From right to left that’s two pain levain batards, two sourdough boules, and a part-rye part whole-wheat sourdough miche of my own design - about eleven pounds of lovely bread I turned out of my oven today. This was probably the best day of baking I’ve ever had.
In the background, you can see Herman, my stout and doughty sourdough culture, his billions of yeasts and bacteria toiling away happily on a fresh feeding.
I have a nice little life going here. Better not blink.
Anadama bread is a traditional coastal New England bread with molasses and cornmeal that makes excellent toast and incredible peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. The original recipe, so the legend goes, comes from a Rockport, Massachusetts man (up the coast on Cape Ann, next to Gloucester where they’re all gruff fisherman) whose wife ran off and left him with nothing in the house but cornmeal, molasses, and flour. He baked all these into a loaf and named it “Anna, damn ‘er.” History is silent on whether Anna deserved this infamy.
I have been making Anadama bread for years, from recipes by James Beard and Peter Reinhardt, but since I have had some time off recently caring for an infant, I’ve gone back to the drawing board, refined the basic formula into by far the best version I have ever tasted, and am now ready to pass it along to you, you lucky dog.
My basic innovations are to use a somewhat higher proportion of cornmeal and molasses than I’ve seen elsewhere, to add a little (optional) whole wheat flour for nutrition and complexity, and to use a two-starter method to build the dough rather than the traditional straight method.
The extra molasses and cornmeal (which is really pushing the limit for what this formula can take and still rise well) give the bread a distinctively “Anadama” character which I like a lot. For the same reason, I also prefer to use blackstrap molasses, the darkest, most intensely flavored molasses out there. It just tastes better in this bread, though you may certainly use dark or golden molasses if that’s what you have around.
The two starters, a soaker and a sponge, are here for several reasons. The cornmeal soaker softens up the grain, which means: more sugar is available for the yeast to feed on; the particles of meal are softer and less prone to cut into the bread’s gluten structure, giving a lighter loaf; and the cornmeal cooks more completely in the oven. A sponge of some of the flour gives great depth of flavor, promotes the activity of enzymes that make the dough more elastic, and also lowers the pH of the dough slightly, which (probably, so the theory goes) helps to soften the bran in the whole wheat and therefore keeps the loaf lighter. Putting all this together may seem like a pain in the keister, but it really amounts to five minutes of work done over two days.
Soaker:
10 oz cornmeal
10 oz water, room temperature
Sponge:
8 oz (1 3/4 cups) all-purpose or bread flour (11% protein content minimum)
7 oz water, room temperature
1/2 tsp yeast
Main Dough:
8 oz (1 3/4 cups) all-purpose or bread flour (11% protein content minimum), plus more in reserve
6 oz (1 1/2 cups) whole wheat flour (or, 6 more ounces AP or bread flour)
1 1/2 tsp instant yeast
.4 oz (1 1/2 tsp) salt
4.5 oz (1/3 cup) molasses, preferably blackstrap
1 oz (2 tbsp) unsalted butter, at room temperature
(For the hardcore here’s the baker’s percentages):
Flour................. 100%
Water................ 77%
Yeast................. about 1.1%
Salt................... 1.8%
Cornmeal........... 45%
Molasses............ 20%
Unsalted Butter… 4.5%
1) The night before you bake, make your soaker: combine the cornmeal and water in a small bowl, mix well, and cover with plastic wrap. Alternatively, you can make a hot soaker on baking day: heat the water to about 130-140 degrees, combine cornmeal and water, mix well, cover, and let stand for 4 hours. The higher temperature seems to help the cornmeal take up the water more quickly, and may contribute to a softer dough.
2) The morning of baking day, make your sponge. Combine the flour, water and yeast in a large bowl, whisk or stir together vigorously for at least a minute, and let sit 3-4 hours or until nicely ripe. (Ripe means that the sponge is bubbly and domed, and just beginning to recede. You will know it’s ready when it looks like a badlands landscape, with canals just beginning to form on the surface between islands of starter.)
3) Place the flour, yeast and salt for the main dough in a large bowl or the bowl of your stand mixer, and whisk to combine. Add the soaker, the sponge, the molasses, and the butter.
