Rice Cooker Chicken Pulao (Spiced Pilaf)

If you had to explain the difference between chocolate cake and brownies to someone who wasn't familiar with either, what would you say?

I don't know about you, but I would struggle.  Cake is... well, it's cakier.  Brownies are... I suppose they're just as brown...  and as chocolatey.  They're fudgier than cake, that's for sure, but not as fudgy as fudge.  You can have very cakey brownies and very fudgy brownies, and yet we don't describe either cake or fudge as being brownie-like.  It's all very confusing to explain because defining either relies on contrasting it with the other.

This is, perhaps, a bit like the difference between biryani (rice with bits of veggie and possibly meat) with pulao (also rice with bits of veggie and possibly meat).  As best as I can understand it from reading a few dozen recipes and explanations out there, biryani is denser, usually spicier, and when you layer everything together the rice is only par-boiled (half-cooked), leaving it to finish cooking alongside whatever other stuff you throw on top of it.

Pulao, on the other hand, shares linguistic roots with plov (the first Russian dish I ever learned to cook) and pilaf.  Pulao is said to be easier to cook because you don't have to layer anything, you don't have to switch pots when the rice is half-cooked, and the mix-ins are just thrown together willy-nilly.  (But then the recipe I have for plov involves layers, too, so who knows.)

By those definitions this recipe, based purely on the fact that I don't half-cook the rice first, is pulao.  Whereas biryani prides itself on every bite being a little different, pulao is just a pile of food that doesn't really worry too much about appearances.  If they were people biryani would be the high maintenance one in Jimmy Choos and pulao would be in running sneaks with its hair in a messy bun.

We're kindred spirits, me and pulao.

So while this dish is very flavorful and features a lot of the same spices as biryani, and even in a lazy sense is layered in the rice cooker, I'm going to call this a pulao.  In the end it's probably something like cakey brownies -- it's technically one while closely resembling the other.

All that said -- beyond the how of cooking them -- content is pretty much open to your tastes.  Don't like meat?  Leave it out!  Want a ton of veggies, or different veggies, or different spices?  Whatever makes you happy, that's what needs to go into your pilaf.  Heck, Doc puts chicken nuggets and frozen peas in Uncle Ben's and calls it a day.

Let's get down to it, shall we?

Rice Cooker Biryani Pulao (Spiced Pilaf)

Total Real Time:  30ish minutes to make the mix-ins, 60 minutes in the rice cooker.
Weirdest Spice:  ground mace.

One of my favorite things about this recipe is that if I've got leftover chicken (or lamb, or whatever) and some frozen veggies, I'm looking at 20 easy minutes of active time and then I plop it all in the cooker and forget about it.  Plus the rice cooker keeps things warm indefinitely so I can make it in the afternoon and it's still hot when Doc gets home from work or a night out.

Step one is to soak and wash your rice.  Thirty to sixty minutes in warm (not hot) water, then rinse your rice in a fine mesh strainer.  Why?  Because this is the difference between unsoaked/unwashed rice (left) and grains that've been given the red carpet treatment (right):

Notice how the ones on the left are not only a dingy color, they're less plump?  Filthy rice is really gross, yo.  Soaking your rice lets it absorb some water so that they cook more evenly and don't dry out as much.  It's the big secret to fluffy rice.  So put your rice on to plump while you take care of the meat & veggies.  We'll come back to it in a bit.

If you don't have leftover chicken on hand you can pop a chicken breast or two into the oven at 350F for 25 minutes (roughly, be sure to check the temp with a thermometer).  Whatever spices make you happy are a-ok, or just throw on a little salt & pepper on and be on your way.  I used some pre-mixed tandoori spice.  Or you can throw together your own tandoori mix if you have the spices on hand: here's a tandoori mix recipe that uses just powdered spices, and here's one that uses whole spices you have to grind yourself (I use a dedicated grinder -- not the same one I use for coffee -- on those occasions when I have to grind my own blends).  But let me stress that tandoori spice was just what I felt like using at the time and can just as easily be subbed for anything or nothing.

 If the amount of effort I wanted to put into this could be summed up in a word, it would be "meh."

If you're making chicken / Meat of Your Choice in the moment, use the time while it's in the oven to make the veggie mix.  I used onions + whatever whatever I reached first on the freezer door:

Onions & more onions.  Oh, and apparently liced mushrooms?

Much like our turkey curry and lentils excursions, this starts with Oil of Your Choice on medium-high heat and 1 teaspoon of cumin seeds.

I used olive oil, you can use whatever you like.

Thirty to sixty seconds should be sufficient to start roasting the cumin seeds.  Then throw in one onion cut into fine julienne strips.

No need to worry about fancy, this is just a way to say "long, thin strips."  To remember what julienne is, I picture a woman named Julianne who is tall and thin.  ...if that helps.

Mix the onions up so that they're coated in the oil and cumin seeds and saute them on medium-high heat for maybe 5-10 minutes, or until they're as brown and caramelized as you like.  No need to get too worried about them since we'll be boiling them with the rice in the cooker.

Next add in a generous dollop of our old friends, ginger and garlic pastes.

