Cranberry-Citrus Biscotti with Toasted Almonds

The net result of it was that I had only two eggs left, and only small amounts of other ingredients and I still wanted to bake. So I started throwing these together, for what purpose I’m not really sure originally. As it was all coming together I realized that I was probably making biscotti. A quick series of notes on a post-it later and I had a skeleton of ideas that birthed the last of this recipe into what you see here.

Ingredients

• 2 cups self-rising flour (see notes)
• 1/2 cup oats (not quick-cooking)
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 2 eggs
• 3 tablespoons vegetable oil
• 1/2 cup citrus juice (see notes)
• 3 tablespoons citrus zest (I used Mandarin orange)
• 1/4-1/2 teaspoon almond extract
• 1 cup dried cranberries
• 1 cup unsalted, toasted almonds, chopped fine

Instructions

1. Preheat your oven to 300F.
2. Combine the flour, oats, sugar and salt in a bowl, and whisk thoroughly to combine. Set this aside.
3. Combine the eggs, oil, juice, zest, and extract in another bowl and stir well to combine.
4. Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients and mix only until just combined to avoid making the dough tough.
5. Fold in the nuts and cranberries until just combined.
6. If the dough is too sticky to handle right away, place it covered lightly in the fridge to cool for about 30 minutes (up to as long as 24 hours if you want to make this ahead of time).
7. Line a cooking sheet with parchment and turn out the dough onto it.
8. Pat the dough to into a circle about 1 to 1-1/2-inch thick.
9. Bake for 30 minutes or until the edges are golden.
10. Remove the pan from the oven and set it somewhere safe to cool briefly.
11. Turn down the oven temperature to 275F.
12. When the dough round isn’t uncomfortable to touch with your bare hands, take a long, serrated knife and cut the entire thing in half down the middle. Then cut each half into slices about 3/4 inch thick.
13. Place the slices back on the baking sheet on their sides to expose the inside of the dough.
14. Bake at 275F for another 30 minutes, then remove them to a rack to cool completely (they’ll harden as they cool).

Notes

Sometimes when you're slicing, little chunks just fall off. Honest.

I’m not normally one to use self-rising flour. Actually, we keep in the house for the rare times my husband feels compelled to bake on his own (read: safe in the kitchen with me nowhere nearby). After the aforementioned rotten egg incidents, I was completely without flour except for the self-rising variety, so I thought, what the heck. Turns out, it worked really well, giving the texture of the biscotti a lightness I enjoyed a great deal.

The citrus juice I used was a combination of many different kinds. We had some citrus fruits in danger of withering on our table and my husband asked for a citrus mimosa that evening (I argued that mimosas were a breakfast or brunch drink and he said I lacked his imagination and hobbit tendencies, something I find greatly amusing since he’s 6’5″ tall). Well after he got his mimosa, there was still 1/2 cup of juice left and the dough needed some moisture, so in it went. To cap it off and spike the layers of flavor just a little more, I added the last of the mandarin orange zest that had been sitting in my freezer. Fantastic addition.

When you cut these, I recommend using the longest serrated knife you have. I couldn’t find mine, so the slices look quite ragged due to having to cut through chunks of nuts and dried fruit with a chef’s knife. Trimmed up they could look quite pretty, but I suspect The Big Guy will think they taste just as good.

Possibilities

I bought the painting immediately after the holidays, reasoning that if I’d thought about it that long and actually had the money to buy it, then maybe there was something there I needed to explore. The painting itself is not a shining example in the art world. It’s raw in places. But that’s much like me and my life. This says to me “Be happy. Create. Make mistakes. Laugh. Enjoy.” That’s my plan for the new year.

Happy Holidays, everyone.

Braised Shortbribs with Butternut Squash in a Tagine

I borrowed a tagine from my wonderful chiropractor, Dr. Christophe Dean, at Dean Chiropractic in Berkley, MI. It may take a little getting used to using it though.

Red Pepper Gnocchi

All the ingredients were purchased at the Royal Oak Michigan Farmer’s Market. The pottery bowl was purchased from Firehorse Pottery on Etsy.

When I die
I want none of my dishes to match.
I want a collage of Leopard Shino,
Pompeian Ash, and Copper Earth
to festoon my kitchen with abandon,
left in the last place I used it.
And when someone comes and says
“what shall we do with all of this”
I want each piece
to be held and stroked and touched
and then taken home
as I did when I first discovered it
calling my name
fresh from the potter’s hands.

Balsamic Glazed Pecans

Old standbys with new twists in the recipe world intrigue me. The problem I run into is that the changes people try frequently make the recipes pretentious, usually by unnecessarily complicating them or completely destroying their original character (for the record, the idea of a “deconstructed” dish still deeply offends me and I’m happy to say it to any professionally trained chef).

What I was aiming for with this recipe was a tasty coating on a nut that would keep from softening up in waldorf salad if it had to sit for a while on the Thanksgiving buffet table. This recipe worked admirably well for that purpose and, in fact, I had to make extra because Mr. Man loved them so much he snacked on them while I was putting the salad together. Simple, different, tasty real food.

