Burnt Sugar Dumplings

Tonight I am making a recipe from The Encyclopedic Cookbook from the Culinary Arts Institute, published in 1949. The story behind this book is that it was the only cookbook that my maternal grandparents used. How is this possible, you ask? Well, the book is over 950 pages long--one hardly needs another! Of course, today these recipes seem a bit dated. For example, not many dinner tables are graced with a molded chicken aspic. (An aspic, if you are wondering, is a transparent jelly made from the juices of meat or meat stock that has been firmed with gelatin.) In fact, not many dishes are served in a mold at all--what a shame. In lieu of going to a kitchen store and finding an amazing mold to use for one of these retro recipes, I decided to make something that also caught my eye: Burnt Sugar Dumplings. The recipe from The Encyclopedic Cookbook follows:


SIRUP
1 1/2 cups sugar
2 tablespoons butter
1/8 teaspoon salt
2 cups hot water
DUMPLINGS
1 1/2 cups sifted flour
2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
3 tablespoons sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons butter
1/2 cup chopped walnut meats
3/4 cup milk


Heat 1/2 cup sugar in skillet until it melts to a golden brown sirup. Add butter, salt, and remaining sugar. Add hot water gradually, stirring constantly. Heat to boiling and cook until sugar is dissolved about 10 minutes, stirring frequently. Sift flour, baking powder,m sugar and salt together. Cut in butter with pastry blender. Add walnuts; stir in milk all at once, mixing only enough to moisten flour. Drop by tablespoons into gently boiling caramel sauce. Cover tightly and simmer gently 12 to 15 minutes without removing cover. Serve at once with sauce, for 6

Bubbling, browned sugar with two tablespoons of butter added.

Moistened flour mixture with added walnuts.

The first dumplings added to the mixture!

A close-up of the cooking dumplings.

The final product!

The verdict: These are great! I am so pleased that I decided to make Burnt Sugar Dumplings. This recipe is all about timing--making sure that the sugar mixture is being stirred constantly while you simultaneously cut butter into the flour mixture. It would be helpful to have two sets of hands for this one but even if you can't find a friend to help out, these dumplings are worth a try. The flavor is fantastic and it's always fun to try something new.

Happy adventuring!

Mocha Mallow Mist

In the good ol' days, every Thursday The Evening Sun (of The Baltimore Sun newspapers) printed recipes and articles about cooking. One of the food columnists for The Sun, Virginia Roeder, a 1953 Johns Hopkins University "graduate home economist" compiled a bunch of the most successful recipes and created a mini-cookbook which was then distributed to the newspaper's loyal readers. The book, titled "Fun With Food: A Cook Book Designed Especially for the Busy Maryland Housewife by The Evening Sun" found its way into my hands, and blew me away with its now-retro dishes, drinks, and desserts. 


The first recipe to catch my eye was entitled, Mocha Mallow Mist--I'm a sucker for alliteration. Mocha Mallow Mist, you say? What exactly is a "mist" in culinary terms. I don't think Julia Child covered that one... Let's follow the recipe to find out:


24 marshmallows, cut in quarters
1 cup strong coffee
1 cup heavy cream, whipped


Melt marshmallows in coffee. Cool. Fold whipped cream into coffee mixture. Pour into sherbet glasses and top with chopped pecans or chocolate curls. 


Seems easy enough, so here we go!

The verdict: Yes, yes, yes! This dessert is delicious. It's extremely rich, but very tasty and quite simple. There is something to be said about the "busy Maryland housewife" and her ability to make a delicious dessert in a pinch. Although I am not used to heavy cream and marshmallows as staple ingredients in the kitchen, this will definitely be a repeat recipe. Give it a try!

Happy adventuring!

Ball Cheese II

In my very first blog post I began to attempt making the Pennsylvania Dutch recipe "Ball Cheese." This proved to be quite a journey and I learned a few very important things along the way. The first and most important piece of information is that in order to make cheese you must use RAW milk, not the pasteurized and homogenized stuff you find in the regular grocery store. The first gallon I used to make Ball Cheese was pasteurized and, after a phone call from my mother and a panicked "OH, don't do that!" I learned that the bacteria needed to turn the milk into cheese was killed off in the pasteurization process. This sent me to Reading Terminal Market where I picked up a gallon of raw milk and began the cheese again. This time, the milk was entirely different. It began to spoil almost immediately, but it did not give off the terrible smell that the first gallon did. The milk became thick and creamy, and eventually separated into what is known as the curds and whey (Little Miss Muffet, anyone?). 

After the milk thoroughly thickened, I poured the chunky mixture into a bowl lined with doubled cheese cloth. 

Then, I separated the curds from the whey!