Mix that around, give it 2-3 minutes to heat up, and then add in whatever other veggies you want.  I used spinach, bell pepper, jalepeno pepper, and mushrooms.  What we're making here is a stir-fry that's going to go atop the rice, so if you've got something you enjoy in your stir-fry add that here.  Frozen is just as good as fresh.  As you can see here I've got a mix of both to use up whatever I had on hand:

You can see the frost sticking to some of those.  That added a bit of cooking time for me to get rid of all the water that oozed out of the frozen veggies.  If you use fresh or canned vegetables you might not need as much time.  About 10 minutes was plenty to cook off most of the water, at which point I added in spices that were inspired by biryani:  3/4 teaspoon cinnamon, 1/8 teaspoon ground clove, 1/4 teaspoon mace, 1 teaspoon cumin, 1 teaspoon coriander powder, and 1/2 teaspoon turmeric.  For those that follow the link there, you'll notice I cut the spice list in about half.  You can cut it further, or add your own.  Heck, if you wanted to try a version with oregano, rosemary, and thyme, you could do that instead.  Again, this is your stir-fry.

The spices will help to absorb any remaining liquid in the mix.  The reason you want to get this as dry is possible is so that it doesn't throw off your rice measurements later.

What is mace, you ask, and is it necessary?  If you're wondering if it's the same stuff in mace spray, it is not.  Mace-the-spray is named after the old-timey spiked weapon knights used to carry and is made from hot peppers (hence the other name, pepper spray).  Mace-the-food is a warm, peppery spice that's actually made from the bark-like hull that surrounds a nutmeg seed, which is why it sometimes makes an appearance in things like pumpkin pie blends.  And no, it's not necessary in this dish.  You could add a dash of black pepper or allspice instead if you want, or leave it out altogether.

Okay, so 3-5ish minutes should be enough to "cook" your spices.  (The idea of "raw" spices still weirds me out.)  Sometime in this process your chicken probably dinged, didn't it?  Let it sit long enough to cool, and then use two forks to shred it.  Or heck, dice it.  Whatever.

Again, "meh."

So now your veggies and your meat are done.  Time to turn back to the rice.  Drain it, make extra sure you've rinsed it until the water runs clean, and then plop it into your rice cooker.  I used 1.5 cups of basmati rice.

You'll want to go by whatever proportions your cooker calls for when it comes to rice: liquid.  Mine calls for 1.5 cups of liquid to 1 cup of rice for white rice, so I used about 2.25 cups of liquid, minus a tablespoon or two of liquid to compensate for the moisture in the veggies and chicken.  (Too much liquid will make your rice gluey.)  I used chicken stock.  You could easily swap out water or vegetable stock here.

On top of that I poured first the veggie mix:

Followed by the chicken, a teaspoon of mint leaves, a bay leaf, and 2 teaspoons of coriander (cilantro).  All I had was the frozen stuff, normally I'd use fresh cilantro.

I used to throw in a pinch of saffron here, but I've found that I can't taste it over the other strong spices and since it doesn't come cheap I don't really bother any more.

That's the end of the effort part!  I closed the lid and switched it on.  Now, my rice cooker is kind of fancy, so it has a bunch of different settings.  I've found that when making rice-with-stuff-in-it the "Mixed Rice" setting works best.  You may have to play around with yours to get it just right.

Which brings me to my next point while we wait the hour or so it takes for the pilaf to cook:  what if you don't have a rice cooker?  Unless you eat rice pretty often you probably don't have/need one.  If you do have one but you're not sure what to do with it other than plain rice, let me direct you to the late great Roger Ebert's cookbook.  Otherwise, my best guess is that all this will work equally well with a typical stovetop rice cooking method, though that's untested so you'll have to be sure to let me know any tips you have to share if you do it that way.

Ding, rice is done!

Let it sit for 5-10 minutes or so before you take the cover off or stir it.  I've found that really helps keep the rice from getting gummy.

Be sure to pick out the bay leaf before anyone who might complain about it sees it.  That is, if you have someone like that in your house.

And that's it!  It kept the layers, more or less, so I suppose you could call it a biryani if you wanted to (but I don't):

It's much less attractive once you mix it up and serve it out, unfortunately.

Next up is a true beginner's recipe: making your own stock in the slow cooker.  Stay tuned.

Rice Cooker Biryani Pulao (Spiced Pilaf)

Ingredients:

• 1.5 cups of uncooked basmati rice
• 5-6 cups warm tap water
• 2 chicken breasts
• 1-2 teaspoons tandoori powder
• 1 teaspoon oil
• 1 teaspoon cumin seeds
• 1 onion, sliced thinly
• 1.5 teaspoons ginger paste
• 1.5 teaspoons garlic paste
• 1/4 cup each of vegetables of choice (e.g. spinach, bell pepper, chili pepper, mushroom
• 3/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1/8 teaspoon ground cloves 
• 1/4 teaspoon ground mace
• 1 teaspoon cumin powder
• 1 teaspoon coriander powder
• 1/2 teaspoon turmeric powder
• 2 cups + 2 tablespoons stock or water (or adjust according to your rice cooker's instructions, subtracting 1-2 tablespoons to compensate for the mix-ins)
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 teaspoon mint leaves
• 2 teaspoons coriander leaves

Directions:

