Eggplant, The Perfect Way -- Calabria

I have returned to A Mediterranean Feast by Clifford Wright.  I suspect it will become a favorite because of its diversity of recipes, and I've only read the first hundred pages!

ISBN 0-688-15305-4

In Part I:  An Algebra of Mediterranean Gastronomy, Chapter 2:  Harvest of Sorrow, Food of Dreams (page 77), I came across Melanzane alla Finitese, with an accompanying paragraph of:

Arab agriculturists brought the eggplant to the Mediterranean from Persia, or perhaps even from the Arabian peninsula, in the ninth or tenth century.  The eggplant was treated with suspicion at first, but soon became a favorite vegetable. ... Calabrians have seemingly hundreds of different preparations for eggplant and many might agree that this is the perfect way. The late American food writer Waverly Root claimed that this dish is so called because it is a specialty of San Martino di Finita.

Eggplant, The Perfect Way

8 baby eggplant (about 1 1/2 pounds)
Salt to taste
2/3 cup freshly grated pecorino cheese
1/4 finely chopped fresh basil leaves
Freshly ground black pepper
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil

Basil doesn't get any fresher than this!

1.  Slit each eggplant open in the middle, slicing it lengthwise and making sure you do not cut all the way through.  Hollow out a small amount of pulp with a small spoon such as a demitasse or baby spoon.  Save the pulp for making the recipe on page 531.* Open the eggplant with your fingers and salt the inside.  Leave them on a plate to drain of their bitter juices for 30 minutes, then pat dry the insides with paper towels.

2. In a small bowl, mix the pecorino, basil, and pepper.  Using your fingers, stuff each eggplant with the cheese mixture.  Close each eggplant with a toothpick if necessary so very little stuffing escapes.

3.  In a medium-size skillet, heat the olive oil over medium heat and cook the eggplant until soft, about 25 minutes.  Transfer to a serving platter, drizzle with a little olive oil, and let sit for 10 minutes before serving.

Makes 4 servings.

* Eggplant Omelette Fritters

My Notes

I used only two baby eggplants so I reduced the cheese mixture quantities to match (about one fourth of the recommended amounts).

They didn't say anything about the stem end, so I cut it off as close to the stem as I could.  This turned out to be convenient for hollowing out the pulp.  I was careful to open the eggplants only enough for the work that needed to be done so the uncut part would not split.

Slit, scooped, and salted

Since I was only using two eggplants, I did not save the pulp to make the recipe on page 531. 

For each eggplant, I used about 1/2 tsp of salt which I poured into my hand then gently poured into the eggplant.  Closing and shaking the eggplant helped distribute the salt. They were placed cut-side down on the plate to make the draining easier.

The cheese mixture had a bit more than 1/8 tsp. of pepper, which I thought was too much but my guest taster liked.

The toothpicks went in at a slant to the cut.

The olive oil was heated until it started to smoke, then I turned the heat down until it was barely smoking.  Then I put in the stuffed eggplants.  My concern was knowing when they were done -- nothing happened for about 7 to 8 minutes after they sat in the hot oil.  Then some sizzling occurred and I felt like they were actually cooking!

See the toothpicks?

I turned the eggplants four times, letting them sit at least five minutes on each side before turning.  The skin turned dark and the flesh slumped, showing me it was getting soft.  It was pretty easy to see they were getting done. 

To serve them, I pulled out the toothpicks and opened them up, trying to get some of the stuffing on both halves.  That was hard; one half had most, if not all, of the stuffing.  I didn't drizzle more oil on them because they had oil on them still from the pan.  I did let them rest ten minutes, as directed.

The Verdict

This was very good!  At first I thought I should avoid eating the skin but it tasted fine -- not burnt or scorched or bitter.  Parts of it did slide off the flesh so you can look for that if you don't want to eat it.

The flesh was tender and mild; the cheese, basil, and pepper combination is tasty in its own right but a good accompaniment for the flesh -- the pecorino was strong but the basil was in enough quantity that their flavors blended and complimented each other.  No one flavor dominated even though I thought there was too much pepper.

I sincerely wished for more of the tasty stuffing.  I used all that I made but I felt the eggplants were modestly stuffed; I think the next time around I would fill them full.  Next time, too, I would consider serving them unopened (but without the toothpick) because I expect it to be easier to get the stuffing in every bite.

Success!  I would do this again and especially for company.  It is unique, simple, and impressive.  My guest taster was very suspicious of eggplant yet liked it enough to eat the whole thing.  I served it with broiled steak; fresh tomatoes dressed with balsamic vinegar, pepper, and basil strips; and pine nut couscous.  A very satisfying meal.

