Mermelada de manzana -- Apple Jam, a Pinedo recipe

It is spring time and my orange tree is full of fruit.  My Pakistani mulberry is producing well this year.  Other plants in my yard are leafing out and I know they will have fruit on them in a few months.  Fruit!  I'm so excited about it!

So that is what I was looking for when I skimmed over the Pinedo recipes.  I wanted to make something with fruit in it. (In case you don't know what I mean by the Pinedo recipes, do a search on this blog for the keyword "Pinedo.")

Many of her fruit recipes involved sugar, and lots of it.  Of course -- she was putting up jellies, jams, and other preserves to last the year, and she did not have refrigeration.  But as much as I love sweet food, I really like to let the flavor of the fruit come through.  This is why I don't can my fruit preserves, but I do like to freeze them.  Last week I made a mulberry and apple spread that had just a little sugar, a splash of lime juice, and a bit of cardamom to deepen the flavor.  It was lovely, especially as a side condiment to some grilled pork chops.

What I chose to make was her apple jam because it looked more like a chutney or compote than just jam, and it didn't have as much sugar as many of her other recipes.  There are a few recipes with the same title, and this one is on pages 162 - 163.

My Translation:

Apple jam.

         Six large, sour apples, chopped; two tablespoons of very fresh butter. If the apple is too dry, add four tablespoons of fresh water.

         When the apple is soft, add two cups of sugar, half a cup of honey, a cup of citron, two teaspoons of vinegar, the juice of two oranges and part of the yellow rind, a cup of raisins and another of currant, two teaspoons of cinnamon, a teaspoon of cloves, two teaspoons of pepper and a teaspoon of nutmeg.

 

Use one lemon

Ingredients as a list

6 large green apples

2 tablespoons butter

2 cups sugar

1/2 cup honey

1 cup citron (I used the zest of 2 lemons instead.  You might want to use less.)

2 teaspoons vinegar (I used apple cider vinegar)

juice from 2 medium oranges, and the zest from one

1 cup raisins

1 cup currants

2 teaspoons cinnamon

1 teaspoon cloves (I suggest less)

2 teaspoons pepper

1 teaspoon nutmeg

My Notes

My apples were not dry, so I did not add any water.  I started the butter melting in a big Dutch oven, then started coring and chopping the apples.  They were not peeled.  As soon as I chopped 1/4 of an apple, the pieces went into the butter to start sautéing.  Every time I added more, I stirred what was in the pot.

Once all the apples were tender, I added the other ingredients.

It is the wrong time of year to get citron, so I chose to use fresh lemon zest that was finely chopped.  I also shredded and chopped the orange zest.

Once the other ingredients were mixed well, I brought them just to a boil, then lowered the heat so they simmered.

I let uncovered pot simmer with an occasional stirring until the mixture was thick and starting to look a little dry.

Then I let it cool for a taste test.

The Verdict

Whoooo!  It is spicy!  I was a little worried that 1 teaspoon of cloves would be too much, and I think my worries were justified.  I think 1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon would have been better because the cloves really dominate the flavor profile.

Also, the flavors hadn't really blended much.  The lemon zest was still somewhat uncooked, and I did not like how I kept getting a chewy bite of it.  Basically, the whole mixture seemed like it needed more cooking.

So I added about 1 cup of water, stirred it in well, then got the mixture back to a simmer.  This time I put the lid on.  I let it simmer about 40 minutes more, stirring it sometimes and checking to see if the lemon zest was cooked all the way.

It was much better!  The zest was more subtle, the flavors more blended.  The cloves were still too much but they weren't off-putting.

My guest taster and I both had a small bowlful and accompanied it with a small glass of chardonnay.  Neither of us were very hungry, and this made a perfect little snack.  

It was spicy, sweet, fruity, savory (from the pepper, I think), tart, and floral from the two citrus zests.  I would love to have it as a condiment next to roast meat.  We also both agreed it would be a great topping on a scoop of quality French vanilla ice cream.  Success!

You can see that it is truly like a chutney (without the nuts) or a compote in that the individual chunks of fruit are still there.  Nothing went to a puree like in a regular jam, and the chunks were more dominant than what we typically see in a marmalade.

