Tiramisu Cheesecake

Oh the endless possibilities that cheesecake provides. Tiramisu cheesecake is just another example. And because it was an experiment and I decided to throw it together kind of last minute, my recipe is a little loose and you might need to change it for your own preferences.

Before I made it, I looked at a lot of different recipes online and found many that used the lady fingers crushed up and mixed with butter to provide the base, and some others that put them directly in the cake. I like the latter idea better and the rest of it was pretty simple. I did a normal cheesecake layer, then the soaked ladyfingers, and finally a top layer of sweetened mascarpone.

Not much else to say about this except I took it to a party and it was a big hit. And I was worried about soggy lady fingers sinking into cream cheese, but fears ended up being unfulfilled.


Tiramisu Cheesecake

crust
½ c butter (125 g)
1.5 box graham crackers or Maria cookies
pinch of salt

Crush cookies any way you can (beat them in a plastic bag, pulse them in a food processor), melt butter, and mix the two together with salt, then press on the bottom and up the sides of a springform pan. Bake at 170C/340F oven for 10 minutes.

cheesecake
600g cream cheese
1 c sugar, seperated
3 eggs
250g mascarpone
½ c marsala or sweet sherry
½ c espresso
ladyfingers
good chocolate for grating
pinch of salt

Mix the cream cheese at room temperature, with half the sugar. Seperate the eggs and whip the whites to soft peaks. Mix the yolks into the cream cheese, and then add a pinch of salt and fold in the egg whites. Pour the mixture into the prepared crust. Now mix the marsala and espresso together, dip the lady fingers in so they are well coated on all sides and moist, and then layer close together over the cream cheese. Finally mix the mascarpone with the remaining sugar, egg yolk, some salt, and when well combined, fold in the egg whites. Pour this over the ladyfingers and spread out evenly with a spatula. Now put in a preheated oven, still at 350F/170C and cook for about 30 minutes. My standard 'doneness' test is if the edges are set but it's still wobbly in the middle. When that happens, take it out and let cool. Store in the fridge overnight and just before serving, grate chocolate all over the top of it. Enjoy.

Enchiladas Potosinas

Few things are better in life than homemade Mexican food. My parents always tell me that was one of the beauties of living in El Paso back in the late 70s and early 80s, before the city it was across the border from became known as one of the most dangerous places in the world, and back when labour was cheap.

People sometimes think Mexican is a bunch of grease and yellow cheese, and while Tex-Mex, which is close to my heart, might fit under that category more often than not, real Mexican is just as varied and regional as Italian cuisine (which others might argue is just a bunch of pasta and pizza; also, this is not the case). If you need any proof of this, I recommend the cookbook The Taste of Mexico by Patricia Quintana from 1986. This is also-pre Mexican explosion. Before it became trendy to make guacamole tableside in a molcajete and charge and arm and a leg for it. I think this book is the real deal. I’m really drawn to cookbooks that divide their foods by region, so you don’t feel like you’re getting a whole big mish-mash of what one might perceive as Mexican. And with the divisions in Quintana’s book, you see where seafood is a large player, get a taste of Mole Poblano, and see everything in between from various stews to different preparations of meats.

Enchiladas aren’t too cryptic to most Americans. You know it’s a tortilla, basically stuffed and rolled, covered in sauce and then baked. Depending how they’re prepared, they can be pretty Tex-Mexy. In The Taste of Mexico, I found a recipe for Enchiladas Potosinas where you make the corn tortillas yourself with a bit of chile ancho so they come out a brilliant dark red, stuff and lightly fry them, and then serve. In my book, these are not typical enchiladas. From what I’m used to, these were more like a take on empanadas or perhaps a gordita of some sort. Along with some guacamole, a sprinkle of queso fresco, and perhaps some sour cream, you garnish them with cilantro and onion…the only necessary condiments in real Mexican cooking which you’ll quickly find is tradiontal fashion after visiting a taco truck.
“Do you want everything on it?”
“What’s everything?”
“Cilantro and onion.”
“Yeah, sure. Everything.”



Enchiladas Potosinas
from The Taste of Mexico, Patricia Quintana, 1986

In the Tangamanga market in San Luis Potosi, local cooks prepare this typical dish on braziers while hungry market-goers huddle around them eagerly awaiting the fresh enchiladas.

