Canning Time - Plum Ginger Jam & Nectarine Vanilla Bean Jam

While some people have shopping addictions, where they buy excessive amounts of shoes or handbags, I buy excessive amounts of food. Stone fruit season is in full swing in the bay area and Berkeley Bowl has three aisles of different types of stone fruit. I, of course, felt compelled to buy about 8 pounds of peaches, nectarines and plums (which is about 7.5 pounds more than I can consume in a reasonable period of time). Thus, I decided to make some jam.

A beautiful bunch of Protea "Blushing Bride" flowers

Summer Stone Fruit & Ginger Jam - I went to my go-to canning source - foodinjars.com and found a recipe for peach plum ginger jam that I adapted to fit my likes, my fruit supply and my equipment (or lack thereof). 

I started by getting a big pot of water boiling (see above) to sterilize my jars. I chopped up about 7-ish cups of fruit, mainly Santa Rosa plums, with a few Dapple Dandy pluots and White Nectarines thrown in for good measure. I cooked the fruit with a generous 3 cups sugar (and it was almost too sweet) and 1/2 cup ginger juice. As explained on Food in Jars you simply blend chopped ginger root with a bit of water. As an aside, this led me to the discovery that ginger juice separates(!!) into a liquid green layer and a heavier viscose white layer (the weird white layer reminds me of the combination of cornstarch and water - see above). Anyways, throw all ingredients in the pot and cook for 20 minutes-ish, stirring and smashing the fruit a bit as you go.

While prepping the jam(s) I threw (gently) the jars into the pot of boiling water.

Nectarine and Vanilla Bean Jam - I just winged it with this jam (I did a little research and found out that plums have natural pectin, while nectarines are very low on the natural pectin totem pole, but, since I had no pectin I forged ahead, sans-pectin). I cut up about 4 pounds of white and yellow nectarines and cooked them in a pot with a shave of lemon zest and a squeeze of lemon juice, a heaping cup (maybe 1 1/2) of sugar and a vanilla bean (sliced in half lengthwise with the seeds scraped out). Cook, stir and smush for 20-30 minutes.

To finish both jams, sans-canner, I turned off the fruit and one by one I removed my jars from the pot of boiling water with tongs. For each jar I placed it on a clean surface and ladled the piping hot jam in (this would have been made simpler with a wide-neck funnel). To finish, I carefully pulled out the lid pieces from the boiling water and placed them atop the filled jar (still with my tongs) and then quickly screwed on the lid. I flipped the jars upside down and left them to cool on a dishtowel. Once cool (it will take 4-5 hours) turn them right-side up and if the lid is depressed your jar has successfully sealed!

A note on pectin - My nectarine and vanilla bean jam (low on natural pectin but added a little citrus which is high in pectin) was much thicker than my plum ginger jam (high-ish in natural pectin).

Jalapeno and Red-Cornbread

Mutinous squash plant 

I was at my favorite place, Berkeley Bowl, and found this beautiful red corn and, while I had no idea what I was going to do with it, I decided that I needed to have it. 

I had a quart of buttermilk sitting in my fridge begging to be used so I decided to make cornbread.

To make: Combine 1.5 cups coarse ground yellow cornmeal, 1/2 cup flour, 1 tablespoon sugar, 2 teaspoons baking powder and 1 teaspoon each of baking soda and salt. In a separate bowl beat together 2 large eggs and 1.5 cups buttermilk. Add the wet ingredients to the dry and stir to combine.

Homegrown (not by me) Dahlia

To finish the batter, fold in 2 cups fresh corn kernels and the corn 'milk' (run your knife up and down the de-kerneled cob to extract the milky corn-y liquid from the cob), along with two finely diced (seeded) jalapenos, and 1.5 cups grated sharp cheddar. Once everything is combined pour the mixture into two loaf pans and bake for about 20-30 mins at 425 degrees, until it is cooked through and golden brown on top.

I based my recipe on the a recipe from Gourmet magazine. I thought it was good, but have maybe decided that I like finer ground cornmeal. Conclusion: I am a fluffy cornbread lover not crunchy.

Skirt Steak - Trés Simple

I rarely cook red meat, this isn't to say I don't crave it, I just don't often think to buy it. In addition, I basically never order it out - I grew up eating deliciously cooked, flavorfully marinated (care of my father's apricot jam, garlic and rosemary concoctions) tender steak and have yet to see much at a restaurant that lives up to that. That being said, I made a pretty damn good steak.

