A slice by request

The creation of the most simple is the most difficult. Take for example piecrust, which if judged by the ingredient list should be no problem. Then why is it so hard to find a good one? One that is flaky but does not crumble, or firm enough that it holds together yet does not tip over the edge to cardboard. With most endeavors the more seemingly simplistic, the fewer places you get to hide any mistakes. This could not be clearer then with a piecrust.

For so long I avoided making this dough leaving it in the hands of my pastry chef friends, and then I would go begging for some. I was finally force to attack this foe and with offered help of a pastry chef I got the support and coaching I need. I have a feel for food, and can execute that delicate balance been solid technique with a feathered touch. But I had in my mind an aversion to this most basic dough. It must have been my second term pastry instructor in culinary school who declared I would never make a pastry chef. And, he was correct. I knew that I had no feel for making marzipan roses or inscribing “Happy Birthday” in a fluid, wispy fashion with a paper cone filled with melted chocolate, and really had no desire to fiddle with that. I did know I have a palate that loved to explore, and a mind that could figure out the science of a problem.

Piecrust is a fast moving technique, well if you are in this century and are using a food processor. Everything in the ready, and once the flour has been spun for a minute the butter bits, and water following promptly and are done before I think. I always add an egg yolk to the dough in order the thwart the amount of shrinkage many of us have suffered – the add fat from the egg prevents the gluten structure from stretching too much and subsequently contracting – I have ended up with a disk as opposed to the pie shell I was trying to achieve.

I can whip out a pie-dough in minutes now, and using a rolling pin was never an issue. I also enjoy baking cakes and other confectionaries, though don’t confuse me with a baker for I will never pipe a greeting across the top of your cake or decorate it with anything then edible flowers I snip for the garden.

Pecan Pie – yields 10-inch pie

Pastry dough

3-cups all-purpose flour

1/8-teaspoon salt

6-ounces unsalted butter – cut into small pieces and chilled

2 egg yolks

2 to 3 tablespoons cold water

To make the dough in the bowl of the food processor, fitted with a plastic blade add the flour and salt. Let the machine run for a minute then through the tube, with the machine running, start dropping in the butter pieces. Then add the egg yolks and cold water. As soon as the dough starts to pull together shut off the food processor. Turn the dough out on to a piece of plastic wrap, and tightly wrap up the dough. Refrigerate for 1 to 2 hours before using.

Filling:

2-ounces unsalted butter

2-tablespoons honey or agave

2-cups dark brown sugar

1-tablespoon water

¼-cup half-n-half

1-tablespoon vanilla extract

3 eggs

2-cups pecans

To make the filling place the butter, agave, brown sugar and water in a 2-cups saucepan, and over a medium heat let the butter and sugar melt. Stir every so often to make sure everything melts evenly. Once the butter and sugar is completely melted, remove from the heat and stir in the half-n-half and vanilla.

Beat the eggs until voluminous and pale yellow in color. Slowly stir in the butter/sugar mixture into the eggs to completely combine.

Pre-heat the oven to 350 degrees.

On a lightly floured surface roll the piecrust out to about ¼-thick, and line a 10-inch pie pan with the dough. With the tines of a fork poke the bottom of the piecrust.

Place in the oven, and cook for 10-minutes. Remove from the oven. Place the pecans in the piecrust and then pour over the egg mixture.

Bake for 30 minutes, and then reduce the oven temperature to 300 degrees. Continue baking until the center of the pie is set, approximately 30 minutes. Remove from the oven, and cool. Once the pie has cooled refrigerate for a few hours before serving.

Into the Mix

Why is it that every time I meet someone new, and they find out that I am a chef I am immediately asked, what kind of food do you make? I have never been comfortable with this inquiry; I am aware the inference is what type of cuisine do I make. I am a product of the society I grew up in, so I can only say, I create American food. Not the foods that may have been laid out during the Eisenhower administration – Jell-O molds have terrified since childhood. Rather, I grew up experiencing a world’s worth of flavors and sensations within the reach of my hometown. The “international aisle” of grocery store always made me wonder, if all the other foods arranged on those shelves were American. After culinary school where I kept my arm raised, and ears open to a myopic, intensive Francophile’s discipline I set out the flesh out my education and satisfy a long held nagging question…just what is American food and how did it evolve, and what was this obsession with all things French?

