St. Louis Eats and Drinks With Joe and Ann Pollack

Black Cake

 

Several years ago, re-reading Laurie Colwin's "Home Cooking," I was taken with her description of black cake. It's a Caribbean dessert, traditionally used at times of festivities, a higher form of fruitcake steeped in rum and other ethanol-type liquids. So I tried it. The idea was good, but her relatively vague recipe, which she admitted she hadn't actually made, just obtained from her daughter's baby sitter, just didn't hold together, literally, for me. (Other people, apparently, have done better with it.) But the idea still held promise. I am not one of those people whose idea of a Christmas cake is glaceed cherries and citron. No, indeedy. I have two fruitcake recipes, one dark and the other light, Ava Gardner and Grace Kelly, as it were, and both are tasty, so it wasn't as though I actually needed another one, but it nagged at me. Two years ago, I read Nigella Lawson's discussion of Colwin's cake and her take on the recipe. And last year I came across another recipe, and succumbed to it. I did a little tinkering, using what I had on hand and what I could easily find. And I was blown away when I finally tasted it. Moist and dark and mysterious, fruit and spice and booze. I cannot imagine a kid liking it, as laced with liquor as it is, but it is so worth the effort. (And the cost; this is not an inexpensive project.)

So it's November. I've chopped up the fruit and set it to marinating. It should sit for at least a week. Nigella says one year she began the marinating a month early, and when the time came to bake, she was so tired, she didn't make the cake. It sat 13 months in the liquid and she used it the next year, and it was fine. I don't think it's fair to drop a recipe like this on, say, December 15. So start now.

I've done some subbing from that recipe. The orange peel was awful-smelling and I pitched it, substituting some candied dried pineapple I had on hand. And glad I did, too; the occasional hit of pineapple is fun. I didn't have enough rum so I finished off the amount with some Madeira I had on hand. If you need to substitute in the fruit, nuts, or liquor, just figure on an equal volume. As to chopping: Measure first, then chop. (You know you can always tell by how it's listed - “1 cup nuts, finely chopped” means measure, then chop: “1 cup chopped nuts” means chop before measuring, right?) I use the processor for chopping the almonds, but I'm not crazy about that; it's easy to end up with half ground to flour and another half ranging from too-large-to-barely-nicked. For the rest, I just put on some cooking music and get cracking with a chef's knife and my cutting board, cutting them medium-coarse to just plain medium. I like much of the fruit to just sort of meld into the cake.

The ingredient that puzzles most people is the burnt sugar. There are ways to make it yourself if you look on the internet, but it's easier to buy it. I found it at Global Foods on Kirkwood Road, where it's with the Caribbean foods, a dark brown liquid in a bottle. I also buy many of the fruits there, finding them less expensive and properly fresh.

PANS: I use two loaf pans that measure 8 ½ by 4 ½ inches at the bottom, and 3 inches high. Following Nigella's advice and drawing on my own experiences, I lined each pan with two pieces of paper. I was out of parchment, so I used clean, unprinted grocery bags, cut the strips roughly to size, one to go longways in the pan the other sideways. I made sure I had some overlap at the corners, which was fine. Fortunately, the paper went above the sides of the pan. That turned out to be a good thing, as the batter also rose above the sides. The cakes also are often made in round cake pans; this volume of batter could go into a 9- or 10-inch round pan that's 2 inches tall, and would bake for less time. But I'd still line the pans on the sides and bottom, especially if I were using a springform pan.

UPDATE: So this year, I just made the cake again (it's now the end of November) and there was, somehow, way too much batter for those two pans. So I filled the two I had, popped them in the oven, and got a third, smaller loaf pan that is 6 1/2 inches by 2 3/4 inches. I whacked out a brown paper liner for it and put the rest of the batter in it. (It fit perfectly.) It took an hour and 45 minutes to test done; the other two ran about 2 hours 15 minutes.

I greased the pans in case there was any leakage and then the papers, using Pam spray.

FOR THE FRUIT: 

1 3/4 C. almonds, chopped

1 3/4 c. dried cherries, chopped

1 3/4 c. pitted prunes, chopped

1 3/4 c. raisins, chopped

3/4 c. dried pineapple, chopped

1 c. currants, chopped a little (they're small)

3/4 c. dried cranberries, chopped

1 1/2 c. Port

1/2 c. Madeira (may substitute more port)

1 c. dark rum

Combine nuts, fruit, and liquids in a container that holds at least 3 quarts and has a sealable lid. Cover and store in a cool dark place for at least a week.

