Mulled Cider

 

It's the eve of December and there are only 21 days left until the winter solstice. Each day seems to get a little shorter and a little chillier. And a little busier. My days have been pretty full with school, both my own graduate classes and student teaching, and rehearsal after dress rehearsal (the holiday season is a busy one for musicians and choral singers). Tonight was a night for rest and restoration. I made A. and I a couple grilled cheeses with tomato soup for dinner. Simple and satisfying.

I also picked up a half gallon of apple cider at the grocery store with the intention of making a long-loved mulled cider recipe. Mulling refers to taking a cider or wine and infusing it over a long and slow cooking process with a variety of spices. Mulling takes something already delicious and makes it even better; it takes a simple glass of red wine or cider and turns it into warm, velvety, and spicy comfort. The smell and the taste of this cider is interwoven with so many memories like:

Countless family trips to the White Mountains of Arizona. We often made this cider in a slow-cooker and left it simmering all day while we were out downhill or cross-country skiing. We would come home satisfactorily tired with cheeks pink from the cold. A mug of cider, a baked treat, and a game of Balderdash is often how we ended an evening.

Warming up chilled bones after a day of treasure hunting in a 19th century landfill at Dead Horse Bay. A couple hours of finding trinkets and baubles, marbles and bottles, all while being buffeted with cold, salty sea air leaves a person cold and hungry. But sitting at a kitchen table with a hot mug of cider (that has a splash of whisky in it), seems to right almost any wrong.




Mulled Apple Cider

64 fl oz of apple cider, if you can find the fresh-pressed
and no-sugar-added kind, even better!

2 sticks of cinnamon

about 10-15 whole cloves

1 orange, sliced into 1/2 inch horizontal segments

Optional: other mulling spices like ground nutmeg,
star anise, and all spice






There are a couple options for mulling the cider, but the important thing is that this is a long and slow process. If you have a slow-cooker/crock pot, put all of your ingredients in on low to medium heat for at least 2 hours. If you're doing this on the stove-top, use a nice, heavy pot. If I'm mulling on the stove-top, I bring the cider up to a simmer (not a boil!) and then cover on the lowest setting for at least an hour.

In either method, you will combine the apple cider, cinnamon sticks, cloves, (other spices of your choice), and 2-3 orange segments. Mull your cider for about 1-3 hours. At a certain point, you want to take the cider off the heat; if it continues to mull it will start to get bitter. Strain the orange and the spices  and you can store the cool cider back in the original container you bought it in or in a pitcher/jar of you're feeling fancy. As a girl, my favorite thing was to take a mug of cider and a couple of my mom's ginger snaps. Now, I like to add a splash of whisky or burbon but I would never say no to those ginger snaps.

Now where is my Jose Feliciano, Feliz Navidad LP??

Garlic Ginger Cranberry Chutney

In the chronology of my Thanksgivings, there is a period of time that I will describe as BC or "before chutney". Try as I might to remember, cranberry sauce made absolutely no impression on me BC. I was way too focused on mashed potatoes and gravy or my aunt's parmesan and artichoke stuffing. Cranberry sauce as I knew it was just a sweet topping and not much else. I also went through a period of life where I was not cranberries' biggest fan. Too tart, a little too bitter. Maybe it's when I found out that cranberries are grown in bogs (my sister affectionately refers to them as "bog berries") that they suddenly began to fascinate me.

 Then one year, while I was still in high school, my mom made this particular recipe: Garlic ginger cranberry chutney. I can remember the specific Thanksgiving because I thought a cloud of mustard gas had been released in the family kitchen. Anyone who is familiar with Indian food knows that chutneys are often (not always) fruit-based, spicy as well as spiced, and a perfect complement to protein. What I did not know was that making this particular cranberry chutney called for my mom to simmer on the stove, for what seemed like an eternity, vinegar, raw garlic and ginger, and cayenne pepper. Hence my allusions to mustard gas. The entire house seemed to be filled with an eye-watering vapor.

But here's the thing: this sauce is absolutely amazing. The flavor of the fresh cranberries is perfectly complemented by the punch of ginger, savory garlic, and a bit of spice from the cayenne pepper. Sweet, savory, and complex.

I moved from Arizona 4 years ago, and since then my Thanksgivings have been spent with my East Coast family. I made the chutney on my own, for the first time, with some slightly frantic urging on my mom's part not to make it on actual Thanksgiving Day and scare off the family. I'm making it this year, as has become my contribution to the holiday tradition, and out of respect for A's olfactory senses I'll probably wait till he's away conducting rehearsal to fumigate the kitchen.

