colorful holiday cheesecakes

When I shop for sweet potatoes, I always hold a sort of hope that a taste of the islands can be found. You see, on the two trips I have taken to the Big Island, we delighted in sampling some of the local produce: coconut, bananas, papaya, pineapple, guava, longan, and some of the more familiar to us tomatoes, corn, and sweet potatoes. Only one thing, these sweet potatoes were purple. Heavenly, yummy, purple, gorgee-ous little sweet potatoes. Some of the local restaurants served it up as a side dish, to say a seared ahi steak or grilled ono fillet, in the form of light and fluffy lavender mountain, with a red colored salad sprig stuck in the top, representing lava spewing out. I fell in love with this form of mashed potatoes at first tasting, and we later purchased some raw ones at the local farmers' market and tried mashing them up ourselves. Well, our selections in lodging somehow never managed to have the right utensil, namely a masher in a kitchen drawer. We made do with forks and big spoons, and plenty of cream and butter I believe, and they ended up palatable. If only we could find these back home....


Shopping at "The Bowl" one afternoon last summer, I'm cruising the tuber section in produce and see something called an okinawan sweet potato. I look at it a little closer and see that the flesh looks like it has purple streaks in it. Ohhhhh, could it be........one of...........those.........hawaiian ones..........? I make my way toward the register to read a book I brought from home for entertainment while standing in line (or so I wish, about every-other time I'm in the place) and purchase somewhere near ten pounds of them. I get home and google it. I had found them. The very thing. I was so happy. I looked up a few recipes and found something entitled "Sweet Potato Cheesecake with Haupia Frosting " by anonymous locals. One look at the ingredients and you could tell they meant island locals. So, for thanksgiving last year we had this purple cheesecake for dessert.

Looking up the recipe again yielded this site:
http://www.e-hawaii.com/features/Christmas/recipes/sweetpotato.htm


Sadly, this year I have not seen the sweet little purple things. I've been back to the source, then another, but without luck. I should probably check chinatown, as I did last year and found them, but you see, most of the crop comes from Hawaii. This doesn't sound too bad right? Think about it a little harder and consider the requirement that the USDA has on irradiating them first, before shipping them the 2,500+ miles (at least) to your door. Purchasing them, should I even find them, is something I just can't do now, for either of those reasons, when there are just so many great locally grown sources of equally delicious tubers. So this year, our family has happily plugged away at eating our papas in the white, yellow and orange color scheme. And as it happens, this week found leftover baked garnet yams, sitting in the fridge, just waiting to be made into something else. Sister A was spending some time with us, so technically it was a holiday and all......so why not, let's do another colorful cheesecake!



Based on making the purple variety twice, adjusting for my own preferences, and of course altering the recipe into one more accommodating to my ingredients, it became something like this. So for a first time, I shall put something into an actual recipe form (of sorts), so here goes:




Garnet Ginger Grenadine Cheesecake (a work in progress)

1 cup chopped pecans (fine)
1 cup mashed graham crackers
1/2 cup buttery stick
2 tbsp chopped candied ginger

combine and pat into that fancy pan you have for such occasions and bake at 350 for ten or so minutes

1 and 3/4 cup mashed garnet yam (1 cup at least, or up to nearly 2 depending on consistency and size of eggs used)
3 jumbo eggs (use large sized if using only 1 cup potato, more like 4 large or 3 jumbo if using nearly 2 cups potato)
1 pound cream cheese
1 cup sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract (optional)
1/4 tsp freshly ground nutmeg

combine these together in a large bowl, preferably in a mixer to save your arms from breaking off. when finished, wrap your pre-baked and now cool pan with tinfoil (if using a springform pan) and pour this mixture in. place the pan into a large roasting pan that will hold it and lots of boiling water around it (should you consider a water bath, which I highly recommend) pour in boiling hot water (around the cheesecake pan please) and bake at 350 for 50-55 minutes. it should be hardly done (no more jiggle in the middle). carefully take the roasting pan out of the oven, making sure to not scald your arms off with sloshing HOT water. DO NOT POUR WATER OUT while cheesecake is still in the roasting pan. it will slide to one end and not being horizontal at this high of a temperature will destroy it. siphon off the hot water with a turkey baster or the like and then remove the cheesecake pan from the roasting pan. place on a cooling rack and leave for several hours on the counter until it is totally cool. mix up 1 cup of sour cream with a few tablespoons of grenadine. pour this over the cheesecake and smooth it out. place in the fridge to chill for a few hours before serving. when chilled, place pomegranate seeds on the top, hopefully in a pattern more thought out and interesting than the one above.


Oh how I love leftovers like these. Because when the weather outside is dreary and gray, I feel like wrapping myself up in a blanket and snuggling down with a nice piece of cheesecake. Besides, it's kinda funny to see the colors of Fall on a plate, and be reminded that this weather will pass (after a few more months of rain that is) as this season of colorful cheesecake comes to an end and ushers in a new year.

north oakland home scene of double cancercide

Tuesday morning, Oakland CA.
-Sourdoughpress Intl.-

The remains of at least two individuals were discovered today outside a home in North Oakland, victims of an apparent double cancercide. A grisley scene horrified area locals, challenging them to stay focused and go about their typical morning routine, in what they believed would be another great day in this quiet neighborhood. "I was just going out the door to work, when I noticed a peculiar smell," reported the neighbor closest to the scene, where the remains of the victims were found amongst the refuse of a local family, leading some to question the motives involved in the incident.

The victims are believed to be members of a Northern California gang from the other side of the "Gate" known by some as the Magisters, and are yet to be fully identified. Preliminary sources came up with a few leads including the nick-names "Left-E" and ironically enough "Din-ner." According to one Magister youth, he remembered "seeing them all the time, and then gone" from the typical hangout, at some point late last week. DNA analysis will confirm the identities of those who found themselves part of a horrendous chain of events carried out by an area local and suspected Sapien.

