addition to Champagne (with or without candied-ginger vodka). So deep is my affection for the Belle, and so cher its pricetag, I have to ration my doses; if I sipped to my heart’s content, we’d be in the poorhouse by year’s end.
You see where all this is going, clever reader?
My homemade, locavore pear brandy is one of those “so-simple-there’s-no-recipe” recipes: Cut your ripe pears in half, and remove the core. Chop the unpeeled fruit into large chunks, and put them into a scrupulously clean glass or ceramic container. Top with a decent brandy — Korbel‘s based in Guerneville, if you’re keeping things close to home — and let sit, covered, for 3 or 4 days.
At the end of the steeping period, drain the brandy through a colander into a scrupulously clean glass or ceramic bowl; contrary to your frugal desires, do not press on the pears to release more juice. (If you absolutely cannot resist, press them into a separate container and drink this cloudy stuff first.)
Filter the drained brandy through successive layers of cheesecloth (one layer first, two layers the next time, etc) until the mixture looks reasonably clear. Clean out your steeping jar — scrupulously, of course — and store the filtered liquid in it. Refrigerate, resisting the urge to pick up the jar and peek at it, at least overnight.
After resting the infusion, ladle the liquid through a coffee filter set into a small sieve; I complicate things by placing the filter + sieve contraption on top of a metal funnel, and draining everything directly into a large storage bottle. You may prefer to keep things simple by first straining into a bowl. (You know what kind and how clean, right?) You’ll probably want to change filters at the end of each funnel-full of brandy; the microscopic pieces of pear that you’re removing will clog the filter and slow process considerably if you re-use the filters, especially as you get to the bottom of your jar, where the sediment has collected. The more times you filter, the longer the brandy will last before developing ‘off’ flavors. I always re-filter when making smaller gift-sized bottles.
Once you get the brandy filtered, taste your final product. I found my batch to be quite drinkable right out of the bottle, but Cookie’s pears were so ripe we had to cover them with a towel to keep the fruit flies at bay. If you prefer something sweeter, feel free to add simple syrup, agave syrup, or honey to taste.
I don’t usually store my infusions in the refrigerator — alcohol acts as its own preservative — but pear brandy goes south more quickly than other fruit liqueurs. Unlike limoncello that will last virtually unchanged for a year or more, pear brandy experiences a noticeable loss of flavor by the third day. It will be delicious for weeks and drinkable for months, but it loses its evanescent crispness by the end of the first week. Enjoy it (or, better yet, share it) right away.
drinks, locavore, other blogs, preserving & infusing
12 Comments »
Posted by Cameron on 10.11.06 6:48 PM
Girls, the next time your man (of any gender) gives you the tiniest bit of lip about shopping excursions worth the name — and I mean the kind that require provisions and a Sherpa — you just take Medea Jones’ advice. Saddle him up for a field trip like the one we did last Saturday.
Start at The City Beer Store, a new-ish spot down on Fabulous Folsom: Less Scummy, More Yummy! (and that one’s a Medea Jones original, sealed with a kiss, lovey, so remember that you read it here first). Your faithful correspondent has previously pined on these pages for the bodacious Seattle beer scene and the absolutely fab Bottleworks. Well, color me amber with glee!!! City Beer is too cute for words and it’s just jam-packed with little and big bottles of malty joy, all begging to be taken home. Everything is sold as singles, and the boys there encourage experimentation. Not like that, presh!!! I mean you get a discount if you mix and match your purchases. Love the funky concrete loft decor, (Ed. no, really, it’s a converted live-work loft) and the three taps — soon to be five — pouring draught beer. It’s a store! It’s a bar! It’s a store and a bar!
Pause! Breathe! Wave! Blow kisses! Touch the pearls for sincerity! Wave!