In all seriousness, the cooking process is a little intense but just crack a window or turn on the fan over the stove if you have one. You'll be fine. The final product is more than worth it. I often make a double batch because aside from the magic that it works on a slice of turkey, it goes amazingly well with a loaf of french bread and a melty wedge of brie.

*Fresh cranberry sauce is one of the easiest things to make, and so I've put instructions for fresh cranberry sauce in this recipe. If you use canned cranberry sauce, make sure that one pound of it goes into the recipe.


Garlic Ginger Cranberry Chutney

One 12 oz bag of fresh, whole cranberries (look over your bog berries to make sure none of them still have a little stem attached).

1 cup of water

1 cup of granulated (or raw if you prefer) sugar

1 inch long piece of fresh ginger

3 cloves of garlic, finely chopped

1/2 cup apple cider vinegar

1/8 tsp cayenne pepper

1/2 tsp salt

fresh ground black pepper

In a medium sauce pan, bring the water and sugar to a boil. Add in the cranberries and bring the liquid back to a boil. Reduce the heat and boil gently for 10 minutes (listening to the insistent little pops of bursting berries), stirring every once in a while. At the end of the 10 minutes, remove from the heat and set aside.

Peel your ginger and cut it into paper thin slices, or as thin as you can get them. Stack the slices together and then cut the slices into thin slivers. Combine the ginger, finely chopped garlic, vinegar, sugar, and cayenne in a small pot. Bring this to a boil and then simmer on a low to medium-low flame for about 15 minutes to reduce the amount of liquid. Ideally, you want to end up with about 4 tbs of liquid.

Once your liquid has reduced, add in your cranberry sauce. Give a few twists of the pepper grinder and stir in the salt. Bring back to a simmer and cook gently for 10 more minutes.

Butternut Squash and Cashew Creme Pasta with Shimeji Mushrooms

This recipe came to me in a different guise. It came to me by way of my sister and cousin (both amazing cooks in their own right) called butternut squash alfredo. I liked the recipe right away because in my mind, what's not awesome about butternut squash or these two fabulous ladies?

I was a vegetarian for 12 years of my life, starting in middle school. The initial impetus was absolutely born of a pre-adolescent desire to exert a bit of autonomy. But what came of this experience was a desire to know my food better, in every tiny detail. I became aware of where my food was coming from, and (although it seems so very common sense now) I realized first-hand how food of good and conscientious quality elevated the humble and magical experience of eating.

I met my wonderful man 5 years ago and have lived with him in NYC for almost as long. He and this city collaborated to make me a more adventurous eater than I ever have been (without losing the perspective I gained from the veggie years). My sister has made me aware of the ingenuity that goes into cooking both gluten and dairy free. I feel like I'm looking at food in a way I haven't really looked at it in a long while. It's a bit revolutionary...

I made this dish at the end of a long week. I went to the Eliniki Agora produce stand - my favorite one - to buy the components.  I made cashew creme for the first time and this might just become a new obsession. It is smooth and creamy but with a flavor unlike heavy cream; a flavor all its own.

Here are two things: 1) I get the allusion to pasta alfredo, but the final product is not a carbon copy of the original dish. AND 2) It is absolutely, fan-fricken-tastic, amazingly delicious. That's why I made the decision to call it as it is. It's not pasta alfredo and it doesn't need to be. It's its own beautiful thing. 100% vegan and 150% tasty.

When food is good, and I mean really good, there is no need to call it by another name. It will still smell so, so sweet.

Here are the stars: two pretty little butternuts, cashews, garlic and onions. I went on my own initiative and bought some shimeji mushrooms (bunapi-shimeji or white beech mushrooms. In the same family as enoki, another favorite) because I've had an overwhelming desire to put them in almost everything lately. I'll say right now, it was a good choice. Enoki and bunapi shumeji have a lot of umami (savory goodness) compounds but they manage to complement and not to overwhelm a dish in either flavor or texture.

 

A couple notes:
1) This dish does require a bit of forethought, because you need to plan to soak the cashews for at least two hours. The longer the better.
2) The proportions I worked off of, and have put here, make more than enough sauce for the 1/2 pounds of dry pasta. But it's delicious, so extra sauce is a bonus.

 

 

Butternut Squash and Cashew Creme Pasta with Shimeji Mushrooms

 

 

1/2 lb. of dry pasta, your favorite variety

 

1/2 cup of raw and unsalted (this is important!) cashews, soaked for at least two hours.