A rash of recent cancercide has hit this area of North Oakland, as it seems to each year as it draws to a close. As detective Hardcastle of the Oakland DFG pointed out this past October: "We're coming up on our toughest season for tensions between the Magisters and the Sapiens, partly because of longstanding, family taste." He went on to add "and if there is a glut when the coming season opens, watch out, things could really heat up for this ancient rivalry."

After the remains were discovered, detectives scanned the neighborhood, concentrating around a local "market," where it is believed the victims had spent their last few days prior to their cancernapping, around 11:15 Monday morning. Hard as it may be to believe, members of the Sapiens have a facility in this quiet neighborhood that reportedly houses captured Magister members before they disappear, the victims of demand for their flesh. A blog posted shortly after the news came out had a few things to add to the case. Anonymous sources reported: "We were just chillin' in the tank, where we all hang out. It was as typical a morning as you could imagine around here. Sure, a few of us had disappeared already, but there was no sense of panic or anything" as coming from an eyewitness at the scene of the cancernapping, who also wished to remain anonymous. "It happens all the time at this joint. It's what Hapuku is known for really." (Hapuku translates as: one-way to death, in the local magister dialect.) Another eyewitness added "If you end up here, after being hauled off the ocean bottom, and you already spent a night confined to a cage to make matters worse, it seems nice just hangin' with your pinchin' buddies, but the truth is, we all get taken away from the party soorner or later. I guess it was just their time."

Evidence at the "market" pointed toward a ghastly end for the individuals involved. The suspect was reported to have been with a smaller accomplice, both of them with audible gurgling sounds emanating from their stomachs when they nabbed the victims, making a getaway and leaving two crumpled green pieces of paper on the counter. Employees remembered the bearded fellow, who seemed nice enough, but kept looking down seemingly occupied with something under the counter. It is also reported that he smiled a little too big when he approached the "tank" where the victims were last seen. It is believed that the suspect handed a plastic bag containing the two victims to his younger accomplice (now undersotod to be a female around three years old), as her smaller stature would remain mostly hidden from view by the market's coolers, boxes and tanks.

For detectives on the scene, the remains in the trash outside the home were only the beginning. Upon first entering the home in question, everything appeared normal. But a quick glance inside of this urban refrigerator revealed evidence that could only point to murder. The victim's disarticulated legs were found amongst fresh parsley with lemon juice, olive oil, and garlic. The suspects had obviously tried to stop the spread of aromas that are associated with such carnage. It was a sight that could get a persons stomach going. Detectives combed the home and immediate environs for further clues to what went wrong for the gang members involved.

"Typically what we see in cases like these is a suspect (in this case a Sapien member) who appears normal to his neighbors and friends, but harbors a deep seated lust for the flesh of young individuals" reports Lieutenant Carapace with the Farallon chapter of the DFG (Department of Fish and Gastronomy). "They usually take their victims alive, back to their home, where a boiling pot of water awaits. The victims are usually dispatched quickly, as in some circles it is believed that this lends toward a fresher taste. Fact of the matter is: a gruesome death ensues. Gastronomic-minded plans often await the bodies, followed by a quick clean-up of the evidence. Often times, the only clue we have is a lingering smell of what some decribe as the sea." He made further note that if the evidence is not found within a week of the murder, that the bodies will have to be looked for elsewhere. "It seems that the murderers have an entrenched system of disposal that they readily use. Truthfully, less than three percent of such murders are ever reported, however 90 percent of that is from the evidence left outside the home and witnessed by neighbors olfactory senses" he lamented.

Thanks to modern forensics, evidence at the scene paints a detailed picture of just what happened to the victims after their murder. It appears that the family who rents the home is host to a repeat offender. This suspect may have worked in conjunction with the smaller individual, possibly an off-spring, but from clues left behind, he obviously was experienced at dispatching his victims and likely did the killing alone. Magister sources believe this case to be the work of a notorious serial killer and have dubbed him the "Merciless Monkey Wrangler" as he is always with a younger "monkey" (slang for little Sapien) and has been known to rip their fellows apart while still alive.

"One thing's for sure" said Carapace, "this guy cooked up the victims into several dishes. It is a learned behavior that some suspects employ to spread the evidence of the killing, rendering it harder to find as the days go by. I didn't need the artists recreation of the ensuing meal involved. I could tell by the smell, this guy was a regular quiche lover!"


Forensic scientists with experience in such cases believe that portions of the victims became a chilled bowl of remains in a simple vinaigrette, and yes a quiche, that included leeks, chevre and leg-meat from only one of the deceased, leaving a chilling detail yet to be answered. Another odd clue was that a bowl consisting of steamed carrots was likely involved, probably evidence of the "killer's guilty conscience screaming out that the meal could have been made without the deaths of the victims," reported an analyst working on the case for the Farallon DFG.

"If I had to sum this case up in one word, it would be pre-meditated" said Carapace. "I beg all of our kind, if you're out having a good time scavenging, and you run into a bunch of your pals loitering around a cage, don't join them. I repeat, don't join them, go the other way, search for a clam or something, I mean come on, use your claws for what they were designed; go tear something out of a shell! Please! Don't become another victim of a different species' food choices."

"I tell you what," Carapace was overheard saying as he left the scene of the murders "if this guy ever finds himself at the bottom of the ocean, in OUR neighborhood, well, let's just say that I couldn't guarantee his safety........if you know what I mean."

plain jane bread (or re-inventing the wheel)

Last Tuesday the monkey was in the throes of a nasty stomach virus. Poor thing. She yakked for quite awhile and it was early in the morning when she stopped. H slept with her that night, and I wondered what else I could do to help. I could feed the sourdough right? Yeah, bake a loaf of plain white bread for the delicate recovery into eating food, that always accompanies such experiences. And for Z, I know that she just loves bread, in just about any form, so at the very least, I could get some bread in her in the near future.