Miss Pinedo's recipe did not make the great quantity that is usual for when someone wants to can the results.  I think this is just the right amount to put out for a large gathering, like for a barbeque or picnic or potluck.  

This is a keeper, although I strongly recommend cutting back on the cloves and using the zest from one lemon.

Leeks with Fava Beans - a Roman Empire recipe

Sometimes parts of the universe come together in surprising ways.  Or, if you remember the 1970s at all, perhaps a bunch of biorhythms all aligned!

I have wanted a particular cookbook ever since I saw it at a culinary symposium.  It has translations of the Roman Empire recipes of Apicius along with modern redactions by the author.

ISBN 0-226-29030-1

So when I was wandering through a favorite used bookstore one day and saw it, I knew it would be coming home with me.

A few days later my friend, RK, gave me a box of ramps (wild leeks) from his home in West Virginia.

This is a small portion of what he shared with me.

And then another friend, MD, offered me some fresh fava beans from his garden.

The picture doesn't show it, but these pods are huge!

Well, when the universe sends such a clear message, I cannot ignore it.  On page 151, I found a recipe that uses both.

Leeks with Fava Beans  (Apicius 96)

Aliter porros:  [Si] in aquam elixati erunt, fabae nondum conditae plurimum admisce conditurae in qua eos manducaturus es.

Another recipe for leeks:  [If] they have been boiled in water, add a large quantity of unseasoned fava beans to the condiment in which you will eat them.

Author's redaction:

Boil the leeks in water, drain, and place in a serving bowl.  Season them with the sauce described in the previous recipe, and add cooked or raw fava beans.  You can also add fresh minced aromatic herbs if you wish.

The "sauce described in the previous recipe" is from Boiled Leek Salad, Apicius 93. 

Boil the leeks, slice them into rounds, and cover with a sauce made of olive oil, garum, and wine.  The quantities of the ingredients may vary according to taste; if you like the strong, salty flavor of garum, feel free to use it generously.  I find red wine is more successful here than white.

Homemade liquamen!

Garum is fish sauce, also often called liquamen.  I happen to have a great quantity of it from my previous experiments in making it.  Click here to see a post on it.

My Redaction

320 grams (11 ounces) of shelled fava beans

150 grams (5 1/2 ounces) of ramps, washed and trimmed of their roots

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/4 cup red wine (I chose pinot noir)

1 teaspoon olive oil

1 1/2 teaspoon liquamen

Add the beans to boiling water, bring the water back to a boil and cook until tender, about 3-4 minutes.  Drain and set aside.

Slice the ramps into pieces, add to salted, boiling water, and cook for 2 - 3 minutes.  Drain and add to the beans.

Mix the dressing, beating well to disburse the oil.  Pour over the ramps and fava beans -- put in what you think is right as you might not use all of it.  Toss well and serve.

This was about four servings.

My Notes

It was fun to shell the fava beans.  The pods' inner lining is white and fluffy, and it seemed like I was taking the beans out from their cozy little nest.  I used about half of the pods you see in the picture to get these beans.

I boiled them in plain water.

I really like this picture.

The ramps cleaned up well and were sliced into big bite-sized pieces.

After they were boiled in salted water, they were drained and mixed with the fava beans.

Then I whisked the sauce ingredients together, poured them over the veggies, mixed them well, and served them.

The Verdict

I served them as part of a simple yet tasty dinner.  The protein portion was pork that I had cured and smoked.  This was sliced paper thin (hooray for my new electric knife sharpener!) and dressed with a drizzle of lemon juice and some capers.

I also set out some homemade oatmeal bread, recipe courtesy of my friend GW.  I served the meal with the same pinot noir that I used in the dressing.

The fava beans and ramps combination was good.  I won't say "exceptional" or "outstanding" because I think I could have improved on my process.  

First, I tasted one bean for doneness before draining them.  The could have cooked a minute or two longer to get the bigger beans more tender.  Some were chewy and I didn't like that.  This convinced me that I would not use raw beans in this dish.  I cooked them for 3 minutes, which is why I put 3 to 4 minutes in my redaction.

