May 01, 2008

chocolate-covered matzo

I’m going to make this short and sweet for several reasons. First of all there is little I can say about chocolate-covered matzo, other than it’s super easy to make, it tastes really good, and it gives you a great way to use your leftover matzo, which you probably have grown sick of in the 8 day span when Passover ran your life and diet.

Me, I had a few boxes left over, reminding me of my over-zealousness in preparation for the holiday. Also, chocolate-covered matzo is so easy to make, it’s almost embarrassing to dedicate a whole blog post to it, let alone give you the recipe for how to make it. It’s almost as if I would talk down to you all, it’s that easy. And talking down to you is the last thing I want to do.

But here’s the thing – this simple snack tastes so good, I want to tell the world, you don’t have to eat your matzo plain, or with cream cheese or butter – you can have it with chocolate. (As if I needed another reason to have chocolate.)

And lastly, I want to keep this short because today is my 30th birthday(here come the wrinkles!) So I want to go and revel in the day – I think I deserve it. Maybe I'll make myself a chocolate-covered matzo and stick a candle in it.

June 13, 2007

obsessively, yours

When I get an idea in my head, I might as well drop everything and just get it out of my system, or else. If I am craving mango, suddenly a dozen mango-centric recipes pop in my head. If I'm sugar-deprived, I think of making cookies, and it makes the work day unbearable, because as much as I love what I do, I would much rather hide in the kitchen measuring out flour and softening butter. In fact, I often find myself midday, thinking of what I want to cook and strangely, it motivates me to get all my work done on time, so that I could rush home and make that meal.

Last week, I've found myself watermelon-obsessed, and while, it's not the fruit that is in season in June, I don't care, because I find that when it is in season, either the weather has cooled off considerably, or I've gotten used to the heat. Besides, being on a David Lebovitz kick, armed with a dangerous book that is being held responsible for expanding waistlines and wide grins across the globe, I found a recipe for watermelon sorbet and it was pretty much all I could talk about it until I made it.

And afterwards, it was still pretty much all I could talk about. Only this time I was talking about how delicious it was. Incredibly enough, it tasted so much like fresh watermelon (imagine that!), but it had a bit more sweetness and was colder! I know, it sounds crazy to be amazed that when you make food from scratch, it actually tastes like the food you used to make it. I guess it's sad how we've arrived to this point in our consumption – when we think it a luxury to find something that's a derivative, resembling its underlying ingredient!

In any case, I made a few slight changes with David's recipe. I confess being a bit too lazy and lacking ample time, so I didn't bother with picking out the seeds. I also omitted the chocolate because, while the aesthetic of it pleased and intrigued me, I didn't want to taste chocolate with my watermelon. I guess it was the purist in me, but I wanted the sheer simplicity of the fruit – nothing else. Finally, I didn't do much straining and in the end, am glad to have done so. I liked tasting the little watermelon fibers with each bite – it made me think of the actual fruit that much more.

I loved the taste of it. LOVED it. But of course, in my doubting fashion, wondered if it should be tarter. KS, who generously volunteered to consume the great majority of the batch, said that it was perfect. So perfect, in fact, that I should feel free to make more. Soon.

I suppose I should feel better about myself having made a fat-free frozen treat. With minimal sugar, this was almost like biting into the watermelon itself. I wonder how long I’ll last before I start dipping into the French custards – that’s really the only problem with David’s book – I cannot decide which ice cream to make next, and equipped only with once ice cream maker at home, this might be a difficult conundrum facing me in the next few days. Oh decisions, decisions!

May 23, 2007

my own perfect scoop

I first heard about it on the Ellen show – she was raving about this frozen yogurt from a company called Pinkberry – it was amazing, she said, and best of all, fat free. I had to roll my eyes at the television screen – another celebrity endorsement, another fat-free treat – it’s probably not even yogurt! But Ellen went on and on and on about it, how good it was, and how tangy and fresh the yogurt tasted and oh, what fresh toppings they had; and before you know it, the name had tattooed itself inside my brain. At the time, this was only an LA sensation and I felt well-insulated from yet another overhyped franchise, especially one that reminded me of Tasti D-Lite – a company whose product I loathe almost as much as I loathe high-fructose corn syrup. But that’s for another time.

