Anyone who’s been lucky enough to spend time in Paris knows that nothing compares to a flaky croissant first thing in the morning. No butter, no jam. No honey. Just a shot of espresso and a spoiled smile.

Early on in my cooking career I naively thought to myself, “Wouldn’t it be special to whip up some of my own croissants?” I consulted a few recipes and quickly threw that idea on the back burner. Any recipe that begins Friday evening and doesn’t deliver any goods until Sunday morning isn’t going to find its way into my kitchen. Before starting school, I never counted patience among my virtues.

Fortunately, the last third of my culinary education has been largely dominated by laminated doughs — the ones with ultra-thin layers of butter and bread dough that create the flakes we so long for. First we made puff pastry, the simplest; then croissants, a richer dough; and finally Danish pastry, the sweetest and most American of them all.

And in reality, none of these are that tough or time-consuming to make (isn’t that always the lesson here?) Croissants take about an hour and a half, and then you can throw them in the fridge and bake them off the next morning. And if you’re like me, they’re quite fun to roll up.

An empty Danish is your blank slate. Fill it with cream cheese, lemon curd, jam, or dust it with cinnamon sugar. Just consult the door of your refrigerator and be your own guide.

Croissants, however, have rules. You have two options when it comes to this dough, and they are Croissants and Pain au Chocolat (with a small amount of dark chocolate tucked inside). Don’t even think about trying any creative shapes or smearing on — gasp! — Nutella.

Because as we know, the French have a very particular way of doing things, and it’s best not to mess with it.

And for the Americans… we can have sugar for breakfast.

Every year on Christmas day, my sister and I wake up early in the same bed (it’s a Christmas Eve tradition). We still hobble downstairs in our pajamas, drink a cup of coffee and giddily open the presents that have been sitting under the tree with our names on them. Then my mom fixes us a Bloody Mary.

And around noon, my aunt, uncle and cousin come over for Christmas Brunch, the biggest, most Southern eating extravaganza you could dream of, complete with an excess of carbs, grits, meat, quiche and mimosas for dessert. And that’s the way we’ve celebrated Christmas for as long as I can remember.

This year was a little special, though, since my mother finally trusts me in the kitchen (I am a chef-to-be, after all). We made her Quiche Lorraine, but I caramelized the onions MY way. Taste them, and you’ll never go back. Instead of preparing her usual salad, I made one of my standbys, a baked goat cheese salad with croutons. We made Bloody Marys, but I accented them with a dramatic skewer of blue cheese olives, pickled okra, gouda cheese and spicy pickled green beans.

I even made the Walnut Bread we’ve practiced in class, adding in a few dried cranberries for a Christmas-y effect. It was second in beauty only to the Challah, and it lay in a basket directly next to my mom’s whole wheat banana nut bread.

And all the traditional favorites were left untouched. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Like her famous (within the family, at least) Gruyère grits.

Served topped with a healthy scoop of Grillades, a classic Southern stew of slow-cooked beef with vegetables that melts in your mouth.

I may be the one who’s in culinary school, but I still have a lot to learn from this lady.

Fact: Banana Nut Bread is a perfectly acceptable breakfast. So are muffins, Pumpkin Bread and scones; never mind that all of those things are basically cake, and that you’re eating them before 9 am.

Until recently at school, we’ve focused on yeast and steam as “raising agents,” or things that make food puff up in the oven (scientific, I know). But we since dove into the complex world of baking powder and baking soda, which are important ingredients that give us cookies, scones and cupcakes.

In sum, baking soda is an alkaline, and it has to be mixed with an acid for the rising to occur — usually in the form of buttermilk when you’re baking sweets. Baking powder, however, does the work for you. It’s baking soda plus tartaric acid, so you don’t have to worry about needing the extra acid in the buttermilk.

The recipes we worked on ranged from Cherry Scones to Pumpkin Squares to Gingerbread Cakes and Streusel.

Don’t worry, most of this went to charity. After a small feast, of course.

I made an Pernod-Scented Olive Oil Cake with Almonds. It was my first brush with the now-trendy olive oil cake, and I see why butter has generally prevailed in baking: The mild, slightly grassy flavor doesn’t love sugar the way other fats do. I’ll save my oil for salad dressings and sautéing, I think.

Most of our baked good were made by one of two methods: The creaming method, in which the butter and sugar are whipped together, and the cut-in method, in which cold butter is incorporated into the flour first. The latter makes for a flakier final product, and I highly recommend it, considering how these scones turned out. Which leads me to wonder…

… Why don’t I make scones more!?