Second, the dressing did not stick to the veggies.  Maybe I'm spoiled with today's availability of thickened sauces but I did wish to taste more of the dressing with a bite of the veggies.  I suspect I should have had the dressing ready to go when the veggies were all still hot.  I've noticed that some veggies absorb the flavors better when that happens.  I don't know for sure, but I would do that when making it again.

Third, both my guest taster and I thought it needed more salt.  Instead of making the dish saltier by using more fish sauce, we sprinkled a little salt over what was on our plates.  That worked out well.

Fourth, maybe the ramps would have had more flavor if they were only cooked 2 minutes.  They were good, and they weren't as potent as they are when raw, but I would have liked more of their rampy flavor.

The combination of hearty bread, cured meat, and ramps/fava beans was a good one.  It made for a solid and flavorful dinner, and we both enjoyed it very much.  

I thought the amount of liquamen in the dressing was just right.  It shifted the wine flavor to something different (liquamen adds salt and a good dose of umami).  The important part was that it didn't taste or smell fishy, a preference of my guest taster.  The olive oil added a good mouthfeel, too.

If I make this again (and I still have ramps and favas left over!), I would try it with some fresh herbs.  I guess that mint would be a good addition, and maybe some parsley or basil.  My explorations in historical cooking have taught me to really mix it up when using fresh herbs.  Don't be tied down to "traditional" uses or combinations!  Many go well together in surprising ways.

Success!

Roasted Quail, a Pinedo recipe

I have completed my translation of Encarnación Pinedo's book, El cocinero español, published in 1898. On page 69, I found a recipe I wanted to try:  Roasted Quail.

 Roasted quail.

         They are plucked, opened and cleaned inside, scorched over the flames, tied and covered with a slice of ham and a vine leaf*, and put on a spit, on the grill, or in the oven.

---

* The vine, or grape, leaf protects the quail from burning and also adds a sour flavor to the meat.  Use fresh, young leaves in the spring.

I was intrigued by this because it looked so simple -- no seasoning other than the ham and the grape leaf.  My grill was ready for action!

My Redaction

4 quail, cleaned and plucked

8 slices of thinly sliced deli-style ham

8 large, tender grape leaves

kitchen string

Preheat the grill to about 400 degrees F.

Wrap each bird in two slices of ham that overlap slightly.

Wrap again using one or two grape leaves, depending on their size and the size of the bird.

Tie the bundle with the kitchen string.

Cook over direct heat with the grill cover down.  Turn occasionally.

Remove when the breast meat is at least 140 degrees F, about 30 minutes.

Let rest for 5 to 10 minutes before serving.

My Notes

I had six quail but only enough ham to wrap four.  The other two were sprinkled with salt and pepper and wrapped with oiled foil.  They grilled alongside the others.

Here are the pictures of the birds being wrapped:

I tucked the legs up against the body as best as I could.

Leave the ham wrap ends open so the legs don't poke holes in the ham.

I didn't worry about the holes in the leaf wrapping.

One was tied in two directions.  Not really necessary, I think.

The temperature of the grill varied between about 350 degrees F and 400, depending on how long the lid was up while I was checking on or turning them.

Here is what came in from the grill:

Notice the scorching of the leaves.

The Verdict

I served it with a rice pilaf and a tossed green salad that had a lot of fresh herbs from my garden.

At first my guest taster and I weren't sure if we were supposed to eat the leaf or peel it off.  But it was stuck tightly to the ham and we definitely wanted to eat the ham.  So we just dug in.

My reaction:  quail are tiny!  There isn't a lot of meat compared to the amount of bones you encounter while cutting into them.  It was challenging to eat with a knife and fork.  After a little cutting experience, we both ended up eating them with our fingers.  

The taste was interesting.  The meat by itself had a ham flavor but the best part was a bite with meat, ham, and leaf.  It had the umami along with the salty from the ham and the acid bite from the leaf.  Sometimes the bite was just ham and leaf, which was good, too.  We both approved.

Success!

The scorched parts didn't really add any flavor.  Mostly they crumbled and became little black flakes on the plate and on our laps.  

I wanted to do a taste comparison with the foil-wrapped quail.

It was more steamed than grilled, but it was cooked all the way through and the meat was very moist and tender.  More moist than the leaf-wrapped birds.  But the flavor was not as good.  The salt and pepper were nice, however we preferred the ham and leaf seasoning.