I seasoned the steak generously with salt and pepper, dusted with a little cayenne and cumin and finished by slathering it in a few cloves of chopped garlic and the juice of one lime. I let the flavors merry for some hours while I made my sides and enjoyed a home made margarita (I'm pretending it's summer).

For one of my favorite appetizers of the moment I have been sautéing shishito or padron peppers (for Calvin Trillin's characteristically enjoyable narrative about padrons click here) with a little olive oil and then sprinkling them with sea salt to finish. Being a self-admitted spice-wimp, it is always a little bit like playing Russian roulette because most of the peppers are tame with a pleasant pepper hint, but, occasionally, you will get one that will really blow you away (my best advice is to take a tiny nibble to start - and, spice-wimp that I am, this has served me well).

To finish the skirt steak, if you have a grill (well that would mean that you have outdoor space and I would be jealous) - use it, for those of us who don't heat up you grill pan until it's nice and hot, brush with a smidge of olive oil and throw on the steak. Cook for about 2 1/2 - 3 1/2 minutes per side, I like my steak on the rarer side, add an extra minute per side for medium-ish. I served mine with cilantro smashed potatoes, fresh garden tomatoes, and a special cornbread - recipe to follow. . . 

The padron aftermath

Wedding and a Cake

The lovely couple

This past weekend, I had the pleasure of going to a friend's beautiful wedding. Here are some photos of the wedding, and a recipe for a 'celebratory cake' (this cake should definitely only be used in celebration, as it is armed with dangerous amounts of butter . . . I could have eaten the whole thing in one sitting).

Not my hand

I mildly adjusted Ina Garten's chocolate cake recipe and came up with the following:

Sift 1 3/4 cup flour with 2 cups sugar, 3/4 cup good cocoa powder, 2 tsp baking soda and 1 tsp each of salt and baking powder. In a separate bowl combine 1 cup buttermilk, 1/2 cup vegetable oil, 2 eggs and 1 tbsp of vanilla extract. Add the wet ingredients to the dry, stir to combine and to finish the batter add in 1 cup room temp coffee. Butter and flour two cake pans. Pour the batter in and bake at 350 degrees for just over 1/2 hour (do the toothpick trick to make sure they are done).

Heirloom Tomato Salad with Burrata from Paula LeDuc Fine Catering

For the pièce de résistance - the chocolate buttercream - you really need to block out all health consciousness or thoughts of moderation and forge ahead. I will say that, for the butter cream, you need to have soft butter (especially when doing this by hand). Of course, I forgot to take the butter out.  Not to worry,  I knew I could just slyly microwave it for a few seconds . . . a few seconds later I found that I had a microwave full of melted butter. After scooping up what I could I attempted to let the melty butter cool and re-solidify – fabulous idea. Long story short I got out two new sticks of butter and let them sit out and warm up, au naturale. 

To make the butter cream, melt 6-8 ounces good chocolate (I used bittersweet). While the chocolate is melting beat the two sticks of butter until they are "light yellow and fluffy" – I did it until my hand gave out and it looked a smidgen fluffy. Add in 1 egg yolk and 2 tsp vanilla extract and continue to beat for a few more minutes. Slowly add 1 1/4 cup powdered sugar. To finish add in the melted chocolate and put in a few tablespoons of coffee. Your butter cream is complete. To finish I frosted the cake and then sprinkled the frosting with some nice sea salt which gave the cake a really nice savory end and the tiniest crunch.

The Closer - Cilantro Mint Chutney

I made a quick cilantro "chutney" (if I weren't making an Indian-themed meal it would just be called a sauce) to round out my Indian meal.

To make: Throw a handful (about a cup) of cilantro leaves, a smaller handful of mint leaves (about 1/3 cup), 1 serrano chili (I seeded it), 1 tablespoon of water, 1/4-1/2 teaspoon salt and the juice of one lime into a blender. Blend until smooth and enjoy - very simple yet very tasty.

Indian Feast Partie Deux - Potatoes!

I made a mustard seed-y, bright yellow (care of the turmeric) potato dish to go with my chicken. It is kind of like aloo gobi, but without the gobi (cauliflower). 

Deep-sea diving mask at the Alameda Flea  Market.

