Chestnuts Roasting on an Old Gas Stove...

Well, Jack Frost was not really nipping at my nose this holiday season. It's been surprisingly warm here in New York, but I still felt the need to get into the holiday spirit. What better way to get into that spirit than with fresh, straight-from-the-oven, roasted chestnuts? And they really couldn't be any easier to make.

I had eaten chestnuts, fresh from the shell once before as a child. I had taken winter holiday with my family in England. We were out for an evening stroll at a holiday fair, the air was bitter cold, my nose was turning rosy from the temperature, and my hands were jammed into my dad's pockets. (His hands were always warm, no matter the temperature outside.) My dad stopped to buy a little glassine bag of chestnuts, that truly were roasting over an open fire. Quickly I grasped the bag, anxious to receive any bit of warmth from this new snack food. Slowly I pried the nut from its hardened exterior and tasted the mellow, sweet flesh. I remember holding the nut on my tongue for far too long as it grew soggy and began to disintegrate, but I was hoping to warm myself from the inside out.

It's funny how I had forgotten this memory until I was at the market last week, and literally bumped into a container of imported Italian chestnuts. Shiny and raw, they were simply crying out to be taken home. But what to do with a chestnut and no open fire? Well roast them in the oven that's what, and here's how: It is important to score the bottom of each nut with an "X." This causes the steam to be released, and the nut becomes much easier to peel. Then roast in a 425 degree oven for 20-30 minutes, or until the shell begins to blister and crack. Remove from the oven, and peel to your heart's content, when the nut is cool enough to touch, but still warm enough to make your mouth purse when you take that initial bite.

Chestnuts are so pleasing when peeled. They look like golden little brains, and are delightfully simple in taste-- rich, slightly sweet, and meaty. I ate some unadorned, standing in the kitchen, peeling then eating, peeling then eating, a gentle rhythm guiding me through the process. When I had my fill of eating, I continued to peel. I then crushed the remains, and had them that evening sauteed in butter, and added to brussel sprouts-- a true winter time treat!

If you haven't had roasted chestnuts yet and want to give them a try, have no fear now that Christmas time is over... There is always New Year's!

Don Those Birkenstocks and Chow Down!

This post is originally from Jan. 30, 2006. In the winter I find this granola, packed with dried fruit, and flaked coconut, particularly sunny.

There is quite a bit of lore surrounding granola, and I'm not exactly sure why. I do not chug shots of wheatgrass juice before delving into a cup overflowing with fruits and nuts scavanged on my last camping trip, but I do enjoy a good granola from time to time. But I am particular about just what goes into my granolas-- no sunflower seeds, no walnuts, not too much cinnamon, and preferabley no raisins. See...picky. So the easiest way for me to enjoy my fiber, is to make it myself.

So there are many ingredients that I do not favor in my granola, but just what do I like? Well, in the batch that I made there were coarsely chopped hazelnuts, shavings of dried coconut, chopped dried apricots, a handful or so of dried cherries (for sweetness), and of course, rolled oats. Simple and delicious, the granola was lightly kissed with cinnamon, and flavored with a touch of pure vanilla.

How did granola get its oh-so-healthy reputation, when in fact many recipes for it are drowning in vegetable oil, and struggling under mounds of sweeteners? All granola does not have to be this way. In fact this granola uses no unsightly oils, but it does rely upon a bit of melted butter. The butter, when melted, becomes toasty, lending a richness to this cereal. First, melt 2 tablespoons of butter in a saucepan, then add 1/2 cup of chopped nuts, and toast gently over medium heat. The nuts will begin to brown, contributing to the toasty flavor of the butter. Then 1/4 cup of brown sugar, 2 teaspoons of honey, and 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract are added to the nut mixture. Continue cooking over low heat until the sugar has melted, about 3 minutes.

Then it's time to go wild, add the nut mixture to 1 1/2 cups rolled oats, and any other ingredients you like. I added 1/4 cup chopped dried apricots, 1/2 cup flaked coconut, a handful of dried cherries, and a light dusting of ground cinnamon. Toss the granola mixture well, as you want the butter to gently coat the oats. Bake on a parchment lined cookie sheet at 325 degrees for one half hour, tossing every 10 minutes. Your granola should be golden brown, and the dried fruit should just be beginning to color.

Then each time you dig in to a batch of your own homemade granola, you too can kick off your Birkenstocks, sway calmly to Sugaree , let your braided hair down, and be proud of the nourishing food in which you are about to take part.

Everything's Better with Butter...Cream

This posting is originally from October 17, 2005. I've made this buttercream recipe again and again, and I often get requests for the recipe. So, here it is...