Looking forward, I can say that I won't seek out quail for this recipe again.  They are just too small and boney.  However, I do think this would work well with Rock Cornish game hens, especially if they were stuffed with a chopped ham and grape leaf filling.  This might season the meat from the inside.  Of course, it would take more ham and leaves to accomplish the wrapping, and it would have to cook longer.  

Bartolomeo Scappi! Crostate with Roasted Kidney

When I first started really learning about historical food, especially during the Renaissance, I heard about this book:  The Opera of Bartolomeo Scappi:  The Art and Craft of a Master Cook.

What I could find was mostly pictures of the sketches he had of kitchen equipment of all sorts -- yes, I wanted it!  I could imagine myself playing with all of it.  What a dream!  It was only recently I learned of Terence Scully's translation and obtained a copy.  I think a book is a close as I will get to having the equipment, and today I decided to try one of his recipes.

ISBN 978-1-4426-1148-1

It will amuse you to know that I basically flipped through a few pages of this 780 page book and randomly stopped on one of them,  recipe #229:

To prepare crostate - that is, gourmand bread - with spit-roasted veal kidney.

     Get slices of day-old bread the thickness of the spine of a knife and toast them on a grill.  Get veal kidney, with its fat, roasted on a spit along with the loin.  Cut a little of the tenderloin away from the loin; let it cool a little, then beat it very small with knives, along with mint, sweet marjoram, burnet and fresh fennel - not having any fresh, use the little dried flowers - and add in pepper, cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg, sugar, egg yolks, orange juice or verjuice, and enough salt.  When the composition is made up, spread it out over the slices of toast.  Put the covered toast into a tourte pan without the slices touching one another.  Apply heat to the top of the lid and hot coals under the tourte pan, leaving it until the bread has absorbed a little of the grease and the mixture has firmed up.  Serve it hot, dressed with orange juice, sugar, and cinnamon.  You can also put fresh butter and melted pork fat into the tourte pan so the bread will be greasier.

     You can also cook it on a grill over a low fire, heating the top with a hot shovel or else with a tourte-pan lid.

I happened to have a kidney in the freezer and a need to use it -- this seemed like a great idea. 

My Redaction

1 loaf French bread, a day or two old

1 veal kidney, about 12 ounces by weight

1 piece pork tenderloin (mine was a little over a pound)

1 tablespoon fresh mint, finely chopped

1 tablespoon fresh marjoram, finely chopped

1/2 teaspoon fennel seed, crushed in a mortar

1/2 teaspoon ground pepper

1/8 teaspoon ground cloves

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg

1 tablespoon sugar

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 egg yolks

1/4 cup orange juice (slightly under ripe oranges, so sour)

olive oil

Dressing:  1/2 cup orange juice, 2 tablespoons sugar, and 1/4 t cinnamon

My Notes

I sliced the bread into 1/2 to 3/4 inch wide pieces, ignoring the ends.  I had 17 and used 15.

Then they were toasted to golden brown over direct heat on the grill.  Check them often because they can get scorched easily (experience here!)  I put them on a plate and set it aside.

I had a technical failure with my rotisserie, so I could not spit-roast the meat as I had planned.  My solution was to cook it on the grill:  Coat the kidney and the tenderloin with olive oil.  Make a flat-bottomed pan with shallow sides from a piece of foil and place over direct heat on the grill.  Put the kidney on that.  The pork goes onto the grill itself, near the direct heat but not over it.  Close the lid and cook (checking it and turning occasionally) until the kidney changes from red to brown and its juices are barely red or not red at all.  The pork should be cooked to a very light pink interior so it doesn't get dry. (I had to experiment with the process and the timing before I got everything cooked right.  I didn't document all the steps here, just what ended up working.)

Once the pork was cooked, I used about 4 ounces (estimated).  Both the kidney and the pork were cut into chunks then placed in the food processor.  I pulsed it until the meat was in small pieces, but not smooth or pureed.  

Small chunks to...

