Happily Ever After

Oops, I did it again.

I went weeks, plural, without posting. Not that you noticed, probably (unless you’re the very loyal boyfriend sort of reader), because you had lovely, tipsy holiday parties to attend, gooey-sugary-chocolaty-nutty Christmas cookies to bake, and shimmery-shiny-comes-in-a-little-black-box presents to buy/stress out about.

I was at that place again, facilitating a lot of these activities—arranging cookie platters, dusting endless loaves of gingerbread and stollen, and wrapping them all up in oversize bows—and not getting a lot of sleep. Laid up as I am now, however, with the inevitable consequences of being overworked with lots of sniffly coworkers, I am 1) willing myself to feel better for a NYE weekend with college friends and boyfriend in NYC and 2) finally getting around to posting. So here goes.

Every blogger seems to need to have a “the-only-chocolate-chip-cookie-recipe-you’ll-ever-need” post.

I call it Brown Sugar No. 3

But folks, I have commitment problems when it comes to chocolate chip cookies. Maida Heatter’s Chocolate Chip Honey Cookies and I have been going steady for a while—they’re just so easy to make, and they fill the house with such a wonderful clover perfume. But I had a couple of dates with a Washington Post recipe a few years back, and I even had a one-batch-stand with the NYT’s self-titled Perfect Chocolate Chip cookies, engineered by Jacques Torres and rigorously tested by the discerning likes of the Dining Section.

Then there are the oatmeal-ed contestants. My first love will always be my grandmother’s take on the classic Tollhouse recipe (with Crisco, not butter!), which my father faithfully makes for office potlucks and on rainy days. Then, there are the chocolate-cherry-oatmeal cookies I adore, the confection of the mother of one of my dearest college friends. Jan’s cookies always have a wonderful chewy quality I’ve never been able to replicate in my own kitchen, though I’ve tried multiple times. Finally, there are the cookies that I sneak chunks of at the bakery—nutty, chewy little numbers that still manage to stay soft days after baking due to their unconscionable butter content (but they have whole wheat, which pretty much cancels out the butter, right?).

Amidst all these wonderful recipes, I can’t believe I’m about to tell you that I think I have finally found THE ONE. The cooky I can spend the rest of my days with. I want to crow from the rooftops that I have found a cooky with all the sweetness of mood enhancing chocolate, the faithfulness and staying power of oatmeal and whole wheat, the chewiness and pseudo-healthiness of raisins and the intoxicating spice of banana bread. Yup, this is one tough cookie to beat. You know it’s true, because the title has the word “badass” in it. Yes ma’am.

Lauren’s Badass Trailmix Cookies

From Anna Thomas’s Love Soup (Jules ftw, again)

Makes about 4 ½ dozen cookies

¾ c. unbleached white flour

1 c. whole wheat flour (this isn’t just a ploy at healthfulness—the nutty flavor and toothsomeness of the whole wheat really ratchets these cookies up a notch!)

¾ tsp. baking powder

¾ tsp. baking soda

½ tsp. cinnamon

½ tsp. nutmeg (freshly ground is always more delicious—and the actual nutmeg holds its flavor much better than the preground stuff)

½ tsp. salt

¼ c. white sugar

1 ½ c. packed brown sugar (I used a combination of light and dark)

2 large eggs

1 ripe banana, mashed

2 ½ tsp. vanilla extract

3 ½ c. rolled oats

1 c. raisins (or cranberries, or cherries, or apricots….)

¾ c. chopped walnuts (I used pecans, because I already had toasted, chopped ones lying around)

¾ c. (or more) bittersweet or semisweet chocolate chunks

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line 2 or 3 large baking sheets with parchment (This isn’t just baking fussiness—it makes your life easier, because the cookies won’t stick and the sheets won’t need washing, generally.)

Whisk together the flours, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg and salt in a small bowl.

In a large bowl, beat the softened butter with the white and brown sugars until it looks fluffy, then beat in the eggs, mashed banana (you should have at least a ½ c.) and vanilla extract.

Stir or beat the flour mixture into the butter mixture until well combined, but do not overbeat. Stir in the oats, raisins, chopped nuts and chocolate, until everything is well mixed.