Ingredients

• 2 cups raw, unsalted pecan halves
• 1/2 cup brown sugar
• 1/3 cup good quality balsamic vinegar
• 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
• 1 teaspoon smoked sea salt

Instructions

1. Preheat the oven to 350F.
2. Place the nuts in a dry, oven-proof pan and toast the nuts in the oven for 10-12 minutes, until they smell lightly toasted but are not browned or burned.
3. In a dry pan (preferably cast iron), place the brown sugar over medium heat and stir occasionally until it melts.
4. Add the nuts and vinegar all at once and continue to stir so that all the nuts are coated completely and pan is almost dry.
5. Sprinkle the pepper and salt over the nuts and toss them to coat them in the last of the remaining liquid.
6. Remove the pan from the heat and spread the nuts on a piece of parchment paper until they cool completely.
7. Separate any nuts that have stuck together.

Notes
It’s absolutely vital that the nuts cool completely before being placed in any container and sealed away. The excess heat from the nuts as they cool will cause moisture to collect inside any bag or container the nuts are placed in before they’re cold. You can hasten the process a bit by placing the parchment on a cookie sheet or sheet pan and setting them briefly in the fridge but they’re best cooled on the counter top naturally. You can store them for several weeks in an airtight container until you’re ready to use them or you can seal them carefully and freeze them for a couple of months if you’re waiting to use them as gifts for the holidays.

The first course of the Oct 1, 2011 Procrastinator's Feast, as it appeared on the table.

No shit there I was….As I arrived on site Saturday morning, my husband and I immediately got to work unloading food and supplies into the site’s kitchen. As counter space goes, it was plentiful. Beyond that, things got troublesome. There was an oven and a fridge but because of the questionable power throughout the building, they were unreliable at best. The kitchen existed on a single circuit (a fact that plagued us for the rest of the evening). The remainder of the building sketchily attached to others that blew fuses if you look at them cross-eyed. We were effectively left with a roof and walls as our assets. Oh, and running water. Let’s all just thank God for that one.

We began our organization and prep work as usual by grouping ingredients in one area, supplies in another, and reviewing the plan for the day. Once initial tasks were given to those people available, we set to work putting on a pot of boiling water, peeling cucumbers for the upcoming assembly of a lovely bread salad… you know, basic prep work. My first task was going to be figuring out the power situation to help us with the electric roasters in which we planned to reheat the spiced racks of ribs that I’d cooked the night before. Based on the warnings from the previous year’s staff and several others, I knew this could potentially break us and I wanted to be sure I addressed it head on. As I walked into the hall proper, I noticed a woman standing in the middle looking extremely puzzled, so I put on my brightest professional smile, stuck out my hand, and said “Hi, I’m Gaylin, the head cook. You can call me Iasmin. Can I help you find something?” Her response was the last thing I expected to hear:

“Are you the wedding caterer? I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

I suppose these words wouldn’t be surprising if you were actually the caterer for a wedding and could honestly answer yes, but

1. I was decidedly not a wedding caterer (I’m a technical writer by trade in case you’re wondering).
2. I was decidedly not *this* wedding’s caterer.

My first response was to take a huge breath and let it out. My second response was originally going to be assurances that we had the site under contract. I never uttered my second response. I couldn’t.

We immediately sent runners through the site to grab the staff but because we were in a 4-H campground of considerable size, this was not a fast process. After a bit of a go-round figuring out what happened (all before the site owners arrived on site to help sort out the mess), we finally figured out that the wedding party may have accidentally reserved the site for October 2nd, a Sunday, instead of October 1st, the Saturday of our event. By now the groom and members of the wedding families were beginning to arrive and I was told that the bride was on her way. You could see the defeat in their eyes and that they were all terrified of what was about to happen.

Most of them turned to me at about this point. I’m honestly not sure what my exact response was. My dear friend Rebekah was there and I know we looked at each other when we realized I ultimately had to make the call. She was ready to play bad cop for me if I spoke the words, but to be truthful, we both immeidately knew we couldn’t be the ones to ruin two families worth of memories. There was only one clear path:

We needed to give up the hall to the wedding reception.

The Feast Hall in Progress Outside

The First Course Being Staged for Serving Outside

The weather was not conducive to this. Not in the slightest. The temperature was cold. The sun was intermittent at best at that point. And the wind? Oi, the wind. But when it came right down to it, we at least were dressed in woolens, furs, cloaks, and official, albeit medieval, camping gear. The wedding party and attendees would be dressed in high heels. Suits and ties. Strapless cocktail and evening gowns. There’s no way they could have survived outside.

