My pantry is too stinking deep. Sometimes I get a little paranoid about the dusty food urchins that dwell in those dark recesses. Like the ridiculous stockpile of canned organic pumpkin which I'm pretty sure I bought not because it was on holiday sale but rather because the labels are so cute and I'm a sucker for pumpkins. Or the Eagle Brand milk I fetched for the daughter who had her cap set to make lemon meringue pie but then got hopelessly distracted by the love of her life... umm, how many years ago? Then there's the veritable school of canned salmon; the plethora of exotic salsas and artisan jams nabbed on the cheap at Tuesday Morning; the chickpeas... oh heavens, the chickpeas.
So Many Chickpeas.
You get the picture. Is it like this in your world?
But I am all Januaryish determination: all that stuff is coming forth into the light of Judgment Day, either to be transformed into something yummy or condemned to everlasting disposal. Yes indeedy, I will wipe those shelves clean before the first daffodils of spring appear. And I do here vow to greet that day with no chickpeas.
Thus committed, I see right away that I must begin to come to terms with All This Rice. Golly. I must have bought the giant bag at Costco... twice. Woops. So... rice, what? I remembered a huge can of sliced peaches (the Costco biggie-sized can) left over from a church meeting. And wasn't there a half-gallon of almond milk in the back of the fridge that was within hours of its best-by date?
So, voila... I made up this recipe for peach rice pudding. Now, I don't just love canned peaches on their own, but their satiny syrupy smoothness works against the toothy texture of the spiced-up rice. So aromatic, so creamy, so perfect for a cold January day. This one's a keeper.
One note: I've been putting Garam Masala in absolutely everything lately and I've yet to wish I hadn't. But if you don't have it on hand, you could substitute whatever strikes your fancy -- maybe nutmeg or ginger -- or just use the cinnamon and call it good.
Stove-top Peach Rice Pudding
1/2 tsp salt
2 cups rice
1 half gallon carton of almond milk (or whole milk)
1 scant cup sugar or 2/3 cup honey
1 T vanilla extract
1/2 tsp Garam Masala
2 tsp cinnamon
2-3 cans of sliced peaches*, drained (or fresh peaches in season)
Bring four cups of water to a boil in a very large dutch oven (at least 6 quarts) or similar pot with a heavy bottom. Stir in salt and rice, cover and simmer over low heat about 20 minutes, or until water is almost absorbed.
Add almond milk, sugar or honey, and spices. Lift peaches from can with a slotted spoon and carefully add to rice mixture, stirring gently. Increase heat and bring to a simmer, then reduce heat and let simmer, uncovered, for about 30 minutes, stirring frequently to prevent sticking. Reduce heat to low, stir in vanilla, and continue stirring frequently until it begins to thicken, about 15 minutes longer.
Makes a lot, which is good because it's dandy to have leftovers for breakfasts and snacks. Can be eaten warm or cold.
*Note: I used about half the huge can of peaches. With the other half, I made Nigella Lawson's Spiced Peaches. Amazing, and super fast; can't wait to have them with a little goat cheese on crostini. There was a lot of the spicy syrup left in the pot after I jarred the peaches, which I couldn't bear to throw out, so I quickly made it into syrup for pancakes by straining the syrup through a sieve, then adding enough water to the syrup to bring it to 3 cups liquid and pouring it back into the pot with 3 cups dark brown sugar and a spoonful of maple flavoring. I let that simmer for about 20 minutes before pouring it hot into a jar. Keeps in the fridge for a couple of weeks. Deeelicious.
Showing posts with label Breakfasts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Breakfasts. Show all posts
19 January 2011
17 October 2010
Plum Crumble
Last September, on a whim, I rescued a gorgeous box of Italian prune plums from Costco for no other reason than I simply had to behold their breath-taking shade of velvety blue-red-purple piled into the emerald green bowl on my island. That is my favorite color combination. I know God likes it, too, because He uses it so often!
And that is when I began to seriously pursue the perfect plum crumble. Eventually I tinkered my way to this recipe, which is now my favorite thing to do with any kind of summer stone fruit. Well, other than scarf them down over the kitchen sink with their cold nectar dripping off my elbows.