Hot enough to steam up the camera lens

Baked Cottage Cheese Pudding -- Take 2

This is an update on the Russian dish, "Baked Cottage Cheese Pudding", originally posted on 1 June 2014.  

I tried this recipe again, doubling it because the size of the cottage cheese carton makes that convenient.  I used only finely grated orange zest and some extra sugar as the flavoring.  The entire batch went into the pie pan.

It took longer to cook, as I expected: about 45 minutes at 375 degrees Fahrenheit in a ceramic pan.  I liked that the top browned and did not get rubbery at all, that the filling was thicker and therefore more tender, the flavor was great, and the overall look was more substantial.

The only problem was that the mixture was very watery after baking.  I am not certain but I think the different brand of cottage cheese was wetter than in the first attempt.  So my solution would be to either add more semolina to absorb the water or drain the cheese before adding it to the mix.

This is really a tasty dish!  I had it for breakfast with some grapes and poached eggs.  Excellent with sour cream and a bit of key lime marmalade.  Success, again!

Addendum:  I had the leftovers a few days later and I still think it tastes better cold.  

Baked Cottage Cheese Pudding -- A Russian "Twofer"

Many (but not too many) years ago some friends went to Russia to adopt a daughter.  While they were gone, I helped out with some of their responsibilities.  When they returned, they brought me this book, Russian Cuisine, by Lydia Lyakhovskaya:

ISBN 5-8194-0010-0

It is a charming book with a lot of great pictures, some cute illustrations, and interesting authentic recipes. 

The recipe that drew my attention was Baked Cottage Cheese Pudding (page 66). It is in the category of "Cereals, Pasta Poaches, and Omelettes" and is presented as a lovely dish to serve when having tea or coffee. 

Baked Cottage Cheese Pudding

1 cup cottage cheese
1 egg
1 tsp. sugar
a dint each of salt and soda
1 tbsp. semolina
1 tbsp. candied orange peel or a handful of raisins
1 tbsp. butter
1 tbsp. bread crumbs

Ready to be doubled.

Rub cottage cheese with salt, sugar and egg, add semolina and soda, stir until well blended and spread as an even coat in a buttered mould or pan sprinkled with bread crumbs.  Bake in a 356 to 392 degree oven until brown.  Serve the fritter with sour cream, honey, jam, cranberry or currants ground with sugar, for tea and coffee.

My Notes

Notice there are no directions for what to do with the orange peel or raisins.  The picture looked like the orange peel may have been scattered across the top but it was hard to tell if it was before or after baking. 

I was having trouble deciding if I wanted to use the orange peel or the raisins and then I realized one container of cottage cheese was big enough for a double recipe! 

I wasn't sure how much a "dint" was, much less doubling a dint, so I treated it like a "pinch" and made the doubled measure about 1/8 teaspoon.

The soda was baking soda and it made the mixture bubble just a little bit.

After I made the doubled recipe but before I spread it into the pan, I split the mixture into two bowls.  Two and half cups split into one and a quarter cups per bowl.  Then I mixed in a handful of raisins into one and about 1/2 teaspoon finely grated orange zest and 1 teaspoon of extra sugar into the other.  (Candied orange peel does not last long around my house!)

Each flavor went into a buttered pie pan.  My bread crumbs were homemade and rather large.  Some would compare them to Panko crumbs.  They kept the pudding from sticking to the pan, as desired, but also formed a nice crunchy crust on the finished product.  That really added to the overall texture.

Ready for the oven.

 The two pans baked at 375 degrees Fahrenheit for 25 minutes.  They smelled delicious and the crumbs browned. 

Ready for eating.

The Verdict

Taking the advice of the recipe, I served the puddings with hot tea in a clear glass cup.  The cup has a map of the world on it, so I enjoyed looking at Russia while I dined.

Ready to please.

I tried the puddings both hot and cool.  I liked the cool best because the flavors came through clearly.  My first reaction was that I absolutely loved the orange peel one and imagined that the raisin one wouldn't be as good.  As it turned out, the raisin pudding was very good, too. 

The puddings were each very thin.  The surface was a little rubbery and the inside was soft and creamy.  The rubbery did not detract from the flavor or texture.   The orange flavor with the cheese was outstanding.  The raisins added a bit of sweet chewiness.  I think it might be tasty to put both orange peel and raisins some time!

After the initial taste as they were out of the pan, I tried them with sour cream -- an excellent accompaniment, especially with the raisins -- and with strawberry jam and orange marmalade.  The jams were good, too, but I thought they overwhelmed the flavor of the orange peel.  My guest taste tester thought everything was good and loved both the sour cream and jam on them. 