On to the next destination, the gritty, downmarket BevMo on Bayshore for a little atmosphere and some things that a girl just needs…like a bottle of Clear Creek Pear Brandy for Falling Leaves and a shopping cart full of wine! Special to Mr. Windbreaker Man, lashing four one-gallon jugs of Gallo into the milk crate on the back of your powder-blue moped: Those are just the weekly rations, aren’t they? Call me. We must party.
Where next? Why, Blackwell’s Wine & Sprits in The Avenues! Now, there was a time when I’d never venture west of Park Presidio unless it was for a really hot pickup roller derby match. But not any more, chickadees! A frantic cross-country quest for Carpano Antica at the end of September put paid to that. Cue scene from A Nightmare on Booze Street. Yours Truly is on the mobile with who-ever:
“Um, HI! I’m looking for a bottle of Carpano Antica. Do you have it?”
“Yes, I’ll wait.”
“Hi! I’m looking for a bottle of Carpano Antica?”
“Carpano Antica.”
“It’s a kind of vermouth, I think.”
“No, I don’t know what you do with it, honey, but I hope I’ll find out!”
“Well, my friend said if I showed up with a bottle he’d make it worth my while.”
“Yes! Ha ha! An offer you can’t refuse!”
“4-1-5…Wait, why do you need my telephone number?”
“A-N-T-I-C-A.”
“V-E-R-M-O-U…oh, never mind!”
But then I found Blackwell’s, way-y-y-y-y out on Geary, where Gary and Tristan simply saved my life. So, zip zip zip and we’re back to the present, or at least the more recent past, when we visited again. Tristan recommended some wines for when the spirit is willing but the pocketbook is weak: very lovely, very French. I went all wobbly in the knees again on beholding the wall of booze. I’m on a complete bourbon kick these days and honestly, I’m stacking the bottles sideways in the closet, my foil-wrapped cherry bon-bons. I screwed up my courage and limited myself to a bottle of Bulleit (very chic on the custom cocktail circuit — mixes well, but bo-ring alone…. OOPS! Did I say that?), and one of the 15-year-old Pappy Van Winkle, which is simply impossible to find but is my Favorite Bourbon Of All Time, aside from the Sun King, of course.
There! A plan for a happy Saturday! I’m exhausted just writing about it. Mitzi, fetch the English cucumber slices and fill the bath with raita. I must regain my strength.
Love and kisses,
Miss Thing, Medea Jones
The City Beer Store
1168 Folsom Street
San Francisco, CA 94103
(415) 503-1033
BevMo Bayshore
201 Bayshore Boulevard
San Francisco, CA 94124
(415) 648-1233
Blackwell’s Wines & Spirits
5620 Geary Boulevard (between 20th and 21st)
San Francisco, CA 94121
(415)386-9463
beer, drinks, shopping
8 Comments »
Posted by Anita on 11.14.08 1:15 PM
We’ve already written about a new cocktail this week, so I thought I’d answer a question that arrived this morning. I’m guessing there are others in the same boat:
I’m having a turkey day get-together and wanted an appropriate drink. I’d like something I can serve in a martini glass, fancy shmancy cocktail thing. A guest suggested, um, I can barely type this — pumpkin pie martini — and I immediately had to shoot that down.
Help!
– Pumpkin-Averse Party Instigator
Dear PAPI:
What is it with the onslaught of pumpkin drinks this year? I mean, I love me some pumpkin pie, but …gah! Leave the whipped-cream garnish for the dessert table, please.
Thankfully, there are plenty of festive drinks that fit the bill for Thanksgiving that do not involve canned squash. Two of our favorite options from the Drink of the Week archives would be perfect for your holiday bash. They’re both certified crowd-pleasers, full of holiday flavors, and relatively low on the booze — a good idea at parties so casual drinkers don’t end up face down in the cranberry sauce. Best of all, you should be able to find all of the ingredients at your local Beverages & More, or any other well-stocked liquor store.
Have a happy Thanksgiving, and do let us know how it goes!
– Anita & Cameron
—-
Oh, Henry!