This, lovies, is tangy, sweet, spicy fruit rolling out from under a topping that is by turns custardy, crunchy, and chewy. I think I've actually dreamed about eating this. Justin says it's his favorite dessert I've ever made!
A lovely dessert, but we also like it for breakfast. Good cold, room temperature, or warm. Just good good good every which way, really.
Plum Crumble
For the plums:
½ cup lightly packed brown sugar OR ½ cup honey
4 ½ Tbsp. flour
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp ground ginger
⅔ cup finely chopped crystallized ginger
about 30-40 Italian prune plums, halved and pitted*
Juice of 1 fresh lemon
For the topping:
1 ½ cups sugar (I use unbleached organic)
2 cups flour
1 rounded cup old-fashioned oats
1½ tsp. ground cinnamon
2 tsp. baking powder
½ tsp. kosher salt
5 large eggs, beaten well (4 perhaps, if extra large)
1 cup unsalted butter, melted
Position a rack in the center of your oven, and preheat to 375°F.
In a large bowl, whisk together the seasoning for the plums: the brown sugar or honey, flour, cinnamon, ginger, and crystallized ginger. Add this to the plums, and gently stir to coat. Spread the plums evenly in an ungreased 9X13 inch baking dish. (You could also divide it into two smaller baking dishes.)
In a medium bowl, combine the dry ingredients for the topping: sugar, flour, oats, cinnamon, baking powder, and salt. Whisk to blend well. Add the beaten eggs. Using your hands, mix thoroughly, pinching handfuls of the mixture to produce moist little particles. (If it still has dry patches, add another beaten egg.) Drop spoonfuls over the plums, then pat and spread with your fingers till it covers.
Spoon the melted butter evenly over the topping.
Bake for 35-45 minutes, or until the top is browned.
Serve warm or at room temperature, with crème fraîche, ice cream, or unsweetened whipped cream.
Note: Reheat slowly, in an oven set to 300 degrees or less, to avoid over-browning the crumble.
*Roughly equivalent to about 15-20 regular plums. I just use up a whole container from Costco and I never remember to count. Peaches? Eh, maybe a dozen? I'm totally guessing, can you tell? It's more art than science, so just use what you have and it will all be glorious, you'll see.
30 January 2009
Salmwichin Samwiches
.
By request from my friend Beka Sacran, here's my family's favorite breakfast ever (well, except for breakfast at Cafe Pasqual's in Santa Fe, which trumps any breakfast on the planet). I opted to name it what Caitlin used to call it in her toddler years, which is, naturally, what I still call it in my head. We eat this fabulous stuff with great celebration off and on throughout the year, but we eat it ritually on Christmas Eve, July 4th, and the morning of the annual Scottish Festival. Always and anon, amen.
This is not what you'd call a kindler, gentler breakfast. Nay, me lovies, but this be muckle hearty morning fare! If a bowl of Cheerios is your idea of a slam-bang way to start your day, no offense, but you'll need to either buck up or move on.
We started serving this in bits and slivers to all our kids while they were still in their high chairs, and they all adore the stuff. Now comes our much-beloved new son-in-law who was not similarly weaned, and it looks like he's going to be a tough convert. As yet, he'd rather have the Cheerios. But since it's one of his cousins who requested I post this (and since we've spotted a number of his kinfolk surveying our fridge for any sign of our salmwichin leftovers!), we do yet hold out hope for him!
Salmwichin Samwiches
aka Salmon & Bagels
Smoked Salmon (see my notes, below recipe)
pumpernickel bagels - 1 per person
regular cream cheese
capers
boiled egg, chopped or sliced (1/2 - 1 egg per person)
raw onion, diced
fresh lemon, quartered
strawberry jam
juice - orange or grapefruit is best
fresh hot coffee
(Yes, you'll want those last three items for the full experience. We do not consider them optional.)
At our house, we put everything on the table and everyone builds their own.
Toast the bagels slightly, just enough to warm them and give them a little crunch. Spread with cream cheese. Add 2-3 layers of smoked salmon slices. Squeeze lemon on salmon generously. Sprinkle with diced onion and chopped egg. Dot with capers, making sure to let the brine drain off the edge of the spoon against the inside of the caper jar -- you want capers, not caper juice. Put the top on the bagel, and open wide. YUM.
We like to have a little mound of strawberry jam on the plate to swab onto our bagel scraps every few bites. Kinda like progressive dessert. Oh, it's yummy.
