The Gift that Keeps on Giving

I got a small container of sourdough starter from a friend last fall.  I already have a grade-schooler who’s been begging for a dog, and I have successfully put him off for a few years.  So I was a bit reluctant to commit to the feeding and care of a new “pet”, but my friend insisted, assuring me that if I got sick of taking care of it, it could actually even be thrown into the freezer for a few months, then thawed and started back on its feeding cycle.  I took it home and opened the container to take a whiff.  Yuck.  Tiny air bubbles dotted the surface of this somewhat runny, off-white goo.

The “pet” fortunately came with instructions, and a suggestion that this particular starter might be over 150 years old, passed down continuously from pioneers that crossed the west via the Oregon Trail.  My friend had brought it from Washington State, and the guy that she got it from has had his for 30 or 40 years.  No kidding.  I was intrigued.  She also gave me other recipes; I had heard of sourdough bread, of course, but who knew about sourdough pancakes?  And a sourdough chocolate cake that doesn’t need baking powder?  Crazy!  So, I took my starter home, read the care and feeding instructions, and diligently made it grow enough to try the pancakes the next weekend.  Yowsa!  I threw in some frozen blueberries from our Michigan u-pick haul last summer, and breakfast was just heavenly!

Since that first weekend I’ve probably made the pancakes a couple more times, the cake twice (with an icing made of half a jar of doce de leite caramel I brought back from Brazil), and10 loaves of sourdough bread (I’ve got the recipe memorized).  I’ve mistreated the starter (accidentally added some gluten-free flour blend—blech!), ignored the starter (it had a funny, brownish “skin” on top when I got back from my two-week Brazil trip), added too much liquid to the starter (I balanced it out with some more flour the next time), used evaporated milk instead of regular milk, left it out on the counter for 2-3 days, then back in the fridge…all with no lasting ill effects.  The darn’ thing is still thriving.

To feed the starter, you simply add equal parts of milk and flour, stir it up, cover it, and leave it out overnight.  You shouldn’t add new ingredients that total more volume than the starter itself.  If you feel funny about leaving milk out on the counter because it will go bad, I assure you it will go bad.  And that’s what you want.  Sourdough starter is essentially a bacterial process of fermentation in a controlled environment.  As long as you keep your utensils and hands clean, change out the non-reactive container every so often, and keep the starter covered, you are relatively safe from the bad bacteria.  Also, keep in mind that the bread or cake or pancakes are completely cooked.  Finally, if you really can’t handle leaving milk out on the counter overnight, just use canned evaporated milk.  The flavor will be slightly stronger, but still quite tasty.  The rest of the time it can sit in your fridge untouched for two to three weeks.  Sourdough supposedly has health benefits owing to the fermentation process; sourdough bread is reputed to have a lower glycemic index than its non-sourdough white bread cousin.

The bread couldn’t be easier; it’s mostly a question of timing.  I need to start it the night before a day or morning when I have a two-hour and 15 minute block of time to be home.  I’ve also timed it where I’ve left it out the maximum for both the first and second rise, then baked it right after work and before a 6:30 start evening potluck.  First, you put three cups of unbleached unbromated white flour in a glass or ceramic bowl, whisk in ¼ teaspoon of yeast, and 1 teaspoon of salt.  If my starter is looking more liquid than solid, I add another ¼  cup of flour.  After the dry ingredients are well blended, add ½ cup of the gooey starter and 1 ½ cups of water.  I always use filtered water for bread, as I’ve heard that chlorine interferes with the rising of dough, especially in yeast breads.  I figure I’ll be on the safe side with the sourdough as well.  Mix.  The instructions tell me not to worry or fuss too much about the shaggy mess of dough.  Then I cover it with dreaded (but hopefully BPC-free) plastic wrap and let it sit on the counter for 12-18 hours.  I re-feed my starter at the same time, replacing once again the ½ cup of starter I removed with ½ cup of milk and ½ cup of flour, then leaving it on the counter overnight.

Quite truthfully, I’ve always wanted a Kitchen Aid stand mixer, and have never been able to settle on a color, size, or model.  The cherry red is gorgeous and cheerful.  My friend in Brazil has a snappy orange model from the 60s or 70s.  My other friend has a white one her husband found by the side of the road and repaired.  Should I opt for the stainless steel/chrome version, like my other appliances?  Decisions, decisions.  But I think subconsciously I haven’t yet bought one because I think it’s slightly frivolous.  After all, I mix up the dough for my favorite bread with the simplest of tools:  a fork.  And then later, my hands.  Just can’t justify a Kitchen Aid for that….

