Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Irish Steamed Chocolate Pudding

I did not do the chocolate mint pudding for Christmas, as I intended, but I did to my old reliable steamed chocolate pudding. This requires semi-sweet chocolate, but do not skimp on it and go with the Nestlés – this is a great place to use the good stuff. The end product is really dependent on the quality of the chocolate used. Warm from the kettle this is deeply decadent.

Irish Steamed Chocolate Pudding

Ingredients:

  • 9 ounces semisweet chocolate
  • 3/4 cup butter
  • 6 eggs, separated
  • 1 cup granulated sugar, divided
  • 1/4 cup all-purpose flour

Method:


  1. Fill the kettle and set it on to boil.
  2. Melt the chocolate and butter together; set aside.
  3. Beat the egg whites until foamy, gradually add 1/2 cup sugar (still beating), then beat to soft peaks; set aside.
  4. Beat the egg yolks, gradually adding the remaining sugar. Continue beating until the mixture has about tripled in volume, and the sugar is dissolved. The yolks should look light yellow.
  5. Add the chocolate mix to the yolks, beating until blended. Then add the flour, beating on low speed until thoroughly mixed. Fold the mixture into the egg whites. When completely mixed, pour into a very well greased 7 cup pudding basin, or a bowl suitable for use on the stove. If using the bowl, construct a lid as follows: Cut a piece of wax paper large enough to cover the bowl, with some excess for folding. Fold a 1-inch pleat in the middle of the wax paper. Do the same with a piece of aluminum foil. Cover the bowl with the wax paper, then with the foil, lining up the pleats. Secure with kitchen twine; cut off any excess. You may wish to construct a lifter out of twine, or you can use two spatulas to lift the pudding.
  6. Pour about two inches of water into a pot large enough to fit your pudding basin. Place the basin inside and cover the pot. Keep the water in the pot boiling for about 1 1/2 to 2 hours. (You will need to add more boiling water from the kettle from time to time.) The pudding will be firm and cake-like on top when it is finished. If you are not sure, boil it longer, as it can't be overdone. Once it is ready, let it cool for a few minutes in the basin, then turn it out on a plate.
  7. Serve warm or let it "age" in an airtight container, which will enhance the flavor.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Bûches de Noël


It is the season of Advent, and Christmas will soon be upon us. I will refrain from political rants until after the first of the year and reserve my opinions to food.

And why not? Historically, the breaking of bread with others was a means of making peace. The table was a place for conversations – conversations among families, among diplomats and among kings and princes. Food is a primal need, and at the dinner table, we are all equals. We speak reasonably at the dinner table for fear of being banished. We offer sustenance to others there, and we accept it from them too whether they are strangers, friends or family. We are vulnerable at the dinner table too and we must put our guard down in order to partake in this ritual. And it is a ritual – a joyous ritual of feasting, sharing the same Latin root word as "festival".

We are in our season of feasts and festivals, a rare time when we return to the dinner table and bask in the warmth of our loved ones. Some brilliant Teutonic baker in times gone by decided to celebrate the Yule by reproducing a mighty fire-log in the form of a wonderful chocolate confection. Often these Yule Logs are simple, cartoonish affairs, and they are quite lovely and delicious. At the hands of a master, however, the Yule Log is transformed. It is a rare time when a baker with a sense of humor can go a bit wild. I have seen Yule Logs that look like vast fallen branches, moldering in the forest damp, complete with entirely realistic white chocolate and marzipan fungus and worms about. The dusting of cocoa reinforces the realism of the dull, dirty log. These are amazing things.

The French, contrariwise, elevate the Yule Log to something. . . well. . . French. In the United States we often malign the French. Personally, I loathe the current political climate of the nation of France, but I have always loved the Gallic people. And, particularly, I love their ability with food as art. And clothing as art. And women as art.

Recently, whilst looking for ideas for decorating Yule Logs, I found the one pictured above. Designed by men's clothing designer Alexis Mabille and executed by a brilliant Parisian bakery, this Bûche de Noël will put you back about €80 - $118 at today's exchange rate. No, I do not know what it tastes like, but who really cares? It is worth the investment to have something perfect in your life. It is much the same as my argument in favor of owning a Jaeger-Le Coultre watch or a 1929 Bentley – perfection is rare, embrace it.

