twinkling treats: sparkly lemon cookies

On the heels of an awesome first weekend skiing at Beaver Creek, I’ve just finished unpacking then re-cramming my suitcase for a  Christmas trip back East, and know already that I will manage to forget something – it’s a real talent of mine.  (This past weekend that something was underwear; not ideal to realize the lackthereof just as you are getting suited up to hit the slopes.)  This month blazed forth in a blur of twinkling lights, peppermint bark, ugly sweaters, and eggnog, and I can hardly believe that I am literally just moments from dashing out the door, and that we are down to just ten days left this year.

As it always is, time is not exactly in abundance when we reach this juncture; our hours are frantically parceled off into holiday parties, gift shopping, and projects until we crawl out from under the pile of ribbons and wrapping paper to get some fresh air, and suddenly, TA-DA! — It’s Christmas.  And if you’re anything like me you’re behind in doing, oh, a bit of everything, again.

It’s really unbelieveable how each year this happens, no matter how much we will it not to.  Thanksgiving arrives in late November as it always reliably does, and from the moment that last bite of turkey is washed down with that last sip of spiked cider, the world eagerly springs into holiday overdrive.  Bows of holly festoon every last inch of public space, catalogues and store coupons glut mailboxes, and songs of turtle doves and pear trees are tirelessly looped on end.

By no means am I looking to sound Scrooge-esque here; I absolutely adore this time of year, and must admit that even when I hear aforementioned songs and see aforementioned holly just a bit too early, I still feel that giddy rumble of excitement deep in my core.  It’s just that the five short weeks that embody our holiday season fly by so fast, it can be hard to tackle every project, craft every card, and bake every treat.  This season I managed to eek out a few rounds of one of my favorite holiday sweets, the Christmas cookie.

Ah, the Christmas cookie.  An iconic sweet denizen of the Wintertime holiday dessert table, it’s one of the very first treats that springs to mind when I think of the holidays.  For such a diminutive confection, it articulates itself in countless varieties of shapes, sizes, and flavors, giving you ample room for choice and margin for creativity.  This year, for a friend’s cookie party I tried out a favorite recipe from a favorite bakery (recipe to come), and for our holiday party decided on these twinkling little lemon guys that caught my eye while I was flipping through the December issue of Martha Stewart.  I was a bit wary as I read through the instructions, as they were very succinct and simple – and, if there is one thing I know about Martha, it’s that she has a tendency to make perfection look easy breezy, and then hooks you with a near impossible to recreate recipe.

This time thankfully Martha pulled through, and I had a recipe that was neither fussy nor too time consuming.  These darling little lemon cookies are just slightly sweet and literally bursting with fresh lemon flavor from piles of fluffy zest that are added to the batter.  They bake up into tiny little circles with gently domed tops, and the bottoms take on the loveliest light golden color.

Unadorned these cookies are good, if a bit plain, but after you swathe them in a sticky sweet lemony glaze they are taken over the top.  The glaze dries and hardens into a sweet but still soft shell, and the contrast between the more mildly flavored cookie is utter perfection.  I don’t generally think of lemon cookies when I think of Christmas, and that is what is so perfect about these; they are refreshing and light, and a perfect foil to all of the heavier, more decadent treats on the table.  A smattering of edible glitter (found here) makes these really special, and their sparkly decadence fit in perfectly with all of the other holiday treats.

Sparkly Lemon Cookies
Makes 40 small cookies
From Martha Stewart Living, December 2011

A few things to note: the dough that this creates is thick and a bit sticky.  It was not difficult to use the pastry bag, but I did find that I needed to use my finger to help break the piped cookie away from the piping bag and then to tamp down any jagged peaks that this created.  Also, my cookies baked very quickly.  These are delicate and you do not want to burn them, so be sure to keep an eye on them and pull them when the tops are just set and the bottoms are a pale golden brown.  Finally, this made a ton of glaze.  Although delicious, next time I will eyeball it and make much less, or plan to make a bundt or pound cake the same day that would benefit from it so it doesn’t go to waste.

2 cups all-purpose flour
salt
1 stick plus 2 1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature
1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
3 lemons, zested and juiced (1/3 cup juice)
2 large eggs
1/4 cup whole milk
2 3/4 cups confectioners’ sugar
star-shaped edible glitter or coarse sanding sugar, for sprinkling (optional, found here)

Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Whisk together flour and 1/4 teaspoon salt in a small bowl.  Beat butter, granulated sugar, and lemon zest with a mixer on medium speed until pale and fluffy, about 10 minutes. (10 minutes is longer than you think; be sure to time this step as it is crucial in creating the right texture for the cookie.  Be patient.).  Beat in eggs. Reduce speed to low, and gradually beat in flour mixture. Slowly add milk, and beat on medium speed for 5 minutes.

