104. Fresh Tomato Salsa (p. 896)

The Superbowl was last Sunday. And you know what that means ... chips and dips! We watched "The Big Game" at my sister-in-law's house on their huge-mongous hi-def TV. I made this recipe for salsa, and some guacamole that I'll write about in my next post.

The salsa recipes in The Book are intended to be used as condiments for grilled meats, so in order to use them as party dips, you need to double the recipe.

To make this salsa, I chopped some plum tomatoes. The Book says that you can seed the tomatoes if you want, or you can leave them in. I chose to leave them in. Then I minced a serrano chile. The Book calls for two, but since serranos rate 10,000 to 23,000 on the Scoville Scale, I decided to keep it pretty mild. I chopped some white onion, which The Book says is better than yellow onions for recipes calling for raw onions because of its "sharper, cleaner, brighter flavor." Finally, I chopped some fresh cilantro. I mixed up all of these ingredients, and that's it. The Book calls for adding three tablespoons of water, but I omitted this because I though that it would make the salsa too watery.

This was a pretty good salsa. I served it with some multi-grain tortilla chips. It was fresh, simple and clean tasting, and it had just the right amount of heat. This could easily be a party stand-by.

Date Cooked: February 1, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Easy
Rating: A-

103. Sauteed Dessert Crêpes (p. 791)

It was Candlemas the other day. What's that, you say? In the Christian tradition, it's the celebration of the presentation of the baby Jesus at the temple forty days after Christmas. In other traditions, it's observed as the mid-point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox (a.k.a. Groundhog Day). In France, people eat crêpes on Candlemas. Tradition says that if the cook can flip a crêpe while holding a coin in the other hand, the family is assured of prosperity throughout the coming year.

I've never made crêpes before, so I thought that I'd give them a try. I didn't try the coin trick, because this way my first time, and I figured that I'd need both hands, but just the same, I think it's a pretty auspicious sign for a prosperous new year that the crêpes came out all right.

The batter was pretty easy to make. It's just a couple of eggs, some flour, milk, a little bit of Cognac, and a pinch of salt. The Book says to put about 1 1/2 tablespoons of the batter in a hot crêpe pan or skillet. Because I didn't read the recipe carefully enough, I used a 10" skillet instead of the 7-8" skillet The Book says to use. As a result, it took about 3 to 4 tablespoons of batter to coat the bottom of the pan. It only took a couple of seconds to cook each of the crêpes, and they slid right out of the pan with the help of a rubber spatula. I was pretty impressed.

As each of the crêpes cooked, I folded it in quarters and put them on a plate. When they were all done, I melted some butter in the skillet and arranged the crapes in the pan and sauteed them for a little while until they were nice and golden on the bottom. I served them, as The Book suggested, sprinkled with some sugar and topped with some sliced fresh strawberries.

These crêpes were pretty good. They were light and tender and buttery. The sprinkling of sugar gave them a little bit of sweetness, and the sliced fresh strawberries were a necessary touch (although The Book says that they're optional).

Now, this recipe* is in The Book's Pies, Tarts and Pastries chapter, but I made it for breakfast last Sunday. Dessert for breakfast? Well, first of all what are crêpes but thin pancakes? And what are pancakes but a breakfast food? And anyway, I'm a grown-up, and if I want to eat dessert for breakfast, I can. So there! But, if I had made this for dessert, I would have been pretty dissapointed. These were a bit too light and not sweet enough for a dessert. Also, the fresh strawberries were nice, but if this is really going to be a dessert, they need some kind of sauce. Finally, I'm not sure what the purpose of adding the Congnac is, but if you ask me, Grand Marnier would hav been a better choice because it would have given the crêpes a nice orange flavor.

Date Cooked: February 1, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Easier than I thought it would be!
Rating: C+

*This recipe isn't on epicurious.com.

102. Turkey Chipotle Chili (p. 388)

Continuing on the theme of "cook something big on the weekend so we don't have to cook during the week," I made this recipe because it looked like it would freeze well and because I knew that it would be good for three or four meals.

Actually, between the food I cooked and froze in advance, the cooking that I've been doing on the weekends, and the meals that a co-worker's wife has been making for us (she's a saint!), my wife and I haven't had to cook dinner on a weeknight since my son was born five weeks ago. It's made such a big difference.

