stacey . smoore . the staceyfish . 
Life in a Northern Town: the exploits of an ecstatic Alaskan
Lens: the adventures of a girl and her camera
Bread baking has become a bit of an obsession of mine. As I mentioned in my writeup for The Herbed Bird, I started doing it around Thanksgiving when I got really, really tired of store-bought bread and realized that I could probably do a much better job myself.
Well, I turned out to be right. Since I had never kneaded before and didn't have anyone to show me how to do it, it took me a couple of months to really figure out what the heck I was doing. My first couple of loaves were, well, bricks, but they were much better tasting bricks than the stuff you buy from the grocery store! I probably wasn't doing myself any favors by skipping the refined flour either -- ask just about anyone who bakes bread and they'll tell you that whole wheat bread is much more difficult to make. I didn't care -- I was going to make delicious whole wheat bread and that was final.
I did see many improvements in my bread over time, as my mom came to visit and showed me how to knead, as I read more on the subject, and finally, as I bought the cookbook that taught me just about everything that matters about whole-grain bread baking, Laurel's Kitchen Bread Book. The acquisition of my Kitchen Aid stand mixer might have something to do with it too. Once all that came together, I started making what I would consider very good bread.
About a month ago though, I started making what I would call outstanding bread. I credit this entirely to the low temperatures long-rise method outlined in the book mentioned above. By letting the dough ferment for 24 hours instead of the usual 3, you get incredibly light dough whose flavors have developed marvelously without any of that sour taste that is so often found in bread. Let me assure you that you do not need to stuff two teaspoons of yeast into your dough to get your loaf to rise! I also find it much easier to fit this rising-deflating pattern into my daily life. I can make bread any day of the week with this method because I do not need to block off six hours to attend to dough that must be deflated every hour or so. Another bonus: for reasons that I can't explain, the loaf is more nutritious and keeps longer than its rushed cousin.
So what are you waiting for??? Go make this loaf! I find it's perfect for anything from sandwiches to toast to eating with soup to dipping in olive oil. You (and anyone you bestow this magnificent loaf upon) can thank me later.
Ever since I first tried my hand at Olive Rosemary bread for an Easter feast this year, I've been a big fan. The olive and rosemary complement each other extremely well and have a warm, not-too-olivey flavor.
Yesterday I was craving this bread something fierce. The problem? Well, I was sick and was really not liking the idea of mixing, kneading, fermenting, shaping, proofing, and baking two whole loaves. Incidentally, the six hours it would take to get the bread in my belly wasn't really working either considering I was craving it then. Quick breads came to mind, but I didn't know any savory recipes besides cornbread (and my blueberry buttermilk pancakes had exhausted my supply of cornmeal) and as much as I love a good whole-wheat pumpkin spice loaf, I just wasn't wanting a sweet bread (or a sweetbread, for that matter).
So, of course, I turned to my favorite cooking friend, The Joy of Cooking. I flipped through their quickbreads section, considering zucchini bread (but was foiled by a lack of the namesake ingredient), coffee cakes (but then remembered that I didn't want something sweet), and muffins (ditto), before my eyes rested upon a Mediterranean olive loaf recipe. Ye gods, had I just found a quick version of the very bread I was craving? Indeed I had! I immediately went into the kitchen and ten minutes later my loaf was in the oven.
The bread came out wonderfully moist with a very crumbly texture, and as my venerable printed friend suggested, the bread was excellent with some goat cheese. Move over, chicken noodle soup - that's some good comfort food.
Click here for the recipe for "Olive rosemary quick bread" »
Growing up, while probably no different than most other American households, I was familiar with startlingly few grains. I knew of wheat, oats, rice, and.... that's about it. Since I've struck out of my parents' house own and have had a kitchen -- and some cookbooks! -- to call my own, I've been making a conscious effort to branch out.
This recipe is adapted from one of my favorite cookbooks. It's odd that it's one of my favorites, give that I'm usually somewhat dissatisfied with the way the recipes turn out. Luckily, the recipes are usually a good 70% solution and I find it very easy to take their recipes and solve dissatisfaction with a few simple -- and still healthy -- substitutions. The original recipe for this dish called for (perfectly revolting) mushrooms but still lacked a thing or two in terms of taste and color. So I varied the cooking method a little bit, added in some much needed flavor, and here is the result!
