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- Matthew, on July 15th, 2010 
Love your ginger? You’ll need a lot of it–that’s 2 1/2 lbs. pictured above, to make this uber-strong ginger beer. I found it necessary to have plenty of soda water and ice on hand, and I especially liked it with a shot or two of Canadian whiskey added . . . perfect for the hot weather that’s finally arrived here in Seattle.
I’m traditionally not much of soda drinker. I only buy two kinds. My apartment is impossible to cool down even with all the fans going, so I always have a case of Fresca on hand (fun fact: Lyndon B. Johnson, 36th President of the U.S., loved Fresca so much he had a button installed on the desk in the Oval Office which would summon his military aide to bring him the drink), and the occasional 4-bottle case of Reed’s Ginger Brew, a spicy, honeyish gingerbready soda I love, even though it’s a bit pricey. Home-brewing ginger beer was made popular by the British in the mid 1700s, and so I figured if the Brits can do it, then so can I. After nearly killing my blender to make this, the potent result is such that if I make it again, I’ll have a party in the works to share it around, since it doesn’t work for me as a daily soft drink…well, and like I mentioned, I’m not much of a soda drinker. But I do love ginger, and if you do, too . . . then you’ll find this delicious. Let the cocktail hour begin!
Jamaican Ginger Beer (from jam it, pickle it, cure it by Karen Solomon)
- 2 1/2 pounds fresh ginger, roughly peeled
- 4 cups water, divided
- 1 cup freshly squeezed lime juice (from 8 to 10 limes)
- 2 1/2 to 3 cups of sugar
In a blender or food processor, liquefy the ginger and 2 cups of the water for 3 minutes, then strain the juice into a large bowl or pitcher. Transfer the ginger pulp back to to the blender or food processor, add another cup of the water, and liquefy again. Strain again, adding the liquid to the first batch. Again transfer the pulp along with another cup of water, liquefy again, and add to the liquid. Press on the solids as much as possible to squeeze out as much of the juice as you can.
Once the ginger has given up all that it’s got, discard the mashed solids. Add the lime juice and 2 1/2 cups of the sugar. Mix well and taste. Add more sugar, a little at a time, until it reaches your preferred sweetness.
Refrigerate up to 3 weeks. Shake before serving.
Makes about 8 cups.
p.s. Happy Anniversary, Cookrookery!
A year ago, Chris, Daniel, and I embarked on our separate culinary journeys and brought them together here. While our predilections and processes may differ, I’d say our appetites and passion for food complement each others’ well. I hope all of you, our loyal readers, have picked up some memorable flavors along the way. I raise my glass of ginger beer in toast to another year of great taste! -Matt
- Matthew, on June 20th, 2010 
I was having dinner at a brewery with my girlfriend Kristin last summer and noted they served beer ice cream floats. I remember trying to imagine the bitter draught complementing the sweet cream and couldn’t quite make it there, so when I found Guinness-Milk Chocolate Ice Cream in Lebovitz’s The Perfect Scoop this summer, I knew now was the time to give it a try.
The result is a hearty if not unusual chocolate ice cream. A good conversation piece of a dessert. There’s not enough alcohol in it to get you tipsy, but it may be a segue into a further indulgence of beer or chocolate. But my brevity here should imply that my palate remains skeptical that beyond novelty, this flavor may not have a mass American appeal. Americans certainly like their beer and their chocolate . . . but will they ever love them together? It worked for salt and caramel. Perhaps beer and chocolate will be the next mass craze. If so, you heard it here first!
Guinness-Milk Chocolate Ice Cream
7 oz. milk chocolate, finely chopped
1 c. whole milk
1/2 c. sugar
pinch of salt
4 large egg yolks
1 c. heavy cream
3/4 c. Guinness Stout
1 t. vanilla
Put chocolate pieces in large bowl and set a mesh strainer over the top.
Warm milk, sugar and salt in a saucepan. In a separate bowl, whisk the egg yolks. Slowly pour the warm mixture over the yolks, whisking constantly, then pour the entire mixture back into the saucepan.
Stir mixture constantly with a heatproof spatula, scraping the bottom as you stir, until mixture thickens and coats spatula. Pour custard through the strainer over the chocolate, then stir until melted. Once smooth, whisk in the cream, then the Guinness and vanilla. Stir until cool over an ice bath.
Chill thoroughly in refrigerator, then freeze in your ice cream maker.
- Matthew, on May 31st, 2010 
I assume many people immediately think of guacamole when avocados are mentioned, but for me they’re in that pantheon of fruit that is so perfectly ready-to-eat that I can’t stand the thought of mashing it up into a chip dip. I read that in native Central America it’s sometimes referred to as a “butter pear,” and I think that describes it perfectly. You slice in past the first resistance of the skin into flesh as soft as butter until you hit the stone, circle around, and open. Inside is a seed with enough heft and smoothness as to seem like a wooden pearl that should be saved rather than discarded. Pick it out anyway, grab a spoon and gobble up the goodness. Yum!