]]> http://livbites.com/2010/12/08/bread-for-breakfast/feed/ 1 http://livbites.com/2010/11/30/eggs-and-more-eggs/ http://livbites.com/2010/11/30/eggs-and-more-eggs/#comments Wed, 01 Dec 2010 04:56:07 +0000 Liv http://livbites.com/?p=880
In French cooking, as it turns out, you only really need three ingredients to get started: butter, flour and eggs. Sugar helps, too, as does a nice Swiss cheese. Everything else is just an accessory.

After our indulgent day of soufflé making a few weeks back, I didn’t think I’d be able to stomach another egg. Then there was the workshop in omelettes and frittatas, which I reluctantly joined in on, only to feel even more put off by the end of the day. And when it was time for an all-day lesson in quiches and savory soufflés (yes, more soufflés), I thought my body and taste buds might rebel.

That was until I tasted the Quiche Lorraine.

Of course, I’ve tasted many a Quiche Lorraine — made with leeks, Gruyère cheese and bacon — during my extensive brunch “research” over the years, but this one was quite special. I used a shallow tart pan instead of a deep pie dish, which I suspect was the key to success: Instead of an egg-y mixture dotted with the occasional lardon, the result was mostly cheese and smoky bacon, with the egg acting only to keep the whole thing together. In other words, the ratio of goodies to filler skyrocketed, making for a much richer quiche.

Speaking of richness. Egg yolks and cream makes for a very rich and pretty much entirely excessive quiche. A mixture of eggs and yolks and cream and milk will make a better-balanced (and delicious) one, and whole eggs and milk will be much milder altogether. And probably a little bland.

It’s also a good idea to include one egg in your pastry dough when making a quiche, because it will hold up better against the wet filling (on the contrary, sweet pie fillings with whole fruits and other solid ingredients don’t need an egg in the crust). Again, the take-away: flour + water + eggs = an infinite number of gastronomic possibilities.

And as for the savory soufflés? This Curried Cauliflower one might look pretty fancy, but there’s a reason we don’t see these popping up on brunch menus. The consistency of the soft, fluffy inside is just much more pleasant when it’s sweet — the savory version tends to take on a gross-out quality. Or maybe it’s just my egg overload.

In any case, I’m committed to perfecting a roasted garlic and cheese soufflé, a version of which we sampled several weeks ago. I’m hopeful that an individual size served in a ramekin with a light side salad could be a huge success.

Summer is officially wrapping up, even in San Francisco. Since summer generally feels more like fall here, we usually get a couple of months of glorious sunny weather in September and October, but the sun seems to have overlooked the whole city this year. I can’t complain, really: It’s been a breezy 65 degrees for the past… well, forever.

The season is on its way out, and I can see the changes at the farmer’s market. Vendors are selling the last of their summer berries, which means those tiny, organic strawberries are practically fuschia right now, and they’re as sweet as they’ll ever be.

With strawberries like these, it would be such a shame to douse them in sugar and butter for dessert. Their taste cannot be improved upon. So I decided they’d be best used in a Late Summer Strawberry Tart, sliced and untarnished, topping off a mini custard-filled pie.

It’s not too late for strawberries, nor is it too late to vote for me in Foodbuzz’s Project Food Blog contest! Today is the last day of voting, so click here to cast one. I am truly grateful for everyone’s support!

Late Summer Strawberry Tarts

Ingredients (Makes 4 tarts):

For the crust:

1 and 1/2 cups flour

1 tbsp. sugar

1 tsp. salt

2 tbsp. milk

1/2 stick butter (not too cold)

For the custard:

1/3 cup sugar

1 and 1/2 tbsp. cornstarch

Pinch of salt

1 egg yolk

1/3 cup milk

Juice of half a lemon

1 tbsp. butter

1 and 1/2 cups chopped strawberries

For the crust: Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Mix all ingredients together. Roughly chop butter into several small pieces and mix in with the rest of the dough. Use fingers to work the butter into the other ingredients until the dough is firm and stays in one ball.

Divide dough into four equal balls, and work each portion into the bottom and sides of a miniature tart pan 4 inches in diameter (*See note below). Use fingers to spread the dough evenly to form a crust. Poke a fork in the bottom of each crust. Bake crusts for 10 to 15 minutes or until they begin to brown.

