guest post: jshu

A guest post from my friend jshu. He's the apple, she's the tree.

When I'm on the road looking to do a little cooking for breakfast, I like to find a few simple ingredients and hunker down in the kitchen. Today I started with some butter wrapped in some attractive paper. Then I took a loaf of bread (pre-sliced) and used it as the main ingredient for Toast (put bread in toaster oven, set to medium, wait for ding, remove, put on plate with pattern that matches butter paper for a little extra flair). The trick here is to put the butter on the newly made Toast while it's as hot as it can be (I use a rounded knife that isn't sharp so I don't cut through the decorative butter paper).

no gruel for brunch

I have some strong opinions about brunch. For example, I don't like the term brunch, which reminds me of hotel buffets and eggs Benedict. I also don't like hotel buffets or eggs Benedict. Which is not to say I have anything against fancy food at brunch. In fact, in my strong, and usually pro-gruel, opinion, there's no place at the brunch table (or counter) for gruel.

This appears to be one of the few areas of culinary common ground the yachtsman and I share: No gruel for brunch. We are not a yogurt and granola people. We'll pass on that fruit salad, thank you very much. Pancakes? Perfect, if they're of the buttermilk or, even better, gingerbread variety; the only whole wheat at brunch should be in the toast. Other than that, we're up for most anything: greasy egg sandwiches; fried chicken and waffles; cheesy scrambled eggs; huevos rancheros. We love coffeecake and pancakes, cornbread and biscuits, waffles and French toast. Potatoes are key, of course: home fries, hash browns, latkes. And the yachtsman will eat just about any breakfast meat, though I've never seen him take out a slab of scrapple, and that's probably for the best.

One morning of each weekend we eat out: The yachtsman prefers diners, I will never tire of the Penny Cluse. The morning we don't eat out usually involves bagels, but occasionally we actually crack a few eggs and cook something brunchy in our own kitchen. For example, the yachtsman makes a mean griddled egg sandwich, and I make a mean face while I wait for him to finish cooking my food.

This morning, to kick off Aspragus Week here at GFD, I made Asparagus and Pancetta Hash. This is not gruel, friends, it's brunch food: You've got your potatoes, your bacon (the Italian kind), and the one green vegetable glistens with fat. Yes, fat. Pancetta renderings. Also, this dish is salty. Also, it is fucking delicious. Whether you're a gruel lover or player hater, I'm pretty sure you'll like this hash. If you're a vegetarian, I feel sad for you, because not eating this hash is a real loss. And I fear that a vegetarian version of this would...well, I fear it would suck, frankly. See "pancetta renderings," above.

But all you no-gruel-for-brunchers should try this at home: Dice and sauté some pancetta, potatoes, onion, and asparagus. Serve with a sunny-side-up egg on top, as I did for brunch this morning, or eat it unadorned, as I will for lunch tomorrow.


Asparagus Pancetta Hash
From Smitten Kitchen

Makes enough to top with four eggs

¼ pound pancetta, cut into ¼-inch dice
Olive or canola oil
1 pound Yukon gold potatoes, peeled and cut into a ½-inch dice
1 small yellow onion, chopped small
½ pound asparagus, tough ends trimmed and cut into 1-inch segments
s&p

1. Heat a 12-inch or larger frying pan over medium heat. Fry the pancetta, turning it frequently so that it browns and crisps on all sides; this takes about 10 minutes. Remove the pancetta from the pan with a slotted spoon and drain it on paper towels. Leave the heat on and the renderings in the pan.

2. If necessary, add some oil to the pan, enough so that between the pancetta renderings and the oil the bottom of the pan is coated (depending on how fatty your pancetta is or how well seasoned your pan is, you may not need any oil at all). Add the potatoes, season with salt and pepper, and let cook on one side without moving until they’ve started to brown underneath, then begin flipping and turning them, letting them cook again for a few minutes between turns, until they’re close to being browned on all sides, about 15 minutes.