FOR THE CAKE:

3 cups all-purpose flour

1 1/2 tsp. salt

1 Tbs. baking powder

1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon

1/2 tsp. ground cloves

1/2 tsp. ground nutmeg

4 sticks (1 lb.) butter, room temperature

2 1/4 c. packed light brown sugar

6 large eggs, room temperature

2 tsp. vanilla extract

3/4 c. burnt sugar

Place an oven in the middle of the oven. Preheat to 300 degrees Fahrenheit.

Cut lining papers for cake pans, allowing for an overlap at the corners and extending an inch or so above the tops. Grease the pans, insert the lining papers, creasing them so they fit in, and grease the papers.

In a large bowl (that isn't the bowl you're going to mix the cake itself in) whisk together the flour, salt, baking powder and spices. In the bowl of the mixer, place the butter and sugar, and beat on medium speed until the mixture is light and fluffy. Scrape down the sides as necessary, and when the mixture is fluffy, scrape down the sides completely, stopping the machine. Return to medium speed and add the eggs, one at a time, beating each one in completely before adding the next. Add the vanilla and drop the speed to low.

Add the flour, the fruit-nut mixture and any remaining liquid and the burnt sugar, and mix just until combined. (I ended up using a large spatula to get everything nicely moistened rather than beating it to death in the ol' KitchenAid.)

Divide between the prepared pans, bang each pan on the counter a couple of times to settle the batter in, and place in oven.

Bake for about 2 hours, until a cake tester comes out clean from the middle. The cake will be very moist.

Allow to cool in the pans for 30 minutes or so, and then remove from the pans and finish cooling on the rack.

When cool, gently peel paper off cake. Brush cake with a little more rum and place in an airtight plastic bag. Can be eaten soon, or left to age up to 2 months.

Makes 2 cakes, each giving about 10-12 slices. (Or more: see added notes above.)

Not a handsome cake, although I can see setting it ablaze a la Christmas pudding and bearing it in to the assemblage with a sprig of holly atop it.

-Ann

Lettuce Wraps With Chicken

Uh-huh. You bought all that stuff for an exotic Asian dish, which was okay, but what on earth are you going to do with the rest of the bottle of oyster sauce, the dried mushrooms and the rice wine? Do I have a solution for you? Indeed I do.

I found this recipe in Saveur magazine and thought it would appeal to the emerging palate of our Apprentice Eater. Saveur, it turns out, got it from a great blog called rasamalasia.com and did a little adapting. I did a little more adapting, and this is the result. It’s light, and quick to cook once the prep is done. It’s definitely finger food–in fact, small lettuce leaves could be used to make an hors d’oeuvre. And I don’t think a quick re-heat would do major damage to the meat mixture, so it’s not impossible to cook in advance.

The Saveur version called for 20 cashew nuts. I subbed walnuts, because it’s what I had on hand, but the point of the whole thing is crunch, so it was no surprise to see that the blog used water chestnuts. Both versions called for iceberg lettuce, but thinking about rolling the filling in the lettuce, I had visions of iceberg being more like a crisp taco shell, prone to crack. I had leaf and Boston lettuce on hand, and they worked perfectly. The dried mushrooms give a great flavor, and they keep forever. They’re a staple around here. And the soaking liquid makes a great addition to risotto or soups; I have a resealable plastic bag in the freezer marked "mushroom broth" with just that.

The contrast of the cool lettuce and the warm filling is great. You can have some chili sauce on hand for those who like it a little spicier, but I think this is fine the way it is.

LETTUCE WRAPS WITH CHICKEN

1 lb. ground chicken

12 English walnuts, coarsely chopped

4 dried shiitake mushrooms, softened in hot water, stemmed and finely chopped

2 green onions, finely chopped

4 tsp. soy sauce

1 Tbs. oyster sauce

1 Tbs. rice wine (or dry sherry)

1 tsp. cornstarch

1/2 tsp. sugar

freshly-ground pepper to taste

2 Tbs. cooking oil

3 cloves garlic, finely chopped

16-20 lettuce leaves, to wrap filling

cilantro sprigs or leaves (optional)

Put chicken, nuts, mushrooms and green onions in a bowl. In another bowl, stir together the soy and oyster sauces, wine, cornstarch, sugar and pepper. Pour over chicken and mix well. (Mixture will be very sticky.) Cover and refrigerate for 15 minutes.

Heat a large skillet over high heat. Add the oil, and when oil is hot, add the garlic. Cook for 10-15 seconds and add the chicken. Cook, stirring and breaking up clumps, until all the pink is gone.

Place lettuce leaves on a platter and the chicken mixture in a bowl. Garnish with cilantro. Spoon some the chicken onto a leaf, roll up and eat. The Apprentice Eater had seconds.

