I’ve been fortunate in that I’ve never had to learn how to make strawberry freezer jam. I’ve been even more fortunate in that I never even tasted store-bought jam until I was practically an adult.

As a result, I’m spoiled. Spoiled rotten. I turn up my nose at Smucker’s, and even those fancy top-shelf brand jams can’t satisfy.

I never had to learn how to make strawberry freezer jam because every year I saw my mom make it right in front of me. Sis and I got drafted to help pick strawberries in our grandparents’ strawberry patch. I recall crouching low, pushing through the leaves, and searching for the elusive strawberries Grandma insisted were still there even though we were sure we’d gotten them all.

Nowadays we buy our strawberries already picked from local growers. Rhode’s Strawberries, run by “Captain Bob” Rhode of Chesaning Showboat fame, is always our first choice. Most area growers this year, though, complained of small harvests and we wound up going about 35 miles away to find reasonably-priced berries.

let’s make strawberry freezer jam!

Making strawberry freezer jam is a snap because there’s no special recipe. In fact, deviation from the standard recipe is frowned upon because it will likely result in failure of the jam to set up properly. Just clean one quart of strawberries per batch of freezer jam. Have one package of Sure-Jell or other pectin on hand for each batch. Then chop up those berries. You could briefly, carefully whirl them in a food processor, or use a potato masher, but I find the chopper to be my favorite.

Oops, you can’t really see the chopper in that pic. Here’s a better one! See, it’s like a biscuit cutter, but darksided.

Add the sugar to the chopped strawberries. I’ve got a double batch going in this picture; that’s why there’s so honkin’ much. You can totally double batch it, but don’t even think of triple or more batches at a time. That’s crazy talk.

At this point in the process, if you’re gonna be snapping pictures, you’d better have someone else around, because the stirring and the pouring and the stirring again and the zomg fill the jars before jam sets madness is going on and things are, if not exactly hectic, then not quite “Let’s stop and compose an artsy photo” conducive.

See, for the above, after the lime went in the coconut sugar went in the strawberries, the water went into the pectin, the pectin-water went into the strawberry-sugar, and the pectin-water-strawberry-sugar went into the adorable little jars. And all pretty quickly too, because if you lollygag, the jam will set up before you get it into the jars, which isn’t a tragedy but is a bit messy.

The strawberry freezer jam recipe is in every package of Sure-Jell, and I’m including it below as well, with tips and commentary Kraft simply does not offer. Oo la la.

strawberry freezer jam recipe

Every time I’ve made strawberry freezer jam, and every time anyone I know has made it, I’ve gotten more jam than the recipe predicts (5). I always wind up with 6 cups or 6½ cups. So be prepared with extra clean jars/containers. In fact, that’s always a good idea when canning or preserving. You don’t want to stop in the middle of something time-sensitive to wash jars.

yield: 5–6 cups
special equipment: chopper or food processor; funnel
time: 60 to 90 minutes, plus 24 hours

1 quart strawberries
4 cups granulated sugar
¾ cup water
1 box Sure-Jell fruit pectin

Wash 6 cups’ worth of containers and lids in warm soapy water and dry thoroughly.

Hull and wash strawberries. Chop strawberries until they’re soupy and contain chunks in the size you desire.

Stir in the sugar. It won’t all dissolve right away. Let stand for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. While waiting, set out jars/containers where you plan to fill them, and get a ladle and a funnel ready if you have one.

In a small saucepan, mix water and pectin and bring to a boil over high heat. Stir constantly. Boil for 1 minute, stirring constantly and watching to be sure it does not boil over.

Remove pectin from heat and add to the strawberry-sugar mixture. Stir for 3 minutes or until sugar is dissolved. The sugar may not be entirely dissolved, but 3 minutes is all you need to stir, or less if the sugar dissolves quickly.

Immediately fill containers, ladling the hot jam through the funnel if you have one, leaving ½ inch head space to allow room for expansion in the freezer.

Cover containers with their lids and let stand at room temperature for 24 hours. Then the strawberry freezer jam is all ready to go into the freezer.

© Amy for Shiny Cooking, 2010. | Permalink | 2 comments | Add to del.icio.us
Post tags: strawberries

Sis and Mom were thrilled with the dinner party. “You can do this anytime,” they cooed conspiratorially, and they began plotting holiday schedules. “Thanksgiving, Christmas…no, Mom will still do Christmas…Easter….”

