Dough Hook

This is a dough hook:


It reminds of that urban legend about the couple that parked at Lover's Lane and heard on the radio about the escapee from the insane asylum with a hook in place of his hand. When they got home, they found a bloody hook hanging from the car door handle.

My dough hook looks kind of scary, and I'm a little worried about what mischief it will get up to while I'm sleeping. I wonder if it will be hanging from my bedroom door knob in the morning, all covered in yeast. Because it's actually a genius of a hook, smarter and wilier than the average kitchen appliance. I find that I evaluate my appliances, as if they are team members reporting to me. The crockpot is old and set in her ways, the toaster oven performs well but don't push his limits, the ice cream maker is fast and clever. And now I have a new stand mixer with a dough hook, and it's like the cool new guy everyone wants to get to know, who brings to the table some tricks to get the job done faster, better.



But whether or not you have a mixer with a dough hook, you must make some focaccia. Focaccia is easier to make than pizza because there's no sauce to worry about, and you need very little or no cheese. Simple toppings are best, focaccia doesn't have to be the main course, but it's good with salads or roasted veggies or a saucy pasta. This focaccia with Asiago and sea salt and cherry tomatoes was so simple and delicious that I nearly dropped my food in a rush to give you the recipe and insist that you make it. But I was stopped by the dough hook. It's a rather intimidating enforcer of dining etiquette.


Asiago Focaccia with Cherry Tomatoes and Kalamata Olives
Makes 1 10 inch focaccia

1 teaspoon active dry yeast
2/3 cup warm water
1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon olive oil
1/2 tablespoon salt

Toppings:
1 oz Asiago cheese, grated
4 to 6 cherry tomatoes, sliced thinly
8 to 10 kalamata olives, halved and pitted
4 basil leaves, chopped
Sea salt

Combine the yeast and warm water and let stand until the yeast is dissolved, about 5 minutes. Add flour, olive oil, and salt. Mix by hand or on low speed for about 1 minute to blend ingredients. Knead for about 10 minutes by hand or with the dough hook on low to medium speed until the dough is smooth and elastic. Transfer the dough to a well-oiled 10 inch cake pan and turn it over once to coat with oil. Cover with plastic wrap and let rise in a warm place for 1 1/2 hours.

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Punch down the dough and spread to fill the cake pan. Drizzle with olive oil. Top with grated cheese, tomato slices, olives, and basil. Sprinkle liberally with sea salt.

Bake the focaccia until golden, about 25 minutes. Remove from pan to cool on a rack and serve warm or at room temperature.

This Makes All the Difference

Last year my 30th birthday was celebrated with the theme, "30 is the new 16!", complete with princess birthday hats, pink balloons and a fairy presiding over the food spread.

Those phyllo triangles in the front right corner - I made those, despite how I feel about phyllo. They were filled with mushrooms and cheese. I was told not to make anything for the party, but I insisted. That's how I roll.

This year, 31, wasn't quite worthy of the same level of celebration. It was, however, worthy of a cake. Earlier this summer, as I stood in line at Marshall's, I was unexpectedly wooed by a cookbook perched by the checkout. The title of the book was Great Cakes. Now I don't consider myself a cake person, but when a cookbook costs only $6 and boasts 250+ cake recipes, it's a no-brainer.

And now that I owned it, I decided I was making a cake for my birthday. Some people say I shouldn't make a cake for my own birthday, but I see no problem with it. It's not like I won't make a cake for yours! In fact, I would love to. Would you like Swiss Chocolate Silk or Black Bottom Mint Cheesecake? Graham Cracker Cake or Raspberry Ribbons? Holiday Honey Cake or Lemon Velvet Squares? There are over 250 to choose from.

I went with a cake called Double Trouble Fudge Cake, a two layer cake with a chocolaty nutty filling which I switched out for a raspberry filling instead. The cake itself was as good as any chocolate cake, but I what I want to tell you about here is the frosting and filling. Those two things can turn an average chocolate cake into a winner. It's like regular old "you" with a good haircut and clothes that fit well. Anyone who has seen an episode of What Not to Wear knows this makes all the difference.


The filling is easily made with frozen raspberries (1 1/2 cups), sugar (1/4 cup), lemon juice (2 T), and cornstarch (1 T) cooked briefly to combine and dissolve the sugar and cornstarch. The frosting is something like a chocolate ganache in its taste and texture. I swear it was just an ordinary cake underneath, but it was praised like no other. Or maybe that's just because it was free dessert.

Chocolate Custard Frosting
(yields about 3 cups, enough to fill and frost 2 9-inch layers, 3 8-inch layers, the top and sides of a 9X13X2 pan or a 10-inch tube cake.)

2 oz unsweetened chocolate, coarsely chopped
2 oz semisweet chocolate, coarsely chopped
1 tablespoon ground coffee
1/2 cup boiling water
1 cup sugar
3 tablespoons cornstarch
1/8 teaspoon salt
1 cup half-and-half
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

In a small heavy saucepan, combine the chocolates, coffee, and boiling water. Stir until the chocolate is completely melted and the coffee dissolved. In a separate small bowl, combine the sugar, cornstarch, and salt and add to chocolate mixture, stirring until blended. Slowly add the half-and-half, whisking gently until well combined.

