Calabaza Squash

Week: 10
Ingredient: Calabaza Squash
From: Martin's, Harrisonburg, VA
Recipe: Mashed Winter Squash¹

Last time I went to the grocery store, I was in a hurry, so I decided to grab the first unusual thing that I could find. In the produce section, I found what looked like a small, tan-colored pumpkin. It was a calabaza squash. The truth is that I have absolutely nothing interesting to say about it. I made “Mashed Winter Squash,” more or less by the Joy of Cooking recipe,¹ and it was pretty much like any other winter squash. I would say its flavor is somewhere between butternut squash and pumpkin—squashy and slightly sweet. It takes a while to make, but that is only because of the cooking time; the prep is quick and easy. It makes a nice winter vegetable. And I mean “nice” in the completely-generic-positive-adjective kind of way.

After I made the mashed squash, I took the seeds and toasted them (also more or less by the Joy of Cooking recipe¹). They made a nutty, salty, crunchy, and wonderfully addicting snack. Also nice. But this time I mean “nice” in the one-word-phrase-said-with-heart sort of way. (Not quite the way Kevin Malone would say it, but something like that.) And if the delicious snack was not enough, there was also the good feeling I got from being so frugal ... (Mennonite?)

Conclusion: I would not go out of my way to find calabaza squash, but if it was available and priced the same as other squash varieties, I would use it again. My biggest takeaway from this experience is not to throw away squash seeds. If a squash (or more likely a pumpkin) has a good seed yield, it is definitely worth the effort to toast the seeds. What a delicious snack! Supposedly squash seeds are healthy too (but that’s probably before they are coated with oil and salt).

¹Irma S. Rombauer, Marion Rombauer Becker, & Ethan Becker, Joy of Cooking, 75th Anniversary ed. (New York: Scribner, 2006), 71, 308-309.

A Birthday Cake for Danny ... with Arrowroot

Week: 8
Ingredient: Arrowroot Starch
From: Martin’s, Harrisonburg, VA
Recipe: White Chocolate Blueberry Pecan Cake

This week (well, it’s Monday, so actually last week) was very busy, and I nearly forgot about finding something new and different to cook. In fact, when my mom and I decided on Wednesday that I would take care of making a cake for my brother’s birthday party on Sunday, all my culinary scheming became focused on Danny’s cake.

In my family you get to request any kind of cake (or pie or ???) you want for your birthday. So, like a good sister, I texted Danny:

I'm making cake. Tell me what you want or you get surprise!!

Danny replied:

i would like a cake that incorporates blueberries, pecans, and white chocolate, and no cream cheese! unless that's a bad culinary idea.... you're the expert!

Hmmm ... not a combination I would have picked. White chocolate can be a tricky ingredient for blending. In small amounts, it has a delicate flavor that can easily be overwhelmed by other flavors (like regular chocolate). In large amounts, it is so sweet and rich that it needs to be balanced out with something light, fresh, and/or tart (like lemon). When I thought through Danny’s idea, I decided it had merit. There would need to be lots of white chocolate if I wanted its flavor to come through along with the blueberries and pecans. However, the pecans would help cut the sweetness, and the blueberries would add freshness. Piece of cake! Insert groan at bad pun here.

My mind took off, exploring possibilities long before I had a chance to look for recipes. When I finally had time to sit down and do some research, I went straight for The Cake Bible,¹ which has become my go-to resource for all things Cake. (For those of you who are not familiar with Rose Levy Beranbaum’s masterpiece, I will just say that it is not for the casual baker. Read the reviews on Amazon if you want to understand more.) The first component of the cake was obvious: “White Chocolate Whisper Cake.” “White Chocolate Mousseline Buttercream” and “Winter Blueberry Topping” followed close behind. I toyed with the idea of incorporating pecans into the cake batter or using one of the nut cake recipes, but I could not decide on anything that satisfied me. So, I decided to toast the pecans and use them as a garnish. Still, I was missing something. The cake, buttercream, topping, and nuts were not going to come together in perfect balance in the four-layer pièce de résistance I was dreaming up. It needed more ... blueberry.

