she craves

Time for A Change ...

 

This site is going through the final stages of a much-needed facelift. My life is going through some transition (in a great way). So that means She Craves as you know it will change a bit. For the better.

Be on the look out Monday, February 3rd for a brand new shiny page complete with a URL change. Yup. I'm growing up with a proper web address and all. 

The new site will still be about food, but a lot more in depth. The occasional recipe with a hefty dose of food knowledge. So expect the following:

• Food Nerdery - The what's and why's of food via science, sociology, culture
• How-To's - How to shop for, find, store, and use food, as well technique hacks
• Product Review - I see a lot of crap. I don't want you to
• Restaurants I Love - Part travelogue, part review, I offer the best experiences to be had
• Expert Focus - I've met some incredibly talented people and they'll tell you everything you need to know about their area of expertise (pastry chefs, winemakers, etc.)
• Resource Guides - Cover the basics on what to have in your kitchen, foolproof wines and pairings, etc. Basically, the fundamentals of the good life.

Once the site is up and live, your old bookmarks and URLs should re-direct you. Once it doesn't, I'll let the world know to change the settings. So no new content until the debut. Until then, follow me-tweets (@VNess), Instagram (@she_craves), and Facebook.

I can't wait to share the full extent of my food nerdom with you. 

-Vanessa

Homemade Chai

A Warming Cup of Chai (or an excuse for a quiet moment)

In a small saucepan, combine 2 cups of water, 1 cup of milk (at least reduced fat, please), 5 whole cloves, 1 cinnamon stick, 3 crushed cardamom pods, 1/2 teaspoon fennel seeds, 5 white peppercorns, 5 black peppercorns and about 1-inch's worth of ginger root, thinly sliced. I don't bother peeling it. Yes, I have a thing for odd numbers, especially prime numbers.

Don't be appalled by the sheer number of spices used -- contrary to what Morton & Basset may have you believe, good spices can be purchased relatively inexpensively. Do as the Indian, Chinese and Middle Eastern ex-pats do and peruse the spice aisles of their community/ethnic grocers. No glass bottles of exotic scents, just unassuming plastic pouches filled with whole cloves, coriander seeds and the like. Thanks to them, I always have whole spices on hand to make something like a cup of tea. [Author's note: I really do dislike the term "Ethnic" markets because in my experience it usually refers to those of us with darker skin tones, Mongolian eye folds, etc. But really, let's all admit we're ethnic and help me find another term to use for these markets.]

Bring to a simmer over high heat and reduce heat. Let cook and steep, uncovered, all its wonderful flavors until reduced by one-third (usually about 15 to 20 minutes of gentle bubbling). Then add three bags worth of black loose leaf tea. Keep simmering for about 5 minutes or until you achieve that desired hue of khaki to the liquid.

Strain out the mixture into a teapot or pitcher or another saucepan. Get rid of the aromatics. And then sweeten the smooth tea with turbinado sugar (the less refined the better -- you need that treacly goodness to add even more depth) to your taste. Finally, add a pinch of salt. Really. It makes everything even more luscious.

Makes enough for 3 servings or one for prolonged sipping over a list and pen and paper. Sip or gulp depending on mood. You don't have to share the pot if you don't want to. But it isn't bad to rack up some good karma.

A cup or two always makes me happy. It's even better with a couple of thick slices of toast, buttered and then drizzled with honey.

Pandoro French Toast for Christmas

Most people - myself included - have one or two dishes that they hold close to their hearts. These dishes are considered the markers of big events like family gatherings, post-recital dinners or holidays.

For my folks, there's nothing more indicative of their successful American dream like a steak dinner (at a screaming good value, even better if a salad bar is included). Nothing screams Dickensian holiday like roast beef and a tray of steaming hot, bouffant Yorkshire pudding. Serial dieters dream of their first taste of cheesecake.

My special occasion dish - French toast.

A Different Sort of Caramelized Nuts

There's sugar and then there's sugar. For someone like me who takes an unnatural delight in food shopping, the world of sweeteners hits way beyond C&H's pink and white packaging. Of course, there's light brown for cookies of every sort. Then there's demerera with its caramel, crunchy grains. A puck of palm sugar sits in my cupboard and gets a good shave everytime I (or rather, The Voracious One) constructs a Thai curry from scratch. Muscovado, musky and dark, is the sexiest sugar I know. But for the sake of pairing with nuts in the name of a craving or perhaps, some holiday gift-giving, I turn to the sugar from India with a phonetically fun name: Jaggery.