3. When the potatoes are almost as crisped and brown as you’d like them, add the onion (if added too early, the onion will burn). Cook for an additional 5 minutes or so, until the potatoes are cooked through and nicely browned.

4. Add the asparagus, cover the pan, and cook for 5 to 8 minutes, or until the asparagus is tender but still crisp. Remove the lid and return the pancetta to the pan for another minute to reheat. Taste for seasoning and adjust if needed, then serve.

so far this morning

This would be snow.


These would be a gift I just received from a neighbor.


I will not be having gruel for breakfast.

the mark bittman minimalist club: no-knead bread for monkeys

According to the data I have been collecting here at the high-tech, state-of-the-art GFD lab, one out of three meals I consume consists of leftovers, usually reheated on my Bunsen burner. I'm currently surviving on leftovers from a dinner we made for friends on Saturday night, so for the rest of the week I'm going to share with you some of the menu items from Saturday night's dinner, as well as their later incarnations (which are sometimes identical).


Let's start with the bread, a collaboration (you could call it a threesome) among my husband, the yachtsman; my boyfriend, Mark Bittman; and some other guy. I've never actually made this bread, but the yachtsman tells me it's so easy, a monkey could bake it, which is good news for all of us who own monkeys. It does require 24 hours of lead time, but other than that, effort is minimal, and the results amazing (soft, chewy interior, and a golden-brown crust that shatters). Making this bread is like inviting a supermodel to your dinner party; the bread gets all the attention. Slather a warm slice with salty butter and it's like slathering the supermodel at your dinner party with butter, except not all pervy like you're thinking. It's just really good, really good-lookin' bread, and this is the best butter ever.

No-Knead Bread
Adapted by the yachtsman from the New York Times

3 cups all-purpose, more for dusting
¼ teaspoon instant yeast
1½ teaspoons salt

1. In a large bowl combine flour, yeast and salt. Add 1 5/8 cups water, and stir until blended; dough will be shaggy and sticky. Cover bowl with plastic wrap. Let dough rest at least 12 hours, preferably about 18 [the yachtsman sez the longer the better], at warm room temperature, about 70 degrees.

2. Dough is ready when its surface is dotted with bubbles. Lightly flour a work surface and place dough on it; sprinkle it and your fingers with a little more flour and fold the dough over on itself once or twice, then gently shape it into a ball. [The yachtsman puts his ball into a proofing basket but says this is not necessary.] Generously coat a cotton towel (not terry cloth) with flour; put dough seam side down on towel and dust with more flour. Cover with another cotton towel and let rise for about 2 hours. When it is ready, dough will be more than double in size and will not readily spring back when poked with a finger.

3. At least a half-hour before dough is ready, heat oven to 450 degrees. Put a 6- to 8-quart heavy covered pot (cast iron, enamel, Pyrex or ceramic) in oven as it heats. When dough is ready, carefully remove pot from oven. Slide your hand under towel and turn dough over into pot, seam side up; it may look like a mess, but that is OK. Shake pan once or twice if dough is unevenly distributed; it will straighten out as it bakes. Cover with lid and bake 30 minutes, then remove lid and bake another 15 to 30 minutes, until loaf is beautifully browned. Cool on a rack.

The morning after he baked it, the yachtsman used his supermodel bread to make his haggish wife a griddled egg sandwich. Griddled, bitches. Happy leftovers to me.

blueberry buckle for breakfast

I don't know a lot about making it -- the man of the house does most of the baking around here. As well as the chopping of wood and sowing of fields and shooting of bears.

But I can tell you this about eating it: Blueberry buckle is good.

The man of the house goes a little Laura Ingalls Wilder with this one and uses a cast iron skillet instead of the recommended cake pan. It's pretty quaint times when he pulls that skillet of buckle from the oven, a dusting of flour and blueberry stains across the calico apron he made with scraps left over from fabric I bought at Olsen's Mercantile to make a new dress. You know, to wear when I teach Sunday school.