1. Rinse rice under warm tap water using a fine mesh sieve.  Place rice in warm water bath for 30-60 minutes while cooking chicken and vegetable mix-ins.
2. Coat chicken breasts in tandoori powder.  Bake at 350 degrees F for 25 minutes or until chicken reaches 165 degrees.  Set aside to cool, then shred or dice.
3. While chicken is baking, heat a frying pan on medium high heat.  Add oil, allow to heat until shimmering.
4. Add cumin seeds, roast 30-60 seconds until sizzling and fragrant.  Add onions.
5. Saute onions 5-10 minutes.  
6. Add ginger & garlic pastes, saute another 2-3 minutes.
7. Add remaining vegetables, saute until soft and only a small amount of liquid remains in the pan.
8. Add cinnamon, cloves, mace, cumin, coriander, and turmeric and heat for an additional 3-5 minutes or until the remaining liquid has evaporated.  Turn off heat and set aside.
9. Drain rice and rinse again in warm tap water using a fine mesh sieve until water runs clear.  
10. Place rice in rice cooker and cover with chicken broth.
11. Gently lay vegetable mix on top of rice.  Do not mix.
12. Layer chicken on top of vegetables.  Again, do not stir or mix the layers.
13. On top of this add the mint, coriander, and bay leaf.  The bay leaf should be under the liquid layer, meaning it may need to be pressed down into the layers so that it is in the broth.
14. Cover the rice cooker and set for one cycle.  If your rice cooker has multiple settings, use the one for white rice or for mixed rice, if available.
15. When the cycle is done, allow the rice to sit for 5-10 minutes untouched, then fluff the rice with a fork or rice paddle to mix the layers.

石狩鍋 - Ishikari Nabe (Miso Winter Stew)

The first week of January is one of my favorite times of the year, and possibly my only favorite part of winter.  Normally I'm an autumn girl.  Give me cider, foliage, crisp apples, and a fresh harvest any day!  Yet back when I lived in Japan I started a tradition with myself that I've kept up more or less most years since.

This time of year I like to take a day or two to unplug from everything and do a kind of mental & physical detox (yes, I know "detox" is a ritual not a scientific or medical fact).  But New Year is all about ritual, isn't it?  It's about starting over.  There's a Japanese tradition of cleaning out the house just before the New Year so that you start with a nice clean home.  So extending that, in a sense, to mind and body appeals to me as well.  As part of that I often take a trip the first weekend of January to someplace that is, simply, away.  I turn off everything, I disengage from everyone.  I am mindful of what I eat -- moreso than usual -- to make sure there is as much fresh, healthy food as possible.  It's purely ritual, yes, but one that brings me peace and a sense of newness for the year.  It's my own deeply personal Thanks-giving.

It started almost by accident one year when I took a trip to a little hot spring resort in a forsaken part of northern Japan called Aoni Onsen.  From where I lived* -- a place already deep in the frozen, forgotten north -- I had to take a bullet train, three local trains, two buses, and a snowmobile to get to the inn.  By design it is lodged up in a snow-covered mountain that has no electricity.  Everything is cooked by fire, seen by kerosene lamp.  It's a perfect spot for a little soul-searching, and the food!  The food!  I did it the first year, 2006, because I wanted to get away and travel at this time of year is comparatively cheap since everyone's already done their holiday traveling.  I loved the experience so much that I kept it up afterward for as long as I lived in Japan, and then in B&Bs or other remote locations once I returned to the States.  So when I think of this time of year I inevitably think of starkness.  Of a steamy bath by snowfall and candlelight.

Something else that I associate with this time of year is miso stew.  If you've ever been to any place that served sushi or Japanese food (even teppanyaki), you've probably had "miso soup" that consisted of powdered miso flavoring and reconstituted tofu.  Usually it's vaguely beige, lukewarm, watery broth with little bits of seaweed floating around in it.

What I'm talking about here is something heartier, something winter-ready.  What I'm calling miso stew is in Japanese called nabemono, or just nabe (nah-bay).  It's "stuff" (the mono part) that's simmered in a donabe, or earthenware pot.  You could also call this dish hotpot.  Around this time of year I make  Ishikari nabe, or Hokkaido-style hotpot, at least once a week.

To give you some context, Hokkaido is as far north as it gets in Japan before the chain of islands turns into Russia.  It's enormous, cold, full of cows and potatoes, and not very densely populated.  Think of it as the Maine of Japan.  It's known for dairy, spuds, a life-changing cookie and -- to help everyone deal with the weather -- beer and sake.

Ishikari is a river that passes through Hokkaido, and the salmon stew that shares its name features the kind of cold-weather foods one would expect from a such a place.  I love it because it's one of the few soups out there to feature salmon, one of my all-time favorite foods.  You can make it with anything, though, you're certainly not limited to salmon or even fish at all.  Below you'll see a large list of things one can make into nabe.

Remember the drill?  Scroll to the bottom for the concise, picture- & commentary-free recipe.

*Trivia:  as of this posting, the Wikipedia article for Ohasama, Iwate is the one that I wrote back in 2006.  I'm probably also the only person to read it since it was written.

Ishikari Nabe - Miso Winter Stew

Traditionally, nabe is prepared tabletop in an earthenware pot called a donabe.  There is nothing in the world preventing you from using a regular soup pan.  If you do use a clay nabe pot, just be sure to always keep the bottom dry (to prevent cracking) when you turn on the heat.  I bring mine up to heat slowly just to be extra careful, but you don't have to.

Mine is technically a "two-person" pot, but honestly I find that one pot will last me most of a week.  I can and will eat nabe every day if given the opportunity.

In terms of what you put in the soup, nabe is all about your own tastes.  For Ishikari nabe in particular there seems to be a consensus of salmon, potato, tofu, spinach, and mushrooms (particularly enoki) as the base.  In addition to these there can be any number of seasonal foods.  A partial list of options I found based on a dozen or so different recipes in both English and Japanese were: corn, carrot, daikon radish, leeks, scallions, shrimp, parsnip, rutabaga, cabbage, napa cabbage, bok choy, burdock (called gobo in Japanese), shrimp, and even chrysanthemum (shungiku).  Your instincts here about what would go in a winter stew will serve you well.