Wednesday morning H went to work and the monkey lay around. She was on the couch watching "Wonderpets" and was saying she was cold. "Wrap me like the burrito daddy, with the blanket." What was that honey? "I'm cold daddy. Wrap me up!" I commenced tucking the edges of the folded blanket around her. She enjoyed it enough to pull it off so that the process may be repeated. She wasn't really smiling though, so the sicko-meter was still reading at least half. Can I get you anything sweetie? "No." How about some orange? (citrus has been a big hit lately) "No, I'm not hungry"

I pulled out the starter, fed from the night before, and it was bubbly and happy. I gave it a thorough stirring and measured out about a cup into another bowl. I added 1+ cups of water and about 2 1/2 cups of bread flour. I mixed it quickly and left it to get all spongey.

See, believe it or not, I have read about doing sourdough as a sponge first, but have never attempted it myself. Well, actually this isn't totally true, I've done it for english muffins and it is quite tasty, but for just a big loaf or baguette, no. I have been playing with a sourdough starter now for 9 months, basically unsupervised, so my experiments, though based in the published world of sourdough technique, are really me re-inventing the wheel of dough and learning the hard way, by repetitive motion, how to produce a good bread. I am an apprentice, with only my senses as master.

The sponge did its thing for around five hours, until it was threatening to vacate the bowl it was in. I stirred in a few more cups of bread flour, a little over a teaspoon of salt, and tablespoon or more of a nice green-hued olive oil. After mixing by hand brought the dough together, I put it onto the board and got down to thumping, slapping, and twisting it into a fluffy white dough, appropriate for a plain jane loaf. All white flour, salt, water and oil.

Hey sweetie......."Yes dada?" Can I get you anything, maybe some applesauce or something? "No." You sure, maybe we could have a little chocolate afterwards? "No, It's okay, I'm not hungry right now." She is DEFINATELY still sick. Well, the bread will be awhile more anyway.

After the dough had risen once, I split it into two baguettes and a free-form loaf. Before going in the oven, the dough had at least doubled in size. This stuff was going to be very light. Only one thing, after turning on the oven, the power went out. First a small on/off flicker, then maybe 5 seconds of on. Hmmm. What was that abou?[DARK] We fished out our flashlights, lit a few candles, determined that the heater wouldn't work, or the hot water heater (what was in the tank hot, but cooling despite its protective insulation I'm sure). But the old gas stove, dating to a time when electricity was not standard in most homes works just fine when the power is out. It contains no technology that involves an electrical spark. In fact at this point in time, the now common sparking lighters on gas ranges were some 50 years out. In short, my oven worked fine.

I baked the baguettes first, as they rose faster. I was using a head lamp when judging during my first oven intervention. They were looking rather dark, I thought at the time, so I turned the oven down to about 375 for the last ten minutes. When these were removed, I placed them on a rack to cool by an open window for a draft. I was going to try these tonight, torturing myself until after they cooled completely so I could judge the moisture content as it would be in an intact loaf. At this point, the monkey had brushed her teeth, after eating the tiniest morsel of a dinner, and would have bread in the morning. I'm sure about it. About half an hour before the loaf went in the oven the power was restored. I looked at the baguettes and thought: "self, you could have left the heat up for longer on them, try it with the loaf okay?"

On Thursday morning, the monkey woke up in a pretty good mood, ready to try the bread from the night before. I'm not saying she horked down a ton of it. She was just starting to eat a little something. But toasted, with butter or raspberry jam (or both as she prefers sometimes) seemed like something worth trying to eat.

Since then, our whole family has experienced some form of this little stomach enemy of ours. And we have been living off of bread. You see, with the nice fluffy results from my first sourdough involving a sponge, I just had to make it again the next day, in a half whole wheat form. Turns out that works great too. And when you are not feeling like eating much, or need it to be nice and plain, then my vote is a plain jane loaf. White, or whole wheat will satisfy, although the whole wheat probably has a higher nutritive value, that maybe we should think about leaning toward after a few days of not eating much.

When this weekend came around, we were all looking forward to some fruits and veggies (and hoping for some fresh live crabs, but without luck). This morning the monkey and I wandered over tho the Farmers' Market and blew all the cash we had on us. I was looking at the individual booths, seeing the span of region that it reprsents, and had a smile of contentment. We had our goods, likely the bulk of the veggies for our week, and it came from areas that either have a special place in my heart (Northern reaches of the Sacramento Valley) or in my family (Fresno County) or in my blood (my Californio connections to the Central Coast). It is a priviledge and an honor to talk to the purveyors at our market, and support some more of our local* scene. We rode the bike back, unloaded the loot on the table and took a photo as a means of archiving what was available this first week of December



So do I title this picture "Still life with morning market bounty" or simply "37 bucks, Dec. 3rd, 2006, Temescal Farmers Market"........

P's backyard olive bread

This is a picture of happiness in my life. A few simple ingredients, worked by hand, involving only starter, flour, water, oil, olives and salt. (Or to look at it another way, only flour, water, olives and salt if you consider their sources and ignore the microscopic stuff that seems to come from the "ether" to inhabit our starter - but more on them later)

I think I have gone over some sort of hurdle when it comes to making bread. The tedium of kneading has changed, it is a joy to fold and squish away, nurturing a live mass with tough love until it becomes food. Don't get me wrong, when the monkey is at my leg, not able to give me 10 minutes alone with my dough, and I'm trying to finish it up quickly, it's not really fun or relaxing. That said, the process is now a sort of meditation (of course, that is if I enter the task aware and intentioned, and with cooperation from the three foot tall forces at hand).

It is a delight to gather ingredients, and contemplate where they came from and how they lived. I like to think about the olives growing on a sunny slope, within view of the majestic lady Pele in her Shasta form. How some of these were pressed for their oil while others relaxed in a brine, maybe with some herbs, after being tended by folks who care about them deeply. I like to think of the high plains that the wheat was grown on. Probably a hard winter kernal that makes this such a fine bread flour. Hard beacause you need to be tough in winter, to deal with taking more time to grow while the elements try to keep you down. I like to think of the salt evaporated from the sea, and the water that came down from the Sierras (actually bringing that salt into the ocean, as has happenned since the first days that water ran over rocks). I contemplate how a mixture of mold strains, constituting what some call "bloom" on the surface of grapes, can be used to create a live symbiotic mass, a balance of saccharromyces and lactobacillus in a wet flour medium, that tended just right and used often enables my family to enjoy a satiny-dough that is fluffy (thank you mold world) and tasty (love them bacteria).