Transfer dough to a pastry bag fitted with a 1/2-inch plain round tip. It will be on the thicker side.  Pipe it into  1 1/2-inch rounds onto parchment-lined baking sheets, tamping down any harsh peaks that remain with a flour dipped fingertip. Bake until bottoms are pale gold, 16 to 18 minutes (I found that mine took closer to 14-15 minutes, but I am baking at a high altitude).   Let cool completely on sheets set on wire racks.

Whisk together the confectioners’ sugar and lemon juice in a small bowl until smooth to make the glaze.  Brush the glaze onto the cookies, and sprinkle with edible glitter.

Martha says these can be stored for 3 days, but we were happily munching on them 7 days later and they were awesome.  Just keep them in a sealed tupperware container at room temperature, and they shouldn’t dry out.

fancy for a friday: grapefruit brulee

In high school,  up, I was fortunate enough to have an amazing Mother who woke up early to have breakfast in the works while I was still grumbling and battling my second snooze cycle.  As it is in most homes, in the twenty harried minutes that exist from the moment a teenager begrudgingly rolls out of bed to the moment their newly licensed selves bolt out the door, it’s a feat to get anything into their mouths, let alone a balanced breakfast.  Somehow I always had something tasty in my hand, even though I was consistently 10 minutes behind schedule and searching high and low for my swim cap, my car keys, or my powder-puff football t-shirt.

This gesture of course I can only fully appreciate now; back then, I didn’t realize just how nice it was to have buttered cinnamon raisin toast, fresh orange juice, bagels with cream cheese, yogurt and fruit, and the occasional fluffy waffle ready waiting for me to grab and go.  It was only after settling into the corporate world and trading in Mom’s simple yet sturdy breakfasts for the less nutritionally sound street-cart coffee with skim milk – twice in as many hours – that it sunk in just how good I had it.  A proper breakfast at home before heading off to the office?  Not a chance! Not when skipping it means an extra fifteen minutes of desperately needed shut-eye, my friends.

One thing that consistently graced our breakfast table on weekdays or otherwise, were juicy halves of pink grapefruit.  This in itself might not sound that special, but you see in these grapefruits, the cuts were already made between the peel and the membranes.  It takes a special person to have the patience to properly cut a grapefruit, because let’s face it – it’s a total pain in the ass.  You must first dig out that funny little crooked knife, and then have the willingness to endure squirts of acidic juice assailing your eyeballs as you carefully and painstakingly separate the flesh from the membranes, all while taking care not to puncture the slippery peel.  Serenity now!!  

I love grapefruits, but never view them in the same ‘quick and easy’ category as their other citrus counterparts for this very reason.  I realize too that grapefruits can elicit all sorts of negative reactions from people – they have that either you love’em or hate’em thing going on.   Although one of my favorite ways to enjoy them is straight up (and, ahem, preferably already cut – thanks Mom!) I’ve been making this slightly fancier version for myself, and think not only does justify the extra few minutes of prep time, but also that it could just be the thing to convert non-lovers into fanatics.

Grapefruit brulee is deceptively simple – you’ll need a chilled grapefruit, some brown sugar, and a hot broiler (or kitchen torch, if you are really well appointed in that arena).  After sprinkling said sugar and a bit of cinnamon atop the scored and prepped grapefruit halves, you place them under the broiler for 3-4 minutes, until the sugar has melted and caramelized slightly, the fruit is warm, and the edges of the grapefruit are just slightly singed.

Before you shrug this off as disgusting – and I know that hot grapefruit doesn’t exactly sound appealing – just try it first.  It’s a perfect way to turn a cool Summertime breakfast into something decidedly wintery, and, at least for me, anything warm to start a frigid single-digit morning off is a welcomed thing.  The chilled grapefruit stands up to the heat, with the top layer becoming warm, sweet, and juicy and the bottom retaining that refreshing aspect.  The sugar melts into a caramelly layer, and though you aren’t using much the heat helps it to spread and permeate into the separated fruit.  I suspect even grapefruit skeptics would give this a whirl, and I’d be shocked if they too weren’t pleasantly surprised.

It’s simplicity belies that it truly is something special, and would be perfect for a fancy brunch or even as a very light dessert, with a scoop of citrus sorbet perched atop.  Of course there is nothing to stop you from waking up just a few minutes early and making your weekday feel like something a bit more exciting; a little goes a long way in that regard, and on a chilly morning grapefruit brulee and a mug of hot chai is not to be underestimated.