Chocolate Rum Cake

I started a pot of water to cook some pasta. Somewhere, I don't know when, I lost interest and forgot about it until I heard the stove top hiss with the sweat of the hot pot. I let it boil.

Baking is a loving, yet precarious act for me. I am not terribly good at it, but I am more than willing to try. Loaf cakes and quick breads are allies and stand-bys. Cookies a wary friend. But full-on frosted glory cakes -- those were another creature I hadn't really stared in the face.

But it's the holidays when people who don't really shop do so. When people who aren't so giving, suddenly feel obligated to give change, donations, and brightly wrapped gifts to those in their lives. Suddenly we're all a bit more cheerful (in theory). So then is my token toward humanity's goodness -- baking. 

It's the time of year when non-cooks take on that painstaking and sometimes painful venture of baking something for someone. If they're crafty or just don't care, maybe the ready-made cookie dough on a festive paper plate. If you're trying to impress your cadre of blogger friends, something dainty and delicious. Or if you're like me, you resort to your pastry goddess friends' talents and pick up something from a professional.

But if there were ever an occasion to try, to give that bit of extra effort, perhaps this is it. The weather is usually shit. The places where you need to run your errands (your usual excuses to not bake) are crowded. You might as well stay in and bake. So bring together two of the best things known to mankind, chocolate and booze, for the ultimate act of love. 

When you offer those in your life something as epically made-from-scratch as this, it's the human equivalent of the cat leaving a dead bird on your doorstep, baking that is. Like the cat you present it, smugly, calmly. "Here," your eyes say. "I made this for you." 

Chocolate Rum Cake Because It's the Holidays

4 ounces melted dark chocolate like Pralus Djakarta (found at stores that actually give a shit about chocolate) * 2 cups and 2 tablespoons all purpose flour (sea level folks won't need the 2 spoonfuls) * 1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda * 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg * 2 sticks soft unsalted butter * 1 1/4 cups granulated sugar * 1 teaspoon vanilla OR bourbon * 4 eggs * 1 1/2 cups buttermilk * Buttercream (see below) * toasted coconut

Preheat the oven - real or imaginary - to 375 degrees.

Take a medium bowl from the cupboard in your head or from the kitchen and stir together the dry ingredients (all the way to the nutmeg).

In large bowl (or a stand mixer bowl) cream the butter and sugar together until it's pretty fluffy. Scrape the sides of a bowl with one of those indispensible rubber spatulas. Beat in the vanilla and eggs (one at a time into the bowl) until blended. Slowly drizzle in the buttermilk. Then add the dry mixture to the butter using a low speed. Add the chocolate and scape down the sides again and mix until it's evenly, smoothly, gorgeously glossy and dark.

Divide the batter between to 9-inch cake pans. Bake for 30 to 40 minutes. Like other cakes, you know it's done when the toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Let it cool completely. Now is a good time to fall asleep, if need be.

Use a knife to trim the cake into a uniform thickness. I can't vouch for technique other than a long, sharp blade (like a bread or meat carving knife), an inclination for OCD or even a leveler if you're that way. No matter, because the frosting is what will save you. Frost the top of one cake with the buttercream and top it with the other layer. Frost the top of that, then down the sides in a sloppy, non-chalant way. It will still look good. Using your hands, press the toasted coconut onto the frosted sides (get it? it's like glue) until the sides are covered and nothing but the luscious top shows.

Serves 12 polite people; 8 greedy ones; or 1 restless soul.

 

Rum Buttercream

1 stick soft unsalted butter * 4 cups sifted powdered sugar * 1/3 cup earth brown cocoa (I'll plea to not use alkalized so that some flavor comes through; I used Pralus cocoa powder to echo the melted chocolate in the cake) * 1/2 cup dark rum 

Beat the butter until soft and fluffy. Add half of the sugar and beat until smooth. Scrape down the bowl and add the rest of the sugar, cocoa and rum until it's smooth and spreadable. If you're the plan-in-advance-type, this will keep covered in the fridge for a day or two.

Recipes adapted from Susan G. Purdy's Pie in the Sky baking book.