Then one day, while visiting KS’s father’s apartment his little sister brought up Pinkberry – and how good it was. “Did you try it while in LA,” I inquired. “No,” she said, her eyes glowing, “they have it in Chelsea!” And so one lazy morning, en route to work in a cab (okay, so it wasn’t lazy, just freakishly cold!) I spotted it on 8th Avenue. The cute pink and green letters, the toy-like design, and made a mental note. A few cold, seemingly interminable months later, we finally found ourselves taking a stroll in Chelsea and passed by the location. And I, of course, had to go in! Even KS, normally abstaining from dairy desserts (oh lactose intolerance, how cruel you are!) made an exception and sampled the frozen yogurt treat. The moment the frozen yogurt hit my palate, I became obsessed. It was so good, I could not get spoons fast enough in my mouth, where the yogurt disappeared quickly, leaving me with a stupid happy grin on my face.

It was as if my taste buds had woken up from some sugar-laden nightmare and unanimously agreed - this is what frozen yogurt SHOULD taste like. There was a reason I couldn’t stomach the overly sweet frozen yogurts out there. And right then and there, I decided – an ice cream maker this summer is a must. And then, Heidi had to go and write about how good and easy making frozen yogurt was at home, and referenced David’s book. And I found an ice cream maker on sale for $30 (that’s, like, free!) and while I cannot exactly remember hitting submit on my book order (something about selective amnesia is kicking in), Amazon.com did deliver The Perfect Scoop as well as my next favorite cookbook. And I’ve been flipping though the books nightly salivating over each page.

So last night, after my ingenious salad creation – who knew leftovers could be so delectable – and some planting-in-the-dark (oh, that’s a story in and of itself) – I was all but finished with the kitchen. And so I gave this basic frozen yogurt recipe a whirl. Now, some people follow the recipe first time to a tee, but I, on the other hand, always like to tweak them my own way. Not so this time, aside from decreasing the original amount of sugar by a half, and mixing two parts of strained yogurt with one part regular plain yogurt, I followed this quite meticulously. I even was able to assemble and start the ice cream machine without it freezing the paddle to itself – an accomplishment I was extremely proud of!! Forty long and arduous minutes later, KS and I both had heaping bowls of frozen yogurt on our laps.

And man. Was. It. Good. So good in fact that I licked the bowl! Pinkberry who??

And now I just can't get over how incredibly delicious it was. I've been thinking about having more since yesterday morning and couldn't leave the house without shoving a few spoonfuls in my mouth – breakfast of champions I know - and then at night, on my conference call, I was being so loud with my spoon knocking against the dish, I woke KS up.

I just have this feeling that by the end of summer, David’s book will have been loved well and used backwards and forwards – and the pages might just get stuck together from my sticky fingers, and I might have to get myself another copy! There will be a lot of frozen dessert consumption in this household in the next few months.

Perhaps putting in an elastic waist in all my pants might be a good idea for this summer. That and attaching my name tag on a treadmill at the local gym.

December 26, 2006

melting into bliss

After I graduated college, I set off, with a friend in tow, to backpack through as much of France as five weeks allowed us. I was armed with a few changes of clothes, a Lonely Planet guide, a little cash, a mighty credit card (and it was all worth it!) and an appetite that was determined to fit as many foodstuffs into my stomach as possible. Whereas my friend might have been on a cultural expedition, I was on a gastronomical one. Foie gras, baguettes, unpasteurized cheese, wine, raw seafood and sausisson sec – all these were to be consumed in massive quantities, not to mention other things like pain au chocolat, cassoulet, boudin noir and the famous Marseille soupe de poissons.

It never occurred to me to include chocolate in the mix. I was always a spotty chocolate eater. Whenever I was home, I wouldn’t touch the stuff. Same went for any Hershey’s or Nestlé’s around. I thought Godiva’s are quite nice, but haven’t had enough to develop my palette, and I always seemed to be picking out the dark chocolate ones, leaving the milk and the white chocolates without much attention.

Something, for me, was missing in chocolate. Some necessary hue of flavor. And I didn’t know it at the time, but looking back, it now makes perfect sense.

I think it was somewhere in Nantes or La Rochelle that my friend and I wandered around a farmer’s market. In France, these things are so prevalent that were I to reside there, I’d never shop for produce in a store. Along the fruit and vegetable vendors, we spied a little chocolate stand. Among the bon bons and the patisserie were sheets of dark chocolate with bright red swirls – it was chocolate with cayenne pepper, something I’ve never tasted nor heard of.