4) Mix in stand mixer on low to medium speed for 6-8 minutes (using the paddle until things come together, and then switching to the dough hook), or, if kneading by hand, mix just until the ingredients are combined and then turn out onto a lightly floured surface and knead for 10-12 minutes. Add flour as necessary to make a smooth but somewhat tacky dough - it should clear the bowl but cling a little to a dry finger applied to the surface for a few seconds.
(This is a good opportunity to hone your skills working with a wonky dough - it tends to start off looking drier than it should, and then because of all the cornmeal cutting into the newly formed gluten, becomes rather unruly before turning into a smooth dough. You may need to add flour while you knead, but give it at least two minutes by machine or four by hand before adding flour a tablespoon at a time, to ensure you don’t overdo it. )
5) Place kneaded dough in a lightly oiled large bowl and cover with plastic wrap. Let rise in a warm place (80 degrees) for 90 minutes. Halfway through, give the dough a business-letter fold*.
6) Remove dough from bowl, divide into two equal pieces, and gently preshape**. Let rest covered for 15 minutes.
7) Preheat oven to 350.
8) Shape each piece into a freeform round or batard loaf, or shape and place in lightly oiled loaf pans. Proof 60-90 minutes or until nearly doubled.
9) Bake in oven for 40-50 minutes, turning halfway through. If you wish, you may steam the oven*** when you place the loaves to promote a better oven spring.
10) When the internal temperature is above 190 degrees, and the loaf is a nice dark golden brown on all sides, remove from oven. (Or, just give ‘em the full 50 minutes if there’s doubt.) Remove from pans, if used, and place on a rack to cool. Wait at least 1 hour before slicing!****
* A business-letter fold is a fancy way of punching down partially risen dough. The intended effects are two: to gently expel some of the gas that has begun to accumulate, and to line up the gluten structure of the dough to promote a good rise, a good shape, and an attractive loaf.
Here’s how:
1) Using a bowl scraper, remove the dough from the rising bowl onto a lightly floured surface. Using the flats of your fingers, gently press down all over the dough to let some air out. Do not mash the edges, do not try to pop visible bubbles, and do not be forceful.
2) Gently pull the sides of the dough outward just a little so that the entire mass is an ovalish-rectanglish shape with the long sides going left to right.
3) With your hands, take the left side of the dough up and fold it about two-thirds of the way over the rest of the mass, as if you were folding a letter into thirds. Repeat with the right side, folding it all the way to the opposite edge. Do not press down to seal.
3a) In some very slack doughs - not this one - you may turn the dough 90 degrees and repeat this process before returning the dough to its bowl, to build additional strength.
4) Replace dough in bowl, folded side down, and cover once again with plastic wrap.
** To preshape a loaf is to take the ugly cut piece you have, and turn it into something orderly so that it will form a neater loaf that will rise and eat better.
1) Place the dough piece cut side up on a very lightly floured surface. Take the top edge and fold it toward the middle of the mass. With the heel of your hand, gently but firmly press it into place. Take the piece of edge that’s at about 2:00 and repeat. Continue clockwise like this all the way around. When you are finished, the dough should be closer to round, and elastic enough to spring back just a little when you take your hand away.
2) Then, take the 12:00 and 6:00 edges and bring them toward each other. Press them together to gently seal. Repeat with the 3:00 and 6:00 edges. Repeat again in each direction. Alternatively, if you are expert at shaping round loaves, you can tighten the gluten on the “good” surface a bit using whatever method you prefer.
4) Finally, turn the preshaped piece of dough seam side down onto a lightly floured surface, cover with a bowl or plastic wrap and let rest for 15-20 minutes.
*** To steam an oven:
1) Place an old cast iron skillet or cake pan you never plan to use again on the floor of the oven, or on the lowest rack if using an electric oven. Preheat the oven with the pan inside.
2) When you place your loaves in the oven, carefully pour 1 cup of very hot or boiling water into the pan before you shut the oven door. Be careful! - steam burns are bad news.