So even I was a little skeptical when I came upon a recipe for Avocado Ice Cream in my recent purchase of David Lebovitz’s The Perfect Scoop, a veritable bible for the ice cream and sorbet lover. I was worried that the addition of cream and sugar would dilute the avocado’s already mild flavor, but I was intrigued, and made this the first recipe I’d try.
And you know what? It’s unlike anything I’ve tasted before, and I’ll bet you’ll agree. First, a hint of fresh earthy green segues into sweet, then both come together as the richness of the fat content in the fruit and cream blend it all together. The pure flavor of avocado and salt is the finishing note. It doesn’t invite big bowl portions; in fact, a heaping spoon is satisfying for me, which is saying something for someone who loves ice cream as much as I… Although I’m intrigued by Lebovitz’s suggestion of taking this flavor into the realm of milkshake. I know I’ll make this again and pair it with a ripe berry sorbet, I think, for the contrast of flavor and texture.
Another thing I like about this recipe is that unlike most ice creams which require you to refrigerate your base for a period of time before freezing in your ice cream maker, in this case you need only mix up your ingredients and freeze.
Avocado Ice Cream
3 medium-sized ripe Hass avocados
3/4 c. sugar
1 c. sour cream
1/2 c. heavy cream
1 T. freshly squeezed lime juice
Big pinch of salt
Slice avocados in half and pluck out the pits. Scoop out the flesh with a spoon and cut into pieces. Puree in a blender with the rest of the ingredients until smooth and sugar is dissolved. Freeze in your ice cream maker immediately.
Stay tuned for more fascinating flavors…
- Matthew, on April 7th, 2010 
I’ll admit I have no particular reason for making caramel corn, and I wouldn’t even say I’m a fan, but I am a fan of Orangette, and since reading Molly’s heartfelt and desperate ranting plea to make caramel corn, including the revelation, “It was eerily light, crisp and snappy, sweet-salty, insane,” I decided this would be my first recipe to try from her blog, which is actually adapted from the cookbook DamGoodSweet.
Oh, what a delicious amen! I must shout out to Molly, for I could become a serious caramel corn addict after initiating my sweet tooth to this primo confection (I admit I’ve already stocked up on popcorn and salted peanuts since the first batch is mysteriously, um…gone). You pop your corn and cook your caramel on the stove top, mix it all together with chopped salted peanuts, and bake it all for an hour, allowing the caramel to soften and become better intermingled, and transforming the popcorn itself from a crunchy snack into a crisp decadence.
When I was talking to my mom on the phone over Easter, she reminded me of her extreme caramel corn lust, but expressed scorn for the corn being mixed with peanuts. I understood her mistrust, having also been subjected to those bitter red-skinned goobers nestled in Cracker Jack. In this recipe, however, the salt on the skinless peanuts is a vital and necessary component, and when it’s all baking in the oven, your kitchen fills with a scent of hot peanut butter . . . oh, it’s yummy.
But don’t be dismayed if nuttiness isn’t your thing. This recipe is not about the nuts…you’re definitely getting caramel corn here. The peanuts are very much an accent in the background (until you get to the caramelized bits at the bottom of the bowl!) The only caveat is that you must have a candy thermometer to make this. But you already have one, don’t you?
This makes a great gift . . . for yourself. Indulge often.
Caramel Corn with Salted Peanuts
1 (3½-oz) pkg natural flavor microwave popcorn, or however much you need to pop for 10 cups, lightly salted
1 c. packed light brown sugar
¼ c. light corn syrup
6 T. unsalted butter, melted
¼ t. salt
2 T. water
½ t. baking soda
2 t. vanilla extract
1 c. lightly salted peanuts, roughly chopped
Preheat oven to 250°. Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper.
Pop the popcorn and dump into a large bowl (I used my wok, which was perfect), taking care to pick out and discard any unpopped kernels. Chop your peanuts and measure out your vanilla and soda, since you won’t have time to do it once you begin making the caramel.
In a medium saucepan, whisk together the brown sugar, corn syrup, butter, salt, and water. Bring to a simmer over medium-high heat. Continue to simmer, whisking often, until the mixture reads 250°F on a candy thermometer, about 3 to 4 minutes.
Immediately remove the pan from the heat, and whisk in the baking soda and vanilla. . . the mixture will suds up and become a creamy, excited caramel. Quickly pour the hot caramel over the popcorn. Use a rubber spatula to gently fold the caramel into the popcorn, taking care to distribute it as evenly as you can.
 Dear God, have you ever seen anything so beautiful? Stir in the peanuts, and transfer the mixture to the prepared baking sheet. Bake for 1 hour, stirring and turning the popcorn with a spatula every 20 minutes. Remove from the oven, and cool for 20 minutes. Gently break up the popcorn, serve, and store in an airtight container.
- Matthew, on March 5th, 2010 I’d never have believed it if I hadn’t tried them myself, but a cookie without butter? Sounds like a sin, like a “diet” cookie that couldn’t possibly satisfy, but after seeing the recipe on Heidi Swanson’s 101 Cookbooks, I had to give them a try, just because I love recipes with weird omissions. And you know what? They turned out to be one of those rare recipes that delighted everyone who tried one. The texture was just as Heidi described, a brownie-chew of a center with the delicate crispness of a hard meringue on the outside. And since I love walnuts, the toasted nuttiness made these cookies extra special. You can play with how much you toast the nuts based on your preference, and a milder toasting imparts more of a sensation of chocolate chips…an acceptable compromise. What I also like is that the recipe creates a batter rather than a dough, resulting in a natural spread-out for awesome-sized cookie satisfaction.