... small pieces

The meat went into a bowl and I added the spices and herbs.  I did not have burnet and I had no fresh fennel, but Mr. Scully's footnote said that the dried flowers implied using the seed, which I had.  Once that was mixed well, I added two beaten egg yolks.  This seemed moist enough but not be gooey.  Then I mixed in the orange juice, which made the whole mixture moist enough to spread.

I tasted it before spreading it on the bread.  The first taste was mostly of the meat and I didn't feel the spicing was right at all, so I added more to get the amounts listed in the redaction.  Now I could taste the spices and they seemed balanced, with nothing dominating, not even the meat flavor.  The meat was there but it did not overwhelm.

A rubber scraper was a good tool to spread the mixture onto the bread slices.  I wanted it reasonably thick, so it looked generous.

The direction to heat the top with a hot shovel has the modern equivalent of putting it under the broiler, which I decided to do.  Before I turned on the broiler setting, I preheated the oven to 300 degrees F while I was making the mixture, so the food would go into a hot oven for broiling.

Scappi's plate 9 gives us an idea of what he meant by a tourte pan in the first two rows here:

I chose a metal baking pan that I call a cookie sheet.  The bottom was lightly oiled.

Then the cookie sheet went under the broiler for 3 minutes.  This continued to toast the bread and add a little browning to the (already brown) meat mixture.  It seemed that the mixture firmed up.  Mostly it looked like the egg had cooked, which was my main goal.

Once out of the oven, I mixed the dressing and poured some over each piece.  The dressing is thin so it poured over the meat mixture but then soaked into the toast.

The Verdict

I served them hot with a spinach salad and a nice pinot noir.

I'll admit that I was hesitant to make this recipe because I am not typically a fan of organ meats.  To me they smell weird and taste "off."  So I took a bite, expecting to get that organ meat flavor.

I was surprised.  

The crunch of the bread went well with the soft and a little chewy of the meat mixture.  

The flavor was well-balanced -- meat and spice were just right.  Sometimes I got a little "burn" from the spices, and I was not sure if it was from the pepper or the cloves or both.  That made it very interesting to eat.

Different flavors touched the tongue as I was eating it -- little blasts of mint or spice or meat.

The dressing was a stellar idea, too.  It added moisture to the toast and the brightness of the acid from the orange juice.

My guest taster and I agreed that it hit all five of the basic flavors.  Really quite enjoyable.

We had a few where we put some of the spinach leaves on top.  This was good, too!

Even the leftovers, which we warmed up the next day, were tasty.  

I'll make it again soon and really look forward to it.  Success!

A Lemon Cordial Follow Up!

My most amazing, wonderful, awesome daughter read my previous post on the Lemon Cordial, made from an 18^th century recipe, that used milk in the process.  In doing so, she recalled an article from Cook’s Illustrated titled “The Key to Crystal-Clear Cocktails? Milk. (Really.)”  It was written by Camper English and published in December, 2016.

The article focused on an old technique to make a “milk punch”:

The base recipe for milk punch includes citrus juice or another acidic ingredient. Milk (usually hot milk) is added to the mixed cocktail, curdling the milk, and then the punch is strained to remove the curds. The process removes most of the color and cloudiness from the drink, clarifying it, and it preserves the cocktail from spoilage for months or even years if kept cool.

The recipe I followed required sliced lemons to be put in milk then heated until the mixture forms curds and whey.  This is strained, and the resulting liquid is mixed with sugar and brandy to form the cordial.  I expected large curds that were distinct from the whey (the recipe said to boil the milk until the whey was “very clear”) but I never saw that because the curds were all small.

I tried filtering out the curds through cheesecloth, but that didn’t work.  I decided to add the brandy and sugar while hoping the cordial would taste right.  The curds started settling out, and the whole appearance was not appealing.  It was then I decided to filter it using a cloth bag. 

The result was a very clear and delicately flavored cordial that tasted of brandy and lemon with a good mouthfeel from the sugar.  I noticed (but did not mention in the post) that the curds had taken on the color of the brandy, and that the cordial was lighter in color after it was filtered.

Mr. English continues with:

The concept of clarifying cocktails with milk might seem a bit odd today, but in the milk punch heyday—the 1700s through the mid-1800s—spirits would have been far rougher around the edges than those we enjoy today, and in addition to clarifying and preserving the drink, the process also softened the harsh flavor of the booze. The resulting drink is unctuous and silky, clear and only subtly milky, with softer, mellow flavors.