Grapefruit Brulee
Serves 1, or 2 with 1/2 each

If you like, you can dot the top of each grapefruit with a bit of butter before you broil, to yield a richer result. For me, the brown sugar and cinnamon, once warmed and bubbly, are plenty enough.

For easier cleanup, slip a piece of parchment under the grapefruits before passing them under the heat. I of course did not do this, and spent a good few minutes scrubbing melted sugar out of my pan. Don’t be like me.

1 grapefruit
1 tbsp brown sugar
pinch of cinnamon
pinch flaky sea salt (preferably Maldon)

Preheat the broiler to high. Cut a small layer off of the bottom of each end of the grapefruit, being careful not to cut through the peel and into the fruit, so it will sit flat in a pan. Cut the grapefruit in half horizontally, and using a grapefruit knife (or regular serrated knife) cut around the edges of the grapefruit and between the membrane to loosen the segments of fruit.

Sprinkle the brown sugar evenly between the two halves, placing a half a tablespoon on each half. Spread the sugar around into an even layer, and sprinkle a pinch of cinnamon over each. Place the grapefruits in a small pan, and place underneath the broiler for 2-4 minutes, keeping a watchful eye, until the sugar is melted and light brown in spots.

Sprinkle a tiny pinch of sea salt on each grapefruit half, and serve immediately, while still warm.

one hundred times over & better than i even imagined: coq au vin with potato parsnip puree

This post is a bit more special than any other post to date, for reasons that are threefold:

1. I received a Vitamix (!) for Christmas from my incredibly kind Mother-in-law.
2. This is my 100th post.
3. I finally made a recipe that I had promised my better half for 2+ years.

Singularly, I think we can all agree that any of these things are reason to crack open a bottle of bubbly .  To start, I’ve been lusting over a Vitamix blender for years – to the end that I fawned over them at least on a weekly basis and forced the husband to watch endless YouTube demonstrations on their magical abilities.  Each time I would make a puree or soup, I would lament that although good, they just weren’t as smooth as they could be.  Well times they are a-changin‘ around here, and the days of crying over graininess or errant lumps in anything I have processed within an inch of it’s life are over, and I am so thankful and happy.  (Thank you Izzi!)

Second, this is my 100th (one-hundredth!) post!  For months I have watched the little post-tally-er on my sidebar slowly taunt me, for when it felt that I had already hit ‘Publish’ at least a hundred times, it scoffed and mwah-ha-ha’d at me, flashing numbers like “64th” and “71st” for what felt like months on end.  I have to admit, I’m pleased to have made that sucker read into the triple digits before twenty-twelve graced us with her presence.

And last, but most certainly not in the least, I have finally, finally, finally made a classic French recipe that I have been begged and pleaded for for over two years.  You see, there has been a mythical recipe floating around these parts that goes by the name ‘Coq au Vin.’  I don’t recall James nor I had ever having eaten a proper rendition of this unicorn recipe, but something about the name tugged at his heartstrings, and whenever we would discuss what to try next, a hopeful “Coq au Vin” was predictably his answer – every.single.time.

I started and ended my search for the perfect recipe with a French cookbook that has never led me astray in the past: The Balthazar Cookbook.  For those that have never lived in New York or been lucky enough to have been directed there while on vacation, Balthazar is a French brasserie in SoHo, run by famed restauranteur and culinary magnate Keith McNally.  It was one of the very first ‘fancy’ restaurants I dined at while still a young trading assistant, and though there are many, many fine French restaurants in New York, I’ve always had a soft spot for this more casual one.  With it’s popularity of course came crowds, long lines of tourists, and the unfortunate loss of it’s ’boutique’ feeling, but even still, I’ve never had a bad meal there.

The cookbook is surprisingly approachable, which I think alone in itself is a feat for French cooking.  The recipe I found within for Coq au Vin was no exception; outside of the time factor (which admittedly is lengthy), no part of the recipe is one that even a novice cook could not manage.  This is not a dish for a hurried weeknight; however with an overnight marinade, a bit of patience, and a few extra glasses of wine to lead you through the process, you are handsomely, and fantastically, rewarded.

For me, as for I suspect many home cooks, the enjoyment and ritual of prepping, chopping, and sauteing is only part of the reason why I love to be in the kitchen so much.  An even bigger piece of that enjoyment puzzle is watching my dear friends and loved ones savor and appreciate something that I have created just for them.  So much of that goes back to why I named this blog; you can just eat, or you can truly eat and relish every last bite.