For this recipe I had salmon plus a small handful each of: carrot matchsticks, shredded leek, cubed red potato, sliced parsnip, cubed firm tofu (rinsed & drained), a mushroom blend, and spinach.

Place the salmon into the pot first:

Surrounded by all of the goodies except for the spinach:

The stew base is miso soup, Real Style.  Miso soup has two main components: a fish stock called dashi and a soybean paste called miso (hence the name).  You can buy miso paste sometimes even in regular grocery stores.  It tends to hang with around the wonton wrappers and tofu.  Now, I happen to buy my miso paste with the dashi (fish, usually tuna) flavoring already in it.  If you'd like to make your own dashi, there are several options:

1. Boil up some leftover fish bones/heads to make a true seafood stock (hardest, best flavor);
2. Do it Japanese-style with tuna flakes and seaweed (medium difficulty, close second-best flavor); or,
3. Use the instant stuff, called hondashi (easiest, but artificial flavor).

Just a few of the options.

If making a separate dashi isn't in your schedule (understandable), you can also opt for the instant miso soup found in the Asian section of most grocery stores:

Keep in mind when you go to buy instant miso soup (the stuff that's "just add water") or miso paste (where you have to add the seafood stock) it comes in two flavors:  white (shiro) and red (aka).  The instant soup mix is also likely to have some stuff floating in it, like seaweed and dehydrated tofu.  The instant's not that bad, really, and honestly I've used it on many a lazy afternoon.  When I use instant I like to mix half white and half red for variety.

If you're going the miso paste route, then about 2 tablespoons of shiro (white) miso is what I used.  You'll need to mix it up with some hot water to dilute it before putting it into the stock.

Hot water makes it easier to dissolve.

Allllmost there...

You can also do this in the soup ladle without using a separate bowl, but that's harder to photograph.

Cover your ingredients with dashi (if using) or water (if dashi is already in your miso paste or if using instant), and add in the miso flavoring:

Be very, very sure the bottom of your pot is totally dry before you switch on the heat in order to prevent cracking.  I do the opposite of the normal simmer approach:  I start on low heat for 10 minutes to warm up the pot (again, to prevent cracking) and then turn it up to a medium or medium-high for another 20 minutes or so.  Usually about 30-40 minutes of total stovetop time is more than enough.

Fish is done when it flakes apart.  It doesn't actually take 30 minutes for the fish to cook all the way through, so if you like your veggies crunchier or if you have sushi-grade fish (i.e. safe to be eaten raw -- be sure to check first!) you can shave off some cook time.

Next I take it off the heat and toss a handful of spinach on, then re-cover it.  (Note:  donabe lids get really hot, so use a potholder.)

About 5 minutes is all it takes for the steam to wilt the spinach to my liking.  If you like yours more thoroughly cooked, go ahead and toss it in with the rest of the veggies at the beginning.

And that, my dears, is that!

It was realllllly hard to get pictures of this without the lens fogging.

This can be served over pretty much any kind of noodle.  Udon and konnyaku noodles are popular choices (also called shirataki, konnyaku noodles are gaining popularity here Stateside lately).  Just be sure to boil the noodles separately and ladle the stew over it, or else they'll soak up all the liquid and you'll have a noodle dish rather than a stew with noodles in it.   I often have mine just alongside plain rice, or sometimes I mix the two together like a savage.  Either way it's delish, and truly one of my all-time favorite comfort foods.  I could eat this every day for the rest of my life and die happy.  Really.

Look at all those colors!

I've seen some recipes add butter, milk, or sake at this point to add some depth to the flavor and as a nod to the dish's Hokkaido roots.  I never do, but nothing's stopping you if you want to.

I added a little pinch of scallions at the end, just for fun.

Ishikari Nabe - Miso Winter Stew

Ingredients (adjust amounts and options to your taste):

• Used in this recipe:
• salmon fillet (skin can be left on if desired)
• 1 small red potato, cubed
• 1/4 cup diced firm tofu
• 1/4 cup mushroom blend
• 1/4 of a parsnip, peeled and cut into disks
• 1/4 cup fresh spinach (could sub frozen)
• 1 small leek, shredded
• 1 scallion, diced
• 5 baby carrots, cut into thin matchsticks
• 2 tablespoons miso paste with dashi flavoring + water
• could sub dashi/seafood stock + miso paste, OR
• instant miso soup mix + water
• Additional options:
• frozen corn
• daikon radish, peeled and cut into disks
• cabbage, napa cabbage, or bok choy
• burdock root (gobo)
• enoki mushrooms
• rutabaga
• chrysanthemum (shungiku)
• sake
• butter
• milk

Directions:

1. Place the salmon filet in the bottom of the pot.  Pile all veggies except for the spinach on top.
2. If using miso paste:  dissolve the miso paste into hot water. 
3. Cover the vegetables with water or dashi stock (if using), and add either miso paste or instant miso soup mix.  Cover.
4. After ensuring the bottom of the pot is completely dry, turn the heat on to low for 10 minutes to allow the pot to warm up.  
5. Turn the heat up to medium and allow to cook for an additional 20 minutes, or until liquid is boiling and fish is thoroughly cooked.
6. Remove from heat, add spinach, and re-cover. Beware of hot lid if using donabe. Allow spinach to wilt, approximately 5 minutes.
7. Serve over noodles or with rice.