Juice and coffee taste even more amazing than ever with this stuff. Part of the whole palate experience. Must have them. But I already said that, didn't I?
Best served with bagpipes or some Robert Burns ballads playing in the background.
On purchasing smoked salmon: I used to look for Scottish salmon, but over time we noted that we couldn't really detect that much difference among smoked salmons from various source waters. Now we buy the Kirkland Norwegian Smoked Salmon at Costco, which is far and away the best buy we've ever found anywhere -- it costs about a third of what we'd pay somewhere like Whole Foods. The way I figure it, Norway isn't all that far from Scotland. And besides, Salmon are amorous little buggers, famous for swishing off to far off places for courting purposes. So I figure these Norwegian fishies may very well have had a wild weekend at the highland coast at some point, and I'd say that counts for Scottish influence. That's my story, anyway.
Bagels - We like Einstein Bros. Bagels. We've bought the bagels the day before at times, but Dan prefers to scoot out early in the morning to buy the bagels fresh. Bagels are appreciably better the day they're made. Pumpernickel bagels can be hard to find, but there's a predominately Jewish neighborhood near us, so we can usually find them. Hey, call your local bakeries and delis! You never know, they may be willing to make them for you by request.
And one last thing: Lowfat and no-fat cream cheeses leave a tinny, chemical aftertaste on the palate, and have a slimier texture than the real stuff. Not worth it, and definitely not good with smoked salmon. I say use the real stuff and make up for the calories somewhere else!
.
By request from my friend Beka Sacran, here's my family's favorite breakfast ever (well, except for breakfast at Cafe Pasqual's in Santa Fe, which trumps any breakfast on the planet). I opted to name it what Caitlin used to call it in her toddler years, which is, naturally, what I still call it in my head. We eat this fabulous stuff with great celebration off and on throughout the year, but we eat it ritually on Christmas Eve, July 4th, and the morning of the annual Scottish Festival. Always and anon, amen.
This is not what you'd call a kindler, gentler breakfast. Nay, me lovies, but this be muckle hearty morning fare! If a bowl of Cheerios is your idea of a slam-bang way to start your day, no offense, but you'll need to either buck up or move on.
We started serving this in bits and slivers to all our kids while they were still in their high chairs, and they all adore the stuff. Now comes our much-beloved new son-in-law who was not similarly weaned, and it looks like he's going to be a tough convert. As yet, he'd rather have the Cheerios. But since it's one of his cousins who requested I post this (and since we've spotted a number of his kinfolk surveying our fridge for any sign of our salmwichin leftovers!), we do yet hold out hope for him!
Salmwichin Samwiches
aka Salmon & Bagels
Smoked Salmon (see my notes, below recipe)
pumpernickel bagels - 1 per person
regular cream cheese
capers
boiled egg, chopped or sliced (1/2 - 1 egg per person)
raw onion, diced
fresh lemon, quartered
strawberry jam
juice - orange or grapefruit is best
fresh hot coffee
(Yes, you'll want those last three items for the full experience. We do not consider them optional.)
At our house, we put everything on the table and everyone builds their own.
Toast the bagels slightly, just enough to warm them and give them a little crunch. Spread with cream cheese. Add 2-3 layers of smoked salmon slices. Squeeze lemon on salmon generously. Sprinkle with diced onion and chopped egg. Dot with capers, making sure to let the brine drain off the edge of the spoon against the inside of the caper jar -- you want capers, not caper juice. Put the top on the bagel, and open wide. YUM.
We like to have a little mound of strawberry jam on the plate to swab onto our bagel scraps every few bites. Kinda like progressive dessert. Oh, it's yummy.
Juice and coffee taste even more amazing than ever with this stuff. Part of the whole palate experience. Must have them. But I already said that, didn't I?
Best served with bagpipes or some Robert Burns ballads playing in the background.
On purchasing smoked salmon: I used to look for Scottish salmon, but over time we noted that we couldn't really detect that much difference among smoked salmons from various source waters. Now we buy the Kirkland Norwegian Smoked Salmon at Costco, which is far and away the best buy we've ever found anywhere -- it costs about a third of what we'd pay somewhere like Whole Foods. The way I figure it, Norway isn't all that far from Scotland. And besides, Salmon are amorous little buggers, famous for swishing off to far off places for courting purposes. So I figure these Norwegian fishies may very well have had a wild weekend at the highland coast at some point, and I'd say that counts for Scottish influence. That's my story, anyway.