I declare it a success!  This was so easy to do and very tasty.  I think it would make a good breakfast or brunch dish, along with some grapes and perhaps a croissant or a bagel.  It was quite excellent with tea.

I called this a "twofer" because I got two flavors from one recipe.  I'll add in another twofer by mentioning that the next page talked about "Cottage Cheese Fritters" which is this recipe except use 2 tbsp. wheat flour instead of semolina.  Roll the batter into a round strip, cut into pieces, shape them into an oval or round shape, then saute' in butter on both sides until brown.  Sounds like a good camping recipe to me.

String-Roasted Chicken

My experience in roasting over fire, admittedly limited, was with putting the meat on a spit and having someone sit around it for a while turning the spit.  Nice, fun to look at a demonstration, but tough to keep at it well.  Even the books I have read and the historical kitchens I've visited had spit roasting only.

So imagine my surprise and delight when I came across this book, The Magic of Fire by William Rubel at the Autry Museum in Los Angeles. 

ISBN  1-58008-453-2

On page 62 is the introduction to String Roasting:

"When it comes to hearthside roasting, the elegant solution is to roast from a loop of cotton string hanging from a hook, a practice that lasted well into the nineteenth century.  Today, it is only in France that the system the French call a la ficelle -- on a string -- remains more than a historical curiosity."

I had a Cornish Game Hen that I wanted to try.  I reasoned I wanted a small one for my experiment so it wouldn't take too long to cook.

To summarize the instructions:

   You need a mature fire with a substantial bed of embers. 
   Truss the meat so it is as compact and as symmetrical as possible.
   Skewer the upper and lower thirds of the meat so that the skewers are parallel and at the center of   
       the meat.

On a stick!

   Hang a string from above the hearth or firepit and tie a loop in the end.  The length should get the
       meat pretty close to the embers.
   Make a loop of string and place on part on the skewer, pass the other end through the hanging loop,
       and then over the other side of the skewer.
   Adjust until the meat hangs vertically, without tilting.  Press the loops against the meat.
   Give the meat a spin.

A whirling dervish

   Put a drip pan under the bird and add 1 cup water.
   Baste the meat as needed.

Getting golden

   When the lower part looks done, flip the meat by moving the string to the lower skewer.

Flipped

 Let the meat rest for 10 minutes when done.

 My Notes
I used a technique I learned a few years ago from Gervase Markham's The Complete Housewife (published in the late 1590s) for spit roasting:  he suggests you coat the bird with butter and then with dried bread crumbs.  At first you have to baste it with butter and the drippings but after a little while the bread crumbs have soaked up enough fat to take over the basting themselves.

So what I have here is a chicken that is self-turning and self-basting.  A Renaissance cook's dream come true!

This bird hung over the fire for about four hours.  It should have taken maybe one hour.  My fire was hot but I think the bird was too high above it to get enough heat to cook it to a decent internal temperature.

I liked that the outside was getting golden brown even at the top before it was flipped.  That kept me for worrying that the meat was going bad.

But after four hours I decided to finish it off in a Dutch oven.  I put it and the drippings into the oven with a bit of water then covered it.  Once over the fire I turned it occasionally until it was hot and cooked through.

The Verdict
This has to be labeled as a failure because I was not able to cook the bird completely even in four hours.  However I believe the fault was mine in not getting the fire hot enough or hanging the bird low enough over it.  This is the same error I made the first time I tried spit roasting a chicken -- and the second attempt with the needed corrections worked beautifully. 

So I will give it a failure rating but tell you that it was partially successful because the meat was tender and moist and flavorful.  I did not use any seasonings, just butter and breadcrumbs, and yet everyone who tried commented on how succulent and tasty it was.

I look forward to trying it again some time.  Now I have a better idea of what to do and how to do it.

Chicken Hutspot, in the Spanish Fashion (Netherlands)

I have this lovely book entitled The Dutch Table, by Gillian Riley, which does not contain very many recipes but the ones it does have are teamed up with excellent paintings.  Many are still-life paintings of food and portraits of banqueting people or people preparing food, and were made during the "Golden Age" of genre painting in the Netherlands.  This is the seventeenth century.

ISBN 1-56640-978-0

Here is my favorite quote from the introduction:

The gorgeousness of the worldly goods displayed in paintings depicting the interiors of private houses, public ceremonies, and still-lifes seems to reflect the enjoyment by an unrepentant population of the conspicuous consumption denounced by the preachers of a theoretically austere and self-denying culture.

She also points out that the recipes "attempt to convey the spirit of the paintings they accompany, in the light of what we can tentatively deduce about the eating habits of the time."

