Day 66

We’ve been in quarantine for nine weeks. I still haven’t made a sourdough starter.

I’ve been reading blog posts and seeing social media photos for years showing other people’s amazing sourdough loaves. The pace at which these appear has ratcheted up significantly over the past two months as quarantine sourdough has become trendy.

Every time I see one of these, I think, maybe I should finally do it. I should commit. I already know how to make bread. I love sourdough. I could have all the sourdough I want. I should do it. Everybody else is doing it.

So I read the recipe again. And then I think the same thing, every time: it seems like so much work. You have to know you want to make bread, like, two days ahead of time in order to feed the starter enough to be ready, and you have to start the actual bread dough not much later than that.

And the thing is, I already make bread all the time. I always have bread dough in my refrigerator. I can pull it out and make homemade rolls for dinner on a whim, and when my dough container starts to look empty, I can whip up a batch of slow-rise bread in about 5 minutes in the morning or afternoon and have freshly baked bread the same day. I use the same dough to make pizza, pita bread, and recently, bagels. I always keep the end of the previous batch to act as a starter for the next batch, so it’s an integral part of the cycle in my kitchen. 

On Sunday morning, I woke up unusually early - my anxiety has been manifesting in weird ways during quarantine, and periodically waking up extra early has been one of the weirdest - wanting to make a pan loaf of bread. What Miss B calls a “toast loaf”. I already knew I had a big batch of dough in the fridge that I’d made the night before (using my standard recipe), so I went downstairs, ripped off a chunk of it, shaped it into a loaf, and dropped it into a small loaf pan that I’d greased and floured. I let it rise for over an hour until it had doubled in size, and then put it in the oven to cook while I was making Sunday breakfast.

It doesn’t look all that impressive, and it’s certainly won’t be confused for an artisan loaf. But it tastes good, and it does the job. And it’s a reminder that having the time, the ingredients, and the resources to make any bread at all is a privilege, now more than ever. 

Long weekend

It's a long weekend in Australia! (Have I mentioned before that I find it endlessly entertaining that the Queen's birthday is a public holiday here, but not in the UK? Because I do. Also I have to make the most of it because this is our last Monday public holiday until, I think, October. Yikes!)

Here's the latest news from around here:

DP's birthday was this past week - can you work out how old he is from the candles? Appropriately given his profession and interests (and name), his birthday falls on a major event in military history, and this year his seminar students found out and celebrated by giving him a running real-time recap of happenings throughout that fateful day 73 years ago. I took the easy route by making his favorite dinner (steak au poivre and mashed potatoes) and baking his favorite cake.

Also this past week - family friends of ours are dealing with some medical stuff and, like us, are far from their family support networks. So, on the day when one parent was in the hospital overnight and the other parent was wrangling everything else (including three kids), I volunteered to bring over dinner. Pasta bake to the rescue!

I didn't really use a recipe for this - just made a batch of Disruptive Bolognese in the slow cooker ahead of time, then boiled up 3 boxes (about 3 lbs/1.5 kg) of rigatoni. I mixed it all up together with lots of grated cheese and some baby spinach (vegetables makes it a nutritionally complete main course!), scooped it into a disposable baking tin, and wrapped it up. (I also made up a smaller pan for us to have for dinner that night, killing two birds with one stone.) With a loaf of bread and a batch of blondies, it made a complete meal and was a pretty low-stress way to lend a helping hand.

And a good reminder to be grateful for little things - like Sunday breakfast with my own family.

And flowers to cheer us - even on the gloomiest winter days.


 

Dessert prep

NaBloPoMo, Day 25.

Thanksgiving desserts now more or less ready to go: 3 apple pies and 2 chocolate espresso pecan pies. (Not pictured: the special kids' dessert pie, wrapped up and ready to bake, and the tiny raspberry pie I made just for Miss B, still in the oven.) I'd say more, but between these, work, and dinner guests, I'm kind of done for today.

T-4 prep

NaBloPoMo, Day 23.

I didn't get a huge amount of Thanksgiving food prep done today (having guests for Sunday breakfast and lunch used up most of my cooking time and energy), but I did manage to go over all the recipes, finalize quantities and ingredients needed, and make up my final shopping and food prep lists (the latter pictured above). The idea behind this is that I'm going to hang it up to keep me on track over the next few days. Then, on the big day, when all the people who've offered to help turn up in the kitchen, instead of flailing as I usually do, I can just point them to this. They can pick one of the remaining tasks from the list, and get on with it. I'm making up a similar one for non-food related tasks (set tables, etc.). I also managed to clear out one whole drawer in my freezer for temporary storage, as well as the whole of the overflow fridge in the guest annex.

In other news, the high temperature in Canberra today was 95F/35C. A little early for that kind of thing, but I'm not going to complain given the weather some other people have been having.

T-5 prep

NaBloPoMo, Day 22.

So, how are you spending the weekend? Given my post yesterday, I'm betting you can guess how I'm spending a good chunk of mine:

(Note divided prep list - because of course I forgot to look at the whole calendar, and invited people for Sunday lunch tomorrow! A glutton for punishment, that's me.)