– Originally blogged 11/23/07 — click for photos and details
1-1/2 oz bourbon
1-1/2 oz spicy ginger ale (we like Blenheim)
3/4 oz Benedictine
Stir all ingredients in an ice-filled mixing glass, and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a piece of star anise or an orange twist.
Now, I know a lot of casual drinkers might be wary of the bourbon. But be strong: A cocktail is like a dog — you can show no fear! I had three bourbon-haters begging me for the recipe at the last party we served these at. But do try to find Blenheim or another spicy ginger ale; Canada Dry and its ilk is too chemical-y and even the lovely Fever-Tree is too tame.
Make sure you grab Benedictine and not B&B (which is pre-mixed benedictine & brandy). The bottles look nearly identical and they’re often shelved together.
—
Falling Leaves
– Originally blogged 10/6/06 — click for photo and details
1 oz Clear Creek pear eau de vie
– or substitute pear vodka; Clear Creek is tricky to find outside of the West Coast
2 oz Trimbach Riesling wine
1/4 oz honey syrup
– equal parts of honey and water, heated together and then cooled
1/2 oz Orange curacao (such as Cointreau)
a dash of bitters, preferrably Peychaud for the rusty color and spice
Measure all ingredients into cocktail shaker, add ice, and shake well. Strain into a cocktail glass, and garnish with a whole piece of star anise or a sage leaf.
Drink of the Week, drinks, holidays & occasions, recipes
9 Comments »
Posted by Anita on 02.14.08 12:03 AM
Have I mentioned lately how much I love the farmers who keep us fed? Even when I’ve done something utterly short-sighted, they managed to swoop in and save me from my own culinary stupidity.
Last week, Cameron came up from the basement and announced that somehow we’d run out of chicken stock. “That’s impossible,” I replied. “We had gallons…” A quick trip down the stairs showed that he was right. GULP!
Given that our source of pastured, local chickens dried up before Thanksgiving and that I didn’t really do anything to prepare for this eventuality other than making my usual batches when the bone-bag filled up, I guess I am lucky to have made it this far into winter without running dry. But how could we survive months without a local source of one of our most necessary staples?
After three grocery stops, I finally managed to find local, organic chicken backs. Unfortunately, the Rosie chicken parts that Whole Foods carries come from factory organic farms — they’re local, technically, and ‘free range’, technically, but they’re not really my idea of humane, ethical meat. Unless I wanted to go without stock until spring, I was going to have to choose the lesser of various evils. I went home chickenless and annoyed at my lack of planning.
Two days later, whatever deity watches over locavores and other fools swooped in to save my bacon:
From: Cara, Marin Sun Farms
Subj: Range Hens & Roosters
Range hens and range roosters will be offered this weekend at our Farmer’s Markets and Butcher Shop in Point Reyes Station on a first come first serve basis.
I could hardly believe my eyes: pastured chickens, in February? We’ll take two, please. They weren’t cheap — one rooster and one hen tapped out our protein budget for the week (and then some). But they were there, and that’s all that mattered to me and the other folks who swarmed the stand as the market opened.
It turns out that these sturdy birds were no spring chickens [groan!]. Happy by-products of Marin Sun Farms’ egg production, they’re easily double the size of the birds we buy in the spring and summer.
If you think you’re smugly immune to the grim realities of chicken butchery after a summer of dainty heads and tiny feet, you’ve got another thing coming when your supper greets you with an open-eyed stare. And cutting big birds into parts is no trauma-free event, either. Like most other creatures, chickens’ bones and tendons firm up as they mature. The simple shears-and-boning-knife operation required to part out a 3-month-old fryer is a walk in the park compared with the hatchet-job required to take apart a full-grown rooster — and I have the torn-up hands to prove it.
Even if these birds hadn’t been freakishly large, their long, narrow breasts would be a dead giveaway. Barely more than one serving of white meat per bird, these bony chests make an almost-comical sight paired with long, rangy legs. “They look like chickens that tried out for the basketball team,” quipped Cameron.