Click here for the recipe for "Quinoa Pilaf With Arugula and Sun-dried Tomatoes" »
I've always been a breakfast person. Not really in the way that many other Americans are, where they like lots of eggs and bacon and other really unhealthy and non-nutritious foods, but more in the way that I like to get something healthy in my tummy that will stick with me until my mid-morning snack. This is sufficiently different, versatile, receptive to substitutions, and, of course, yummy, to meet all of my needs. They do take longer to cook than their gloppy rolled cousin, so I cook a week's worth at a time and reheat as I need it. Nowadays it's impossible to open my fridge without finding a massive batch of these oats, just waiting for their turn to be consumed.
And just look at them! It's easy to see why!
Click here for the recipe for "Indulgent Irish oatmeal with berries" »
Be careful: homemade chicken stock is another one of those "you can never go back" recipes.
I remember a little over a year ago, I made minestrone soup for the first time. It's one of my favorite soups, but I couldn't understand why it was so..... blase. Despite the fact I had used fresh ingredients and used the proper technique, it wasn't worth making again, and I stuck with my usual soup staple, Provencal Vegetable Soup.
About a year later I was having some friends over for an Italian night - caprese salad, various pastas with homemade sauces, and affogatos. Something was missing and (being ignorant of the traditional Italian primi and secondi) I decided to add in minestrone soup.
So I tried again. Talk about night and day! It was like the first batch I had made was anti-minestrone and if the two batches had ever met they would have annihilated each other. The only difference? The fantasmagorically delicious minestrone was made with homemade stock instead of commercial chicken broth.
Every recipe I've used with this stock has sung with flavor. Why? That flavor comes from tons of fresh ingredients and no salt. It's a recipe that I've adapted from more traditional chicken stock recipes to fit the way I cook. I roast a bird one week, save the carcass, skin, and fond and after I roast another bird the next week I combine the two carcasses with any leftover meat and tons of aromatics. This way I'm getting maximum use out of those chickens with minimal waste.
And it is so worth it!
Until I made this dessert at home, I had never had panna cotta in the United States.
I hadn't even heard of this indulgent dish until a couple of months ago, when I met someone in Korea who had actually taught at the Culinary Institute of America. I haven't met many people who are bigger foodies than me, but he definitely qualified. A few of us were looking for a restaurant in Seoul for dinner and we decided to pop into an Italian place, and my chef comrade ordered it for dessert, served with a perfect raspberry sauce on top. "Not too shabby," I thought, but didn't think too much of it again until Cory and I's honeymoon.
After our day trip into Siena, we returned to Florence intent on finding a classic Tuscan dinner. We looked through our guidebooks and found a place or two that looked promising on paper but were totally uninspiring when viewed in person. So we started to wander the streets, looking for those wonderful Italian hole-in-the-walls that you hear about from all your friends who were lucky enough to go to Italy when they were still in college.
All of a sudden we passed by a Il Latini, a restaurant that looked very cozy and the menu was actually entirely in Italian, which I took to be a good sign that this place was authentic. It was about 7:05 and the place didn't open until 7:30, so we decided to wait, queuing up like, well, normal civilized people would. About ten minutes later a man walked up and asked if anyone there spoke English, and almost all of us answered that we did. "This is the third time this week that my wife and I have been here, and trust me, the wait is worth it." Cory and I grinned at each other at this, and the man continued, "I know you all think that you're lined up like rational, courteous people, but trust me, when it gets closer to opening all the locals are going to start massing around the door. Lines will mean nothing!"
Well, you know what they say, when in Rome....
So we gaggle up, and before long the man is proven correct when these people start amassing around us, trying to get in ahead of us even though we've been waiting twenty-five minutes. 'Oh hell no!' I thought to myself. "If anyone tries to get around you, throw 'em an elbow!" was Cory's husbandly advice. And throw an elbow I did!
We managed to get in at the first seating and were seated at a table with another couple. The huge bottle of house wine was already on the table, and the food starting coming almost immediately. We never saw a menu, but everything they brought was superb: insalata caprese, pate on crostini, and tabbouleh made with barley for antipasti, Tuscan tomato and bread soup for me and gnocchi with pesto and sun-dried tomatoes for Cory for primi, roast beef for me and roasted lamb for him for secondi, and then a delicious dessert wine, biscotti, espresso, (something delicious that I can't remember), and, of course, panna cotta with a velvety chocolate sauce for dolci. It was an amazing meal (quoth Cory: "my brain pretty much shut down so that the only thing working was the taste buds") and an unforgettable dining experience in my favorite city.
It was also, of course, a wonderful reminder of a dessert that is fast becoming a favorite.
