Supperclub Update

I've been horrible about keeping the blog up-to-date on the Supperclub menus - sorry! Somehow time keeps getting away from me... so, here's a quick-and-dirty recap:

12/9/08: Bari Meatballs and Braised Vegetables over polenta (recipe altered slightly to include brussel sprouts as well as chard), with my favorite chocolate ice cream (you make a caramel base, then create basically a pot de creme, then chill and freeze) for dessert. Meatballs and polenta pictured along with most of the usual suspects... I can't figure out how to upload PDF, so email or post a note if you want me to send you the recipe for the meatballs!

12/16/08: Cassoulet & Capuccino biscotti. Leroy made this amazing quick cassoulet with lots of delicious roasted veggies and beans and chicken - the secret is in the spice rub! I made some biscotti that I was going to bake everyone for Christmas anyway... wish I had photos of this one!

To be continued...

Alaus. alaus duok dieve daugiau...

I owe a few posts on the Supperclub menus, but I need to get home and upload photos and recipes for those...

In the meantime, let's talk beer (alus, in Lithuanian). I recently made my first batch of beer - a red ale from a simple recipe from the brew shop - and it's tasting pretty good! A lighter lager-style beer is currently doing its thing in my chilly basement (Seattle has been very cold for the past few weeks - perfect for lager yeast, which likes cool temperatures for fermentation).

When I cook and bake, I'm not one to get too caught up in the details - I tend to not pre-sift flour, or measure goopy substances like honey or sour cream. I figure it'll work itself out somehow, or I've got enough experience to either fix my sloppiness or live with a failure from time to time and learn something from my mistakes.

When I started baking bread using a natural sourdough starter a few years ago, I found that the attention to detail that professionals put into their baking really pays off - measuring flour by weight instead of volume ensures that your bread is not to dry or to sticky, for example. But mistakes teach you the most about how things are actually working in there; when my original sourdough breads weren't rising properly, some trial-and-error with higher-gluten flours taught me that wild yeast needs a little more help to rise properly.

Making beer seems like a similar enterprise, although the yeasts I'm using are highly specialized creatures that you buy for specific flavor development and brewing characteristics. More experienced brewers warned me that sanitation is the number one issue for home brewers, so I've been scrupulous in that department, and have generally tried to follow the recipes fairly strictly until I'm familiar with the processes. Ruining 5 gallons of beer is a pricey mistake, so I'd rather avoid that if at all possible.

But the urge to experiment and better understand the little organisms that I'm working with is always there for me. Yet homebrewers seem to be a fretful bunch, worried about all the little details (The Art of Homebrewing doesn't dispel this fearfulness, despite its incessant cajoling not to worry and have a homebrew). One person I talked to was almost appalled that I was trying to make lager at home without a dedicated refrigerator; the way I see it, people have been making beer for a long long time in sub-optimal circumstances. Since I'm not doing this professionally, I can afford to mess around a little - no need for strict quality control and repeatable processes (I get enough of that sort of thing at work, thank you very much).

Back in the day (and I'm talking 80+ years ago - because I've been talking to my 94-year-old great-aunt this Christmas season), brewing beer was something you did yourself - along with everything else (growing flax, spinning thread, weaving cloth, making clothes, etc.). My great-aunt and father told me how beer was made in Lithuania "down on the farm." Barley was briefly soaked in warm water, then spread out to start sprouting - this increases the available sugar, as my aunt reminded me. The sprouted grain was then dried thoroughly, then lightly cracked. A barrel with a stopper at the bottom was lined with clean hay (how's that for sanitary?) and then boiling water was added along with grains. Once that cooled down (just like when you make bread), yeast and hops were added and the whole works fermented for a day or two. The barrel was then drained off (the straw worked as a filter to keep the grain in the barrel), and a second (and even a third) batch of beer was made from the same malted barley - decreasing in quality with each batch (my father said they referred to these as the "premium" batch, the "good" batch, and the last which was just "fit for drunks"). The batch of beer was moved to another barrel, aged and rotated in the hayloft (that was my father's job when he was a kid) and tapped for special occasions - like the post-harvest party, when they'd slaughter some sheep, make massive quantities of kugelis (without the modern convenience of the Kugelator), and feed all the people who came to help bring in the rye.

So I guess beer-making is in my blood, at some level - but the genes for sewing clothes were definitely not passed down! I'm going to keep experimenting and see what happens - and keep you posted!

Thanksgiving leftovers

I had a wonderful Thanksgiving with my brother, Rita and Shane, and Rita's parents - the turkey came out great, despite my lax approach (as in, rub it down with butter and lots of salt and pepper, stuff it lightly, and throw it in the oven for a few hours and forget about it). We also had 4 desserts, thanks to Rita! I contributed an apple pie, but she brought pumpkin and pecan pies, as well a pumpkin chocolate layer cake that was in the NYT a few weeks ago. They were all delicious!

