Archive for May, 2009
from the apron of..., from the hands of cream and sugar... / 1 Comment
I am always in the mood for Thai food. Edmonton has a number of very good Thai places to choose from, and I have two or three in particular that I would never turn down an invite to. But, as I’ve had the pleasure of preparing and tasting some Thai recipes made on a home stove, I thought that I would try to make one of my favourites rather than try to rustle someone up for a dinner out. And it’s much more budget friendly.
Like Sugar, I’m a big fan of green curries. A green curry with chicken is a standard for me when eating out. The other one is basil chicken. The flavour is not as complex or as rich as a curry, but the spice of the chilies and the sweetness of the basil is a winning combination. Add an appetizer and some steamed rice, and Cream is in Thai heaven.
Essentially just a stir fry, there’s not a lot to fret about regarding ingredients or technique when making basil chicken. Googling a recipe results in the Thai names of Gai Pad Krapow or Pad Krapow Gai. Both paths will end in deliciousness I think. As I waded through results, I found that a more authentic recipe calls for holy basil, which is apparently hard to find. The real deal is not made with the expected purple-stemmed Thai basil. A few sites recommended using a mix of mint and Thai basil as a substitution. So, I did just that.
It’s not a dish with many vegetables, but as the restaurant versions I prefer always have bell peppers, I required one of those, and I added green beans for good measure. It also seems to be more authentic to use ground chicken. The reason for this being that more surface area of the chicken gets hit with the few but strong flavours. So, if you’re using breast (like me), make sure to dice it quite small.
The aromas that fill the house when the ingredients hit the hot pan are intoxicating. Add the perfume of a pot of jasmine rice and the sun of a long Alberta day, and Thai heaven is in fact your own home.
Thai Basil Chicken
Makes enough for two.
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
2-5 chilies, finely chopped (I used 3 small Thai red chilies and the heat was a tolerable medium)
2 shallots, finely sliced
3 garlic cloves, minced
About 2 handfuls of green beans, trimmed and chopped to about 1.5 inches in length
1 red pepper, sliced
2 chicken breasts, diced
2.5 tablespoons fish sauce
2 teaspoons sugar
About 1 cup Thai basil leaves
About 0.5 cup mint leaves
1 lime
Cooked jasmine rice
1. Heat oil over high heat in wok or frying pan. When the oil starts to smoke, add the chilies, shallots, and garlic and stir fry for about 30 seconds, until golden.
2. Add the beans and red pepper and fry until tender-crisp, about 4 minutes.
3. Add the chicken and stir fry until cooked, about 5 minutes, depending on size of dice.
4. Add the fish sauce and sugar, stir to coat.
5. Reduce heat to medium and add the herbs. Stir fry until wilted. Remove from heat.
Serve with lime wedges and atop jasmine rice.
Having a name that rhymes with banana meant I had to decide early on if I was going to be its friend or faux.
I chose friend.
As the start of my day, sliced over ice cream, or mashed into muffins, few fruits rival the toothsome give of a banana's starchy-sweet flesh for me.
And for that reason, it makes an excellent ingredient for a pie—especially, ahem, a Cream pie. Nestled between layers of crust and cream, banana slices retain their shape yet can be easily cut with a knife. Cream pies also tend to be a favourite of mine because they require little, if any, baking. I ate many cream pies growing up that were nothing more than instant vanilla pudding poured into a store-bought crust. Slice some bananas and reach for the Reddi-Whip, and you’ve got your classic no-bake banana cream pie. I’ve not let that kind of ease go completely, but with the task of bringing dessert to a friend’s and wanting that dessert to be a banana cream pie, I looked for something slightly more arduous.
Knowing that my hosts were chocolate fans, I narrowed my search to finding a chocolate-banana cream pie. The one I found was outstanding.
Many no-bake pies are made with crumb or pastry crusts that have been quickly baked and then cooled before the cream filling is added. This was truly no-bake in that it was simply melted butter and chocolate added to chocolate crumbs and then cooled until firm. The chocolate became the magic binder that only added to the decadence of the pie. Layers of banana and a vanilla pastry cream are to be expected, but atop a layer of chocolate ganache? Sinful. For nostalgia’s sake, I bought a can of “Real Whipped Cream” to accompany the topping of sliced bananas.
While perhaps sacrilege to some, for those of us in the room that were slightly intoxicated and singing 80s rock tunes with PVR karaoke, the canned cream was more than fine. I provided backing to Livin’ on a Prayer while slicing the pie and then joined the silence during Paradise City as we all became enthralled with my pie’s creamy goodness. So much so we threw caution to the wind, went for seconds (which finished off the pie), and declared Love in an Elevator one of the greatest songs of all time.