If you are afraid of pouring water into your oven, you can use a few ice cubes instead, placing them in the pan when the loaf goes in, though this does rob the oven of a little heat. You can also use a spray bottle to mist the dough with water prior to going in the oven, and then spray the oven walls quickly with water at two-minute intervals for the first eight minutes or so of baking. This method also leads to great heat loss, so tack a few more minutes of baking time on the end.
Now… why steam your oven at all? Well, steam will keep the starches in the crust from gelatinizing (hardening) as quickly while the loaf undergoes its last speedy rise in the intense heat of the oven. For this recipe this is optional, but you will probably find you get a slightly better oven spring from steam.
**** Why wait until the bread is cool before slicing? Because bread isn’t done baking until the loaf has come back down to almost room temperature. As the loaf cools, the internal structure is continuing to gelatinize (set and become edible) and flavor compounds are continuing to develop. This process doesn’t fully run its course until the bread is nearly cool. The only bread you should eat hot is bad bread; good bread deserves good treatment and a full cooling before cutting.
It’s been a long standing point of minor contention between myself and Goodwyfe Johno that for some reason she won’t let me have a flamejob put on our Oldsmobile sedan. Says it’s a frivolous waste of money… I guess I can see her point, but I have a hard time liking it.
But let nobody say she’s not a good person: yesterday she found for me a guy who makes flamejob decals… for home stand mixers like my Kitchenaid Artisan 600! A silver-and-black flamejob diamond-plate pattern flamejob decal is on its way to my home as we speak, to give my Kitchenaid mixer at least 100 more horsepower of pure high-grade awesome. My mixer, when done, will look very much like this (except awesome silver on awesome red):
Heya kiddies, it’s time for yet another installment of Johno’s Hangover Food for Ambitious Drunkards! (I realize that this is the first time I’ve actually ever used that particular phrase, but look back through the extensive catalog of recipes I have posted to this site and you’ll see that pretty much that’s all I do.)
Check out these banana pancakes - I invented these this morning because I need potassium. And sleep. I need sleep. Y’see, I have a one week old infant in the house who’s doing the usual sleep and eat and eliminate in no pattern around the clock whatsoever thing, and I’ve developed this persistent twitch in my left eyelid. Clearly a potassium deficiency, right? Right?
Anyway, these are incredibly delicious, like almost ridiculously good, and ridiculously easy to whip up on no notice.
Banana Pancakes
makes 4 big and thick pancakes, serving two. Doubles (or more) well.
1 cup (4.5 oz) white whole wheat* flour, or 1/2 cup all-purpose flour and 1/2 cup whole wheat flour
1 tbsp sugar
2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
1 cup milk
1 large egg, beaten
2 tbsp melted butter
2 small or 1 large banana, mashed
Combine all dry ingredients and whisk together. Combine all liquid ingredients except banana and whisk together well. Add banana to liquid and whisk thoroughly again.
Pour liquid ingredients into dry and stir with a whisk ten times only - ten! only! to combine. Lumps are OK.
Cook in half-cup amounts on greased pan or griddle with surface temperature 350 degrees.
I repeat: these are CRAZY GOOD.
*King Arthur offers flour milled from white winter wheat, which lacks some of the bitterness and whole-wheat character of regular red whole wheat. This makes it much better for pastry applications where the nutrition and added flavor complexity of whole wheat flour is desired - cookies, pancakes, biscuits, waffles, and if you use some trickery, even pie crust.
5 lbs wheat dry malt extract (50% wheat, 50% barley)
2 oz Hallertau Mittelfreuh hops, in 1/2 oz plugs
White Labs WLP 001, California Ale Yeast
Brought 3/5 gallons of spring water to boil in kettle. Added extract and 1 oz hops at boil.
Added 1/2 oz flavor hops at 30 minutes
Added another 1/2 oz hops at 15 minutes
Pitched yeast at 68 degrees - fermented itself up to 72 and was done in about 3 days. Racked to secondary and let settle for 3 weeks before kegging.
This beer is fantastic. Smooth, creamy, with that clear hop flavor and faint tartness that California yeast brings. Oddly for a wheat, it’s crystal clear and golden, not as pale or hazy as I might have expected. Well, I might have added some Irish moss to clarify; I just don’t damn well remember. Nice sweetness, beautifully balanced bitterness with a great touch of noble hop flavor and a little aroma. I swear I’m getting some creamsicle notes off this, and it’s really wonderful. I’ll be making this one again, no doubt.