Serves 4.

-Ann

Peaches in Red Wine

It seems sort of shocking to think that this part of the country has a lot in common with Provence, in the south of France. But actually, if you’re looking at what to do with all the great stuff from the farmers markets, check the cookbooks that focus on Provencal cooking to find your answers. All the tomatoes, eggplant, Swiss chard, squashes and so on can be brought to glorious ends in that tradition. So this is the time of year that I find myself leafing through my several Provencal cookbooks. And when I offered to bring dessert to a Fourth of July dinner and I needed something with no sugar, I found my answer in The Provence Cookbook by Patricia Wells.

These are fresh peaches, gently poached in spiced red wine. I used Splenda, which dissolved easily, instead of sugar, and adjusted the recipe slightly to account for what I had on hand (and my own taste; she adds one star anise, which I preferred to omit). Wells calls for four white peaches, but I used eight cling peaches, whose pits I managed to remove without too much trouble. For wine I used two partly consumed bottles of Cabernet Sauvignon from the previous evening’s tasting.

 

I cannot say this improves on the taste of fresh peaches. That’s almost impossible, of course, but it’s not feasible to offer them up on a buffet without some sort of adjustment to avoid the flesh browning. The aroma from this is wonderful, sort of a vanilla-spice. She says it can be served warm as well as cold; I refrigerated it overnight

PEACHES IN RED WINE

8 peaches

Grated zest of 1 orange

2 whole cloves

1 cinnamon stick

10 black peppercorns

1 whole vanilla bean

1/ 2 cup sugar (or equivalent of sweetener of your choice)

1 750-ml. bottle red wine

Prepare a large bowl of ice water and set aside. Put enough water to cover peaches (I did them four at a time) in a saucepan and bring it to a boil. While the water is heating, cut a shallow X in the bottom of each peach. In a deep pot, put the remaining ingredients and begin heating them over low heat.

When the water boils, add the peaches, doing them in batches if necessary, and heat them for about 2 minutes. Lift them out and plunge them into the ice water. When they’re cool enough to handle, slide the skin off each peach and cut it into halves or quarters. Discard the peach pits.

Place the peaches in the wine, and allow them to cook over low heat until they’re soft. The time will vary with the ripeness of the peaches; use a sharp knife or a toothpick to check.

Remove the peaches and set aside. Raise the heat over the wine and cook it down until it’s reduced by half. (Wells says this will take 10 minutes, but at my house, things never reduce as quickly as the cookbooks say, no matter what I do.) Use a fine mesh sieve and strain the wine over the peaches. Serve immediately or chill to taste.

Serves 8 or so.

Steak (or Other) Salad

A new summer entree has popped up at our house. It’s from an old recipe, dating back probably to the Reagan administration, from a magazine I can no longer identify, it did me well in my single years as a late-night supper when friends gathered to decompress after a long evening at the hospital. Now it’s bringing grins of approval from the Apprentice Eater, a dedicated carnivore we’re housing this summer.

Oh, I suppose you could do this Thai-style salad in the winter, with those ersatz tomatoes available then, but like most things it does best with the lovely results of warm weather. It’s a very flexible recipe—I’ve called for beef here, but the photo is from a try with boneless, skinless chicken, and there’s no reason why shrimp wouldn’t work, although I’d leave them in the marinade considerably less time.

You can be fairly casual about the amount and what sort of greens you use. I like a mixture of crisp and tender ones, like romaine and Boston lettuces. I buy flank steak or a similar cut, something fairly lean that will become more tender when cut across its grain. And it’s fine to use the pre-chopped ginger you can buy at Indian groceries or places like Global Foods. The jalapeno pepper may have the seeds and fibers removed to make it less fiery, giving just a light kick to the dressing. The next time we have it, we’re going to add some cucumber slices for garnish.

Thai-Style Beef Salad

3 small heads or 2 large ones of different lettuces of your choice

3/4 c. of peanut oil, divided

4 Tbs. fresh lime juice, divided

3 Tbs. soy sauce, divided

1 lb. fairly lean beef, about 1 inch thick

1 Tbs. minced fresh ginger

2 medium garlic cloves, chopped

1 jalapeno pepper, coarsely chopped

1/4 c. minced fresh cilantro

1 or 2 tomatoes, cut in wedges

1 small red onion, cut in rings,.

Wash the lettuces and break them into bite-sized pieces. Dry them and refrigerate until needed.

Combine 2 tablespoons of the peanut oil, 2 tablespoons of the lime juice and 1 tablespoon of the soy sauce in a sealable plastic bag. Trim any extra fat from the beef, put it into the bag with the marinade, press out any excess air, and set aside at room temperature for an hour. (If you’re using chicken, refrigerate it.)

