Showing posts with label Molly Wizenberg. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Molly Wizenberg. Show all posts

Sunday, April 8, 2012

Beer Chicken and Potatoes with Salsa Verde

 
I've never liked the taste of beer. I have a high school friend who deemed it was like drinking “carbonated piss”, but ever since last summer, I found myself slowly enjoying the bubblyness and developed a newfound respect for pee beer.


A few weeks ago, we got a taste of summer—in March. It was sunny, blue skies, I even drove to work with the window all the way down, letting the warm air blast through my hair. As the temperature continued to rise, I switched on the air-con at home, which would have been effective if I didn’t cook coconut lentil soup for dinner. Apparently burning hot dishes are better left for a cold winter’s night.

I still don’t know the difference between the various families of beer/ale/lagers/pilsners and always look up each one on Wikipedia when curiosity strikes, but I do know one thing’s for sure, beer makes food, both sweet and savoury, taste freaking awesome

 

This beer chicken, adapted loosely from Laura Calder’s French Food at Home, is a fine example of how an ordinary can of an everyday beverage can convert you. It’s a simple recipe, so simple in fact, I bet you can do it blindfolded. All you need is chicken pieces (I used chicken thighs—I’m a dark meat kinda girl), wash and pat them dry, then tuck in some bacon and plenty (and I mean plenty) of garlic cloves between the skin and scatter it over the roasting pan. Pour beer over the pan and stick it in the oven for about forty-five minutes, until the chicken is cooked through. 
 

Trust me, fifteen minutes in, your home will smell like a garlicky bacony microbrewery. You will wonder what took you so long to make this dish. You will find it hard, excruciatingly painful even, to wait for the chicken to cook, because at this point, it will smell so damn good. The good news (I promise there’s always good news) is you can crack open the same beer and lounge on your balcony, enjoying the beautiful sunset while your dinner bubbles away in the oven. 




If you’ve ever had drunk chicken, this is what the meat tastes like with a distinct bitter flavour. The chicken is exactly how it should be, moist, tender, juicy, laced with sharp garlic and smoky bacon. I highly recommend you eat this double-fisted, with your elbows on the table, chewing loudly and with a second (or third, or fourth, why stop there?) glass of cold beer on the side--it's the only way.



The words salsa verde have always allured me, its fancy name slides off the tongue like a slick dance move. I used Molly’s recipe which is a slurry of lime juice, cilantro, olive oil, jalapeno and lots of raw garlic, drizzled over plain baby potatoes to give it a kick. It’s not only pretty, but the acidity brings out the brightness in the beer chicken. In other words: try it. If were like me and think beer tastes like fizzy piss, this might just change your mind.


Recipe here!

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Chana Masala with Quinoa


I’m taking a vacation from rice. When my mom is here, there is usually rice at.every.meal. It's so plain. To jazz it up, sometimes I drizzle gochujang (Korean red chili sauce) because I love how the spice burns my tongue. Or, if I prefer less heat, I spoon thick, inky juices from the eggplant cooked in black bean sauce over my rice. 















Since I got back from Hong Kong, I don’t have to dread eating rice. My mom abandoned me and now I have the whole apartment to myself for two months, which translates to two things: walking around naked (I’m not kidding), and eating whatever I want, whenever I want. But then sometimes laziness takes over and I’m tempted to declare peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for breakfast, lunch and dinner.


But I won’t have it. I brainstormed a delicious list of dishes that I’ve been meaning to make for months and also taste good the next day (none of them include rice, though risotto to me, doesn’t count, because it’s one of my favourite things ever). This weekend I crossed three things off my list and then added six more dishes as I was browsing cookbooks, so now I'm faced with a serious dilemma of finding a way to grow a second stomach to stick more food in my belly.


Last week, this chana masala lasted me for half the week. Seven spices are layered with sweet tomatoes and caramelized onions, the silky chickpeas help soak up the bright and hot flavours to give you a robust and luscious sauce. Pour it over quinoa (or if you dare: rice!), add a dollop of yogurt and you have yourself a very fine dinner. I couldn’t help but eat it in big, greedy bites, I encourage you to do the same.

**The lovely Lauren over at A Dash of Cinema interviewed me about food, blogging, and photos. You read about it here.


Recipe here!

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Cinnamon Rolls with Cream Cheese Glaze

Whenever the heavy rubber-lipped subway doors spring open at Eglinton station here in Toronto, a gust of sweet cinnamon fills the train. Other passengers don’t seem to notice, no one’s eyes light up, nor does anyone breathe deeply, taking in the sugary scent, or how, like me, I immediately perk up from my seat, a smile slowly spreading across my face and worries of my tardiness to my appointment dissipates as the buttery aroma of fresh, yeasty rolls float into the TTC.


There is a Cinnabon or something with the similar name on the basement level of a mall in MontrĂ©al (another evil decoy to tease hungry subway goers), always luring me to stop by and buy a cinnamon roll but I’ve always resisted the urge. The only time I did give in to its seductive scent was at the Cinnabon at Union Station. I bought one with my then-boyfriend, an impulse purchase in our morning rush to some event we were on our way to. 

The cinnamon roll was given to us in a large turquoise box, similar to the paper boxes that McDonald’s packages its Big Macs, and for a second, I thought we bought a quarter pounder, the box was heavy and as I peeked at the cinnamon bun, it was massive, large enough to feed a family of four. Its microwave warmth numbed my hands and I grabbed a handful of napkins to clean up the thick, glossy syrup seeping through the folds of the cinnamon roll.


Yet I don’t remember how it tasted at all. Clearly, it wasn't enough for me to turn back on my heels and demand the young cinnabon server to hand me over the recipe lest I call the cops for his disobedience.

So I made these cinnamon rolls, yeasty buns to be shared with friends and family and even a stranger or two. I promise they will be remembered, engraved in your palate memory for many years to come, you won’t be able to resist their sticky, cinnamony fun. From the day these bad boys are baked to the end of their lifespan, they will be the reason to get up in the morning. Forget coffee, forget breakfast, forget work, these cinnamon rolls my friends, is your new reason to live. 

 
Written by one of my favourite food bloggers, Molly Wizenberg (whose book the Homemade Life made me cry when she pours her heart out about the French boy who broke her heart), this recipe has been sitting in my ridiculously long list of “Must-Make” recipes for a much too long. If you start on it now, you could have fresh, warm, cinnamon rolls in less than three hours. To help you pass the time, you could busy yourself reading this (hilarious!) or this (heartbreaking!) while the dough rises or make plenty of this to enjoy with the rolls, and trust me, the three hours will pass very quickly. 


You don’t even need a stand mixer (though I’m counting on you Santa), since the dough easily comes together in a few steps. Besides, who doesn’t like playing with food? Or revelling in that soft, silky feeling of flour between your fingers? Or the way a sticky, raggedy mess transforms into a smooth ball with just the kneading of your palms? This takes a bit more time than say, quick breads, but it was well worth the extra effort. Really.


In other news! Guess who I had the honour of meeting last week? Another of my favourite food bloggers: Clotilde Dusoulier of Chocolate and Zucchini. She gave a talk on the Art of Food Blogging and George Brown College, part of the Stratford Chef School Joseph Hoare Gastronomic Writer in Residence. I’ve never pounced on anyone before, not even James Franco (Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to drool on you). She’s the sweetest, kindest person and I’m glad she didn’t call on security given the eager way I urged her to sign my cookbook. Thanks to Lisa for taking the picture!


Recipe here!