 

1.5 cups of vegetable broth

 

1.5 cups of roasted butternut squash (I bought the two little guys you see in the picture. Maybe about a pound each. They were more than enough for the recipe)

 

2 tbs "mellow white miso" (yes, I was able to find it by this name at my local organic foods store)

 

1.5 tbs nutritional yeast (optional but recommended. Nutritional yeast, or "Nooch" as my vegan and dairy-free friends call it, definitely has a "cheesy" flavor for lack of a better term)

 

1 tbs fresh lemon juice

 

2 tbs olive oil

 

1 medium yellow onion, in a large, chunky dice

 

1 (150g) container of white beech mushrooms/bunapi shimeji. Simply cut where they are conjoined at the bottom, otherwise leave intact.

 

[If you can't find bunapi or enoki mushrooms, feel free to substitute another kind of mushroom or even leave them out entirely. Like I said, I just really love the texture and flavor of the shimeji mushrooms.]

 

3 cloves of garlic, minced (or crushed in a garlic press)

 

1 tsp dry rubbed sage

 

3/4 cup of a dry, white wine

 

salt and fresh ground black pepper, to taste.

 

 

 

Again, start preparing the cashews as soon as you have a chance. The longer they soak, the better. Make sure that they are raw and unsalted. When you get home, give them a quick rinse  before putting them in a bowl with water. The original recipe I followed said to soak for a minimum of 2 hours and optimally overnight. I ended up doing 4 hours and with a good stick blender, it worked just fine. Since your cashews will be soaking for a while you can time the rest of the prep as works for you.

 

 

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F. Cut your butternut squash into quarters (yes, they will be a bit uneven because of the shape). Scoop out all of the seeds and strings. Place them cut side down on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper that has been lightly greased with olive oil or another cooking spray. Roast for 45 minutes. Take out of the oven and once they are cool enough to handle, scoop out the flesh. Save a little squash if you want to garnish your final product with a few pieces.

 

When your cashews are sufficiently soggy, drain them and put them in a large bowl (if you're using a stick blender) or in a food processor with the vegetable broth. Blend thoroughly until you have an almost entirely smooth mixture. Add the butternut squash, miso, nutritional yeast, and lemon juice. Blend well, until very creamy.

 

Around this time, bring a large pot of salted water to a rapid boil and cook your pasta till al dente. Drain and return back to the pot.

 

[Non-procedural note: I think that there are times where it's appropriate to drizzle a little olive oil to keep the pasta from sticking together. However, Lidia Bastianich (one of my food heroes) advises against this, saying olive oil can keep your sauce from really adhering to or coating the pasta. I was inclined to believe here, and although my drained pasta got a little sticky, once I added the sauce, everything was golden. Or was that just the butternut.....?]

 

Meanwhile, put the olive oil in a large, heavy-bottomed sauce pan over medium heat. Sweat the onions with a pinch of salt for about 5 minutes until translucent. Add the mushrooms and cook for 2 minutes before adding the minced garlic and cook for 30 more seconds. Bring the heat up to medium-high and then mix in the sage, pepper, and white wine and bring to a boil for a 2-3 more minutes.

 

Turn the heat back down to medium-low and add in the butternut and cashew creme. Stir until everything is well incorporated and continue to cook for about 5 more minutes, stirring occasionally. Taste for salt and pepper.

 

Like I said, this recipe makes a lot of sauce. Rather than pour it all over the pasta at once, I used a ladle to add in about half of the sauce and then gave everything a stir to coat the pasta. Then, I added a bit more sauce till I was happy with the ratio. There was still some left over, so add as little or as much as suits you.

 

 

To plate, I served in a couple deep bowls and I garnished with some chunks of roasted squash as the original recipe indicated. Honestly, I was a little lukewarm about this last step. The sauce is so deliciously savory and complex, while the squash on its own is simple and sweet. I felt it clashed a bit. And here's a true confession for you (Vegan friends; stop reading here!): some crispy bacon or pancetta pieces would be heavenly as a garnish. Just sayin'.

 

I can only recommend now that you curl up on the couch (fake woodstove optional), drink some more of that white wine,  put something good on the telly, and dig in to your bowl of savory, complex, creamy, butternut goodness. Buen provecho!

 

 

 



Three Mushroom Shepherd's Pie with Cauliflower Puree

It all started with cauliflower and a dinner party.

 Many times, my inspiration for a meal comes from a single ingredient or a single event. Say I just completed a hot yoga or hot pilates class, then I probably want to eat about 20 mangoes. If I'm under the weather or it's a cold day, then I crave a big bowl of kimchi chigae - a spicy stew of pork and kimchi goodness.