So, what I was after, was a nice dry porter with a good dose of spicy herbal hops in the flavor and nose. What I got was horribly overbittered and a good beer ruined. I ended up tossing the last half of this batch from the keg to make room for the next brew I did. So, that’s pretty much a disaster.
5 lbs light dry malt extract
3/4 lbs crystal malt, 60L
1/4 lb chocolate malt
1/4 lb black patent malt
.8 oz Galena hop pellets, bittering (12% AAU)
1 oz UK Fuggles hop pellets, aroma and flavor
1 oz Tettnanger Tettnang hop pellets, aroma and flavor
2 packages SAFale 33 dry ale yeast
Steeped grains in 1 gallon of spring water and brought 3 to boil. Sparged grains in hot kettle water and added steeping water. Galena and DME added at boil
Hop addition:
Galena 60 min
1/2 oz each Tett and Fuggles 20 min
1/2 oz each Tett and Fuggles, 5 min
Pitched yeast at 72 degrees. Fermentation began slowly but wrapped up in three days. Racked to secondary and let rest for three weeks before kegging. Force-carbonated with CO2.
Almost, but not quite, a good beer. Actually, quite good with heavy food, but just too much bittering hop. A damn shame.
Yep, Rick Rubin. Helluva record producer. Helluvan ear on that guy. LL, Run DMC, Slayer, Anthrax, the Chili Peppers, Johnny Cash’s comeback, Neil Friggin’ Diamond’s very good comeback… that guy knows music for sure. But to save the music industry? Rick Rubin?
The thrust of the article is that Sony has made Rick Rubin the co-Head of Columbia Records, in the hopes of injecting a little of that wyld-ass energy he’s got into the proceedings, and in the process transmogrifying the ailing Industry into something leaner, meaner, and more efficent at siphoning money into the pockets of shareholders.
Now, there’s nothing whatsoever wrong with that, really. The job of a corporation is, indeed, to “maximize shareholder value.” So good luck with that. But check out some of the “hot” “new” “ideas” that Rubin and his co-Head, a middle-aged run of the mill British record exec named Steve Barnett
(I once worked for a sharp and dapper gentleman, a young pretty thing and a rising force in the Industry, who had a taste for shiny suits, expensive haircuts, and the saddest upscale parties I’ve ever been near, lame affairs where the lower echelons sucked down furious premium cocktails on the company dime while a D-list hipster celebrity like Tricky or the guy who played drums on that Bjork record lurked sulkily in a padded banquette until enough minutes had crawled past that he could reasonably said to have performed the favor of appearing. This particular person had a penchant for arranging the firings of underlings who, in his estimation, were not partying hard enough at company outings. This man had executive power and the trust of a wealthy aging blowhard who once was a person of some consequence in music, at least until he was let go.
...but at least let go more gracefully than the one who was sacked after refusing to leave his hot tub to take an urgent call from the CFO, with an unfortunate sequence of words by way of instruction to his minion, such words being unfortunate due to their inference as to the character and moral standing of the CFO, and their audibility in the conference room at the other end of the line, the minion having failed to put his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone…
... the wealthy aging blowhard mentioned two paragraphs prior recently being heard to remark an interview, “I love iPod. I think iPod is great...")
...a run of the mill British record executive named Steve Barnett have cooked up to save Columbia, save Sony, and save the World.
This summer, Columbia Records began a program called Big Red. The company invited 20 college students from Harvard, Penn State and the University of Miami to work on various music projects. The interns concentrated mostly on the digital marketing and promotions departments in Columbia’s offices in Midtown Manhattan, which are on Madison Avenue in a granite skyscraper designed by Philip Johnson.