Why backyard? Or even more suspiciously and specifically P? Well, I have mentioned in a past posting of a sourdough starter derived from grapes, grapes from a certain brother-in-law's golden ratio'd grape arbor. That is the same starter used here. It has acclimated well to its life in and out of my fridge. It has a spot on the second shelf, usually in a container labeled "P's Starter - Do Not Open!" (The uninitiated may well throw it out, for their good intentions of ridding the icebox of the stuff that may be a bit fragrant, and shall we say not too appetizing to look at.) After creating the dough from our elements seen above, and setting aside in an oiled bowl for a few hours, we have a notion of how alive and gaseous the creature is.


This represents the dough at maybe 80% of capacity, as this picture was taken during an interim, don't over-rise period.


After three rises the dough was put into an oiled ten-inch round cake pan. When it formed a nice dome above the rim of the pan I gave it a four slashes like slanted spokes, only reaching half way to the center of the sphere. This seemed to give the center a nice loft when baked at 425 for about 18 minutes, and then removed from the pan and left in the oven, now turned off, for another 10 minutes. Baking bread takes some paying attention and a little time, but the satisfaction granted to my mouth as I splurge on slice after slice is splendid.


Even the next morning, after half being consumed, it was springy and soft (okay it spent the night in a plastic bag).



After eating so much of the bread plain, or with generous portions of butter, it was time to mix it up a little and try it with something else. What better than to go back to the fruit source of the bread. I believe the folks over at Olio Olinda will agree that this is definately a nice way to enjoy bread, fresh or leftover, and a nice way to contemplate what we eat. From thoughts about the dependance upon the sun for our sustenance, and the water coursing down the rivers to nourish the olives and wheat, all the way to "should I really have had that 17th piece?"




May the dough (and a high-quality source of olive products) be with you.......

israeli couscous with carotenoids, betacyanins, and xanthophylls topped with anthocyanins

The monkey was mixing up a batch of fruit salad. "What do you want in your salad dada?" Her method involves tossing in ALL of the fruits and veggies that she has into a large bowl, and giving them a thorough mixing. When this is complete she fishes out your requested items, plus a few that she thinks will pair well with them, and carefully arranges them on a plate for you. I believe her last plating involved peach, orange, cabbage and cauliflower as a bed, supporting the bell pepper and corn 2nd floor. I was inspired to duplicate her range of colors into a dish that had alot of local* ingredients. It made me think of using our carrots, butternut, beet, and yellow bell pepper that was hanging around the kitchen from the last trip to the farmers market. We also had local* mushrooms, celery and onions that I figured would go well with everything else as long as I tied it all together with some ginger, and maybe drizzled it with grenadine.

So, I roasted some butternut, steamed some beets, sliced some carrots and bell peppers, chopped onions, celery, mushrooms, garlic and ginger, picked a few strawberries and little bit of mint, and measured out a few tablespoons of grenadine. A few cups of israeli couscous topped it off.



I sauteed the onions/celery/mush/gar/gin combo in olive oil and combined it with the couscous and some water in our largish green caserole thingy. To this I layered the sliced carrots on one side and bell pepper on the other and then piled on the butternut and beet. I topped this all of with the strawberries and a healthy pouring of the grenadine. I poked some mint sprigs in a few places and put it in the oven at 350 for over an hour.


And because this meal was all about the fresh, colorful, and somewhat local* produce, we steamed some cabbage (yet more anthocyanins) and carrots (carotenoids........duh?) to serve up with it. Those crazy beets stained the couscous a nice burgundy (those betacyanins are the ultimate in staining, they will even turn your urine pink if you eat enough, so I hear...) and that cabbage, WOW! (although in honesty the cabbage was not that color when I put it in the pot. It was no trick, just plain ol' purple cabbage, steamed until quite tender). In fact now when I look at it, I think that we needed some more yellow stuff (xanthophylls) to offset that shocking bluish purple. I mean, do you eat bluish veggies THAT often?

This meal really made me reflect on how dull and boring most of the typical American diet is. I guess as a stay at home dad, who cooks, loves veggies, and doesn't eat much meat (less than twice a week lately, and that usually fish), I'm not exactly typical. I like that.


* Local for purposes here being produced in California, within about a three hour drive (say 150 mile radius from home) and purchased by us at the closest Farmer's Market or at our one of our neighborhood stores (all walking or biking distance). The onions, celery, garlic, bell pepper, carrots and beets are all organic and from the Farmer's Market. The grenadine was from Reedley pomegranates, juiced by hand with a ricer and then boiled with a cup of organic sugar (Whole Foods). The butternut was also from Reedley. The ginger is admittedly from Brazil (Berkeley Bowl), and is a leftover from my last attempt at making candied ginger. The mushrooms and couscous are from Whole Foods, the mushrooms produced locally (Monterey County), the couscous from unknown sources (I didn't pay much attention to the bin it came from as this too was a leftover ingredient from a past dish, I do believe it was organic). The olive oil (Greece, Kalamata actually) and the salt (France) were from the mediterranean by way of Trader Joe's. We had a locally produced olive oil that could have been used, but I can't yet justify using the $15 bottle of dipping/dressing oil for frying in a pan. I will look into getting a "cooking" oil from the local folks. The little strawberries and fresh mint are from our yard. You could say that this dish was a result inspired by the monkey's color scheme, local ingredients, what was in the cupboard, some oil-economics (olive), and the food we pass everyday going in and out of our door.