Cutting up bread to dry out for stuffing...was absolutely thrilled to find some really good local bread on sale at half-price, which means I don't have to bake my own stuffing bread.

One appetizer taken care of - a big batch of sweet and spicy roasted nuts cooling after coming out of the slow cooker.

Slow cooker doing double duty - now working on a large batch of caramelized onions, which will get used in stuffing, gravy, and possibly another appetizer.

Enough pie crust for at least four pies ready and waiting (and probably more, since there's at least one single-crust pie on the list).

No close-up of the stock, but you can see the pot on the stove; I roasted up a bunch of chicken wings, then threw them in with to simmer with some chopped carrots, celery, and onion. This will be used mainly for gravy and stuffing. (I would've liked to have made turkey stock, but turkey parts are hard to come by around here and us expat beggars can't be choosers.)

All of which contributed to a kitchen that looked like a complete disaster area by 5pm. (We got takeout for dinner, so it's clean again...for now.)

Luckily, this is actually one of my favorite ways to spend an afternoon. Hope you're getting to do the same today.


 

Chocolate tart

Today I’m going to share with you what may be one of my weirder frugal habits.

When I have baked goods sitting around that are starting to lose their allure, I don’t throw them away. Instead, I put them in my food processor and grind them up into crumbs. Then I freeze the crumbs.

I also don’t bother to distinguish between the crumbs. The kinds of thing that are likely to get ground up are all sort of variants of the same thing, points along the chocolate chip cookie/congo bar/blondie/brownie continuum. Since they all have more or less the same ingredients, I cavalierly assume they all taste good together, and freeze all the crumbs in the same bag.

That way I’ve got them handy to make stuff like this without advance notice or planning. And they do make the crust taste better than one made with store-bought cookies, though I say it myself - particularly if you’ve browned the butter beforehand.

Chocolate tart

In researching how to make this tart, I discovered that there are two ways of getting a crumb crust to firm up: cooking it briefly, or refrigerating it. Since all the crust ingredients had already been cooked once, and the filling needs to be chilled, I opted for refrigeration. As a bonus, this is a great do-ahead dessert.

Cookie crust

8 oz/240 g cookie or baked-good crumb of your choice

4 oz/120 g butter, melted

2 Tbsp sugar (optional)

Grease the inside of a cake or tart pan* (preferably one with a loose bottom) generously and set aside.

Mix the butter into the crumbs gradually; you might not need all of it, depending upon how dry or wet the crumbs are to start with. You are looking to achieve a thick, lumpy but malleable mass, somewhat like wet sand.

When the crust mix has reached the right consistency, spread evenly in the bottoms and up the sides of the prepared pan, to a thickness of about ½ inch/1 cm. Place in the refrigeration to chill for 20-30 minutes while you get on with the filling.

Chocolate ganache filling

8 oz/240 ml cream

8 oz/240 g bittersweet chocolate chips

2 Tbsp sugar

1 tsp vanilla

pinch of salt

Heat cream in a small saucepan over medium-low heat until hot but not boiling. Remove from heat and pour in chocolate. Leave mixture to sit for 2-3 minutes, then whisk until cream and chocolate have combined into a thick, shiny, pourable liquid. Whisk in remaining ingredients and allow to cool slightly, about 5 minutes.

Remove prepared crust from refrigerator and pour in ganache. Tap and tilt the pan to make sure the ganache fills the crust evenly and smoothly, then return pan to refrigerator and chill for at least 1 hour.

Remove tart from the refrigerator 20-30 minutes before serving to take some of the chill off.

Serves 8.

* I used an 8 in/20 cm loose-bottom cake pan for this recipe. If yours is much bigger, the filling may be too thin.

Teapot people

In the 11 days since DP’s been home, we’ve had two sets of houseguests (the first was here for five days, and the second for three), plus Sunday lunch guests in the gap in between. All invited by my husband (who continues to claim that he’s shy and introverted), and all primarily, or originally, professional connections of his. And all, therefore, people to whom I privately refer as ‘teapot people’.

I don’t know if this is a distinction only I make. I’m not a serious tea drinker, but when I do make myself a cup of tea, I make it with a teabag straight in the mug. I do the same for any friends who happen to be hanging around who are in the mood for a cuppa. Breaking out the teapot is serious business, reserved for more formal circumstances: usually people that I don’t yet know very well or, if I do, with whom I still have the kind of relationship where I stand on ceremony, even if we’ve spent a lot of time together. Respected elders, that kind of thing. People in front of whom I sit up straight at the table, and try not to swear.

But I will still feed them Italian peasant food for dinner. Sometimes you just have to let the real you shine through.

Ratatouille minestrone

I think this is really more what my ancestors would call giambotta, but more people are familiar with minestrone, so let’s go with that. I was inspired to make this because it solved two conundrums: 1. what to do with a vat of leftover ratatouille from Sunday lunch; and 2. what to feed houseguests for a late, light dinner that could mostly be prepped ahead of time?

Since this is a creative re-purposing of leftovers, I’m going to give you the sequence of events, rather than a recipe per se.