To make: I began by simply quartering 3 pounds of yukon gold potatoes. Then it got exciting, I heated some oil in a pan and, having glanced at a recipe, was instructed to add 3 tablespoons of black and yellow mustard seeds until they began to 'pop.' This sounded reasonable enough - I have heated spices and seeds in oil before to infuse the oil with flavor, thus setting up a nice flavor base . . . It wasn't hard to notice when the seeds began to pop because they rapidly started to hurl themselves out of the pan and across my kitchen. Calm, as always, I started shrieking and laughing as I watched my newly mopped kitchen become cluttered with flying black seeds. I eventually gathered my wits about me enough to yank the pan off the heat and, lacking any better option, thrust the pan out the open window. 

It was all blue skies from there on out - I brought the pan back in added some more mustard seeds to the now warm oil (as all of the original mustard seeds were enjoying their new home on my floor). I then added in a chopped onion, my potatoes, a bit more oil, salt, a couple teaspoons of turmeric, a dash of paprika and ground ginger. I let it cook for a few minutes before pouring in a few tablespoons of chicken stock and covering the pan to let the potatoes steam. I steamed until the little taters were tender, removed from heat, tossed with a half cup of chopped cilantro and served. 

Alphabet at the flea market.

Indian Kick - Tandoori Chicken

 

Setting the scene: It was a perfect San Francisco summer day – 64 degrees and gray skies – and I had a craving for Indian. 

Display at the Alameda Flea Market

I am going to do my best to do a little series that made up my Indian extravaganza, starting with my Tandoori Chicken. Now, I did some serious research, as I didn't want to have a totally white-washed version of Tandoori Chicken . . . that being said I took some liberties and I definitely don't have a real Tandoor oven.

For a great post on Tandoori Chicken you can read about David Lebovitz's foray here. 

I started with 1 teaspoon coriander, 2 teaspoons cumin, 2 teaspoons garam masala, 1 teaspoon turmeric, 1/2 teaspoon salt and a few shakes of cayenne. I combined the spices with 2 or 3 tablespoons minced ginger, 2 minced cloves of garlic, 1 sliced serrano chili, the juice of one lime and 1 1/2 cups plain Greek yogurt. Once all the ingredients were mixed I poured the marinade over my 4 whole chicken legs and stuck it in the fridge to marinate. It should marinate for a nice long while (overnight is always good) but sometimes when you get a craving, you aren't able to plan that far ahead. I now know that the chicken turns out just fine if it only marinates for some hours. 

View of the city from Alameda

Pull the chicken out of the marinade and cook on a grill pan at high heat for about seven minutes a side. If the chicken isn't cooked through (as was the case when I made this) pop the chicken in a 400 degree oven for another few minutes (leaving it on the grill pan can result in the skin getting a nice char). 


For chicken accompaniments . . . stay tuned.

A Faux-Forager's Delight - Morels

I never liked mushrooms. That is, until one day, when I was in 4th grade, during a trip with my family to Costa Rica. We were each served a bowl of mushroom soup, and I begrudgingly agreed to try it. One creamy, earthy taste and I was sold . . . going on to lick my bowl clean and then greedily eat most of my mother's portion as well. I now have an intense love of mushrooms and am prone to order any mushroom-y menu item when out on the town. 

My mother is visiting, and I took her to my version of Disneyland - Berkeley Bowl. It is an amazing produce-centric market in Berkeley with the most incredible array of fruits and veggies from around the globe. Walking through the mushroom section we both locked our eyes on the box of morels and began to drool. Then we noticed that the price was outrageously affordable (only $15/pound – if that sounds like a lot, they are $40/pound at my neighborhood grocery), and we dove in.

As for preparation, with such a luxuriously lovely ingredient I wanted to keep it simple and just enjoy the morel. I sauteed one diced shallot in butter. Once translucent I added in one diced clove of garlic. After a minute of letting those flavors marry, I added my half-pound (!) of morels and sauteed over medium-high heat for about 5 minutes. To finish, I seasoned them generously with salt and pepper, reduced the heat to low and poured in about 3/4 cup of heavy cream. I let the sauce cook for 10-15 minutes over very low heat, until the cream was infused with a nice mushroom-y-ness.

We ate the mushrooms over plain pasta . . .

 . . . and savored every last morsel.

My dishwasher.