Gluten free

When I think of bigos I immediately feel like I'm about to open presents. See, for me it's the ultimate Christmas dish and one of the perfect comfort dishes. It is a meal ideal for entertaining guests and a good topic for a conversation about Poland, its culture and history. It is so because it's a dish similar to Russian and German dishes and very often when I introduce someone to it they say "But this is so German!" or something of a similar effect. Yes, I perfectly understand why anyone would think so- bigos is mostly sauerkraut and meat so you can't get any more German than that.

Longer ago than I care to admit, a dear friend asked me about making pie crust. And since today is that person’s birthday, I figured evidence that I hadn’t forgotten that request might make a suitable birthday gift.

When done well, pie crust is a deep brown, delectable testament to the near-miraculous effect of heat on a few simple ingredients. Tender and flaky, it serves as a perfect embrace for fresh fruits, pudding, or whatever tasty filling a cook can devise. Pie crust can also be intimidating as hell to make, because the quality of those simple ingredients really matters. So does the cook’s handling of them. I am by no means an expert pie baker, but I am adequate and if I had regular practice, I’m confident I could become an expert one. So could you; and here are my tips and an excellent recipe for starting down that path. Let’s head into the kitchen!

A while back I went on and on about turkey. Having recently roasted another big bird, I have a few observations on the process, along with another food bonus for those willing to wander back in to the kitchen with me.

A while back I read an enthusiastic endorsement of a new cheesecake cookbook on a foodie site; being a cheesecake lover, I clicked through to Amazon to check it out. The cookbook is apparently based on a successful restaurant’s New York-style cheesecake recipes. But a few things in an editorial review turned me off of the book, and of their cheesecakes. My primary objection is the use of corn starch in the cheesecake. Now, I know that restaurants need to be as concerned with food appearance as much as taste, but as something of a cheesecake snob, I do not like extra binders in my cheesecake. The cheese and eggs should be sufficient—no flour, gelatin, or corn starch should be necessary to get a smooth cheesecake. They can add off flavors and textures to the cake. I’ve never had a problem with cracks in my cheesecakes, and I’ve never gone to the lengths described to accomplish a picture-perfect cheesecake—I don’t use extra binders, I don’t use a water bath, and I bake the cheesecakes at typical (325–350° F) temperatures.

All that said, making a pretty and delectable cheesecake is one of the trickier propositions I’ve encountered. Still, all that’s required is some extra care in preparing the batter and baking the cake. For starters, one must plan ahead: cheesecakes taste best after mellowing about 24 hours after they’re baked. Follow me into the kitchen if you’re interested in the secrets of homemade cheesecake success.

Longer ago than I wish to consider, I promised Ian I’d post my roast turkey recipe. His procedure involves brining the turkey, which I must admit, I’ve never tried. It seems like a complicated and potentially messy way to try to avoid what is the bane of all cooks—a dry turkey. (Trust me on that: in my house, with that much water, sugar, and salt involved, plus two young children who would almost certainly be “helping” at some point in the process, spillage is a given.)

I first came across the basic procedure I have modified to suit my needs several years ago, when I needed a fast way to roast a turkey. I modified it when I needed to create a gluten-free turkey gravy procedure ... and true to form, I am still tweaking the recipe, but am very pleased with it overall. It doesn’t guarantee a moist turkey—no recipe can, because if a turkey is overcooked, it will be dry—but I have never had a properly-roasted turkey come out dry using this recipe.

Before those of us who want to continue head off into the kitchen, I would like to wish a wonderful Thanksgiving to “my seven readers”, as well as others who wander in via some search. I appreciate your interest in my ramblings, and I especially value the stimulating feedback and ideas many of you share with me. Here’s to the internet! [clink!]

And now, off to the recipes ... plus a bonus for those of you with the fortitude to read to the end.