I came down with a stomach flu on Sunday, so we had Supperclub on Wednesday last week, which made the week seem much shorter (especially since I was home sick for 1/2 of it!). By Wednesday I was feeling mostly better, and some friendly Lactobaccilli were helping take care of any residual weirdness... (ok - probably more info that you needed).

The menu was leftover-inspired, with a little extra in the dessert department to celebrate Anne's birthday!

To snack on:
Leftover Cranberry Black Pepper Chutney with a delicious sheep's milk cheese on La Panzanella's Rosemary Croccantini crackers (my favorite)

For dinner:
- Arugula salad with a balsamic vinaigrette (my sister Nida's recipe - squeeze a clove of garlic into a jar, add balsamic vinegar, salt, pepper, and a little sugar - screw on the lid and shake to disolve salt and sugar, then add olive oil to match the volume of the vinegar mixture, shake again to emulsify)
- Turkey pot pie with leftover turkey, fennel, peas, pearl onions, carrots and parsnips with tarragon buttermilk biscuits for the crust (this is also a recipe I concocted with Nida years ago when she was visiting for Thanksgiving). I use the Joy of Cooking for the biscuits (use the Buttermilk Biscuit recipe, but increase the liquid to a full cup or so, and add chopped fresh tarragon - they'll be a thinner, drop-biscuit consistency, which means you can just drop large spoonfuls over your pot pie). I made a gravy base with shallots, butter, flour and chicken stock, added a little leftover turkey gravy, and then added a little cream at the end to one of the pot pies. All in all, quite tasty!

Dessert was Upside-Down Pear Cardamom Cake, in honor of Anne (who loves seasonal fruit desserts) as well as the almost over-ripe pears sitting on my counter. This was so good I made it again for friends who came over on Friday night! I used Bartlett pears both times, and quartered them since they were on the large side. The second time I made it I pretty much doubled the cardamom - a spice that I love! I've made upside-down cakes before which failed to neatly disengage from the pan, but I think the enormous quantity of butter in this recipe really helps ease the journey from pan to cake plate! On Tuesday, we ate the cake with a little leftover vanilla whipped cream... on Friday we had homemade limoncello that a friend brought - a surprisingly tasty combo!

Pre-Thanksgiving "light" eating

The Tuesday before Thanksgiving was designated as "hippie food" week - we thought that something a little lighter and nourishing before the annual overindulgence was in order. I made a multi-grain seeded bread with my sourdough starter - it came out tasty, but the dough was very wet, which made the bread flatten out a little like a ciabbata - not bad, just not quite what I was expecting. I've been using Nancy Silverton's Breads From La Brea Bakery for sourdough starter care and feeding insights, as well as her recipes. I'm generally amazed at the quality and attention to detail of her recipes, and the results have been great!

We also made Anne's Lentil Soup with Kale and Sausage - see her blog for the recipe. It was great, and the Italian sausage made it a little less "good for you" and a little more just plain good... A simple mache salad with walnut oil vinaigrette (just walnut oil and lemon juice and some salt and pepper) and toasted walnuts rounded things out and upped the health quotient.

For dessert we had Butterscotch Pudding - an old favorite from Amanda Hesser. It's a great combo of caramel with just a hint of salt in a rich custard... hmmm - I guess our dinner wasn't so light after all!

Korean night

Last week's supperclub was a Korean food fest:

- Scallion pancakes with dipping sauce
- Broiled kalbi short ribs
- Jap Jae (yam noodles with veggies and mushrooms)
- Rice
- Kimchee and many other side dishes (most store-bought except for bean sprouts blanched and dressed with sesame seeds, sesame oil and scallions - yum!)

We also had a couple Korean beers - OB and Hite - OB won the taste test, but the branding is a little unfortunate...

Dessert was mango gummy candies from Japan!

Lithuanian comfort food

With all the depressing economic news swirling around these days, and the darker days post-daylight-savings, I felt a need to make some serious Lithuanian comfort food for last week's supperclub: soup and cepelinai (aka "zepelins"). We also whipped together an Anarchy Cake with some nice French Prune-Plums from the farmer's market (I love this recipe - it's the easiest and goes with any fruit, pretty much).

A recipe for the soup was requested - I made it up, and it went something like this:

1) Ruin some perfectly good homemade organic beef stock by using super-bitter celery from the farmer's market (I should have tasted it first!) - it tasted like Chinese herbal medicine :-(
2) Fix the stock by making consomme with it using egg whites, ground beef and a can of tomatoes (this totally worked - hooray!)
3) Make the soup using the corrected stock, more or less like this:

1 quart (or so) beef stock
1 large onion, sliced thin
2 kohlrabis, peeled and cubed
1/2 butternut squash, peeled and cubed
1/2 head of cabbage, thinly sliced
1 cup leftover soup meat, shredded (from the bones you made the stock with)
a little butter
salt & pepper to taste

Saute the onion in a little butter on low heat - let it caramelize a little. Add the rest of the veggies and the stock and the meat - bring back to a boil, then lower heat and let it simmer for about 1/2 hour. Season to taste.