I hadn’t hosted an event of this magnitude before. A bit over a month ago my sponsor, Foodbuzz, contacted me with the offer to host a pasta and wine-pairing dinner party using free coupons supplied by Buitoni Riserva. That shit’s expensive, so I jumped at the chance.

the asparagus mistake

I picked up 5 packages each of fresh pasta agnolotti, which is is a jumbo half-moon shaped ravioli. One was wild mushroom, and I planned to toss it with roasted asparagus and chives, drizzle it with olive oil, and top it with freshly ground black pepper and goat cheese. Unfortunately, I didn’t consult my sister the asparagus roasting expert, and left it in the oven about 20 minutes instead of the 5 she said was correct, and the asparagus came out limp and mushy.

My aunt, Linda, brought over a bunch of chives she snipped from her patch, some blooming with crunchy-oniony flowers atop them. They were too pretty to ignore, so they got put out on the table.

The guest list: Mom and Dad, Jennifer and Dale Javier (he said he wanted to be called Javier), Mom’s best friend Leeann and her daughter (and my friend) Angie, and Linda. I asked Leeann which wine she wanted to drink. “Oh, I love all white wine,” she said, so I poured her the La Noble chardonnay I’d picked up and a teeny glass of fino. Fino is very dry sherry that I drank a lot in Spain and it always makes me think of briny olives, tapas, dancing sevillanas, and walking home through the Parque de María Luisa at seven in the morning.

Not everyone was into the wine thing, though. Dad and Javier mixed themselves up some massive bloody marys.

Check out this spread! Angie made that vibrant salad, Mom brought the relish tray, and there’s the wild mushroom agnolotti along with the four cheese (Quattro Formaggi) agnolotti, and the red sauce I mixed up for the latter.

where’s my two dollars?

There’s Linda and the view from the other side of the tablecloth. That’s right, tablecloth. Cloth napkins. Frawnch fries. Frawnch bread. Kwissssmassss. Pardon me, I’m channeling Better Off Dead.

The top is the wild mushroom agnolotti with the asparagus/chives/black pepper/olive oil/goat cheese topping I mentioned. The left/bottom is the four cheese agnolotti with a roasted red pepper and kalamata olive sauce, topped with fresh basil. And supposed to have grated parmesan on top, but I forgot to get it on there for the pic. That sauce was the bomb.

Jennifer posed for an action shot! You can see a glass of red wine, which would be the shiraz Angie brought. I’d originally planned on cabernet to pair with the wild mushroom agnolotti, but we ended up breaking that out later. The red paired really well with the four cheese as well. Personally, I drank a little of the chardonnay and the shiraz and liked them both with both pastas. Maybe I’m just easy. Don’t answer that.

Dad warned Javier early on, “You’re not going to be getting any meat here tonight.” Of course they were going through that theater to tease me, but their little plan backfired. They chowed down and made happy noises just as much as everyone else did.

Notice how I ran out of serving dishes and dug into the storage containers. I’m so not prepared for this big party thing.

bring out your desserts

Linda made the coolest. Dessert. Evar. Think peanut butter pound cake. Slice it. Spread with peanut buttercream and blackberry jam. Top with another slice of pound cake.

That’s right. Linda made pound cake pb&j. Awesome.

Jennifer dipped strawberries in chocolate and served them on an appropriately-themed playing cards plate. Did I mention this was dinner and games night?

Mom and Leeann have been best friends for like 40 years, since Leeann moved in next door to Mom and Dad. <suckup>Did I say 40? I meant 20, because they couldn’t be a day over 40 themselves.</suckup>

euchre tournament!

Time to get our game on. With 8 of us present, and everyone liking euchre, we drew numbers, paired up, and had a little euchre tournament. To my chagrin, I was paired with Dale Javier, but he only fucked up once so I didn’t get to yell at him.

Jennifer and Mom were the winning team (never put people with shared DNA on the same team) and suddenly when it was over people began joking, “Where are the prizes?”

“Prizes?” I said, and a light bulb went on. An opportunity to divest myself of some excess goods! I got out some packaged rice/pasta sides I’d been planning to hand off to Linda, some product samples I’d received randomly in the mail, and some decks of playing cards from an estate sale I went to last week. Jennifer chose this lovely rice side dish to take home with her.

For her parting gift, Angie selected “stars of country music” playing cards and some instant coffee samples.