Putting it all down in this form and documenting where the meal came from goes out to my sister-in-law Sheryl. For being one of those folks who are brave enough to look at where your food REALLY comes from (and who having made it through the corn chapters in the Omnivore's Dilemna, now probably doesn't see that big grass the same anymore). Let me know when you get your hands on one of them Polyface chickens.

various breads from the past month

Can you say Death Valley? There is nothing like a fresh bread in the morning, especially when the backdrop is like this. This was looking East/Northeast from our camp at the southern end of Hidden Valley in mid October. The day before I made up a pizza dough and we went on a gnarly hike, returning a little too spent to have too much for dinner. The dough became a pizza the night before, and morning rolls the next. They were white and fluffy on the interior with a nice matured sour that blended well with the grated parmesan in the dough. Considering that we were about forty miles from any paved road, they were pretty damn good if I say so myself. In fact, a bit of starter has now made it on about half dozen camping trips and is becoming a nice way to bring some "home" out doors. My friend's mom would call it my zinger.





Whole wheat with soy flour based on sourdough. This became a plain baguette and a little something called sharkie bread (the San Jose Sharks need a new mascot, what better way to blend our food with sports?) It had a light coating of seeds and a few slashes to augment the overall shape. Too bad it didn't make it long enough to be intact for the photo shoot.

I had just pulled the various breads from the oven and I spotted her. Fae Fae the lover of meatballs. She is a kenyan bread hound and is therefore seldom from sight of the kitchen. She can be seen with a few experiments based on a whole wheat with rye flour dough, sourdough of course. The S-shaped loaf is a contorted baguette roll that is stuffed with a celery-onion-mushroom and blue cheese mixture. The calzone is the same mix, minus the cheese, with some meatball pieces and a touch of red sauce. And then there is the pizza. It had the above mix, plus the cheese and meatball. All of it turned out nice, but I think I liked the calzone the best.



The last two days were filled with bread so I couldn't decide which to have the next morning. So I toasted a piece of the onion-celery-mushroom with blue stuffed baguette and then slathered it with butter, and toasted a piece of the plain baguette and put rasberry jam on top. The blue cheese contrasting with alternate bites of rasberry was like doing culinary calisthetics from sweet to savory and back again only to be repeated several more times.




After several days of sourdough I was hankerin' for something else in the bread department. So I worked on it by deciding corn bread would do the trick. I went out and purchased some organic blue corn meal to go with the eggs from the farmers market and straus milk in the fridge. I just HAD to double the recipe, so it became a round dished loaf and some muffins. With melted butter it hit the spot. And just because that last one was a bit crooked, I thought I should end with another, but make it from DV for some kind of symmetry to this one......

pumpkin moon fun (blasphemous, please be warned)

I have been wanting to feature a guest for some baking fun and the other night complied with my wishes. This guest has been invited several times but has a very tight schedule so he did this one on a fill-in from a previous cancellation. You may know him from his other work as a carpenter, but some of the information lost with unknown gnostic texts revealed him to be a baker, with how do we say, that "special touch." Considering leavening agents are a more modern invention, it is my theory that the J-man must have been a sourdough master, so when he agreed to drop by for a guest appearance on such short notice, I was floored. I thought "holy s___! the big heavy himself!" The timing was a little weird, being Halloween and all, but also being El dia de los muertos, it seemed perfect. So I cleaned up the kitchen and tried to look like I've had it together lately, and fed our grape starter in anticipation of his preferences (rumor has it that JC actually prefers his sourdough on the sweet side, go figure).


When he arrived (a touch late, he complained that the URW coalition {ultra-right-wing angels} had recently passed legislation that cut into the saviors promptness, despite being designed to do precisely the opposite), he gave us his trademark greeting and we soon got down to work. Flour, starter, water, oil, salt. He likes it simple, and employed a gentle kneading technique (involving throat singing) that he admittedly picked up from some zen buddhists on his last trip to the bay area. I thought it was pretty cool that even he sees room for improvement, and that in the working with the dough of life, he is willing to learn from other master bakers. It only makes sense. Mankind was making bread long before there were ANY saviors or the like.

After 20 minutes of kneading (no toddlers at home, so J-man is used to taking his time), we put the dough in the oven to rise once, and then shaped them into baguettes. I asked his opinion on fennel versus anise as a topping and he said something like "split the dough and I am there" which indicated to me that our selection of spice in life is special for its similarity, not its differences, which to me also implied that if the meal in question is savory then you usually go with fennel, sweet........definately anise. This settled, we painted the loaves with melted soy garden and seeded one of the baguettes with sesame, fennel and celery seeds.

I slashed the loaves when we went to put them in the oven, closed the door and heard a strange buzzing come from somewhere inside his tunic (which seemed synthetic when I was close to him; do today's use of animal products disgust him? Is he vegan, right down to his clothing, I thought at the time) He put his elbow up to his mouth and mumbled something that sounded like "thanks Cynthia, I'll get right on it" then turned to me and said he had something important to go attend to. "What about baking our bread, our shared dough of life," I whined. He made for the door, flashed his departure greeting and was gone.


I was honored to have the sourdough tutorial, however brief it was. I turned for the oven door and saw something strange, or didn't see something that is. The oven was empty, save for a 425 degree baguette pan, one side lightly sprinkled with seeds. I was pissed. All that work, and all I get is a few lousy pictures of him coming and going. No warm, fresh bread and the intoxicating aromas that come with the baking. Wait, something was different when he left, besides his hair being pulled up from the work in the kitchen............I have the technology, let's investigate.


There they were. Baked (now how did he do THAT?) Looking great I might add, with a nice color and shape. I felt a smile break across my face as I thought about whoever was now enjoying them, probably under the impression that HE, not I actually had performed most of the labor involved in their creation. I laughed as we went trick or treating as planned, and scored plenty of nasty corn-syrup filled candy, that seems to be the norm for today.


When I awoke on Wednesday morning and went down to the kitchen, it looked like someone had been there. I looked at the bread board in front of our toaster in response to the lingering burnt smell. A morning-after note from the man himself, how pathetic. Have a good x-mas, cheee-yaw..........I BETTER, after that stunt he pulled last night. Now, what to do with this loaf?