For the stuffing
¼ c vegetable oil
½ cup white onion, chopped
1 c salsa verde (recipe to follow)
Salt to taste
2 ½ c queso fresco or ricotta or feta

For the dough
6 oz chiles anchos, lightly roasted, seeded, and deveined
2 cloves garlic, whole
1 tsp salt
2 ¼ lb fresh masa or equivalent made with masa harina
3 c vegetable oil

For the garnish
1 c queso fresco, crumbled
1 c white onion, finely chopped
2 c guacamole

Prepare the stuffing: heat oil in a frying pan. Sauté onion until soft. Add green sauce. Salt, and cook over medium heat for 10 minutes. Remove from heat, and cool. Stir in cheese.
Prepare the dough: soak chiles in water to cover for 25 minutes. Drain, and reserve soaking water. Blend chiles in a metate, blender, or food processor with garlic, salt, and a little soaking water. Add chile mixture to masa, and knead until dough is smooth and not sticky. If necessary, add more soaking water.
Divide dough into 24 balls, 2 inches in circumference. Make tortillas, using a tortilla press. Heat tortillas on a hot comal or griddle, turning once. Immediately place 1 teaspoon of stuffing in the center of tortilla, and fold over, like a turnover. Repeat, using all tortillas. Keep hot. Heat oli in a saucepan for 10 minutes. Fry enchiladas in oil over low heat for 3 to 4 minutes. They should remain soft. Drain on paper towels.
To serve, place enchiladas on a platter. Garnish with cheese and onion. Serve with guacamole.
The enchiladas can be made ahead through filling and folding. Freeze, and thaw at room temperature until partially thawed. Fry immediately.
Makes 24 enchiladas.

Salsa verde
1 qt water
12 tomatillos, husked
7 medium cloves garlic, whole
4 to 8 chiles serranos (vary according to preference of piquancy)
3 Tbsp white onion, coarsely chopped
Salt to taste
¾ c cilantro leaves, with a bit of stem

Bring water to a boil in a saucepan. Add tomatillos, 4 garlic cloves, 4 or more chiles, and onion. Cook over medium heat for 20 minutes, and remove from heat. Drain, and reserve cooking water. Cool.
Meanwhile, puree 3 garlic cloves in a molcajete or food processor, adding salt to taste. Add cilantro, and blend. Add tomatillo mixture. Add a little cooking water, and blend. The sauce should have a slightly thick consistency. Correct seasoning.
To serve, pour green sauce into a molcajete, and garnish with onion and cilantro.
Makes about 2 cups.

Masa
3 c masa harina
½ tsp salt
1 ½ to 2 c lukewarm water

Mix ingredients in a bowl with a fork. Gather into a ball, and kenad dough until smooth and no longer sticky. Cover with a towel, and allow to stand for 1 hour.
To make tortillas, line the base of a tortilla press with a sheet of plastic wrap or wit ha plastic sandwish bag. Pinch off balls of dough from the masa. (The size will vary, depdning on desired tortilla diameter; the balls are usually slightly bigger than a walnut). Center the masa on the lined tortilla-press base. Cover the masa with a sheet of plastic wrap. Lower the top of the press, and push down the handle. Open. The tortilla will have plastic wrap on the top and bottom.
Carefully peel away the plastic on top. Place your left hand under the tortilla. Flip the tortilla onto the right hand, so the plastic is on top. Carefully peel away plastic. Flip tortilla onto a preheated, very hot griddle or comal. When the tortilla begins to dry on the edges, flip it over. Cook until the top begins to puff. Tap lightly with your fingertips to allow even puffing, and let cook briefly, about 1 ½ to 2 minutes. Remove tortillas from the griddle, warp in a napkin or clean towel, and serve.

Preparing dried chiles
The first step in preparing dried chiles is careful washing. Since they often are sun-dried on the ground, the chiles usually are dusty and dirty. Next, remove the stems (if the chiles are not to be stuffed), and slit the chiles length-wise in order to remove the seeds and veins. Preheat a griddle, and roast the chiles very lightly, turning to roast on all sides. The dried chiles will puff and reconstitute slightly. Be careful not to burn them. Burned dried chiles produce an acrid taste.

