Chicken-in-the-pot

Last night when I couldn't sleep I started going through pictures of myself on Facebook, which is narcissistic, but also, I guess it's in the perpetual attempt to try and figure out where I actually am, versus where I actually was, and actually how is it that anyone gets from Point A and arrives at Point NOW? 

I don't know. 

I've been thinking about the past year a lot, because years always seem to sort of roll themselves over in the summertime for me, and also I've been thinking about the future. 

I think I'm supposed to be thinking about my "career" and "the job market" and other imposing, adult, grey-sounding words that make me want to bury my head in the sand. 

Instead though, I just daydream about being home with my little brothers and making chicken-in-the-pot. 

I want to make this chicken every day for a week, because it smells like the actual smell of heaven, and I want to make it with bright sweet potatoes and fat sticks of celery and thin, translucent slices of yellow bell peppers and the rinds of pickled lemons. 

I want to make this more than almost anything else right now, but at the moment, I don't have a kitchen. 

I don't know what I'm supposed to do with all the past selves, that linger on various social media platforms, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do with the future cubicle that real adulthood sometimes appears to be. 

I'm trying to trust that even when I can't fall asleep, everything is still okay. 

I think this is what they call "faith." 

Besides, the future isn't here yet, and the past went. 

So I'm craving chicken-in-the-pot. And for the time being, I can't have it. 

It's okay. 

So I guess I'm here, at Point NOW. 

And really, it ain't so bad. 

Chicken-in-the-Pot Makes 4 servings (but you can multiply the recipe easily)
from cookbook goddess Dorie Greenspan 

Approximately 2/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil
4 heads of garlic, broken into cloves, but not peeled
16 shallots, peeled and trimmed, or 4 onions, peeled, trimmed and quartered, or 4 leeks, white part only, halved lengthwise
8 carrots, peeled, trimmed and quartered
4 celery stalks, trimmed and quartered
Salt and freshly ground pepper
4 sprigs fresh thyme
4 sprigs flat-leaf parsley
3 sprigs fresh rosemary
Grated zest of 1 lemon
16 prunes, optional (apricots or dried apples are also good in this dish)
1 chicken, whole or cut-up
1/2 small (2 lbs or less) cabbage, green or red, cut into 4 wedges (try Savoy cabbage)
1 cup chicken broth
1/2 cup white wine, or another 1/2 cup chicken broth
About 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, for the seal
About 3/4 cup hot water, for the seal

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees F.

Set a large skillet over high heat and add about 2 tablespoons of the olive oil. Toss in the garlic cloves and all the vegetables, EXCEPT the cabbage - you might have to do this in two batches, you don't want to crowd the skillet - season generously with salt and pepper and cook, stirring, until the vegetables are lightly browned on all sides. Spoon the vegetables into a large Dutch oven with a tight-fitting lid - you'll need a pot that holds at least 5 quarts. Stir in the herbs, lemon zest and prunes, if you're using them.

Return the skillet to the heat and add another tablespoon or so of oil. Season the chicken with salt and pepper and brown the chicken on all sides. Put the chicken in the casserole, nestling it among the vegetables. Fit the cabbage wedges around the chicken.

Stir together the chicken broth, wine and 1/2 cup olive oil and pour the mixture over the chicken and vegetables.

Now you have a choice: you can cover the pot with a sheet of aluminum foil and the lid, or you can make a paste to seal the lid. To make the paste, stir the flour and water together, mixing until you have a soft, workable dough. Working on a floured surface, shape the dough into a long sausage, then press the sausage onto the rim of the casserole. Press the lid into the dough to seal the pot.

Slide the pot into the oven and bake for 70 minutes. If you need to keep it in the oven a little longer because you're not ready for it, don't worry - turn the heat down to 325 degrees F and you'll be good for another 30 minutes or so.

The easiest way to break the seal, is to wiggle the point of a screwdriver between the dough and the pot - being careful not to stand in the line of the escaping (and wildly aromatic) steam. If the chicken was whole, quarter it and return it to the pot, so that you can serve directly from the pot, or arrange the chicken and vegetables on a serving platter.

Tarte Noire (chocolate tart)

When I was traveling, people were always asking me where I was from, and whenever I said "I'm from Texas," there was always some spark of recognition and excitement. 

Saying you are from Texas is not like saying you are from North Dakota. 

Or Wisconsin. 

It's just not. 

