BitterSweet

Pick Me Up

Worn down by demanding schedules and life in general, we could all use a little pick-me-up now and then, be it in the form of a stiff drink, a jolt of caffeine, or a pleasant little sugar buzz. Or, as some forward-thinking Italians realized so many years ago, all of the above. Enter the tiramisu, so aptly named and translated to just that, “pick me up” or “pull me up;” a dessert designed to awaken the senses. Traditionally combining espresso, coffee liqueur, and of course a decent dose of the sweet stuff, even the smallest helping sounds potent enough to fuel the most grueling of all-nighters. Perhaps the Daring Bakers were feeling my study blues as of late, because a more perfect challenge couldn’t have been chosen for this homework heavy month.

The February 2010 Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Aparna of My Diverse Kitchen and Deeba of Passionate About Baking. They chose Tiramisu as the challenge for the month. Their challenge recipe is based on recipes from The Washington Post, Cordon Bleu at Home and Baking Obsession.

Tiramisu and I are no strangers, having romanced briefly in the pages of My Sweet Vegan, in the form of a Japanese-fusion, green tea version. Although back then I used what amounted to a sponge cake for the lady fingers, I had already planned to revisit this approach in my next book, and had thus developed bona fide vegan lady fingers for my latest creation.

Already halfway to the finish line, it was only a matter of choosing flavors from there. Opting to take advantage of the abundant citrus, a pinch of lemon zest went into those lovely lady fingers. A perfect highlight to brighten up the whole dessert, and making a pairing of limoncello only natural. To add depth, a rich chocolate mousse seemed the only thing that would do. Instead of a paltry topping of cocoa powder, I grated on a thick, crunchy topping of chocolate shavings, lending both texture and flavor in one fell swoop.

My only regret for this month’s challenge was that I reduced the recipes to make a tiny batch of only two individual servings- I could have used a pick me up like this every day!

In a Pickle

“There’s an unusually high amount of bacteria in my kitchen right now,” I cheerfully expressed to a coworker, after explaining what I had been up to earlier in the week. She looked at me with a look of horror, and quickly dropped the subject.

Ever since attending that fateful class on fermentation just over a month ago, the kitchen counter has been looking more like an apothecary shelf than a working surface, lined with half gallon jars filled with all colors and shapes of mysterious, sometimes moldy, mysteries. Enamored by the idea of watching foods morph into new flavors and textures, cultivating and growing something delicious, much like a garden sending out fresh shoots in the spring, I couldn’t start soon enough. Within minutes of walking into the door, I already had a quart of soymilk out, ready to plop a few kefir grains into. Next came the cabbage, to be thinly sliced and turning into sauerkraut, laced with a few slivers of red onion for additional flavor. And while we’re talking cabbage, it only made sense to start up a batch of kimchi as well. Finally, after easing the little square of kombucha mother and its scoobies into a fresh batch of black tea, I was just about ready to sit back and watch things ferment. First, however, I wanted to make a simple batch of cucumber pickles, always a favorite and oh so easy to make. Deceptively easy, really.

That, the most simple and well-known form of fermentation to me, was the only thing this far to go sour, and in a very bad way. I first grew somewhat concerned when a sort of grey peach fuzz developed on the tops of the cucumbers, but very nonchalantly cut off the offending pieces and went on my way. After a few more days in the salty brew, however, when tiny green things began showing up where I was certain I had placed nothing of the sort, it was time to reconsider the project. As much as I hate throwing out food, it’s truly not worth killing yourself over a few moldy pickles.

Fermentation isn’t for everyone- It takes a whole lot of patience, space, and a strong sense of intuition when it comes to either eating or scrapping the often questionable results. While all of my other assorted beverages and vegetables are bubbling along happily, with good bacteria and no disturbing green bits, traditional cucumber pickles are perhaps not in my grasp. Refrigerator pickles, on the other hand, are simple enough for anyone to make, no risks involved.

For those who can’t even think about waiting weeks or months before eating their pickles, this speedy version is for you. Admittedly best after at least a day or two, they’re technically ready to eat after only a few hours. Flavors of all sorts are possible, limited only by the cook’s imagination, but my favorite approach is something slightly Asian-inspired. Miso, ginger, and scallions combine to create a tangy and unusual pickled cucumber, flavorful enough to stand as a condiment to just about anything, or, as I prefer, a little starter or palate cleanser between bites.