Scoop up rounded tablespoons of the dough and use a second spoon to push them off onto the parchment-lined baking sheets. (Or scoop the dough and shape it into a ball with damp fingers.) Leave at least two inches space between cookies. Bake the cookies for 16-18 minutes, or until lightly browned around the edges—reverse the position of the pans halfway through.

Transfer the cookies to a rack while they are still warm and allow them to cool.

P.S. I apologize for the lack of finished cookie pictures. I couldn't get one that did them justice, and I didn't want you to think any less of these beauties for my lack of photographical prowess.

Alone in the Kitchen with a Brisket

What’s that you say? Thanksgiving has come and gone, and Chanukkah’s nearly done…and I haven’t posted a gosh darn thing? A holiday that’s entirely about eating, and a Jewish holiday (it would be redundant to say here “that’s entirely about eating”) and I have no recipes to show for it?

I’m ever so sorry. As it turns out, that place where I said I’d be—well I was there pretty much straight through Thanksgiving week. And then the brother was home Thursday through Saturday—which precludes the possibility of any activity not involving him, as he blows through the house like the most charming of whirlwinds, whipping everyone into his whirlwind agenda.

And then Sunday morning, the house was silent.

 Not a creature was stirring, or something like that.

In the hours between 4:30AM and 8:30AM on November 28, our house went from a population of six to a population of one (maybe two, if you count the dog).

And it stayed that way. Until 8PM on this past Sunday night.

Amazing though, how much homeowner-type-stuff there is to do, even when there is only one in the home. There was critter-walking, critter-feeding, and critter-bathing to do. There was the laundry and the dishes that six people leave behind after a holiday weekend. There were adjustments to thermostats to be made, as December blustered in.

Of course I still messed around in the kitchen (despite being left solo with six people’s worth of Thanksgiving leftovers). I baked finals-stress-level supporting cookies (recipe coming soon) and Christmas cookies (ditto). And finally, when there was the promise of other people being around (i.e. my parents coming home), I made real food.

But with all those homeownery things to do, I couldn’t find time to write about these exploits. But now, the rents are home again, and my father is back to turning all the thermostats down to 58 degrees and mom is back to feeding and walking and doting on the critter (who has since forgotten that I was her lifeline for a week, and doesn’t even acknowledge my presence now that the alpha dogs are home). And so it is finally time to post.

Did you notice how there was no “recipe coming soon” bit after I referred to the real food I made for my parents? That’s because that’s what’s coming now.

My family is a family of habit and ritual, to put it mildly. Whenever we go to the beach, we have to hit all the same restaurants, buy all the same beach toys (to lose, one by one), stay at the same house. Similarly, whenever we throw our annual Chanukkah party, the featured dishes are always the same (this isn’t to say we don’t mess around with the side dishes and get creative in other ways—we are, after all, a family of experimental foodies who never follow directions and therefore can never EXACTLY recreated dishes).

This year, due to the timing of Chanukkah and certain vacations to Mexico, a Chanukkah party wasn’t in the cards. But I was damned if I was gonna miss Sauerbraten a la Nathan and Latkes with Homemade Applesauce.

So when my parents came home on Sunday night, that’s what was waiting for them—with a side of green beans, and a dessert of newcomer Cranberry Walnut tart. (Like I said, tradition and experimentation aren’t mutually exclusive. Life lessons coming to you live, from HowNowChowChow, imbued with all the sagacity of a 22 year old.)

Sauerbraten a la Nathan
Joan Nathan’s Jewish Holiday Kitchen

I LOVE this brisket. The meat is lovely—and I like making brisket, because meat makes me nervous, and brisket is pretty foolproof—but the marinade is stupendous. Sure, the marinade is great served with the brisket—but it’s also phenomenal poured into a soupbowl with some cooked rice or egg noodles. Seriously. It the most warming, savory broth. I just drooled a little on my keyboard.