It was the best when someone who happened to be French asked, because their eyes would light up and they'd say something like, "OH! TEXAZZZ!" Before making finger guns and asking me about horses and cowboys and Chuck Norris. 

So while I was so far away from home, I fell in love with the with the pie-making, porch-sitting, beer-drinking, no bullshit, music-loving, Tex-Mex-eating, lonestar, cowgirl, wildflower piece of myself. 

A piece of me I didn't even know I had. 

I fell in love with the vastness and vulgarity of Texas from a thousand miles away. 

The poet Charles Bukowski wrote: 

“Texas women are always

healthy, and besides that she’s

cleaned my refrigerator, my sink,

the bathroom, and she cooks and

feeds me healthy foods

and washes the dishes

too.”

And I know and love this now as well. 

I am home now. 

I've been lying in the hammock some, drinking pots of coffee, walking the dog. 

And then, on Tuesday, suddenly, I was ready to be in the kitchen again. 

The first time I actually felt like being in the kitchen in over a year. 

So I baked a chocolate tart. Which was not Texan at all, but French--because the world is topsy turvy like that sometimes, and it is possible to crave Tex-Mex when in France and French food when back in Texas. 

And while I pressed the tart dough into the pan, I thought about Paris. 

I thought about Paris, and how the only real way to understand a city, is to walk through it. 

But mostly I thought about all the people, who made the past few months a sort of miracle. 

Roberto told me, that if you want to cook, you have to cook with "the love." 

And that it's cooking with "the love" that gives food the real flavor. 

So I thought about Paris. And I thought about Texas. 

But mostly, I thought about you.

This tart is one of the best I've ever, ever made. 

xoxo

m 

Tarte Noire (chocolate tart)

from Dorie Greenspan's From My Home to Yours 

Another thing, is that this tart is stupidly simple, and very, very sexy. Even if you can barely bake, this tart is unbelievably doable, if a bit time consuming. Additionally, for the chocolate ganache, it is imperative that you use the highest quality baking chocolate. 

For the Filling

8 ounces bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped

1 cup plus 2 tablespoons heavy cream

1/2 stick (4 tablespoons) unsalted butter, cut into 4 pieces, at room temperature

1 9-inch tart shell made with Sweet Tart Dough (recipe below)

Put the chopped chocolate in a heatproof bowl and have a whisk or a rubber spatula at hand. 

Bring the cream to a boil, then pour half of it over the chocolate and let it sit for 30 seonds. Working with the whisk or spatula, very gently stir the chocolate and cream together in small circles, starting at the center of teh bowl and working your way out in increasingly larger concentric circles. Pour in the remainder of the cream and blend it into the chocolate, using the same circular motion. When the ganache is smooth and shiny, stir in the butter piece by piece. Don't stir the ganache any more than you must to blend the ingredients-- the less you work it, the darker, smoother and shinier it will be. (The ganache can be used now, refrigerated or even frozen for later.)

Pour the ganache into the crust and, holding the pan with both hands, gently turn the pan from side to side to even the ganache. 

Refrigerate the tart for 30 minutes to set the ganache, then remove the tart from the fridge and keep it at room temperature until serving time. 

Sweet Tart Dough 

NB: Don't roll the tart dough out, simply press it into the pan and save yourself much time and angst. 

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1/2 cup confections' sugar

1/4 teaspoon salt 

1 stick plus 1 tablespoon (9 tablespoons) very cold (or frozen) unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

1 large egg yolk

Put the flour, confectioners' sugar and salt in a food processor and pulse a couple of times to combine. Scatter the pieces of butter over the dry ingredients and pulse until the butter is coarsely cut in-- you should have some pieces the size of oatmeal flakes and some the size of peas. Stir the yolk, just to break it up, and add it a little at a time, pulsing after each addition. When the egg is in, process in long pulses-- about 10 seconds each-- until the dough, which will look granular soon after the egg is added, forms clumps and curds. Just before you reach this stage, the sound of the machine working the dough will change-- heads up. Turn the dough out onto a work surface and, very lightly and sparingly, knead the dough just to incorporate any dry ingredients that might have escaped mixing. 

To press the dough into the pan: Butter a 9-inch fluted tart pan with a removable bottom. Press teh dough evenly over the bottom and up the sides of the pan, using all but one little piece of dough, which you should save in the refrigerator to patch any cracks after the crust is baked. Don't be too heavy handed, press the crust in so that the edges of the pieces cling to one another, but not so hard that the crust loses its crumbly texture. Freeze the crust for at least 30 minutes, preferably longer, before baking. 