The F-Word (A Bread Recipe)

 Some of us -- and I'm not mentioning any names here -- learned to hate the F-word at a terrifyingly young age.

Recently I've come to terms with the F-word being just a word.  If other people have a problem with it, if it makes them uncomfortable, if they choose to be rude about hearing it or rude about saying it, if the thing that it represents is something they have hang-ups about... these are not my problem.

If you're reading this, chances are you've been living in fear of the F-word, too.  You use it as an insult, or you dread hearing it when you're out in public.  It takes away all social value from the target, it gives the speaker a sense of power, and yet to onlookers the person who says the F-word just looks like an idiot.

You know the word I mean, right?  FAT.

Cripes, it's even an offensive shape on the page.

So you can understand why when every duck recipe I saw over New Year's used the F-word in a nice way, when they talked about the joys of rendering it and using it to fry potatoes (truly French fried potatoes, mind you), even to bake with, you can understand why I was so confused and alarmed, right?  FAT is bad.  It's evil.  Morally inferior.  If you use it, heaven forbid if you are it, then there is no lower thing.

But hang on.  We use fats all the time.  Oils, even vegetable and olive oil, are fats.  Omega-3s, which are good for you, those are fats.  Now don't get me wrong, I'm not suggesting you need duck fat at all in your diet.  But maybe, just maybe, it wasn't a sin to render it or use it.  I wanted to know more about where duck fat clocks in when compared to other fats, so I did a little research to get a handle on it all.  It turns out that duck fat is closer to butter than olive oil and has a comparable number of calories to butter (no surprises there), but actually has less saturated fat than butter and fewer calories than olive oil.

Does that mean you should replace all your butter with it?  Nope.  But neither is using it in one or two recipes a year going to kill us.  So I let curiosity get the better of me and swapped out butter for duck fat in a simple Italian bread recipe.  The result?  Not too shabby!  It had a savory kind of flavor that is unusual in plain bread, making it a nice accompaniment to a soup I'd made out of some leftover Fusion-Style Hoppin' John from earlier in the week.

I used my Dutch oven to bake this, a la the popular no-knead bread recipe that has been raved about on various food blogs every now and then.  I like the deep crustiness (this is a word) that the Dutch oven gives bread.  Plus my pizza stone shattered a few months ago and I haven't replaced it.

(Unrelated tip: some pizza stones can't actually handle high oven temps, rendering them pretty much pointless, so be sure to check the stone's max temp before you buy it.)

The original recipe is excellent if you prefer your recipes sans duck fat and are just looking for a simple, no-frills Italian bread recipe (bonus: you can let it rise in the fridge overnight and there's no proofing involved for the yeast).  After all, it's not like you can just buy duck fat any old where.  But if you do have some on hand, or if you're one of those curious people out there who, like me, wondered what the fuss was all about, here's one way to use it up.

Consolidated recipe at the end, as you know by now.

F-Word Italian Bread

Makes 2 Loaves

I started off with two cups of bread flour, one tablespoon of brown sugar, two teaspoons of salt, & five teaspoons of yeast (= 2 packages).

White sugar also a-ok.

And, of course, the star of our show: two tablespoons room-temperature duck fat (softened, that is, not melted).  Feel free to sub in butter or olive oil.  Really.

Is anyone else disturbed that this kind of looks like really delicious ice cream?

I mixed these up for a minute or two until the flour looked more like granules than grains:

It doesn't have to be gorgeous at this point.  That comes later.

To this I added 1.75 cups of warm (not hot) water.  Think not so hot that you'd be afraid to put a baby's fingers in it, but not as cool as room temperature ...if that helps.  After about a minute or so I flicked the mixer speed to high and let it whip up for about two minutes so that everything was thoroughly mixed.

Mmmmmm, dough soup.

Now, the original recipe calls for as much as four more cups of flour added here.  I only added three more cups of bread flour (for a total of five cups in the entire recipe).  You may want to do what I did, which is to add one cup at a time until you hit the right texture.  In case you think finding the "right" texture comes naturally to anyone, you can see here where I kept notes on the side of the fridge as I worked.

Dry-erase markers to make notes and grocery lists on the fridge has been a life-changer for me.

As the notes say, watch out for flying flour when you switch the mixer on.  I have a little trick I use for that, but do beware that if you do this you must be very careful to never let the towel fall into the bowl or you will end up with an extraordinary mess.  And never, ever, EVER reach in after it if it falls in.  Mixers can't tell between dough, towels, and hands.  You will lose fingers.

Imitate at your own risk.

By the third cup of flour I had a ball of dough that juuuuuust came together after about three minutes with the dough hook.  It was a very, very stiff dough that -- as you can see from my notes -- had me a little worried.

Is this dough or concrete?  Nobody can tell at this point.

From there I kneaded it on low for six minutes.  I let it sit for seven(ish) minutes before turning on the mixer again for another seven minutes of kneading.  What I got on the other end of this process was silky, elastic, press-it-and-it-bounces-back dough.  It still amazes me every time.

Lighting change optional.

I spritzed it with a little olive oil, turned it over a few times, covered the bowl with a warm, damp cloth, and put it someplace warm to rise.  The original recipe calls for overnight rising in the fridge, which I have no doubt leads to a fluffier texture and and more complex flavor.  (Letting yeast sit is the key to a lot of breads, particularly those that use a biga, including Amish Friendship Bread -- which I will make one of these days... maybe.)