Mature fowl are best cooked low and slow; one of the MSF farmers was telling folks at the stand that he’d made an exploratory batch of fried chicken, just to see, and… well, no surprise, he didn’t recommend anything but the soup pot or a long, slow stew for any of these tough old birds. (See how many American idioms come from our agricultural roots?)
Of course, any grandma will tell you that modern factory chicken doesn’t taste like it did in the olden days, and much of that has to do with the fact that today’s chickens are slaughtered well before they’re adolescent, much less geriatric. As early as the 1960s, full-fledged stewing chickens were hard enough to come by that even Julia was calling for a measly 2-1/2 to 3-pound fryer for her coq au vin.
Thankfully, we found a lovingly thorough recipe — avec un vrai coq — in our new copy of the River Cottage Meat Book, Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall‘s ode to sustainable eating in all its carnivorous glory. “They might be scrawny and … on the tough side” says our man Hugh, “But with a diet comprising largely natural forage, by god they’d be tasty.”
Not that I’d ever gainsay a meat maven like Mister F-W, but old-man rooster was definitely an acquired taste, even if you’re used to the “more-chickeny” flavors of pastured meat. Don’t get me wrong: The flavor it lent to the sauce was truly unparallelled — an unctuous, meaty taste that felt in all ways more like beef stew than anything poultry based. As for the meat itself, I liked it when I ate it in the small pieces that flecked the sauce, but the larger chunks were a tad too gamey for my girly palate. Cameron, however, gobbled his bowl while making little moaning noises, so chacun à son goût. For the leftovers, I shredded the meat and put it back in the sauce; served over pasta like a ragu, the flavor was perfect.
Oh, and the backs, wings, feet, heads, and other sundry bits made 12 glorious quarts of golden stock. Our freezer is chock-full of delicious homemade goodness once more. And if that’s not true love, baby, I don’t know what is.
Coq au Vin
— adapted from the River Cottage Meat Book
1 stewing chicken, ideally a farmyard rooster*
1/4 cup butter
1T olive oil
8 ounces pancetta or bacon, cut into large chunks
8 ounces onions, cut into quarters
1/3 cup all-purpose flour, seasoned with salt and pepper
4 oz brandy
2 cups red wine
2 cups chicken stock
bouquet garni of parsley stalks, bay leaf, and thyme
4 celery stalks, cut into 1-1/2-inch lengths
4 garlic cloves, smashed
2 cups canned chopped tomatoes
—
6 to 8 carrots, cut into 1-1/2-inch pieces
1/2 pound white button mushrooms, halved or quartered depending on size
4 to 8 ounces small onions (such as cippolini or pearl), peeled and trimmed
Preheat the oven to 250°F. Cut the chicken into 4 serving pieces, reserving the neck, back, and wingtips (and feet and head, if available) for stock. Heat the butter and oil in a large ovenproof casserole. Fry the bacon pieces in the butter/oil until browned, and remove to a plate with a slotted spoon. Lightly brown the onions in the same pan, and likewise remove them to the plate.
In a paper bag, shake the chicken pieces with the seasoned flour until coated, tapping them against the side of the bag to remove any excess. Brown the dredged chicken in the bacon-butter-oil, working in batches if necessary so as not to crowd the pan, and turning to brown all sides properly. If you’ve worked in batches, return all the chicken parts to the casserole. Pour the brandy over the chicken and (very, very carefully) flame it with a long-handled match. When the flames die down, remove the chicken to the plate with the onions and bacon.
Add the red wine to the casserole, scraping the bottom and sides of the pan to remove any stuck-on bits. Add the stock to the pan and heat to a simmer. Then return the bacon, onions, and chicken to the pan along with the herbs, celery, garlic, and tomatoes. Bring to a gentle simmer. Cover and cook in the oven for 2 to 2-1/2 hours (more like 1-1/2 hours for a younger chicken) until the meat is completely tender.