At the end of their paid internships, the students took part in focus groups that were closely observed by Steve Barnett, Rubin’s co-head at the label, and Mark DiDia, whom Rubin brought in as head of operations, as well as by other Columbia executives. The focus groups may have been the real point of Big Red — Barnett and the New York executives, especially those who had been at Sony for years, wanted to try to take the pulse of the elusive music audience. “The Big Red focus groups were both depressing and informative, and they confirmed what I — and Rick — already knew,” DiDia told me afterward. “The kids all said that a) no one listens to the radio anymore, b) they mostly steal music, but they don’t consider it stealing, and c) they get most of their music from iTunes on their iPod. They told us that MySpace is over, it’s just not cool anymore; Facebook is still cool, but that might not last much longer; and the biggest thing in their life is word of mouth. That’s how they hear about music, bands, everything.”
Well, duh. But wait! There’s an idea here!
At Rubin’s suggestion, [Barnett] has also set up a “word of mouth” department, which will probably employ some members of the Big Red focus group along with dozens of other 20-somethings. The “word of mouth” department will function as a publicity-promotional arm of the company, spreading commissioned buzz through chat rooms across the planet and through old-fashioned human interaction. “They tell all their friends about a band,” Barnett explained. “Their job is to create interest.”
Wow. Damn. The secret to rescuing one of the greatest labels in the history of the world, and the flagship of one the big five… four… three sir! record companies is, pay some teenagers to go on the internet and pretend to give a shit about bands to their friends.
Shit! If only someone’d tried that eight years ago, set up a guy as, I dunno, the “internet marketing manager” and given him money and access to interns eager to tell their buddies all about the next big never-gonna-be, an’, an’, indie companies that you could pay to get content on dorm-room televisions, an’, an’ on campuses and into high schools and skate parks! If only every label in the world had tried that exact strategem back at the advent of the decade, the ship mighta been wrenched around by that critical arc minute to swing it juuuuust wide of the iceberg!
Oh, wait. They all screaming goddamn well did.
Brilliant, gentlemen.
But what else have they in mind?
Rubin has a bigger idea [I bet he does (-Johno)]. To combat the devastating impact of file sharing, he, like others in the music business (Doug Morris and Jimmy Iovine at Universal, for instance), says that the future of the industry is a subscription model, much like paid cable on a television set. “You would subscribe to music,” Rubin explained, as he settled on the velvet couch in his library. “You’d pay, say, $19.95 a month, and the music will come anywhere you’d like. In this new world, there will be a virtual library that will be accessible from your car, from your cellphone, from your computer, from your television. Anywhere. The iPod will be obsolete, but there would be a Walkman-like device you could plug into speakers at home. You’ll say, ‘Today I want to listen to ... Simon and Garfunkel,’ and there they are. The service can have demos, bootlegs, concerts, whatever context the artist wants to put out. And once that model is put into place, the industry will grow 10 times the size it is now.”
So, say I’m somewhere like, I dunno, my buddys fire pit in Northeastern Ohio. We got a bale of primo bud and a cooler full ale. And we wanna rock the fark out to Motorhead. All we gotta do is… wait… dude, do you get broadband out here?
But at least Barnett sees reason here:
Steve Barnett is nervous about the subscription model. “Smart people have told me if the subscription model is not done correctly,” he said, “it will be the final nail in our coffin. I’ve heard both sides of the argument, and I’m not convinced it’s the solution to our problems. Rick wants to be a hero immediately. In his mind, you flick a switch and it’s done. It doesn’t work like that.”
So, what you’re sayin’ is, your highly paid guru who has no office, no shoes, no phone number you can reach him on, and an oracular perspective on the Future of the Industry, is halfway fulla shit. Noted.
But this is where the antics spill over into full-on Larry/Curly/Moe madness. Check this shit out!
Barnett has other ideas, which he is discussing with Rubin. For instance, asking Columbia artists to give the record company up to 50 percent of their touring, merchandising and online revenue. This is unprecedented — even successful artists like the Dixie Chicks make a large percentage of their income from concerts and T-shirts.
So let’s break this down good so even the dim kids in the back of the class get it. Artists signed to major labels get this much money from album sales:
Zero.
If they go reaaaaaaly far, shift a few million units, that number can rocket all the way up to
A little.