In a food processor or blender, combine 1 /2 cup peanut oil, the remaining 2 tablespoons of lime juice and of soy sauce, the ginger, garlic and jalapeno. Blend until smooth. Set aside.

Heat a heavy skillet over high heat. Add the remaining 2 tablespoons of oil to the pan, and heat it until it smokes a little. Remove the steak from the marinade, shaking off any excess, and add the meat to the skillet. Sear it for about 3 minutes on each side. Allow it to cook for another 10 minutes or so, turning once or twice, to make it medium rare. Add the reserved marinade to the dressing in the processor. (If you’re cooking chicken, cook it longer, and do not add its marinade to the dressing.) When the meat is cooked, set it aside on a cutting board, and remove the skillet from the heat.

Put the greens into a large bowl. Add the minced cilantro, the tomato wedges and the onion rings. Pour the dressing into the still-warm skillet, using a spatula to scrape up the browned bits from the bottom of the pan. Put a lid on to keep the dressing warm.

With a sharp knife, cut the beef across the grain into very thin slices. Add any juices from the meat to the dressing, and toss the salad very well. Serve with the slices of meat laid across the top.

Serves 4.

-Ann

Chocolate Embarrassing Cake

At this time of the year, it always seems like parties come up, and the search begins for something to bring. Sometimes you want to show off, and other times, it’s too much trouble or takes too much time. Yes, there certainly are nice things you can buy locally, but when you really want to make something good, but not deeply involved, here’s the answer.

Deeply, dangerously chocolate, this cake is so good it was served it at my son’s wedding, the bride being a chocoholic and the cake being one of his favorites. It is not, however, complicated. In fact, it’s embarrassingly easy—thus the name. I make it in a tube pan, the sort of pan used for angel food cake, and mine is the kind with two pieces, so the cake can be lifted out from the sides. But a bundt pan or even a 9" x 13" pan (which will bake for less time) will work.

1 box chocolate or devilsfood cake mix, 2-layer size, that does not say "pudding in the mix"

1 4-serving box of instant chocolate pudding

1 12-oz. bag chocolate chips (I like mini-chips)

1 16-oz container sour cream

2 eggs

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour the cake pan quite well, especially if you’re dealing with a tube pan that isn’t the 2-piece kind.

Dump everything in a bowl and mix until combined. The batter will be very thick. Put it into the pan, spreading the batter out. Bang it on the counter a few times to settle it in and help eliminate large air pockets. Smooth the top down a little and put it in the oven.

Bake 50-55 minutes. The top will spring back when touched lightly. Don’t bother with a cake tester; the chips make it too gooey to ever come out clean. Cool in the pan 10 or 15 minutes. Run a knife around the edges (and bottom, if it’s a 2-piece pan) before removing from the pan.

Plain looking (and hard to photograph...), but yummy. If you want to do something a little more elaborate, you can fill the middle with fresh berries and/or dust it with confectioner’s sugar. Freezes well, and can be made a day or even two before serving.

-Ann

Hummus For A Party

Apparently I am not quite the last person in the world to acquire a slow cooker, or Crock-Pot, as most of us habitually refer to them. And I probably don’t use it as often as I might. But I hauled it out the other day when I wanted to make hummus. I had plenty of time, and I knew that the slow cookers were good for cooking dried legumes.

This hummus recipe is my usual one, adapted slightly from Horn Of The Moon Cookbook, now out of print, which came from a Vermont vegetarian restaurant of the generation of the still-mourned Sunshine Inn. It is in no way authentic, but it’s miles beyond the bland goo that used to be the standard. I made gallons of it for my son and daughter-in-law’s wedding when Jane’s folks and I fed a couple of hundred people at their farm. It freezes perfectly, and since this recipe makes about a quart and a half, you may want to do that, too. When I did that, I bought my chickpeas in bulk at what is now Jay Foods on South Grand, as well as garlic and large jars of tahini, which are less expensive than at mainstream supermarkets. (They also are available at Jay’s sibling, Global Foods in Kirkwood, which does not have bulk bins.)

Tahini is like natural peanut butter; it separates on standing. The night before you plan to use it, turn the jar upside down to make your life easier. (It’ll begin to re-amalgamate the layers.) You may still need to stir it before using; by now, it’s automatic for me. Some tahinis are thicker than others, and that will affect how much body the hummus will have. Thick hummus can be used for sandwiches, but I usually make it a little thinner for dips. To me, hummus calls for vegetable dippers, but there’s much to be said for warm toasted pita wedges.