It took several hours for the water to drain from the cheese, so I let the cheese cloth hang over the sink until the drips stopped. Then, I spooned the cheese mixture onto a ceramic plate (as the recipe specified) and set it to rest for three days.

The next step will be to prepare the cheese for "ripening" which involves a coat of baking soda and a ceramic crock. Look forward to my third Ball Cheese post in about fourteen days!

Happy adventuring!

Rice Waffles

Today I decided to make Rice Waffles. I found the recipe in a cookbook called Fine Old Dixie Recipes which was published in 1936. Since I had never tasted (or heard of) Rice Waffles, I decided to give them a shot. The recipe is as follows:

This recipe (like most of the recipes that I attempt) was not very detailed, so I had to assume several things about the directions. For example, I did not know if the cooked rice should be cooled before adding it to the egg yolk mixture. Furthermore, the term "well-beaten" as applied to the egg whites could have been a little more specific--scrambled or stiff peaks? So I improvised.

First, I mixed the ingredients as described. I decided to cool the rice before I added it to the egg yolks so that I didn't end up with scramblers.

Then, I mixed in the egg whites, which I beat with a fork. Afterwards, the mixture was still very dry, so I added a few splashes of milk until I could spread the rice-specked dough across the heated waffle iron.

The waffle iron did the rest of the work, until I removed the cooked Rice Waffles and let them cool slightly.

The verdict: Since I had never eaten Rice Waffles before, I didn't know what to expect. I very much wanted these to be light and fluffy, but instead they were a bit tough. I think that if I beat the egg whites more (to form soft peaks) and then folded them in softly, that would make the waffles a bit lighter. The density of the waffles and the crunch of the rice made me want to top the waffles with butter more than syrup, making it serve more like a bread than a breakfast. I may attempt this recipe again, remembering to beat the egg whites more before adding them to the mixture.

Happy adventuring!

SPAMCAKES

Admit it, SPAM is strange. Even so, SPAM has become somewhat of an American institution since its debut in 1937. During World War II more than 100 million pounds of the canned ham product were shipped to allied troops overseas. By 1959, one billion cans of SPAM were produced and that number doubled to two billion by 1970, the same year that Monty Python’s Flying Circus (with its unforgettable SPAM sketch) debuted on television.

Today, over 7 billion cans of SPAM have been produced, with new varieties like “light SPAM” and “less-sodium SPAM” for those of us who are the slightest bit health-conscious. And, although most people tend to think of SPAM as a comical retro culinary oddity, today I will be eating it for breakfast. This is my very first SPAM experience! The recipe I will be using is straight from the source: www.spam.com, run by Hormel Foods.

The recipe is as follows:

1 1/2 cups pancake mix

1 cup milk

1 egg

1 tablespoon oil

1 can (7oz) SPAM® Classic, finely chopped

In bowl, combine pancake mix, milk, egg, and oil

Stir in chopped SPAM® Classic

Using 1/3 cup for each pancake, pour batter on greased griddle

Bake until browned on bottom

Turn and brown other side

Serve with syrup or honey

The verdict: SPAM is not the world's scariest food, but it is quite strange. Upon opening the can, I was met with an odor that I could only describe as canned dog food. And the gelatinous goop surrounding the meat was less than desirable. Having said that, SPAMCAKES were actually pretty good (I can just hear the gasps from my mother now) but I do not think that I would make them again. The taste was like a salty pancakes with moments of mushy meat, but the syrup created a nice little breakfast treat. If I were to make this again, I would only use half of the can of SPAM instead of the whole chunk. That way, it would be a little more pancake and a little less ham.

Happy adventuring!

Chocolate Oddities

In 1892, Reading Terminal Market opened its doors to the city of Philadelphia. Since then, the market has been through many changes but still flourishes today. More than 80 vendors sell their goods at Reading Terminal Market everyday, whether it be free range chicken, local honey, or handmade soap. The market is an exciting, eccentric blend of culinary and artistic delights.


A few weeks ago, while I was walking up and down the aisles of fresh fruit and flowers in the market, I stumbled upon a candy shop selling blog-worthy goods. What first drew me to the candy stand (besides the overwhelming aroma of sugar) was the display of chocolate ears and noses behind glass. Then, as I walked further, I came to "chocolate lab rats." And finally--my personal favorite--chocolate dipped onions. I had to share my findings:

The next time you are in Philadelphia, make a stop at Reading Terminal Market. Not only is it a part of the city's history, the market boasts an array of delicious (and different!) foods and products. If you don't feel comfortable nibbling on a chocolate ear or if you aren't ready to take a chomp out of a chocolate-dipped onion, there are plenty of other mysteries to uncover.

Happy adventuring!

