The crunch and the crumb

It happened quite casually several weeks ago, cycling. A week passed before I realized I had broken a rib. It turns out that ribs are quite fragile and tend to break rather easy. It was around that same time the Momofuku milk bar cookbook arrived in the post, now responsible for my latest addiction. I cannot get enough of the crunch nor the crumb; as the cracking sound of a crunch echoes my aching rib cage it is simultaneously sending frequency waves of pleasure to the rest of me.

I’ve already gone through and made 3 crumbs and 1 crunch featured in the book just this past week so this must be an addiction. crunch. crumb. crumble.

They’re the easiest thing to make, not only in the book, but in the history of ever; they take 2 minutes to mix together and lay on a tray but the result triggers immeasurable pleasure and the smell in the kitchen is criminal.

They go on and in everything from ice cream, cakes and cookies, with pudding, sprinkled on yogurt or simply scoffed down by the bowlful. They'll last about a month if kept in an airtight container in the fridge/ freezer, so you can make plenty in advance and be ready for whatever life throws at you.

I have a sneaky suspicion these will go wonderfully well sprinkled over a buttered slice of bread, a la hagelslag.

It’s the crunch in any dish that adds an element of oomph, that je ne sais quoi quality, a crumbling joy, a crunchy excitement and a crispy pleasure in one mouthful, loud and noisy. The chocolate, milk and birthday crumbs as well as the cereal crunch all share the same highly addictive nature, sweet, salty and crunchy like that. They tap to our primary snacking pleasure gland, the achilles heal of snackers unite, with crumbs thats echo a buttery cake crust (aka the best part of the cake) and crunchy treats that elevate and celebrate the munching of cereals straight from the box.

Here is a link for the chocolate crumb and chocolate crumb cookie Recipes,

here is one for the milk crumbs and

one for the cornflake crunch.

For an older post on Momofuku milk bar's compost cookie click here.

To healed ribs and a crunchy 2012.

Calas and an antitheists Hanukkah

I first heard of Christopher Hitchens when he died. Then I spent the better part of a saturday afternoon watching, listening and reading his lectures and interviews and articles.

Coincidentally with this time of year, Hitchens wrote a fascinating piece on Hanukkah in 2007, offering his alternative interpretation to the supposed victory of light over darkness and, reasonably and rather convincingly, claiming it a the victory of faith over knowledge and free thought and in so, the victory is of darkness over light.

As a firm believer in alternatives myself, I’ve attached a link to the piece here. Its an interesting read if you have a few minutes to spare, are open minded, inquisitive, value free thinking and the importance of asking questions about the world around us even if you think we hold all the answers already. It does not, however, offer a reading as to why we eat fried dough this time of year, every year.

In the spirit of offering alternatives at this particular sizzling season I made traditional Calas, a New Orleans breakfast specialty that is golden brown rice fritters just this side of sweet. Best served warm and freshly fried, the steaming fritters release a festive aroma complimented with a bite- an alternative option to the traditional latkes and doughnuts (and apparently works great with rice leftover from dinner).

Happy holidays, one way or the other.

Calas

Lightly adapted from Marion Cunnungham’s ‘The breakfast book’

Approx. 15 calas

Ingredients

¾ cup water

¼ cup long grain rice like Basmati, Perisan and Jasmine.

½ tsp salt

¼ cup lukewarm water

10g fresh yeast (or 3g active dry yeast)