Then we played Perudo, or Liar’s Dice, and after that midnight was approaching, so the parent types and Jennifer and Javier left before they all turned into pumpkins. This left Linda, Angie, Bill, and me, and we broke out the Pictionary.

how to draw siamese twins in pictionary

how not to win at ingenious

Even with the adults gone, the wine kept flowing. We finished the La Noble and the Oak Leaf shiraz. Then we finished the Red Truck varietal red, and broke into the Clos du Bois chardonnay and Ravenswood cabernet, and Linda finished her Funky Llama chardonnay.

Wits and Wagers made an appearance, and then we closed out the night with Ingenious. Angie couldn’t remember if she’d played before and Bill was new to Ingenious, so I played with a handicap — I picked my tiles to play randomly. I got trounced as the newbies quickly picked up on the strategy and scored one Ingenious after another. I’m never believing Cranky Angie again! (Cranky Angie: I don’t think I like this. I don’t know if I want to play this. I know and understand Cranky Angie, because Cranky Amy always makes an appearance with new games too.)

what did i learn from all this?

I can put on a grownup party.

I can sip wine without getting too drunk.

Having smokers around leads to more smoking.

The Buitoni Riserva pastas are really good. The Quattro Formaggi Agnolotti was the hands-down favorite.

Good wine goes with anything.

Euchre needs to be more than a regional game.

roasted red pepper and kalamata olive pasta sauce

This sauce was the hit of the party. Salty, piquant, and complex, it goes well with simple pastas like cheese ravioli or agnolotti. I hesitate to post it as a recipe because it’s so simple, but it’s so good that it must be shared.

1 (28 ounce) jar red pasta sauce, like marinara
1 small (7 ounce) jar roasted red peppers
¼ cup kalamata olives

Purée the roasted red peppers and kalamata olives in a blender. Pour sauce and pepper/olive purée into a 2-quart pan and warm over medium heat. Serve over pasta.

© Amy for Shiny Cooking, 2010. | Permalink | 4 comments | Add to del.icio.us
Post tags: asparagus, basil, cheese, chives, olives, pasta, sweet peppers, tomato

Rhubarb with caramelized onions? Rhubarb salsa? Rhubarb and lentil potage? I can hear you now, the ornery ones of you that is: What the hell, woman…rhubarb’s for pie. Crisps. Crunches.

For April’s Foodbuzz 24, 24, 24 event, I decided to explore the savory side of rhubarb, since there’s a ton of it growing about 50 feet from my front door. As rhubarb is technically a vegetable/herb, why not try some recipes that utilize rhubarb as a vegetable?

Hey, salsa has a tangy bite. I bet rhubarb could work in salsa. So I tracked down a viable candidate in The Joy of Rhubarb: The Versatile Summer Delight. It’s a classic Mexican salsa, with fresh cilantro, green onion (which made me happy; I can’t stand regular onions raw), lime juice, jalapeño for a bit of bite, barely-blanched rhubarb, and lots of sweet peppers and more sugar than salsa normally would have, to counteract the rhubarb’s bite.

Dad’s verdict? “It would be great on hamburgers. By the way, we’re having hamburgers tonight….” Subtle hint there, Dad. Yeah, he went home with some rhubarb salsa. Linda thought it had a bit of a bitter rhubarb taste to it and suggested more sweetener. I loved it. Fresh, crisp, clean salsa taste with the rhubarb adding uniqueness without overpowering it.

Overall verdict for rhubarb salsa: Two snaps up.

Jump to the rhubarb salsa recipe now or continue reading.

balsamic-rhubarb reduction

I swear, this was some fancy-pants shit I made. Asparagus with balsamic-rhubarb reduction (recipe here). It was dead easy, too. You cook down some balsamic vinegar and chopped rhubarb — along with a good little heap of sugar — until most of the liquid has evaporated and you get a thickish sauce. In this preparation, it’s served with roasted asparagus. You could really impress some guests with this stuff.

Dad’s verdict: Tasty, but the roasted asparagus was too soft. He grabbed a stalk of raw asparagus from the 10-pound bag I’d just picked and dipped that in the reduction instead. Linda’s verdict: “Too strong for asparagus. Would be really good with pork or something.” I liked the contrast between the tangy, balsamic-flavored reduction and the mild roasted asparagus, but I see her point. Comme-ci, comme ça.

Overall verdict for rhubarb-balsamic reduction: Two snaps sideways.

lentil and rhubarb potage

The original title of this Mark Bittman recipe is “Lentil and rhubarb stew with Indian spices,” but it’s too thick for a stew. So I did some Google-fu and discovered it was more of a potage, which also sounds fancier.

