The Cooking Critic

Apparently, the world is even less interested in salads than I am. Nobody seems to care about the Broiled Shrimp and Spinach Salad I raved about recently. Or at least, few people cared enough to actually access the recipe. The much-less healthy Sausage Balls, however, are wildly popular. So since y’all like cheese and meat, I figure sugar and butter can’t be far behind. Hence, an entire entry devoted to icing.

With multiple Taurus birthdays, which timed themselves well with my practice for a cupcake competition, I’ve been trying out many different icings. Mostly buttercream in nature with an occasional ganache thrown in. Kurt says I’m “a bit dorky” for entering a cupcake competition, but I think most people would have no problems with the fact that I’m bringing more iced cupcakes into the world. You have to make the world a better place somehow. Angelina Jolie helps the children of Namibia; I bake cupcakes then sloppily ice them.

I started with this basic buttercream recipe that we regularly use in my family, and for my first effort turned it into a Peanut Butter Icing by substituting the peanut butter for the butter. I also added lots of salt because I can’t stand super-sweet peanut butter. I made a Chocolate Glaze to complement it (2 cups melted semi-sweet chocolate chips with 1 cup cream whisked in until smooth), and then swirled the glaze and the icing on top the cupcake to make a cupcake version of the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup. Mmm, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cupcakes.

I decided to turn another batch of buttercream icing into Chai Icing by adding cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice, ginger, even some crushed black tea leaves—though sadly, didn’t bother with measurements. It was an unusually spicy and mysterious icing. I’m trying to think of its female celebrity equivalent. Grace Kelly? Sophia Loren? Hmm, not sure. But it would go well with a pear or apple cake.

Next up was a White Chocolate Ganache. This was my first foray into ganache-making, which typically consists of heated cream, some form of chocolate and a liqueur mixed in. I’ll be visiting ganache again. As much as I love buttercream, ganache was a nice way to mix things up, especially when it topped a thin layer of raspberry preserves or lemon curd.

Maple Syrup Icing is next on the icing queue (possibly with some stewed apples mixed in or used for garnish), and then I think I will be cupcaked out. I may even be forced to eat another salad….

Corn Soup is not a chowder. And don’t call it a chowder. That’s like calling a “Christine,” “Kristin.” Two different words, two different connotations. I’ve actually asked around about chowders before (these are the sort of conversations people are forced to have with me), and I’ve never been able to come up with a clear definition for chowder. My own observations have led me to deduce chowders include a puréed potato to give them a denser consistency. Then I received Food Lover’s Companion (basically, the ultimate dictionary for foodies) as a gift, which does not confirm my made-up definition for chowder. Hmph. Here’s how Food Lover’s Companion describes chowder: “a thick, chunky seafood soup.” See, it’s already gotten itself in a hole because we’ve all heard of corn chowder, and corn chowder doesn’t have seafood in it. But later it says, “The term [chowder] is also used to describe any thick, rich soup containing chunks of food (for instance, corn chowder.)” And that seems really broad and sweeping to me.

This Corn Soup is more like a bisque because it has cream and flour for thickening. Here I shall describe this corn soup bisque: smooth, well-seasoned, complex, and rich without being too rich. I think this is a good description. Food Lover’s Companion describes bisques this way: “a thick, rich soup usually consisting of puréed seafood and cream.” Clearly, Food Lover’s Companion is in cahoots with the seafood industry. Tomato bisque doesn’t include seafood. Corn soup bisque doesn’t include seafood. At least they hedged themselves by using the word “usually” this time.

My family likes to call this “Cron Soup” because of a misspelled sign for corn we once saw in Ohio. I made my mother email me this recipe because I suddenly wanted it and don’t own the cookbook it came from. Thanks, Mom! I know what a pain typing up recipes can be. Lately, I feel like I spend half of my life typing up recipes. The other half is devoted to Karaoke.

Adjustments: Half and half for the light cream, and I just sprinkled a little bit of nutmeg in rather than use the full ¼ teaspoon. I know nutmeg in soups is all the rage right now, but I’m wary of this rage. For reheating, add a little milk or cream to thin it out if it overly thickens in the refrigerator. And pardon my picture. I accidentally caramelized the onions (it happens!), and I cut up the chives in a manner that might be best described as haphazard.

Assessment: You will be amazed at how easy yet tasty this soup is. You will be sad to learn the cookbook I got this from is out-of-print, yet you will be happy to hear you can buy a previously owned edition for $.52.

>> Buy Easy Cooking for Today by Pol Martin or Food Lover’s Companion by Sharon Tyler Herbst.

Blue cheese has a big personality. He’s a little obnoxious, truth be told, but he does liven up a salad. Still, he can be so overpowering that not everybody likes him. I’ve found many people so strongly opposed to blue cheese, that I actually crumble it up in a bowl and serve it on the side rather than sprinkling it in the serving bowl with the salad. That way the blue cheese haters can go about their business. Navigating a salad with blue cheese present when you’re trying to avoid him can be tricky, indeed.