Toot Toot, Beep Beep

I'm not one to toot my own horn, I mean I try to be modest: "Oh you think that chocolate hazelnut cheesecake really was good? Oh, thanks...well, it was sooo easy..." even if I know the dessert was a dance on the taste buds.

But on this one I'm definitely tooting. Maybe because it's kind of a surprise, not in my usual play book. I'm gonna tell you right now, it's banana cake. Those words kind of make me a little nauseous, to tell you the truth. But I'm not done. It's more like an Elvis special. And it all started with some very mature bananas at work that were going to have to be thrown out. So I got to town making banana bread and then banana cake. And to make it bearable (and by bearable I mean amazingly rich and dreamy), I layered it with chocolate ganache and iced it with peanut butter frosting.

I am a sucker for peanut butter and bananas, and chocolate and peanut butter (or chocolate and anything), but for some reason, a dessert of banana cake falls to the bottom of my list. But it ended up being some of the moistest cake, on its own, that I've made. And dressed up with heavy chocolate ganache and some salty, whipped, peanut butter frosting, it's hard not to like this cake.

So toot toot.


Banana Cake with Chocolate Ganache and Peanut Butter Frosting

banana cake
2 ¼ c flour
¾ tsp baking soda
½ tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt
1 c (4) very ripe bananas bananas
¼ c buttermilk
1 tsp vanilla
2 stick butter
1 1/3 c sugar
2 eggs

Preheat an oven to 350F. Grease and one 9” springform pan or two 8” rounds (the first will provide three layers, the second four). With the butter at room temperature, cream it with the sugar. Mix together the dry ingredients. In a separate bowl, mush up the bananas and then add other wet ingredients, mixing everything well. Then add to the dry ingredients and incorporate everything, including the butter and sugar mixture. Pour into the pans and bake until a toothpick comes up just about dry, about 20-30 minutes. Let cool and then remove from pans. If you are using one pan, cut with a serrated knife into three portions. If you have used two pans, cut each in half.

chocolate ganache
1 ½ c heavy cream
1 lb good dark chocolate

Bring the cream to a simmer over the stove. When it’s just under a boil, remove from heat and stir in chocolate, until it’s completely melted. After you have cut the cakes and they have cooled, frost each layer with the ganache and stack.

peanut butter frosting
1 c creamy peanut butter
3 Tbsp butter, room temperature
2/3 c powdered sugar
1 tsp vanilla
pinch of salt

In an electric mixer, cream the butter and peanut butter together. On a low speed, at the powdered sugar a little at a time, and the vanilla and salt, until everything is mixed well. Taste and make sure you like the flavor. You can always tweak by adding more sugar or peanut butter. Your cake should be stacked now and layered with ganache. When you have the frosting ready, simply take a spatula and ice the outside of the cake. Now dig in.

P.S. This cake freezes very well, just defrost it and let it come to room temperature, or if you’re eating slice by slice, pop it in the microwave.

A Little Summer Something...

Thought I'd just give you a little something pretty to look at with the promise that more will come soon. This crostini, or good stuff on toast, was sort of thrown together at the last minute, but with some really great ingredients. I pulled whatever we had out of the fridge, and in this case it ended up being ricotta and pecorino romano (love its saltiness), then grilled some asparagus, and picked some fresh mint to sprinkle along with a bit of dried red pepper and a drizzle of olive oil. Completely do-able and delicious. Oh, and having sunflower seed bread to throw on the grill doesn't hurt either.

London

Alright, it’s been long enough. I guess I owe you something now. Let’s start with part of the reason it’s taken me so long to get back to you. I went on a little trip to Europe (ok, 2 ½ weeks over the sea doesn’t explain months of no word, but it might help) and I went to London.

London is a big city, and there’s lots to see and lots to eat, so I’m not sure how much I covered in three days, but probably not much. I’m going to give you mere suggestions of where I ate rather than elaborate recounts of each meal. For one, I can’t recall that well, and like I said before, there are thousands of places to eat in London. If something is absolutely necessary, I will stress it.

First lunch in London was a little Chinese place called Ba Shan. I love how in the city a restaurant can look like a pub and yet still have characteristics unique to its cuisine. Somehow, Ba Shan looked like a Chinese-British mixture, or maybe I was just not used to being in the UK yet. The food was pretty good, there were some little green bread-like dumplings that were nice to look at, and some other dumplings that were just delicious. Good dipping sauces too.