No, neither this nor a witty reinvention of it will grace my holiday table this year. I see this, and I want to go back to a nice stew. I will leave creations like this to the Bo Fribergs of the world and I, I will eat Oreos.

Joyeux Noël!

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Christmas Puddings

The Christmas season is upon us, and my vision of the holiday celebration includes all things Dickens. Central to the Christmas dinner is, of course, the Christmas Pudding! Traditionally, a Christmas Pudding is a Plumb Pudding, sort of a steamed fruitcake filled with all sorts of candied fruits and sometimes coins. A variant of that is actually called Christmas Pudding, and it is generally the same idea.

If your family is like mine, however, the concept of a cake filled with candied fruits is revolting to them. They would be hard pressed to touch it as a punishment, much less as a celebration of this joyful Holy Day. So what to do? Are we stuck with store-bought pumpkin pies? I say, "No!"

My wife's particular pleasure is chocolate mint. It is one of her favorite flavor combinations. Whilst perusing Anglo-Irish dessert recipes that might be in the spirit of a Dickensian celebration I came across the following, which seems as though it will fill the bill. Furthermore, unlike plumb puddings and Christmas puddings which have to ripen for a month, this one looks as though it might be best served warm out of the mold, so you can have it simmering away on the evening on which you will serve it! This recipe is, as yet, untried by me - I will report back after I attempt it.

Steamed Chocolate Mint Pudding

Ingredients:
• 100g Softened butter
• 100g Golden caster sugar
• 200g Mint fondant chocolate
• 2T Hot water
• 2 eggs, beaten
• 175g Self-rising flour
• 4T Milk
• 200g White chocolate, broken into rough pieces, about 0.5 cm

Method:
1. Cream the butter until pale and fluffy.
2. Place the mint fondant chocolate and hot water in a bowl over a pan of simmering water. Stir until melted and leave to cool for a couple of minutes until cool but not set. Stir the chocolate mixture into the butter and sugar mixture.
3. Beat the eggs, a little at a time. Fold in the flour, adding enough milk to give a soft-dropping consistency. Finally, stir in the white chocolate pieces.
4. Spoon the pudding mixture into a greased 900ml pudding basin. Cover the top of the sponge with a circle of greaseproof paper, seal with aluminum foil and secure with string.
5. Steam the pudding in a saucepan half filled with simmering water for 90 minutes, replenishing the water as it evaporates. You may also use a steamer to cook the pudding.
6. Cool slightly before turning out and serve with clotted cream and a glass of dessert wine.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Rediscovering Beefsteak Pudding

I have long been fascinated by the steamed and boiled puddings of the British Isles. My first exposure to them was via a richly spiced persimmon pudding that Mom made for Thanksgiving or Christmas. Later I experienced rich chocolate and toffee puddings, but I have long been curious about the savory puddings that served as such a staple of the pre-war British diet, so I decided to try it out.

Savory puddings are the antithesis of fast or convenience foods. For unpracticed hands, such as my own, it takes a good 45 minutes to get the pudding prepared. Then it boils for 2 ½ to 4 hours. On a cool autumn day, however, it makes for a delightful, quietly gurgling pot on the back of the stove.