The latter came a tad more easily for me too understand for the structured, codified system of the French kitchen was capable of being replicated. There was a centralized, static conversation coming out of the aristocratic class that trained workers who subsequently found themselves unemployed with the French revolution moving a rarified presentation to the cafes, bistros and restaurants around the world. The same cannot be said of the more fragmented, working-class based foods of the majority of the world. It has taken over 230 years and multiple waves of immigration and, the establishment of small eateries throughout this land and the onslaught of television food shows to give me an understanding of just what “American” food is. It is not just the hotdog and water reconstituted mac-n-cheese but it is very spice, grain and vegetable eaten across the globe and brought over to add comfort to an otherwise unfamiliar life.

One’s comfort food for me has become a moment of marvel, exploration and embrace – the true definition of authentic. The foundation I received in the art of cooking has not changed; heat a pan first to prevent the item from sticking and water boils at 212-degree Fahrenheit across the earth at sea level goes with me everywhere. Though, I now think of everything as coming from the international aisle, and only I, after 5 generations am American, and that is highly debatable.

Layered Meat Pie – yields 9x3 inch spring form pan

 1-tablespooon smoked paparika

1-tablespoon coriander seed

1/8-teaspoon cinnamon

2-teaspoons annatto seed

4-cloves

1-teaspoon celery seed

1-teaspoon cumin seed

¼-cup golden raisins

1/3-cup chopped sun-dried tomato

1-tablspoon chopped fresh oregano leaves

2-teaspoon chopped fresh thyme leaves

½-cup roughly chopped green olives

1-tablespoon capers

1-large onion – minced

5-cloves of garlic - diced

½-pound ground chicken

½-pound ground pork

1-yellow plantain - peeled and sliced on the angle into ½-inch pieces

1-pound yucca – peeled and center fiber discarded                               

1-pound batata - peeled

½-pound yautia -peeled

Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

In a spice grinder blend the paparika, coriander, cinnamon, annatto, clove, celery and cumin seeds to a fine powder. Place in a large work bowl.

To the spice mixture add the raisins, sun dried tomato, oregano, thyme, olives, capers, onion, garlic, ground chicken and pork. Mix all together to thoroughly combine all the ingredients.

Grate the yucca, battata and yautia together, and season with salt and pepper.

Pre-heat the oven to 350-degrees.

 Line the bottom sides of the spring form pan with the sliced plantains to cover the outer circumference. Press in a third of the grated yucca mixture with the ring of the plantains. Then press in half of the meat mixture, then another third of the yucca mixture. Repeat with the remaining meat mixture and yucca mixture.

Place the spring form pan on a baking tray, cook in the oven for 2 hours. Remove from the oven and allow the meat pie rest for a half hour to an hour before releasing the spring form pan.

I have succumbed

I have become obsessed with cream pie over the last few months (really, I think it is my secret obsession with sweetened condensed milk). Did I read too many articles toward the latter part of last year that forecasted food trends for the upcoming months, and did I take in that subliminal message that pies were going to be all the rage for 2012? It is so not like me to succumb to trends and fads; I usually run in the opposite direction of the masses finding comfort in the space left unoccupied.

I have been part of trend for eating and sourcing foods locally for some 10 plus years – when it was edgy. I have not run from that as a matter of fact I relish the company I keep within this trend. Markets have cropped up everywhere and variety is booming, and I due believe this is a direct result of not just myself and another militant food compatriots looking to secure foods regionally, but every sector of the city seems to have canvas bag in tow.  Though I do wish the trend was more focused on bringing these options to the food deserts that exist throughout our country.

 

Now, a fad I understand clearly – they come and they go. Does a trend have the possibility of disappearing as well?  Shouldn’t it just be a fact that we are all having access to eat healthy, nutritionally vibrant foods always, without the prognosticators hoping it will be?  How many pies need to be consumed this year to make this trend an established fact and what about the adage, “American as apple pie?” can something so iconic be a trend? 