The recipe below gives the standard directions for stovetop cooking of the dried chickpeas, also labeled garbanzos. What I did with the Crock-Pot was to toss the chickpeas into a stovetop pan and add hot water to cover them by about three inches. I brought that to a boil and put the whole thing into the Crock-Pot on low heat. They cooked for about nine hours. When I checked them, I was blown away. They had a depth of flavor I’d never found before. It was great, and unless there’s a time problem, I’ll never cook them any other way.

You can be casual about the exact quantities of onion and spices; this is a play-it-by-mouth sort of thing. I usually up the pepper, sometimes quite vigorously, and the salt as well.

1 lb. dried chickpeas or garbanzos

water

1-2 Tbs. olive oil, plus more for optional garnish

1½ c. finely chopped onion (2-3 onions)

5 large cloves of garlic, minced

1 medium carrot, finely chopped

1/2 c. lemon juice (optional: grate some peel before juicing lemons)

1 c. tahini

2 Tbs. soy sauce

1 tsp. ground cumin

1/4 tsp. cayenne

1/2 tsp salt

za’atar or paprika for optional garnish

Put the chickpeas to soak in cold water to cover by 3-4 inches, and let them soak overnight. Alternatively, bring to a boil, let boil for 2 minutes, turn off heat, cover, let stand for 2 hours, and then begin cooking. Bring to a boil, drop heat to a simmer, cover, and let cook until tender. Check water levels to make sure water covers chickpeas all the time. Total cooking varies from 2 to 4 hours. (Don’t be fooled; I came across a recipe on the internet that called for 40 minutes. Nope.) Yes, you can cook the chickpeas in advance. Drain the chickpeas, but do not discard the liquid.

Heat a medium-to-large skillet. Add the olive oil, let it warm for a minute or two and add the onions, garlic and carrot. Saute over medium-low heat until vegetables are soft and many of them are browned. The pan will need to be scraped increasingly often as they cook; that’s okay.

While the onions and things are cooking, get out your largest bowl. Using a food processor, whiz the chickpeas. I like them very smooth, and that means you probably need to use some of the cooking liquid (or water) to thin the mixture. Scrape down the sides of the processor as needed. You’ll probably have to do this in two or three batches. Add the mashed chickpeas to the large bowl. (The cookbook adds that you can do this with a bean masher, which looks very much like a potato masher.)

If you like lemon, you may want to grate the peel of the 2 lemons (washed with soap and water, please, and dried) before you juice them. Add the lemon juice, tahini, soy sauce, cumin, cayenne and salt, and when they’re cooked enough, the vegetables. Using a large flexible spatula so you can scrape the walls of the bowl, mix it all together, and keep mixing. Because of the density, it’s a little more difficult to get the seasonings well-dispersed than in some things.

Taste. More salt? More cayenne? (I used to use about 4 flakes of dried habanero that had been soaked briefly in the lemon juice, and it was quite, quite hot.) Maybe a little more cumin. How about the thickness of the mixture? More cooking liquid? As you stir in the adjusted seasonings, continue scraping the side of the bowl. (Ask me how I learned this.)

If you’re going to be serving this at a party, I put it on a platter (a bright color is a great idea for this pale tan hummus), do some parallel curved swirls on the top surface, sort of ((((, drizzle olive oil over it, and sprinkle paprika or za’atar, the dark red Middle Eastern seasoning that’s sumac and thyme and sesame seeds. Some foks like to save out a few whole chickpeas and sprinkle them on top as a little clue to what it is.

Makes 1 1/2 quarts.

-Ann

Mediterranean Mussel Soup

I am an absolute sucker for fish soup of almost any sort. In Norway, it’s ubiquitous on menus year-round, each version different, depending on how bestemor, or Grandma, made it, but each delicious. Traveling up and down the North Sea coast, I’ve sampled many, all good. Over the years, variations on the bouillabaisse theme gradually made me realize that I could tolerate, and then enjoy, saffron, something (like cilantro and coconut) that I avoided for years.

Making such soups, however, becomes more of a problem hereabouts. Most recipes call for fish stock, and I often have problems getting fish frames, or bones, at my usually very reliable seafood dealer. Sometimes I sub clam juice, which can be purchased in large cans at some of the grocery stores on the Hill, and I found some fishy equivalent of bouillon cubes that I haven’t had the nerve to use yet. But last week I found an absolutely wonderful soup that avoids the fish stock problem.

This would be an elegant first course for a dinner party, but we used it as a main course. It’s adapted from Elizabeth Rozin’s "The Universal Kitchen," where she calls it avgolemono, but it goes far beyond the egg-and-lemon Greekness that word implies. The saffron brings a whole new dimension, and it’s extremely satisfying.