And man, it may be one ugly mofo of a dish, but damn, lentil and rhubarb potage is tasty. I was shocked. It had no added sugar. I was certain it would be inedible. But I had to try it, because it has cardamom in it, which is my new favorite spice ever.

Linda’s verdict: Really good and interesting. Nice balance of complex flavors. I’m transling from “Mmm” here, by the way.

Overall verdict for rhubarb and lentil potage: Two snaps up.

caramelized onion and rhubarb compote on herbed yogurt cheese

Hey Aunt Geri, I finally broke in the yogurt cheese maker! And all was good. This recipe, heavily adapted from one for caramelized onion, beet, and rhubarb compote, made me nervous. For one, it was another fancy-pants recipe. For another, I was adapting the living hell out of it. I’m not good at that sort of thing. Usually my adaptations tend to turn out more like the rhubarb mistake below. And for yet another thing, I was winging the whole herbed yogurt cheese thing. Entirely.

If you want to adapt the recipe like I did, simply make it without the beet purée, and add more maple syrup when you add the rhubarb, about 2 tablespoons worth. Trust me, you’ll need it. For the herbed cheese the easy way, go with a slightly sweet prepared cheese spread like Aloutte…because that was what I was shooting for. I put them in baked wonton cups, but they’d be better on small squares of puff pastry.

Dad’s verdict: “I really like the cheese and compote filling, but those wontons are like chewing on glass.” Linda’s verdict: “I love that filling!” Me? Shocked. And happy it worked. :p Cue the Smiths.

Overall verdict for caramelized onion and rhubarb compote: Two snaps way up.

rhubarb mistake

Since I had Mexican, Indian, and vaguely Italian (in the form of the caramelized onion and rhubarb compote), I decided to try incorporating rhubarb into a Thai curry. I’m not even going to link to the recipe I worked from, because the experiment was an utter disaster, and I didn’t follow the recipe exactly, so I don’t want to impugn the blogger who posted it.

Suffice it to say: disaster. Coconut milk wasn’t enough sweetness to balance rhubarb’s astringency, the rhubarb became gloopy, and it tasted awful. Oh well.

The experience did cement my dedication to you, the reader: You will never be subjected to a recipe I don’t absolutely love. I want everything you try to be something well-tested and well-liked before it ever hits this page.

Overall verdict for rhubarb mistake: Two snaps way down. Let’s forget all about it and move on to the rhubarb salsa recipe.

rhubarb salsa

Adapted from The Joy of Rhubarb: The Versatile Summer Delight by Theresa Millang.

2 cups finely diced fresh rhubarb
½ cup sweet red pepper, chopped
½ cup sweet yellow pepper, chopped
½ cup fresh cilantro, chopped
3 green onions, tops only, chopped
1 jalapeño pepper, finely chopped
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
2 tablespoons brown sugar, or to taste
salt and ground black pepper to taste

Blanch rhubarb in a saucepan of boiling water for 10 seconds. Seriously. Ten seconds. No more. Remove rhubarb promptly from heat, dump into a strainer, and rinse under cold water until rhubarb is lukewarm or cool. This is to stop the blanching process.

Place rhubarb in a glass bowl.  Add remaining ingredients, and mix well. Refrigerate at least an hour before serving to allow flavors to develop.

© Amy for Shiny Cooking, 2010. | Permalink | 9 comments | Add to del.icio.us
Post tags: balsamic vinegar, cilantro, lentils, onions, rhubarb, sweet peppers

Hello, my pretties. We’ll be quick today in honor of tax season. I have a zillion e-mail records to go through (the bane of online work) and missing 1099s to calculate by hand. My tax preparer, who also happens to be my best friend from grade school, is in 90 degree-plus Virginia this week, so I really can’t say which of us has it worse.

This red wine tomato sauce recipe can be subbed for a jar of any red store-bought pasta sauce. I like to double or triple the recipe and freeze it because hey, if I’m going to the work of making my own sauce, I may as well have some for next time.

But is it really work? Chop an onion, press a few cloves of garlic, open a can of tomatoes, and do some measuring. Twenty minutes on the stove, and it’s done.

There’s a secret to this tomato sauce. Your omnivore friends will think it has meat in it. The trick is fennel. An earthy, tangy spice used to flavor sausage, fennel is the spice that makes us think “meat.”

What do I like to do with this versatile tomato sauce?