And so it comes back to Coq au Vin, something which I actually feared may have built itself up just a bit too much.  Very literally,  coq au vin translates to ‘rooster in wine,’ and is a traditional French dish whereupon old stewing hen or rooster (or now, more commonly and thankfully, chicken) is braised in wine with vegetables, lardons, mushrooms, and onions.  Very simple and plain sounding really – and from outward appearances, maybe not even something worth all of our hoopla.

These things after all do have a tendency to get ahead of themselves at times, and I’ll admit that although I knew the final product would be delicious – how amazing could stewed chicken really be, anyway?  As I stood the evening before preparing the chicken, carrots, onions, and garlic for their twenty-four hour wine and herb bath, James sniffed around and inquired about every ingredient on the cutting board.  He returned home from work the following day, and ‘checked’ on the marinating concoction, even though it was sitting in exactly the same position I had left it at the night before.

When it finally came time to cook, I setup shop in the kitchen, and rustled up a husband, a pug, and an extra glass of wine to keep me company during the next couple hours of prep.  We seared, we stirred, we reduced, and we simmered; we combined, we strained, we re-combined, and we simmered once more.  Though there are quite a few steps involved, as I said before, none at all are complicated, and suddenly we were faced, finally, with a big, bubbling, cauldron of proper Coq au Vin.

I whipped up a puree of parsnips and potatoes in my new (amazing) Vitamix, and the silken texture was the perfect base upon which to nuzzle a rich saucy chicken leg, velvety mushrooms, and tender onions.  We sat down to eat, and that familiar quietness overtook the room where you just know means you’ve got something special on your hands.  James looked up at me with a huge grin, and said between mouthfuls “you know, I’ve always envisioned how coq au vin would taste, and I’ve even thought it to be just like this…but this…..this is even better than I ever imagined.”

This, my friends, is one tasty dish.  It ranks up there with some of my most favorite things I have ever made, and will definitely be squeezing itself in to be made at least a few times a year.  The chicken is fall-off-the-bone tender, and the wine based sauce is thick, luscious, and deeply flavored.  The ingredients are neither fancy nor expensive, and although I would not venture to call this healthy, there is no butter, cream, or cheese involved, with the richness coming instead from the long braise, bold flavors, and repeated reducing.

It is also one of those wonderful things that can be made ahead of time and reheated; the flavor of the sauce and texture of the chicken will only improve with time, and knowing that I will be treated to this again tonight (with no dishes to boot!) is a really fantastic thing.  I implore you to make this for your next dinner party, fancy shindig, loved one’s birthday, or lazy saturday.

Trust me — it is as good as it looks.

Coq au Vin with Potato Parsnip Puree
Coq au Vin Adapted just barely from The Balthazar Cookbook;
Parsnip and Potato Puree my own recipe
Serves 4, or 2 with leftovers for the next night

The author states “Though currently synonymous with chicken, Coq au Vin was originally made by braising the meat from a sinewy old rooster in cheap red wine for a long period of time.” I think we can all breathe a sigh of relief that chicken is the preferred meat….a sinewy old rooster just doesn’t have the same delicious ring to it, no?

I made a few changes here: I upped the tomato paste (up to 3 Tbsp from 2), for my bouquet garni I simply used thyme, rosemary, and 2 bay leaves, I used beef stock in place of the called for veal stock, and I completely omitted the parsley, which they suggest stirring in at the end (I do not generally keep parsley on hand as I am not wild about it). The book specifies to use domestic mushrooms, but next time I think I will try a mixture of chanterelle, shiitake, button, and cinnamon caps – just for fun and a change of texture.

Season each layer and component with salt and pepper, but be careful when seasoning the sauce; as it reduces the flavors will intensify, and if you flavor the sauce to your liking before reducing, the end result may be too salty/concentrated. I recommend salting each step (ie, salt the chicken, vegetables, mushrooms, onions, etc) to ensure that you have layers of flavor, but then waiting until just before serving to adjust the salt level of the actual sauce.

4 large chicken legs (I used 5, to have ample leftovers)
1 large yellow onion, cut into 1cm dice
1 large carrot, cut into 1cm dice
2 celery stalks, cut into medium dice
1 head of garlic, halved horizontally
1 bottle of red wine
1 bouquet garni
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
4 tablespoons olive oil
3 tablespoons tomato paste
3 tablespoons plain flour
3 cups beef stock
1 pint pearl onions, peeled (I used a frozen bag of them – much easier than peeling those tiny things)
1/2 lb thick cut smoked bacon, cut into a dice
1 lb small button mushrooms

parsnip and potato puree
3 large or 5 medium parsnips, peeled and cubed
2 medium yukon gold potatoes, peeled and cubed
milk (1%, 2%, or whole) – about 2 cups
water

tools – large dutch oven with a lid

In a large bowl, combine the chicken legs, onion, carrot, celery, garlic, wine and bouquet garni. Cover with cling film and refrigerate for 24 to 36 hours (I had mine marinating for almost 24 hours exactly).