What a surprise!  In doing the wrong thing with the original recipe, I stumbled across an historical technique.

Mr. English also tells us:

The earliest known milk punch recipe, as reported by cocktail historian David Wondrich in his book Punch, dates to 1711, and is attributed to housewife Mary Rockett. That recipe calls for a gallon of brandy, five quarts of water, eight lemons, and two pounds of sugar. To it, two gallons of scalding hot “new milk” are added, and after an hour, it is strained through a flannel bag.

He goes on to report on the variations professional bartenders are exploring today:  heating the milk or not, trying a variety of milks (animal and nut), changing the order of the steps, and more.  We are also treated to the science underlying the process, to help us understand the importance of the curds in stripping out the tannins, for example.

The article is a great read and brought insight to me on the lemon cordial recipe.  I recommend reading it!

Now I wonder why the cordial recipe required straining the curds before adding the brandy.  I can understand adding the sugar after straining – otherwise it makes the liquid very thick and slows down the straining process.  If, as Mr. English notes, the brandy in the 1700s was “rougher around the edges than those we enjoy today”, it seems the cordial would taste better if the brandy also came into contact with the curds. 

But perhaps that wasn’t the goal.  Perhaps the goal was to infuse the whey with the lemon flavor, which happens faster than infusing the alcohol with the lemons.  Once it was mixed with the brandy and sugar, you had a nice beverage.

When I put the sliced lemons – pulp, white, seeds, and peel – into the milk, I wondered if the white would make it taste bitter.  Perhaps the curds removed the bitter, and that was another advantage of using milk. 

To say I was as pleased as punch to read this article is an understatement.

A Lemon Cordial - with milk

I was perusing a book in my collection that caught my attention (again) because it had nothing printed on the spine.  But it did have print on the front cover and that was A Book of Cookery.  It is an intriguing book because the author, Kimberly K. Walters, does historical reenactment, and she compiled these recipes from a variety of historical sources to aid her reenactment work.

ISBN 978-0-692-26980-0

Her focus is the 18th century, the American Revolutionary War, and George Washington, but she notes in the "Forword" that she sometimes took from sources just before and after that time when she felt it was appropriate.  

The book contains more than just recipes, which she properly calls "receipts."  It also offers information on how to choose good food items, lists of what items are in season "in the colonies", a detailed description of how and what to serve for dinner courses ("removes"), how the table is to be set, and descriptions of cooking equipment.

As someone who has experience in historical cooking reenactment, I would judge this book to be quite valuable to anyone who wants to learn how to be a Colonial American cooking reenactor.  All you would have to add is equipment, costuming, and a location in which to cook.  

I had fun reading through the recipes.  My goal was to find one that used lemons because my neighbor had left a bag full of them on my doorstep.  There were several recipes that I considered, especially the Lemon Gingerbread on page 190, but I decided to try the Lemon Cordial on page 260.  I have made many cordials and liqueurs before but never one that had milk in it.  I wanted to see what it was like.

Lemon Cordial

Cut six fresh lemons in thin slices, put them into a quart and a half of milk, boil it until the whey is very clear, then pass it through a sieve; put to this whey, one and a half quarts of French brandy, and three pounds of powdered loaf sugar; stir it till the sugar is dissolved - let it stand to refine, and bottle it; pare some of the yellow rind of the lemons very thin, and put a little in each bottle. (Randolph).

My Notes

I decided to scale the recipe down a little.  "A quart and a half" is 6 cups, so the proportions for 2/3 of the amounts are pretty straightforward:

4 lemons (washed!)

4 cups milk

4 cups brandy

2 pounds powdered sugar

After the lemons were sliced and the milk was added, I turned the heat onto high to get the cooking going.  

I notice the curdling started right away.  This is a good thing!  It is how you get the curds and whey.

You can see the curds forming.

Once I saw some bubbles forming in the milk, I turned the heat to medium low.  

And this is where I started running into trouble.  You see, I have made curds and whey before with milk and vinegar (click here to see the post), so I expected the curds to be big and to clearly see the whey.