1 large fresh egg

2½ Tbs sugar

½ tsp lemon zest

½ tsp freshly grated nutmeg

¾ cup all purpose flour

oil, for frying

Serve with: confectioner’s sugar

1. A day earlier: In a medium saucepan boil¾ cup water. Add the rice and salt, reduce to a low flame, cover and cook for 25 minutes (longer then you would do making rice. The rice should melt to a lumpy paste). Strain any remaining water and use a fork to mash the rice.
2. In a small bowl, pour the¼ cup lukewarm water and add the yeast. Stir well and set aside for 5 minutes, until the yeast has fully dissolved in the water.
3. Add the yeast mixture to the mashed rice, cover with plastic wrap and set aside overnight.
4. The next day: in a bowl, beat the egg. Add the sugar, lemon zest, grated nutmeg and ½ cup flour and beat until combined.
5. Add the yeasted rice to the mixture and mix well for 2 minutes.
6. Add the remaining 1q4 cup flour and mix well. Taste and add salt, if needed. Cover and let proof at room temperature for 30 minutes.
7. In a large sauté pan pour oil to about 3-4 cm deep. once hot (but not smoking!) carefully drop batter in heaping tablespoons into the oil, 2-3 at a time. Fry the Calas until golden, about 1 minute for each side. Make sure the oil isn’t too hot as the calas would overfry on the outside and remain raw inside.
8. Using a slotted spoon, remove the Calas from the hot oil to a paper towel.
9. Serve warm, sprinkled with confectioner’s sugar.

Food photography / photography Food

Newton’s law of motion states that every action is an equal and opposite reaction, and if that’s so, it only makes sense that just as Food can be captured through photography, photographic equipment should somehow be made edible. It’s a fine line that separates cookies from existential philosophy and I think I just crossed it.

Sometimes inspiration lies in the most unexpected of places. Cookie cutters, for example. These digital SLR, range finder and Rolleiflex camera cookie cutters (available from this site) were the inspiration for a long overdue homage to the tool that has been my lens to the world and a source of focus and perspective ever since my father handed me a Praktica on my 10^th birthday (which sadly met its demise about 10 years ago on a trip to Barcelona, after sharing space with a bottle of red currant juice that wasn’t screwed properly in my bag).

This is a sweet and baked homage, basic yet powerful, and, true to the early days of photography, it is in black and white.

Chocolate Sugar Cookies with White chocolate filling

I slightly adapted this recipe to bake approx 15 sandwich cookies

Ingredients

1 1/3 cups (175 grams) all purpose flour

3½ Tbs unsweetened Dutch processed cocoa powder

½ tsp ground cinnamon

¼ teaspoon salt

½ teaspoon (4 grams) baking powder

110 grams unsalted butter, room temperature

3/4 cup granulated white sugar

1 large egg

1-2 drops almond extract

100g white chocolate

1. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, cocoa powder, cinnamon, salt, and baking powder.
2. In a separate bowl, either that of an electric mixer or using a hand mixer, cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy, about 3 to 4 minutes.
3. Add the egg and beat well. Add the almond extract and beat until combined.
4. Gradually add the flour mixture and beat until you have a smooth dough.
5. Shape into 2 discs, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for at least 1 hour or until firm enough to roll.
6. Preheat oven to 175C (350F) and line two baking sheets with parchment paper.
7. Remove one half of the chilled dough from the refrigerator and, on a lightly floured surface, roll out the dough to a thickness of 5mm.
8. Lightly flour the cookie cutter and cut out desired shapes. Transfer cookies to the prepared baking sheet.
9. Place the baking sheets with the unbaked cookies in the refrigerator for 10 to 15 minutes to chill the dough, which will prevent the cookies from spreading and losing their shape while baking.
10. Bake until lightly golden, about 10 minutes but do not allow to brown. Transfer to wire racks to cool.
11. Repeat steps 7-10 with the remaining dough.
12. When ready to assemble the cookies, place the chocolate in a double boiler until melted melt.
13. Spread about 1/2 teaspoon of melted chocolate on the centre of one cookie and top with another. Repeat with the remaining cookies and allow to cool and the chocolate set.
14. To draw the contour of the cameras in chocolate I used this handy little thing (I like to go low tech).

The cookies will keep for several days in an airtight container.