• use it in lasagna
• top pasta with it and sprinkle with Parmesan (obvious)
• use it in baked penne (recipe coming, ooh)
• add mushrooms to it
• add soy burger crumbles to it
• add chopped red or green pepper to it
• add soy sausage crumbles to it

I-can’t-believe-it’s-meatless tomato sauce will happily take anything you wish to add to it. Go make it if you have a chance. I have Paypal receipts to sort through.

i-can’t-believe-it’s-meatless tomato sauce

The recipe calls for a large can of whole tomatoes, briefly whirred in a blender. You could instead use a 28-ounce can of tomato puree (make sure it’s made from only tomatoes) or even diced or crushed tomatoes, according to your preference. The latter will be a chunkier sauce. Adapted from Moosewood Restaurant Low-Fat Favorites: Flavorful Recipes for Healthful Meals.

Time: 45 minutes
Special equipment: blender (optional)

1 tablespoon olive oil (not EVOO)
1 cup finely chopped onion (1 medium onion)
¼ teaspoon salt
2 cloves garlic, minced or pressed
2 teaspoons ground fennel
2 teaspoons Milford’s Buon Appetito Italian seasoning* or 1 teaspoon each dried oregano and dried basil
⅓ cup red wine
3 cups undrained canned tomatoes (28-ounce can)
½ to 1 tablespoon sugar
salt and pepper to taste

In a large saucepan, heat the olive oil on medium heat. Add the onions, sprinkle with salt, and sauté until soft, about 4 to 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.

While the onions are cooking, whirl the tomatoes in a blender until just puréed and set aside.

When onions are soft, add the garlic and cook for 30 seconds.

Add the fennel, oregano and basil* and cook for another minute to coat the onions and garlic in the spices.

Pour in the red wine and bring to a boil. This will happen quickly, so have the puréed tomatoes handy, or have your canned purée, diced, or crushed tomatoes open and ready. Add tomatoes and sugar to the pan and mix well.

Cover and simmer gently for 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. Taste and season with salt and pepper to your preference.

* Just want to let you know that Milford Spice, a Michigan company, sent me a free sample of this seasoning. I also happen to dig it a lot.
** If using fresh herbs, use 1 tablespoon each of fresh oregano and basil and add them in the last couple minutes of cooking time.

© Amy for Shiny Cooking, 2010. | Permalink | 3 comments | Add to del.icio.us
Post tags: basil, fennel, tomato

This March was in like a lion, out like a lamb, just as it’s supposed to be, right and good. It’s a slow-brewing Easter revelation: for the past several days, we’ve had our eye on the forecast and those double digits creeping up from 40s to 50s to 70s. We’ve been talking about the weather forecast in awed, hushed tones: it’s going to be 75°F by Thursday! Maybe 80°F on Friday!

We so want to be true believers in meteorology, just this once. We’re ready, after months of snow and ice and wind and mud, to prostrate ourselves at the altar of the Mighty Blue Screen of Meteorological Prophecy.

And today, we are believers. It’s 56°F right now. We see whispers on Facebook: our Chicago friends wax poetic in their status updates about their glorious weather, and we close our eyes and smile, knowing that what’s in Chicago today will be here tomorrow.

in the hippie spirit

And since I’m in this warm hippie spirit, I’ll offer up a foodstuff so linked to hippes that it became an adjective all its own. I’m not too granola myself, but having gone to school in Ann Arbor, I’ve mingled with the granola crowd.

And let me tell you, they’re on to something. This maple granola, from King Arthur Flour Whole Grain Baking: Delicious Recipes Using Nutritious Whole Grains, is precisely what I’ve missed in every granola I’ve had until this point: fresh, balanced, and just crunchy enough. It doesn’t make large clusters of granola; rather, maple granola is more suited for the cereal bowl. I can’t tell you quite how it is as cereal though, because it became my habit to put a bit into a custard cup and spoon it, dry.

I was really happy with this maple granola and hey, it’s low-maintenance: stir it all together, a couple hours in the oven with 2 stirs, then store in an airtight container forever. Yay!

maple granola

I made half this recipe for 8 cups. Remember, granola is infinitely customizable. Substitute your own favorite nuts and dried fruit. Go crazy. You have my permission. Speaking of permission, this recipe is reprinted from King Arthur Flour Whole Grain Baking: Delicious Recipes Using Nutritious Whole Grains…with permission!