She calls for fresh tomato, but I’ve used the petite diced canned tomatoes, and she asks for orzo, the rice- shaped pasta. I had some fregola, the small pencil-eraser-sized pasta, on hand and open, so I used it, but something like Israeli couscous (which is actually pasta, but you knew that, didn’t you?), any small pasta, or even rice would work.

2 lbs. fresh mussels

1 c. bottled clam juice

1 Tbs. plus 2 Tbs. fresh lemon juice

3 large cloves of garlic, peeled and smashed

2 Tbs. olive oil

1 medium onion, chopped

about 3/4 c. diced canned tomatoes, drained, or 3-4 plum tomatoes, coarsely chopped

1/4 tsp. salt

several grinds of black pepper

3 c. chicken broth

1/4-1/2 tsp. saffron threads, to taste

1/4 c. small pasta (see above) or rice

3 tsp. dried dill

2 eggs, room temperature

Scrub and debeard the mussels (although these days most mussels don’t have beards) and discard any that are cracked or open. In a large pot, bring the clam juice, 1 tablespoon of the lemon juice and the garlic to a simmer. Add the mussels, put the lid on, and cook for 5 minutes.

Open the pot, remove all the mussels that have opened and set them aside. If any are unopened, put the lid back on, and let cook for another 3 minutes or so. Remove the rest, discarding any that haven’t opened.

Occasionally mussel broth, which is what you have now, can be sandy. Some people strain it; I just carefully pour it off into another container and check the bottom of the pot for any. Remove the mussels from their shells and discard the shells. Cover the mussels and set aside.

In that large pot, heat the olive oil over moderate heat. Add the onion and saute until golden. Add the tomatoes. If you’re using fresh, cook for another few minutes. Add the salt, pepper, chicken broth and saffron. Bring the liquid to a boil and add the pasta or rice. Cook for about 10 minutes, 15 for rice, until it’s tender. Stir in the dill and the reserved mussels and turn off the heat.

In a medium bowl, beat the eggs well. Gradually add a ladleful of the hot soup, stirring the eggs constantly, then another ladleful , and then another, bringing the temperature of the eggs up. Stir the soup, and while stirring it, slowly pour in the eggs. The soup will thicken a little.

Taste the soup, add more salt, pepper, or lemon juice as needed. If you must reheat the soup, don’t bring it to a boil; it’ll separate.

Serves 3 as a main course, 4-6 as a first course.

-Ann

Oreo Cheesecake

New Year’s Eve is upon us - somehow, it always seems to get lost in the Christmas hullabaloo, and we get rather short notice for what always calls for something a little special and all its own. Here’s a large, rich cheesecake that despite its, uh, unsophisticated theme, always has people reaching for more. It works well for a party because of its size, and from the standpoint of New Year’s Eve, provides serious ballast for an evening of imbibing. This should line a tummy well enough to slow down the effects of any alcohol.

It’s lush and creamy, the filling laced with broken-up Oreos hiding under a sour cream topping, the whole thing laid out in a buttery Oreo crust. Buy the largest package of regular Oreos (not the Double Stuff), which will give you a little more than what’s called for in the recipe, thus thoughtfully allowing for the cook’s mandatory ingredient-testing. If you really can’t bring yourself to eat the extras, toss them in with the ones for the crust; the amount needed in the actual filling is, to my way of thinking, just right. More crumbs for the crust make it easier to spread and pat it, which can be frustrating if you don’t do it very often.

Just one more thing: Be sure that all the ingredients are at room temperature, so things will mix up smoothly.

For the crust:

25 Oreo cookies

4 Tbs. butter, melted

For the Filling:

4 8-ounce packages cream cheese, room temperature

1 1/4 c. sugar, plus another 1/4 c. sugar

2 Tbs. flour

4 large eggs, room temperature

3 egg yolks, room temperature

1/3 c. whipping cream, room temperature

1 tsp. vanilla, plus another 1 tsp. vanilla

15 Oreo cookies, coarsely chopped

2 c. sour cream

a 10-inch springform pan and a baking sheet to set it on

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Place the rack in the middle of the oven. Butter the springform pan.

Break up the 25 Oreo cookies–I just crumble them in quarters–and put them in the food processor. Process until they’re crumbs. Add butter and blend. (Without a processor, I’d put the cookie pieces in a sturdy plastic bag and run a rolling pin over them to crush them, then mix the crumbs and butter in a bowl.) Pat the mixture evenly over the bottom and about 2/3 of the way up the sides of the springform pan. The edges will be irregular, but that’s okay. I really don’t want people thinking I use a commercial crust for my cheesecake. Refrigerate the pan while you prepare the filling.