Currant Jelly Tartlets

In modern recipe books it is rare that you will find instruction on how “To Clean Old Oil Paintings” under a pork recipe, but in the Household Book for Practical Receipts by Mrs. George W M Reynolds, that is exactly what you will find. Recipe #224 is for chocolate cream and recipe #225 is for “Dr. Birt Davies’ Gout Mixture.” Recipe #487 is to “Pickle Cheeks of Bacon” and #488 is for “Were’s Eye Lotion.” Recipe #871 is called “Lemon Cream for the Sun burn or Freckles” and #872 is for Currant Jelly Tartlets, which brings me to my next culinary adventure.

Today I will be making Currant Jelly Tartlets. The original recipe reads:

Put four tablespoonsfuls of the best currant jelly into a basin, and stir to it gradually twelve spoonfuls of beaten egg ; if the preserve be rich and sweet, no sugar will be required. Line some pans with paste rolled very thin, fill them with the custard, and bake them about ten minutes.

I found this recipe a bit tricky because lining “some pans” with “paste rolled very thin” meant pretty much nothing to me. Some pans? Cake pans? Brownie pans? Four tablespoons of currant jelly is not going to spread across an 8x10 pan. And what exactly is paste? With a little research I found that “paste” is really just piecrust. A simple sweet paste can be made from flour, sugar, butter, and eggs. All ingredients are mixed together to form a stiff paste, thus the name! The following recipe for paste is from “Soyer's Standard Cookery” (1912):

Sweet Paste For Tartlets

Ingredients. - Two pounds of fine flour, sixteen ounces of  castor sugar, ten ounces of butter, six eggs, the finely-grated rind of lemon.

Method. - Sift the flour into a bowl, make a hole in the center, put in the sugar, butter and eggs, and mix the whole into a stiff paste. Roll and use as required.

Now that we have more information, we can move on to the Currant Jelly Tartlets. For the tartlets, I decided to use a 6-cup cupcake pan. I cut rounds from the sweet paste using a martini glass to form perfect circles.

Then, I lined the cupcake pan with the cut-outs, pressing the middle of each round into the bottom of the pan.

Next, I mixed the beaten egg into the currant jelly.

Then, I poured the currant jelly mixture into the middle of the paste rounds.

I baked the tartlets in an oven at 350 F for ten minutes, like the recipe said, but they were not nearly done by that point so I watched them until the egg mixture became firm and then removed them from the oven.

The verdict: They aren't the most beautiful tartlets in the world, but they sure are tasty! (I might suggest a little of the currant jelly on top for some more flavor and sweetness.) If I were to make this again, I would use a smaller cup cupcake pan (possibly a 12 or 24 cup pan) which would spread the mixture more thinly and enable the custard to cook more quickly. 

Happy adventuring!

Scrapple

Yesterday, I came across a recipe book in my grandmother’s kitchen called Old Pennsylvania Dutch Cook Book (1936). Some of the recipes inspired me to write about food that I cannot, and will not ever cook or eat. The first of these foods is scrapple, also known as ponhaws. 

I have never tasted scrapple, but I have seen in on a plate many times. Usually, it is offered in the same sentence as bacon and sausage when you order a stack of pancakes at a diner. ("You want bacon, sausage, or scrapple with that?") What is scrapple, I always wondered. I knew it was some sort of meat product, but the grey color and grainy texture confused me to a point of disinterest. Even so, after stumbling upon a traditional recipe for the mystery meat I couldn't help but share my findings. Here, I will demystify scrapple:

So now I know, and now you know. Scrapple is mystery meat no more. Still, there is something about scraping the inside of a freshly halved hog's head that just doesn't sit well with me. Having said that, I suppose if you are going to kill the animal then it is best to use all of it, right? I know that there is no room for a hog's head in my kitchen but I'm sure there are people out there that would find this recipe intriguing. Any takers? 

Happy adventuring!

Rambutan

Here’s a little edible strangeling that needs no recipe: rambutan. Closely related to lychee fruit, rambutan is a red or yellow fruit with a bristly skin and sweet flesh. Rambutan is said to have originated in Southeast Asia and its name translates to mean “hairy” which describes its shell. If you want to taste a rambutan for yourself, try an Asian market nearby. Or, if you have no luck with the markets, you can order the tropical fruit online at a place like www.exoticfruitmarket.com.

To eat a rambutan, split the shell in half and pull it away from the flesh. The inside will look something like a peeled grape, which holds a large seed in the middle.

Happy adventuring!