Yield: 16 cups
Oven: 250°F
Total time: 2½ hours

7 cups (24½ ounces) old-fashioned rolled oats

1 cup (3 ounces) flaked coconut

1 cup (4 ounces) wheat germ

1 cup (5 ounces) almonds, sliced or broken up

1 cup (3¾ ounces) pecans or walnuts, chopped or broken up
1 cup (5 ounces) sunflower seeds, raw or toasted

½ teaspoon salt

1 cup (11 ounces) maple syrup

¾ cup (5¼ ounces) vegetable oil

1 tablespoon vanilla extract
1 cup (5¼ ounces) golden raisins
1 cup (4 ounces) dried cranberries

1 cup (4½ ounces) chopped dried apricots




Preheat the oven to 250°F. Combine the oats, coconut, wheat germ, nuts, seeds and salt in a very large bowl. Mix well. In a separate bowl, whisk together the maple syrup, oil and vanilla. Pour the syrup mixture over the dry mixture, stirring and tossing till everything is very well combined; its probably easiest to do this with your hands.



Spread the granola over 2 large baking sheets with rims. Your cleanup will be much easier if you line them with parchment paper.



Bake for 2 hours, stirring the mixture after 1 hour or so. Remove the pans from the oven and let cool completely. Transfer the granola to a large bowl and mix in the dried fruit.



Store in an airtight container at room temperature.



© Amy for Shiny Cooking, 2010. | Permalink | One comment | Add to del.icio.us
Post tags: almonds, coconut, dried apricots, dried cranberries, maple syrup, oats, pecans, raisins, sunflower seeds, walnuts, wheat germ

Some of you have been expressing…concern…as to what happened with the whole big levain/sourdough plot. I’ll tell you what happened. A winter storm happened. Unripe levain happened. Flat bread happened. And a possibly unconnected but mysteriously coincidental horrible sinus flareup happened.

By day 4, I had a feeling the levain was ripe and active. Compare the above pic to day 3 and see how much the yeast activity made the levain rise in 12 hours. So I put it back into its normal container and fed it again that evening and planned to bake whole wheat sourdough the next day.

When I checked it in the morning, I frowned. It had been near the north window in the kitchen, and a winter storm had blown in overnight, winds howling from the north. The area where the levain had been sitting was extremely chilly. Worse, the leavain didn’t look active. It wasn’t bubbly or beginning to exude the brownish liquid that it does when active. It had been too cold, there by the window.

f*** it, we’ll do it live!

But like a dumbass I pushed those worries aside. Making sourdough would take a six-hour block of time, and I had scheduled my day specifically to allow for that. I’d make whole wheat sourdough bread come hell or high water, dammit!

Of course, my inflexibility was my downfall. The bread rose sluggishly, my clumsy attempts at brotform substitutes seemed inferior, and the two loaves baked into delicious-smelling, heavy discs of whole wheat sourdough.

With trepidation, I gingerly sliced a sliver of bread from one end once it had cooled. The taste? Wonderful. It was mellow and not outrageously sour; just a hint, the barest hint, of tang. So what if it was fairly leaden? I could still eat this stuff.

And eat it I did, and took it to Mom and Dad’s that night to have with tomato soup. Dad liked it and ate a ton (it probably felt like a ton, too) and so did I.

has your face ever tried to explode away from your head?

The next day I woke up, and wanted to sever the left side of my head from my body. Everything hurt: my jaw, my cheek, my ear, around my eyeball, even my left temple. Everything on the left side of my head was in excruciating pain. Ibuprofen didn’t touch it. The pain knocked me entirely out of commission. It was bizarre and horrible and I’d highly recommend it as a torture technique.

I self-diagnosed a flareup of a sinus infection I thought I’d kicked last fall. Only this time, for some reason, every sinus on the left side of my head was affected and pissed. Off. The next day the pain had subsided a bit, and the day after that it was pretty much gone. It hasn’t come back.

I don’t want it to come back. I’m worried that something about the wild yeast in the sourdough affected my sinuses and made them try to kill me. I don’t want my sinuses to kill me. I want to try this sourdough still. But now I’m afraid to.

So for now, the big sourdough plan is on hold. I am keeping the whole wheat levain alive in the fridge, feeding it weekly. Maybe once I forget how my sinuses felt, and how they took up arms and tried to kill me, I might try baking with it again.

whole wheat levain, refrigerator maintenance

Once you’ve developed an active whole wheat levain, you don’t need to feed it twice daily unless you’re baking with it regularly. This starter can be stored in the refrigerator and fed once weekly to keep it alive. Adapted with permission from King Arthur Flour Whole Grain Baking: Delicious Recipes Using Nutritious Whole Grains.

Once a week, remove levain from the refrigerator and discard all but 2 ounces. Add:

4 ounces whole wheat flour
4 ounces cool water

Mix well. Let it sit at room temperature at least a few hours before putting the levain back into the refrigerator.