Remove the legs from the marinade and set to the side. Strain the vegetables from the marinade, reserving the liquid marinade and marinated vegetables separately. The legs will have a deep purple hue from the wine; season them liberally with salt and pepper.

Heat the olive oil in a large dutch oven or heavy bottomed pot. When it begins to smoke, add the legs skin side down, in batches if necessary, being sure not to crowd the pan – I . Brown evenly and deeply on all sides, about 8 minutes per side – do not skimp on this step, as there is where a lot of the finished flavor will come from. Set the finished legs to the side on a plate and discard the oil; replenish it between batches as necessary.

When you have finished browning the legs, reduce the heat to medium and add the reserved vegetables to the pot. Cook until they soften and begin to brown, about 5 to 8 minutes. Stir in the tomato paste and cook for about 2 minutes, then add the flour, stirring again for about 2 minutes. Add the reserved wine marinade and, as it bubbles up, use a wooden spoon to scrape the bottom of the pot and incorporate any flavourful bits into the broth. Simmer until the liquid has reduced by half, about 20 to 25 minutes, then add in the stock.  As it reaches the boil, add in the seared chicken legs and any accumulated juices, reduce the heat to low, and cover the pot.  Maintain a slow and gentle simmer on the lowest temperature setting for 1 hour, at which point the meat should be meltingly tender and come easily off the bone when pried with a fork.

Meanwhile, prepare the rest of the ingredients: blanch the pearl onions in boiling water for 5 to 7 minutes, until tender (I used frozen which are already peeled & therefore did not need to do this step), and drain and set aside. Cook the bacon in a dry frying pan over a medium heat until brown, about 10 minutes, then remove with a slotted spoon. Add the mushrooms to the pan and the now very hot rendered bacon fat, and saute, tossing frequently, until they are golden brown, about 8 minutes. When they are golden brown, remove them with a slotted spoon and reserve to the side. Add the blanched pearl onions (or simply add the frozen pearl onions straight to the pan) to the pan, sautéing until they too are brown, about 5 minutes. Reserve to the side, in the same bowl as the mushrooms.

Prepare the puree. Place the peeled and cubed potatoes and parsnips into a saucepan. Cover with a combination of milk and water, about 1/2 of each (you will most likely need 1.5 – 2 cups each water & milk to cover adequately). Bring to a boil, and then reduce to medium high heat to cook until tender (watch the pot carefully, as the milk will give the mixture a tendency to boil over).  When the vegetables are fork tender, about 25 minutes, strain, and reserve the hot milk and water mixture. Puree the potatoes and parsnips in a blender or food processor, adding the reserved liquid to loosen the mixture up as needed, until you have a smooth, silky, puree. Take care not to over process, as the potatoes will become gummy.  Season with salt & pepper to taste, and reserve to the side in the saucepan you cooked them in until ready to plate.  Should you need to warm them up at all, just place the saucepan over medium-low heat, and stir frequently to prevent scorching.

Remove the legs from the braising liquid and strain the contents of the pot, reserving the liquid and discarding the vegetables. Bring the liquid to a strong simmer over medium high heat, and skim the surface of the sauce as it bubbles, removing any visible fat. When the sauce has reduced by half, taste, and adjust for seasoning. Add salt & pepper as necessary (I found that I needed to add a good bit of both at this stage). Return the legs to the pot along with the cooked bacon, the onions, and the mushrooms and simmer for an additional 15 minutes to combine the flavors.

To serve, spoon 1/4 of the parsnip potato puree on each plate. Top with a chicken leg, and then spoon the gravy over the top. Serve immediately.

Inhale & smile!

a favorite, at home: chicken tikka masala

Indian takeout is an elusive creature, sometimes hitting that ever so hard to please ‘spot‘ and other times falling flat on it’s face in a pile of greasy naan bread or non-descript, watery dal.  Even though it genuinely is one of my favorite cuisines, I have never really settled into a place and managed to find my go-to Indian joint that consistently met or exceeded my expectations.  In a place so culturally mashed up as New York City, I know that these places indeed do exist, but with each hopeful voyage into a new restaurant, I would always leave disappointed and unfulfilled.