When you’re within a half-hour of serving time, saute the mushrooms in a bit of olive oil. Please resist the temptation to salt them until they are browned and delicious — you will get a much firmer, tastier mushroom. Meanwhile, in a small frying pan, gently cook the carrots and onions in a shallow layer of water, turning them occasionally and removing them from the pan when they’re just cooked through.
When the chicken is ready, check the consistency of the sauce. If you have a very tight-fitting casserole lid, and/or a wimpy chicken, you may need to reduce the liquid by as much as half of its volume. (Leave the chicken and vegetables in the covered casserole, and reduce the sauce in a separate pan.) Once your pan sauce is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon, put everything together — chicken, vegetables, mushrooms, and sauce — and bring back just to a gentle simmer.
Adjust seasonings to taste, and serve with your favorite mashed potatoes or herbed new potatoes.
* If no roosters are available, HF-W recommends substituting the legs, wings, neck, and giblets of a good free-range turkey, leaving the breast to be roasted another day.
Dark Days challenge, locavore, recipes, shopping
26 Comments »
Posted by Anita on 01.03.08 8:17 PM
For us and for many of our friends, 2007 was a year of extremes and contradictions in our house and in our lives. I’ll spare you the maudlin, navel-gazing adjectives (oh, wait… shoot) and jump right into the highlight reel.
When January was just hours old, we rang in the new year with a streamlined version of our annual cassoulet. The next day, we invited you to tour our kitchens… yep, plural. The dysfunctional old one, the temporary kludge in the basement, and the yet-to-come remodeled dream. Later in the month, Cameron’s birthday was the impetus for the year’s most popular post: Boston Cream Pie cupcakes, which won the cupcake roundup for which they were created! Two other recipes created in the basement ‘camp kitchen’ — Fennel-Pear-Bleu salad and Golden Vegetable Bisque — turned into recurring winter favorites.
February was a slow month on the blog; we had some exciting progress on the kitchen remodel, then took a much needed hiatus to spend time with family after my dad passed away. Mom and I whipped up a batch of her justifiably famous banana bread, and Cameron cheered us up with a hopeful post about the promise of summer fruit from spring’s blossoms.
A March business trip turned up some pretty dismal dining experiences in the Big Apple, but the week was redeemed by fabulous cocktails at Pegu Club, among other worth establishments. Back on the home front: Can it have been nine whole months since we discovered our beloved Gialina? Our early crush has blossomed into a full-blown love affair with this solid, cozy Glen Park pizza bistro. By the end of the month, the kitchen wasn’t quite finished, but we’d moved back upstairs and started cooking. Our first meal: heritage-breed chicken, pasta with pan gravy, and broccolini.
Not long after that, we hosted our first blog event: April’s edition of Mixology Monday featured all manner of Champagne cocktails… more than 16 in all. At Eastertime, Mom came to visit, and DPaul and Sean joined us for a traditional ham supper beginning with a stunning green-pea soup. Sam invited us all to show the world that English food is no joke, and Cameron responded with St. John’s roasted marrow bones and parsley salad from Nose to Tail. The end of April brought our first attempt at locavore eating, courtesy of the Penny-Wise Eat Local Challenge. Could we eat exclusively local food for a whole week on just $140? (Answer: Hell yes.)
With May’s warmer weather, we started breaking out the tall, cool drinks. A tonic tasting was first on the list. (Stay tuned for an update with two new contenders). Speaking of drinks, we paid a visit to Seattle and made our first trip to Vessel, home of the inimitable Mr. Jamie Boudreau. Back home at the end of the month, I told you all about the pleasures of learning to cook Thai with Kasma.
Come June, Cameron penned a fairy-tale ode to his favorite new/old restaurant, Two. We marked the 40th anniversary of Dorothy Parker’s demise with a round of classic Martinis. With the finishing touches in place, the kitchen remodel was finally ready for her closeup, Mr. DeMille. We headed up to Napa, new camera in tow, to pick walnuts for our annual batch of Nocino at Mr. Hoffman’s orchard. Rounding out the month, Cameron began his full-circle tour of the edible landscape in our backyard.