I’m not sure what people thought, but we didn’t have much time to think. I started issuing orders. My second in command answered his phone to hear me saying “Hey, funny story. The feast hall is double-booked…” We segwayed into plan B. Or maybe is was C or D at this point. The important point is that the show went on and aside from our feasters valiantly eating in the windy cold, we had so few visible problems to the outside world that most people probably didn’t even realize how horribly wrong things really could have gone. They didn’t see any of the power outages. They didn’t experience the oven failures. They didn’t see the roasters break down. They only saw the plastic wind blocks go up and a beehive of activity start up on the hill where the feast was held. Where the feast was held quite successfully, I might add. But it’s absolutely vital for everyone to know one simple thing:

All of this success, and I mean every single bit of it, could not have been accomplished without the coordinated efforts of every single person at that event, feasters and staff alike.

To Amy and Michael, bride and groom of the wedding reception: I hope someday you show your families the pictures of the event and remember fondly what happened instead of worrying about what might have been. It was meant to happen the way it happened. May you have so many more anniversaries that you can no longer count them.

The bride and groom, Amy and Michael, thanking the assembled feasters for giving up the feast hall for their wedding reception.

My dearest Majesties and Feast attendees: Thank you for sitting this feast without complaint and giving the bride and groom and their collective friends and family their day of joy while you ate a picnic in the cold wind. Your patience and acceptance of the changes and your agreement with my decision to move the feast out of doors eased my mind. Your willingness to help by volunteering information, ready hands, strong backs, and ideas were invaluable. To each one of you I offer my thanks for ensuring that this feast was not “that feast.” You know the one. The one where people talk about it behind your back and list it among the top worst meals you’ve ever had. Your compliments of the food and the servers were generous and genuine and I point them to my staff for they are the ones who truly deserve the praise.

To Duchess Rebekah MacTiernan: My friend, when we shared The Look and I knew you would step on the grenade for me, I couldn’t let it happen. Not to you and not to the bride and groom. We had to pull it off. Your presence kept me from swearing, kept me calm, and made me realize right away that I wasn’t alone and had more people than just those immediately present to make the crazy plan work. Thank you for being my silent voice of reason. I knew that you would help me make it happen if I couldn’t figure things out.

To Baron Odo and Sir Munenori, the first of my kitchen crew on site that day: Your immediate help with grunt work and prepwork ensured that we had constant motion in the kitchen. That you both willingly served as strong backs and staff once the feast was moved “onto the hill” meant much to me. The trips back and forth between the feast and the building couldn’t have been pleasant, especially give the rocky terrain. Your support of my second in command meant that I did not need to watch over everything. Thank you.

To Duches Arabella Silvermane: My friend, that you had the position of Server Whip thrust upon you unexpectedly shames me. I can only tell you that your ability to organize people into action continues to impress me every time I see it happen. You know instinctively what needs doing and you do it, without question, so that everyone can enjoy and be happy. Thank you.

Busy plating and serving happening behind the scenes.

To Maddie McRaie, Duke Ragnvaldr, Serjant Ian, Anne Flamard, THL Anabelle, Dearest Boofy, Marva “Heather’s Mom” and doubtless several others whose names I dont’ know, thankyou thankyou thankyou for taking over the serving duties when chaos reigned and we had no idea how this crazy plan was all going to work outside in the cold. Everyone got food in a timely fashion. No one went hungry. You were all the epitome of calm and joy. You’d be stunned at how many times that part of a feast goes to hell in a handbasket when servers aren’t on the ball. You guys executed it flawlessly under the worst possible circumstances. I am in awe of each of you.

To the young Alexis Tilton, Heather Bower, and Caitlyn Hogan: You three amaze me. You asked to serve feast but when I told you what I desperately needed (responsible people to be my personal assistants) not one of you panicked and said no. You all ran errands for me. You trudged countless times up that hill with heavy items. You brought water to everyone. You offered smiles to everyone. Frankly you did it all with more energy than any adult could muster. And, most importantly, you waited patiently in between all those things when I was working my way back around to give you your next tasks. You conducted yourselves at levels far above your age would show and I couldn’t be prouder to know that you have this feast in your bag of experiences. Thank you.

Personal Assistants to the Head Cook

To whomever set up the feast pavilion and saw to it that the tables and cloths and placemats and everything in general ended up perfectly, thank you thank you thank you. I know I sent several people up to check on this or to manage it and someone in that chaotic jumble you all got it done and with minimal confusions, especially with court having to happen in the same space immediately before hand. And to the two young men who I saw each one carrying tables over your head all the way across the campground from the cabin on the far side of the horse field, I don’t know who you were, but damn, sons. Just damn. You keep eating your wheaties.

And finally, to Serjant Renaude de Lunay, my second in command, my “brain,” and my apprentice: I have always admitted that I have little talent for plating feast dishes and I have relied on you to guide me in this. It’s been a good exchange. My research, your artfulness, our sharing and bouncing of ideas off of each other. But this feast was so different I can’t begin to describe it to people. Had I not been able to continue and were I to simply have handed you my notes and the Istanbul manuscript, this feast would have succeeded simply because you were there in my stead. In truth, you WERE there in my stead. Having to split ourselves up with you in command on the hill and me continuing the last of the cooking in the kitchen made the difference between the success of the feast and the travesty it could have been. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Ever in service,

Iasmin
Head Cook, Procrastinator’s Ball
October 1, 2011