That night we went to a place that D liked and insisted on at some point, Tom Ilic, south of the river. Each dish was comprised of many bits and pieces, one standout was a single pea and ricotta tortellino. It was served with pea puree, pork belly, and a scallop wrapped in pancetta. And no, I didn’t take notes, but I do have a cheat sheet. The menu is up on the website, so you’ll get a more detailed description of each picture. So that was my starter, and I was very happy I had selected it. We also had some sort of study in tomato and goat cheese, the menu reads “hazelnut crusted goat cheese, tomato and pesto terrine, toasted brioche, and roasted red onion.” Mouths mine drop in shock that I didn’t immediately go for this, but who knows, maybe my taste is evolving past goat cheese, hazelnut, and pesto. The third starter was sautéed veal sweetbreads, boudin blanc, and truffled baby artichoke salad. We’ll get to my thoughts on sweetbreads at a later restaurant, but for now, on with Tom Ilic. Oh, and I must interject, I had my first bottle of Carmenere here, which my two dining companions absolutely love and went on and on about, so thanks for introducing me to it. For my main, I had filet of Kettyle beef and braised oxtail raviolo, horseradish soufflé, roast bone marrow, and spring onion vegetables. I think mine was best again, the beef and raviolo were great, but the soufflé was a bit too done on top (you might be able to see from the picture), and my palette has not yet reached the heights of bone marrow…my companions gladly accepted my donation, though. There was trio of lamb to be had: saddle, cutlet, and slow cooked shoulder, gratin dauphinoise, broad beans, and minted pesto. I know the lamb’s the main part, but I loved the beans. You always hear about English peas and beans, don’t you?

The last main isn’t on the menu anymore, so I’m having a little more trouble remembering, but the photo suggests lots of pig. There was even pig trotter, which rather than being served full foot, was made into a type of cake, almost like a crab cake, that you can see in the top left corner. There was some delicious mash in this combo. To ring in dessert, I think I got a glass of Port, which is not my usual, but I enjoyed it. Dessert is the one thing I regret about Tom Ilic. They had a chocolate fondant with pistachio ice cream, which is a match made in heaven, but you had to wait 15 minutes, so we decided against it. But we ended up staying longer than that anyway, closing down the restaurant and making friends with the maitre d'. Instead of chocolate, we went with white chocolate and mascarpone cheesecake, strawberries, and black pepper ice cream. Loved the ice cream, don’t really remember the other two. We also had poached rhubarb (I always hear about English rhubarb, also), ginger crème brulee, and a madeleine. This is where Tom Ilic lets me down. Grainy crème brulee. And I know it’s not too hard to do; I can make crème brulee. I would expect smooth, creamy perfection, but it was not. I was not left with a sour taste in my mouth because of this, I would still go back, it was great, but I wish I’d gone with the chocolate and pistachio.

The next day, we went to a place by where we were staying at London Bridge. Magdalen was a cute little lunch spot, pretty fancy filled with lots of men in suits. But I had some amazing fish there that I’d go back for. D had smoked haddock with potatoes and leeks, but I don’t think I love the taste of smoked fish. I had Dover sole with samphire and brown shrimp. The sole was great, tender and not over-cooked, great flavor (I’ll try and ignore the fact that there were two roe sacks in her). The brown shrimp, which I just liken to popcorn shrimp, but not battered or fried, were also great. Apparently brown shrimp is a kind of shrimp, not just like tiny popcorn shrimp that we have here. And the samphire is one of my new favorite things, had never even heard of it until I was there, and since I’ve been back, I’ve seen it two different places here in Austin, one of them being a local farm. But we call it sea beans or something crazy like that. Anyways, it’s slightly salty and got a nice crunch to it. I loved it.