While the light of day tends to change your opinion on some things… there is still no question for me that this pie is top notch.
Black-Bottom Banana Cream Pie
The recipe came from Bon Appétit. A vanilla pastry cream recipe is provided, however I made the one I learned in my recent baking course. It’s so good you will want to make extra just to eat out of a bowl with a spoon.
Next time around, I likely will put all the ganache on the bottom instead of marbling it. I made the pie one day ahead of time.
Vanilla Pastry Cream
50 g sugar
20 g unsalted butter
300 g whole milk
60 g whipping cream
30 g cornstarch
1 whole egg
1 g salt
5 g vanilla
Combine butter, cream, milk, and sugar in a saucepan and bring to a boil over medium heat.
In another bowl, whisk cornstarch, egg, and salt so that all the cornstarch dissolves.
Slowly whisk (to temper) the boiling cream mixture into the cornstarch mixture.
Return to the heat, bring to a boil again and cook for 1 minute.
Remove from heat and stir in vanilla.
Pastry cream needs to be cooled before using. To prevent a skin, sprinkle sugar on the top and then tightly cover with plastic wrap.
This makes enough for one pie.
from the apron of..., from the hands of cream and sugar..., from the travels of... / 2 Comments
Is there spaghetti?
This was the question always asked when I was told that there was indeed a kids’ menu at the restaurant we were at.
I distinctly remember one road trip to the Rocky Mountains where I ate spaghetti almost daily. I did the same during another road trip down the Atlantic Coast.
I knew what I was getting and I knew that I liked it.
The tomato sauce, however, always had to come on the side. The leap from spaghetti with butter to spaghetti with tomato sauce could not be completed overnight. Spoonful by spoonful, I learned to love red on my noodles. My preference for tomato-based pasta sauces has stuck ever since.
Giant balls of meat never really grabbed me. Neither did a Bolognese. Primaveras were popular as a teenager, but meh. A little boring.
For a long while, I was a devout all’arrabiata girl, but as I’ve never been a fan of sausage, my constant modifications got old fast.
Here’s what I liked: tomato, garlic, chilies.
Here’s what I saw on a menu once: tomato, chilies, onion, bacon. Close enough.
My first taste of Amatriciana.
Hard to find thereafter, it was something that I greatly loved but rarely ate. The menu I first saw it on removed it with the introduction of new owners.
A good friend and I often speak of when we see it, when we crave it, when we eat it.
I’m embarrassed to say that I’d never made it before this month.
It’s not very hard to find a recipe when you visit Google—especially now that pork fat is all the rage. You find many recipe versions when searching. Some use tomato sauce, some diced or crushed canned tomatoes, some diced fresh. Some have garlic, others don’t. Some have parsley, some don’t. The most authentic ones require guanciale (pork jowls), pecorino cheese, tomatoes, onion, and the pasta shape called bucatini. It’s almost like a long macaroni noodle.
I combined what I read and what I liked and bought what was easy. I don’t want to go on a quest for ingredients when cooking just for me. The Italian Centre had all that I needed. A version on Epicurious uses balsamic vinegar. I thought that might be a little strong, but I needed to deglaze the pan before adding the tomatoes, as mine weren’t very juicy. I grabbed the white balsamic from my cupboard and it did the trick.
What I love about this dish is that it represents the simplicity of Italian pasta recipes. Just a few key ingredients in the right combination. Smoky, salty, sweet, spicy.
I warn you, though. The thickness of the bucatini means twirling can prove difficult. Saucy chins should be expected.
Bucatini all’Amatriciana
Makes two healthy servings.
1.5 tablespoons of olive oil
250 g bucatini
4 slices pancetta, chopped and divided
0.5 onion, thinly sliced
5 roma tomatoes, chopped, seeds removed, and mashed slightly
2 cloves of garlic, chopped
0.25 teaspoons of chili flakes
1 tablespoon of white balsamic vinegar
0.5 cup Italian parsley, chopped
Grated pecorino romano cheese, to taste
Heat 0.5 tablespoons of oil on medium heat in a skillet or sauté pan. Cook half of pancetta until crispy. Transfer to paper towel.
Heat remaining oil on medium-low heat. Cook remaining pancetta and onions until onions are translucent. About 5 minutes. Add garlic and chili flakes and cook one more minute. Deglaze pan with vinegar. Add tomatoes and cook an additional 7–10 minutes until tomatoes soften and the sauce comes together. The pancetta adds saltiness (as will the cheese later), but taste to see if more seasoning is needed.
Meanwhile, cook bucatini in salted water until al dente.
Transfer cooked pasta to sauce and cook shortly to coat pasta. Take off the heat and toss with parsley and reserved pancetta. Finish pasta with grated pecorino.
Mangia!