Bagels - We like Einstein Bros. Bagels. We've bought the bagels the day before at times, but Dan prefers to scoot out early in the morning to buy the bagels fresh. Bagels are appreciably better the day they're made. Pumpernickel bagels can be hard to find, but there's a predominately Jewish neighborhood near us, so we can usually find them. Hey, call your local bakeries and delis! You never know, they may be willing to make them for you by request.
And one last thing: Lowfat and no-fat cream cheeses leave a tinny, chemical aftertaste on the palate, and have a slimier texture than the real stuff. Not worth it, and definitely not good with smoked salmon. I say use the real stuff and make up for the calories somewhere else!
.
19 October 2008
Cranberry Bread Brody
When I was a little girl, I thought bags of cranberries looked like pretty pretty red beads. I wanted to string them and wear them. A few years ago I found a wagon load of red wooden cranberry garlands on deep sale after Christmas and I bought an embarrassing amount of them. I've thought about wearing those, too, when they come down from the attic to see me every winter.
Cranberries make me happy, see. Pair them with oranges in recipes, and I'm borderline giddy. This Cranberry Bread is like a happy happy treat with pretty pretty red beads in it. Practically glamorous with a nice pot of something like English Breakfast or Earl Grey.
Great Scot is very fond of this stuff, in fact he's been known to say it's his favorite. But I suspect he's never thought of it as glamorous.
If you double this recipe, like I do, you can use up one 12 ounce bag of fresh cranberries. There won't be any left over to play dress-up with, but you'll feel all thrifty using the whole bag like that.
Cranberry Bread Brody
from Jane Brody's Good Food Book
1 cup whole wheat flour
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 to 2/3 cup sugar, to taste
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt, if desired
1-2 small oranges, used thus:
4 tsp grated orange peel (doubled = 2 T + 2 tsp)
3/4 cup orange juice
3 T vegetable oil
1 egg
1 1/3 cups fresh cranberries, sliced in half or coarsely chopped
1/2 cup chopped nuts (walnuts or pecans)
1. In a large bowl, stir together the flours, the sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.
2. In a small bowl, whisk together the oil, orange peel, orange juice, and egg. Add this mixture to the flour mixture, stirring the two mixtures just enough to moisten the dry ingredients. Fold in the cranberries and nuts, and pour the batter into a greased 9 X 5 X 3 inch loaf pan.
3. Bake the bread in a preheated 350 degree oven for 1 hour (about 50 minutes if you're using mini loaf pans). Set the pan on a rack for about 10 minutes before turning out the loaf to cool completely. Wrap the bread well, and let it stand overnight before slicing it.
Note: Jane Brody says this bread freezes well, but in my experience it doesn't keep well in the freezer longer than a month -- the texture suffers a little. You can, however, buy fresh cranberries in season during the holidays and freeze them in their original bags for year-round use.
Cranberries make me happy, see. Pair them with oranges in recipes, and I'm borderline giddy. This Cranberry Bread is like a happy happy treat with pretty pretty red beads in it. Practically glamorous with a nice pot of something like English Breakfast or Earl Grey.
Great Scot is very fond of this stuff, in fact he's been known to say it's his favorite. But I suspect he's never thought of it as glamorous.
If you double this recipe, like I do, you can use up one 12 ounce bag of fresh cranberries. There won't be any left over to play dress-up with, but you'll feel all thrifty using the whole bag like that.
Cranberry Bread Brody
from Jane Brody's Good Food Book
1 cup whole wheat flour
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 to 2/3 cup sugar, to taste
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt, if desired
1-2 small oranges, used thus:
4 tsp grated orange peel (doubled = 2 T + 2 tsp)
3/4 cup orange juice
3 T vegetable oil
1 egg
1 1/3 cups fresh cranberries, sliced in half or coarsely chopped
1/2 cup chopped nuts (walnuts or pecans)
1. In a large bowl, stir together the flours, the sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.
2. In a small bowl, whisk together the oil, orange peel, orange juice, and egg. Add this mixture to the flour mixture, stirring the two mixtures just enough to moisten the dry ingredients. Fold in the cranberries and nuts, and pour the batter into a greased 9 X 5 X 3 inch loaf pan.