Beat the cream cheese in the large bowl of an electric mixer. Use the paddle beater rather than the wire whisk type, if you have a choice, and beat on medium speed until it’s smooth. Add 1 1/4 cups sugar, beating until it’s light and rather fluffy, stopping to scrape down the bowl occasionally. Sprinkle in the flour and mix it in. Leave the beater on low and mix in the eggs, one at a time, still scraping the bowl frequently, and the egg yolks the same way. Mix until smooth, add the whipping cream and 1 teaspoon vanilla, and mix them in.

Pour about half the batter into the prepared crust. Sprinkle the chopped Oreos evenly over the batter.

     

Carefully pour the remaining batter over the Oreos. If needed, you can smooth the top with a spatula. Sometimes some of the Oreos rise to the top. That’s okay.

Place the pan on the baking sheet. Bake at 425 degrees for 15 minutes. Drop the oven temperature to 225 degrees and bake for an additional 55-65 minutes or until the cake is set. The center should jiggle only slightly.

Remove cake from oven. Raise oven temperature to 350 degrees. Stir together sour cream, remaining 1/4 cup sugar and 1 teaspoon vanilla in small bowl. Spread the mixture evenly over the cheesecake, and return it to the oven. Bake it 7-8 minutes until the sour cream sets. Remove from oven, and set aside to cool to room temperature. Cover and refrigerate.

Run a sharp, narrow-blade knife around the edge of the pan before removing the sides of the pan prior to serving.

Serves 10-12.

-Ann

Election Cake

Next Tuesday, we’re both working the polls, serving as election judges. We began doing this four years ago, and while it’s exhausting, we both love it. It’s exciting seeing people of all types and sizes  and ages coming out to perform what we think is a near-religious act, participating in their country’s essential action. Because our polling spot is near a major university, we’ve seen lots of first-time voters, including one arriving on a skateboard and more than one depositing a ballot and high-fiving pals.

The polls in Missouri open at 6 a.m. and close at 7 p.m. Like the folks at your polls, we arrive at 5 a.m. and stay until everything is verified, taken down, put away and locked up. Occasionally, that’s 7:45. Sometimes, it’s nearly 9. That’s one very long day.

This year, the Election Board has asked that we not leave for lunch, but rather be prepared to eat on the premises. Some judges always have done that. (There was the episode when a voter’s usually well-behaved dog, bored by waiting in line, quietly ate the sandwich, paper bag and all, of the poor judge whose station he was standing by. No one noticed until the dog had finished all but a bit of the bag.) But most of us like to slip away for a little while, catch our breath and have our repast. So it’s carry-in time.

I’m not sure of everything I’m going to haul, but one thing is already set: Election Cake. It’s an old tradition from lower New England, especially Connecticut, dating to the 18th century. Mildly sweet (I omit the drizzled glaze this recipe calls for), it’s a yeast cake, rather coffee-cake-ish. I made it years ago, and wasn’t satisfied with the version, finding it dense and bland, as so many ancient recipes are to the modern palate. But the Washington Post food section archives had this recipe from Patricia Bunning Stevens’ "Rare Bits: Unusual Origins of Popular Recipes," via Kim O’Donnel’s column A Mighty Appetite.

Some people find yeast dough intimidating. I started baking with yeast when I was young and unaware of anything except the recipe I had in front of me. It worked beautifully, and I have never looked back. This recipe requires no kneading. I use my meat thermometer to check the water temperature, but the old baby-bottle test, just warm on the inside of your wrist, held me in good stead for years. (Cooler is better than warmer, which can kill the yeast beasties.) And my raisins were a little exhausted and dried out. I soaked them overnight in a little orange juice, poured off any excess before I added them to the batter, and it was absolutely fine.

Not a particularly handsome cake, especially minus the glaze, but an awfully tasty version. Now if we can just make sure we have decent coffee....

-Ann

               ELECTION CAKE

 

2 packages active dry yeast
½ cup warm water (105-115 degrees)
½ cup lukewarm milk (scalded, then cooled)
3 ¼ cups all-purpose flour (divided in two parts: 1 ½ cups, then 1 ¾ cups)
1 teaspoon salt
1 ½ teaspoons cinnamon
½ teaspoon mace
½ teaspoon grated nutmeg
¼ teaspoon ground cloves
1 cup raisins
½ cup chopped pecans
½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened¾ cup sugar
3 eggs
1 cup confectioners' sugar
¼ teaspoon vanilla
3 tablespoons milk

Mix together 1 ¾ cups flour, salt and spices and set aside. Chop raisins, mix with nuts and set aside. Cream butter with sugar until light and fluffy. Add eggs one at a time, beating after each addition. Blend in yeast mixture. Gradually add dry ingredients, beating until smooth after each addition Add raisin-pecan mixture and mix well.