Artists, every artist, from the overly earnest hairy-legged songbird down at your local coffe joint, to Buckethead’s wife’s excellent band, to Cheap Trick, to the Rolling Stones, Prince, and Barbra herself, make money in these ways:
Touring and appearances
Merch (t-shirts, keychains, beer coozies, etc.)
Whatever b.s. online revenue streams they can dig up.
If the artist also happens to be a songwriter, or to control their own publishing, they may also get decent to spectacular paydays off of that as well, and forego some of the above. (The rap and electronic worlds also have their alternate revenue streams, but at the end of the day they amount to a new flavor of touring, merch, online B.S., publishing, or songwriting.)
So, basically, leaving aside songwriting and publishing which are separate pillars of the business, with their own contracts, deal structures, and support agencies, the magic bullet that’s gonna save Sony/Columbia from disappearing up their own anii while simultaneously collapsing in a fiery heap while offstage a muted trumpet plays “waaah-waaah” is, WE’LL FIND OUT WHAT MONEY OUR ARTISTS ARE EARNING, AND MAKE THEM GIVE IT TO US INSTEAD!!!
(While, one presumes, twisting their moustaches in glee and twisting their monocles deeper into their eye sockets, the better to see the young immigrant boys they hired straight off a plane at JFK for a nickel wrestle each other to their deaths. Sweet suffering Jesus; there’s villainy, and then there’s incompetent cartoon villainy.)
So, while the money man is looking at grade-skool level larceny as a viable corporate survival strategy, what’s the GURU up to, Stu?
[Rubin is] always on a quest to find just the right thing, whether it be a book or a building. Recently, he hunted down the brand of water that claims to have the greatest level of purity (Ice Age); he pored over architectural manuals to determine what kind of hinge would have been used in 1923 (for his house); and when Johnny Cash was ailing, Rubin discovered a kinesiologist whom Cash credited with extending his life. And so on. Rubin has always been passionate, even compulsive, about his interests.
Gentlemen, I say with mingled regret and pleasure that you all deserve everything you get.
[Wik] Oh, and another thing about that “Big Red” focus group? Isn’t it a truism that kids these days (kids these days!!) have finely tuned bullshit detectors that can see right through most forms of marketing known to man and many which haven’t even been invented yet? And a bunch of teenagers on the intarnets getting paid in free.... what.... free CDs??? Free “subscriptions” to whatever music download service Sony pukes up?... are going to somehow outwit their peers?
I’ve seen it a hundred times. Pimping music is wonderful and even fulfilling when you can really believe in the quality of the record you’re working. Then it’s no so much like whoring, and more like evangelizing. But nine times out of ten, you’re actually getting paid to pretend that some giant steaming turd is really a tasty sandwich, when everyone from Prague to Paducah can see the difference. And that not only sucks the soul right out of you, it’s how record companies and their hacks become hacks. The stink of hack clings to the hacky hacks like cigar smoke and drug store perfume clings to the upholstery in the $20 lapdance room out at the Moonlight on old Route 11. And you don’t really come back from that.
As we await… and wait… and wait… the arrival of our characteristically stubborn firstborn, who is holding onto his cushy life in the womb like the last Japanese regular fiercely defending his little patch of Iwo Jima in late 1948, refusing to accept that history has moved on, I finally convinced my patient and loving wife to show me how to make the ethnic food of her Pennsylvania hill-country home.
Possum.
Naw, I’m just shining you on. Up in the hills of Western Pennsylvania, in the countless factory towns that line the Allegheny and the Kiskemin...Kiske… the Kiskesomethiwhatsit River, everyone eats pierogi. Originally brought to the area by the Slavic, Polish and Ukranian immigrants of the early part of the last century, they have since transcended ethnicity to become the soul food of the region. Well, them and the cabbage-and-noodle dish known as haluski, but that’s a recipe for another day.
Sadly, with the passing of all the grandmothers born before the war, good pierogi is increasingly hard to find. These days, their daughters and granddaughters have jobs, and the old parish kitchens where women would gather every Friday to gossip and make pierogi have all but vanished. It’s a dying art in a dying region.
And so, a nice project for a rainy afternoon: Pierogi.