It took me a while to warm up to blue cheese myself, but I like him now. Still, a hunk of blue cheese goes a long way, and I’m only going to eat so many salads. This leaves me trying to find other uses for this pungent dairy product. Spinach with Blue Cheese and Pasta is one.

Adjustments: I like spinach, so I add 3 handfuls of it instead of 2. I’d even consider 4 handfuls!

Assessment: Quick and satisfying, and a good way to use your blue cheese. I don’t think I would purchase the product specifically to make this dish, but I’ll happily make it when I already have some in the house. It’s a good, hearty, easy pasta meal to eat before a night out on the town. But it doesn’t reheat very well—the sauce tends to take the form of its former crumbly blue cheese self once placed in the fridge.

>>Buy Real Fast Food by Nigel Slater.

Patti Dixon, friend of my mother’s and all-round great lady, first introduced me to Tomato-Dill Soup. Tomato-Dill and I (as I call him now for short) hit it off right away. In fact, I was so intrigued by Tomato-Dill, that I nearly risked not meeting all the other delicious characters that were a part of this particular progressive dinner. I went back for thirds of this soup—no joke—and this was during the appetizer segment of the evening, so there was still a lot of food to go. Luckily, the servings were small, and I didn’t spoil my dinner. But at that moment I didn’t care. I was willing to throw out the window everything my mother ever told me about spoiling my appetite to be with Tomato-Dill. I felt that strongly.

A couple years later, Tomato-Dill and I are still on speaking terms but have never been able to recreate that same magic that was there on our first encounter. I blame myself. I’m easily distracted by other soups; I didn’t make an honest attempt to nurture my relationship with Tomato-Dill; and when I created the soup from scratch myself, it just didn’t taste as good as Patti’s, quite frankly.

I’m not sure what Patti does to her soups, but I suspect it involves witchcraft. My mother claims it involves sweet onions instead of brown or white. This could be the case too.

Adjustments: Since I had fresh thyme around, I used a tablespoon of it instead of the teaspoon of dried it called for. (I assume it’s calling for dried. When a recipe doesn’t specify, that’s usually the case, right?) But that’s the standard conversion: 1 tablespoon of fresh herbs equals 1 teaspoon of its dried counterpart. Also, I put in way more than 1 tsp of sugar. Forgot how much, but just do it to taste.

Assessment: This makes a lot of soup, and it’s a bisque, by the way. I thought about giving some to Adam, vegetarian and neighbor, but then it started raining, and I wasn’t about to walk down the street in the rain. Then I got sick and this led to the natural conclusion that I should hoard all the soup to myself and eat it for every meal, which I did. It might not have tasted as sublime as when Patti made it, but it still tasted good and felt excellent on a sore throat. Reunited at last!

I’m going to give you a hot tip. When making Chocolate Fondue, use cream, when making Chocolate-Covered Strawberries, use shortening to create that smooth-but-set exterior. There you have it. I know many of you have spent sleepless nights wondering about this, so now you can rest easy knowing you can create the perfect creamy or hardened chocolate companion for your strawberries. Let’s hear that collective sigh of relief.

Von’s had strawberries on sale (buy one pack, get one free), and since I absolutely cannot resist strawberries, I purchased them. It’s a lot of strawberries for one girl, but I started off at a decent pace—having a bit of a sweet tooth that evening, I made a fondue out of Nestlé’s chocolate chips, and enjoyed my snack immensely while watching The Constant Gardner.

Fast-forward to a couple of days later—there’s still quite a few strawberries in my fridge and Shayna Maskell’s Oscar Party on the horizon. Why not make something where others can enjoy these strawberries before they become inedible in a few days? At first, I considered making Berry-Capped Cupcakes, something I made once before with some buy-one-get-one-free strawberries. My memory recalled that these cupcakes were good, but not spectacular. Still, an excellent food to put strawberries into if you don’t want them to go bad. But why are there so few good strawberry recipes in the world that I constantly have to turn to Berry-Capped Cupcakes anyways? I’d love to meet other nice strawberry recipes, but they just aren’t showing their face. But more than my feeling of frustration for being trapped in this relationship with Berry-Capped Cupcakes was the feeling that I really really didn’t want to go to the grocery store to get the cupcake tins and buttermilk. Yet, I needed to show up with something at the Oscar party, and I didn’t want to bring alcohol since I had no plans to partake of the alcohol (taking a break from liquor and beer—as it turns out, they don’t seem to help my half-marathon training. Wine, on the other hand, helps immensely.) The only answer to the must-bring-something -but-don’t-want-it-to-take-a-lot-of-time-and-am-worried-the-strawberries-may-go-bad-soon dilemma was to make chocolate-covered strawberries. So they were made.

Making chocolate-covered strawberries is kind of fun because it’s easy and makes you feel fancy. I used my makeshift double boiler (see pic), which creates softer heat and a smoother mixture than a pot directly on the fire—I think that’s what it does anyways. Threw some leftover Trader Joe’s Pound Plus Bittersweet Chocolate in the pot (not bad, but if you don’t mind spending a little more money on your chocolate, buy some Valrhona—it’s worth every penny) along with some shortening and some Kahlúa, and I was in business. Then I created my little army of Chocolate-Covered Strawberries.