Two to three days before you plan to bake with the levain, remove it from the refrigerator, keep it at room temperature, and resume twice-daily feedings.

© Amy for Shiny Cooking, 2010. | Permalink | Leave a comment | Add to del.icio.us
Post tags: whole wheat flour

This is the time of year when we write posts about how tired we are of winter. But I’m not. I’m totally over being tired of winter. I already gave in a few weeks ago to the allure of fresh produce, abandoning the frozen corn, green beans, and zucchini in favor of bean sprouts, cucumbers, and oh my lord grape tomatoes as big as your thumb.

There’s still part of a cabbage in the fridge — my cabbages grow to gigantic proportions, I don’t know why — but the last of fall’s carrots was gone over a month ago and yes, I tired of the old. I wanted the crunch of nutrients I hadn’t had fresh in months.

I abandoned locavore eating. Just until spring, and just once in a while. There’s something about fresh sprouts. They’re a promise. They’re potentiality. They could have become beans, but instead they’re going into my tummy. They’re earthy and new and taste of beginnings.

And this salad. Oh, this salad is all about the decadence, the utter wrongness, so wrong it’s right, of eating things that have been trucked two thousand miles. This is what perked me up, got me looking forward to the herb seeds I planted today, made me impervious to the clutch of the muddy clay that is my yard as I glop through it in winter boots, leaving wet dinosaur footprints that would fossilize when the ground dries, if I weren’t going to seed it with grass this spring.

We’ll be eating local again soon, very soon. And even now, I still take down a jar of pasta sauce made from my tomatoes and onions for supper, and pull 2008 applesauce from the freezer, still tree-fresh. But along with preserved homegrown every few days or so something like this salad pops into my mind, and demands attention.

I think it’s the cucumber seeds up on the shelf, whispering to me that they’re ready, almost ready. Ready to grow.

yes, peanut dressing is the bomb

Indonesian tofu, bean sprout, and cucumber salad with spicy peanut dressing, from Jeanne Lemlin’s Vegetarian Classics, takes simple ingredients and elevates them with this peanut dressing.

It’s to die for. Take tofu roasted in sesame oil and soy sauce, bean sprouts, cucumber, and green onion. Nice ingredients, but who cares?

Peanut dressing cares, that’s who. It’s just got all good stuff in it: peanut butter, soy sauce, brown sugar, lime juice, you know the drill. I’m sure you could find other uses for it beyond just this salad. A regular green salad, for example, or in a quinoa salad. Some kind of cold fried rice?

In any case, if you still suffer the winter blahs, consider breaking the locavore commitment for just a few meals, gather up some sprouts and cucumber, and try this salad.

indonesian tofu, bean sprout, and cucumber salad with spicy peanut dressing

Adapted from Vegetarian Classics by Jeanne Lemlin

servings: 4 as a side salad or very light meal; 2 as a meal

peanut dressing:

¼ cup natural-style peanut butter

2 tablespoons tamari soy sauce
 (choose a brand without wheat for going gluten-free)
1 tablespoon lime or lemon juice

2 tablespoons firmly packed brown sugar
1 garlic clove, minced
¼ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes

3 tablespoons water

salad:

1 recipe roasted tofu (recipe here)
2 cups mung bean sprouts

1 small English cucumber, sliced 1/4 inch thick

1 green onion, very thinly sliced, tops only

To make the spicy peanut dressing, combine all the dressing ingredients in a small bowl and beat vigorously with a fork or small whisk until very smooth.

To assemble the salad, spread 1/4 of the bean sprouts on each of 4 salald plates. Layer on 1/4 of the cucumber, followed by 1/4 of the tofu. Drizzle the dressing over each portion and garnish with sliced green onion.

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Post tags: bean sprouts, cucumber, green onion, peanut butter, tofu

How about a nice tall glass of levain?

Today is Day 3, when we begin feeding the levain twice a day versus the once per day of days 1 and 2. That pic is at 3.5. I’ve put the levain into a tall, clear glass and marked it. In 12 hours we’ll see how much the yeast activity has made it expand.

Notice all those bubbles, made by that friendly wild yeast I’ve attracted. The catnip is this simple flour-and-water combination, at room temperature. The levain is sticky, and stretches when I stir it before discarding/feeding.