Blueberry Buckle
from Cook's Illustrated

Streusel
1/2 cup unbleached all-purpose flour
1/2 cup packed light brown sugar
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
Pinch table salt
4 tablespoons unsalted butter (1/2 stick), cut into 8 pieces, softened but still cool

Cake
1 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
10 tablespoons unsalted butter (1 1/4 stick), softened but still cool
2/3 cup granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon table salt
1/2 teaspoon grated lemon zest
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 large eggs, room temperature
4 cups fresh blueberries (about 20 ounces), picked over

1. For the streusel: In standing mixer fitted with flat beater, combine flour, sugars, cinnamon, and salt on low speed until well combined and no large brown sugar lumps remain, about 45 seconds. Add butter and mix on low until mixture resembles wet sand and no large butter pieces remain, about 2 1/2 minutes. Transfer streusel to small bowl and set aside.

2. For the cake: Adjust oven rack to lower-middle position; heat oven to 350 degrees. Spray 9-inch round cake pan with 2-inch sides with nonstick cooking spray, line bottom with parchment or waxed paper round, and spray round; dust pan with flour and knock out excess. [The yachtsman rather quaintly uses a cast iron skillet, no parchment.]

3. Whisk flour and baking powder in small bowl to combine; set aside. In standing mixer fitted with flat beater, cream butter, sugar, salt, and lemon zest at medium-high speed until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes; using rubber spatula, scrape down bowl. Beat in vanilla until combined, about 30 seconds. With mixer running at medium speed, add eggs one at a time; beat until partially incorporated, then scrape down bowl and continue to beat until fully incorporated (mixture will appear broken). With mixer running on low speed, gradually add flour mixture; beat until flour is almost fully incorporated, about 20 seconds. Disengage bowl from mixer; stir batter with rubber spatula, scraping bottom and sides of bowl, until no flour pockets remain and batter is homogenous; batter will be very heavy and thick. Using rubber spatula, gently fold in blueberries until evenly distributed.

4. Transfer batter to prepared pan; with rubber spatula, using a pushing motion, spread batter evenly to pan edges and smooth surface. Squeeze handful of streusel in hand to form large cohesive clump; break up clump with fingers and sprinkle streusel evenly over batter. Repeat with remaining streusel. Bake until deep golden brown and toothpick or wooden skewer inserted into center of cake comes out clean, about 55 minutes. Cool on wire rack 15 to 20 minutes (cake will fall slightly as it cools).

5. [None of this is necessary if you use the cast iron pan, except the cool and cut parts.] Run paring knife around sides of cake to loosen. Place upside-down plate (do not use plate or platter on which you plan to serve the cake) on top of cake pan; invert cake to remove from pan, lift off cake pan, then peel off and discard parchment. Re-invert cake onto serving platter. Cool until just warm or to room temperature, at least 1 hour. Cut into wedges and serve.

quack

It's been a very exciting, if unproductive, morning here at GFD HQ Internat'l.

In the park, my totem animal.



In the toaster, a fire.


That's right, a fire! That piece of toast was actually on fire! And that's not a metaphor meaning the toast was doing a great job or winning a race, it was literally on fire! It had to be put out! By me! Using a wet dishtowel! (Note to Dad: I unplugged the toaster oven first.) I contemplated baking soda but that seemed messy. I also contemplated grabbing my camera to try and get a photo of the actual flames, but ultimately that would have been messier.



Do-over:

me kathy, you dilbert

Mondays are very hard, in that I must put on pants with a non-elasticized waistband and go to an office and try to act normal. Acting normal is exhausting. How do people work in offices? How do people act normal every day for eight hours?

The answer is that they don't. A couple of years ago when we lived in DC, one of my freelance clients asked me to fill in for an editor on maternity leave and for four months I went to an office five days a week, during which time I had to pretend I was an anthropologist studying a strange culture in order not to scratch my eyes out in my cubicle. I actually took notes every time I had an interaction with one of my temporary, not-normal-acting coworkers.