Sugar cookies with dark chocolate filling

I slightly adapted this recipe to bake approx 15 sandwich cookies

Ingredients

2 cups all-purpose flour

1/4 tsp salt

1/2 tsp baking powder

110g unsalted butter

1 cup sugar

1 large egg, lightly beaten

2 Tbs milk

1/2 tsp pure vanilla extract

100g dark chocolate (min. 70% cocoa solids)

1. In a bowl, whisk together flour, salt, and baking powder.
2. In a separate bowl, either that of an electric mixer or using a hand mixer, cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy.
3. With mixer running, add the egg, milk, and vanilla and mix until well combined.
4. With the mixer on low, slowly add the flour mixture and mix until just combined.
5. Shape into 2 discs, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for at least 1 hour or until firm enough to roll.
6. Preheat oven to 175C (35F) and line two baking sheets parchment paper.
7. On a lightly floured work surface, roll out dough to 5mm thickness.
8. Remove one half of the chilled dough from the refrigerator and, on a lightly floured surface, roll out the dough to a thickness of 5mm.
9. Lightly flour the cookie cutter and cut out desired shapes. Transfer cookies to the prepared baking sheet.
10. Place the baking sheets with the unbaked cookies in the refrigerator for 10 to 15 minutes to chill the dough, which will prevent the cookies from spreading and losing their shape while baking.
11. Bake until lightly golden, about 10 minutes but do not allow to brown. Transfer to wire racks to cool.
12. Repeat steps 8-11 with the remaining dough.
13. When ready to assemble the cookies, place the chocolate in a double boiler until melted melt.
14. Spread about 1/2 teaspoon of melted chocolate on the centre of one cookie and top with another. Repeat with the remaining cookies and allow to cool and the chocolate set.
15. To draw the contour of the cameras in chocolate I used this handy little thing (I like to go low tech).

The cookies will keep for several days in an airtight container.

Butterscotch banana loaf cake

Several nights ago I found myself watching ‘Louie’, Louis CK’s show. It was the one where he calls the grocers and orders, among other items, 6 bananas that are misheard as 60 hence he ends up with a lot of bananas. Totally not the point of the show but it got me thinking what I’d do had a large bunch of bananas landed in my kitchen. Little did I know what the cosmos had planned.

For several days now a winter/ tropical storm is bringing out my crave for winter foods and so far soups, casseroles, hot pots and baked apple cakes have already made an appearance in the kitchen and on my plate. The next morning I headed to the farmers market and without a banana thought in my head. Thats not strictly true, secretly I was hoping to find a rare bunch of ripe bananas among the green bunches always sold and as luck would have it I passed by a glowing stand radiating with bright yellow, some would say over ripe bananas past their best days. Perfect for baking, I thought.

At half the price I bought the lot and found myself standing in the kitchen surrounded with quite a few bananas. Whether it was a hunch, intuition, quantum physics or simply a coincidence, I had prepared in advance and had given the subject a little thought. So some I mashed, zip locked and froze for future use, some have now been transformed into a jam, now jarred, and some ended up in a Butterscotch banana cake that I like to refer to as ‘how I like to start the weekend’ cake.

The recipe for this cake was taken from Dan Lepard's latest cookbook.

A food columnist on The Guardian’s food channel, his latest cookbook arrived at my doorstep earlier this week and it’s a hefty one. With over 500 pages featuring hundreds of recipes from sweet to savoury, breads, cakes, tarts, candies and desserts it took me several hours to go over it and dress it up with technicolor ribbons marking all the ‘must bake’ recipes.

Turns out over- ripe bananas was just the place to start. And you never know which bananas tomorrow will bring.

Butterscotch banana loaf cake

Adapted from ‘Short & sweet: The best of home baking',

by Dan Lepard.

This cake begins caramelizing bananas before adding the sticky mixture to the batter. The result is a moist spicy banana toffee loaf that’s light and mildly sweet and pairs wonderfully with a cup of coffee, dunked in a bowl of custard or served with a dollop of sour cream.