Smoke some salmon, get a good cream cheese, and get on with it. Like granny always said: when life (read JESUS) gives you lemons, you can choose to make lemonade, or you can mope.



Or in this case, you can brew some coffee to go with that fish and cream cheese, and get to constructing yourself a killer breakfast to go with that loaf, brought to you by our lord, of sorts.......

navarathna korma with a side of alter-ego

In my dream our mortar and pestle was grinding away without me. It didn't need me to define it. It knew what its purpose was in life, so it merely performed it. It was calling out for a garam masala. It wanted hot and sweet and I had a recipe in mind......we have had Reedley produce still lying around so I got to work on a butternut and a few eggplant, and added tomatoes from our garden. Also a sweet potato that needed cooking. These were roasted on a pan in the oven at 400 for about an hour while I ground 1Tcardamom seeds, 1T black peppercorns, 3 sticks of cinnamon, 1t coriander, and 1t fennel. To this I added 1t ground cloves and called it good.
With the garam masala ready for takeoff I needed to work on some veggies to saute. Two huge onions were chopped, about 10 mushrooms, plus an inch or two of fresh ginger and cooked in olive oil. I added 1/2t chili powder and about 1/2 of my masala and stirred well. Next came a large can of diced tomatoes and some lentils I had boiled earlier. When the roasting veggies were done, they too were added, plus some diced carrots and frozen peas. Then a top for the pan was found and this concoction was put on the back burner for a while. I served this with pita and sticky white sushi rice, of all things, cause I was in the mood. It was very satisfyingly spiced and I derived great pleasure from the garam masala in particular.



The next day my cousin Rohan dropped by. Upon hearing of the leftover spices and veggie korma as well as the lingering butternuts, he suggested that we make some of his authentic Indian calzones......huh? Yeah, Cousin Rohan! Give him a beer and he can make anything!
We made up a half whole wheat sourdough and let it rise once before shaping into calzones. The filling consisted of roasted butternut combined with mushrooms, onions, garam masala, cumin and mustard seed, and a can of coconut milk. This was all cooked together for a while and then the sauce was reduced slightly, leaving what you see here. It ended up being enough for 4 huge calzones, which is good because Rohan is a big kid who can really pack em' down, especially after working up an appetite kneading dough.



After baking them for near half an hour at 400 degrees, we pulled out the leftovers and got to plating up. Rohan poured the stout and procured the chocolate dipped, candied ginger cashew biscotti, while I heated the korma and chose two of the pretty calzones to eat. We discussed the latest book he's been reading, once again drifting toward the merits of vegan eating, and how our geography no longer dictates our eating habits (as it once righftully did, in the not too distant past). We talked how this may be a boon for veggie-headed lovers that comes with sometimes conflicting problems of transport that can seem to negate the good you are trying to propagate by going organic with your selections........we thought these things until we realized that the beer was from a town kinda close. This made us feel so good about supporting our local brewers that we finished it off, reasoning that the need for more would contribute to the local self-sustaining market right here in the bay area.

Fae Fae loves the baguettes, Dada

I had told the monkey that we would be mixing up some sourdough this morning, and that we would bring the dough and baguette pan with us to Grandmas. "Oh yeah, Fae Fae loves the baguettes Dada!" I've been wanting to work on shaping and slashing techniques and figured I could bake 'em at mom's and leave one there since free, fresh baked bread is usually appreciated when left at other homes. When we started mixing up the ingredients the monkey requested that we have Fae Fae up on the board to supervise (I think she wanted her to help and this was my compromise.)


We went with a pretty standard ingredient list: starter, flour, water, oil and salt, and gave it the typical kneading and beating treatment. The monkey is becoming quite adept at folding over the dough and beating it down with both hands saying (loudly) "smack, smack, smack." When our supervisor approved the work, we put it in an oiled ceramic casserole dish and transported it to Grandma's house. There we let it rise, punched it down, stretched it into rectangles of a sort on a floured board, and jelly-rolled it into two baguettes, placing them onto our pan. When they had risen sufficiently, we painted melted smart balance on it and sprinkled them with poppy, sesame and fennel seeds. Just before placing in the oven (425 for 15 minutes) they were slashed with a lame, one with three, one with four slices, to narrow in on cooking differences and presentation options.



I think I prefer the four slashes, it looks a tad more professional, but the three slash method allowed for a little greater loft in the loaf near the cuts. When they came out of the oven, they both looked great, and we were all salivating and couldn't wait for them to cool a touch before cutting them. Grandma said "I'm running to the store to get some cream cheese to go with that bread and the leftover smoked trout (one of the undocumented experiments from the previous week) in the fridge." Now that, I can wait for.



We sliced into it, revealing a fluffy interior with plenty of bubbles arranged in a slight spiral. Perfect. Grandma constructed open face sandwiches and we noshed on them until stuffed. Mmmmmm. Almond smoked trout on a fresh baguette with a healthy smear of cream cheese. One word: heaven.



And yes, Fae Fae approved of the meal, even getting a crumb or two on her snout.

a list of recent vegan experiments

OK. So I'm off to start a trip to DV in the early morning, but there has been alot of experimenting going on at my house lately that has not been documented by any pictures due to the nature of the experiments and the lack of planning. Some have been worthy of further trials, others have been tasty, but would take enough tweaking to warrant calling it another creation. So with that said, here goes with a menu of sorts.....

Wednesday September 27th - dinner with Tito, Tita and Ading
Entree: Enchiladas en mole negro, with smoked tofu, sauteed onions, mushrooms and sweet potato
Salad: Chayote, black bean, corn and tomato, tossed with a canola, cilantro and lime dressing with s&p to taste.
Soup: Veggie stock of the month, with added onion, celery, carrot and corn. Served blended and in mugs for drinking.