Chicken hutspot, she says, is a medieval Arab recipe, arriving in Holland by way of Spain.  There is the more traditional beef hutspot which contains onions and parsley and often carrots.  That is the basis of the accompanying painting, by Gerrit Dou (1613 - 1675), "Young Woman Chopping Onions."

The dish gained recognition in 1574 from an event in Leiden:  The Spanish had besieged the town for months and so the community leaders decided to open the sluices to flood the enemy.  This worked and Leiden was free.  "A small boy crept into the deserted camp and there, still simmering on the dying embers, was a cauldron of stew.  An abandoned hutspot."  This victory is celebrated in Leiden every October 3 with dancing and communal feasts.

The chicken hutspot appealed to me the most as I am very fond of chicken and of dates and of the spices recommended for the dish.

Chicken Hutspot, in the Spanish Fashion

For 6 people

1 free-range chicken, cut into pieces (I used 6 boneless, skinless thighs)
1 cup white bread crumbs
marrow from a marrowbone, or butter
ginger, cinnamon, saffron, sugar, and salt to taste
lemon peel, in slivers
1 cup dates, stoned and chopped

Cook the chicken pieces in water or stock made from the carcass until tender, then add the bread crumbs and seasoning, together with the dates and lemon peel, and simmer for about half an hour, until the flavors have amalgamated.

Use butter instead of bone marrow, if expedient.

My Notes
One aspect of this recipe that stood out to me was that the cooking should be very slow and gentle.  No rushing here!  Everything went into a large cast iron fry pan and that worked well.

I cooked the chicken in a broth at a very slow simmer for 20 minutes, and about half that time there was a lid on it to help cook the top.  The broth came up about 3/4 of the height of the thighs.  This cooked them almost all the way through and they were very tender.

The recipe didn't specify it but I took the thighs out of the broth after the 20 minutes so I could add the other ingredients and whisk them together well.  Then I added half of the dates, replaced the chicken on top of those, and then added the rest of the dates.

I made the bread crumbs by putting two frozen dinner rolls in the blender (one at a time) and processing them until they were fine crumbs.

Butter was expedient for me.

My taste wanted 1 tsp of cinnamon, 1/2 tsp ginger, 1/8 tsp ground saffron, 1 tsp sugar, and no salt because the broth already had salt in it.

The lemon zest was finely grated and was from about half of the small lemon I had.

I only used about 1/2 tsp of butter because there was already fat from the chicken in the sauce.

Then I let the flavors amalgamate for 30 minutes over the lowest possible setting on my range.  I made sure to spoon the sauce over the top of the thighs several times while they were cooking.

The sauce thickened beautifully and coated the meat well.

The Verdict
Oh my goodness.  The sauce was absolutely wonderful!  Thick, not too sweet (which surprised me because of the dates), just a bit spicy from the cinnamon and ginger, and the lemon zest -- oh!  the lemon zest! -- was the perfect addition.  It added a bit of sparkle and citrus perfume to play off against the other flavors.  The dates made the sauce nicely crunchy.

Pairing it with the very tender meat was heavenly.  Once I finished a thigh I used a roll to get all the rest of the sauce because it should not go to waste.  My taste buds are still doing the happy dance as I type this. 

What a success.  I would do this again in a heartbeat.  It would be an excellent main course for company and easy to prepare, too.  It definitely needs that 30 minute amalgamation time to thoroughly infuse the zest with the rest of the spices.

No wonder Ms. Riley quotes historian Simon Schama as saying this recipe is "the perfect way to sanction abundance without risking retribution for greed."

I'm going to have a second piece now.

YUM!

Spinach with Raisins and Pine Nuts -- Catalonia

I recently acquired a copy of A Mediterranean Feast by Clifford A. Wright.  This book is a tome!  At 8 inches by 10 inches by 2 inches in size and over 800 pages, it is impressive just to hold.  But when you open it up and start perusing, you find out it is much more than a collection of recipes.

ISBN 0-688-15305-4

 The inside cover says this:

A groundbreaking culinary work of extraordinary depth and scope that spans more than one thousand years of history, A Mediterranean Feast tells the sweeping story of the birth of the venerated and diverse cuisines of the Mediterranean. ...

The evolution of these cuisines is not simply the story of farming, herding, and fishing; rather, the story encompasses wars and plagues, political intrigue and pirates, the Silk Road and the discovery of the New World, the rise of capitalism and the birth of city-states, the Crusades and the Spanish Inquisition, and the obsession with spices.  The ebb and flow of empires, the movement of populations from country to city, and religion have all played a determining role in making each of these cuisines unique.