3. Bake the bread in a preheated 350 degree oven for 1 hour (about 50 minutes if you're using mini loaf pans). Set the pan on a rack for about 10 minutes before turning out the loaf to cool completely. Wrap the bread well, and let it stand overnight before slicing it.
Note: Jane Brody says this bread freezes well, but in my experience it doesn't keep well in the freezer longer than a month -- the texture suffers a little. You can, however, buy fresh cranberries in season during the holidays and freeze them in their original bags for year-round use.
Road Scholars' Carrot Cake-ish
Back when I had two little girls who could still fit all their school books into their pink and purple backpacks, we used to pack up our school and go on road trips with my parents whenever we could. We've done so much school on interstates that my daddy started calling us Road Scholars. (We called him our guest lecturer because he always had interesting stuff to add to our lessons.)
I often took loaves of this carrot cake on those trips, pre-sliced and wrapped in foil, because it keeps everyone satisfied between meal stops and all but eliminates the temptations (and expense!) of junk food at truck stops. Daddy used to start dropping broad hints about how good it was about a week before our departures, and then he'd show up all hopeful with his ancient green thermos full of hot coffee.
Ahh, those were amazing years. When God gives you fleeting chances to do great things, by all means do them.
I'm never sure whether to call this stuff carrot cake or carrot bread. Hence cake-ish. Terrific stuff to have handy, at home or on the road. Stellar with good hot coffee mid-afternoon. If there's any left over next day, we toast it slightly and spread on a little cream cheese for breakfast or teatime. Delightful, that.
Road Scholars' Carrot Cake-ish
3/4 to 1 cup sugar
1 1/4 cup water
1 cup raisins
2 cups finely grated carrots (4 medium large)
1 T butter
1 1/2 tsp ground cloves
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
1 cup chopped nuts (pecans or walnuts)
1 1/4 cups whole wheat flour
1 1/8 cups all purpose flour
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt (optionsl)
Combine first 8 ingredients in a saucepan and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Reduce heat and simmer for 5 minutes. Cover the pan and let the mixture rest for 12 hours on the stovetop.*
Combine remaining ingredients, and add to the carrot mixture after it has rested for 12 hours. Stir just enough to combine the ingredients and no more!
Divide batter into two oiled loaf pans, about 9 X 5 X 3 inches. Bake in a preheated 275 degree oven for one hour and ten minutes. (I find that it needs the full cooking time.)
Freezes fairly well, but I've never frozen it for longer than a month. Frankly, I can't imagine why you would put off eating it that long.
*Yes, this resting step is rather odd, but it makes a big difference and you don't want to skip it. It infuses the carrots and raisins with incredible flavor and greatly improves their texture. Plus, this quirky little step makes these loaves so easy to make for breakfast for company-- get the dry ingredients together and let the carrot/spice mixture rest overnight, then bake it in the morning. Your guests will wake up to an amazing, spicy, homey aroma wafting through your house!
~adapted from Jane Brody's Good Food Book
I often took loaves of this carrot cake on those trips, pre-sliced and wrapped in foil, because it keeps everyone satisfied between meal stops and all but eliminates the temptations (and expense!) of junk food at truck stops. Daddy used to start dropping broad hints about how good it was about a week before our departures, and then he'd show up all hopeful with his ancient green thermos full of hot coffee.
Ahh, those were amazing years. When God gives you fleeting chances to do great things, by all means do them.
I'm never sure whether to call this stuff carrot cake or carrot bread. Hence cake-ish. Terrific stuff to have handy, at home or on the road. Stellar with good hot coffee mid-afternoon. If there's any left over next day, we toast it slightly and spread on a little cream cheese for breakfast or teatime. Delightful, that.
Road Scholars' Carrot Cake-ish
3/4 to 1 cup sugar
1 1/4 cup water
1 cup raisins
2 cups finely grated carrots (4 medium large)
1 T butter
1 1/2 tsp ground cloves
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
1 cup chopped nuts (pecans or walnuts)
1 1/4 cups whole wheat flour
1 1/8 cups all purpose flour
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt (optionsl)
Combine first 8 ingredients in a saucepan and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Reduce heat and simmer for 5 minutes. Cover the pan and let the mixture rest for 12 hours on the stovetop.*
Combine remaining ingredients, and add to the carrot mixture after it has rested for 12 hours. Stir just enough to combine the ingredients and no more!