Banana Cream Pie – yields 8-inch pie

¾-cup ground vanilla wafers

½-cup grated, dried coconut

1 egg white

2 ripe bananas

14-ounce can sweetened condensed milk

6 egg yolks

2-teaspoons vanilla extract

Pre-heat to 350 degrees.

Lightly oil an eight-inch pie pan with butter or canola oil.

Mix the grounds wafers, coconut and egg white together, and press evenly into an 8-inch pie pan. Make sure you come about half way up the sides of the pie pan.

Bake the crust for 10-minutes in the oven on the middle rack.

Remove the pie shell, and cool. Lower the oven temperature to 325-degrees.

In the meanwhile, blend the condensed milk, egg yolks, bananas and vanilla extract in a blender or food processor until smooth.

Pour in the sweetened condensed milk mixture into the cool pie shell, and return to the oven.

Bake for about 45 minutes until the center of the pie is just set. Shut off the heat and allow the pie to cool completely in the oven. Then place in the refrigerator for a few hours to cool before serving.

Preheat the oven

I have decided that the month of December is going to be dedicated to baking. Anyone who is familiar with my cooking career I would never be considered a baker. Now, of course, I can pull off what I need to do as long as I don’t have to present an iced layer cake; give me a cookie, pie, trifle or ice cream request, and I can find my groove. The irony is that a white cake with vanilla buttercream is crack for me. If I had to present one that I made to a client I could never pull off a professionally made one. In culinary school applying buttercream evenly, smoothly, seamlessly was not one of the many culinary attributes I exhibited. I was fond of that peaked, mom’s styling application probably because I quickly recognized my inability to improve upon a Duncan Hines styling. So, I made it my business to befriend bakers.

Not all baked goods are for dessert. I love making bread, and refuse to use an electric aide in bringing together the dough – I view the action of kneading as an upper-body workout, and won’t stop until a bead of sweat trickle downs my back. The winter months also have me baking main courses: shepherd’s pies, phyllo encased fish filets and empanadas becomes part of my repertoire. Clearly, my natural pull towards savory foods causes me to season these swathed dishes with a myriad of spices, herbs, meats and vegetables. And, they are prefect one-dish meals or freezer-friendly concoctions that can be whipped up on one of those days when the weather says it is best to stay in doors. For those friends who are prepared to brave wind, precipitation (wet or frozen) and the general ambient temperature will find a homey meal waiting for them slightly lopsided cake included.

Chicken and Sausage Pie – yields 6 to 8 servings

½-cup coconut milk

1-cup coarse cornmeal

1-tablespoon grapeseed oil

1-large onion – sliced into ¼-inch half-moom shape

4-garlic cloves – roughly chopped

4-celery stalks – sliced into ½-inch pieces

½-pound smoked sasage – such as Andouille, chorizo

1-whole chicken breast

3-cups chopped greens – such as kale, beet, mustard, collard

¼-cup chopped fresh oregano

2-tablespoons chopped fresh thyme

¼-teaspoon whole cumin seed

¼-teaspoon whole celery seed

1/8-teaspoon whole caraway seed

Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

In a 2-quart sauce pan bring the coconut milk plus 2-1/2 cups of water to the boil over a high flame.  Once the coconut has come to the boil, add the cornmeal, salt and pepper and using a whisk. Continue whisking the cornmeal to make sure there are not lumps. Then switch to a wooden spoon and lower the flame to medium low, and stir constantly for about 10-minutes. The finished cornmeal mixture should look like wet mashed potatoes. Remove from the flame, and reserve.

Pre-heat the oven to 375-degrees.

In a 10-inch cast iron skillet add the grapeseed oil, onion, garlic and celery and start cooking over a medium low flame. Allow the mixture to cook until the onions are golden brown – about 15 to 20 minutes.

Allow the onions brown slice the sausage into ½-inch pieces, and 

the chicken into 1-inch chunks. Once the onions have cooked turn the heat up to high and mix in the sausage, chicken, cumin, celery seed and caraway. Cook for a few minutes and season with salt and pepper. Mix in the greens, oregano and thyme – you will need to add the greens in probably three batches. Remove from the heat, and spread the reserved cornmeal over the top of the mixture. Mositen the back of a spoon with water to more easily spread the cornmeal across the top.

Place in the oven, and bake for 30 minutes – the top should be golden brown.