For the custard: Combine first 3 ingredients (sugar through salt) in a large saucepan. In a separate bowl, beat egg and milk together. Add the egg mixture to the saucepan and cook over medium heat, stirring constantly. Once mixture thickens into a custard consistency, stir in the lemon juice and butter.

Distribute custard evenly into pie crusts and top with strawberries.

*Note: If you don’t have mini tart pans, you can use a standard 9-inch diameter pan and cut the tart into slices, like a pie.

I can remember my mother making “banana nut bread” back when I was wearing school uniforms, and she almost always has some on the counter when I go home today. To me, it’s always symbolized southern hospitality — something to give as a gift to a friend or teacher, or something just to have around in case someone stops by. It’s 2010, so in real life no one ever does that without calling, but the sentiment is still nice.

When I was little her recipe featured pecans and nutmeg (I think; I’m relying on taste bud memories here). But in recent memory she’s been making one from a cookbook called Tables of Content, by the Birmingham, Alabama Junior League, called Favorite Banana Bread.

I have the book, too, so I decided to make a version of my own based on a family tradition. I feel a little better about it since it’s made with whole wheat flour, which amazingly my assistant approves of. The wheat gives the bread a natural nutty flavor that’s welcome, since I don’t put any real nuts in mine (the crunch interrupts the cake-y texture).

My mom would never taint her (sort of) perfectly healthy banana bread with chocolate, but my assistant has been begging me for a chocolate chip banana bread for the past two years. So I obliged, and I admit I’m a convert. Sometimes chocolate for breakfast is a very good decision.

Chocolate Chip Banana Bread

Adapted from Favorite Banana Bread in Tables of Content

Ingredients (Makes 1 loaf):

3/4 cup flour

1/2 tsp. baking powder

1/4 tsp. salt

1/2 stick butter, softened

1/2 cup sugar

1/4 cup thick Greek yogurt (I used Fage 0%)

1 egg

2 very ripe bananas, mashed

1 tsp. vanilla

1/2 tsp. cinnamon

1/3 cup chocolate chips (milk or dark, whichever you prefer)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Combine flour, baking powder and salt in a small bowl, and mix together.

In a larger bowl, use an electric mixer to beat together the butter and sugar for about 2 minutes. Add in yogurt, egg, mashed bananas, vanilla and cinnamon and beat for another 2 minutes. Slowly add flour mixture into the batter, mixing as you pour. Stir in chocolate chips.

Grease a 8.5-inch by 4.5-inch bread loaf pan, and pour in batter. Use a fork or spoon to make sure it’s distributed evenly in the pan (so that the bread cooks evenly).

Bake for 45 minutes on 350 degrees.

Although most people imagine Mississippi as a hub for consuming grits, my mom only makes them once a year, at Christmas brunch. Along with about a hundred other side and main dishes, she whips up her version of gruyère grits that I adore, topped with mouth-watering grillades that take her all day to make (it’s worth it, trust me).

So my grits experience may be more limited than you’d guess, but they’re still close to my heart. I’ve been wanting to personalize them and make them my own, so I decided to try a simple shrimp and grits meal for dinner this week. Grits for dinner was a welcome change of pace from the usual grains (pasta, risotto, etc.), but keep in mind it’s a perfect brunch and lunch meal, too.

There’s no wrong way to make shrimp and grits. In fact, I read several recipes for it while looking for inspiration, and no two were quite the same — so you have plenty of freedom to experiment with different vegetables in the mix, and even different proteins (andouille sausage sounds awesome in here).

Oh, and I did cheat a little. I used polenta from the bulk foods aisle, because it’s just a little tricky to find grits in Northern California. I know they’re not quite the same, but it was the best I could do. Don’t hate.

Shrimp & Grits

Ingredients (Serves 4):

2.5 cups low-sodium chicken broth

2.5 cups water

1 cup stone-ground grits or polenta

1 cup white cheddar cheese, grated

1 tbsp. honey

1 tsp. cayenne pepper

1 lb. bacon, chopped into bite-size pieces

2 tbsp. sugar

4 small cloves garlic, minced

2 bunches collard greens (about 20 stems), torn or chopped

2 yellow peppers, chopped

2 small yellow onions, chopped

About 2 cups chopped okra

1/2 cup low-sodium chicken broth

Juice of 4 lemons

1 lb. shrimp, peeled and deveined

For the grits:

Bring chicken broth and water to boil in large pot. Slowly whisk in grits or polenta, and reduce heat to a simmer. Cook for about 15 to 20 minutes, whisking occasionally. Remove from heat and stir in cheese, mixing well. Then stir in honey and cayenne pepper. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

For the shrimp:

Cook bacon and sugar in large pan on high heat for about 5 to 7 minutes, or until the bacon is cooked through and caramelized. Remove bacon from pan and set aside, keeping the drippings. Pour out about half of drippings, and reserve the rest in the pan.