This dish came about when we invited a couple really good friends to our place one weekend. One of them is a vegetarian and so I was combing my Pinterest boards for some options. My working option was a cauliflower soup with mustard and gruyere croutons (still need to make that sometime…), that is, it was until we went to the Queen’s Kickshaw for brunch. The Queen’s Kickshaw is one of the most amazing restaurants in our neighborhood FULL of amazing restaurants. They always have the most flavorful and inventive food, along with really good coffee, beer, and cider. What more could one ask for?

One of the things we ordered was the mushroom shepherd’s pie topped with (can you guess?) cauliflower in place of the mashed potatoes. After a few bites, A and I looked at each other and decided we could absolutely make this.

Here's the aforementioned huge head of cauliflower

Prepping for this dish made me very happy because we were able to buy almost everything at our favorite local produce stand. Fall is upon us and our stand has these massive heads of cauliflower from Long Island. I also love buying produce from the stand because it’s all of such good quality and I can buy exactly the amount I need and avoid wasting food later. We went for a lot of earthy veggies like carrot, fennel, and parsley root. I’ve often used parsnips in place of parsley root since I find them to be similar enough, depending on what I find at the store/stand. For the mushrooms, we couldn’t pick just one kind so we went with three. We bought a container of creminis, a container of oyster mushrooms, and a 0.10lb pack of dried porcini mushrooms.

 

Depending on allergies or eating preferences, this dish can easily be made vegetarian or vegan by subbing non-dairy alternatives in the cauliflower puree. For people with gluten allergies, the 2tbs of flour used to thicken the filling could be substituted with non-gluten thickeners like arrowroot or an organic corn starch. (I've not experimented with these yet, so any input from my GF friends would be greatly appreciated!) Anyway you do it, this dish is delicious and everything you want in a warm, rich, earthy bowl of comfort food.

Pairs best with a nice red wine and really good friends.

 

Cauliflower Puree

2 medium heads of cauliflower

3-4 tbs of butter or Earth Balance

salt and pepper to taste

About ¼ cup of milk, (cow or your preferred substitute. Rice milk is my favorite)

Optional: 2 tsp of thyme, leaves only, no stems

 

If you don’t have a partner in crime in the kitchen, you could make the cauliflower before making the filling. Simply keep it warm on the stove (no heat) with the lid on. If you happen to have someone you like cooking with, by all means, divvy up these responsibilities.

Bring a large pot of salted water to a rapid boil. Cut your cauliflower into large chunks. You don’t have to be super precise with this since all of these chunks are going into the pot. Boil the cauliflower for 10-15 minutes till soft and easily pierced with a fork.

Drain the cauliflower and put your butter or Earth Balance into the still-warm pot so that it melts. Put the cauliflower back in the pot and start breaking it down. I did this in two steps. I started with a hand-held mixer to break it down most of the way. At this point, I added in the milk and kept going with a stick blender. You might want to add a bit more butter or a splash more milk if your puree is looking too dry. The stick blender is really perfect for getting a lighter and creamy texture, and I probably blended it for a good 5 minutes. Add salt and pepper to taste.

We had a bunch of fresh thyme and its flavor goes really well with all the other components of the dish. Stir in the leaves into the puree, cover with the lid, and keep warm until your filling is done.

 

Mushroom Filling:

One large carrot, peeled

one large parsley root or parsnip (either is fine), peeled

one fennel bulb

two medium shallots, minced

small container of cremini mushrooms (the square size, not the rectangle size)

small container of oyster mushrooms

about half of a 0.10 pack of dried porcini mushrooms, we rehydrated about 20 porcinis total

2 tbs olive oil

2 tbs flour

½ cup red wine

1 cup broth (ideally the reserved liquid from soaking the porcinis!)

2 bay leaves

salt and pepper

*Green bean option, see end of post.

 

Preheat the oven to 375 while you get your mise en place set. I’m all about the mise en place. This French expression just refers to doing all of your peeling, dicing, slicing before any of the big steps. It definitely makes life easier. A and I keep a lot of small bowls and ramekins around just for this purpose.

Take about half of your porcini mushrooms. In my case it was probably about 20-30 porcinis. In a medium bowl, cover with about 2 cups of very hot (not boiling) water. Let these sit for about 20 minutes as you continue to prep. After the 20 minutes, take the porcinis out of the water which is now very dark in color and full of the absolutely delicious essence of the mushrooms. Carefully take the top cup of broth out and set aside; I’ve found when soaking porcinis that a bit of grit settles at the bottom of the bowl.