Divide batter into two oiled loaf pans, about 9 X 5 X 3 inches. Bake in a preheated 275 degree oven for one hour and ten minutes. (I find that it needs the full cooking time.)
Freezes fairly well, but I've never frozen it for longer than a month. Frankly, I can't imagine why you would put off eating it that long.
*Yes, this resting step is rather odd, but it makes a big difference and you don't want to skip it. It infuses the carrots and raisins with incredible flavor and greatly improves their texture. Plus, this quirky little step makes these loaves so easy to make for breakfast for company-- get the dry ingredients together and let the carrot/spice mixture rest overnight, then bake it in the morning. Your guests will wake up to an amazing, spicy, homey aroma wafting through your house!
~adapted from Jane Brody's Good Food Book
14 October 2008
Caitlin's Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Muffins
These are happiness on a crisp fall day. By all means, serve them with a pot of hot tea (Earl Grey or Stash Chocolate Hazelnut tea would be my top picks to pair with these muffins). And some happy fallish music. Like Haydn -- maybe the Surprise Symphony. Or maybe James Taylor's October Road. Mmmm perfect. Or Mark O'Connor's The American Seasons. Luscious. Oh, how does one choose?
Caitlin's Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Muffins
2 cups flour
1 T baking powder
½ tsp salt
½ tsp ginger
¼ tsp freshly grated nutmeg
1 tsp cinnamon
dash ground cloves
⅔ cup sugar
1 egg, beaten
1 cup sour cream*
3 T orange marmalade
⅓ cup oil
1 cup cooked pumpkin (canned is fine)
1 cup chocolate chips
Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
Combine dry ingredients well. Combine wet ingredients and stir into dry mixture, stirring just until dry ingredients disappear-- do not overblend or muffins will be tough.
Line muffin tin with paper cups, and fill. Bake 20-25 minutes.
*I'm obsessed with my new homemade yogurt cheese maker. Why did I not know about this glorious stuff before? So I'm going to try yogurt cheese as a substitute for sour cream next time I make these muffins. I'll let you know how it goes.
Bran Muffins
from The Best Recipe
These muffins are Caitlin's specialty, and they are amazing. I don't know if it's brave or foolish for me to confess that I think they're (gasp) even better than my mother's.
Now then, let me say that Mother's bran muffins are miiighty fine. But they use a lot of All-Bran cereal, which contains a load of sugar in addition to high fructose corn syrup, which I've eliminated from my diet in my post-cancer life. (I would post Mother's recipe except that I think you need to eliminate HFCS from your diet, too. Once you've survived cancer you get to be horsey like that.)
Everyone needs really tasty bran muffins in their life, so I was extremely enthused when Caitlin found this recipe and began to regularly rise up and bless me with them. I guess now that she's all married and everything I'll have to start making them for myself. Sigh.
This is our go-to recipe when we need to use up that last glug of buttermilk lurking in the back of the frig.
Caitlin, I'm wondering here... do you ever substitute plain yogurt for the sour cream? More whole wheat flour and less white? Less brown sugar? Do tell.
Bran Muffins
makes 1 dozen muffins
Wheat bran is available at natural food stores. It is also available in supermarkets in boxes labeled Quaker Unprocessed Bran.
1 1/4 cups all purpose flour
1/4 cup whole wheat flour
1 1/4 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
3/4 tsp salt
1 1/4 tsp ground cinnamon
3/4 tsp ground allspice
1/2 tsp freshly grated nutmeg
7 T unsalted butter, softened
1/2 cup plus 2 T packed dark brown sugar
2 large eggs
2 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
3 T unsulphured molasses
1/4 cup sour cream
1 cup plus 3 T buttermilk
1 1/2 cups wheat bran
1 cup raisins
1. Adjust oven rack to lower-middle position and heat oven to 375 degrees. Whisk flours, baking powder, baking soda, salt and spices together in medium bowl; set aside.