July in The City meant that summer was in full swing! Time to grind some beef for the season’s first backyard burgers. Sean taught us how to make perfect Mint Juleps, and we pitted pounds and pounds of fruit for homemade Maraschino cherries. We hosted four carnivorous friends for an afternoon of sausage-making mayhem, then wrapped up the month using our new ‘corn zipper’ to make a gorgeous summer souffle — a plate-licker of a dish if ever there was one.
In August, a young Cameron’s fancy turned to home-cured gravlax. We honored Mrs. Child with a supper of ham in piperade and souffle potatoes. Oh no we di-int make Piña Coladas! (Oh yes we did, and they rocked.) But sometimes you have a flop or two in the kitchen; we had a whole week of them, dammit. Thankfully, we were able to get some decent food into our bellies when we headed north to Cookie’s house to share a retro-style potluck with other Bay Area bloggers.
As the rest of the Bay Area blogoverse headed to Bi-Rite Creamery to celebrate September’s Indian summer, we snuck over to the Mission District’s other local treasure of an ice-cream shop, Mitchell’s. As always, there was plenty to drink at our house: An ode to our local Hetch-Hetchy water, a batch of homemade pear-infused brandy, and a cocktail in honor of Cameron’s favorite musical.
Some folks questioned our sanity, but yes, we really did can 100 pounds of Mariquita Farm tomatoes last October. Spending a couple of weeks at Mom’s meant lots of comfort food: a revamped Creole Rice Casserole, and our entry into National Meatloaf Day. Later in the month, we went public with our locavore status, plunging headlong into the Dark Days Challenge. A search for an all-local eats and drinks led us to an eerie tale of murder most fowl and my new favorite cocktail: Gin, honey, and lemon is indeed the Bee’s Knees.
November was obviously booze month: I won the inaugural edition of Raiders of the Lost Cocktail, and got to choose the next theme ingredient: Benedictine. We learned the truth about Mai Tais at Tiki-Ti, took our place behind the bar chez Hedonia, and won a “Does My Blog Look Good in This?†mention for… wait for it… a cocktail photo.
Which brings us barreling on home to December… what a month! After we shared our favorite way to gobble up turkey leftovers (that’d be Enchiladas suizas), we bellied up to the bar for a sweet vermouth tasting, and spent seven straight nights eating locally sourced suppers. While preoccupied with Menu for Hope, were stunned to be nominated for Best Blog Covering Drinks — we never expected to win! (Thank you all, again. Wow.)
So yeah… highest highs, lowest lows, and all the what-have-you in between. I wouldn’t repeat this year for love or money, but I can’t say it wasn’t without its memorable occasions. I know it seems trite to say we couldn’t have done it without you, but it’s true — we’re truly blessed to have so many passionate subscribers, thoughtful commenters, and fabulous foodie friends.
I hope 2008 brings you everything you want, both in and out of the kitchen.
other stuff
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Posted by Anita on 08.08.07 4:25 PM
It’s good to have friends among the landed gentry. In the warm suburbs beyond the fog-wrapped City limits, we’re on friendly terms with plenty of folks who find themselves rolling in a bumper harvest of astonishing variety, looking for creative ways to eat everything before it goes off. Meanwhile, we slickers sit on our decks and wonder if the tomatoes are ever going to ripen, if the basil will survive another week, if the mint might yield enough leaves to make a couple of cocktails before the summer ends.
One of my favorite new friends calls herself a “tomato-ranchin’ bum.” Really, she’s more like a pear-wrangler these days, burdened under so much fruit that she’s resorted to using her harvest as dog toys and paperweights. The poor dear. Of course, we’re green and yellow with envy: Cookie gets more fruit off her newly inherited pear tree in one day than we coaxed from our plum during in its entire (and entirely too short) season.
