It seems that this Tibetan-inspired morning joe is the newest of the coffee trends, and I am not terribly impressed. I am known to switch up my morning coffee routine with whatever liquids are in the fridge. Almond milk is typical, but other nut milks, cow’s milks, and hell–even heavy cream, make their way in from time to time. So of course I had nothing inherently against adding my favorite grass-fed butter and some coconut oil to the mix.
The problem I had is that, for the extra step of transferring to a blender and whirling it about, it just wasn’t worth the effort. I’ve had coffee just as tasty and satisfying as when I add heavy cream. I’ll even argue that, if you stir in some grass-fed heavy cream, you’ll accomplish the same thing. And that thing, when it comes right down to it, is a delicious cup of caffeinated goodness–not a super”food”.
This is summer in a bowl, and I have a loose recipe to represent the season:
170 g (1 6-oz package) raspberries, 12 raspberries reserved for garnish
1/4 cup sugar
1 loaf store-bought cornbread, cubed
1 cup heavy cream
1 Tbsp powdered sugar
1/4 tsp vanilla extract
zest of 1 lemon
Mint sprigs, for garnish
1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.
2. Combine the raspberries (except for the 12 reserved raspberries) and the sugar in a small saucepan. Cook over low heat until the raspberries have broken down. Remove from heat and cool.
3. Place the cornbread cubes on a baking sheet and bake until toasted and light golden brown, about 5 minutes.
4. Whip the cream with powdered sugar, vanilla extract and lemon zest until stiff peaks form.
5. Stir a third of the whipped cream into the raspberry compote. Gently fold the rest of the whipped cream into the raspberry mixture.
6. Divide the cornbread croutons among four bowls. Top with the raspberry fool and garnish with three raspberries and a mint sprig.
I’ve recently been reunited with my ramekins and I thought the best way to celebrate was with baked eggs. I’ve been eyeing a recipe in my Four Ingredient Cookbook for a while now, and the time is right.
Sautee thinly sliced leeks in butter and oil until soft. Season with S & P and distribute evenly among ramekins.
Crack one egg into each ramekin carefully–don’t you break that yolk! Sprinkle the tops with a bit more S & P and pour a touch of heavy cream on top of the eggs. (Seriously, just a touch. Don’t overdo it like I did.)
Bake in a hot water bath in a 375 degree oven till the whites are set and the yolks remain runny, about 10 minutes.
I promised to make something manly for the Super Bowl because I made this last weekend during the playoffs:
This crostini spread served as both the appetizers and the main course. Instead of arranging the toppings on the toasted ciabatta bread, I served everything separately so that we could experiment (though I did make strong suggestions as to what to do with it all).
Step one: thinly slice a baguette of your choice, drizzle with extra-virgin olive oil, and season with S & P. Toast the oven until golden around the edges.
Next: homemade butter:
In a food processor, whirl together heavy cream with salt until it thickens and then separates into solids and liquid (click here for the original post on homemade butter and a link to a helpful video). Pour out the liquid, add water, and give it a whirl. Drain the cloudy water again and repeat this process until the water runs close to clear.
Slather on the crostini and top with thinly sliced radishes and a sprinkle of salt.
One of my favorite things about spending time with my parents and brother is all the incredible food we prepare together. This past Christmas vacation, I was assigned a night to make dinner, and this is what I created:
Whether it was my mom who was quick to clean a bowl or stir the red cabbage; my dad who poured the cocktails (my mom warned, “Watch how much you’re drinking–I don’t want drunk pork chops!”); or my brother who is always armed with a joke, I kept great company in the kitchen. And that truly is what I enjoy most about cooking.
The pork chop was simply seasoned with S & P, seared and then finished in a 400-degree Fahrenheit oven. Deglazed the pan with white wine, and after that reduced I poured in chicken stock. Once the liquid evaporated by half, I stirred in some heavy cream and mustard.
As for the mashed potatoes, I did the same old thing I usually do.
The red cabbage? Well that’s a breeze. But I’m gonna save that for another post. Keep ya coming back for more (either that or you’ll be so annoyed with me, you’ll boycott EIYU all together. Please don’t).
Now stop reading about my family and my meals–grab someone you love (gently, of course) and make something delicious.
One of the most essential concepts I’ve been studying in culinary school is the art of sauce making. Jax Past would scorn at the very idea of a sauce, believing that taking short cuts would yield just as good a product. Jax Present knows better. Jax Present understands that a sauce deserves as much attention–or perhaps more–than the thing with which it will be paired. Many sauces require time to develop each layer of flavor that will eventually come together as something else entirely.
I recently prepared pork loin with a grainy mustard sauce. Unfortunately, the pork was too dry for my taste, but thankfully I had lovingly nurtured several raw ingredients into a sauce that made up for the protein failure.
In a large saucepan, brown roughly chopped carrots, celery and onions over high heat, stirring occasionally. Once the vegetables have caramelized, pour stock (homemade is preferred, but in this instance I was only able to use store-bought, low-sodium chicken broth) into the pan and reduce over medium heat. (At this point, you can add any herbs you’d like, as well as crushed garlic.)
Once the sauce has reduced by about half, strain through a fine-mesh strainer (or a colander lined with paper towels or cheese cloth). Wipe down the sauce pan and add a pat of butter. Sprinkle in finely minced shallots and cook gently to avoid any color development. Add a generous splash of white wine and reduce until it has almost completely evaporated. Pour the reduced stock into the pan, stir in grainy mustard and a touch of heavy cream and reduce further, until the sauce coats the back of a spoon. Season with S & P to taste.
Jax Future will absolutely make this sauce, and so should you. Serve over any protein you’d like (but I think pork works particularly well, so long as it’s not mutilated), preferably without pants.
It’s not much of a secret, really. It’s just that few are committed enough to use the quantity of butter, salt and heavy cream that truly decadent mashed potatoes require.
(This photo was taken in hindsight, after the taters had cooled in the fridge. They taste better than they appear.)
Do this to starchy potatoes: peel, dice, put in pot, cover with cold water, boil, cook till tender, drain, mash. Now here’s the important part: add tons of butter, heavy cream and salt. Do it little by little, each time pushing the limits of fat and sodium. Just when you’re on the brink of insanity, that’s when you stop. The point is to taste buttery, creamy, salty potatoes, but not taste just heavy cream, butter and salt. The three elements should meld together to your tastes for indulgent mashed potatoes that rival any decent restaurant.
Here you have a blank canvas. For this potato side, I added freshly ground black pepper and squeezed in a whole head of roasted garlic. Feel free to do the same. And, as always, feel free to remove your pantaloons for this ultra-comfortable comfort food.