Cepelinai are a Lithuanian delicacy - and a great way to use up leftover soup beef! I talked to my great-aunt over the weekend to make sure I got the proportions right, and here's more or less how it works:

Per person (so 10 lbs. of potatoes will feed about 6-8 people, depending on how Lithuanian they are):
1 1/2 lbs. peeled russet potatoes (keep them whole in cold water while you work)
1/4 cup (or less) leftover cooked soup meat, shredded, that's been sauteed with a little butter and onion
salt to taste

Take about 1/3 of the potatoes, cube them, and boil them in salted water for about 15 minutes, or until soft. Drain and mash the drained potatoes well.

Grate the rest of the potatoes using either the smallest-holed "star" grater you own (the kind you grate lemon zest with - a regular Microplane won't work - it make the potatoes too stringy) OR (preferably) with a Kugelator - an awesome "tarkavimo masina" from Lithuania that my sister found in Chicago and gave everyone for Christmas one year. As you grate the potatoes, a little Vitamin C mixed in (make sure it's not flavored - or use Fruit Fresh) will help keep them from turning black.

Once you've grated all the potatoes, you need to drain all of the liquid off, reserving it and letting the starch sink to the bottom of the bowl. To drain it well, the optimal solution is a bag that you just happen to have around to make cheese with... or, if you're lame like me and foolishly lost the bag that your great-aunt gave you years ago, you can use a clean flour-sack kitchen towel (I decided regular cheesecloth would break on me). The idea is to squeeze all the liquid out until you have a pretty dry, pasty-looking potato mass in your towel... and remembering to save the liquid in a bowl. This should give your hands a work-out - if it's not, you're probably not getting enough liquid out, OR you're losing a lot of potato mass through too-porous a sieve/cloth.

Back to the starch - let the drained potato liquid sit in the bowl for a few minutes (you don't need to get all of it out of the water for 1 recipe - but you could if you wanted to keep it). Drain off most of the liquid, until you are left with just a few tablespoons of water with a white sludge of starch at the bottom of the bowl.

Mix the mashed potatoes, the grated, squeezed dry potatoes and the sludgy starch in a bowl, add a little salt, and you're ready to shape the cepelinai.

The cepelinai should look like little blimps when you're done - hence the name. Actually, they look sortof a lot like potatoes after you're done, which is pretty ironic given the abuse you've just put them through!

To shape, take a small handful of the potato dough and pat it into a thick round in your hand. Put about 2 Tbs. of the meat and onions filling into the center of the round, then bring the sides of the disc together and pinch it shut. Slap it around in your hands a few times until it has a nice, uniform oval shape. So cute! Finish shaping the rest of the cepelinai, lining them up on a lightly floured pan as you work.

In the meantime, boil a lot of water in a big pot with lots of salt, like you would for pasta. Once the water is at a rolling boil, drop the cepelinai in carefully (using a slotted spoon is a good idea), one at a time - you'll have to boil them in batches of about 3-4, most likely. Keep the heat on high until the water comes back to a boil. The cepelinai will slowly start bobbing at the top of the water - turn your timer on for about 5-7 minutes after this happens, and fish them out with a slotted spoon to a waiting serving dish (preferably with some melted butter in it). Finish cooking the rest of the cepelinai, and serve with spirguciai (basically bacon bits with all their grease cooked with onions and finished with sour cream) and sour cream on the side.

Skanaus!

Yes we did!!!

Last week's Supperclub was an extended Election Night version! We featured "Real America" food (because we're real Americans, damn it) with a few liberal elite touches:

• Homemade Corn Dogs, including "New Mexico Swing-State Chorizo," "Vermont Liberal Weenie Tofu Pup," "Ye Olde Nebrasaka All-Beef," "Louisiana Conservative Andouille" and "Pennsylvania Bratwurst"
• Mac-n-Cheese (made by "chefty" Anne - delicious and a huge hit!)
• Arugula Salad with goat cheese, toasted walnuts, cherry tomatoes and asian pear - beets on the side, with Nida's famous dressing
• All-American Apple Pie (thank you Rita!) - with homemade Vanilla Ice Cream (courtesy of pastry-chef extraordaire Heidi!)
• Obama cake - chocolate cake with the Obama "Hope" poster spray-painted on the frosting (how do they do that?? ink-jet printer technology?)

And lots and lots of bubbly beverages and celebration! Given the political leanings of the crowd, the "Liberal Weenies" and Arugula salad were big hits... although the Adouille was quiet tasty!

Here's to a new era!