A trip had to made to Neal’s Yard, because, well, cheese. That’s all I need to say. If you like cheese, or cheddar, or Stilton, or Stichelton, or just wanna try them, Neal’s Yard. Now, one of my requests (actually, demands) for London was Indian food. D had a place out in Whitechapel, whatever that means. All I know is that it’s where the biggest mosque in London is, and we were the minority on the street. Good signs if you’re heading for ethnic food. I was warned before that this is strictly Punjab, meaning it’s north and like a mix of Indian and Pakistani, oh, and no rice (they have it, but someone wouldn’t let us order it). Fine by me, as long as it’s good. We walked in and there was a line, the restaurant had expanded the last time D was there, and every table was full. There was also a dessert counter, full of stuff I had seen in the Raval, and some stuff I hadn’t seen, like pistachio barfi (which sadly, I never got to try as the Barça v. Manchester game pressed on). After not too long a wait, we squeezed into a table in the corner and popped open our wine (byob is never a bad thing). There were four of us, and we had a feast, so forgive me if I can’t remember everything, or if my list seems a little excessive. There was Dry Meat (can’t forget a name like that, but ironically it’s not dry and is quite delicious), Mughal Korma, Karahi Dhal Tarka, perhaps?, and maybe some sort of Gosht, tandoori, as well as tons of roti and naan. I’m not an expert on Indian food (if you give a Mexican menu, that’s a different story. Mexican is to Texans as Indian is to Brits, so I didn’t do much of the ordering). One thing I do know is that I love korma. A creamy, coconut milky, almondy, rich korma over rice or chapati or what have you. This korma was like nothing I’d had before. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t a pale, sandy colored korma. It was dark meat with little sauce. Still good, but a new taste for me. I did like Tayyab’s though, and the line was a testament to the faithful crowds that line up for loads of Punjab cuisine.

Now comes the fun part: Lounge Bohemia. Let me tell you about an underground (literally) bar that has three very specific rules. 1. Call ahead/make reservations. 2. No standing. 3. No suits. You might think reservations, at a bar? And you’d probably also think ‘no standing, at a bar?’ Well these two go hand in hand. The owner, a quiet Czech guy, explained to us that he doesn’t want this to be some place you stumble into. This should be a ‘destination bar’, if you will. For us, it was a destination. We knew where we were going. It doesn’t have flashing signs outside, but it also isn’t a completely inconspicuous door in a dark alley. You go down a few stairs and enter a room that has a complete retro feel, with old couches and menus stuck in the middle of vintage-looking Czech books (mine was in one of the Lassie series). He doesn’t want it to be some rowdy place for drunks, so you gotta be seated to get served. There’s limited seating, and on our second trip there, we sat with some other people and made friends, which this arrangement lends to. I don’t have any thoughts on the ‘no suits’ rule, because it doesn’t affect me. If he said no dresses, I might be turned off, because sometimes I like to dress up (although it made me feel much more comfortable knowing this when I was wearing my sneakers there). We even heard that one time he turned away some alcohol distributors wearing suits, not realizing who they were. But he sticks by his rules. Enough background info, drink time. This was Dan’s pick, obviously. You can tell straight away by the menu of drinks, including some molecular ones, that this is right up his alley. They started us off with a little trio of snacks (the mushroom was really a bite of caprese sans basil). I went for a rum drink because I’m picky about my liquor. I do pretty much do rum and tequila and rarely stray. D went straight for a molecular Manhattan, which came out with a jello shot of bourbon in the middle. Enjoyable enough, but not my thing. After this, we got talking to the owner about drinks, turns out he doesn’t drink. This is still something I find absolutely amazing, to be mixing drinks like this, making up new ones, and to not drink them. After the first round, we told him what we liked or what we had in mind, and he came back with some off the menu items. This was where the best drink of the night came in. Ready for breakfast? You bet. Prepared tableside, bacon infused bourbon was poured into a glass and then lit on fire, and then an egg was cracked, and poured in, and all stirred together. Really wonderful. We were told later it was some sort of egg liqueur, but weren’t given the secrets of the bacon bourbon. Next came a drink that was created for some artist whose only request was a ‘crying tree.’ Out came a giant hunk of tree branch with a glass attached, and a curled piece of bark sticking out of the drink. I remember gin and honey, which I think sounds like tears from wood in the form of alcohol, no? Although an interesting presentation, it was too sweet (for D. I don’t do gin). The last in the series ended up being a lot better than I thought. It was lavender crème brulee. Now, I love the sound of that, and I had looked at it on the menu, but it was made with lavender vodka, which I thought I did not love. I thought wrong. It was a creamy mixture, probably involving that same egg cream liqueur, lavender vodka, and a big crispy chunk of burnt sugar, topping off the drink as if it were a dessert. Great way to end the evening.