Naturally, it was the thing we bought and tried. And then my chocolate world flipped on itself and was never to be the same. I instantly realized what was missing from chocolate for me, was a flavor that was going to intensify the complexity of chocolate itself. In this case, the cayenne pepper gave the bitterness more depth and, in a strange way, added a little sweetness all the while warming up my throat. It was so good, in fact, that I ate an entire sheet we bought, licking my fingers afterwards. In my broken French, I chatted with the vendor hailing the cayenne as the greatest thing to happen to chocolate. He agreed. We parted with him gifting me and my friend more of the spice-filled goodness.

After I moved to New York and got my bearings, I quickly figured out the artisanal chocolatiers, making sure to sample each one’s work, and without fail, try the spicy versions of their creations. Among the mix were Katrina Markoff’s Vosges chocolates – a store so pretty it made me want to have everything in aubergine. And I’ve stayed a loyal fan through the years, sampling all her whimsical creations. So when I spied her truffle recipe in Bon Appetit this month, I was on a mission – to make cayenne spiced truffles.

Ah, but I’m waxing poetic and lengthy with this post. It’s just that this is chocolate, people! And good quality too. Yes, I know, the cost might sound prohibitive, but the high end chocolate makes all the difference in making the proper ganache. Also, what if you hate cayenne? Can’t you then, try something else? Well, absolutely – create new flavors, see what suits you best. I think my next flavors will be lime-basil, earl grey tea, and vanilla-black sesame. Just be sure to use good quality chocolate, like Scharffen Berger, or Vosges. You’ll thank me later.

The truffles are not difficult to make, but it’s a very time consuming process. Make the ganache, then chill it. Roll the truffles, then chill those too. Then you have an option of dipping in melted chocolate (chilling that too) before rolling in anything from unsweetened cocoa powder (my pick) or chopped nuts, seeds, and so on. And then putting them back in the fridge. Finding those little cups for the truffles was not an easy feat. Luckily, my boyfriend spied some in his pantry and kindly shared.

Some recipes call for piping the ganache through, some ask for latex gloves for rolling. I didn’t have either at my reach, so I did everything by hand, periodically dipping my hands into a bowl of iced water (it’s not pleasant, I warn you) to keep them cold and prevent from making the chocolate. Lastly, I find it’s easier to knead the ganache with one hand before rolling it into a ball, or shape of your liking with both hands. If you’re imitating Maison du Chocolat, your truffles will be slightly potato-shaped. Otherwise, it’s a lumpy sphere for you – the classical truffle shape.

Whatever flavor and shape you use, these will, undoubtedly, add sparkle and zest to any holiday table. You should try to consume them within 8-9 days of the creation though – fresh ingredients only last so long.

While the Radish is off to a little sojourn in the Hamptons, I’ll be cooking there as well, and depending on internet access, try to post there too. Should I be cut off from all things online-related, I wish you all a very Happy New Year full of champagne and soirees!

August 05, 2005

Raspberries & Cream

On hot and muggy summer nights, such as ones we're getting in New York right now, it's hard to develop much of an appetite. It's also hard to muster any desire to cook. Diets become salads and fruit. Water consumption grows. White wine replaces red, at least for the time being.

I have been in study mode and so cooking until I am done with studying is out of the questions. Hence I cheat. Here, that is. I think of recipes and articles to post for you all to read that doesn't require me actually cooking anything at the moment. Forgive me my sins so far, I promise that I'll make this site worth your while.

And so. Back to the sticky weather. Last night I returned home in a foul mood. My day went from magically lucky to horribly wrong. I won't go into the sordid details, but I almost broke down in tears on the phone when a rather sensitive issue was brought up. Something had to change in my day and that something had to be food.

Now, I am not suggesting that every time you have a bad day, you seek out food as therapy. That could run dangerous. But I do think that a glass of lemonade, some tea, a bit of port - life's little luxuries - will brighten up your day and calm you a bit.

I raided my fridge only to find some chocolates, chilled white wine, hummus, bread, raspberries & cream. Instantly, I remembered a dessert a friend of mine and I used to make in school. She grew up with an English nanny and remembered her nanny giving her raspberries & cream for dessert in the summer. It was light, delicious and most of all, a little luxurious pampering I needed.

In less than a minute, I had myself a heaping bowl of fresh raspberries coated with cream. It was joyous! It was better than anything I had all day. And I instantly had a smile on my face. My otherwise horrid day disappeared into memory land.

The process is quite simple: