Don't That Beet All

So, I have a confession to make that might annoy some of you.  I'm going to whisper it in the hopes that you'll hear me out.

I hate beets.

As in, I really loathe the things.  I'm pretty open-minded when it comes to fruits and vegetables; I've even trained myself to like Brussels sprouts.  But, let's be real here, blog world.  Beets taste like dirt.  And no one likes to eat dirt.  Not to mention, they stain everything, they have no pleasing aroma, and I can cook a myriad of other vegetables in far less time.  What's to like?  Seriously.

However, in the spirit of embarking on adventures in my life, I gave them another shot; after all, there was the Brussels sprouts turnaround.  I scoured a multitude of resources trying to find the one recipe that would alter the course of my beet history; eventually I landed on the one I'm going to present below.  Yes, it involved roasting the beets, which seemed rather time intensive, but then all I had to do was throw them in a salad, and that seemed easy enough.  Maybe this could work out after all...

Roasted Beet and Goat Cheese Salad

First, I roasted a pound of beets in the oven.  I double-wrapped the (well-cleaned) beets in foil, sprinkled them with salt, added some fresh thyme, and roasted them at 425°F for a little over an hour.  If you're using smaller beets than I did, you may get away with 45 minutes or so, but mine were larger and needed the extra time.

This foil party had sick beets.

While the beets were roasting, I toasted some walnuts in a cast iron skillet over medium heat for a few minutes until they were fragrant.

Posting a picture of something this easy seems nuts.

I then tossed some mixed greens in a glass bowl and began work on my vinaigrette.  It's a pretty basic recipe.  I started with 1/4 c. white wine vinegar, added .5 tsp. of the Vermont Maple mustard I'm so fond of (although Dijon would work fine), as well as .5 tsp. salt, and the zest and juice of half an orange.  Mix these well, then whisk the ingredients together while streaming in half a cup of olive oil.  Voila, vinaigrette.

Bowl of lettuce.  (Now this is art, people.)

Zesty.

Once the beets were done roasting (a knife will slide all the way through them easily when they're ready), I opened the foil packet, drained off the liquid, and let them cool slightly before trying to peel away the skins.  When they're still warm, this is pretty easy to do, although they didn't peel off effortlessly like the Internet makes it sound they will.  I did have to use a paring knife to clean them up a bit afterward.  Once they were peeled, I sliced them thinly into rounds, into then halved the rounds to make crescent moon shaped beet slices.  Then, I cut up an apple similarly to give the salad some brightness.

Roasted beets.

 

Sliced apple.

At this point, it was just a matter of dumping everything over the lettuce, giving it a good toss, and crumbling some goat cheese on top.  Easy enough.

Salad before the cheese.

 

Salad with the cheese.

So, the real question is, did this make me like beets?  

Nope.  Not at all.  Not even a little.

I didn't pick them out, mind you, but they still tasted vaguely like dirt, and goat cheese is truly enough earthiness for me.  So, now I'm throwing it out to all of you.  Make me like beets.  Truly, I want to.  Comment, leave me a recipe, tell me what I'm doing wrong.  I'm open to ideas.

-John

Baking Science: Bake a Better Biscuit

I think a lot of people fear baking because they've heard it's a science, and they feel like if they make small mistakes the product won't turn out okay.  And there's not much avoiding the truthfulness in that statement.  Baking is a science:  creating the perfect texture, fostering a suitable rise, and developing complex flavor are all dependent on key scientific factors such as temperature, moisture control, and so on.  Still, this doesn't have to be scary.  Understanding some basic science gives you power--power to fix your baking mistakes and power to avoid them in the first place.  So, today, we're going to tackle a ubiquitous southern breakfast food.  Let's bake a better biscuit, ya'll.

Okay, so the basics first.  Flours have different levels of protein.  This protein, when combined with liquid and a little elbow grease, is what creates gluten.  Gluten provides structure which translates into a tougher/chewier mouthfeel--great for artisan breads and bagels, less so for biscuits and cakes.  So, making a good biscuit that isn't tough means minimizing gluten and allowing the gluten that does develop a nice spa relaxation period prior to baking.  Also, it means that we need to start a good biscuit recipe with an appropriate flour.  If you wonder why so many cooks in the south swear by White Lily (or Martha White), the reason is scientific (though I doubt they all know it).  It has a good % or two less protein than a normal all-purpose flour.   This creates less gluten, thus a softer texture, thus a better taste.   So, now you're checking your pantry and you don't have White Lily or Martha White.  Have no fear.  Many people circumvent the necessity of particular brands by combining two different types of flours: all purpose and cake flour.  Cake flour is essentially flour that has been processed (usually bleached) to have a lower protein content (even lower than White Lily).  So, using halfsies of both creates a homemade White Lily protein content.   Now, using the knowledge above, you can tweak your flour combo's protein content to get the cakeiness, or flakiness, or hockeypuckosity that you desire. 

Speaking of flakiness, I should probably address that next.  Flakiness in baked goods is created by chunks of fat that separate dough into layers.  This fat will melt and tenderize the baked good, but it will also allow the layers to solidify separately as they bake.   If you're wondering why shortening (or lard) is so often called for in biscuit recipes (and pie doughs), it's because it has a higher melting point than butter; this prevents it from melting as easily as you work with it and while the product bakes.  The longer the fat remains solid, the more time the layers have to solidify.  If you want a really flaky biscuit, there's really no beating shortening or lard.  However, that's not to say you can't get a flaky biscuit without it.   My recipe uses just butter, and it is perfectly flaky--it just requires a little extra work.

Lastly, before I drop my normal recipe, I should add that buttermilk is key.  It adds flavor, it tenderizes the dough, and it helps leaven the final product.  I swear by Cruze Farm buttermilk, and you should, too.  Usually, I allow for lots of substitutions in my recipes, but this is one ingredient I truly believe necessary.

All that for a biscuit recipe. Hmm.

Biscuits ala Sides

This makes 5 -large- biscuits, which is how I prefer them. If you're making smaller ones, then you can expect more, obviously.

Dry Ingredients

1 cup AP flour and 1 cup cake flour
(Remember that if you have Martha White or White Lily flour that you can ignore this mixing.)
1.8 Tbsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
7 Tbsp. butter

Sift the flours well in a bowl.  Then top with 7 Tbsp. of cold butter.   It even helps to freeze it for a little bit beforehand.  Cold butter means less chance of it melting before it gets into your product.   If it melts, it won't affect the flavor, but it will prevent a flaky biscuit with proper rise.  You will then cut in the butter.  I love baking by hand, but I have warm hands, and that's just an utter fail for this kind of thing, so I use a pastry cutter (whoa, run-on).  If you have cooler hands and work quickly, feel free to rub it in by hand (or, if you're using shortening) or use two knives like your grandmother taught you.  Almost every recipe I've ever seen calls for the butter to be cut into pea-size pieces.   One of the best pieces of advice I ever received was to stop a little sooner--chickpea sized pieces.  Undoubtedly the butter will be worked into the dough a little bit as you bring it together, flatten it out to chill, cut the biscuits, etc.  This gives you a little extra flakiness insurance.  I recommend the same thing for pie dough, by the way.

Wet Ingredients

2/3 cup buttermilk (Cruze Farm if you're from around these parts)
1 egg yolk
2 Tbsp. sugar

Combine these ingredients well with a whisk, then make a well in the center of your dry ingredients.   Pour the wet ingredients into the center and then use a rubber spatula or wooden spoon to slowly incorporate the dry into the wet.  Do not overmix.  Remember that some small streaks of flour will work themselves out as you bring the dough together.  Pull the dough together into a ball, and then flatten it out a bit.   Toss it onto an oil-sprayed piece of plastic wrap, wrap it up, and put it in the refrigerator.   Chilling the dough does a couple of things.   1) The butter will firm up and chill again--necessary for flakiness.  2) Any gluten developed will relax some.  This prevents dough from shrinking and/or becoming too tough.  It will need to chill at least 30 min., though overnight is even better (but who can really wait that long for a biscuit?).  Once the dough is chilled, roll it out and cut out your biscuits.  Two pieces of advice:  1) Make sure your biscuit cutter is well floured.  2) Don't twist the cutter as your cut out the biscuits.   Press straight down, pull straight up, then pick the biscuit up and put it on the baking sheet.  If you want some extra insurance, you can actually chill the biscuits again once they're cut; I don't usually bother.

Now, some recipes call for an egg wash on the top of the biscuits.  This can provide a little color, a little flavor, and a sheen.  If you want the sheen without the color, just use egg whites.  If you want a little extra color, add a bit of milk which will contribute to Maillard browning.  If you want the browning without the egg flavor, then just use milk or cream.   Also, over-washing a biscuit is a quick way to over-crustiness (new word?).

Also, how you place the biscuits to bake is important.  You'll get a little extra vertical lift if you place them side by side, since they'll push against each others' sides creating rise.  These biscuits will have a less crusty exterior, however, since not all sides are exposed to heat.  This is how my grandmother made her biscuits--in a cast iron skillet.   Be extra careful if you try cast iron because it will brown the bottom of the biscuits quickly.   If you place the biscuits separately like cookies on a sheet pan, you'll get a more browned / crunchy exterior.