Next day for lunch we went to the famous St. John Bread & Wine. Even if it doesn’t ring a bell for you, it was famous to me, I’d heard repeatedly about it and been shown the menu multiple times. St. John also marked one of my firsts, as many places in London did. It’s known for its offal. I am not. There are other things on the menu, like spring onions with leek vinaigrette (we had that), but my company insisted on tongue (I did not try) and sweetbreads. Behold, my first sweetbread (oh, and this is the one thing I didn't get a picture of). My sister goes on about them. D and his whole family go on about them, so I figured, I must be missing out. And if I’m gonna do offal, St. John is the place to do it. I can say with all honesty, I am not missing out. I’m not sure what everyone tastes that I don’t, but I didn’t think they were great. I passed on the tongue. I had my fill of odd body parts for one lunch. One of the standouts for me was the dark horse, a skate salad with tomatoes. Can’t explain why, but it was just plain delicious. We also got some John Dory with sea purslane (I’m told it was somewhat similar to samphire, but I prefer samphire). Then there was squab and finally dessert. As far as I’m concerned, we could’ve done without dessert…not trying to offend anyone. But Eccles cake and Lancashire cheese is more like a snack than a rich, sugar-packed cap to a meal. We also got something that was called ‘buttermilk pudding’ which I equated to a buttermilk pie I’ve made, but ended up being more like panna cotta, which I do love. After lunch, I was led into a dark, dimly-lit cave and forced to drink giant glassfuls of Madeira. I was told this place was called Gordon’s, and that I enjoyed it, but I’ll have to take someone else’s word for it… The final foodie stop in London before we left the next morning was Borough Market. Much like peas, rhubarb, Neal’s Yard, and St. John, this is another thing I’ve heard so much about. They even do an exchange once a year with the Boqueria in Barcelona, so I’d seen a few of the meat pies they had to offer. While we walked around, we got a mixed meat butty, complete with sausage, bacon, and English mustard. And butty is so much more fun to say than sandwich.

Making a giant pot of curry

1969: A Great Year, Especially for Cookbooks

When I first came back to Austin, I took a trip down south to Thrift Town. You can probably guess by the name, but it's a second hand shop, not trendy like vintage, but old romance novel and overalls like goodwill. There’s a small book section, and surprisingly, within that, there's a cookbook section. There I discovered a few books that were very old and pretty used, about cooking in different countries. I picked up The Cooking of India and it was love at first sight. Somewhere recently, between leaving Mexican food for a stint in Spain and warming to Spanish food, I learned about Indian food. It's actually what I ate on my last night in Barcelona, before returning to America. You may laugh, but in Texas, and most of America, we just don’t do Indian. I can only remember one time eating Indian out in Austin, and that was post cookbook purchase. My point is, I discovered the Time Life book series of Foods of the World and they have been my obsession ever since. The books are filled with so much information, not just recipes, and vivid, colorful photographs of the land and food and families cooking at home. Just looking at it, you know it's not a recently published book. No crazy gimmicky fonts or modern pictures of minimalist food; it's just India, how I’d like to see it, but fear that it's changed since these photos. And then I look, and yes, there's that little c with a circle around it and the year 1969, so things surely have gone a different way since then. And with all the added elements, the chapters on different regions, minorities in India, vegetarian cuisine, the index of Indian spices, and the bios on the writer and consultant (both from India), I get the feeling it's much more authentic than say, Jamie Oliver's Italy (no hard feelings...I own that book too, cook from it, and love it). But there's no doubt the writers in the Time Life series did their research and really knew their business back in 1969. The problem with my $3.24 book from Thrift Town is that there's an accompanying recipe booklet that has recipes not included in the actual book, and of course, this was not to be found at Thrift Town. I was still delighted with my purchase, and it had all the integral recipes as far as I could tell (mattar pannir, korma). You can order them from Amazon, but it costs more than my book. I decided to hold off, and I was on a mission to keep my eyes open at any chance I might have of encountering more books or recipe booklets. I got lucky one day in San Francisco and happened upon this little store called Cookin' that carries new and used cooking tools, supplies, cookware, books, just about anything relevant to the kitchen. And out of all the books, they had my Cooking of India recipe book for six dollars. Since then, I've seen different ones around new and used book stores, I'm tempted to get The Cooking of China, but first an Indian feast was in order.