Yes, he teaches you the history of the regions as he presents recipes that typify the point he has been making.  Not every recipe is historical but he does make those connections when he can.  For instance, on page 19 he offers Espinacs amb Panses i Pinyons from Catalonia, and explains

This traditional Catalan dish, also popular in the Balearic Islands, is usually made with Swiss chard.  The dish reappears identically in Provence, Languedoc, Lazio ..., Liguria ..., Sicily, and Attica.  It is also an old recipe in Venice, and Iberian Jews know it as a favorite, too.

So I present to you Espinacs amb Panses i Pinyons, that is

Spinach with Raisins and Pine Nuts

2 1/2 pounds spinach, heavy stems removed and washed well
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
1 garlic clove, crushed
1/3 cup pine nuts
1/3 cup golden raisins, soaked for 15 minutes in tepid water and drained
salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

1. Place the spinach in a pot with only the water adhering to it from its last rinsing.  Cover, turn the heat to medium-high, and cook until it wilts, about 5 minutes, turning a few times.  Drain well in a strainer, pushing out excess water with the back of a wooden spoon.  Chop the spinach and set aside.

2. In a medium-size skillet, heat the olive oil with the crushed garlic over medium-high heat until the garlic turns light brown, about 1 minute.  Remove and discard the garlic.  Add the pine nuts and drained raisins and cook for 2 minutes, stirring, then reduce the heat to medium, add the spinach, season with salt and pepper, and cook until hot and fragrant, about 5 minutes.  Serve immediately.

Makes 6 servings

My Notes
I made a half recipe, using one bag of spinach that came prewashed so I just rinsed it and shook off the excess water in order to have "only the water adhering to it from its last rinsing."  That one bag filled my largest kettle!  I guess if I had made a full recipe I would have to wilt the spinach in batches.

It is important to press out the excess water as the recipe directs.  The spinach was a clump and it held a lot of water, which would have made the dish soggy.

Beware that the hot oil will splatter when you put the drained raisins in -- that can hurt.

I thought that my stove was set to medium-high heat but it seemed too hot when I started cooking the nuts and raisins -- the nuts browned quickly and the raisins puffed up like grapes.  That 2 minutes seemed like an eternity and I was working hard to stop any scorching.  In fact, it was cooking so quickly even after I turned the fire down that I didn't really taste for seasoning and it needed more of both salt and pepper at the table.  Next time I would use a lower heat.

The Verdict
Wow, tasty!  I usually eat spinach raw in salads, so this was a very different experience for me.  I enjoyed the leafy taste of the greens but I really liked how their flavor was balanced by the sweet of the raisins and the toasted, creamy, almost meaty flavor of the pine nuts.  I don't think I even noticed the olive oil in it.  The pepper gave a subtle tingling aftertaste on my tongue.  Success!

What was really nice was how easy it was to prepare and still make a lovely side dish.  Simple yet classy.  I served it with the Icelandic Chicken (see the April 1, 2014 post) for a tasty and filling meal.

Icelandic Chicken

This recipe satisfies both my historical recipe and "another country" goals.  I got it from a website run by Cariadoc, AKA David Friedman, whose recipe "A Tarte of Strawberries" I made and posted on May 15, 2012. The tarte recipe, by the way, is my most-viewed blog post to date.  I had the pleasure of meeting Cariadoc at the Society of Creative Anachronism's West Coast Culinary Symposium last month and was amazed to find out he has been researching and redacting historical recipes for over 40 years.

 

Icelandic Chicken is from An Old Icelandic Medical Miscelleny, edited by Henning Larson, and published in Oslo, 1931.  

 

A brief description gives us, "This important Icelandic medical document, containing a curious mixture of superstition and medieval medical knowledge, has been edited from a fifteenth century manuscript found in Dublin."

 

Cariadoc's web page has a translation and his redaction.  I followed it somewhat, with the exception that I made half the amount of dough and used four boneless, skinless chicken thighs instead of two halves of a chicken.  I thought that was more manageable for myself and my dinner guest.

 

http://www.pbm.com/~lindahl/cariadoc/poultry.html

 

Icelandic p. 218/D1 (GOOD)

One shall cut a young chicken in two and wrap about it whole leaves of salvia, and cut up in it bacon and add salt to suit the taste. Then cover that with dough and bake like bread in the oven.

5 c flour
1/2 lb bacon
3 T dried sage (or sufficient fresh sage leaves to cover)
about 1 3/4 c water
3 lb chicken, cut in half

Make a stiff dough by kneading together flour and water. Roll it out. Cover the dough with sage leaves and the sage leaves with strips of bacon. Wrap each half chicken in the dough, sealing it. You now have two packages which contain, starting at the outside, dough, sage, bacon, chicken. Put them in the oven and bake like bread (325deg. for 2 hours). We find the bacon adds salt enough.