The first thing that I did to make this chili was to puree some canned chipotle peppers in adobo sauce and some fresh tomatillos (I was surprised to find fresh tomatillos at the grocery store in January. The Book says that canned are OK, too.) and put them aside. Next I cooked up some chopped onions, minced garlic and cumin. I added four pounds of ground turkey (this is a meaty chili) and cooked it until it was no longer pink. Then I added the two purees, some chicken broth, a bay leaf and some oregano. After that had simmered for a while, I added some chopped green bell pepper and chopped canned green chiles and simmered for a while longer. Finally, I added some canned white beans that had been drained and rinsed. Once it was heated through and seasoned with salt and pepper, it was ready to eat, topped with a dallop of sour cream and a sprinkling of shredded cheddar cheese.

This was a nice, hearty, meaty chili. The use of tomatillos insted of tomatoes gave it a nice bright and tangy flavor. I didn't think that the chipotle and adobo flavor were strong enough, and when I make this again (this recipe is a keeper), I'll add more to give it some of additional heat and smokiness.

Date Cooked: January 25, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Medium
Rating: B+

101. Best Rice Pudding (p. 827)

If this recipe* is the "Best Rice Pudding," then what does that mean for the other rice pudding recipe in The Book (Dried Cherry and Raisin Rice Pudding, p. 827)? Is it the "second-best" rice pudding, or (perish the thought!) the "worst" rice pudding? I'm sure that any offense to the other rice pudding recipe was unintended by The Book's editors.

Well, I'll just have to wait until I've made both rice puddings until I can say for sure that this one really is the "best," but for the time being, I can vouch for it being pretty darn good.

I can't remember the last time I had rice pudding, but I know that I like it. It's sweet, creamy and starchy. It's one of those great comforting, old-fashioned dishes that makes you feel warm and happy.

To make this dish, I started by making some white rice flavored with butter, salt and lemon zest. (Before I went any further, I tasted the rice, and made a note to myself that this lemony-buttery rice would be good with some grilled fish.) Next I simmered some whole milk, sugar and half of a vanilla bean sliced in half lengthwise. I've never cooked with real vanilla beans before. I've always been scared off by the price (more than $8 for two beans at my local mega-mart!). I suppose I have to admit that it really did make a difference. The vanilla flavor in the finished pudding was delicious and intense, and not at all like the flavor you get from vanilla extract, even the good stuff.

Finally, I stirred in the cooked rice and some raisins and simmered until most of the liquid had absorbed and it had the texture of risotto.

The Book says to cool until just warm before serving. I made this the day before I was going to serve it, though. So, I cooled it to room temperature and put it in the refrigerator overnight. Just before I served it, I put the pudding in small bowls and heated it up in the microwave for about a minute. A little dusting of cinnamon on top, and it was ready to enjoy.

This pudding was great. Nothing fancy, just a simple, comforting, warming dessert with a wonderful creaminess and texture. The intense but smooth vanilla flavor and the plump, sweet raisins make this pudding special. My wife had some of the leftover pudding the next day cold. I tasted it that way, but it wasn't for me. I preferred it warm.

Date Cooked: January 24, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Easy
Rating: B+

*There are lots of rice pudding recipes on epicurious.com, but this isn't one of them.

100. Brown Sugar Fudge (p. 695)

My one-hundredth recipe! I've still got a looooong way to go, but it's a milestone just the same. And to celebrate, how about something sweet?

Growing up, most holidays involved someone bringing out a white cardboard box of chocolates and fudge from Priscilla's Candies in Lawrence. I always went for the chocolate fudge, and turned my nose up at the favorite of the older folks ... penuche ("puh-noo-chee"). Now that I'm older myself, and a bit wiser, I've grown to realize that this sweet, rich, caramel-y fudge should not be overlooked.

The Book refers to this confection by it's Southern name, Brown Sugar Fudge. Because I'm a New Englander, I'll call it by its (proper) regional name, penuche. Whatever you call it, you make it by bringing some light brown sugar, evaporated milk, butter and salt to a boil and then simmering it until it reaches 238 on a candy thermometer - soft ball stage.

The words "candy thermometer" and "soft ball" were almost enough to make me pass this recipe by. I've never made candy before, and my candy thermometer is an old-school, hand-me-down mercury thermometer encased in a brittle-looking glass tube. But, heck, I'm a man on a mission, and I have to make this eventually. And, anyway, what's the worse that could happen?

So, I cooked the sugar and milk mixture until the thermometer was around 240 degrees (there was no way to know for sure that I was at exactly 238 on my antique thermometer). As it cooked, I kept testing it according to the advice in The Book, drop a small amount in a bowl of cold water, if it holds a soft ball when pressed together, it's ready. The first few of my tests resulted in blobs of caramel dissolving in the water. I was getting discouraged, when all of a sudden, there it was, a soft ball!