Chocolate Puddle Cookies
3 c. walnut halves, toasted & cooled
4 c. (or 1 box) of powdered sugar
1/2 c. plus 3 T. unsweetened cocoa powder
scant 1/2 t. fine grain sea salt
4 large egg whites, room temp
1 T. vanilla
Preheat oven to 320F and position racks in the top and bottom third. Line three (preferably rimmed) baking sheets with parchment paper. After your walnuts have cooled, chop them coarsely and set aside. Sift together the sugar, cocoa, and salt. Stir in the walnuts, then add the egg whites and vanilla. Stir until well combined.
Spoon the batter onto the prepared sheets in mounds of about 2 tablespoons each, allowing for PLENTY of room between cookies. Don’t try to get more than 6 cookies on each sheet, and avoid placing the batter too close to the edge of the pan.
Bake until they puff up. The tops should get glossy, and then crack a bit – about 12 -15 min. You may want to rotate the pans top/bottom/back/front.
Slide the cookies still on parchment onto a cooling rack, and let them cool completely. They will keep in an airtight for a couple days… if they last that long.
Makes 18 large cookies.
- Matthew, on January 18th, 2010 Having a surplus of apples in my kitchen, I decided the first recipe out of my new Maida Heatter cookbook would figure them in as a primary ingredient, so the Apple Kuchen was a natural choice. Kuchen (pronounced koo-kən; think “kooky”) is the German word for “cake,” and there are many variations on it, even some with more pie-like properties. I’m a firm believer in coffee cake, and this is a delectable dessert or breakfast that’s made for coffee or tea, an old world comfort food that’s best eaten the day it’s made. And don’t be swayed by the number of ingredients and steps…it’s really quite simple to make.
Maida Heatter’s Apple Kuchen (8-10 portions)
Cake
1/3 c. currants (or raisins)
1 1/4 c. sifted flour
1 1/2 t. baking powder
1/2 t. salt
1/4 c. sugar
1/4 c. butter
1 egg
1/4 c. milk
1 t. vanilla
3/4 c. chopped walnuts
Preheat oven to 400 and butter and 9 x 13 pan.
Place the currants or raisins in a small strainer over a saucepan of shallow boiling water. Cover and let steam for 3-5 min. Remove from heat and set aside.
Sift together flour, baking powder, and salt. Cut in butter until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs.
In a small bowl, stir the egg just to mix and stir in the milk. Add the egg, milk, and vanilla to the flour mixture, stirring with a fork just until the dry ingredients are thoroughly moistened.
Spread the batter evenly in the prepared pan–it will be a thin layer. Sprinkle with the currants and nuts and set aside.
Filling
4 medium-large apples (MH suggests Rome Beauties or Delicious. I used Granny Smith.)
1/4 c. butter
1/4 c. sugar
1 1/2 t. cinnamon
Peel, quarter, and core apples. Cut each quarter into about 6 very thin wedges. Place them, overlapping, in three rows down the length of the cake. If there is space in-between rows, fill with additional apples.
Melt the butter and brush over the apples. Mix sugar and cinnamon, and sprinkle over the butter. Cover loosely with a cookie sheet or aluminum foil.
Bake for 35 minutes, removing cookie sheet or foil for the last 5 minutes. Prepare glaze.
Glaze
1/2 c. apricot preserves
2 T. sugar
In a small saucepan over moderate heat, stir together preserves and sugar and bring to a boil, stirring constantly. Boil, stirring, for 3 minutes. Immediately brush over apples. Serve while warm or room temp.
From Maida Heatter’s Book of Great Desserts, published 1965.
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I made this kuchen for a road trip to Conway, a little town just south of Mt. Vernon, about an hour north of Seattle. I rode up with Liv, Kim, and Mary, and we stopped at Pam’s place before heading up to Bellingham’s Whatcom Art Museum, which was showcasing a favorite artist of ours, John Grade. Click on the first link to read about his lastest installation work, The Elephant Bed. Even if you can’t go see it, the concept is quite mind-bending. If you can go see it, do.
 Enjoying kuchen with lovely Pam After viewing the excellent exhibits, we headed back to Conway. All of us met a couple years ago in an art class, and we’ve been friends and mentors for each other ever since. Pam made Jasmine tea and we cut into the kuchen, and for a moment time was still within a moment shared, telling stories, giving advice, smacking our lips on the cake*…great friends and artists looking ahead to a new decade, and I, pleased that my first excursion with the great Maida Heatter, was a delicious success.
 Great friends: Mary, Kim, Liv *with apologies to Kim, for having to abstain from the kuchen, because of my forgetting that ol’ nut allergy. I’m always embarrassed when I forget such things, so in the interest of resolutions for a new decade, I aspire to be a more conscious preparer.
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