Cracker Soup

I awoke this morning ready to dive into the next recipe. Unfortunately, when I passed the gallon of spoiling milk on my counter that will later be used to make the Ball Cheese I spoke of in my first post, I started to feel a bit queezy. Given my slight upset stomach, I thought it the perfect time to prepare Cracker Soup, a dish that I had heard about but never tried. Today I will be using a recipe from the Inglenook Cook Book (1907) that has a specific recipe section for the sick. In addition to Cracker Soup, it seems that Sour Cream Soup, Corn Meal Tea, and Barely Water (for fever) were also prepared for those with ailments. Although I am excited to experiment with Cracker Soup, I am slightly skeptical of the source, which states that Eggnog is also a good treatment for the ill. The book says that Eggnog is “a pleasant and nourishing food for invalids.” We’ll see about that at Christmas time. Now on to the soup! The original recipe is as follows:

Place a dozen crackers in a bowl, grate a little nutmeg over them, add 1 teaspoonful of butter and 1 tablespoonful of granulated sugar. Pour over boiling water enough to cover the crackers; cover and let steam a few minutes. Serve hot.

The verdict: Cracker Soup is not your typical breakfast. Mixing the water with the crackers creates a gloppy, slippery mess. Having said that, the butter, sugar, and nutmeg make it taste pretty good! So if you can get past the texture of the first few bites, the end result is kind of nice!

Happy adventuring!

Peking Duck

When I began this foodie adventure, I dreamed of discovering all of the culinary oddities and strange food that the world had to offer. But I realize that “strange” is a relative term. For some people, “Ball Cheese” as prepared by the Pennsylvania Dutch, may seem like a normal addition to the plate. For others, the name may be a deterrent in itself. Let me say, for the record, that I love food and I love discovering the food of other cultures, especially those that strike me as strange or intriguing. This brings me to my next discussion: Peking Duck.

Let’s spin the globe for a minute or two and visit China. Having traveled to the country twice, I can say with certainty that it is a place full of culinary delights—some strange and some delicious. One of my favorite meals to have in China comes from the city of Beijing and has become somewhat popular in the United States too. Peking Duck (also called Beijing Duck) has been prepared for centuries and remains somewhat of a culinary secret possessed only by the most experienced Chinese chefs. I do know that the preparation is extremely labor-intensive and very time consuming. It involves a duck that is fully deplumed, but with head and feet intact. The chef makes a small incision by the duck’s neck and inflates the skin so that it separates from the meat—not a meal for the faint of heart, or for animal rights activists for that matter. After the duck is inflated, the feet are cut off at the ankles. Then, the duck is hung with a special loop and is basted with boiling water and a mixture of different ingredients (usually honey dissolved in water) and then dried in an oven for around four hours.

A bunch of ducks hang to dry before being prepared in the traditional Peking style in Beijing, China.

It is said that Peking Duck originates from the Ming Dynasty. It is during this time that the strict specifications for preparing the duck probably evolved. For example, Peking Duck should be prepared from a duck that is exactly 65 days old. Furthermore, it can weigh no less than four pounds. Today, in restaurants across the county and in Beijing, eating Peking Duck is a ceremonial process. The duck is presented whole next to the table, then it is sliced methodically into little thin pieces, which are placed on a plate. The duck is served with thin pancakes, scallions, and hoisin sauce. It’s definitely a meal that one should try at an authentic Chinese restaurant, seeing as preparing it correctly seems near impossible, but if you want to attempt this delightful dish at home, here is a link to a video that teaches a simple version of the recipe:

How to make Peking Duck

Happy adventuring!

Ball Cheese

I have many passions. One of them is food.

Today I begin my journey through the culinary mysteries of America (and beyond) with a recipe from the Pennsylvania Dutch called “Ball Cheese.” That’s right, “Ball Cheese.” I have a particular affinity for the Pennsylvania Dutch because a sizeable portion of my heritage can be traced from Germany to Pennsylvania. A common misconception about the Pennsylvania Dutch is that they are originally from the Netherlands or Holland (thus the term “Dutch”) but in fact, they are originally from Germany. The word “Deutsch,” meaning German, became “Dutch” by way of the English language in America.

While researching interesting and strange preparations of food, I came across a recipe for “Ball Cheese” in the “Pennsylvania Dutch Cook Book” by J. George Frederick. The recipe calls for one gallon of sour, thick milk, and takes over two weeks to prepare, so I will leave the recipe here while I work on these little beauties and report back in a couple weeks:

Ball Cheese, Millersville

1 gallon sour, thick milk

Let the milk get thoroughly thick and sour, then put into a cheesecloth bag and let the water drain from it. When drained salt it to taste. Form it into flat round balls about 3 inches in diameter, and lay upon china platters for three days. Then roll the balls in baking soda and wrap in paper. Place the balls in an earthen or glass crock and let ripen for two weeks. Then take them out and rinse in water to remove soda, scraping the balls with a knife. They are then ready to serve, to eat. They are good with rye bread.

A gallon of milk, souring on my tabletop!

Happy adventuring!