Then I transferred the hot sugar and milk mixture to a bowl and beat in some vanilla extract and confectioner's sugar. Finally, I stirred in some toasted chopped walnuts into the fudge. This step is not in The Book's recipe, but the Priscilla's penuche I remember from my childhood had nuts, and that's how I was going to make it. So there!

I spread the fudge into an 8-inch square baking dish and put it in the refirgerator for about an hour. Before I spread the fudge in the pan, I lined it with a piece of heavy-duty foil with the ends overlapping the sides of the pan to form a little sling that I'd be able to use to lift the fudge out of the pan after it chilled .... a little trick I learned from an episode of America's Test Kitchen. After it was nice and hardened, I lifted the fudge out of the pan using the foil sling, and I cut it into 64 pieces.

This fudge was awesome! It was sweet, decadent and creamy. The toasted nuts gave it a nice crunch and additional flavor dimension. Even though this fudge was very rich, it was so good that we couldn't help eating piece after piece. It was a good thing that I brought the fudge to my in-law's house for my wife's grandmother's birthday dinner, otherwise, the two of us could have eaten all of the fudge ourselves ... probably in one sitting.

Since this fudge turned out so well, I'm looking forward to making the other candy recipes in The Book, but not until I get a proper candy thermometer.

Date Cooked: January 17, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Medium
Rating: A

99. Lentil and Brown Rice Stew (p. 276)

Continuing my theme of cooking on the weekend for the week ahead, I picked this recipe because The Book says it serves 6 to 8, and since there's just 2 of us (my son's not going to be eating solid food for a while now), I knew that we'd get a least three meals out of one day's worth of cooking.

I also picked the recipe because it looked like a hearty vegetarian meal (sort of ... it's got chicken broth) packed with all sorts of wholesome ingredients. That, and it looked really easy to make. Basically, all you do it throw all of the ingredients - including canned tomatoes, chicken stock, lentils, brown rice, carrots, onions, celery, and flavorings like garlic, thyme and a bay leaf - into a pot and simmer for about a hour. Then I stirred in some parsley and some smoked turkey sausage that I had leftover from the jumbalaya I made the week before. The sausage isn't in the recipe, but the blurb in The Book suggests that "adding about a pound of smoked sausage makes a great dish even better." How could I not add sausage?

This stew was good. It didn't change my life, but it was a very satisfying weeknight dinner, and I'd make it again. The combination of the rice and lentils gave it a nice substance and texture. The flavor was good, if difficult to place. I don't know if it was the thyme and bay, or the flavor from the sausage, but the stew made both me and my wife think of barbecue sauce. Strange, no?

This stew did well in the freezer and microwave.

Date Cooked: January 17, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Easy
Rating: B+

98. Chicken and Sausage Jumbalaya (p. 369)

These days I'm looking for recipes that offer a big return on the time investment. This recipe* was exactly what I was looking for. This dish made enough food for dinner three nights in a row ... and it was so good that we didn't mind the repetition.

I was surprised to learn that jumbalaya traces it roots to paella. I guess it makes sense. Both are hearty dishes of meat, vegetables and rice with a rich stock. I also learned the difference between jumbalaya and the other classic Louisiana dishes, gumbo and etouffee. In the former, everythng is cooked together, but in the traditional preparations of the latter, the rice is cooked separately.

To make this dish, first, I browned some chicken pieces, and by some, I mean five pounds! (I told you this recipe makes a lot of food.) Then I browned some sliced smoked turkey sausage in the oil and rendered chicken fat. The Book calls for andouille sausage, but because my wife won't eat pork, I opted for turkey sausage. Once that was done, I set aside the meat and drained off almost all of the fat and cooked onions, celery, green peppers and garlic. Then, I put the chicken back in the pot, along with some chopped canned tomatoes, chicken stock, water and cayenne. I simmered all of this for a while.

Then, The Book's instructions get a little confusing. I had to read it a few times, but once I figured it out, it made sense. First, you take the chicken out of the pot and put it in a bowl. Then you measure the cooking liquid and vegetables to make sure that it's seven cups. If more, cook it down, if less, add water. Then add uncooked rice to the seven cups of vegetables and cooking liquid. Arrange the chicken on top and bake it for about a half hour.

Cooking the rice in the same liquid that the chicken and vegetables simmered it gives it a wonderful richness. Baking the rice instead of cooking it on the stovetop was great, too. The even heat of the oven makes sure that each grain of rice is cooked perfectly.

This was an excellent, hearty stick-to-your ribs meal. It reheated well, and as I said, it was so tasty, we didn't mind the repetition of eating it night after night. It would also make a crowd-pleasing meal for a party.

Date Cooked: January 11, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Medium
Rating: A-

* This recipe is not online.