For the butterscotch bananas:

2/3 caster sugar

50 ml water

2 bananas, sliced thickly

1-2 tbs unsalted butter

2 tsp vanilla extract or ½ vanilla stick, deseeded

a pinch of sea salt

for the cake:

½ cup caster sugar

¾ cup virgin coconut oil (or any other neutral flavoured oil)

3 medium eggs

50 g plain yogurt

1 cup all purpose flour

½ cup rye flour (of wholemeal/ spelt)

2 tsp of mixed spice ( I prepared a mixture freshly ground cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, Kampot and Melegueta pepper)

2 tsp baking powder

½ tsp baking soda

1. For the butterscotch bananas: pour the sugar and water in a large frying pan and bring to a boil. Continue to cook until the liquid turns to a rich caramel colour. Reduce the heat and add the bananas, butter and vanilla. Cook the bananas in the sauce until they’ve softened. Sprinkle the sea salt then set aside and allow to cool.
2. Preheat the oven to 180C and line a loaf pan with parchment paper.
3. In a bowl, sift the flour, rye flour, mixed spice, baking powder and baking soda.
4. In a separate large bowl mix the sugar, oil and eggs to a thick, yellow batter.
5. Add the caramelized bananas and yogurt and mix well.
6. Fold the flour mixture into the batter, not too much, just until incorporated.
7. Pour the batter into the loaf pan and bake for about 40 minutes. The cake is ready when it turns a tanned caramel colour and a skewer inserted into it comes out clean.
8. Release the cake from the pan and allow to cool on a wire rack.

Where Champagne wishes come true

Turns our 2 weeks in France was just what I needed. I spent the majority of October immersed in the French terroir, enjoying the local food culture paired with wines I never dreamed of drinking.

Freshly baked breads complete with a cracking crust, butter rich pastries, macaroons, guimauve (hand made marshmallows), foie gras, mushrooms of all sorts in shades of autumn, scallops, cheese and charcuterie, Champagne and other local exquisite wines were all present, naturally.

In between long hours of lectures on the local food culture, history, science, theory, testing and tastings, visits to markets, vineyards and wineries I barely had time for to pinch myself, keep track and make sure this was all really happening. The experience was grand, rich and full, so this is merely an amuse bouche.

A food gypsy at heart, life seems to be the time I spend in between travelling in search of good food; local, seasonal, contemporary and traditional, Haute and bas.

In France, as we all know, mealtimes are never taken lightly, the forks face down (long story), wine is always present on the table to help wash down the food and much of the food is unapologetically drenched in as much butter as it can absorb (it tastes good).

Some of the highlights included an all night guided tour to Rungis market, the largest wholesale market in Europe, exceptional food & wine pairing pedagogical meals, fascinating lectures by leading professionals including Hervé This, the French chemist that in addition to the discovery of the perfect temperature for cooking an egg also coined the term ‘Molecular Gastronomy’. This link is an interesting read.

Rungis market is situated on the outskirts of Paris and we spent a night wondering through the various oversized warehouses, passing by an astonishing cornucopia of fresh fish and seafood, poultry in all shapes, shades, breeds and colours, feathered game birds and cuddly hares, hanging beef carcasses, pork slices, endless stacks of cheese, glistening innards, local and not so mush fruit & vegetables, some seasonal and some less so.

During mealtimes we had a chance to sample the local culinary tapestry, always accompanied with a choice of local wines, sparkling water, bread and at times, butter. Last but never least was dessert, flans and tatins, salted butter caramel, crème brulees, Florentins, glaces & sorbet, tarts and chocolate, it was always there and along with everything else, never taken lightly and never forgotten. Just as I’d have it when I rule my own country.

I could go on forever about the fantastic food, the new friends I've made, the places I saw, the wines I had, the pastries I devoured, the foie gras that melted in my mouth, the Chateau Margaux, the Champagne and all but instead I'll let the images speak themselves.

Au revoir France, until next time.

A taste of Jerusalem

Its been many years since I left Jerusalem to discover the great wide world and all the delicacies it has to offer.

I left the harsh reality, the cold winters, the unbearable gravity of life, politics and religion. They all proved a little too much and I never looked back.

In fact, the further away life took me, the more I was deterred by the city and all it had to offer. Until now.

A recent project has brought me back to the city and I have come full circle, like a perfectly shaped Pita bread.

Food showed me the way back to the city but this time from a slightly different point of view, revealing, along the way, a delicious and distinctly unique foodscape, making Jerusalem easier to digest and easier to love.