Although they may not technically be pickles without being properly fermented, I’m willing to bet that they’re tastier by a landslide in comparison to 90% of those corn syrup-imbued, grey slivers of limp cucumbers you’ll find at the local mega mart.

Miso Pickles

1/4 Cup Barley Miso Paste
1/2 Cup Rice Vinegar
2 Scallions, Thinly Sliced
1/2 Inch Fresh Ginger, Grated
1 Cup Water
1 Tablespoon Salt
1 Pound Pickling Cucumbers, Sliced

Place your miso paste in the bottom of a 1-quart jar or container with an air-tight lid, and add in half of the rice vinegar. Stir to loosen up the miso, until it’s completely dissolved in the liquid, and add the remaining ingredients. Throw on the lid, give it a good shake, and stash it in your fridge for at least 6 hours before eating, and up to 2 weeks.

Printable Recipe

Little Bundles of Joy

For someone who is almost entirely based online, it was the worst possible situation, the nightmare that so many computer nerds fear: My laptop wouldn’t turn on. Under attack from both trojans and viruses, that feeble protection program didn’t stand a chance, and those malicious bugs ran rampant through the system. It was out like a light, and not about to simply snap out of its deep slumber. I was facing a mandatory break from the internet, without even time in advance to prepare. At times like this, it occurs to me how utterly helpless I would be without technology, and how pathetically dependent my whole life is on this one device in particular. Ah, the pain of a blogger and online student.

Desperate for a distraction, the kitchen was my only refuge in this dire situation. Combing my mind for something delicious but perhaps more time consuming than usual, I realized it was about time I finally made gyoza. Once a favorite dish, wolfed down without a care at every Japanese restuarant around, it dropped off my radar for the most part when fishy or meaty additions became a concern. Easy to make, yes, but far more tedious than is appropriate for an everyday dinner, it was a project always slated for another day, until it fell off the to-do list altogether.

Assembling a completely avant-garde filling of adzuki beans and veggies, the strangest part of the whole experience was writing everything down on a quaint little notepad, instead of punching in my directions into the waiting keyboard. The quiet chopping sounds punctuated by the faint scratch of pencil to paper seemed well suited for this recipe, though; a calm, zen environment enveloped the kitchen, despite the flurry of activity.

Gathering wonton skins into little bundles, pinching together the edges just as my home stay mother had taught me so many years ago, the repetitive motion was definitely soothing, grounding; a reminder that life doesn’t stop when the computer goes off, and perhaps even more of it can occur as a result.

I’m not going to lie and say I didn’t hop right online as soon as my laptop was back from the computer hospital, but once everything was up and running again, I was grateful to have had the opportunity to make this long suffering recipe. Not only did the act of assembling it help to sooth my nerves, but the eating of it wasn’t half bad, either.

Don’t think for a minute that it’s not a recipe for a busy day, though- The process of making the gyoza would go many times fast if you had another set of hands (or two) to help! For all those finicky folds, this is one more complex main dish that’s absolutely worth the effort.

Adzuki Bean Gyoza

1 Cup Finely Chopped Vegetables*
1 Cup Cooked Adzuki Beans
1/2 Inch Fresh Ginger, Peeled and Grated
1 Green Scallion, Thinly Sliced
1 – 2 Cloves Garlic, Finely Minced
4 – 5 Fresh Shiitake Mushrooms, Caps Only, Chopped
1/4 – 1/2 Teaspoon Red Pepper Flakes
2 Teaspoons Soy Sauce

40 – 50 (3 1/2)-Inch Round Gyoza Skins**

*I used a combination of napa cabbage, zucchini, and carrots, but you can use just about anything you have in the fridge. Try bean sprouts, red peppers, kale, water chestnuts, broccoli, beets… Don’t be afraid to experiment!

**Be very careful to read labels, as many of those that you’ll find in a standard mega mart have eggs. I purchased mine at an Asian grocery store, and found them in the freezer section. Just make sure they’re completely thawed and at room temperature before beginning to assemble your gyoza.