Sure, there was Tamarind, which always knocked it out of the park (with white tablecloths to boot), and on a very specific stretch of 6th street in the East Village there was always tasty grub to be had, but really we never found our spot for those nights where we were exhausted and craving samosas, and realized our pathetic fridge arsenal amounted to four leaves of wilted lettuce, a nub of last weeks dried out lasagna, and a half eaten container of greek yogurt on the brink of expiration.  (You feel me on this one, right?) 

Here in be-ay-yoo-tiful Boulder we are lucky to have a Nepalese place straight down 9th Street perched on the far West reaches of Walnut Street – and a damn good one at that.  Sherpa’s is a casual place that we visited a few times last Summer, to take advantage of their killer happy hour ($2 local brews) and lax outdoor seating policy (I think they actually pretend not to see the Pug begging in the middle of the enclosed patio).  No, it’s not exactly Indian per se, but a lot of the dishes on their menu fill that crossover nicely.  Enter chicken tikka masala: I’d be lying if I told you that my favorite Indian dish wasn’t tikka masala – though I’m not sure how actually ‘Indian‘ it really is.  I suspect it is something akin to the favorite Chinese ‘orange chicken’ dish we Americans are so fond of – delicious, yes…authentic, not so much.

Regardless, finding a good tikka masala – that is, a dish of tikka masala that does not have a landslide of grease perched atop it, with a nice thick redish-pink sauce spotted with fresh vegetables, and that does not contain any suspect bites of chicken (which in turn, will throw me off of the whole thing entirely) – is easier said than done.  Sure I’ve had delicious tikka masala dining out (and they have a pretty good rendition at Sherpa’s), but really the only way to keep an eye on quality control and come out with a perfect end product is making it yourself.

This version of tikka masala does require just a teeny bit of forethought – which is marinating the chicken thighs in a delicious mix of citrus, spicy pepper, and herbs for 2-8 hours – but the rest of the preparation is simple enough for a weeknight.  The marinating is essential and absolutely imparts the chicken with a fresh flavor; toss it together in the morning, during a few spare moments in the afternoon, or even only a couple of hours before dinner – any marinating will make a difference.  After the chicken is marinated, the rest is a breeze: broil the chicken, sautee the veggies, make the cream sauce, and stir together.  Since we already know tikka masala is not exactly the, err,  lightest dish, I love that this recipe uses just a tiny bit of extra oil and that the chicken is baked.  We have to at least pretend to behave here.

I use organic chicken thighs, and add in a chopped bell pepper for crunch and a flavor contrast that I think goes really well with the cream and tomato.  This is sooo much better than any takeout; the freshness of your ingredients will really shine through, and the addition of fresh cilantro (or basil if you are one of those people that thinks cilantro tastes like soap…weirdos) cuts through the cream and keeps the whole thing from becoming murky.

For all of you tikka masala lovers….do I even need to tell you how this tastes?!  Creamy, slightly spicy, savory, and warm – truly this dish is a hug in a bowl.  I ladle up big bowls of this over whole wheat jasmine rice, and serve it with lime wedges and sriracha on the side.  It really is like takeout elevated to another level, and is equally at home on a Thursday night spend padding around in your pjs as it is as anchoring a dinner party spread.  It might be Indian 101 (ahem), but who cares – it is so, so delicious.

Chicken Tikka Masala over Jasmine Rice
Adapted from The Illustrated Kitchen Bible from Victoria Blashford-Snell
Serves 4 (or two with leftovers)

I used this recipe as a guide, making the following changes: I upped the amount of lemon & lime juice called for, upped the cumin from 1 tsp to 1 tbsp, added in the chopped red pepper (for texture and crunch), upped the cream to 1 1/2 cups from 1 1/4 cups, and doubled the tomato paste called for (to give a deeper tomato flavor and rich red color). I also recommend cooking the chicken completely through in the oven (she cooks it almost all the way and then finishes it in the sauce), and I like to chop the chicken into bite sized pieces to make eating it without a knife easier (she does not).

I’ll note that this would be awesome with other proteins as well – shrimp or tofu come to mind (just marinate in chicken marinade for 30 minutes, then toss into the warm sauce to cook through) and I think the addition of some other non-traditional vegetables (mushrooms, asparagus, zucchini) would all work well too.

This is really a very good dish, and one that is great to make ahead. You could easily make this a day prior and reheat before serving – the spices have a chance to meld & mellow that way, and the chicken stays juicy as it is a thigh cut (vs reheating a drier breast cut).  I prefer whole wheat jasmine rice, just to sneak in some extra nutrients.  Organic chicken will only enhance the quality and flavor of the dish, and organic thighs are still very cheap (and more flavorful!) compared to breasts.