Reheat drippings in pan and add garlic and collard greens. Sauté for 3 to 4 minutes or until greens begin to soften and wilt. Add peppers, onions and okra, and sauté for another 7 to 10 minutes, until vegetables start to brown slightly. Add broth and lemon juice and let simmer, stirring, for 5 more minutes.

Once most of the liquid has evaporated from the pan, add in shrimp and sauté, stirring, for 3 to 4 minutes, until shrimp is pink and cooked through.

Serve shrimp and vegetable mixture over grits.

Served with a Golden Beet and Goat Cheese Salad

]]> http://livbites.com/2010/07/25/southern-style-shrimp-grits/feed/ 0 http://livbites.com/2010/05/17/fresh-picked-fried/ http://livbites.com/2010/05/17/fresh-picked-fried/#comments Tue, 18 May 2010 06:18:21 +0000 Liv http://livbites.com/?p=318

My assistant and I were lucky enough to spend the majority of the past week with his mom in Miami, where it’s perpetually 80 degrees, sunny and all-around beach worthy. And while the produce we get in Northern California is hard to top, Florida does a pretty good job of competing — and not just when it comes to oranges.

My assistant’s mom Sharon was house- and dog-sitting for a couple of out-of-town neighbors, who entrusted her to water their plants while they were away. The major perk of that duty was that she was allowed to snag a few ripe, beautifully green and tart tomatoes from their garden, which we sliced up back in her kitchen for dinner.

The following recipe — a fried green tomato and goat cheese salad — is inspired by one at Julep restaurant in Jackson, Mississippi. They make a mean fried green tomato napoleon with crabmeat and sinful amounts of butter. My version is a lighter one (if fried foods can even be considered light?) but it easily did the trick. In fact, we ate it alongside a more complex and expensive pasta dish, but the salad was clearly the stand-out.

Fried Green Tomato and Goat Cheese Salad

Ingredients (Makes 4 side salads):

4 medium green tomatoes

2 eggs

1 cup flour

1 tsp. salt

1 tsp. pepper

1 tsp. paprika

1/4 cup oil (vegetable or canola would work; so would olive oil in a pinch)

4 cups mixed greens

Juice of 2 lemons

1 tsp. honey

1 tsp. olive oil

Pinch each of salt and pepper

4 oz. goat cheese

Cut tomatoes into 1/2-inch thick slices. Whisk eggs in a small bowl, and set aside. On a large plate or bowl, mix flour, salt, pepper and paprika.

Cover tomato slices in egg mixture on both sides, then transfer to flour mixture. Cover with flour mixture on both sides.

Heat oil in large skillet on high heat. When it begins to bubble, add in tomatoes, making sure there is plenty of room so that tomatoes don’t overlap. Let tomatoes fry for about 1 minute or until a crust forms, then flip over and fry for another minute on the other side.

Remove tomatoes from oil and place on a paper towel-covered plate to absorb excess oil.

In a small bowl, whisk together lemon juice, honey, olive oil, salt and pepper. Pour over mixed greens and toss in a large bowl so that dressing is well-distributed. Divide greens among four plates, and top each plate with tomato slices (about four per plate, depending on the size of the tomatoes). Crumble goat cheese on top.

Southerners may not have invented the tradition of cooking for others, but they have certainly perfected the execution of it. My childhood is filled with memories of my mother rushing around, completing errands with my sister and me grumpily sitting in the backseat of her car, but always making time to drop a casserole off at a friend’s house whose parent recently passed away. It’s just the way things are done.

I’m no longer a resident of the Hospitality State, but it’s in my blood. Good manners are bred, not born, and I’ve come to appreciate them even more as I grow older. A bottle of wine, a batch of cookies or fresh flowers go a long way when you’re a guest in someone’s home — even if said someone is your own sister.

My mother, aunt and I met up in Denver this past weekend, where my sister has lived for a little over a year. I wanted to bring a little something to show my gratitude for our lovely hostess (and perhaps, admittedly, to pay homage to our gracious roots). I decided to make biscotti for the first time, knowing that the women in my family tend to be voracious coffee drinkers whose sweet tooths aren’t so, well, sweet.