My uncle used to be a chef. He worked for a catering company in the 80's. On his last visit, we were chatting about the work he used to do, hors d'oeuvre de riguer, and monstrous brides. Somewhere in this same conversation we were discussing wedding cakes, and he mentioned that apricot buttercream was all of the rage in the 80's. Apricot buttercream? Why that sounds delicious! How did such a delicious combination of butter, powdered sugar, and apricot preserves ever fall out of favor? Why aren't people making huge vats of apricot buttercream and frosting everything in sight? This delightful concoction was something I had to try.

Now longtime readers know that I claim to not be much of a baker, but I love a little something sweet on an almost daily basis. And while I might not be a baker of grandiose proportions, I do have an active imagination, an imagination that dreams of creating adorable confections that lead me to semi-homemade creations of the week.

In my book, there is nothing wrong with using a cake mix from time to time. In fact, there are people out there (you know who you are, and wave your cheating flag high) who have never made a cake entirely from scratch. While cake from a mix is fine, homemade frosting is truly delicious, easy to make, and will bring the cake from an average, perfectly acceptable dessert to a stupendous, dreamy sweet of immense proportions.

How about some Babycakes with Apricot Buttercream and Chocolate Ganache? Bigger than a petit-fours yet smaller than a slice of cake, these cakes feel all the more special because they are individual, self-contained units. It's like receiving your very own diminutive cake for dessert. With a biscuit cutter, simply cut out individual rounds from a standard sheet cake. Slice the rounds in two, fill with the homemade buttercream of your choice, and spoon luscious, rich chocolate ganache over the top. I adorned each babycake with a single candy violet, for both color, and the crispy, perfume-like flavor.

There is something so delightfully greedy, and self-indulgent about having a babycake versus a slice of actual cake for dessert. Both are charming and decidedly sweet, but only one is well...bourgie. So go ahead, all you cheaters out there (me included), mix up a batch of buttercream, and go to town.

Twisted and Tied

There is a lot of street food to be had in New York. Some of it is tantalizing (candied nuts of all assortment, crisply coated in a nubby sweet shell), others sub-par (like those steely coffee carts on wheels, that serve coffee so weak it is as if the bean was simply waved through boiling water), and some are staunch standards-- like the good ol' pretzel. But for those of you who are not living in a city teeming with street vendors, they can be made at home, using this recipe.

Yeasty, and warm from the oven, making, then eating these pretzels, gave me a sense of accomplishment-- the dough was shall we say, ELAS-TIC! I would actually say the recipe is a good place to start for the yeast novice. The dough is sturdy and malleable, and if the directions are followed, you will have a mound of soft dough in no time, just waiting to be played with, and play with it you will. I rolled, and rolled, and rolled, but my intended cigarette shaped dough looked more like a big, fat cigar.

Frustration got the better of me, and after knotting just a few pretzel shaped rolls, I went instead for the straight log, calling them mini-baguettes to make myself feel better about the whole ordeal. For the toppings I went for the traditional salt, using coarse Kosher salt, and the sweeter, cinnamon sugar. Both were delightful, the pretzels were wholesome, just the right hand-held snack. So give these a try, maybe you will have better luck with the rolling. Or maybe I'll see a bunch of buff, tricep-strong people cruising around this holiday season.

Well, I'm off to California for awhile. There is family to see, and strong coffee to drink, but check back in every once in awhile, I'll be posting the greatest hits of Nosheteria from the archive. Write soon!

Puff My Pastry Anytime

I love getting new cookbooks, scurrying home from the store, fresh books in hand, cracking the spine for the very first time, and voraciously reading each recipe, the promise of trying a new dish that will perhaps become an old favorite. Sometimes though it can be a bit anti-climactic, the recipe just, ehh. But there are times when it can be revelatory, and I just had one of those times.

My purchase was rather simple, a copy of Camille le Foll's compendium entitled, Modern French Classics. But it wasn't until that evening, when I properly sat down with a cup of tea, and the book poised neatly on my lap, that my stomach began to rumble with anxious hunger. Each recipe looked better than the next, but the dessert section, with assortments of cakes, tartes, clafoutis, and delicate cookies, is what really had me.

For the inaugural recipe I decided on Kouign-Aman, a yeasted sweet bread, one half puff pastry, one half hearty bread. Kissed with sugar, and laden with butter, this homey dessert proved to be just the cake that calls to you in the early morning to be eaten with a smooth cup of cafe au lait.

The dough does contain yeast, giving the "cake" an airy consistency, but have no fear, this is not a delicate dough. It goes through several rises, but you musn't be hush-hushed around the house while the yeast does it's magic. This is a delightfully elastic dough, smooth, with bubbles of air throughout. Folding in the butter, and sprinkling the dough with a bit of sugar, then baking the handmade patty on a bit more sugar, which caramelizes during the baking process, the Kouign-Aman did not disappoint. If you would like the recipe for this not-to-sweet, morning-type cake, the recipe is on the Daily Specials page.