To fully bake the crust: Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 375 F. 

Butter the shiny side of a piece of aluminum foil and fit the foil, buttered side down, tightly against the crust. (Since you froze the crust, you can bake it without weights.) Put the tart pan on a baking sheet and bake the crust for 25 minutes. Carefully remove the foil. If the crust has puffed press it down gently with the back of a spoon. Bake for another 8 minutes or so, or until it is firm and golden brown. (Watch it though, to make sure it doesn't get too golden brown.) 

Chocolate Chip Cookies & Valentines Day

February, man. 

It's a rough month. 

School is hard. The weather is fickle. Life is tricky. And there's Valentines Day. 

 

Lately, I've been asking the cosmos to just throw me a bone. 
This past week I fell over twice because my backpack was so heavy, which simultaneously made me want to laugh and cry. 
I chose to laugh, but really wished that someone would just give me a hug instead. 

Also, Valentines Day is this week. 

There are about 2 things in the world that I hate. 

I hate papayas.

And I hate Valentines Day, even though it means lots of marked down chocolate on february 15th. 

Which is definitely a win for the stress-eating singles of the world. 

Whatever. 

Tonight, I made these cookies. 

This is the third time I've published this recipe here, and ironically, the last time I posted it was exactly around this time last year. These cookies somehow answer all my comfort food cravings and February sweetness needs. 

I hope you have a lovely week, and I hope your backpacks are a little lighter, and I really hope you make these cookies, because February man, it's a rough month. 

XOXO

m

Perfection In Your Mouth Chocolate Chip Cookies

from Baking: From My Home to Yours by Dorie Greenspan

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon salt

3/4 teaspoon baking soda

2 sticks unsalted butter, at room temperature

1 cup sugar

2/3 cup (packed) light brown sugar

2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract

2 large eggs

12 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped into chips or 2 cups store-bought chips or chunks

1 cup finely chopped pecans or walnuts

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.

Whisk together flour, salt and baking soda.

Working with a stand mixer w/paddle attachment, or with a hand mixer in a large bowl, beat the butter on medium speed for about 1 minute until smooth. Add the sugars and beat until well blended. Beat in vanilla. Add eggs one at a time, beating for 1 minute after each egg goes in. Reduce mixer speed to low and add dry ingredients in 3 portions, mixing only until each addition is incorporated. On low speed mix in chocolate and nuts.

Spoon on tablespoons of dough onto baking sheets, leaving about 2 inches between spoonfuls.

Bake cookies, one sheet at a time, for 10 to 12 minutes. Until light brown on edges and golden in center.

Allow cookies to rest for one minute. Then using spatula transfer to cooling rack.

Perfection In Your Mouth Chocolate Chip Cookies

The thing is, every day I feel so endlessly overstimulated by so many people and professors and reading and walks and phone calls and avoidance of homework that I just... Feel empty. A little obliterated actually. I wake up raring to go and collapse into bed at the end of the day, sleep like the dead and then do everything all over again the next day. Don't get me wrong, these days are great. Truly wonderful. I love love love them. 

Also, right now I feel like I should be in a band called SO MANY FEELINGS. 

Because that's how I've been feeling lately: there are just TOO MANY FEELINGS. 

Anyways, to fill this pit of exhaustion and Too Much Feelingness I've been eating a lot of chocolate chip cookies. It's not stress eating because I am always genuinely hungry. That's another thing. I'm never full. 

Anyways, basically the point of all this is to say, I am completely and utterly besotted with these cookies. My roommate is too. We eat eat eat them. We are at the point where we don't even try to rationalize eating them. We just eat them. I had a cookie with breakfast today. It's all part of balanced meal. I try and start my day right. Because these chocolate chip cookies are perfect. And when I say perfect I mean, PERFECT. They are crisp, they are soft, they are sweet, they are salty, they are chocolatey, they are wholesome, they are home.  

Basically, the point of all THIS is to say that these cookies honestly have curative powers or something. Because I always feel better after eating one. Or three. 

xoxo

Perfection In Your Mouth Chocolate Chip Cookies

from Baking: From My Home to Yours by Dorie Greenspan

P.S. I already wrote about these forever ago, but I've fallen in love with them all over again and I just wanted to remind you how good they are. 