After it sits, the bread dough looks gooey and you’re wondering how in the world you’re going to knead it.  I usually sprinkle it with flour before upturning the bowl onto the floured countertop, then sprinkle the other side before kneading.  In fact, I probably add another ½ cup of flour.  The instructions say to “knead about five times.”  I don’t know what that means, so I knead lightly for a minute, then use my plastic wrap to line the bowl, put the dough in, and wrap it up.  Wait another hour.  Or a couple of hours.

I have a small Le Creuset oval roaster that I have found to be useful for very few things, so it is now my sourdough bread pot.  The cast iron is great for this bread, as it really has to “cook” before baking.  I put the pot, lid on top, in the oven and preheat to 450 degrees.  With a minimum of thirty minutes later, the pot is nice and hot.  I give it a quick spritz with canola oil spray, then dump the dough in.  The lid goes on, and the bread cooks in the pot in the oven for 25 minutes.  At 25 minutes, the lid comes off, and I set the timer for another 10 minutes.  I make sure to remove the bread immediately from its pot and let it cool on a wire rack.  If you can wait that long!  Have a bread knife and the butter dish handy when it comes out of the oven.

The crust is sometimes tough, so I need to study how to take care of that.  I suspect that not using more finely milled bread flour might be partly to blame.  Or…maybe I’ll pass that duty on to the next person taking some of the starter.  Who’s game….?

Food from the Great Depression

My father was a child of the Great Depression, born in 1925.  During his childhood, my grandparents moved back and forth from southern Illinois, where they had a house and garden, to Chicago, where my grandfather was a hired laborer.  He worked on constructing the then-brand-new transportation system, called the Elevated Train, or—as we know it—the El.  When in southern Illinois, their family could live cheaply out of the garden, or from the goodwill of their farmer neighbors and family, but in Chicago, life was much more expensive.  My father often told of being “sick to death” of cornbread and navy beans, but the family subsisted for long winters on this simple meal.

My recipe is more elaborate, but based on my grandmother’s ingredients, which are still relatively inexpensive.  I don’t know what dried navy beans cost back then, but I do know that a ham bone was cheaper than a ham from the butcher, and provided a lot of nutrients and flavor from the bits of pork and marrow.

I bought a ham bone from our Triple S meat-buying club for about $2.  My small bag of organic dried navy beans were more expensive than the non-organic ones (and have probably been on the shelf a bit longer), but I still want to adhere to buying the organic products whenever possible.  I soaked them overnight to try to make them less gassy.  In the morning, I got out my slow cooker, rinsed the beans, and dumped them in.  I chopped and added one of those previously mentioned super-potent onions from Greg, some bay leaves, the juice from an organic lemon, a couple of cloves of minced garlic, some organic chicken stock from a carton (about 4 cups), a teaspoon of salt, and about 4 more cups of water.   I wish I had used some thawed-out homemade chicken stock from a Triple S chicken carcass that I had simmered and strained a few weeks back, but unfortunately, I completely forgot to thaw it in time. White pepper would have also added a little flavor, now that I think of it.  I threw in the ham bone, started the slow cooker on low, and programmed it for eight hours.

When I opened the door at 5:30, I was greeted with an amazing aroma.  I grabbed my mixing bowl and preheated the oven to 400 degrees.  A cup of whole wheat flour, a cup of unbleached white flour, 1 ½ cups of cornmeal, a teaspoon of salt, 1 ½ teaspoons of baking powder, and ½ c. sugar got whisked together.  Added a couple of eggs, 1/3 c. oil (I used canola, but light olive oil would be good, too) and 2 ½ c. milk to make a batter.  Poured it into a greased—my favorite—10-inch iron skillet (if you have one, make sure it has a handle that can go into the oven); a 9x13 pan would work, too.  Baked for 30-35 minutes (or until the butter knife came out clean).  I sliced this lovely rustic cornbread into 16 parts, and I estimate it at around 210 calories for each extremely filling piece.

The bean soup came out sort of watery for my taste, but leftovers will be perfect; next time I’ll put only seven cups of liquid.  The combination was wonderful, though.  The little bits of ham were falling off of the bone, truly a warming winter meal.  I wonder what Grandma and Dad would have thought….