8 skinless and boneless chicken thighs, trimmed of visible excess fat
2 garlic cloves
1 inch (2.5cm) piece of fresh ginger, peeled and grated
Juice of 1 lime + lime wedges for serving
1 fresh hot red chile, seeded
2 tbsp chopped cilantro, plus more to garnish
2 tbsp vegetable oil
1 red onion, chopped
1 red bell pepper, chopped
1 tsp ground turmeric
1 Tbsp ground cumin
1 1/2 cups heavy cream
2 Tbsp tomato paste
Juice of 1 lemon
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
pinch cayenne pepper (optional)

rice (follow package instructions, but below is a basic outline of how I cook it)
1 1/2 cups whole wheat or white Jasmine rice
just over 1 3/4 cups water

sriracha sauce for serving (optional)

Place the chicken thighs in a single layer in a shallow dish and season with salt & pepper. Purèe the garlic, ginger, lime juice, chile, cilantro and 1 tbsp of the oil in a food processor. Spread over the chicken. Cover and refrigerate for at least 2 and up to 8 hours.

In a large saute pan, heat the remaining oil over medium-high heat. Add the onion and cook, stirring occasionally, for about 4 minutes, until it is translucent and beginning to brown. Add in the chopped red pepper, and cook for another 2 minutes, until the pepper is crisp tender. Season the vegetables with salt & pepper, stir in the turmeric and cumin, and cook for 30 seconds, until the spices are toasty and fragrant. Remove the pan from the heat.

Preheat the broiler to medium/high. Line a baking sheet with foil, and nestle a cooling rack into the pan (this will keep the chicken elevated and allow the air to circulate better). Remove the chicken from the marinade (reserving the marinade) and place on the rack in the pan. Broil, turning occasionally, about 5 minutes (I found that mine took closer to 10 minutes to be fully cooked), until the chicken is singed on the edges and cooked through. Roughly chop the chicken into bite sized pieces.

Make the rice. Bring the rice and water to a boil over high heat, uncovered. Once boiling, reduce the heat to a simmer on the lowest heat setting, and cover. Simmer the rice for about 20 minutes, until it is tender and cooked through. Let sit for 10 minutes, and fluff before serving.

While the chicken cooks, return the onion mixture to medium high heat. Add in the reserved marinade, and stir for 1 minute, until the garlic is fragrant. Stir in the cream, tomato paste, and lemon juice, and bring to a boil over high heat, stirring very often, until the sauce is thickened and coats the back of a spoon, about 2 minutes. Season the sauce with salt and cayenne pepper (optional) to taste, add in the chopped chicken, and reduce the heat to medium. Simmer over medium heat for 2 minutes to just to incorporate the flavors and heat the chicken (your chicken should be cooked all the way through already). Taste and adjust salt and pepper.

To serve, mound 1/4 of the rice in each of 4 bowls, and top with a heaping scoop of the hot tikka masala. Sprinkle each bowl with cilantro, and serve immediately with sriracha sauce and lime wedges passed on the side, if desired.

an addictive sweet treat: chocolate caramel crackers

Three years ago, my now sister-in-law came over to our itty-bitty twenty-second floor apartment in Greenwich Village to share presents and enjoy an early Christmas dinner with us.  In our teeny galley kitchen we were balancing plates and juggling the ingredients for the proper three course holiday meal, that I can still remember as clearly as if it were yesterday.

Back when co-habitating in ‘sin’ in that very first apartment, when it came to elbow room in the kitchen — we weren’t working with much (and even that’s being generous).  For if you opened the oven door whilst standing in the teeny galley setup, you became trapped inside all of it’s steamy minute-square-footage glory, and fuggedabout about opening the fridge or dishwasher if you had kitchen company – the space allowed for operating strictly on a one-in-one-out basis.

Even so, we were not deterred in our mission to host a lovely holiday meal.  I had set the cheese plate (carefully curated by moi) teetering out on the living room chest that not only held extra blankets, but moonlighted as our dinner table.  I had perfectly balanced the salad bowl atop the toaster oven to stand in waiting until his turn, and had seared the lamb chops that we had splurged on from the local butcher on a grill pan after marinating them in rosemary and garlic.  I had baked a lemon cake earlier that afternoon which we nestled amongst bottles of red on top of the fridge, and there was a melange of sweet potatoes and cream simmering on the back corner of the stovetop.  All in, I thought a far more sophisticated menu than our set-up alluded to.