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon salt

3/4 teaspoon baking soda

2 sticks unsalted butter, at room temperature

1 cup sugar

2/3 cup (packed) light brown sugar

2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract

2 large eggs

12 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped into chips or 2 cups store-bought chips or chunks

1 cup finely chopped pecans or walnuts

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.

Whisk together flour, salt and baking soda.

Working with a stand mixer w/paddle attachment, or with a hand mixer in a large bowl, beat the butter on medium speed for about 1 minute until smooth. Add the sugars and beat until well blended. Beat in vanilla. Add eggs one at a time, beating for 1 minute after each egg goes in. Reduce mixer speed to low and add dry ingredients in 3 portions, mixing only until each addition is incorporated. On low speed mix in chocolate and nuts.

Spoon on tablespoons of dough onto baking sheets, leaving about 2 inches between spoonfuls.

Bake cookies, one sheet at a time, for 10 to 12 minutes. Until light brown on edges and golden in center.

Allow cookies to rest for one minute. Then using spatula transfer to cooling rack.

Swedish Visiting Cake

There is so much in world to be a snob about:


Wine
Music
Clothes
Technology
Cars
Bikes
Phones
Cosmetics
Coffee
Tea
Basically Anything You Can Imbibe
Films
Language i.e. usage of certain swear words as well as the words "like," "dude," "y'all" and "guys"
Television
Guitars
Magazines
Blogs
Shoes
Carpets
Travel
Cigars
Furniture
Food


and in my case


cake.


I am a cake snob. The worst kind of snob.


Here is how you know if you are a cake snob:
You are at someone's party, usually a birthday party, usually for someone you don't know to well, because all of your friends are hopefully cake snobs as well. Anyways, the party is kind of boring, and the entire time you look forward to the cake, because cake should always be the high point of any party. Anyways, you wait and wait and wait until finally someone gets it together and lights some candles and stuff and you sing happy birthday and you see the cake and literally your mouth falls open in disappointment. Because it is from the supermarket there are strange technicolor frosting flowers all over it and too much frosting and no class and over-decoration and then the actual cake itself is too sweet and flavorless bland stale stale stale sweetness.


And life feels completely meaningless.


You will never have this problem with this cake.





Ever.
I promise.
I suggest you defriend your non-cake-snob friends on facebook and hope they don't invite you to any more lame ass parties with lame ass cake. Alternatively, you could just offer to make it for your non-cake-snob friend's parties and then they will love you and your cake snob friends will love you. And it will just be lots of love + cake.
Which is an infinitely good thing.


xoxo

Swedish Visiting Cake 

from Baking: From My Home to Yours by Dorie Greenspan

Makes 8 to 10 servings

This is simple and glorious. I added cranberries, for pizzazz and holiday festivity. Also there is no frosting, which is always a plus, and it is dense and moist and sweet and takes no time to make or bake and between the two of us my mother and I managed to eat more than half of it, basically in one sitting. Which is kind of embarrassing and awesome at the same time. Mostly awesome. 

1 cup sugar, plus extra for sprinkling

Grated zest of 1 lemon

2 large eggs

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

1/2 teaspoon pure almond extract

1 cup all-purpose flour

1 stick (8 tablespoons) unsalted butter, melted and cooled

About 1/4 cup sliced almonds (blanched or not)


Cranberries (optional)

Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.  Butter a seasoned 9-inch cast-iron skillet or other heavy ovenproof skillet, a 9-inch cake pan or even a pie pan.

Pour the sugar into a medium bowl.  Add the zest and blend the zest and sugar together with your fingertips until the sugar is moist and aromatic.  Whisk in the eggs one at a time until well blended.  Whisk in the salt and the extracts.  Switch to a rubber spatula and stir in the flour.  Finally, fold in the melted butter.

Scrape the batter into the pan and smooth the top with a rubber spatula.  Scatter the sliced almonds over the top and sprinkle with a little sugar.  If you're using a cake or pie pan, place the pan on a baking sheet.

Bake the cake for 25 to 30 minutes, or until it is golden and a little crisp on the outside; the inside will remain moist.  Remove the pan from the oven and let the cake cool for 5 minutes, then run a thin knife around the sides and bottom of the cake to loosen it.  You can serve the cake warm or cooled, directly from the skillet or turned out onto a serving plate.

Chocolate Gingerbread Cake

Let me tell you something that no one tells you:


College is actually School.


FOR REAL RIGHT?