34 ounces (8 cups) all purpose flour
.68 oz (2 1/2 teaspoons) salt
4 eggs, lightly beaten
10 oz (1 1/4 cups) water, at room temperature
1/2 cup butter, softened
BY HAND:
Place flour in a large bowl and whisk in the salt. Add eggs and water and butter and mix until rough. Turn out onto a lightly floured surface and knead just until all ingredients are combined and homogeneous, and the dough is smooth and silky - about 3-5 minutes. Do not over-miz as this dough needs to be plastic (extensible), not elastic (will snap back).
BY MIXER:
Alternatively, combine all ingredients in bowl of stand mixer. Mix with paddle attachment until roughly mixed, and then switch to the dough hook and mix on low speed for no more than 2-3 minutes or until dough is homogeneous, smooth, and silky. Do not over-mix as this dough needs to be plastic (extensible), not elastic (will snap back).
BOTH METHODS:
Make and cool your fillings as the dough rests, or have them prepared and ready.
Minced mushrooms sauteed in oil with a little onion, garlic and salt
Plain sauerkraut (I use my parent’s homemade)
Sauerkraut combined with the above mushrooms (YUM!)
Mashed potato with sauteed minced onion and garlic, seasoned with salt and pepper and a tiny dash of nutmeg
The above potatoes plus gouda, smoked gouda, or cheddar
Ricotta or cottage cheese, with a little salt and pepper, plus optionally some paprika
Leeks sauteed in butter with a little garlic (to make the ravioli that the Afghanis know as “aushak")
Winter squash baked with sugar and cinnamon
Winter squash baked and combined with a little garlic and sauteed leeks
Pureed peas with mint, salt and pepper
Blueberry or blackberry preserves, with ricotta or cottage cheese
Roll out the dough in batches, taking about a baseball sized lump at a time. Roll each iteration on a lightly floured surface until it is approximately 1/8 inch thick. Using a large biscuit cutter or the end of a large (20 oz) tomato can (or a 14 oz can if you desire, though this smaller size is more difficult to work with), cut out rounds from the dough. You may re-roll any scraps once only, before they get too dry and too tough to use.
(Although it is surely heresy to say so, I strongly recommend you buy some frozen commercial pierogi (for example Mrs T’s) if you need to be reminded of the proper shape, size, and thickness. Homemade tend to turn out a bit thicker, which is not a bad thing at all, but you want to avoid making your dumplings too doughy.)
Depending on the size of cutter you use, place between 2 teaspoons and 1 heaping tablespoon of filling at the center of a round of dough - enough for a nice bite of filling. Fold the round over and crimp edge to create a sealed half-moon. You may use a moistened finger on the inside edge of the pierogi if you’ve having trouble getting them to seal. Optionally, you may crimp each sealed edge with a fork to make them look pretty. There should be about 1/3 inch to 1/2 inch of crimped edge when you’re done, to ensure a good seal.
Place individually on lightly floured wax paper on baking sheets, making sure the pierogis do not touch. As you fill each pan, lightly flour the tops of the pierogis and cover the sheet pan with plastic wrap.
Cook fresh in boiling water until the pierogis float.
Alternatively, place each pan of pierogis in the freezer for at least 45 minutes before removing in layers separated by wax paper to labelled freezer bags or containers. I like to freeze in batches of a dozen.
Cook frozen pierogis in boiling water for about 5 minutes or until they float.
Serve tossed with onions sauteed in butter until soft, salt and pepper. Sour cream and applesauce are essential accoutrements to most traditional variations. The squash and pea versions proposed above would be nice with a lamb or pork roast. The cheese and berry versions are unsurpassed drunk food, especially if you happen to have a deep fryer in your home.
I’m sorry, but I always thought of Jenna Bush as the fat twin, not the blond twin. I don’t know why, but I’ve only been able to remember how to tell the twins apart by their relative chunkiness to one another rather than by hair color. Of course, one day I noticed that one is weaselly-faced like her father and the other one has that weird wicked stepmother face where she’s seemingly friendly, but going to slit your throat. Oh. I guess I haven’t told you guys that white people kind of scare me sometimes because they look like reptiles. (I must have watched V on tv too much as a kid.) Mrs. Shrub distinctly lacks an upper lip which is what makes me think that about her. But I digress.