On Sunday, I chopped:

1 large red bell pepper/capsicum

1 large red onion

5 medium zucchini/courgettes

1 medium eggplant

1 dozen large cherry tomatoes

I tossed the chunks with olive oil, stuck them in the oven, and roasted them for about 45 minutes until they looked ready to eat. When they came out, I tossed them with lemon juice, salt, and black pepper and served them.

This turned out to be way more than enough vegetables for four adults and one child (along with peposo alla notturno, garlic mashed potatoes, and rolls), and at least 50% of it went into the fridge as leftovers. So, on Tuesday, I did the following:

-       chopped up and briefly sautéed 4 slices of Italian salami, 1 carrot, 1 celery stalk, and 2 cloves of garlic in olive oil with 2 anchovies

-       dumped this mixture into my slow cooker

-       deglazed the frying pan with about half a glass of red wine and added that to the slow cooker as well

-       added the leftover ratatouille

-       poured in about half of a bottle of tomato passata and the same amount of water

-       drained, rinsed, and added a can of chick peas

I stirred this all together, clapped the lid on the slow cooker, and left it to stew for about 3 hours on high while we were all out attending to various commitments. Then, just before serving, I seasoned with salt and a generous sprinkle of cayenne pepper, as well as a drizzle of balsamic vinegar.

I served it topped with grated pecorino romano cheese and accompanied by pesto cheese crostini – thin slices of bread brushed with oil, topped with pesto and grated parmigiano reggiano cheese, and grilled briefly in the oven.

I’m still eating the leftovers. They get better every day.

Pasta bake

When you’re halfway through a bout of solo parenting (as I currently am), nothing breaks up the monotony like a mum-and-kid playdate. Bonus points if it’s another solo-parenting mum who is also craving social interaction, a change of scene, and some quality adult conversation.

Yesterday Miss B and I met up with our pals LB and Mr W for an afternoon outing to see Despicable Me 2 (even more minions!). When we made the plan, I’d invited them back here afterwards for some playtime and dinner afterwards. Knowing I’d want to be able to concentrate on the conversation, I opted to get most of the prep out of the way before we left for the movies, and made a pasta bake.

Creamy pasta bake

For this concoction, I used a combination of ingredients that I frequently make as a pasta dish, with some adaptations to make it work in baked form (mainly a roux sauce rather than a pan sauce).

Pasta

1 lb/450 g short pasta of your choice (I used gemelli)

1 Tbsp/.5 oz/15g butter

Mix-ins

4 slices bacon, chopped,

1 shallot, peeled and chopped

¼ cup/2 oz/60 ml white wine

1 bunch spinach, washed and roughly chopped

Sauce

2 Tbsp/1 oz/30 g butter

4 Tbsp/1 oz/30 g flour

¼ cup/2 oz/60 ml white wine

1 cup/8 oz/240 ml stock or similar (I was out, so used the pasta cooking water)

1 cup/8oz/240 ml pouring cream

2 oz/60 g cheddar cheese

pinch cayenne pepper

salt

Topping

2-3 handfuls of shredded parmigiano reggiano cheese

2-3 Tbsp of grated pecorino romano cheese

Bring a large pot of salted water to the boil, then add pasta and cook until just edible and still very al dente (8-10 minutes). Drain, reserving 1-2 cups of the pasta water. Return to the pasta pot (minimizing washing up!) and mix in 1 Tbsp of butter to keep from sticking. Set aside.

While the pasta cooks, you can get on with the mix-ins and sauce.

Mix-ins In a large skillet, cook the bacon over medium heat until it begins to brown and crisp, 5-7 minutes. Once you start to see signs of browning, add the shallot and continue to sauté, stirring frequently. When the bacon is looking crisp and the shallots have softened, add the wine and stir briskly to scrape up all the good stuff that will be stuck to the bottom of the skillet. Add the spinach and leave to wilt for another 5-7 minutes, stirring regularly.

Sauce Melt butter in a medium saucepan over medium-low heat, then add flour and stir together with a whisk to make a roux.* When the roux has cooked sufficiently, add wine and continue stirring. Add remaining ingredients in the order listed, stirring frequently to bring everything together. Bring just to boiling point and let simmer for a bit to thicken the sauce up. Make sure the cheese melts and finish off by salting to taste.

Assembly Lightly grease the inside of a casserole dish (I used an oval 2.8-liter which held this amount of food perfectly). Empty skillet of mix-ins into the waiting pasta and mix together, then pour over half the sauce and mix again. Pour the whole mixture into the prepared casserole dish and spread out to even depth. Pour in the rest of the sauce.

This is the point where I covered the dish with foil and put it in the refrigerator for 3 hours. When we got back from the cinema, I cooked it as follows.

Preheat oven to 180C/350F. Remove casserole dish from fridge, but leave covered. When oven is preheated, put in casserole and leave to cook for 30-40 minutes, until beginning to brown and bubble on the edges. At this point, remove foil, add topping cheeses, and return to oven for 10-15 minutes.

Let stand for 10 minutes before serving if possible. Generously served 2 adults and 2 children, with probably another 4 servings left over.

* See here for an in-depth discussion of making roux-based sauces and gravies.