A Locavore...Classic Recipes Part 2

Lasagna

I am finally getting to appreciate my slow cooker.  It took me a while to get over having a heated appliance going in my house when I’m not there, but since my stepson moved in and comes and goes a lot, and I usually go home for lunch in the middle of my work day, I figure it’s fairly safe.  I use it on our island with the granite countertop, and the outlet one foot away with a CGI receptacle, and make sure there is nothing even remotely close to it.  Still, caution is advised, and the best possible use of a slow cooker is when you’re close by, but want to be doing something else, like cleaning, wrestling with the kids, reading a book, or giving yourself a manicure (without nail clippings in the food, please.  Eww).

So, my second “classic” recipe, now with added slow cooking bonus points, is lasagna.  I have to say, I was terrified that this would come out mushy or soupy, but I was pleasantly surprised by the effect, and now actually prefer the slow cooker lasagna.  The noodles soak up the moisture nicely, and there are no crunchy uncooked pasta bits on the edges (like there are with my oven lasagna).  There are several steps to lasagna, of course, so I did prep for this on a Sunday afternoon, and put everything together on Tuesday to enjoy Tuesday night.

First step:  sauce.  My gosh, there are a TON of recipes for marinara out there.  And then, there’s the already prepared sauce from the grocery.  I am always overwhelmed by the amount of choice, and figure it takes very little time and effort to make a decent sauce on my own.  My second hurdle is how much to make.  I’m always scared of not having enough, so I decided to make a lot, then always have some left over for a quick pizza or spaghetti, if necessary.  For the veggie version, I had exactly the right amount for my size slow cooker. 

If you feel the need for meat, start with browning it, add in the garlic afterwards, and leave out the oil.  We are in a meat-buying club, and our local Italian bulk sausage would have been fabulous in this recipe.  I was in the mood for vegetarian, though, so I started with a healthy splash of olive oil and about 5 cloves of minced garlic.  I am not averse to the jarred organic minced garlic to save time, but it does change the flavor.  After the olive oil has warmed up the garlic (not burnt it!), I add a can of tomato paste and brown it just a little bit.  I then blend in a can (15-oz.) of tomato sauce, and a small (15-oz.) and a large (28-oz.) can of diced tomatoes.  My standby brand is Muir Glen organic, but there are lots of choices out there.  If I had my own garden, I’m sure I would have loads of frozen romas to thaw, chop up and throw in.

Canned tomatoes can be quite acidic, of course, so the pinch (in this case, a pretty healthy pinch) of sugar is important.  Mine seemed a bit thick at this point, so I poured in about 1/3 cup of some Malbec that had been opened a couple of days before and needed to go.  Any dry red wine would do.  I also add about two tablespoons each of dried oregano and dried basil.  I add a quick sprinkle of cinnamon, which I found also combats the acidity.  Don’t worry, it won’t taste like apple pie!  I put a lid on it and let it simmer for about an hour.

I recently read about simmering.  I had always assumed that simmering involved little bubbles, and was basically boiling, albeit softly.  Actually, I found out that simmering is what your slow cooker does on low, and shouldn’t be bubbling.  It’s sort of the temperature where steam is coming out, and you can smell the thing, but you aren’t cooking out all of the flavor.  Simmering tomato sauce means that you shouldn’t have to shield your white blouse from the lid when you lift it up to check on the sauce.  Sure, the bubbles will “pop” a little bit, but it shouldn’t look like a tomato geyser.

So….while my marinara was simmering, I cleaned some lovely, giant spinach leaves from our local organic farm, Blue Moon, that I had bought at our co-op.  I don’t know how much, but it did fill my salad spinner.  I removed the large stems and chopped the spinach coarsely.  I used my sad-excuse-for-a-food-processor to blend a low-fat organic cottage cheese into a smooth ricotta substitute.  Organic low-fat cottage cheese is much easier to find than organic low-fat ricotta, and I frankly haven’t found much difference in taste after adding about 1 c. of shredded organic Italian blend cheeses to the mix.  Finally, before my food processor gave up the ghost entirely, I threw in the spinach and blended it so that I could see little bits of spinach in the white cheese.  I put the cottage cheese mixture and the cooled marinara into containers and into the fridge.  I totally forgot about the eggs that were supposed to go into the cheese mixture, but I’m not really sure what they’re for, anyway.  Maybe I’ll throw them in next time and see what the difference is.