2. Cream butter with mixer on medium speed until light and fluffy, 1 to 2 minutes. Add brown sugar, increase speed to medium-high and beat until combined and fluffy, about 1 minute longer. Add eggs one at a time, beating thoroughly before adding the next. Beat in vanilla, molasses, and sour cream until thoroughly combined and creamy, about 1 minute longer. Reduce speed to low; beat in buttermilk and half the flour mixture until combined, about 1 minute. Beat in remaining flour mixture until incorporated and slightly curdled looking, about 1 minute longer, scraping sides of bowl as necessary. Stir in bran and raisins.
3. Spray 12 cup muffin tin with vegetable cooking spray or coat lightly with butter. Divide batter evenly among cups. Bake until a toothpick inserted into center withdraws cleanly or with a few moist particles adhering to it; about 25 minutes. Set on wire rack to cool slightly, about 5 minutes. Remove muffins from tin and serve warm.
These muffins are Caitlin's specialty, and they are amazing. I don't know if it's brave or foolish for me to confess that I think they're (gasp) even better than my mother's.
Now then, let me say that Mother's bran muffins are miiighty fine. But they use a lot of All-Bran cereal, which contains a load of sugar in addition to high fructose corn syrup, which I've eliminated from my diet in my post-cancer life. (I would post Mother's recipe except that I think you need to eliminate HFCS from your diet, too. Once you've survived cancer you get to be horsey like that.)
Everyone needs really tasty bran muffins in their life, so I was extremely enthused when Caitlin found this recipe and began to regularly rise up and bless me with them. I guess now that she's all married and everything I'll have to start making them for myself. Sigh.
This is our go-to recipe when we need to use up that last glug of buttermilk lurking in the back of the frig.
Caitlin, I'm wondering here... do you ever substitute plain yogurt for the sour cream? More whole wheat flour and less white? Less brown sugar? Do tell.
Bran Muffins
makes 1 dozen muffins
Wheat bran is available at natural food stores. It is also available in supermarkets in boxes labeled Quaker Unprocessed Bran.
1 1/4 cups all purpose flour
1/4 cup whole wheat flour
1 1/4 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
3/4 tsp salt
1 1/4 tsp ground cinnamon
3/4 tsp ground allspice
1/2 tsp freshly grated nutmeg
7 T unsalted butter, softened
1/2 cup plus 2 T packed dark brown sugar
2 large eggs
2 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
3 T unsulphured molasses
1/4 cup sour cream
1 cup plus 3 T buttermilk
1 1/2 cups wheat bran
1 cup raisins
1. Adjust oven rack to lower-middle position and heat oven to 375 degrees. Whisk flours, baking powder, baking soda, salt and spices together in medium bowl; set aside.
2. Cream butter with mixer on medium speed until light and fluffy, 1 to 2 minutes. Add brown sugar, increase speed to medium-high and beat until combined and fluffy, about 1 minute longer. Add eggs one at a time, beating thoroughly before adding the next. Beat in vanilla, molasses, and sour cream until thoroughly combined and creamy, about 1 minute longer. Reduce speed to low; beat in buttermilk and half the flour mixture until combined, about 1 minute. Beat in remaining flour mixture until incorporated and slightly curdled looking, about 1 minute longer, scraping sides of bowl as necessary. Stir in bran and raisins.
3. Spray 12 cup muffin tin with vegetable cooking spray or coat lightly with butter. Divide batter evenly among cups. Bake until a toothpick inserted into center withdraws cleanly or with a few moist particles adhering to it; about 25 minutes. Set on wire rack to cool slightly, about 5 minutes. Remove muffins from tin and serve warm.
04 October 2008
Couscous Pudding
My beloved friend Tina Danze is a freelance writer and food photo stylist, and a regular contributor to the Dallas Morning News on food related topics. Back when Tina and I were both living in a whirling cloud of very small daughters, we got together every few days so the little angels could rearrange everything inside our property lot lines while we wallowed in the rare chance to have real conversation (whoopee! big words! irony! subordinate clauses!) with another rational being. On one such day, we were being serenaded by a quartet of tiny Belle-wannabes warbling discordantly about life in "a qui-et vil-lage" (of all things) when Tina abruptly levelled her professional gaze at me and all but shouted over the cosmic din, "So, Lynn, do you like couscous?"
Her kids are cute but they're getting to her, I thought.