Regardless of what you choose, you'll bake these at 400 degrees until GBD (golden-brown-delicious).   I think I usually check mine after 12 min. or so.  Kind of like brownies or cookies, you'll want to pull them out when the inside is still a bit soft because there will be carry-over cooking once they're out of the oven.

If you're interested in baking science, I recommend How Baking Works by Paula Figoni.  If you're not, then this incredibly thorough blog was probably pointless to you.

Happy biscuit baking, folks.

-John

It Fig-ures

So, we probably all thought that at some point I'd forget to keep posting to the blog, but props to all of you who thought it would happen sooner rather than later because you were right.  But tonight (Eureka!), I remembered that I had multiple things I needed to post; in fact, Anne and I both do.  While we were away, we took our first culinary excursion together to a little place called Lynchburg, TN, toured the Jack Daniels distillery, and ate at the delicious Miss Bobo's Boarding House.  Sadly, this post isn't about that experience at all; you will have to wait for that one.  Meanwhile, I thought I'd tide you over with a recipe that I recently made for the first time, but will be making again and again.  Near the beginning of school I went on a lovely hike in the Great Smoky Mountains with friends, and, since we were waking up before anyone could possibly find it proper on a Saturday morning, I brought along a few slices of tart to express my gratitude for people putting up with my grumpitude.  This is that recipe, and, dare I say, it received rave reviews from others, too.  I apologize for not having substantial pictures of the process this time, but I only remembered to photograph it when it was done.

Recipe:  Fig Tart with Blue Cornmeal Crust

First, you'll want to make the crust.  Finely chop about 1.5 Tbsp. of rosemary.  I don't recommend using dried rosemary for this; fresh works far better.  Then, combine the rosemary, 1.5 c. AP flour, .5 c. blue cornmeal, 1 Tbsp. sugar, and .25 tsp. salt in a food processor and pulse to combine.  (You can obviously incorporate these together in a mixing bowl with a whisk or spoon, but the food processor makes the subsequent process of cutting in butter much easier; if you have a pastry cutter, you can always go about it in that way, though.)  Add a stick of cold butter (cut into cubes) to the food processor and pulse until the dough resembles coarse crumbs (with approximately chickpea-sized pieces of butter still visible).  Slowly add about 4 Tbsp. of water to the food processor, pulsing gently between the addition of each Tbsp., until the dough will hold its shape when squeezed gently by hand.  This dough will not (and should not) ball up like some other doughs.  If it isn't quite holding together when squeezed, add more water in half Tbsp. increments until it will hold together.  Once the dough has reached the right consistency, press it evenly onto the bottom and sides of a greased tart pan.  Chill the dough for at least thirty minutes to prevent the crust from shrinking during baking.  Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 400°F.  Once the dough is chilled and the oven is preheated, blind bake the crust for 25-30 minutes until the center and edges are browned.  Cool the crust completely by placing the tart pan on a wire rack.

Now it's time to make the filling.  In a large bowl, whisk together 1/3 c. Greek yogurt and 8 oz. softened mascarpone cheese until well combined.  Then whisk in 1/4 c. sugar, 1.5 tsp. lemon (or other citrus) zest, and 1/8 tsp. salt.  Use a small offset spatula to spread this filling evenly into the cooled crust.  Thinly slice fresh figs (about 1.5# of fruit) and arrange the slices on top of the filling.  (You could also quarter the figs and place them upright on the tart for a more rustic, 3-d effect.)  Finally, gently heat 1 Tbsp. honey and 2 Tbsp. jam (any flavor, though fig or apricot would probably work best) until the jam melts (a few minutes over medium heat).  Because I was using a jam with a flavor that I wanted to mask somewhat (strawberry), I used an aged honey with a deep flavor that I had acquired at a local farmer's market; if you can get your hands on aged honey, I highly recommend it in this recipe.  Brush the figs with the glaze to help preserve their flavor and color.  Take a picture and enjoy!

The Fan-figgin'-tastic Final Product

 

While this tart would make an excellent dessert, the rosemary and cornmeal give it a slightly savory flavor that might make it appropriate for breakfast or brunch as well.  I hope you enjoy it as much as I did; please comment below and let me know what you think if you do try it out.  Hopefully, I won't stay away as long before I post again; unfortunately, though, I can't make promises when I'm knee-deep in mid-semester essays.

 

-John