Tag Archive for 'bread'

Mushroom Strata

Published on January 31, 2011 in Breakfast and eggs. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , , .

One of my New Year’s resolutions was to have people over more and unlike some others (ahem, exercise regularly, cut back on wine consumption during the week, etc. etc.), I’ve really stuck to this one. Sunday brunch has quickly become our favorite time to have friends over. People can bring their kids, dogs — everyone’s welcome. It’s a good day to just hang out, drink wine (again with the wine…), play Kinect and nosh all afternoon.

And the perfect dish for Sunday brunch is this mushroom strata. It’s quick to prepare, can be easily adapted and you can make it the night before, so all you have to do the morning of is pop it in the oven for an hour and Bob’s your uncle.

That leaves you plenty of time to get everything else ready, clean the house or…drink wine (is there a theme emerging here?).

Notes: In terms of timing, the longer it sits, the less eggy it is, so I actually prefer to cook the mushroom mixture the night before and put the strata together in the morning and let it sit for about 2-3 hours.

It would also be tasty with the addition of ground faux sausage to the mushroom mixture (Yves makes a really good one).

Mushroom Strata

Adapted from Real Simple

2 tablespoons butter or olive oil
1 onion, diced
10 ounces/6 cups cremini mushrooms, sliced
1 tablespoon chopped fresh herb such as thyme or sage (or 1 teaspoon dried)
1 cup nuts (walnuts, pecans and almonds are all good), roughly chopped
1 cup dried cranberries, chopped (apricots are nice too)
1 teaspoon salt
5 eggs
2 cups milk (you can use soy/almond/rice/cow)
1/8 teaspoon grated nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
Pepper
15-18 slices whole wheat bread (whole-grain/honey all work too)
1/4 pound Gruyère, grated (~3/4 cup)
1/4 pound provolone, grated (~3/4 cup)

Melt the butter in a large skillet on medium-high heat. Add the onions and cook for a few minutes, then add the mushrooms and the herb Cook until the mushrooms have softened, but still hold their shape, about 5 minutes. Stir in the nuts and cranberries, 1/2 teaspoon salt and pepper to taste and take off the heat.

In the meantime, lightly beat the eggs in a bowl and add the milk, nutmeg, cinnamon, 1/2 teaspoon salt and pepper to taste.

Lightly coat a 9″ x 13″ inch baking dish with olive oil spray. Using about 5-6 slices, place a layer of bread in the pan to cover the bottom. Spread half of the mushroom mixture on top of the bread, then top with 1/3 the cheese (you can mix the cheese or do layers, whatever floats your boat). Repeat with another layer of bread, mushrooms and cheese. Top with the last layer of bread; press the bread down to compact the layers.

Pour the egg mixture over the bread and top with the remaining cheese. Cover and refrigerate for minimum one hour or overnight. Preheat the oven to 350ºF/180ºC and bake for one hour, uncovered (if the cheese on top gets too brown, cover with aluminum foil).

Jim Lahey’s No-Knead-But-Some-Work Bread

Published on January 12, 2011 in Breads + Muffins. 0 Comments Tags: , .


I know, I know, I’m late to the party. But my excuse is that I couldn’t find instant yeast in Argentina (and almost couldn’t find it in the US either, as Whole Foods was out for about a month! Shocking. And I thought America was the land of plenty). And I didn’t have a blog in 2006. So there. Anyway, I’m here now and ready to party.

I have to say that I’m a bit of a lazy bones when it comes to actually kneading dough, so I usually end up using my bread machine. But in this case, you don’t have to knead the bread, so that’s a bonus. The only thing is this recipe requires foresight, something I’m, ahem, working on. Hey, I don’t like to be tied down, okay? And I’m sort of fond of instant gratification, which, I’m discovering, is not really possible when things like yeast are involved.