Everyone talks about "games" and "parties" and "really awesome people" and maybe "study abroad" or "pedigreed professors."


But in talking about college no one actually EVER, I repeat, EVER talked about going to class and homework etc.


It's missing from the "You're a senior in highschool so you better go to college" dialogue.





Not that I'm unhappy or anything, because I think I'm pretty happy, despite the fact that my dorm room does not have a sink.
I am going to complain about this forever.
And it takes me, like, 15 minutes to pee, because I have to walk all the way down the hall to the bathroom, which is like, a half a mile away.
And I have to pee, like, all the time.
Small bladder.
That's me.
Also. The food here, is not stellar. Did you know that Bland is actually a flavor? Like Salty or Sweet or even Umami, if you want to get technical. No. Bland is the flavor that no one talks about. Those little bottles of Tabasco Sauce are my friend.


Anyways, I still live close to home, so I went home one day, and I baked a cake. Baking again was almost as fun as my first college party. But I don't think I want to talk about that here.


xoxo





Chocolate Ginger Cake
from Baking: From My Home to Yours by Dorie Greenspan


NB: Dorie suggests icing, which I was far too lazy to make, and it was wonderful without. If you so desire the instructions for icing are below. But it really was good without. 

• For the cake:
• 2 tablespoons finely chopped peeled fresh ginger
• 1 tablespoon sugar
• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 2 teaspoons ground ginger
• 3/4 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
• 1 stick plus 3 tablespoons (5 1/2 ounces) unsalted butter, at room temperature
• 3/4 cup (packed) light brown sugar
• 3 large eggs
• 1/2 cup molasses (not blackstrap)
• 6 ounces bittersweet chocolate—2 ounces melted and cooled, 4 ounces finely chopped
• 1 cup buttermilk
• 1 tablespoon finely chopped ginger in syrup (available in Asian markets), optional
• 
  
• For the icing:
• 3 ounces bittersweet chocolate, coarsely chopped
• 1 tablespoon strong coffee
• 3 tablespoons (1 1/2 ounces) unsalted butter, at room temperature
• 3 tablespoons confectioners' sugar

Getting Ready:
Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 350°F. Butter a 9-inch square baking pan and put it on a lined baking sheet. (Make sure your pan measures a true 9-x-9-inches; see above.)

To make the cake: 

Put the fresh ginger and sugar in a small bowl, stir and set aside. Whisk the flour, baking soda and spices together.

Working with a stand mixer, preferably fitted with a paddle attachment, or with a hand mixer in a large bowl, beat the butter and brown sugar together at medium speed until they are light and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Add the eggs one at a time, beating for 1 minute after each egg goes in. Don't worry if the mixture looks curdled at this stage. Pour in the molasses and beat until smooth. Reduce the mixer speed to low and add the melted chocolate along with the sugared ginger. Still on low speed, add the dry ingredients in three additions and the buttermilk in two (begin and end with the dry ingredients), mixing the batter only as much as needed to blend the ingredients. Fold in the chopped chocolate and the ginger in syrup, if you're using it. Pour the batter into the pan (remember, if your pan is small, do not fill it to the top). Bake about 40 minutes, or until the cake starts to pull away from the sides of the pan and a knife inserted deep into the center comes out clean. Don't be concerned if the cake has domed and cracked—it will settle down as it cools. Transfer the cake to a rack, cool for 10 minutes, then unmold the cake. Turn right side up and cool to room temperature before icing. (The edges of the cake might be quite brown, but don't fret—you can trim them after you ice the cake.)

To make the icing: 

Fit a bowl over a pan of simmering water, put the chocolate and coffee in the bowl and stir occasionally until the chocolate is melted. Remove the bowl and, using a small whisk, stir in the butter, 1 tablespoon at a time. Sift the confectioners' sugar over the chocolate and stir it in. Transfer the bowl to a counter and let the icing sit for about 10 minutes.Put the gingerbread, still on the rack, on a piece of wax paper or foil (the drip-catcher). Pour the icing onto the center of the cake and use a long metal spatula to spread the icing evenly over the top. Allow the icing to set for 30 minutes (you can hurry it along by chilling the cake briefly). If the edges of the cake are overbaked, now's the time to trim them. Then cut the cake into 9 even pieces.

NB: Gingerbread is a good keeper. You can wrap it and store it at room temperature for about 3 days or freeze it, iced and all, for up to 2 months.