Ah! Godzilla!

About 1.25 hours was what it took at room temperature.  It might take more or less time for you so just check it now and then.  

At that point I split the dough in two, placed each in a separate bowl, gave another quick spritz of oil, and let them sit for another half hour or so.  In that time they doubled again.

Tucking it around itself, like a Popple, is the key to a nice, round loaf or roll.

While the dough was going through the second rise, I cranked the oven up to 425F and put my cast-iron Dutch oven in, including the lid.  Be very, very careful if you go this route: you'll want a good pair of mitts since 425 is hot and the cast iron seems to conduct heat through mitts particularly well.  Also, beware that you don't forget that the lid is just as hot as the pan when you go to move it around later.  It's been more than once that I've burned my fingers that way.

At least 20 minutes with the empty pot in the 425-degree oven should be enough to warm it up.  If you'd rather use a pizza stone or a regular baking sheet, go for it.  It's your bread, bake it however you want.

If you use the Dutch oven like I did, you've got two choices for getting the dough into the pan:  (1) do it in the oven; or, (2) take the pot out and do it on a cooling rack (DO NOT put the hot pot down on your counter!!).  I chose the latter because I fear the oven and I was balancing a camera at the same time.

Plop your dough in gently, quickly brush it down with a little oil (I used more duck fat with a little parmesan cheese and garlic powder mixed in for funsies), put the lid back on (MITTS!!) and slide the whole shebang back into the oven.

Clearly a few finger dents won't kill the loaf, so no need to get too worked up.

20 minutes later remove the lid (MITTS!), watching out for smoke, and place the lid on a cooling rack.  Brush the loaf down again (you could use egg white here if you wanted, or olive oil), spin it 180 degrees, and let it bake for another 15ish minutes.  If your loaf is oblong, like an Italian loaf usually is, you're looking more at 10 minutes rather than 15 since it's not as thick in the middle.

Halfway there!

They say you know an Italian/French loaf is done when you can knock on it and it sounds hollow.  I went by smell and color.  It probably could've taken another few minutes without drying out too much.  Fifteen minutes was about perfect for my (admittedly finicky) oven, yours might require a little adjustment.

Normally I'd only make one loaf in any given week and put the other half of the dough in the freezer, but we were giving one of the loaves away to a friend so I baked the second one immediately after.  If you choose the freezer route, thaw the frozen dough overnight in the fridge and then let it sit on the counter about 20 minutes prior to baking to allow it to come up to room temperature.

Was it life-changing, outer-space bread?  No.  But it was pretty good and it did have a bit of an umami note that was nice with a little soup and red wine.  Doc took a shine to it, but then again he has yet to meet a carb he didn't love.

 I thought it went especially well with some pear preserves we had left over from Christmas.  The texture was dense enough that it'd make good sandwich bread.  And if you've only got butter or olive oil on hand, I honestly think those will serve you just as well.  Still, it's nice to try new things now and then, eh?

Duck!  F-Word Italian Bread

Makes: 2 Loaves

Ingredients

• 2 cups + 3ish cups bread flour
• 1 tablespoon brown sugar
• 2 teaspoons salt
• 5 teaspoons (2 packages) active dry yeast
• 2 tablespoons room-temperature duck fat (can sub softened butter or olive oil)
• 1.75 cups lukewarm water
• 1 tsp oil
• 1 egg white (optional)

Directions 

1. Place 2 cups of flour with the salt, sugar, yeast and duck fat (or oil/butter) in a mixing bowl.  Whisk for 1-2 minutes, until the flour takes on a granular appearance.
2. Add the water and whisk for another 2-3 minutes at a high speed.
3. Add the remaining flour one cup at a time, mixing thoroughly between each.  Add flour until the dough becomes stiff and just a little tacky (sticky) to the touch.  How much is required may depend on the humidity in your area, 3 cups is an approximate value.
4. Once the dough comes together, knead 6 minutes.
5. Allow to rest, untouched, for 7 minutes.
6. Knead another 7 minutes.  The dough should be elastic and velvety to the touch at this point.
7. Splash a small amount of oil over the dough, turn, and cover with plastic wrap or a damp towel.  Set in a warm place and allow to rise until doubled, about 1-2 hours.
8. Punch down the dough, divide in half, and place in separate bowls.  Splash with a small amount of oil, turn, and cover again for another 30-60 minutes.  
9. While the dough rests, turn the oven on to 425 degrees F and place a Dutch oven on the second-to-lowest rack.  Allow the Dutch oven to heat, empty, for at least 20 minutes.  Beware of smoke when opening the oven.
10. Using sturdy oven mitts, uncover the Dutch oven and place one of the dough balls into the pot.  Quickly brush the top with oil, replace the lid, and close the oven door.
11. Bake 20 minutes.
12. Using sturdy oven mitts, uncover the Dutch oven and place the lid on a cooling rack (again, beware of smoke escaping the pot).  Quickly brush the top of the loaf again with either oil or an egg white and bake, uncovered, for an additional 15-20 minutes.  (Time may need to be adjusted for your oven or shortened if using a different pan.)  Loaf is done when the loaf makes a hollow sound when tapped, or when it reaches 190 degrees.
13. Allow to cool in the Dutch oven for 10 minutes.  Using oven mitts, remove the loaf to a cooling rack for an additional 10 minutes before cutting.