And another thing: while this may be a no-knead bread recipe, it’s not a you-really-don’t-have-to-do-anything recipe. Because you do. There’s some manhandling of dough going on, as well as flouring of things and general waiting/rising periods. So, it’s not like you don’t have to be around for a decent chunk of time. But seeing as how I attempted this just after a major snowstorm (aka Snowmaggedon) hit the East coast, I was pretty much homebound anyway. And there’s really nothing like the smell of baking bread.

But just so you know, I’ve revised the name of this bread to “Jim Lahey’s No-Knead-But-Some-Work Bread.”

All kvetching aside, this bread is pretty f@#cking amazing (excuse my ampersand, but I just can’t come up with another word that encapsulates my awe). The outside is super crunchy and the inside is light, almost smooth or slippery in texture. I can’t even really describe it, but I will say it’s the best-textured bread I’ve ever made. And now that I’ve done it, I can see myself making this bread all. the. time. (or at least every 20+ hours or so).

OK, really now. Let’s DO this (Leroy Jenkins)!

NOTE: The dough was really sticky for me, so I had to use a lot more flour for the dusting and folding part than the recipe calls for (which is “a little”). And it was really gooey. I’m not sure if that’s because I used whole wheat flour or I didn’t wait the full 18 hours, but the bread still came out okay. It was just really messy (see: aforementioned name change).

Jim Lahey’s No-Knead-But-Some-Work Bread

from the NY Times

Makes one 1½-pound loaf

3 cups all-purpose or bread flour, more for dusting (I used whole-wheat bread flour)
¼ teaspoon instant yeast
1¼ teaspoons salt
Cornmeal or wheat bran (if you’re not using flour for the towel-dusting)

In a large bowl combine flour, yeast and salt. Add 1 5/8 cups water (which doesn’t have to be warm, btw), and stir until blended. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and let it rest somewhere warm for a minimum of 12, but preferably more like 18 hours (it should be around 70ºF or so, like a corner of your kitchen counter vs. the window sill in our bedroom which has actual ice and snow encrusted on it ON THE INSIDE. Did I mention it’s 85º in Buenos Aires right now?). It’s ready when the surface is pockmarked with bubbles. In my case, I made the dough at 5:00 pm and moved onto the next step at about 9:30 the next morning, so that’s 16.5 hours.

Scoop the dough out of the bowl and onto a floured board; sprinkle the dough with more flour and fold it over on itself once or twice. Cover loosely with plastic wrap and let rest about 15 minutes.

Using flour to prevent sticking, shape the dough into a ball (mine was more like a blob than an actual ball). Generously coat a cotton towel (not terry cloth) with flour, wheat bran or cornmeal, making sure to make a bigger circle than what you’re starting out with because it’s going to spread out. Put the dough seam side down on the towel and dust with more flour, bran or cornmeal. Cover with another cotton towel and let rise for about 2 hours. When it’s ready, the dough will be more than double in size and will not readily spring back when poked with a finger (i.e., the hole will stay there for a bit).

At least a half-hour before the dough is ready, heat your oven to 450ºF/232ºC and put a 6- to 8-quart heavy covered pot (cast iron, enamel, Pyrex or ceramic all work) in the oven as it heats up. [Note: I used a Le Creuset enamel pan and was out walking the dog and forgot, so I only heated the pan for about 10 minutes. Again, not an issue.]

When dough is ready, remove the pot from oven and be careful because that sucker is hot (even with only 10 minutes of preheating). Slide your hand under towel and flip the dough over into pot, seam side up (I didn’t really have a seam; as I mentioned before, mine was more of a blob than a ball). If needed, shake the pan a bit to settle the dough evenly into the pan; it will straighten out as it bakes.

Bake 30 minutes covered, then remove the lid and bake another 15 to 30 minutes, until your loaf is beautifully browned (mine only needed 15 minutes).

Slide out of the pan onto a rack and let it cool a bit before devouring.

Whole Wheat Baguette

Published on October 12, 2010 in Basics. 2 Comments Tags: .


One of my favorite memories is when my dad would take us kids skiing, and Mom would stay home and make bread (and probably get some much-needed down time). Coming home to a warm and cozy kitchen filled with the smells of freshly-baked honey wheat bread and piping hot hambone soup instantly warmed our windburned faces and empty stomachs.