Thurday the 28th - H's cupboard surprise
"Grilled" tofu marinated in a house made peanut sauce
Asian cucumber salad tossed with rice vinegar and toasted sesame seeds
New Potatoes (red) boiled and served with s&p and spread
Steamed zucchini and carrots

Friday the 29th - a day of dough
Use recently created whole wheat sourdough starter with bread flour to make medium loaf and Scarborough Fair Focaccia
Use white sourdough starter to make big round dome (all bread flour) and and herbed pizza dough with all purpose, whole wheat and corn meal, with similar herbs from focaccia, topped with basil/pine nut/oil/garlic pesto, tomatoes, mushrooms, carmelized onions, thinly sliced potato leftovers, and vegan cheese

Saturday the 30th - a day of work
Bring focaccia, big round dome and medium loaf to P's place to see family and do yardwork. While there trimming back the grape arbor, we "procure" some 3+ pounds of Interlocken grapes that will become the base of yet another sourdough starter. Getting home late, we dine at Cactus Taqueria, a Rockridge institution

Sunday October 1st - a farmer's market morning with the monkey
Organic garlic, multi-colored onions, butternut squash, red leaf lettuce and honey pluots.
Conventional Brentwood corn, baby summer squash, squash blossoms, and fresh ono
Inspired by Orangette's recipe (see her blog - orangette.blogspot.com) I use the blossoms for a sauce made with carrot, onion, celery and veggie stock plus a touch of almond milk and serve it with sprouted wheat papardelle.
Red leaf becomes salad with blossoms, carrots, tomatos, avocados, figs and grapes

Monday the 2nd - hankerin' for frijoles
Black and pinto beans, boiled and soaked, then cooked in veggie stock with carrot, onion, and small red pepper with freshly ground coriander and cumin
Wild and brown rice with sauteed mushrooms and carmelized onions cooked in veggie stock
Corn on the cob

At this point the days became experiments with sourdough. Now three different kinds live in the fridge....more later, early next week (maybe after some desert backcountry baking)

mole'chiladas, 3-beans and a sweet thing (friday night's menu)

Man, I love chocolate. On my trip into the Sierras, I ate it everyday, as I am sure many other backpackers do. It is certainly a time when you can justify the calories. Chocolate is a good way to have a high-calorie per unit weight food (not the best, but palatability can be a huge factor in the back-country,) it is good for fiber (that is, if you like it dark, less sweet, and in quantity) and needs no preparation (in bar form.) This photo, upon review of my trip, was taken on the first night that I didn't eat chocolate for dinner. The previous two nights were too cold to justify spending time cooking much of anything. When the wind calmed for a day, and I feasted on that gorgeous Sierra afternoon and evening (see previous post) I was full when it came time for dessert. I may have skipped eating chocolate that night, but I thought about it. I thought mortar and pestle. I thought mole. This sat in the rock-like vessel of my head, and was ground around for a few days until my first real opportunity to cook something that would take much more than an hour. With a guest from the past having dinner with us, I had occasion to make what had been mashed. Dark chocolate ancho mole.

I knew what I wanted in it, but the proportions were lacking. I began my search for a new recipe by consulting recipelink and decided that as usual, recipes are really just outlines. The resulting concoction is something I am quite proud of.

I began with 2 ounces of dried ancho chili peppers that I seeded and stemmed and put in warm water to soak for about an hour. While this was happening I ground 1/2t coriander and 1/4t cinnamon stick in the mortar. To this I added 1T sesame seeds and almost 1/2c blanched slivered almonds. When this was a nice consistent paste I added 1/4t ground clove and then began adding the chili peppers after mincing them in batches. Upon pastiness being reached I added 2 large cloves of minced garlic and about 2T powdered chocolate. This looked nice, but needed the dried fruit component (raisens?) The monkey suggested that we go out in the yard and pick some blackberries and I thought, "what a great idea!" so we went out in the yard and harvested some blackberries and strawberries (they are on the way to the blackberries.) About 1/4c of mixed berries made it in the mole and I continued to pound, pound, pound, grind, grind, grind. In went 1/2 a yellow onion (chopped) and then yet more grinding and pounding. At this point there was too much in the mortar to contain, so I opted to start sauteeing the paste in a few tablespoons of olive oil, figuring that the onion would break down just fine. Over a medium heat, I heated the chocolatey paste for about 15 minutes and then added about 1c veggie stock and began simmering. This continued for about an hour, with frequent additions of 1/4 - 1/2 cup of stock to keep it from becoming too thick. In the end, it was a thick dark paste, begging to become enchilada sauce.

As this was cooking I boiled some water and added 1c israeli couscous. After ten minutes I drained it and gave it a qiuck rinse and then added some canola oil to it while I began chopping 2 nectarines and 1/2c toasted and salted almonds. I added these to the couscous with the juice of 1 lime and a good 1/2t of "oh Peggy Hill, this need nutmeg!." The result was nice, but not as sweet as I was envisioning so I added some agave nectar to taste. Hmmmm, still not right. I look down at the monkey as she grabs a dried fig from the counter and once again I am inspired. In goes about 8 fried figs, all chopped up, and now it is just right. All together, it was sweet and nutty, and kinda like a dessert pasta salad, if you can picture such a thing.

I'd also been jonesing for a 3 bean salad, and Barbara had bestowed upon me a ton of fresh herbs during my last visit so I was primed for an herby, oil and lemon coated salad. I used 1 can each of organic garbanzos, white kidneys (cannellini) and pintos. To these I added from the garden 4 small diced tomatoes, 1 largish zucchini (julienned for a short noodle-like effect,) 1/2 cup thinly disced baby carrots, 1/4 cup chopped basil, 1T oregano, 1t rosemary, and 1T of fresh thyme and 1/4c parsley from Barbara. For the dressing I used 1/4c of the mildest olive oil we have and the juice of 1 lemon, plus salt and pepper to taste.