The part of the bread at the bottom is particularly good, because of the bacon fat and chicken fat. You may want to turn the loaves once or twice, or baste the top with the drippings.

My Notes
The two-and-a-half cups of flour mixed well with the 7 ounces of water and formed a stiff and slightly sticky dough.  I rolled it out to somewhere between 1/8 and 1/4 inches thick, then cut it into four pieces to match the four chicken thighs.  Next I put the sage leaves around each piece.  I guessed at how much to do because the instructions said, "to cover", but I didn't want the sage flavor to be too strong.  What I did was fine and I could have added more without worry, I think.

I wish I had shaped each dough piece into a rectangle before putting on the sage leaves.  That would have made it easier to wrap the thighs when ready.

Next I added 1 1/2 strips of bacon to each portion and placed a thigh on the widest part of the dough.

With some stretching and creative patching, I encased each thigh in the dough.

Ready for the oven!

I baked them at the specified 325 degrees F for one hour and thought the dough needed a bit more time.  At this point juices were leaking out of the packets and the whole thing had the lovely scent of cooked bacon.  I gave it another 30 minutes (for a total of 1 hour, 30 minutes) and declared it ready.

You can see they didn't get very brown but I hoped the chicken was cooked all the way through.  It was and so was the bacon, although I wasn't sure at first because I am used to eating bacon that has been fried and this had a different texture.

The Verdict

Success!  We both liked it although I was not as fond of the dough casing as my guest was.  I mostly pulled the meat out of the dough and ate it that way.  My guest ate each bite of meat with the crust around it and enjoyed it.   

The flavor was meaty, slightly salty from the bacon, with a light sage flavor.  I would have been happy to add more sage or perhaps some other spices for variety.  The top of the crust was crisp and tender but the bottom was tougher and hard to cut through.  Next time I would attempt to keep the thickness even throughout and perhaps cook the packets on a rack so they didn't sit in their juices, which I think made the crust tough.

I had the leftovers a few nights later and thought it was even better reheated.  It seems like the crust had a chance to soften and that the flavors blended better.  I ate more of the crust this time around.

An Illusion Food -- "Deviled Eggs" for Dessert!

Illusion foods -- foods designed to fool the eye or the palate -- were very popular in the Medieval era.  I have several recipes that describe them but never tried any until today. 

This particular illusion food is of my own design.  The idea came from making a dish called "A White Leach" which is basically milk gelatine that is sweetened and flavored with rose water.  I have made it as a demonstration food and served it sprinkled with edible gold dust over the top.  People who tried it commented that it had the same texture as the whites of a hard-boiled egg.

This got my mind to contemplating the illusion of deviled eggs:  making the leach to look like the whites and then making a filling out of colored marzipan.  So here is my attempt for your culinary pleasure!

I could try this because I have an egg mold made by a gelatine company in the U.S. about 15 years ago.  I recently was told that an alternative is to use a blown eggshell with one end sealed off.

First, the recipe for the leach.  I got the recipe out of The Good Housewife's Jewel by Thomas Dawson, page 89.  These are recipes originally published in 1596 in England.

ISBN 1-870962-12-5

A White Leach

Take a quart of new milk and three ounces weight of isinglass, half a pound of beaten sugar; stir them together.  Let it boil half a quarter of an hour till it be thick, stirring them all the while.  Then strain it with three spoonfuls of rose water.  Then put it into a platter and let it cool, and cut it in squares.  Lay it fair in dishes, and lay gold upon it.

My redaction to work with the mold:

1 1/2 cups whole milk
1 1/2 packages of plain gelatine
3 tablespoons sugar
1/4 tsp rose water (optional)

plus corn syrup and some yellow food coloring

Put the milk in a glass measuring cup and heat it in the microwave about 2 minutes.  You want the milk boiling or nearly so.  Sprinkle in the gelatine and stir until the gelatine is dissolved.  This could take several minutes.  Add the sugar and rose water and stir until the sugar is dissolved.

Pour into the lightly oiled mold (a funnel helps) and refrigerate at least three hours.  While this is going on, make the filling.

The Filling   

7 ounces marzipan (I used store-bought)
3 drops of yellow food coloring
1 teaspoon light corn syrup

Oil your hands very lightly, then knead the marzipan with your hands to warm it up.  Flatten it out on a platter, then scatter the drops of food coloring and drizzle the corn syrup over the top.  Roll up the marzipan to capture the liquids inside it.  Knead it until the color is uniformly distributed.  If the marzipan does not feel very soft and pliable, add a little more corn syrup and continue kneading.  

Wrap the result tightly in plastic and place in a plastic bag.  Refrigerate until ready to assemble the eggs.