While drumming up some inspiration for my biscotti, I remembered a cooking class my sister and I took in Chicago a couple of years ago when we both lived in the area. Our four-course, hands-on dinner included a dessert of Grand Marnier fig and basil bread pudding, a combination we both went crazy for and ended up passing on to my mom for a Thanksgiving dish idea. The fig and basil pairing seemed like a perfect fit for my biscotti — and I knew my sis would appreciate the memory behind it.

Note: I used Smitten Kitchen’s Fig & Walnut Biscotti for reference, since I’m a biscotti novice.

Fig and Basil Biscotti

Ingredients (Makes about 18 biscotti):

1/4 cup chopped almonds

1/2 stick butter, softened

1/2 cup light brown sugar

2 tbsp. honey

2 eggs

1 tsp. vanilla

1/2 tsp. lemon zest

1 cup all-purpose flour

3/4 cup plus 2 tbsp. whole wheat flour

1 tsp. baking powder

1/4 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. cinnamon

1/4 tsp. nutmeg

1 cup dried figs, cut into small cubes

1/4 cup basil, chopped

1 egg white

White sugar for sprinkling

Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Spread almonds on baking sheet and toast for 5 minutes, or until fragrant. Remove and cool.

In a large bowl, use an electric mixer to combine butter, sugar and honey. Add eggs one at a time and beat until smooth. Beat in vanilla and lemon zest.

In another bowl, combine flours, baking powder, salt, cinnamon and nutmeg, and stir until mixed well. Beat dry ingredients into butter and sugar mixture, and stir in almonds, figs and basil. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 30 minutes or until firm.

Grease a baking sheet. On a floured surface, roll dough into a log the length of the baking sheet, and place log on sheet. In a small bowl, beat egg white until it becomes frothy, and brush egg on top of the log of dough. Sprinkle with white sugar. Bake for 20 minutes or until the top of the log forms cracks and begins to harden and brown.

Remove and let cool for another 30 minutes. Use a serrated knife to cut biscotti into 1/2-inch slices, on the bias (it’s prettier). Lay the slices on a cooking sheet (you may need a second one at this point) and bake for another 20 minutes until toasted.

]]> http://livbites.com/2010/04/25/girls-weekend/feed/ 1 http://livbites.com/2010/04/04/easter-brunch-for-2/ http://livbites.com/2010/04/04/easter-brunch-for-2/#comments Mon, 05 Apr 2010 01:26:56 +0000 Liv http://livbites.com/?p=204

I had hoped to gather some of my friends together for an Easter Sunday brunch, in the tradition of our 20-something “urban family” who have no biological family around. But since everyone seemed to be out of town or otherwise occupied, my assistant and I enjoyed an Easter brunch for two. The absence of extra company seemed like no reason to resort to a bowl of cereal, so instead I whipped up veggie-filled frittata — which, thanks to the lack of crust, was much less of a hassle than a quiche.

I used mushrooms and zucchini in my version, since I was craving some zucchini and am still working on developing a taste for mushrooms. I think I made some real progress today: The frittata was delish! But after having made this one, my mind started going through the endless possibilities. Sundried tomatoes, leeks, asparagus, spinach, peppers, goat cheese… It’s hard to imagine a combination that wouldn’t work well with eggs.

Also, I had some pecorino romano cheese on hand, so that’s what I included in this one, but cheddar, parmesan or feta would work just as well.

Mushroom and Zucchini Frittata

Ingredients (Makes one 10-inch frittata, which serves 3 or 4; we saved half!)

1 clove garlic

5 small brown mushrooms, sliced

2 zucchini, sliced once lengthwise and then into 1/4-inch sections

6 eggs

1/4 cup grated pecorino romano cheese, separated in half

Sauté garlic in a about a tablespoon of olive oil in a 10-inch skillet. Use cooking spray to coat the bottom and edges of the pan (this will help when you’re trying to get the frittata out of there!) Add mushroom and zucchini and sauté for about 7 minutes or until tender.

Preheat oven to broil. In a large bowl, whisk eggs, half of the cheese and a pinch each of salt and pepper. Pour egg mixture into skillet and mix so that vegetables are evenly distributed in the pan. Cover and let cook on medium heat for about 5-7 minutes, until the edges look done but the center is still a little soft.

Pour the remaining cheese on top of the frittata. Place the pan in the oven uncovered and cook for another minute, until the center is done (stick a fork in if you’re unsure).