But that didn't happen here.  I let the mixture simmer for quite a while (a few hours!) and never saw the whey separate as I expected.  After the lemons looked very cooked, I turned the heat off and thought about what to do.

The lemons have gone limp. 

The curds were all tiny.  There was whey but everything was mixed.  I decided to pass it through a strainer lined with cheesecloth, but I was not confident this would work.

And it didn't.  Very little liquid came through; it all looked like it was still captured in the curds and lemon.

Then I decided to use some more fresh milk (1 cup) to rinse the curds off of the lemon slices, with hope I could get all that to sieve out.  I used my hands to gently squeeze the slices and to wipe the curds off of them.  This got the curds off the lemons but it still would not get the moisture out of the curds.  I had a thick, creamy liquid now.  I threw away the lemon slices.

At this point I thought that I would just have to expect a creamy, curdy cordial.  Maybe that would taste good?  So I added the powdered sugar and the brandy, mixing well.

This is a one-half gallon container

I tasted it and it was good!  But I didn't think this was supposed to be the desired result.  The container sat on the counter overnight.  The next day I saw that the curds had begun to settle -- and it was forming layers of what looked like curds in liquid at the bottom, liquid alone in the middle, and a foam on the top.  It made me think of syllabub.  I was not happy with this.

Then it occurred to me.  I should strain it through a cloth bag!  This is what I did when I made liquamen and it worked well to remove very fine particles.  Why did this take so long for me to consider?

Straining it through the bag worked really well.  The liquid was clear!

Unfiltered on the left.  Filtered on the right.

It took two days to let it all filter through.  Patience is a virtue here.  I felt confident that I was getting all the cordial through the bag.  In the end, I had just a little under 1/2 gallon of cordial.

The Verdict

The flavor was a lovely blend of lemon and brandy.  It did not strike my taste buds hard with lemon and it did not taste entirely of lemon.  It was definitely a blend.  The mouthfeel was good - enough of a syrupy texture to make me feel like I was sipping something substantial.  My guest taster and I both liked it very much and would love to have it either before or after a meal, or to go with some cheese and fruit as part of a dessert.

When I made curds and whey previously, I warmed up the milk before I added the acid for curdling.  Perhaps I should have done that here.

I should have filtered just the curds and whey through the bag before adding the sugar and brandy.  I think it would have gone faster as it wouldn't have been as thick. 

I did throw off the proportions a little by using the one extra cup of milk to rinse the lemons.  I think it curdled a little.  I doubt it affected the taste much.

I honestly don't know why the milk was important.  When I made lemon liqueur previously, I just soaked lemon peels in vodka for a few months, strained them out, and added sugar.  This worked just fine and the soaked peels were saved as zest for cooking.  

Of course this cordial took only a few days and it was ready for drinking right away.  I suspect it will improve with aging, which tends to smooth the flavors out.  I guess that the whey might add some thickness or improve the mouthfeel of the finished product.  This is all guesswork!

I call it a success.  I have enough to last a while so it will continue to age in the cupboard.  I need to add some lemon zest to it as per the recipe's recommendation.

Just so you know, "cordial" and "liqueur" are often used interchangeably.  They are both typically vodka or brandy infused with flavors, and sweetened.  Cordials are sometimes considered to be sweeter than a standard liqueur.  This was definitely sweet but not overwhelmingly so.

Empanadas de calabaza sazonas -- Seasoned Pumpkin Empanadas

I had a wonderful sweet pumpkin sitting around and the time to make something with it.  I recalled that Miss Pinedo had some recipes involving pumpkin empanadas, so I decided to give it a try.  I have never made empanadas before, but I have eaten some with great enthusiasm.

From pages 91 and 92 in her book, I found and translated:

Empanadas--Dough for.

         To a pound and a half of flour, put two egg yolks and one white, a little bit of fat and salt: stir everything with cold water, knead well, and when it is of a regular temper, form the puff pastries, fill them, and put in the oven. 

Seasoned pumpkin empanadas.

         Put the pumpkin in large pieces to cook, and after cooked it is removed from the heat. It is mashed well and passed through a sieve, seasoning it with ground cinnamon and a very little clove and sugar.