Assembly

Unmold the eggs and cut in half lengthwise.  Use a spoon to scoop out a small dent in the widest part of the egg half.  Do this for each half and set aside.

Take the marzipan and cut it into twelve pieces.  Warm a piece in your hand until it is pliable.  Roll it into a ball then hold it in the palm of your hand.

Using the other hand, gently twist the upper half of the ball to form a blunt point.  This makes the filling look like it was piped into the white.

Place the marzipan into the white.  Voila'!  Deviled eggs.  In medieval times, this was called "Farced Eggs."

 Keep cold until you serve it, which should be soon. 

My Notes

I took this to the Society for Creative Anachronism's West Coast Culinary Symposium as my contribution to the Friday night potluck.  I did all the preparation at home, which means the whites had to travel.  I kept whites and yolks in separate containers until it was time to assemble them at the site.  The whites didn't travel as well as I'd hoped and some had split or broken up a little. 

The next thing I noticed is that the filling appeared to be too heavy for the whites.  After an hour or two more whites had split apart.  This could have been because the whites got warm.  Also, when I ate one, I felt that there was too much filling for the amount of white.  I wanted more of a balanced flavor blend and the almond flavoring dominated. 

My solutions are two-fold.  First I think I would make the leach even firmer by using more gelatine in the milk.  Perhaps 2 packages for 1 1/2 cups milk.  Second I would use about half of the marzipan filling per egg.  The bonus part for this idea is that you can now make two dozen halves from one package of marzipan!  Just make a second batch of leach.


The Verdict

Success!

I liked it, which to me spells success.  The best part was that people at the potluck (who didn't know I made it) said they were fooled by the illusion.  Those who tried it said they liked it and the broken whites didn't bother them because sometimes the whites of deviled eggs break, too. 

Overall, I loved the flavor combination.  The rose water in the leach was delicate and not overpowering.  It was also so very lightly sweet that it almost didn't seem sweetened.  This was good because the filling was sweet.  The marzipan had a strong almond flavor which went well with the rose water.  The texture combination was interesting, too:  the smooth and cool white with the slightly grainy and firm filling. 

If you try this, please leave me a comment on this board telling me of your results.

Shrewsbury Eastertide "Cakes"

Sometimes judging a book by its cover turns out to be a worthwhile decision.  That's what happened when I came across The English Biscuit and Cookie Book by Sonia Allison.

Published by St. Martin's Press in 1983

I was perusing the cookbook collection in a used bookstore that was new to me.  It was almost time to leave when I saw this little, tan book tucked into the side of a crowded shelf.  On a whim, I grabbed it.  A few days later, I read it.  What fun!

In the introduction Ms. Allison writes,

The biscuit tin is to the English what the cookie jar is to Americans, and no British household would be complete without a store of assorted biscuits on hand for nibbling, as the mood takes one, with midmorning coffee, afternoon tea, and a light night drink of milk or chocolate to soothe away the cares of the day and induce sweet dreams laced with sugar and spice and maybe a sprinkling of nuts for good measure!

She categorizes the recipes as Rolled Biscuits, Unrolled Biscuits, Shortbread Selection (quite a selection!), Savory Biscuits, Petit Fours, and Specialty Biscuits.

The Shrewsbury Eastertide "Cakes" are on page 64, under Specialty Biscuits.  She points out they were mentioned in a publication from the mid-nineteenth century.

2 cups all-purpose flour
pinch of salt
1/4 tsp allspice
1/2 cup unsalted butter
1/2 cup light brown sugar (I packed it)
1 level teaspoon caraway seeds
1 medium egg (I used large)
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
2 Tbsp sweet sherry 

Gosh, I had to buy sherry.  What a pity!  : )

1.  Sift the flour, salt, and allspice into a bowl.  Rub in the butter until finely blended.  Add the sugar and caraway seeds.

2.  Beat the egg thoroughly with the vanilla extract and sherry.  Add to the ingredients in the bowl.

3.  Using a fork, mix to a soft dough.  Wrap in foil or plastic wrap.  Refrigerate for 45 minutes.

4.  Form into 24 small balls.  Arrange on 3 cookies sheets lined with wax paper or foil, first lightly greased.

5.  Press flat with the base of a tumbler dipped in flour, then prick with a fork.

6.  Bake until light brown, allowing 15 to 20 minutes in an oven preheated to 350 degrees F (180 degrees C).

7.  Cool on a wire rack.  Store in an airtight tin when cold.

My Notes

I used the wire whisk of my mixer to rub the butter into the flour mixture.  When ready, it looked like cornmeal.

The flavor combination of sherry and vanilla smells delicious!