The result of this cooking method, which is a sort of well controlled moist cooking method, is an intensely beef flavored filling in a flaky biscuit crust. As opposed to stews, where meats are immersed in liquid, the pudding filling is relatively dry, though there is a small amount of good beef stock included. The liquid assists in the breakdown of the connective tissues in the beef, rendering it tender and making the sauce rich and toothsome. By limiting the liquid, the flavor of the beef is not diminished, but, rather, is intensified. In a typical American style beef stew, meat is, in essence, boiled with vegetables until everything is a bit mushy. By immersing the meat in a volume of water, the beef flavor is diluted. Beef stew at its very best, such as the classic Southern French Daube Provençal, has a cooking broth that is rich in flavor so even if the beef flavor is diluted a bit, the trade-off is well worth it. The beef may lose some of its "beefiness", but it gains flavors brought by wine, stock, anchovies, olives as well as mirepoix. In the simpler beefsteak pudding we start with the same cut of beef, my personal preference is boneless chuck-eye steak which is rich in flavor and in connective tissue which contributes so well to the broth. Instead of immersing the beef in a cooking liquid, we are creating a closed cooking environment with a very limited volume of liquid. The liquid used is a good quality, rich beef stock. Other elements in the pudding are limited – they may include kidneys, mushrooms or oysters, but vegetables and starches are cooked outside the crust.

The crust itself is a biscuit-like affair. To my surprise, it cooks to a delightful pale brown despite being cooked in the water-bath. The recipe that I used was a pure butter crust, mainly because in my area butter is more readily available than suet. For the next foray I hope to get some suet and do either a true suet crust or, perhaps, part butter and part suet. That said, the butter crust came out quite nicely and lent a rich butter flavor to the finished product.

Here is the recipe that I used. It is Frankensteined from other recipes, but it worked well.

Steamed Steak & Mushroom Pudding

Ingredients:

Crust

  • 2 cups (284 gm) all purpose flour
  • 3/4 tsp (4 ml) salt
  • 2/3 cup (160 gm) butter
  • cold water to mix


 

Filling

  • 2 chopped onions
  • 500 grams chuck-eye steak (or good chuck trim, if you are close to your butcher!)
  • 6 large white button mushrooms or assorted wild mushrooms, quartered
  • 3/4 cup (180 ml) good beef stock
  • 1/2 tsp (3 ml) Worcestershire Sauce
  • 3 tbsp (45 ml) all purpose flour
  • fresh ground black pepper and salt to taste

Method:

Prepare the pastry by cutting the butter into the flour and salt mixture in a bowl until it resembles fine breadcrumbs. Using a fork add cold water gradually and combine to make a dough. Do not over-knead! Sprinkle dough with flour, wrap in waxed paper and refrigerate for 30 minutes.

Sauté the onions in a little oil until tender, then combine with the beef and the mushrooms in a bowl along with the flour and dry seasonings.

Roll the rested dough out to about ¼" thickness and cut out a wedge amounting to ¼ of the total. Line a buttered pudding basin or bowl with the larger part of the pastry and fill with the beef and onion mixture.

Add the Worcestershire sauce and beef stock and top with the remaining pastry and crimp. Cover the top of the pudding with a round of parchment and then seal the top of the bowl with a layer of foil, tied in place with butcher's twine.

The bowl is placed in enough water to come half way up the exterior in a large sauce pot.

Boil for three hours, covered, being careful to keep the water about half way up the basin. When adding water, do so with boiling water so as not to lower the cooking temperature.

Remove the basin from the water and allow it to set for about ten minutes. Invert the basin on service dish, and allow it to stand for another three to five minutes. Carefully tap the basin with a metal spoon and remove from the pudding. If your pudding crust is firmly made, the pudding will stand! If your crust is too tender, it may collapse, but that should not be viewed as a defeat – the pudding will still be excellent.

Kidneys and oysters make lovely additions to a beefsteak pudding. In the case of kidneys, clean them well and leach them in milk for a few hours prior to making the pudding, and put them in with the beef. In the case of oysters, refer to Mrs. Beeton's work on British cookery – shuck half a dozen fresh oysters pour any liquid that they secrete off. Reduce the stock by the amount of the oyster liquor and proceed with the pudding. Cook the oysters enough to plump them just before you serve the pudding, and spoon a few oysters about the plate with the pudding. This is a foodie marriage made in Heaven, and it is suitably delicious for any festivity!