Bring to a boil over low heat, stirring continuously with a wooden spoon. Cook gently about 1 minute longer, stirring occasionally, then remove from the heat. Off the heat, blend in the butter and vanilla. To cool quickly, set saucepan in cold water. Stir gently, do not beat, until icing is thick enough to spread. This will only take a few minutes.

Contemplating Mini Pepperoni

I've been waiting for a really great recipe to come my way so I can share it. I know there are quite a few I've alluded to but not shared - the roasted broccoli, the brown sugar bacon ice cream, the homemade granola. But they're not compelling me right now.

Lately, the best things I've been eating have been simple, whipped up without much planning, centered around the fact that I bought something because it was fun. Why else would one buy a bag of mini pepperoni? It turns out that mini pepperoni last a long time, and once you've tried them in salad (not so great), or as a snack while making dinner (not satisfying), you're left with a 3/4 full bag of mini pepperoni. You feel like a CPG sucker. For those that did not attend business school or work in the industry, CPG stands for Consumer Packaged Goods, you know those companies that are always coming out with some new and improved product for you to squander your money on. It's always some variation on a product you already buy, with a minor tweak, like the dark chocolate version of Milky Way, or different shampoos for curls, sleek, or shine - and what if I want sleek, shiny curls? Yes, I do have several types in my shower.

So maybe, just maybe, there's a pattern here. But putting that point aside for the moment, I'd like to point out that the mini pepperoni did inspire me to make some homemade french bread pizzas. I always liked frozen french bread pizza, but am mostly opposed to processed foods (no that is not a frozen burrito in the freezer, what are you talking about?). And yet, it had never occurred to me to make fresh french bread pizza until I contemplated the mini pepperoni.



Now if you're going to make your own french bread pizza, you have to do it right. Get some freshly baked bread, or Take 'n Bake. I used tomato paste sauteed in olive oil with garlic, oregano, wine, and a dash of salt to make a quick pizza sauce. Use fresh mozzarella, shredded right over the sauced bread. Then throw on anything you have lying around - I used spinach, chopped figs, and of course, mini pepperonis. Bake for 10 minutes at 375.

I've never been so happy to eat french bread pizza. I made it three times, until I used up all my bread. However, I am still contemplating the remaining half bag of mini pepperoni. Ideas?

You Only Have to Be Taught Once

Everyone watched as my friends’ daughter Madeline placed her sandal clad foot directly on the kitchen table.
“Mommy mommy mommy,” she chanted. She’s not yet two years old, and her vocabulary is limited.
“Oh,” her mother Amy said from the chair where she sat nursing her younger daughter. “There she goes putting her foot on the table. I don’t know where she learns this behavior.” We all turned to observe Amy sitting sideways in her chair, one leg thrown over the stuffed armrest.
“Mommy!” her daughter announced.

We learn a lot from our parents, and not only how to sit at the kitchen table but also how to eat at it. My parents taught me about the joys of an English breakfast, a Thai Tom Yum soup, a kefta kebab. They taught me not only how to cut with a knife and fork so I could eat steaks, but also how to eat rice with my right hand (because we wipe ourselves with our left hand). They taught me that our family knows how to cook meat and fish and how to eat it – bones and all. They taught me how to suck the marrow out. They taught me to appreciate food.

Imagine that you’re five years old. Imagine that you have stomachaches all the time, and food is far less interesting than books and friends and weddings between your stuffed animals. Imagine you like hot dogs and corn pops and salty biscuits, but are picky about everything else. And then one day, you start eating goat curry. It’s meaty and spicy and suddenly the hot dog turns into the last kid picked for kickball. But you have to be taught to eat it correctly, to dip your chapatti in the curry and pick up a soft piece of meat, to chew every bit off the bone, and to seek out and call dibs on those fat bones filled with soft, buttery marrow. You are taught to suck the marrow out until it melts in your mouth. You only have to be taught once.

I can’t share the recipe for goat curry – for one thing, I don’t have it in writing. But I can tell you to go out and buy a lamb shank and make something like this Braised Lamb Shank with White Beans. It's a good, homey sort of meal, with the fat of the lamb cut by the hearty white beans. Season the meat and brown it in canola oil in a Dutch oven, then remove it. Saute some chopped onions, carrots, and celery in the oil, add some broth, and return the lamb to the pot. Braise on low heat for 2-2 1/2 hours. Then stir in some white beans mashed with lemon juice and cook another ten minutes, adding salt and pepper to taste. Serve yourself a lamb shank, and on it there should be a bone, like the one on the left side of my plate, that will be full of marrow. Suck it out, making a really loud slurping noise. That's how I do it. I show my appreciation for the food, and to my parents for a lesson well taught.