I was concerned at first that I was using a large egg instead of medium.  I thought the dough might be too moist.  However I was surprised at how crumbly soft it was and then I worried it wasn't moist enough.  It did form a ball when squeezed, so I left it as it was before wrapping it.

The dough was still pretty delicate after chilling but held together well as I was rolling the balls and pressing it with the tumbler. 

Rolled, pressed, and pricked.

The Verdict
Success!  I liked them.  They are very much like a shortbread with a dominant flavor of caraway and the sherry, vanilla, and allspice in subtle support roles.  They are not very sweet, which was appreciated.  I preferred the thicker ones as they were a little bit more moist inside.

One batch was slightly overcooked, which means the edges were browner and the whole cookie drier.  That batch went to 17 minutes so I would recommend trying 15 minutes first.  Also the flavor was better when the cookies were completely cooled.

I'm not sure why these are recommended as Eastertide treats and I would offer them year-round.  They are "something different" from the regular cookies we have here in the U.S.

Hummos

Today's region of choice:  The Arab States.

The book:  The Arabian Delights Cookbook by Anne Marie Weiss-Armush, published in 1995.
 

ISBN 1-56565-219-3

It is a charming book because it explores "Mediterranean Cuisines from Mecca to Marrakesh" from the point of view of a woman who married into the culture and lived in it for eleven years.  During that time she learned the cooking and culinary traditions that her peers had absorbed in their childhood at their mother's knees.

Ms. Weiss-Armush's fresh perspective on an ancient culture brings insight to us all. 

She tells us that hummos, a silky protein-rich dip, is part of the mezzah:  "the fascinating array of small appetizers displayed on a multitude of miniature oval trays ... incredible in number and exciting in variety."

Mezzah means "half" and is supposed to suggest "half a dinner" but she is honest in pointing out that she rarely progresses past this phase.  "It is impossible to stop nibbling these wonderful specialties, and the appetite may be satiated rather than stimulated."  She lists savory pastries filled with cheese or meat, fresh or pickled vegetables, olives, bean salads, stuffed grape leaves, torn pieces of pita bread, and of course, dips like hummos.

One thing I noticed about her recipes for the mezzah is that many have just a few ingredients and a few simple steps for preparation.  This makes sense if you are the cook and need to prepare a variety for the afternoon meal.

I love hummos (in my area, spelled "hummus") but have always purchased it.  It just seemed right to learn how to make it so I can play with the flavors and have it handy for impromptu meals.

Hummos (page 33)

1 3/4 cups cooked chickpeas (garbanzo beans)
1/4 cup low-fat yogurt, water, or liquid in which the chickpeas were cooked
2 cloves garlic, crushed with salt
1/4 cup tahini (ground sesame seeds)
1/3 cup lemon juice

Garnish:  olive oil, paprika, cumin, black Middle Eastern olives, minced parsley

1.  Puree the ingredients in a blender or food processor, reserving a few whole chickpeas for garnish.

2.  Add additional tahini and/or lemon juice if necessary until you have achieved a flavor and consistency that suits your taste.  This texture should be thinner than mashed potatoes but with enough body to hold an edge.

3. Spread in an earthenware dish or an oval serving platter, running the side of a spoon around the edge to create a slight rim.  Drizzle with olive oil and garnish with the reserved chickpeas, paprika, cumin, and olives to add a bit of color.  Serve with Arabic bread.

Easy peasy!

The Verdict:

Success!  This couldn't be any easier.  Put the ingredients in the blender--I put the liquids in first to help get the garbanzo beans started--and blend until the whole mixture is smooth, creamy, and uniform in color.

The recipe as she gave it suited my tastebuds just fine.  I felt no need to add anything more.

I've never cooked with tahini before.  It is like a very liquid peanut butter and added a depth of flavor and a slight bitterness that was pleasant.  The lemon juice adds a sparkle and lightness to the overall flavor.

It was fun to sprinkle on the garnishes to make it look pretty.  I think if I was serving it to a crowd, I would have put the hummos in a shallow and wide dish, so everyone could get to it easily.

A dash across the 'net reveals that records of hummos go back as far as the 700s A.D.  The ingredients themselves are ancient but the idea of blending them into a dip is not lost to history.

This was so simple that I want to explore variations on the theme.  I've had a store-bought hummus that was made with white beans and had minced basil mixed in.  I swear to you it tasted like luscious, creamy pesto and I felt sinful eating it on crackers.  Not that I stopped, mind you.

April, 2014 Update:  One 15 ounce can of garbanzo beans held just the right amount for this recipe.  The kind I bought was just beans, water, and salt, so I used the liquid from the can as the required liquid and adjusted the amount of salt with the garlic.