"Tina," I chided, "did you really just say 'koos-koos'? Surely that's not a real word. It's just a cutesy name your kids came up with, right?" Whereupon she hooted, grabbed a pen, and set about inking my ignorance into the public record. In the opening paragraph. Of the lead article. Of the most popular section of the Wednesday paper.
That's what I get for being pals with the food paparazzi.
So look, there were plenty of perfectly cool people in the early 90's who had never heard of couscous. I'd been busy reproducing and whatnot, okay?
But I'm a good sport, I am, and always curious, so I fetched me some couscous straightaway, I did. And all was forgiven when I pulled the first pan of this Couscous Pudding out of my oven. Reminiscent of rice pudding but faster to make, it has long ranked high on my children's list of comfort foods. Nowadays my girls make it for breakfast or just for an afternoon snack. So yeah, Tina, I like couscous.
This recipe is forgiving, so don't sweat the measurements too much. Want to use up that last egg? Fine, crack it in; an extra will only make the pudding eggier. This is a good thing. And I am intentionally sloshy when measuring out the spices, vanilla, and lemon juice. Life is short, you know. Live it spicy, friends.
Couscous Pudding
(8 servings)
4 cups water
2 cups couscous
2 T butter
1 ½ cups milk or milk substitute
4-5 eggs
⅓ cup sugar
¼ tsp salt
½ tsp cinnamon
¼ tsp freshly grated nutmeg
1 tsp vanilla
½ tsp grated lemon rind
1 tsp lemon juice
½ cup raisins
Preheat oven to 325F. Stir couscous into boiling water; turn heat to low, cover the pan and simmer until the water is absorbed (less than five minutes). Transfer to a large bowl and stir in the butter.
Beat together: milk, eggs, sugar, salt, cinnamon, vanilla, nutmeg, lemon juice & rind. Stir into the couscous. Stir in raisins.
Pour into a buttered baking dish and sprinkle with additional cinnamon if desired. Bake at 325F for 30-40 minutes or until the pudding is set (45 minutes for a double recipe). Serve warm or room temperature. Leftovers are good reheated with a little milk.
Her kids are cute but they're getting to her, I thought.
"Tina," I chided, "did you really just say 'koos-koos'? Surely that's not a real word. It's just a cutesy name your kids came up with, right?" Whereupon she hooted, grabbed a pen, and set about inking my ignorance into the public record. In the opening paragraph. Of the lead article. Of the most popular section of the Wednesday paper.
That's what I get for being pals with the food paparazzi.
So look, there were plenty of perfectly cool people in the early 90's who had never heard of couscous. I'd been busy reproducing and whatnot, okay?
But I'm a good sport, I am, and always curious, so I fetched me some couscous straightaway, I did. And all was forgiven when I pulled the first pan of this Couscous Pudding out of my oven. Reminiscent of rice pudding but faster to make, it has long ranked high on my children's list of comfort foods. Nowadays my girls make it for breakfast or just for an afternoon snack. So yeah, Tina, I like couscous.
This recipe is forgiving, so don't sweat the measurements too much. Want to use up that last egg? Fine, crack it in; an extra will only make the pudding eggier. This is a good thing. And I am intentionally sloshy when measuring out the spices, vanilla, and lemon juice. Life is short, you know. Live it spicy, friends.
Couscous Pudding
(8 servings)
4 cups water
2 cups couscous
2 T butter
1 ½ cups milk or milk substitute
4-5 eggs
⅓ cup sugar
¼ tsp salt
½ tsp cinnamon
¼ tsp freshly grated nutmeg
1 tsp vanilla
½ tsp grated lemon rind
1 tsp lemon juice
½ cup raisins
Preheat oven to 325F. Stir couscous into boiling water; turn heat to low, cover the pan and simmer until the water is absorbed (less than five minutes). Transfer to a large bowl and stir in the butter.
Beat together: milk, eggs, sugar, salt, cinnamon, vanilla, nutmeg, lemon juice & rind. Stir into the couscous. Stir in raisins.
Pour into a buttered baking dish and sprinkle with additional cinnamon if desired. Bake at 325F for 30-40 minutes or until the pudding is set (45 minutes for a double recipe). Serve warm or room temperature. Leftovers are good reheated with a little milk.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)