With the salads complete, I sliced 1/2lb of crimini mushrooms and a large onion and began sauteeing them in some olive oil. Shortly after, I crumbled in a block of tofu (quickly sliced and hand pressed.) After the onion and tofu were getting golden yellow, I removed the mixture from the pan and added veggie stock (2c maybe) to de-glaze. I then added about 1c of the mole and stirred it in. The resulting sauce was intoxicating. I soaked 3 tortillas (blue corn) at a time in the sauce and commenced enchilada construction. Along with the sauteed mush/onion/tofu combo I added grated vegan spicey cheddar. With 6 enchiladas in a small square pan, I doused it with the remaining sauce, a touch of the cheddar, and baked it covered with foil at 350 for about 30 minutes.


The baked mole'chiladas completely satified the chocolatl yearnings. The bean salad was tangy and herby, while the couscous was sweet and nutty. Together, they tested many parts of the palatte, and to me, seemed to please them all. It was a foray into some new territory, that resulted in "Ohh, that's good" from a few at the table (see ya soon M.)

fine dining at 11,162 feet (approximately)

Sorry for not posting anything in the last few weeks, but I've been busy planning a trip into the Sierras to see big mountains and wildflowers like these, and do some fishing. Of course, I planned on bringing some sourdough starter, so I also had to do some experimental baking before taking off for the high country.


Pictured here is my "backpacker's oven" in the fancy granite kitchen of camp (without the fiberglass and asbestos cover, as my experiments at home didn't warrant the use of it.) Under the pan, hidden by the windscreen is a pepsi-can alcohol stove, fashioned at home before the trip. Nothing too fancy, but an art nonetheless in getting the results you want. As the finest cooks will tell you, practice, practice, practice.


I hiked out of the North Lake trailhead (near Bishop) with the intention of going up over Piute pass and into Humphreys basin with a destination of Desolation lake. Being as though the average elevation of the basin is about 11,000 feet, I knew it was going to be cold and I would want to cook some hearty food to nosh on (when the weather would cooperate that is.) I had been told that the fishing was great in the area, so naturally some fresh trout would be on the menu.

Talking to other backpackers on their way down, I heard reports that Tomahawk lake had plenty of brookies and a few goldens. Considering the weather, I aimed away from the barren realm of Desolation and found a place to hunker down at Tomahawk. That afternoon, I tried fishing, but my line was freezing up as it came out of the water and was forming icicles on the first eyelet of the pole. Not exactly fun fishing weather. I made some tea, ate a Lara bar and chocolate for dinner and decided to try my luck tomorrow.

The next morning after some hearty oatmeal and STRONG coffee, I got to fishin'. I let the first three go, and then after an hour or so of no luck, I vowed to keep the next one I caught. Luckily I hooked up with a nearly 14 incher. Before the fish became lunch it looked like this:



After being beheaded and cleaned, rubbed with chili, onion and garlic powder, as well as salt and pepper, and fried up in a pan, it looked something like this (I had already eaten the tail section before snapping the photo, so the fish did actually fill up more of the pan.)







Mmmmm........blackened brook trout. Now that IS tasty. So, that was lunch, what about dinner?









I had fed the starter I brought with me on the previous day, but the cold temperatures and hellacious wind had frozen it near solid during the night (ambient air temp was in the mid 20's when I got into the tent at 6:30 pm, with the windchill factored in, it was single digits!) After the delectable lunch, when things were nice and warm (we're talkin' 11,000 feet remember, so this means 60's) I kneaded some dough and placed it inside the tent on the black nylon of my sleeping bag to rise, with the door flap open and a shaft of sunlight striking the pan directly. This blocked what tiny breeze there was, and proved to be the warmest place around, so after a few hours my dough had risen at least 50% and was ready for some toppings.



That's half whole wheat dough with italian seasoning, as well as onion and garlic powder mixed in. One bag contained grated gruyere and parmesan (done with the world's smallest grater,) and the other pine nuts. The plastic cup holds a mix of reconstituted sundried tomatoes and wild mushrooms.










Baked, it was most excellent. In fact considering the view, and my appetite, it was one of the finest pizzas I have ever had.


It was such a nice day in the Sierra, I held up a slice, and toasted to the Glacier Divide to the South (that's Muriel Peak and Mt. Goethe for those who care,) vowing to recreate this pizza for whoever is brave enough (or is that CRAZY enough) to come on my next fine dining trip above timberline.




Thank you mountain gods, for allowing me to experience one of the nicest days of this fall in our heavenly Sierras.......

conchas ahumadas de tia

This was the scenario for most of yesterday afternoon, opening the lid to have this fine view. I'm convinced that long-time smokin' masters actually develop "smoke eyes," and have the ability to discern what the food looks like through smokey haze.





Todays wood is almond (once again from the family farm.) It burns nicely and lends a sweet smoke flavor. When it clears a bit and I can see, it looks like some of the regulars are there: salmon, ahi, pork ribs, and whats this......scallops?

Aren't those supposed to be cooked fast, and barely?



During the last smoke session, Aunty came up with an idea. "Hey D, what do you think about smoking some scallops?" Uhh......I don't think I've ever heard of that one, maybe its for a reason. "Yeah, like some of the big ones, so they don't fall through the grate, or dry out in 5 minutes. I think they'd work just fine, maybe brined like the last fish you made.....the sweetness of the scallop would go nicely with the smoke." It was a fine point. "Maybe I'll buy some at TJ's and we can try it the next time you fire up the smoker." So, with friends coming over this weekend, I had occasion to fire it up. I talked to Aunty and she gave me a bag of enormous frozen scallops. I put them in a brine made with water, salt, sugar, soy sauce, ginger, shallot and garlic. The same brine was used for the fish. The ribs were done with a "special" new rub consisting of brown sugar, salt, fresh ground cumin, coriander and pepper, paprika and cinnamon. All of the respective meats were then put in the fridge overnight.

The ribs were yummy, the salmon and ahi damn fine, and the scallops........well they tasted great, but the consistency was a bit strange while they were still warm (maybe thats why I hadn't heard of them before.) We let them rest, put them in the fridge and tried them later. Much better cold. In the future, I think I'd slice them finely, and garnish something with them or julienne them and make it an ingredient in a cold salad.









Or leave them whole and just eat them, cause they sure were pretty.