Notes: 

• If only making one loaf, wrap the second in plastic wrap or a gallon freezer bag and place in freezer.  To thaw frozen dough: remove the dough from the freezer and allow to defrost overnight in the fridge.  20 minutes prior to baking place the dough on the counter to allow it to come to room temperature.
• This bread is particularly well-suited to aromatic mix-ins such as thyme, rosemary, grated cheese, and roasted garlic or garlic powder.  Feel free to experiment!
• Do be careful of the smoke that can build up in the Dutch oven.  Leaning too close when uncovering it can result in a really painful eyeful of smoke.
• Cutting before the 20 minutes is up can result in a gummy texture on the inside of the bread, so be strong!

Crockpot Hoppin' John (Fusion-Style)

Hope you all had a lovely holiday season!

Hard to believe it's over, isn't it?  I had planned to put up my Irish scone recipe in time for Christmas breakfast, but with all the other baked goodies in the house I just couldn't bring myself to add more.  They're on my radar to share soon, I promise.  Other than that I spent most of the holidays cooking things that were other people's recipes (such as a Christmas rib roast and some crispy duck for New Year's Eve) or clearing out some of the freezer jars that'd started to pile up.  That's the awesome part about cooking & freezing in bulk -- any time I don't feel like putting together a meal I can just thaw one out without feeling like I've given up on nutrition.

Speaking of taking it easy, is there anyone at all who doesn't love a slow cooker recipe?  Toss in some meat/veg and some liquid, flip the switch, and come back in 6-8 hours to a hot meal that is almost always tender and delicious.  Meals just don't get any easier than that!

Growing up in New England, I didn't really have any exposure to lucky New Year meals until I was in college and started to make friends from Other Places.  I still love to hear about what kinds of foods people consider auspicious.  When I lived in Japan there were toshikoshi soba and oseichi to be enjoyed.  Here in rural PA, pork & sauerkraut is a bit of a thing.  Somehow, though, despite never living in the south I got into the habit over the last few years of making Hoppin' John for dinner on New Year's Day.  In the beginning I relied on recipes that spanned everything from the most rudimentary (beans, water, salt, & pepper) to more elaborate ones like recipes from Emeril and the Pioneer Woman (both are excellent).

This year I ran across a recipe on NPR that suggested an Indian twist on Hoppin' John.  A day or so later I found Thai and Vietnamese takes on it as well.  All three of these recipes call for either shredded coconut or coconut milk, something Doc will eat but doesn't really love.  The idea intrigued me enough to venture into trying a similar sort of thing.  Since it's more or less just a bean stew, I figured I could add in some extra spices and then toss the whole thing in the crock.  It keeps the concept of the original intact while adding in some color and a different flavor.

Here's a preview...




I don't think anyone would eat this and think, "wow, this is soooo south Asian."  Rather, the flavors were inspired by spices I didn't have any experience with until I started to try Indian foods.  This is definitely a fusion dish.


As always, the consolidated recipe is at the bottom of the page.

Slow Cooker Hoppin' John Raj

Total Prep Time:  15 minutes active + 12 hours inactive (only if using dried beans)
Total Cook Time: 6-8 hours
Makes:  ~10 cups
Weirdest Spices:  curry leaves, fenugreek seeds

I love crock cooking not only because it's so easy, but because it always gives me a bunch to freeze and cuts down on oil.  In this recipe there's none at all.  Ideal!  That said, if you wanted to speed this process up you could easily pop it on the stovetop on high, let it come to a boil, and turn it down to a simmer.  Based on other recipes like the ones I linked above, about 40-60 minutes of stovetop simmer should do it.

I used all fresh ingredients since I had them on hand, but if you want to use canned/frozen that'd do just as well.

Okay, so first off I threw a slow cooker liner into the crock.  These are heavenly if you haven't tried them yet.  Saves so, so much time when it comes to cleaning.  You still have to wipe down the pot after, don't get me wrong, but it does cut way down on the scrubbing (and swearing) part.

Ahhh, laziness.  The right way to start off the New Year.

Into that I threw a ham hock.  You absolutely can leave this out if you're not a fan of pork or if you want to make this recipe vegetarian/vegan.  If you're like me and did not grow up with random bits of animal thrown willy-nilly into dishes, the "hock" is more or less the pig's ankle.  I've seen other recipes call for jowl instead.  You could even substitute cubed ham or bacon if you wanted.  Basically, any cheap cut of pork will serve the function of adding a savory note and a little guilt to the dish.  As it turns out the butcher was able to give me one raw hock and one that was smoked.  Since there were so many other flavors going on here I used the raw and saved the smoked for split-pea soup later in the year.

Smoked to the left, naturally.

I put that down in the pot first, since that's the bit I want to make sure gets thoroughly cooked.  I surrounded it with 4 cups of black-eyed peas.

It'll get tastier-looking in just a minute, I promise.

A Gassy Aside:  A quick word on cooking with dried beans, if that's the route you choose (canned & frozen also totally a-ok, just for the record).  You'll want to wash & pre-soak dried beans before cooking.  This does two things: (1) it softens the bean so that it cooks more quickly & evenly later; and, (2) it starts the bean breaking down.  Breaking down releases gasses, if you get my drift.  For that reason I usually soak mine for 24-48 hours, so long as I've remembered in time.  If you're not a plan-ahead type, though, you can quick soak them in about an hour instead.  Or run to the grocery store for a can, that's probably even faster.  Here's mine after they'd been soaking for about 36 hours:

Look at all those bubbles that aren't ending up in someone's digestive tract!