         The dough is stuffed, folded, and crimped; cook them in the oven.

Time to experiment!

I didn't take pictures of the pumpkin cooking process, so I will just describe it:  I cut the pumpkin in half, scooped out the seeds and strings, then cut it into quarters.  The pieces went into a big kettle to steam cook:  they rested on a pierced metal stand that had water underneath.  The water got to a slow boil (just enough to produce some steam) and I cooked the pumpkin for about an hour with a lid on the pot.  I checked it regularly to see if I needed to add more hot water (I did a few times) and to see if the pumpkin was tender all the way through.  

Then I turned off the heat, removed the lid, and let the pumpkin cool so I could handle it easily.  Using a spoon, I scraped the flesh off the shell.  The flesh went into the refrigerator until Iit was time to make the filling.

My Redaction

Dough:

I found that 1 1/2 pounds of flour was about 5 cups. 

5 cups flour (plus a little extra as needed)

2 egg yolks

1 egg white

7 ounces of fat (I used about 1/2 vegetable shortening and 1/2 butter)

1 1/2 teaspoon salt

cold water

Pulse the flour, egg yolks and white, salt, and fat together in the food processor until mixed.  Add cold water and run the processor until the dough comes together into a ball.  Remove from bowl and knead gently.  Wrap or put into a covered container and let it rest in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes.

Basically, I treated it like a pie crust.

Filling:

The pumpkin chunks were put in a deep kettle and pureed with a stick blender.  I estimated it to be about 7 cups of puree.

7 cups pumpkin puree

1/2 cup sugar

1 teaspoon cinnamon

2 pinches cloves

Gently warm the puree, adding in the other ingredients and stirring well.  Allow some time for the flavors to blend and let cool. It should be very thick.  

Before pureeing

After pureeing, and with the sugar and spices.

Making the empanadas:

Roll out the dough, cut into rounds, put a spoonful of filling on the dough.  Fold and crimp the edges.

Bake at 375 degrees F for 20 - 25 minutes, until golden brown.

My Notes

I wanted to try my nifty little gadget that is supposed to make beautiful dumplings like empanadas.  

I rolled the dough to between 1/8 and 1/4 inch thick and used one part of the gadget to cut the circles.

The other part of the gadget is what folds and crimps the dough.

The dough sits on top and the filling sits in the middle.

It took some experimenting to get the dough thin enough and to find the right amount of filling to put in.  Too much filling squished out of the dough when it was folded over and crimped.  This is too much filling and the dough is too thick:

This is better on the dough thickness (although I kept trying to make it thinner) and about right on the filling quantity.

The extra dough tears off easily. All the scraps that didn't have filling smeared on it got rerolled and cut.

They were so cute on the baking sheet!

Before baking, some batches were sprinkled with sugar.  Other batches has a little cream brushed on top and were sprinkled with cinnamon sugar.  And sometimes I just put ginger sugar on top.

This is cream with cinnamon sugar.

I had problems with them opening up, both before and during baking.

Look at the one at the top.  It is opening up.

Not the result I wanted.

I also tried sealing them up with my fingers instead of using the gadget.  I also tried brushing water along the edges to help them seal.

None were very successful, although I did think of open clams or oysters when I looked at them (no pearls, though).

The Verdict

I kept making empanadas until I ran out of dough.  I still had filling left over.  

So some were open and some were closed and I tasted both kinds (and all of the toppings!).  

They were good!  I liked the thinnest dough with the most filling -- not surprising because the filling was the best part.  The pumpkin flavor came shining through and it was lightly sweet.  It had just enough spice to keep it from being bland; it was a good balance with the pumpkin.

The dough needed to be crisper, I thought, but it still did the job.  Not heavy in any way.  It just didn't have much crunch.

The ones eaten after the first day were heated until the outside crisped up a little and got more brown.  This was fine. 

I will call them a success for my first attempt.  And I forgot to take a picture of any in a decorative way.  

The leftover pumpkin filling got turned into a savory soup with corn, onions, and pieces of chicken.  It was really, really tasty.

I think if you wanted to put in more spice, you could do so and it would still be good.  I was really looking for the pumpkin flavor, which influenced my measurements.  A really cinnamon-y filling would be fine.