Anyway, between the old age and the non-elastic waistband and the pretending to be normal for eight hours straight today, I'm a mess. I was going to write tonight about Tommy's Grill, which the yachtsman Rain Man and I went to for the first time on Saturday morning and really liked, but I'm not up for it, so here are a couple photos and the yachtsman's Rain Man's comments.


RAIN MAN: It's yummy. That guy, Tommy? He's nice. And the potatoes were delicious, just the way we like them.

ME: How do we like them?

RAIN MAN: Grilled. Perfectly grilled. Muffin? Grilled.

ME: What else?

RAIN MAN: Egg was delicious. The seats were a little uncomfortable. I was in that booth with a huge hole in it. You could fall into that hole and never come up.

ME: What else?

RAIN MAN: It's true that Tommy never heard the first rule of business: Location, location, location. Maybe he needs to partner with Starbucks. Or Radio Shack. [THESE ARE TOMMY'S NEIGHBORS IN THE STRIP MALL WHERE HIS RESTAURANT IS LOCATED.] With every remote-control-car purchase you could get a free egg sandwich. He's not thinking about creative marketing.

A moto photo of Tommy's Grill's strip mall.

ME: What else?

RAIN MAN [TRYING TO WATCH HOUSE HUNTERS WHILE I TALK TO HIM]: Should we move to Miami?

If you live in the non-Miami/Burlington area, you should check out Tommy's Grill on Shelburne Road. For now I can only speak to the egg sandwiches (everything I want from an egg sandwich, plus not too greasy and with a thick, grilled English muffin) and home fries (real potatoes, hand cut, nicely seasoned), but Rain Man and I will be going back soon to try the fish tacos (homemade tortillas!). Until then, Rain Man will be driving slow in the driveway while I slip into a nice pair of sweatpants.

breakfast at the hot spot

Basically a grilled cheese sandwich that happens to have a fried egg on it.


(That is not a complaint.)

morning at the convent

The light is beautiful here, and the toast is pretty good, too.



Sadly (for them), the other residents get up each morning and put on normal clothes, so I feel pretty classy shuffling around in my Couch Jedi outfit. That's just how I roll: in sweatpants and striped socks and a sweater with holes in the armpits. Yes, I will come model in your runway show, and no, my one-of-a-kind designs are not for sale. The people who run the soup kitchen across the street invited us all over for lunch any time we please, and you know I am not above taking food out of the mouths of the homeless. Sartorially, I think I'll fit in much better over there.

For my concerned relatives and anyone else who's interested, I've posted photos of my studio, bedroom, and the kitchen I spent three hours cleaning here. My friend Laura from Santa Fe came to visit yesterday and gave the place her seal of approval; she also likes my Couch Jedi outfit, so clearly she has good taste and high standards.

i wish i knew how to quit you, peanut butter toast

I am not exaggerating when I say that for years I ate three slices of fake Canadian bacon nearly every day for breakfast. Years. And then one day I grew tired of fake Canadian bacon and cast it aside like it meant nothing to me.

After that I played the field for a little while, finally settling down this past fall with peanut butter toast. Almost every morning this winter I've gotten out of bed, toasted a piece of O'Bread whole wheat, spread it with Teddie all natural peanut butter, and eaten it while I waited for the water to boil for my tea.






We've had a good thing going, me and peanut butter toast, and I really am a one-breakfast woman. But lately I've been fantasizing about other breakfasts: berries and Greek yogurt, a soft-boiled egg eaten eaten right out of the shell with a tiny spoon, even wheatberries and scallions.

Things are not over between us yet; I'll probably string old peanut butter toast along until the strawberries are in season, but the writing is on the wall: We're growing apart and I want to start eating other breakfasts. I hope we can still be friends.

sunday on the couch

I just got the following text message from the littlest sister: "Fabulous goodmorninging!" And to you, too.


Soon I will be moving from the couch to the car, and then to a couple of movie theaters in Montpelier, which seems like the perfect way to spend this day -- it's overcast and raininging.