One 5-lb. brisket of beef, shoulder roast of beef, chuck roast, or end of steak
2 tsp. salt
3 tbsp. brown sugar
1 c. chili sauce (I used a 12 oz. jar of Heinz)
1 ½ c. white vinegar (running low on white, I swapped in some apple cider)
1 c. chopped celery leaves (left this out)
2 onions, sliced
4 carrots, sliced
2 c. water

Mix salt, brown sugar, chili sauce and vinegar together. Pour over meat and let stand overnight in the refrigerator. (Or your porch, if it’s colder than a witch’s you-know-what outside.)

Preheat oven to 325 degrees F. Place the meat in an ovenproof casserole, pouring marinade over meat. Cover with vegetables and water.

Cover and bake for about 2 hours, basting often with marinade. Remove cover for 1 more hour. (Allow approximately ½ hour per pound for roasting.)

*This dish is best prepared in advance so that the fat can be easily skimmed from the surface (and to let the flavors deepend).

When ready to serve, slice and reheat in the strained pan marinade.

**Alternative roasting instructions: For a more tender roast, put all ingredients in covered casserole and bake in a 200 degree oven overnight, for about 9 hours (and be fully perplexed by the smell of vinegar, chili sauce, and beef with your morning coffee). My parents generally use this method, but everyone else was nervous enough about me taking care of the house for a week that I didn’t want to prove them all right by burning the house down.

Cranberry Walnut Tart
Joan Nathan’s Jewish Holiday Baker

I usually make Nathan’s Mexican Banana Cake from this book—it’s phenomenal, and though specifically for Chanukkah, is delicious and quite pretty at any time of year. I decided to branch out with  this guy—it’s sort of like Shoo-Fly Pie with a hint of tart sophistication from the cranberries and some depth from the toasted walnuts. The recipe creator—Andra Tunick Karnofsky—likes the recipe for Chanukkah because the red flecks of cranberries “remind her of the flames of the menorah candles.” I’ll let you decide whether that holds true, but regardless, it’s an elegant looking thing and very easy to make, especially with the help of a food processor.

Crust:
1 ¾ c. all-purpose flour
¼ c. granulated sugar
½ c. unsalted butter
3 tbsp. vegetable shortening
¼ c. ice water

Filling:
2/3 c. light corn syrup (take that, Michael Pollan!)
2/3 c. light brown sugar
3 large eggs
1 tsp. vanilla extract
4 tbsp. unsalted butter, melted
1 ½ c. coarsely chopped fresh cranberries
1 c. coarsely chopped walnuts, toasted lightly

Put the flour, sugar, butter and vegetable shortening in a food processor fitted with the steel blade. Pulse until crumbly. Gradually add the ice water, processing until the dough forms a ball (this never ceases to strike me as magic). Wrap the dough and refrigerate for at least one hour.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Remove dough from fridge, and, on a floured surface (I often use floured waxed paper, to decrease risk of dough stuck to counter), roll it into a circle 13 inches wide. Line a 10- or 11-inch tart pan with a removable bottom (optional) with the dough, trimming off the excess. Prick the dough with a fork.

Line the dough with baking parchment, and fill the baking parchment with the pie weights of your choice (I use beans). Bake for 10-12 minutes, or until the dough just begins to brown (my took FORever, so don’t be alarmed if yours does too). Remove pie weights and parchment and allow crust to cool. Keep oven at 350 degrees.

Blend corn syrup and light-brown sugar in a mixing bowl until smooth. Beat in eggs, 1 at a time, then the vanilla and melted butter. Stir in chopped cranberries and walnuts. Pour the mixture into the partially baked and cooled tart crust. Bake for 40-50 minutes, or until a knife inserted in the center of the pie comes out clean. Serve with Grand Marnier Whipped Cream.

Grand Marnier Whipped Cream
HowNow, I guess?

¾ c. heavy whipping cream
1 tsp. superfine sugar
1 tsp. Grand Marnier

Chill beaters and bowl for whipping in freezer for at least 30 minutes. Pour whipping cream into chilled bowl, and whip with chilled beaters, until the cream starts to thicken. Add sugar and Grand Marnier. Continue whipping to desired consistency. Dollop alongside tart (and clean the rest of the bowl using instrument of choice, including fingers).