My guess is pretty much any decent cook can take a chicken carcass or some beef bones and make a decent stock from it. I regularly save roasted chicken remains and freeze them until I have enough to make a big batch of chicken stock. It’s thrifty, easy, and much tastier and more healthful than bouillon cubes and powders and the like (although I will admit to using a couple of Penzeys soup bases in a pinch). But what about vegetable stock? Turns out it is every bit as easy to make—and for the investment of ingredients and time, it’s an even better payoff than homemade meat stocks. Best of all, homemade stock won’t have unknown quantities of mystery or undesirable ingredients like modified food starch or MSG. This stuff is liquid gold when it comes to adding a nice flavor boost to rice, polenta, and pasta sauces. And of course, it makes a splendid base for building other sauces, or gravies, soups, and stews.

Some of y’all might remember that Jim Bovard is a peanut butter connoisseur. I really like the stuff too, as long as we’re talking real peanut butter, the kind without added sugar and that requires stirring to get the peanut oil put back into suspension.

After my conversation with Jim turned to peanut butter, I began private negotiations to get some recipes out of him. His, er, terms being a little too high for me, I set out to create my own peanut buttery goodness. And I think I’ve done a good job with my first effort—a peanut butter frosting that’s easy, has only five ingredients, and tastes wonderful. Best of all, it doesn’t contain loads of confectioner’s sugar.

I have lost three very successful pood experiments this summer, because I failed to write down what I tossed together for dinner and subsequently forgot what I did. At MAL’s urging not to let that happen with tonight’s main course, I hereby record my first effort at a potato-tomato frittata. Pretty cheap, good eats!

One of my favorite meats is turkey; and it’s also a meal that I greatly enjoy preparing. Transforming that pale, slippery skin into a golden, crisp covering for the juicy meat beneath is very satisfying ... and even a small turkey provides a good amount of meat. MAL has been known to bring home a turkey in the summer, and even then I’m happy to fire up the oven and stovetop to roast the turkey and make mashed potatoes and gravy.

Someday I’ll post my oven-roasted turkey recipe, and challenge Ian to a turkey cook-off—he’s already posted his brining and cooking procedure (I’m too lazy to look it up at the moment). For now, I’m focusing on ways to handle leftovers. I’ve got a good turkey soup recipe down pat, as well as turkey-potato cakes, but it’s nice to add another variation to one’s recipe box.

The other day, I set out a bunch of frozen turkey meat without a clear idea of what I was going to do with it for dinner. I started tossing things into a saucepan, stirring and sampling, and what I ended up with was a dish MAL and I really liked. The snolfs, however, did not. Having just read parts of a Calvin and Hobbes book, they dubbed my creation “Bat Barf”. I doubt that it resembles bat barf at all, but I’ve a feeling the name will stick (another of my creations has the lovely title “Ick and Yuck”).

Anyway, I’d told Ian that if he posted a chicken rotis recipe he’d mentioned, I’d post my bat barf recipe. Ian has come through in his singular style – here’s his amusing method for making chicken rotis. Read on – if you dare! – for the soon-to-be-legendary [or maybe not] recipe for Bat Barf.

Last weekend, for an outing with some freedom-minded folk, I made a New York cheesecake, and wanted a topping to offer with it. I recalled that Lobo picked huge quantities of blackberries while we were gone, and most of them are still waiting patiently in the freezer for my attention ... so I made a blackberry sauce. It's very easy to make sauces full of fresh-fruit taste, from frozen fruit—but it does require some advance planning.

I have been cooking quite a bit of rabbit lately and thought I'd share one of my recipes. It is original, although has undoubtedly has influenced by various cookbooks, restaurants and friends.

When a pal asks, I try to help if I can. And Kirsten asked for a meatball recipe. I hadn't forgotten about my promised "meatball madness", but with Sunni's Salon due out this week I hadn't planned to have time to devote to it. She says she wants Italian-style meatballs, which is easy enough. No rice in 'em -- ditto that. And nicely spiced. Heh. I could make your head spin with options, but I'm feeling nice this morning so I won't.

I should've known I'd get requests to share my marshmallow recipe after talking about how easy and fun it was to make 'em. So, here's my marshmallow recipe, along with the caveat that I've not experimented with the recipe to see if it can be improved, or what modifications yield tasty variations. But I provide some good ideas for mods, for adventurous souls ... and the link to the original source of the recipe will provide interested cooks with possibilities for making vegan marshmallows. Hope you enjoy the recipe as much as we do!