I made a few different things, but right now I'm just going to give you the recipe for mattar pannir, probably hands down my favorite Indian dish. Another beauty of this book is it gives you recipes for every little thing, even ghee, which I was too lazy to make, so I bought it. But I did make my own garam masala, according to their recipe, and it was one of the most fragrant, strongest smells I’ve experienced in a while. And it makes a large portion so you have it around for the next time you want to whip up something. I'm going to steal a little bit of their text, giving more information on masalas because there's no use trying to put it into my own words.

"...most dishes are made with the elaborate combinations of freshly ground seasonings called masalas. Garam masala, for example, is a basic blend of dried spices to be used alone or with other seasonings. Other masalas, each devised to suit a particular dish, combine spices with herbs and may be ground with water, vinegar or another liquid to make a paste or 'wet masala.' In some cases nuts, coconut, even onion or garlic may be added. The flavors may be balanced to create a harmonious blend, or a single flavor may be emphasized as in a 'cardamom masala' or a 'coriander masala.' To release its flavors, a masala is usually cooked--separately or with other ingredients--before the appropriate meat, fish or other food is added to the pan."



Garam Masala

A few notes: Getting the seeds out of each cardamom pod takes a long time. Get a helper. I used a coffee grinder to blend everything and I thought it worked perfectly getting it to a fine powder.

To make 1 1/2 cups

5 three inch pieces cinnamon stick
1 cup whole cardamom pods, preferably green cardamoms
1/2 c whole cloves
1/2 c whole cumin seeds
1/2 c whole coriander seeds
1/2 c whole black peppercorns

Preheat the oven to 200F. Spread the cinnamon, cardamom, cloves, cumin, coriander and peppercorns in one layer in a large shallow roasting pan. Roast on bottom shelf of the oven for 30 minutes, stirring and turning the mixture two or three times with a large spoon. Do not let the spices brown.
Break open the cardamom pods between your fingers or place them one at a time on a flat surface and press down on the pod with the ball of your thumb to snap it open. Pull the pod away form the seeds inside and discard it. Set the seeds aside. Place the roasted cinnamon sticks between the two layers of a folded linen towel and pound them with a rolling pin or a kitchen mallet until they are finely crushed.
Combine the cardamom seeds, crushed cinnamon, cloves, cumin seeds, coriander seeds, and peppercorns in a small pan or bowl and stir them together until they are well mixed. Grind spices a cup or so at a time by pouring them into the jar of an electric blender (or coffee grinder) and blending at high speed for 2 or 3 minutes, until they are completely pulverized and become a smooth powder. If the machine clogs and stops, turn it off, stir the spices once or twice, then continue blending. As each cupful of spices is ground, transfer it to a jar or bottle with a tightly fitting lid.

Garam masala may be stored at room temperature in an airtight container, and will retain its full flavor for 5 or 6 months.

Mattar Pannir

cheese
2 quarts whole milk
1/2 c unflavored yoghurt
2 Tbsp fresh strained lemon juice

peas
5 Tbsp ghee
2 Tbsp scraped, finely chopped fresh ginger root
1 Tbsp finely chopped garlic
1 c finely chopped onions
1 tsp salt
1 tsp turmeric
1/4 tsp ground hot red pepper
1 tsp ground coriander
1 Tbsp garam masala
2 c finely chopped fresh tomatoes
1 1/2 c fresh green peas or 1 10-oz package frozen peas, defrosted
1 tsp sugar
3 Tbsp finely chopped fresh cilantro