If the cremini and oyster mushrooms are very dirty just give them a gentle wipe with a damp paper towel. Mushrooms are so connected to the earth, both by flavor and origin, that a little dirt won’t hurt anyone (says I, who as a very little girl was known to try a taste of dirt every now and then).  Cut these all in a small dice.

Take the carrot and parsley root, and cut them in half inch slices. Discard the leafy green parts of the fennel before cutting the white bulb in half. If you look at the fennel cross section, you’ll see a triangular core at the center of the bulb. Cut this out, since it’s tough and not really all that tasty. Then cut the fennel into large quarter inch chunks.  Line a baking tray with foil (for easier clean-up) and arrange the carrot, parsley root, and fennel in a single layer. Drizzle with olive oil, salt, and pepper and work it all with your hands to get everything seasoned. Put these in the oven for about 30-40 minutes or until they are al dente and just beginning to brown. Once these vegetables have been roasted, take them out of the oven and let cool until you can comfortably handle them. Cut these into a small dice.

In a large, heavy bottomed pot heat the 2 tbs of olive oil over medium heat. Add the shallots and sweat for a couple minutes until they start to become translucent. Sweating is like sauteing but done at a medium-low heat versus a high heat. Add the mushrooms and cook for about 5 minutes. At this point you can raise the heat to medium high since the mushrooms will release moisture. Add the roasted carrot, parsley root, and fennel and sprinkle the 2 tbs of flour over everything. Stir to coat and keep stirring for 1-2 minutes. Add in the broth and the red wine and whisk or stir rapidly as the liquid comes to a simmer and begins to thicken. If the filling is looking too thin or watery, thicken with a bit of a quick roux; make a smooth paste of flour and water or stock and stir into the filling. If the filling is too thick, add in a bit more broth or wine. Put in the bay leaves and salt and pepper to taste. Cook on the stove top for about 10 more minutes.

At this point, set the oven to 350 degrees. Take a large casserole dish (I used our rectangular 9” x 13” pyrex) and grease lightly with olive oil. The first layer you put in will be the mushroom filling. Spread it out with a spoon or spatula. Then add a second layer of the cauliflower puree. Add as much or as little as you’d like. We went for a 50/50 mushroom filling/cauliflower ratio cause it was all just way too delicious. Put this in the oven and cook for about 20-30 minutes.

Makes 6 very generous servings (about 1-2 cup servings)

*Green bean option:
I also bought a small amount of green beans (no more than half a pound), blanched** them, cut them into inch long pieces, and added them to the filling.  They were a different textural component in what is otherwise usually a pretty homogenous dish. They were also a really nice addition for their flavor and I recommend the extra effort and few extra dirty dishes and implements.

**blanching the beans does not refer to an episode of Golden Girls. After snapping off either end of the beans, cook in rapidly boiling water for no more than 4 minutes. Take the beans out with a slotted spoon and put them in an ice bath to stop the cooking. They will be cooked perfectly al dente but still retain their gorgeous shock of green color.

 

 

Where it all begins...

Our fondest memories, our earliest memories. Where do they come from? Many of my memories are so interwoven with food that something as simple as the smell of slightly burnt toast on a cloudy day instantly takes me back to the years I lived in Chile as a girl. Think of it this way: whenever there is a gathering of friends and family, where do people congregate? The kitchen. People forgo the comfortable expanse of couch and armchair to gather in the kitchen, the heart of the home, to watch the alchemy of raw ingredients become something more than their basest selves.

My mom is the one who first introduced me to the kitchen. When I was very young, I would be responsible for stirring the ingredients in a bowl, then it was a responsibility for the preparation of a certain dish.  But that's where it came from, a sense of responsibility for the ritual and experience of eating. We've been travelers as long as I can remember and we have often repayed a friend's hospitality with a meal, a labor of love.

I believe food should not be a proprietary thing. To eat a dish prepared by another person's hands is to know them better. Food is meant to be shared and to be transmitted. What makes a dish one's own comes in the process and the individual's own touch.That's why my frijoles will never be the same as my Natya's. But the more that I make them, the more I will create something that becomes my own.

I've been asked many times for recipes that I make and that's where this blog comes in; a place for me to talk about food that I've eaten, recipes that I've made, the people I share them with.

A big part of life is food and the pleasure it brings, but there is more I love about life than just food so every now and then I might feel compelled to share those experiences here too. I can't promise to post frequently or even regularly, but I do always promise to post with enthusiasm.

So as Lidia Bastianich (one of my food heroes) says: Tutti a tavola a mangiare.
In the words of "Saint" Julia: Bon appétit.
In the words of my mom (and biggest food hero): Buen provecho.

 

Indeed.