At any rate, the fat one is getting married to the scion of a prominent Virginia Republican family. Whoopdeedoo. Not sure why CNN is posting it as breaking news, but I do like the stupid haircut that boy has at a black tie affair. It’s awful and Karl Rove should have done something about it. I am sure SOMEONE at the White House could point that boy to a decent hairdresser of Pennsylvania Avenue. Shit, I know a few people who can do a bang up fade with a pair of clippers for free. As always, I’m glad to oblige with a weed wacker. As I once told another fat twin, “Moppy hair only looked good on the Beatles, now get a haircut.”
Apparently Google works, because some enterprising soul found a two-year old post of mine about infusing vodkas and had some questions about the construction of cayenne vodka. Well, Drunkle John is here to help!!
Amelia S. writes:
> Hello,
>
> I read your blog post from a loooong time ago about making infused vodkas. Apparently, you have cornered the online market for cayenne pepper vodka recipes. I grew some cayennes this year and want to make vodka, so I have a couple of questions for you:
>
> 1) If I only used a single cayenne, do you think that would tone down the heat?
> 2) Just out of curiosity, what do you think would happen if I left the pepper in the bottle permanently? I ask because I think it would be pretty. But, perhaps, deadly.
> 3) How did your ginger, orange, cranberry, and poblano vodkas turn out??
>
> Loved your post. Will probably link to it in my blog soon enough.
>
> - Amelia
If you were to do just one pepper and leave it in the bottle permanently, I doubt anything bad would happen, and it would be pretty. But for cayenne vodka, I would recommend putting more than one pepper in, because cayenne flavor is a little one-dimensional and my suspicion is that one pepper only would give you heat but little pepper aroma or taste.
To tone down the heat and let some of the pepper character come through, you would probably want to remove the seeds and the inner membranes from the peppers before infusing - that means the seeds, the white pith, AND the very thin layer of whitish-pink veined flesh on the inside of the pepper. The skin and the deep red flesh are where the flavor and aroma are, but there’s still some heat there. If you find that the resulting infusion lacks the desired punch after a week or two, put in another whole pepper with seeds included, and sample daily until the desired pain level is reached.
But know this - capsaicin is much heavier than ethyl alcohol or water and tends to sink to the bottom of the bottle. No matter which way you go, shake the bottle before each serving or that last couple ounces is going to be undrinkable.
As for my crazy experiments, the poblano wasn’t too great - poblanos have a grassy character that dominated, without giving too much heat. Next time I will probably use seeded and de-veined habaneros. The ginger was merely OK - it takes a surprising amount of ginger to impart a distinctive ginger character to vodka. The cranberry was pretty good - a beautify ruby hue (the fruit came out of the infusion pallid and flabby - it really gave up a lot of character) with a nice tartness. The orange was extremely successful, a beautiful color with a lot of orange character.
If you’re going to infuse vodkas, I’d recommend not doing what we did, which is to buy the cheapest stuff we could get and then try to filter out the heavier molecules that impart harshness. Despite good initial indications, it only works so well and the cheap vodka doesn’t mix as well as even midrange hooch. Instead, get a decent bottle of grain vodka - a midrange one like Gordon’s - and use that. The base hooch really ought to be drinkable on its own.
I haven’t tried infusing in a while, and you remind me that I’ve been meaning to try a spiced vodka with cinnamon, green cardamom, clove, allspice and maybe just a tiny bit of cumin. Now I have a project! Thanks!
I completely forgot to mention, but the other day Ministry Crony and future Hugo winner EDog has a published novel now available for sale. The story in question is The Milkman, which Ian was kind enough to let me read a while back. It is fun, weird and strangely comforting. It’s gonzo science fiction in an era that doesn’t look overly kindly at gonzo, or science fiction. It tries to answer one of the burning questions of our time: “What’s the deal with aliens and anal probes?” And succeeds in finding an answer. Swordfights, bikers, spaceships and some embarrassing bodily functions. What more could you ask for?
Buy the damn book already, you won’t regret it. You can get your greasy mits on a copy here (author’s preference) or here or here.