Of course nothing can be that perfect when you are twenty-five and still navigating the mostly yet uncharted waters of domesticity – in a shoebox, no less.  I, the uber-excited-host, lost track of time while sipping white wine and chatting up our guest, leaving the potatoes to simmer down to something less ‘melange‘ and more ‘morose.’  I neglected to think about washing and ironing our new linen napkins, leaving them perma-creased and rough enough to take the skin off your chin with one swipe (nevermind that said napkins were light pink – more Easter than Christmas, but a minor detail, no?).  And finally halfway through chop-searing, our pesky fire alarm decided to sound off, reminding us for at least ten solid minutes that it was smoky in our tiny abode.  As if we couldn’t already tell.

However in the end, our little dinner was perfect.  Despite the melange making it’s way straight to the gar-bage, the lamb chops were perfectly cooked and the cake was light and lemony – I suppose all things considered the main course and dessert are the two most important components at the end of the day anyway.  But what really stood out that night was a most curious looking little bag of treats that my future-sister-in-law had brought with her – jagged little toffee-brittle looking cookies that she insisted were very simple to make.

After inhaling no less than 5 extra large pieces (and at least 3 more at the end of the evening while I finished scrubbing aforementioned grill pan) I was completely hooked, and intrigued.  What were these things?? From outward appearances I could deduce that there was a cracker – a saltine even – involved as the bottom layer, with a layer of bittersweet chocolate blanketing the top.  The middle had some sort of magical salty-sweet caramel holding it all together, that had seeped through and around the crackers, crusting up inside of all of the holes and transforming them into something otherworldly.

After a bit of internet sleuthing, I came upon a recipe on Smitten Kitchen that fit their description perfectly: Chocolate Caramel Crack(ers) where Deb lovingly refers to them as ‘crack‘ both for the crackers, but also for the more sinister and addictive stuff that they liken themselves to as you uncontrollably go back for thirds, fourths — and fifths.  

These are soooo sinfully good – they taste like a souped up hybrid of a Twix bar and a Heath bar, but still retain that homemade edge and goodness that any of that store bought junk just can’t hold a candle to.  One look at the butter and sugar content and undoubtably you will be scrambling for your sneakers and gym pass, but let’s just shelve those thoughts until after the holidays, shall we?  These cracker/cookies are so, so easy to make with things that most pantries are already stocked with – brown sugar, butter, saltines, and chocolate chips.  With something so insanely good coming from something so simple, this is a great recipe to have on hand for impromptu gatherings or holiday cookie parties when you already have too many other things on your plate (late holiday shopper who?)  or just want to make something really decadent, really fast.

Make these today – you’ll thank me tomorrow!

Chocolate Caramel Crackers
From Smitten Kitchen by way of David Lebovitz by way of Marcy Goldman

Approx 40 Saltine crackers (I find I need 1.5 sleeves for my sheet pan) or 4-6 sheets matzo
1 cup (2 sticks or 8 ounces) unsalted butter, cut into Tbsp sized pieces
1 cup packed light brown sugar
A big pinch of sea salt (I use Maldon)
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups semi- or bittersweet chocolate chips (or chopped bitter- or semisweet chocolate)
Extra sea salt for sprinkling (optional)

tools – one 11 x 17″ rimmed baking sheet (or two smaller jelly roll sheets)

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Line an 11-by-17-inch rimmed baking sheet completely with foil, and then line the base of the foil with parchment paper, cut to fit in the bottom of the pan. The parchment is key, as it will prevent sticking (and this is sticky stuff).

Line the bottom of the baking sheet with the crackers or matzo, covering all parts. (If using matzo, you’ll need to break pieces to fit any extra spaces.)

In a medium heavy-duty saucepan, melt the butter and brown sugar together, and stir it over medium heat until it begins to boil. Once it has begun boiling, let it bubble for three more minutes, stirring it well the entire time to prevent burning. It will thicken a bit as it cooks. Remove it from the heat and stir in the salt and vanilla, and then quickly pour the mixture over the crackers or matzo. Spread the mixture quickly over the crackers to cover the entire surface area of crackers. Do this quickly, as it will begin to set and harden quickly.

Bake the caramel-covered crackers for 15 minutes, watching carefully as it will bubble and the corners might darken too quickly and/or burn — reduce the heat if you see this happening.

Remove from oven and immediately cover the baked caramel crackers with chocolate chips. Let it stand five minutes, and then spread the chips evenly across the caramel – they will be melted and it will be surprisingly easy to do so. Sprinkle the surface with a bit of sea salt (but also remember Saltines are already salty & Matzo is not, so use more salt if using Matzo // less if using Saltines, depending on how salty you like things).

Once completely cool (this can be sped up in the fridge, or if you are like me, out on the deck on a cold December Colorado morning), break the sheet up into pieces and store in a ziplock or plastic container in the fridge.

It will keep for at least a week in the fridge.