Enter blueberry curd. A curd is an intensely-flavored fruit spread, topping, or filling. Lemon curd is the canonical curd, but other fruits can be made into curd as well. A four layer cake would require three fillings. Two of blueberry curd and one of white chocolate buttercream would make a lovely balance. None of my trusted recipe sources had recipes for blueberry curd, but I figured I could improvise on another curd recipe. The plan was complete.

The first thing I made was the curd. When it was finished cooking, I set it aside to cool and moved on to the cake itself. I measured carefully (by weight, not volume), painstakingly followed the instructions, monitored the oven temperature closely, and rotated my cake layers midway through cooking. They came out looking perfectly golden and perfectly level. Fantastic, I thought. A short break, and then on to the buttercream.

It was not to be. Before I moved on to the buttercream, I realized something had gone horribly awry. The blueberry curd was not thickening, and the cake layers had both sunk in the middle. There was no way I could make a four-layer cake out of two half-sunken layers and runny filling. Quel dommage!

I was able to salvage the sunken cake layers. I trimmed them into two 1-inch layers. However, I considered the blueberry curd a complete loss, and it is still in my refrigerator (and will probably be used as a pancake topping).

The buttercream came together like a dream, and I used that (mixed with some pecans) to fill the layers. I frosted the (2-layer) cake with buttercream (sans pecans), and coated the sides of the cake with pecans. I piped a border around the top and bottom, and spooned the “Winter Blueberry Topping” (which also came together quite nicely) on top.

It was not the cake I had envisioned, but if I had not told the story, no one would have known anything was amiss. It was quite delicious. There is really nothing like a quality cake, and despite its flaws, this one was top notch (if I may say so myself). All the butter and white chocolate in the cake and icing gave it a wonderful melt-in-your-mouth quality (plus a little crunch from the pecans). The flavors of the white chocolate and blueberries complemented each other. Danny, you chose well!

Conclusion: I have not mentioned arrowroot starch at all so far. It kind of feels like I cheated. “Winter Blueberry Topping” called for arrowroot OR cornstarch. I really could have used cornstarch (which I always have on hand), but I needed a way to fit some new ingredient into this cake adventure; there was no time for something else. So, I used arrowroot. Maybe in a side-by-side comparison I could tell a difference between arrowroot-thickened and cornstarch-thickened blueberry topping, but in this stand-alone instance, all I can say is that it worked. That hardly seems like an adequate synopsis, so I will leave you with Rose Levy Beranbaum’s probably-based-on-actual-experience opinion that “arrowroot is preferable to cornstarch because it adds sparkle.”

¹Rose Levy Beranbaum, The Cake Bible (New York: HarperCollins Publishers Inc., 1988).

Prunes

Week: 6
Ingredient: Prunes
From: Martin’s, Harrisonburg, VA
Recipe: Chicken with Almonds and Prunes¹

Prunes have a bit of a ... reputation. The kind of reputation that makes 9-year-old boys laugh. I have to admit that I laughed quietly to myself when the grocery store worker scanned the big container of prunes I was purchasing. Eighteen ounces of prunes have a lot of fiber—enough fiber to create a potty-humor-worthy situation. I’m buying prunes, I thought to myself, and for a brief moment, I was amused by the type of funny that would normally elicit in me a roll of the eyes (accompanied by laughter, of course).

So, why prunes? As with many culinary adventures, it started with a recipe. In any cookbook, there is bound to be at least one recipe that catches my eye. In Classic Kosher Cooking, it was “Chicken with Almonds and Prunes.”¹ I cannot explain my draw to this dish unless it was its uniqueness; it was unlike anything I had ever cooked or eaten. The ingredients were all familiar but in a combination I do not think my mind would have ever dreamed up on its own. Prunes, to me, were the defining ingredient. I have childhood memories of eating prunes, but always straight from the container, never cooked. I guess I was intrigued (and probably hungry).

I followed the recipe to the letter. The chicken was seasoned with cinnamon, ginger, salt, and pepper. After sautéing some onions, I added the chicken and browned it. Prunes, orange juice, honey, and lemon juice were added, and then the dish was simmered until the chicken was cooked. Roasted almonds topped it, and I served it with plain white rice. In the end, I thought the dish was unremarkable. I liked the combination of flavors, but I found it to be too sweet. If I was going to make it again, I would replace some of the orange juice with chicken stock and cut back on the honey.