Its developed a slightly fruity, tangy smell, yet still with that sweet and fresh smell to it. I tasted a bit of the levain and yes, there was a hint of sour to it. Fingers crossed — it seems to be coming along nicely. Let’s hope I don’t eff it up somehow.

whole wheat levain: Day 3 (and 4 and 5)

Adapted with permission from King Arthur Flour Whole Grain Baking: Delicious Recipes Using Nutritious Whole Grains. For days 3, 4, and 5, we go to twice-a-day feedings. Those wild yeast are hungry buggers! Space feedings as close to 12 hours apart as possible. By the fifth day the levain should be ready to use in a sourdough recipe.

4 ounces (1 to 1⅛ cups) whole wheat flour
4 ounces (½ cup) cool nonchlorinated water

Now we move to twice-a-day feedings. Do this as close to every 12 hours as possible.

Discard all but 4 ounces of the levain. Add the whole wheat flour and water. Mix well, cover, and let sit at room temperature (65° to 75°F) for 24 hours.

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Post tags: whole wheat flour

This is your brain on SmokeMonster!Locke.

Okay, it’s just the whole wheat levain before stirring it up on Day 2. You know what that liquid is on top? Sourdough breadmakers have a highly technical term for it. They call it hooch, because it’s about 15-20 proof. It’s a result of the fermentation process of the yeast. That would be the wild yeast that I set out this lovely catnip of flour and water to attract. There’s nothing wrong with hooch, so go ahead and mix it back in.

You can tell from the hooch that something’s going on now, but there isn’t a lot of bubbling or expansion going on yet. The levain has a comforting, sweet and fresh flour smell. No tang or fruitiness to it yet. By day 3 it’s supposed to gain a bit of a fresh fruit smell.

I’m going to begin posting pics of the levain’s bubbliness, too, since just seeing it after sitting for 24h doesn’t tell the whole story.

In 3 days (Day 5) this should be ready to bake with.

whole wheat levain: Day 2

Adapted with permission from King Arthur Flour Whole Grain Baking: Delicious Recipes Using Nutritious Whole Grains. Day 2 is simple. Just discard half the levain, and mix in the following.

4 ounces (1 to 1⅛ cups) whole wheat flour
4 ounces (½ cup) cool nonchlorinated water

Mix well, cover, and let sit at room temperature (65° to 75°F) for 24 hours.

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Post tags: whole wheat flour

Sis told me yesterday she began the starter for Amish friendship bread, which apparently involves mixing flour, sugar, and yeast and letting it sit on the counter. After it develops for several days, you can make sourdough bread from part of the starter, keep the rest of it going, and continue making bread.

I’ve always been a bit meh on the whole sourdough concept. It’s been a rare occasion when I’ve really dug a sourdough bread, but on the times I have, I’ve really, really dug it. The King Arthur Flour Whole Grain Baking cookbook has a whole chapter devoted to whole grain sourdoughs. I’d avoided it because the whole process seemed so wasteful (I’ll explain why shortly). However, a few months back I bought a different brand of whole wheat flour that was such a coarse grind that I found it incredibly difficult to bake with. I stuck it in the freezer, labeled it “coarse ww flour,” and forgot about it, figuring some use would arise for it sometime.

That time is now. Seems sourdough starters work by capturing wild yeast (yeast floating around in the air) using a mixture called a levain. Whole flour levains are easier to work with than white flour levains because there is more wild yeast present in the flour itself. At the same time, they’re more difficult to work with because the flour will spoil much more quickly at room temperature, which necessitates twice-a-day feedings once the levain is mature (after a couple days). That’s where the wastefulness. I imagine you’d want to be baking with this levain at least a few times a week to make it worthwhile, because you’re throwing away 8 ounces (2 cups) worth of flour every. Single. Day.

What better use for the 4-odd pounds of coarse-grind flour I have sitting in the freezer?

What you see above is Day 1 of my whole wheat levain, immediately after mixing it up. Not very exciting. But I’ll be documenting its development. After 5 days it should be ready to work with.

Here’s how it begins, if you want to play along. We’ll be baking sourdough bread with this within a week.

whole wheat levain: day 1

Reprinted with permission from King Arthur Flour Whole Grain Baking: Delicious Recipes Using Nutritious Whole Grains.

4 ounces (1 to 1⅛ cups) whole wheat flour
4 ounces (½ cup) cool nonchlorinated water

Combine the flour and water in a nonreactive container. Glass, crockery, stainless steel, or food-grade plastic all work fine for this. Cover the container and let the mixture sit at room temperature (65° to 75°F) for 24 hours.

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Post tags: whole wheat flour