There is something wonderfully fulfilling about baking your own bread. There is an element of simplicity in bread-making, of being connected to what you’re eating, that’s really very satisfying. Plus, I’m a carb addict, so that part’s fulfilling too.

Before we left for Argentina last year, I had really gotten into making baguettes. I’d always baked a lot of bread, but I’d never really made baguettes. But one day, while wandering the aisles of Broadway Panhandler (which is just not the same since they moved from their original Soho location, by the way), I found this. You don’t really need a baguette pan to make baguettes (a sheet pan works fine), but all those little holes are supposed to allow the hot air in the oven to circulate better, giving you that crusty on-the-outside/tender-on-the-inside texture coveted the world over. Plus, it broke down some sort of mental block I had about not being able to do it.

And it’s really easy (especially when you cheat like I usually do by using a bread machine). Yesterday, though, I decided to forgo the cheater’s method when I found this recipe for whole wheat baguettes. I’m sure I could’ve used it, but I was nervous about the multiple mixing steps the recipe calls for because that’s not really possible in a bread machine (or if it is, I don’t know how to do it).

And you know, it was really easy and rather satisfying. There I was, kneading away in the kitchen, having a Little House on the Prairie moment (and getting my arm workout for the week), and it was lovely. Very earthy stuff.

And the bread. Wow. Crusty on the outside and tender on the inside with a nice nutty wheat flavor. It hardly needed the butter, but is there anything that isn’t better with butter? I thought not.

NOTES: In the past, I’ve added a cup of very hot water to a baking pan set on the rack below the baguette pan. I’ve read about misting the bread and the sides of the oven with water during the baking process (after 1 minute and then after 2 more minutes), but haven’t tried that yet. Also, a pizza stone can be used in place of the baguette pan.

Whole Wheat Baguettes
Adapted from Diary of a Locavore

Makes 2 loaves

1-1/4 cups very warm water
2-3/4 teaspoons yeast
2 tablespoons sugar
3 cups whole wheat flour
1 teaspoon salt

In a large bowl, stir together the water, yeast and sugar. Let it stand for 5 minutes. Using a wooden spoon, stir in half of the flour and the salt, mixing until the dough is smooth. Add the second half of the flour and once the dough starts coming together, switch to your hands for easier mixing.

Now the workout. Dump the dough onto a lightly floured board and knead for 10-15 minutes (I lasted about 10 minutes, which was fine), until the dough is elastic.

Place the dough in a well-oiled bowl. Cover with a clean kitchen towel and set in a warm place until it doubles in size. For me, this took 30 minutes. Preheat oven to 400ºF/204ºC. Punch down the dough and separate into two balls. Using your hands, form each ball into a 12″ long baguette, rolling on the surface of the board and shaping as you go. Repeat with the second ball and place both baguettes in the baguette pan or on a greased sheet pan that’s sprinkled with cornmeal.

Make several diagonal slashes (at a 45º angle) in the surface on the bread (kitchen shears work great for this). Mist the surface with water (you can also use a pastry brush). Let rise again (about 10-15 minutes) and bake for 10-15 minutes, or until the outside is browned (for me it took exactly 13 minutes).

French Onion Soup, Part Un

Published on April 13, 2010 in French and Soups + Stews. 0 Comments Tags: , , , .


This is a recipe from my oldest sister, Alicia, who is not only a lovely and talented artist and photographer, but am amazing cook. She got this recipe from her seventh grade French teacher, Mme. Denton. It was all very exotic back in the day (a long, long time ago…); you know, there was beer in there! And some kind of cheese and bread *in* the soup! Hey, I was eight. This was earth-shattering stuff.