On Tuesday, I assembled the lasagna over my lunch hour.  I divided the marinara into fourths, and the cottage cheese mixture in half.  I put one quarter of the chunky marinara on the bottom. The noodles were uncooked regular (not no-boil) organic ones, and I broke them up a bit to fit the shape of my oval 6-quart slow cooker.  Then I added half of the cottage cheese/spinach/cheese mixture and spread it carefully around with a wooden spatula.  One third of the remaining Italian blend cheese (about 1/3 of a cup), then another layer of marinara.  Noodles.  Cottage cheese.  Cheese.  Marinara.  Noodles.  Marinara.  Lid.  Hopefully you have a programmable slow cooker that you can set for five hours on low, then it will switch to warm.

I got home after work, put the final 1/3 c. shredded cheese on top, and placed the lid back on. I changed my clothes, tossed a salad, made a quick vinaigrette, and by that time, the cheese was melted.  Dinner was ready!  If you can divide an oval into eight parts, then by my calculation, one part will be about 340 calories.  Not bad for lasagna!

A Locavore Takes Over Classic Recipes—Part 1

Beef Stroganoff

Got about two pounds of stew beef from the Amish meat market.  Though not considered organic, and not always grass-fed, the Amish cows are hormone-free, and are fed grain that has not been treated with chemicals, and are allowed to pasture where possible.  When I unwrap it at home, the color tells me all I need to know about the nutritional content.  I also suspect that I’ll have two pounds of meat when I’m done cooking it, not a pound of meat and a pound of water like the product that comes from the grocery store.

Greg is one of my favorite vendors from the summer Farmer’s Market in Urbana.  He drives about two hours each way to bring us treasures from his farm and greenhouses, and he’s the only market vendor I know who grows oyster mushrooms.  They are sold by the pound, and are huge, beautiful, and flavorful.  After the market ends in December, Greg calls every other week to take my order over the phone, and delivers out of his van in an alley in Urbana.  It feels slightly like a drug deal, but I always come home with an interesting variety of frozen fruits and fresh vegetables for the coming week.  This past week I got a pound of the mushrooms and some onions that ensure a good cry when you chop them.

So….here’s the best slow cooker beef stroganoff I can offer:

Put 2 pounds of stew beef (thawed, if frozen) in the slow cooker.  Break the pieces apart and mix with a finely chopped onion (I used a very large strong-flavored onion, which made about a cup chopped; more can be used if needed).  Add ¼ cup of unbleached white flour, and coat the pieces.  Boil 2 ½ cups of vegetable stock, or use veggie bouillon.  Add 3 tablespoons of Worcestershire sauce (I’m a big fan).  Usually I would sauté some mushrooms before adding them, but these beautiful oyster mushrooms I just cut up small, and allow the flavor to ripen while cooking.  They also can be a bit tough when just sautéed, so simmering in the slow cooker allows them to get tender.  I add the veggie stock, Worcestershire, and mushrooms (about ¾ pound), stir it up, then sprinkle a healthy teaspoon of dried thyme over the top.  A recipe I got from a friend says 5 hours on high, but I know my slow cooker is a little lower on heat, so I’ll up that about a half an hour, keeping a close eye on the finished product.

Just before you’re ready to serve, stir in a cup of sour cream.  If you use noodles, remember to allow 40-50 minutes to cook the big, fat Amish kind.  My mom used to put beef stroganoff over rice instead, and I really like that too.  Brown rice marries well with the mushroom flavors, but also requires 40-50 minutes. If you’re slow cooking to save time, my recommendation is to make the rice or noodles the night before and reheat in the microwave before serving.  Don’t forget a green vegetable!  My faves for beef stroganoff are plain steamed broccoli or a simple green salad with winter greens and a shallot vinaigrette*.

*Shallot Vinaigrette

Maille mustard—two parts

Champagne or white wine vinegar—one part

Oil (sunflower, light olive, walnut, or other light-flavored oil)—three parts

Whip up the vinaigrette until it’s light and “fluffy”.  If it’s runny, add a bit more oil.  When it’s right, add salt and pepper to taste.  Finally, add one large or two small shallots, as finely minced as possible.  Store remainder in fridge, and take it out 30 minutes before serving.