East Jerusalem and West, Israeli and Palestinian, Jews, Muslims, Christians and Armenians, Ashkanazi and Sephardic, Secular and Religious, Kosher and Halal, old and new.

Past, present and future.

Nutmeg nutters muffins

Summer is officially over, August 2011 is now a thing of the past. The still, humid evening air has been blown away by a cool evening breeze. I spent the majority of last month glued to my computer, mostly breathing conditioned air and avoiding daylight as much as possible. I may live in the Mediterranean but my East European heritage is impossible to avoid or deny. I like it better when its not hot and humid like the inside of a hamam.

That's right. I’m looking forward to winter, but I should also mention that winter in Tel Aviv is almost perfect. The city shines under shades of grey, as temperatures drop to a comfortable low of 13 degrees Celsius around January and the days are dotted with sporadic rainy days here and there alongside the occasional dramatic thunder storm, for extra effect.

I have decided to welcome fall and bake it into muffin form. Nutmeg and muffins make for a special treat for any nutmeg nutters out there as these aren’t what one might call MILD; we’re talking sharp and pungent treats with one whole grated nutmeg and definitely the next step up from a cinnamon addiction- one that I hold dearly to my heart.

These are best served warm a dollop of sour cream or a thick fruit compote and every bite is reassurance that autumn one step closer.

.

Nutmeg muffins

(12 muffins)

The recipe is slightly adapted from Marion Cunningham’s The Breakfast Book I discovered through Orangette.

Ingredients

1½ cups all- purpose flour

½ cup rye flour

½ cup sugar

1 tbs baking powder

1 ½ whole nutmeg, freshly grated

¼ tsp cinnamon

½ tsp salt

1 egg

¾ cup sour cream

¾ cup milk

40 gram butter, melted

1. Preheat the oven to 200C and butter or oil the muffin tins.
2. In a large bowl, mix the flour, sugar, baking powder, freshly grated nutmeg, cinnamon and salt to combine.
3. In a separate bowl beat the egg the add in the sour cream, milk and melted butter and stir to combine.
4. Add the cream mixture to the flour mixture and stir only until there are no streaks of flour. Do not overmix.
5. Spoon the batter into the muffin tins, about 2/3 full. Sprinkle a little cinnamon on top and bake until lightly golden, about 20 minutes.
6. Remove the muffins from the tins and serve warm with butter, sour cream or by itself. Alternatively, cool on a rack and freeze for later use.

Portugal, in a nutshell.

There is no excuse for the utter and absolute neglect.

Well, there is, actually. I barely had time to breath let alone maintain my virtual abode when a wave of intensive commitments washed over, taking every spare moment I had with it. The overbearing heat and humidity aren't helpful and everything seems to be moving in slow motion, with great difficulty.I've managed to squeeze a few minutes for a long overdue post, a quick breather before its back underwater.

I did, however, spend the earlier part of the month in Portugal, though I'd swear it was another lifetime. I finally managed to sort through all of the photos and take the time to digest (not literally, I did that already...) the experience, the local terroir and the food.

The portugal I discovered is rich with wonderful local produce. While the local failed to wow us, venturing into local markets throughout our trip was immensely satisfying. Market stalls displayed a splendiferous array of sea life, greens and fruits and, after sampling quite a few of the local wines, my affair with red wine has rekindled.

Some of the highlights included:

The Francesinha, a Porto specialty and the local version of a Croque Monsieur, consists of a toasted sandwich filled with ham, pork and sausage, wrapped in cheese and soaked in a hot, beer based sauce. Loved the concept, prefer a salad.

Snails in the market, available in bulk or by weight.

Sintra cheese cake, aka Queijadas de Sintra, as well as pretty much all the pastry everywhere we went, is a variation on a recurring theme; egg yolk and sugar. no cheese.

The flaky ribbons that adorned a column adjacent to the sausages stall are dried intestines, complete with a 'meaty' aroma built in.

Breathtaking views along the Duoro river made up for the pastry.

Thank god for fresh summer fruit, ham, cheese and bread.

And fresh sardines, naturally.