Nowadays, there’s a lot of talk about cooking onions in the oven rather than on the stovetop (don’t I sound like some kind of old-timer, sitting in a rocking chair on the porch, muttering about “a lot of talk?”). They say it’s easier because you don’t have to stir them, but that’s part of the joy of making this soup, I think. It’s the kind of soup you must tend to, not in a painstaking way, but in a puttering about the kitchen, sipping a glass of wine, nibbling on pieces of baguette and gruyère, occasionally stirring the onions in the pot kind of way. There’s something to be said for soup that’s tended to and nurtured gently on its way. It’s the whole cozy thing, which is one of the reasons I love to cook. Having said that, I do have another French onion soup recipe (coming, coming) that does cook the onions in the oven and it’s rather delicious. But it’s hardly low maintenance. Either way, whether you choose the stovetop or the oven, just please make this soup.


The onions, cooked very slowly in a pool of butter develop a lovely sweet and rich flavor. The beer adds a nice nutty and slightly bitter contrast to the sweetness of the onions. Add the baguette and gruyère and let it get all melty and gooey under the broiler and, well, there’s really nothing quite as satisfying. I like to serve this with a very simply dressed green salad and a robust cabernet sauvignon or malbec.

NOTE:
The original recipe calls for half beef stock and half chicken stock, but I use all vegetable stock, natch. I must confess that in my meat-cooking days, I used to use veal stock, which I got from the chef at the Old Homestead, a venerable steakhouse over on Hudson in the meatpacking district — before there was a meatpacking district, I might add (eek, that makes me really old). One day when I couldn’t find any good stock at Chelsea Market, I wandered in there and the chef actually GAVE me a tub of crazy-rich-almost-to-the-point-of-jelly veal stock. It really was marvelous. But those days are over and it’s quite alright, really. This soup is delicious with whatever stock you use.

Day 2 lazy version: cheese melted/bread on the side

French Onion Soup

1/2 stick (1/4 cup)/57 grams unsalted butter (or if you only have salted, just omit the salt below)
2 pounds (or about 4 medium) onions, peeled, then thinly sliced into rings
3 sprigs fresh thyme (couldn’t find it, so went with a tsp of dried)
3/4 teaspoon salt
1 bottle of a good dark beer (like Brooklyn Brown or one of those kooky mini-keg cans of Guinness)
6 cups vegetable stock
2 bay leaves
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
Baguette, cut into 1/2″ thick slices, on the diagonal
8 ounces Gruyère, grated
2 tablespoons, Parmesan, finely grated

Melt butter in a heavy-bottomed saucepan or Dutch oven over moderate heat. Separate the onion rings with your fingers into the pan, add the thyme and salt and cook uncovered, stirring regularly, for about 45 minutes. You want the onions to get very soft, but not turn brown. Add beer and cook covered for 5 minutes, followed by the stock, bay leaves and pepper. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer covered for another 30 minutes or so. Test for seasoning (keeping in mind you will add cheese that can be salty).

In the meantime, cut the bread and place on a sheet pan in a preheated oven set at 350ºF/180ºC. Turn once and cook until toasted and dry (about 15 minutes).

To serve the soup, ladle the soup into soup bowls (preferably something like this* — you can also do one giant one like this, but you’ll probably end up fighting over who gets which hunk of cheesy bread), place a slice or two of the dried bread (or croûte, which is the technical, sexier term) on top and cover with a healthy smattering of gruyère and a soupçon (sorry) of the Parmesan.

Stick the bowls under the broiler (or if you have a broiler in your oven, put them in a shallow pan and put that under the broiler) for a minute or two. You want the cheese to melt and start to turn a little brown.

NOTE: Most of us NYers and BsAsers have the teeny broiler thing under the oven, so sometimes a pan and the bowls won’t fit. So just stick the bowls in and be careful when you take them out! If your bowls won’t fit in either, you can do the bread and cheese on a small flat pan and then place them in the bowls after. Not to worry. Cheese melted onto bread any way possible is all that matters.

Bon appétit!

* I have these bowls at home, but as you can see from the photos, I have no proper substitute. Don’t laugh! It’s sad. And in case you’re just joining us, see this post. I’m limited, people. Limited. Sigh.