Knowing that we’re suckers for home-grown fruit, Cookie loaded us up with a jar of eye-rollingly delicious homemade pear butter and an entire grocery bag full of her surplus pears. Not that I am complaining, mind you… not in the least. When we got home, we separated the as-yet-unripe specimens into their own bowl, to help preserve our bounty as long as possible. The ripest of the already-yellow bunch got scrubbed, split, cored, and cubed, then plunked into brandy. By the end of the second night, I could tell we’ll have a winning tipple on our hands in short order. (It’s not going to put Belle de Brillet out of business, but it definitely qualifies as Majestique de Marin already.)
Meanwhile, we’re stuffing ourselves with a warm-weather riff on the salad we ate all last winter: Slivered pears — ripe but still crisp — tossed with spicy arugula (also from CookieCrumb Acres), some flavorful olive oil, and a touch of mild vinegar. Crumble a little Point Reyes Blue on top, ’cause we love it even if the cool kids don’t. Crack a little pepper over the top, and there you have it: A perfect summer salad for those nights when you just can’t bear another caprese.
Anyone else out there with surplus gourmet edibles? Call me — let’s talk.
cooking, other blogs
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Posted by Anita on 04.17.07 7:07 AM
We had no idea when we planned our MxMo theme, but this month marks the first anniversary of Mixology Monday’s inception. So let’s raise a glass of (deliciously doctored) bubbly to Paul, and toast the continued success of everyone’s favorite spirited event.
Les Fruits Rouges
I got a little worried when the first four submissions included one or another small, reddish fruit — what a strange coincidence! (As you’ll see, the field diversified eventually.)
Out east in NYC’s Forest Hill, Sarah at Avenue Food whipped up a cocktail of her own — featuring Morello cherry juice, rye, orange bitters, and champagne — and dubbed it the Cherry Whiskey Fizz. Whiskey and cherries and bitters… hmm, sounds like an upside-down Manhattan (from Queens).
Speaking of upside down: It’s autumn Down Undah in Sydney, and Anna from Morsels & Musings retells the Greek myth of Erebos & Nyx. In the cocktail version of the tale, the sparkling light of wedding Champagne pairs off with dark, dusky blackberries and creme de mures — and sparks fly (in the form of cinnamon schnapps and Frangelico).
From the heartland, Pintoo of Cleveland’s own Lazy Weekend whips up strawberries and apricots in the blender, and combines them in a stem with pink Champagne: Voila! Mesdames et messieurs, vous présenton: La Rouge.
Rounding out the red fruits, blackcurrants make an appearance from (aptly enough) Scandanavia: Thinking Bartender George, currently residing in Stavanger, Norway brings us Russian Spring Punch — vodka, lemon juice, creme de cassis, lightened with bubbles and topped with a blackberry — plus plenty of tempting variations.
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The Bourbon Kings
Our favorite new cocktail blogger, Dr. Bamboo brings us the Bourbon Lancer — those of you who find the Prince of Wales too sweet may prefer this simpler blend of bourbon, bitters, sugar and Champagne that shifts shape depending on your chosen mash. And who doesn’t love that mustachioed jug astride his valiant steed?
Over at My Bar, Your Bar, Matt gives us a drink named after the most famous hotel in his hometown of Louisville, KY. The Seelbach employs two types of bitters — and plenty of ’em! — in a tag-team with bourbon and Cointreau, playing a little rough with the sparkling wine. Over on eG, Lancaster Mike says he never enjoyed champagne cocktails until he tasted this one.
Also on eGullet, Ktepi is thinking ahead to summertime with the Roasted Lemonade Champagne Cocktail — a very gentlemanly (or perhaps even ladylike) mixture of bourbon, bubbly, and both fresh and cooked lemons. Oooh, darlin’: I can’t wait for a hot day on the patio to try this one out.
