Once I found this recipe for dressing, I've never made any other one. It completely nails the sweet, savory and texture nodes. I use sweet cornbread when I make it, usually from the Jiffy Corn Muffin mix.
The downside is that it's not very flexible for modifications. I discovered this first at my brother's house. We swapped out the pork-based Italian sausage with a chicken sausage because some relative (my sister-in-law, maybe? It's been a while) couldn't eat pork.
The result tasted fine, but was way, way too dry. I think this happened twice, as I had forgotten between the two attempts. So this year, our friends Ebru and Fuzail joined us for the feast. Being Muslim, they couldn't eat the pork either, so I went a different route. I split the recipe into two and put sausage in one and left the other vegetarian. Finally remembering the moistness issue from nixxing the pork sausage before, I upped the chicken stock on the pork-free version.
Unfortunately, there may be a density factor at play here in the baking, also. I split the two versions into covered baking dishes, but they were only about half as deep as usual. Again, a bit dry. So, my lesson from this experience is to just do exactly what the nice people at Bon Appetit tell me. At least in this case.
UPDATE: I made this again at Christmas in Ft. Worth a few weeks later. I found that if you make it in one dish and you up the stock added by a cup or so, it turns out absolutely perfect. Yay!
Showing posts with label Favorites. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Favorites. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Green Onion Buttermilk Biscuits
I don't really know what to say about these other than they're incredibly good and I've never screwed them up. They're the only home made biscuits I've ever made and have been consistently successful for 6 years. So, I'd say it's a fool proof recipe. For some reason, it's not on-line, so this is a scan of a xerox from the magazine. I'll clean that up with either a scan of the original, if I find it, or I'll type it. But in the meantime...
Spinach Cheddar Bake
Bon Appetit describes this recipe as a "creamed spinach," but it's really more like a casserole. A very managemable and delicious way to include greens in the holiday meal - it always gets rave reviews. I've made this several times before, but I did learn two new things time:
- You can cut this in half. In fact, you should. As written (for 18!), this is an insanely generous amount. As much as I like leftovers of this stuff, really. This is the first time I've tried cutting it down and it worked.
- When reheating something with a crispy crust, do not leave the foil on the entire time. Okay, everyone, "Well, duh." Fine. I waited a bit too long and it was kinda moist. Don't think anyone knew the difference or cared.
Oh, and that first review with the bit about "adding pimentoes for color?" Crazy talk. Just saying.
Chocolate/White Chocolate Mousse Raspberry Tart
Oh, Lord. This is a long one.
I first made this tart on a dare. When I started cooking, I was on a project for BSG in St. Louis. One of my friends and co-workers there, Scott, would "dare" me that I couldn't make "X." That is, whatever it is he was craving at that time. Sometimes, I bit. Because whatever “X” was, it usually sounded like a good idea.
Once, when I was putting together a meal for the occasion of his wife, Namita's, visit to our project city, he dared me that I couldn't make a chocolate/white chocolate/raspberry desert of some type. So, I hunted down this recipe in my mom's collection of cookbooks as mine was pretty sad at the time and the internet was just a-birthing.
Yes, I'm old. Shut up.
It comes from a little collection called Beat This!, by Ann Hodgman. Quite appropriate for a challenge, I'd say. The book is a diverse gathering; the only thing tying the recipes together being the author's certainty that they are all simply the best ever. I bought my own copy, finally, but I can't say I've made anything else from it yet. That needs to change. It's just that the collection is such a random assortment, I never think to reach for it when I have something specific in mind. It is a very entertaining read and is definitely recommended.
To make this, I had to buy a tart pan. As I walked out of the store, I looked down at my bag and said to myself (and I'm totally not kidding here), "Well, Hal, today you are no longer a man."
I got over that. But that moment of emasculation is why I insist on calling this a tart instead of a "pie," as Hodgman calls it. If I had to have that moment to get the right pan, then it's a tart, damn it.
As I was going at it that afternoon, I could not make the crust to save my life. Three times I went at it, until I finally broke down and went to the store for that Pillsbury pre-made AND pre-rolled crust.
The rest went well and it was a big, impressive hit. It stayed in the repertoire, but it always bugged me that I was "cheating" because a) I'm terminally guilt-ridden and b) it was supposed to be a "french sugar cookie crust" which I really, really wanted to try. Really more of "b," to be honest, but never underestimate a Catholic upbringing, even second-hand as mine was. I even once tried rolling out the Pillsbury Sugar Cookie dough as a crust. Yes, disaster.
Whew, home stretch here, I promise.
So, now that I'm challenging myself, have learned a regular crust and was having a big-ass dinner, it was time to try again. Since I had the cheesecake, I took comfort in knowing I could abort at any time, if need be.