Grease and flour a standard angel food pan or large bundt pan. Pour mixture into prepared pan.

Cover and let rise in a warm place until dough almost reaches the top, 1 ½-2 hours. When ready to bake, preheat oven to 350 degrees. Bake cake until golden brown, 40-50 minutes. Cool 10 minutes in pan, then loosen cake from edges with a knife. Turn out onto a cake rack and cool completely.

For glaze: in a mixing bowl, whisk confectioners' sugar, vanilla and milk, until desired spreading consistency. Glaze should cover top of cake and drizzle down the sides.

What To Do With A Chuck Roast

The days dwindle down, and so do the budgets. Not only is the weather cooler and the dark coming earlier, but all of us also seem more interested in saving our pennies. Cooking at home, of course, is one of the best ways to do that, but there are lots of folks who are just entering the world of budget cookery.

I lived in the tight-budget world for many, many years. One of the things I learned is respect for the seemingly lesser cuts of meat. Time to start paying attention to those weekly supermarket ads. I’ve been surprised how many younger cooks have no idea of what to do with chuck roast. You’ll see it, in different parts of the country, as arm roast or blade roast, but it’s the same cut of beef, more or less, its rich, flavorful meat marbled with fat.

Yes, fat. Don’t worry; we’ll discard it in the process of the recipe. This is basically a pot roast to shred and use as filling for tacos, burritos, enchiladas, or even omelets. I first came across it as something to go into scrambled eggs for breakfast burritos.

About the ingredients: Use a brisket instead of a chuck roast, if you wish. The size of the roast isn’t a matter of critical importance. Four pounds is fine, you’ll cook it a little longer. Just make sure you have a lidded dish that will hold the meat. I cook this in the oven, but you can let it simmer on top of the stove. (The cooking time will be about the same.) And if you’ve wondered why there are tomato paste also comes in tubes, this recipe is a good example.

On the subject of chiles, fresh ones are a lot easier to buy than they once were. I like two Anaheims, which are largish and relatively mild, and a couple of jalapenos or the small, intense serranos. You can always crank the heat up later, so err on the side of mild if you’re hesitant. The ground chiles can be harder to come by. This is not chili powder, although if I had nothing else, I’d use it. It’s also not cayenne pepper or red pepper flakes. Better to look for ground chiles at some place like La Tropicana or Global Market. You can also use dried chiles, the tops torn off, seeds shaken out, the peppers torn up and tossed into the spice grinder. Last winter I bought a ristra, or string of chiles at a roadside stand outside of Tucson, Ariz., and used a couple of those. I have no idea of what the variety of chile is, but the smell in the grinder was almost flowery, although there’s a fair kick to them.

Beef Filling for Tacos

1 3-lb. Chuck roast or beef brisket

1 Tbs. + 1 Tbs. cooking oil

2 Tbs. tomato paste

1 Tbs. ground chile

2 cloves garlic, finely minced or put through a press

3 bay leaves

water

1/2 c. chopped onion

1 med ium tomato, diced

4 fresh chiles, hot and/or mild, seeded and chopped

salt to taste

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Choose a covered Dutch oven-type pot and heat it over medium-high heat. When the pot is hot, add the oil, and let it heat until it shimmers. Add the chuck roast and let it brown, first on one side, then on the other. Smear the tomato paste on the browned side of the meat, sprinkle on the garlic and add enough hot tap water to barely cover the meat. Add the bay leaves and cover the pan. No, we’re not adding salt now.

When the meat is quite tender, remove the pan from the oven and set it aside to cool. Take the meat out of the liquid when it’s cool enough to handle, but if you let it get quite cold, it becomes harder to shred.

Some people use two forks to shred meat, but I just wash my hands really well and start breaking it up, discarding fat and connective tissue. Transfer the shredded meat to a separate bowl. You may want to moisten it a little with the broth remaining in the pan. Save what broth you don’t use, and later freeze it for soup night or making risotto.

Heat a tablespoonful of oil in a skillet over medium-high heat. Add the chopped onion and cook until it’s translucent, stirring occasionally. Stir in the chopped chiles and tomatoes and cook another 3-4 minutes. Then stir in the shredded beef and cook, stirring often, until everything is hot. Taste for seasoning. More salt? Maybe more of the cooking liquid? (Sometimes I end up using it all.)

That’s it. What you do with it now is up to you. Serves about 6, but that depends, of course, on how generously you stuff a burrito and what else you put into it.

-Ann