One pound of dry beans gave me almost 8 cups after they'd been soaked.  I only used half in this recipe, saving the other half to make cassoulet some other day.

I topped the beans and ham with spices.  For this I tried 1 tablespoon garlic paste (you could sub 4-5 cloves of garlic), 2.5 tsp chili powder, 2 tsp coriander powder, 2 tsp cumin powder, 1 tsp turmeric powder, 1 tablespoon curry leaves (can omit), 1/2 teaspoon fenugreek seeds, 4-5 sprigs of fresh thyme (can use dried), and 1 bay leaf.

Lay the meat on its side after all the pictures are done.

Spice Aside:  Curry leaves are an actual thing.  Like we've noted about cumin seeds/powder and mustard seeds/powder, curry leaves are not the same thing as curry powder, nor are fenugreek seeds and fenugreek powder/leaves the same.  Curry leaves have got an earthy kind of smell and flavor that can almost be compared to bergamot (but please don't substitute tea for curry leaves).  Fenugreek seeds are warm and almost a little citrusy,  something to take the place of the vinegar that's popular to add to this dish.  If you don't have curry leaves -- and chances are you don't -- just leave them out.  With the fenugreek seeds you could try subbing in a tiny splash of lemon juice or, again, just leave it out.

Next I diced up and packed in 1 green bell pepper, 1 red bell pepper, and 1 onion.

Love dem colors!

Followed by 2 diced tomatoes.

Tomaters go on top because they're fragile.

If someone presses you to explain the significance of these veggie choices, you could say that the green symbolizes money and that red is a lucky color.  Or you could say that these are what were in your produce bowl that needed using up.

Add roughly 2 cups of broth.  I had chicken stock in the freezer.  You could use vegetable stock if you wanted, or even water.  If your beans haven't soaked for long you might need to add a little more liquid as they expand.  As long as you have enough liquid to cover the beans & ham you're good.  Lay the ham on its side so that it doesn't stick up as far, that'll cut down on the amount of liquid you need.

You can add the stock directly after the beans to adjust volume if you'd like.

And that, my friends, is that!  Despite the length of this post it's honestly about 15-20 minutes of active work, including dicing the veggies.  If you're just opening cans / freezer bags, you're looking at maybe 5-10.

Cover that bad boy, plug it in, and switch it on.  The very rough rule of thumb for slow cooking is 4-6 hours on low or 8+ hours on high, though it's dependent on what you're cooking.  Since this recipe uses dried beans and raw pork I shot for 8 hours on low, making sure to check the temperature of the ham with a thermometer before serving.  If you omitted the pork or used precooked meat then shorter times would probably be okay - just go until the beans are squishy enough to eat.  If you've omitted the raw meat and are using canned beans, then really you're good to go as soon as it's warm enough for your tastes.

Tip:  When using a slow cooker the whole point is that the food gets brought up to temperature very gradually, usually to somewhere between 170 - 200 degrees F.  The difference between low and high settings is how quickly this happens, but generally speaking the contents of the crock won't exceed 200-220F.  The lid is the thing that traps all this heat in, meaning that if you take the lid off to stir or poke at your food - particularly in the first few hours - you're setting yourself back in terms of cooking time.  It takes several hours before the liquid will even start to boil.  I usually wait until at least the halfway mark to stir things or check consistency, but do please resist the temptation to uncover & stir during the first few hours.  With meats, particularly meats on the bone like a ham hock, I like to use the low setting since that helps the meat to break down more.

Now comes the easy part: doing anything else at all while this cooks!  And enjoying the smell, of course.

Eight hours later I opened up the pot to find a tasty-looking bean stew.

You wish this were scratch & sniff.

Add salt & pepper to taste once everything's fully cooked.  Keep in mind that stock is almost always salty (particularly if you buy it) and the ham is also salty, so between the two you might not need to add any extra salt at the end.  Taste first, then add gradually.

If you like you can remove the pork hock, pick the meat off the bone, and then return the meat to the pot.  Or if you're lazy like us, you can just kind of scoop around the bone.  That's the beauty of slow cooker meals -- the meat's always spoon-tender.

We served it over rice with a little raw spinach for crunch & color.

Slow Cooker Indian-Spiced Hoppin' John

Ingredients:

• 1 ham hock (can omit if desired)
• 4 cups black-eyed peas
• If dried: wash & soak overnight
• If canned: drain & rinse
• 1 green bell pepper, diced
• 1 red bell pepper, diced
• 1 medium-sized onion, diced
• 2-3 tomatoes, diced
• 2-3 cups vegetable or chicken stock, just enough to cover the beans & ham
• 1 tablespoon garlic paste, or 4-5 cloves of garlic
• 2.5 teaspoons red chili powder (or to taste)
• 2 teaspoon cumin
• 2 teaspoon coriander
• 1 teaspoon turmeric
• 1 tablespoon curry leaves (can omit if not available)
• 1/2 teaspoon fenugreek seeds (can omit)
• 4-5 sprigs fresh thyme
• 1 bay leaf

Instructions:

1. Layer ingredients in a slow cooker (minimum size: 4 qt): beans & ham, spices, pepper & onion, then tomatoes.
2. Add stock, checking to ensure that liquid covers the beans.
3. Cook on low for 8 hours or on high for 6 hours.
4. Add salt & pepper to taste.  
5. Serve over rice with greens.