First thing Thursday morning, I tackled the crust. The first try, I did it as instructed in the food processor and got a big gloppy mess. Right away, I decided, "Screw it," and pulled out the pastry cutter. Sure enough, perfect. I forgot to set the timer and almost forgot it while it was blind baking, but thank God I remembered at the last minute and pulled it out at exactly the right time. There were going to be no threesies that day.
With that done, I pulled out all of the ingredients, lined them up and left them while I started work on all the rest of the dishes. If I got through with everything else, I'd tackle it. If not, it was a long weekend. I'd do it later.
Chris and BJ were the first to arrive at around 4:30 or so. I was rounding things up, sans tart, when they asked if there was anything they could do. Chris is a master of deserts and I realized, “Aha, here we go!” So I threw the book his way and asked him to start prepping. I knew he could handle it. Dinner was going to be a little late, but, by God, we’d have the tart. By the time, I could jump in, Chris was working the raspberries. We double teamed the rest and nailed it. I’m digging this collaborative cooking thing.
By the way, I think the flicking fingerfuls of white chocolate on the finished product sounds messy and like a waste of good white chocolate. I just melted a couple of ounces, spooned it into a sandwich bag, gathered it all in one corner, nipped off the tip and had myself a quick and easy little pastry bag. And the result? An already awesome desert made much, much better with the proper crust.
I first made this tart on a dare. When I started cooking, I was on a project for BSG in St. Louis. One of my friends and co-workers there, Scott, would "dare" me that I couldn't make "X." That is, whatever it is he was craving at that time. Sometimes, I bit. Because whatever “X” was, it usually sounded like a good idea.
Once, when I was putting together a meal for the occasion of his wife, Namita's, visit to our project city, he dared me that I couldn't make a chocolate/white chocolate/raspberry desert of some type. So, I hunted down this recipe in my mom's collection of cookbooks as mine was pretty sad at the time and the internet was just a-birthing.
Yes, I'm old. Shut up.
It comes from a little collection called Beat This!, by Ann Hodgman. Quite appropriate for a challenge, I'd say. The book is a diverse gathering; the only thing tying the recipes together being the author's certainty that they are all simply the best ever. I bought my own copy, finally, but I can't say I've made anything else from it yet. That needs to change. It's just that the collection is such a random assortment, I never think to reach for it when I have something specific in mind. It is a very entertaining read and is definitely recommended.
To make this, I had to buy a tart pan. As I walked out of the store, I looked down at my bag and said to myself (and I'm totally not kidding here), "Well, Hal, today you are no longer a man."
I got over that. But that moment of emasculation is why I insist on calling this a tart instead of a "pie," as Hodgman calls it. If I had to have that moment to get the right pan, then it's a tart, damn it.
As I was going at it that afternoon, I could not make the crust to save my life. Three times I went at it, until I finally broke down and went to the store for that Pillsbury pre-made AND pre-rolled crust.
The rest went well and it was a big, impressive hit. It stayed in the repertoire, but it always bugged me that I was "cheating" because a) I'm terminally guilt-ridden and b) it was supposed to be a "french sugar cookie crust" which I really, really wanted to try. Really more of "b," to be honest, but never underestimate a Catholic upbringing, even second-hand as mine was. I even once tried rolling out the Pillsbury Sugar Cookie dough as a crust. Yes, disaster.
Whew, home stretch here, I promise.
So, now that I'm challenging myself, have learned a regular crust and was having a big-ass dinner, it was time to try again. Since I had the cheesecake, I took comfort in knowing I could abort at any time, if need be.
First thing Thursday morning, I tackled the crust. The first try, I did it as instructed in the food processor and got a big gloppy mess. Right away, I decided, "Screw it," and pulled out the pastry cutter. Sure enough, perfect. I forgot to set the timer and almost forgot it while it was blind baking, but thank God I remembered at the last minute and pulled it out at exactly the right time. There were going to be no threesies that day.
With that done, I pulled out all of the ingredients, lined them up and left them while I started work on all the rest of the dishes. If I got through with everything else, I'd tackle it. If not, it was a long weekend. I'd do it later.
Chris and BJ were the first to arrive at around 4:30 or so. I was rounding things up, sans tart, when they asked if there was anything they could do. Chris is a master of deserts and I realized, “Aha, here we go!” So I threw the book his way and asked him to start prepping. I knew he could handle it. Dinner was going to be a little late, but, by God, we’d have the tart. By the time, I could jump in, Chris was working the raspberries. We double teamed the rest and nailed it. I’m digging this collaborative cooking thing.
By the way, I think the flicking fingerfuls of white chocolate on the finished product sounds messy and like a waste of good white chocolate. I just melted a couple of ounces, spooned it into a sandwich bag, gathered it all in one corner, nipped off the tip and had myself a quick and easy little pastry bag. And the result? An already awesome desert made much, much better with the proper crust.
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