Mediocrity aside, I am so glad I tried this dish. The absolute best part of this whole thing was the fragrance that filled my kitchen while the chicken was browning. The aroma of onions and cinnamon cooking together was intoxicating. It reminded me of some strange cross between fresh, hot cinnamon rolls and Mom’s chicken and dumplings. Maybe that sounds gross, but I do not know how else to describe it. I can only tell you that the curious scent had me salivating and daydreaming of onions and cinnamon. In my mind, the flavors blended sublimely into dishes savory and delectable. There is no doubt that I will be pursuing this enticing flavor combination in cooking endeavors in the near future.

Conclusion: “Chicken with Almonds and Prunes” was not a huge hit, but that will not stop me from eating or cooking with prunes in the future. On the contrary, I feel like I have rediscovered an incredible food. I sampled a few uncooked prunes while I was preparing the dish, and they have a sweet, rich, fruity flavor. Delicious! Also, prunes are incredibly healthy; they are full of fiber, nutrients, and antioxidants. They make a far better snack than so many other foods I could keep in my pantry or desk drawer. It is no wonder that marketers have been trying to win back the public with an alternate moniker: dried plums. I wholly recommend prunes to anyone who is not deterred by the prune stigma. Just be sure to eat them in moderation lest you become the object of little boy humor.

¹Sara Finkel, Classic Kosher Cooking (Southfield, Michigan: Targum Press Inc., 1989), 80.

Buckwheat

Week: 0
Ingredient: Wolff's Kasha (buckwheat groats)
From: Martin’s, Harrisonburg, VA
Recipe: Creamy Kasha (Buckwheat) Cereal¹

My best friend recently discovered she has a gluten allergy. I bought her The Gluten-free Gourmet Cooks Comfort Foods for Christmas, but she already had it. So, I kept it for myself, and I will have a reference for cooking gluten-free when she comes to visit in the future. I browsed through the cookbook, and that's where I found “Creamy Kasha Cereal.”

The recipe was perfect for a blog post because (1) I have never cooked buckwheat, and (2) I had all the ingredients on hand. So, why did I have buckwheat on hand if I never use it? I had actually had a box of buckwheat sitting in my pantry, untouched, for quite a long time. I bought it after a trip to Ukraine, where I first ate this form of buckwheat. The plan was to try to recreate some of the Ukrainian food I ate, but I never got around to it. Fortunately, buckwheat has a long shelf life!

The buckwheat I ate in Ukraine was served with vegetables and a little meat, quite unlike this sweet breakfast dish. I prepared the recipe as written with one substitution: dried cherries instead of dried cranberries. While it was cooking, I was a little skeptical. The chocolaty aroma was nice enough, but it just did not look appealing. It was brown, lumpy, and watery. Despite cooking it longer than the recipe indicated, the wateriness did not go away. (Maybe I measured wrong?) Adding the cream at the end improved the appearance, but it was still a rather homely dish.

But, all's well that ends well. It was actually very tasty, like oatmeal but with a slightly different taste (buckwheat-y!) and texture (groat-y!). In fact, the texture was quite pleasant—not at all pasty like oatmeal can sometimes be. It was quick and easy too.

Conclusion: Buckwheat is an ingredient worth using. I won't be serving “Creamy Kasha” for company any time soon, but it is certainly good enough for a family breakfast. The recipe leaves plenty of room for variation—change up the fruit, add some nuts, use honey instead of brown sugar, etc. Next time I cook buckwheat, I'll probably try it in something savory—a pilaf, perhaps. If nothing else, buckwheat is a nice alternative to oatmeal once in a while.

If you are wondering why this post is not about capon, it is because I decided I wanted a proper roasting pan before cooking my Capon. I ordered one, and it should arrive soon. The capon was frozen when I bought it, so it won't hurt to keep it in the freezer another week or two. :)

¹Bette Hagman, The Gluten-free Gourmet Cooks Comfort Foods (New York: Henry Holt and Company, 2004), 127.