Prepare the cheese in the following fashion: In a heavy 3- to 4-quart saucepan, bring the milk to a boil over high heat. As soon as the foam begins to rise, remove the pan from the heat and gently but thoroughly stir in the yoghurt and lemon juice. The curds will begin to solidify immediately and separate from the liquid whey. Pour the entire contents of the pan into a large sieve set over a bowl and lined with a double thickness of cheesecloth. Let the curds drain undisturbed until the cloth is cool enough to handle. Then wrap the cloth tightly around the curds and wring it vigorously to squeeze out all the excess liquid. Reserve 1 cup of the whey in the bowl and discard the rest. Place the cheese, still wrapped in cheesecloth, on a cutting board and set another board or large flat-bottomed skillet on top of it. Weight the top with canned foods, flatirons, heavy pots or the like, weighing in all about 15 pounds, and let it rest in this fashion at room temperature for 6 to 8 hours, or until the cheese is firm and compact. Unwrap the cheese, cut it into 1/2 inch cubes, cover with wax paper or plastic wrap, and refrigerate until ready to use. (There should be about 1 to 1 1/2 cups of cheese cubes.)
To prepare the cheese and peas, heat the ghee in a heavy 10 to 12-inch skillet until a drop of water flicked into it splutters instantly. Add the cheese cubes and fry them for 4 or 5 minutes, turning the cubes about gently but constantly with a slotted spoon until they are golden brown on all sides. As they brown, transfer the cubes of cheese to a plate.
Add the ginger and garlic to the ghee remaining in the skillet and, stirring constantly, fry for 30 seconds. Add the onions and salt and, stirring occasionally, continue to fry for 7 or 8 minutes, or until the onions are soft and golden brown. Watch carefully for any signs of burning and regulate the heat accordingly.
Stir in 1/4 cup of the whey, then add the turmeric, red pepper, ground coriander and garam masala. When they are well blended, stir in the remaining 3/4 cup whey and the tomatoes, and bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to low and simmer partially covered for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add the peas and taste for seasoning. if the gravy has too acid a flavor add up to 1 teaspoon sugar.
Remove the cover and, stirring occasionally, cook for 3 minutes. Then add the cheese cubes and one tablespoon of the fresh coriander, cover the skillet tightly, and simmer over low heat for 10 to 20 minutes, or longer if you are using fresh peas and they are not yet tender.
To serve, transfer the entire contents of the pan to a heated bowl or deep platter and garnish the top with the remaining two tablespoons of chopped fresh coriander.

Super American Cheesecake

In Spain I would always use ingredients like lemons, rose water, coffee, chocolate, vanilla beans or other ‘natural’ ingredients like that. So it was kind of a relief and a celebration of all things American and processed to make a deliciously rich and unnatural (in a good way) cheesecake. I went straight to the candy aisle, because what isn’t made better with the addition of candy? I site chocolate chip cookies with broken up Andes mints; it definitely gives them that extra something.

I have a weak spot for Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. I think many people do, except those unfortunate enough to be allergic to peanuts. But I went straight for these after little deliberation. I’m sure in the future there will be many more variations of my candy cheesecake (I’m seeing Twix and M&M’s, perhaps Junior Mints too). But Reese’s are not where my Americanized version ends. I needed more processed sugar. A topping of some sort, so then I headed to the ice cream aisle, because we all know that’s where you get your gooey, melty junk food. I would suggest butterscotch or caramel, and I found one that was a mixture of both (I’m not really sure what it contained, probably large amounts of sugar and corn syrup).

There’s not much else to this cheesecake, the natural goodness of the products pretty much do all the work for you.


Super American Cheesecake

crust
½ c butter (125 g)
1.5 box graham crackers (I just use regular Honey Maid)
pinch of salt

Crush cookies any way you can (beat them in a plastic bag, pulse them in a food processor), melt butter, and mix the two together with salt, then press on the bottom and up the sides of a springform pan. Bake at 170C/340F oven for 10 minutes.

cheesecake
1 bag Reese’s peanut butter cups (not sure how many are in there, or how many ounces it is)
1 jar butterscotch/caramel sauce
24 oz cream cheese
½ - ¾ c sugar
3 eggs

Make sure your cream cheese is at room temperature. While the crust is baking, slice each Reese’s into quarters. When you take the crust out, scatter them over the crust and they will slightly melt onto it. Reserve about ¼ cream cheese for the topping. With remaining cream cheese, beat in the sugar and eggs, with a pinch of salt. Pour this over the crust and Reese’s, and bake at 350F/180C for about 30 minutes, until top is set but the cake still wobbles. Heat up the jar of butterscotch sauce and mix well with the cream cheese you’ve saved. When it’s well incorporated, pour slowly over the top of the cheesecake, around the edges (not all straight in the center, it’s more likely to go straight through the bottom layer if you do that). And make sure and cover the whole surface. Put back into the oven for another 10-20 minutes, until the top layer is set. Fair warning: this stuff is sticky, and probably will slightly caramelize to the edge of your springform pan. But it’s all worth it in the end, and you’ll truly appreciate how good it is to be in the land of plenty.