The procedure for making the filling couldn’t be simpler; Just toss together all of your veggies and seasonings, adding more or less garlic and pepper to taste. For best results, let it sit and marinate for an hour or two, but you can go ahead and use it immediately if you’re in a hurry.

Keep your stack of inactive wrappers covered in a lightly moistened paper towel to keep them from drying out. Have a little container of water ready to seal the edges of the dumplings. Place about 1/2 – 1 teaspoon of filling in the center of one skin (being very careful not to over-fill! It won’t seem like much, but a little goes a long way), run a moistened finger around the whole edge, and pleat the gyoza. It’s very difficult for me to verbally describe the method for pinching together the gyoza into neat little packages, but you can find a really helpful visual guide here.

Once you have all of your gyoza folded and ready to go, heat 2 – 3 tablespoons of oil in a wide saute pan with lid, enough to generously coat the bottom. Although they’re sometimes translated as “pot stickers”, you don’t actually want them to stick in the end! With the heat at about medium, place about 10 – 12 into the pan, being sure not to crowd it, allow the bottoms to brown for about 4 – 6 minutes. Once nicely golden, pour in about 1/3 cup of water, and very quickly clamp on the lid. Turn down the heat to medium-low, and let steam for 5 – 6 minutes, until the skins look translucent. Remove the gyoza to a serving platter, and eat immediately or keep warm in a low oven while you finish the rest.

Serve with additional soy sauce or dipping sauce.

Makes 40 – 50 gyoza

Printable Recipe

Have a Heart!

Quick, can you guess what is shaped like a heart, and may also be good for your heart? Since research seems to indicate that pomegranates can fight heart disease, my frozen pomegranate lollipops fit the bill quite nicely! Lucky enough to receive a few bottles of POM juice to play around with, I knew that blood-red elixir was bound for a special V-Day dessert the moment it landed on my door step.

Though Valentine’s Day isn’t a holiday that I typically celebrate, it does lend itself to a variety of fun treats that I’d otherwise have no excuse to create, and any reason to get into the kitchen is good enough for me.  The first experiment resulted in these simple yet crowd-pleasing pops, complete with crisp chocolate shells and vibrant pink interiors. A healthier alternative to the generally cream- and butter-soaked bon bons that one might give, I think such a carefully constructed morsel would make a much more thoughtful gift to someone you care for. Plus, who can resist food on a stick?

Eat your heart out or just give it away; There are plenty of options for such symbolic sweets, whether romantic or macabre!

Pom Ice Cream Pops

Meat of 1 Coconut
1 1/2 Cups 100% Pomegranate Juice
1 Cup Agave Nectar
1 14-Ounce Can Sliced Beets, Drained
1 Tablespoon Lemon Zest
1 Teaspoon Vanilla Extract
Pinch Salt

Homemade Magic Shell

To make the ice cream centers, simply toss all of the ingredients from the coconut through the salt into your food processor or blender. Thoroughly puree, pausing to scrape down the sides of the bowl periodically, until the mixture is completely smooth. Be patient; this could take between 4 – 10 minutes, depending on how powerful your machine is. Once perfectly blended and creamy, carefully pour the mixture into the indentations of a small, heart-shaped silicon mold. Place on a level surface in your freezer, and let rest for at least 6 hours or overnight, until frozen solid.

Pour any excess ice cream base into an air-tight container, and store in the freezer as well. You can scoop this just like any normal ice cream after about 24 hours, no churning necessary! Bear in mind that it does become more solid the longer you leave it, however.

Prepare your magic shell and lay out a silpat-lined baking sheet to place your finished pops on.

Removing one heart from the mold at a time, carefully but firmly insert a lollipop stick into the bottom of the shape, pushing it straight in without twisting or jiggling it, as this will elongate the opening and make it more likely to fall off later. Dip the whole heart into the magic shell quickly, immersing the pop a little ways up the stick as well to help “glue” it in place. Let the excess chocolate drip off, and place the finished pop on the silpat. Repeat with the remaining hearts, pausing between every two or three to return all of the ice cream hearts to the freezer for 15 minutes, to make sure they don’t get too soft and become difficult to work with.

Stash the whole baking sheet in the freezer until you’re ready to serve the pops.

Eat immediately after removing from the freezer; these hearts melt fast!

Printable Recipe