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Steampunk

I have long been fascinated by the Edwardian cult of technology. It was the launch pad from which the twentieth century's rocket of tech was launched. It did not give rise to the automobile, but it allowed the automobile to evolve to its highest forms, both in the high and the low end. The steam locomotive advanced by leaps and bounds and science, in general, took gigantic steps forward. It was in this era that men sprouted wings of wood and silk and took to the air, and monstrous craft, lighter than the air that they glided through, were the promise of the future. Much of what Verne envisioned in Paris in the 20th Century was, in fact, part of Paris at the dawn of the 20th century. This was truly the golden age.

My love of this early twentieth century technology is oft perceived as a fondness of the "Steampunk" genre. It is true, as I have discussed elsewhere, Steampunk had a great deal of potential as a science fiction and design genre at one point, but it has taken a turn for the juvenile and the trashy, which, in my view, has utterly undermined any virtue that it might once have had.

I think that the genre of "Futurism", or the prototypical science fiction of writers such as Jules Verne and H.G. Wells, should not be lumped in with Steampunk, as it often is, because those were works of carefully thought out genius. Within the Steampunk genre, The Difference Engine should be considered a stand-alone work, transcending and inventing the genre as a whole. Everything else in the Steampunk genre is unmitigated crap. Garbage. Sewage. The very worst of the literary dump.

In any case, whilst on a hike in Folsom, California the other day I happened upon a magnificent old iron bridge. It was made by the San Francisco Bridge Works in 1895 and it served as the sole bridge across the American River into Folsom until 1917 when the larger, stone "Rainbow Bridge" was built. At that time the city of Folsom sold the old iron truss bridge to a buyer in Japan, but it was never shipped and it stayed in place until 1930. In that year the State of California bought it to span the Klamath River on Walker Road in Siskiyou County, and there it stayed until 1998. The City of Folsom bought the bridge back in that year, and it was reinstalled here as a foot and bicycle bridge, running next to its replacement.

What really caught my eye about this old bridge is that, from a distance, it is a purely functional span. As one draws closer to it, however, you begin to notice the Edwardian detail – the decorative iron work and the beautiful punched sign declaring the manufacture of the bridge. Once you are really close to foot of the bridge you notice the original signage: "$5 fine for driving over this bridge faster than a walk. $25 fine for driving more than 20 head of horses, 50 head of cattle or 200 sheep, hogs or goats over this bridge at one time." This is a magnificent coalition of technology, art, the modern age and the age gone by. This is what Steampunk should be about.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Corned Beef

So, there I was, surfing the net, searching for some sound advice on how to cook a corned beef in a manner such that it could be sliced into sandwich meat. See, I love corned beef sandwiches more, even, than that American Saint Patrick's Day staple, the Boston Boiled Dinner. In fact, my favorite parts of the corned beef experience are 1) corned beef and Reuben sandwiches and 2) the corned beef hash which, if you are really lucky, comes the next day. The problem with all this is that if you are going to start with a boiled dinner, and if your family consists of more than just you, you need at least two corned beefs to get all this out of it, or you need to plan for your corned beef and only get certain treats out of your one corned beef.

So, anyway, there I was, surfing the net, searching for some sound advice on corned beef cookery, and I found one of the best articles on the subject that I have ever seen in the Cleveland Plain Dealer. It is a very intelligent discussion of the topic and links to some great recipes too. I hope that they keep this article up!

UPDATE: The braised corned beef turned out to be everything I had hoped for! It was moist and delicious, but it sliced satisfactorily and held together nicely for sandwich making. We had two days of first-class Reubens and corned beef hash for breakfast on day three.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

No. 39






I got a lovely email this morning from the owner of an American LaFrance roadster that is pictured in an earlier post in this blog. The car in question is labeled on its yellow petrol tank with a number 39, and it is, in my humble opinion, the best looking LaFrance roadster that I have ever seen. This car is no museum piece, however: It gets 10,000 miles of road work per year traveling across Europe. It has the home-craft quality that makes the LaFrance vehicles stand apart from other Edwardian vehicles, but the craftsmanship appears to be first rate. It is a truly beautiful expression of the Edwardian cult of technology, and it reaffirms my desire to own such a car myself one day.

As a point of interest, the Spitfire in the photos was flown by the LaFrance's owner's father during World War II.

Viva LaFrance!