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Brandy (and her belle-soeur, Cognac)
eGullet sprits-and-cocktails forum host (and our Bernal Heights neighbor) Erik gets all fancy on us with the aptly named Rosey Fizz, a highball made with apple brandy, blood-orange juice, egg white, rose Champagne, rosewater, and homemade rose-hip granita. Having tasted Eric’s cocktail prowess first-hand, we’re sure this labor-intensive cocktail is worth the effort.
Up north in London ON, Darcy at The Art of Drink offers up the Laissez’ Affair, a study in elegant simplicity. Despite the brevity of the ingredient list — Champagne plus a titch of vanilla cognac (not, we are at pains to reinforce, “some cheap vanilla vodka or vanilla liqueur”) — this tipple proves itself anything but plain.
Ah, here’s the guest of honor, making a fashionably late appearance! Paul from The Cocktail Chronicles offers fair warning about bubbly drinks’ sucker punch, then explores his library for a less-dangerous variant. He brings home the Crimean Cup, which blends brandy and Champagne with maraschino, rum, orgeat, lemon juice, and soda water in a goblet, over ice. It must be springtime in Seattle!
Another eG county heard from: Andy (ThirtyOneKnots) chimes in with a recipe from Dr. Cocktail (aka Ted Haigh), known as the Soyer au Champagne. This silky “Champagne float” garnishes a mixture of equal parts brandy, Maraschino liqueur, curacao, and pineapple juice with — wait for it — a tablespoon of vanilla ice cream. How very, very naughty!
Also in this category: Prince of Wales
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Secret Herbs and Spices
Wherin our faithful hero encounters all manner of roots and herbals….
The lone entrant featuring a home-brewed root infusion mixed with sparkling wine, Burdock Bubbly is Intoxicated Zodiac‘s Taurus-inspired cocktail. Gwen tells us that burdock has “a woodsy, earthy flavor” and that “in Britain the burdock/dandelion cordial is a best seller!” It’s also known as a blood purifier — a wise idea if you’re drink testing.
Over on eGullet, BostonApothecary pays tribute to Duke with a little number called Creole Love Call, jazzing up “a very sincere Champagne” with creole shrub, pimento dram and Peychaud’s bitters.
Also in this category: The lovely and talented Miss Chanteuse and the Rosemary Five.
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Classics and their Kin
When I proposed this topic, I thought we’d see a lot of takes on The Big Four: Mimosa, Kir Royal, French 75, and the original Champagne Cocktail — drinks that come to mind when mixing sparkling wines with other ingredients. But, in reality, the number of original creations and uncommon concoctions far outweighed the biggies.
Susan at The Well-Seasoned Cook ponders the appearance of the original Champagne Cocktail in the cinema classic Casablanca, then tweaks it ever-so-gently with a shot of Campari — a bitter+sweet drink for a bittersweet love story.
Over at A Dash of Bitters, Michael combines gin, cardamom syrup, and plum puree into a cordial-like base for the Plum Royale, a drink that nods at the French 75 and adds a Kir-like blush. (The delicious-sounding cardamom syrup makes this one a candidate for the Herbs & Spices category, too. You see how hard this hosting gig can be??)
Katie Loeb (she of the eGullet Limoncello and Spicy Sangria that have earned their place in the MWD permanent collection) tarts up the classic brunch beverage. Adding red grapefruit-flavored vodka and lime juice to the usual OJ and fizz, she clevery dubs her remix the M-mosa.
Mercifully sparing us from a complete classic shut-out, the ladies of Liquor and Libations in Vancouver BC instruct us in the history — and proper spirits — of a French 75. I love the idea that it’s “like an extra special, extra tasty G&T, with champagne replacing the tonic”! (And a special shout-out to these first-time MxMo participants.)
Also in this category: The Ramblin’ Rose and the Poire Royale.
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What a lovely turnout! Thank you all for making this edition of MxMo such fun to host.
drinks, Mixology Monday, other blogs, wine & bubbly
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