Assessment: Both strawberry recipes were totally toothsome. (Sorry—word of the day—had to use it.)

Tim McKeon asked me the other day what my favorite meal was. I replied that was like asking which is your favorite child. He seemed to think both were legitimate questions. So I told him, I’m really into making Cream of Celery Soup these days. He nodded, said nothing, then turned around and started speaking to someone else. I think he was disappointed with my answer.

This recipe was made only because of the extra celery in my refrigerator one day, and I tell you, celery will never go bad in my house again. I want to jump up and down with joy when I realize I have enough celery left over to make this soup. No. Really.

Adjustments: I got this Cream of Celery Soup recipe online (hit the link and scroll down till you spot it), and the fellow who posted this version credits Joy of Cooking for the inspiration. The recipe doesn’t say to heat the soup up after adding the milk, cornstarch and cream, but you need to, so it will thicken and be warm. I assume everyone wants their soup warm. Also, a healthy dose of salt makes it taste good.

Assessment: I love it. And so do Mom and Dad. It’s easy too. But I’m afraid my picture won’t help enliven Cream of Celery Soup’s undeserved boring reputation, but I’m posting the pic anyways.

Once upon a time I didn’t like mushrooms. I went through a sad, mushroom-less existence until I happened upon my 20s, then suddenly I became a convert. I wish I could remember the exact moment the mushroom caught my eye, what I was wearing, if I sauntered across a crowded dance floor toward the buffet table initially distracted by some canapés while “Do You Believe in Magic” played in the background. I don’t know how it happened exactly, but clearly I saw the mushroom warranted my attention. Now, to make up for my earlier mistake, I consume as many mushrooms as humanly possible. I’m not picky: shitake, portobello, crimini. I love them all. If a dish on a menu includes this vegetable, it’s very likely I’ll order it for the mushrooms alone. The steak that comes with it is just a bonus.

With my love of the mushroom has come an addiction to cream of mushroom soup—there are worse addictions—and I make it regularly. I have a recipe from a William-Sonoma book that takes some time but is exceptionally good, and then I have this Mushroom Soup from Real Fast Food, which is much easier, not quite as wonderful, but still amazingly satisfying. This soup is especially good when you dunk some slices of baguette in it. (I recently became a dunker of bread into soups and sauces as well.) A glass of red wine tastes good with it too.

Adjustments: I heated the soup again after whirring it around with the cream in the food processor. And since my milk’s expiration date had passed, I used double the cream and no milk at all—the recipe called for equal parts milk and cream. Also I added a bit of Madeira wine while the soup warmed back up and sprinkled chopped parsley on the finished product. And this is a thin mushroom soup, so if you like yours thicker, reduce the liquids.

Assessment: Soup! I love it! This one’s good! But not spectacular! But easy! I recommend it!

There are too few good homemade lunches out there. Luckily, Hot Chicken with Cream and Garlic Sandwich is changing the landscape of lunches round the world. I love Real Fast Food for including something so basic—chicken, garlic, butter, cream and fresh herbs heated and served on a baguette. I also like that the recipe contains the word “glop” as an instruction: “[use] enough cream to make a thick ‘glop.’”

Adjustments: I used the roasted chicken still in my fridge rather than cooking up a new one and threw in the cilantro and parsley I had on hand.

Assessment: Like it!

So the Thyme-Syrah Fish left me with this packet of extra thyme. What’s a girl to do except try the recipe suggested on the box? So Chicken Breast with Fresh Thyme Cream Sauce for dinner it was. I’m not sure how I managed to forget what a pain plucking thyme is, but I did. This deceptive recipe only has a few ingredients (chicken, flour, butter, garlic, sherry, chicken broth, cream and thyme) but still managed to make me late for meeting someone for drinks. Does anybody out there have a better method to get those thyme leaves off the stem other than to run your forefinger and thumb down the herb to make the little leaves pop off? When I measured the leaves and saw I only had a tablespoon, I couldn’t help thinking “Is that all?” Luckily ITunes started playing “This Bird Can Sing” at that moment and buoyed me through the next half tablespoon.

Adjustments: Only full-salt chicken broth instead of reduced salt broth. Oh and I used thinly sliced chicken breasts, which helped speed up the cooking process.

Assessment: Despite my complaints, the dish did taste quite nice, though creamier than I would have liked. I could end up making it again if I happen to have a bunch of thyme and time on me–(I tried to figure out another way to avoid that corny statement and just couldn’t think of anything.) If I were to make it again, I might add less cream or not reduce the chicken broth/sherry mixture as much as I did. A second person helping with the thyme might cut down on the prep time and make the dish seem more worthwhile.  But even as I write this, I just can’t bring myself to take the time to type in the recipe.  That says a lot.