The Petit Four

Well, thank goodness that’s over.

I could explain my prolonged absence, but I’ll save you the trouble. I think it’s quite obvious by now that I’m not the best planner when it comes to organization and making time for things when I have a gazillion responsibilities on my plate.

But now it’s February. And my schedule is looking blissfully less insane. You could even say open. I will have time for things like traveling (Barcelona, here I come!), hosting dinner parties, and getting back into my kitchen. I haven’t used my kitchen at all since Thanksgiving, save for the necessary coffee-making and reheating of the occasional pizza. I’ve mainly been subsisting on applesauce, yogurt and All-Bran for the past month. How I haven’t gotten scurvy yet, I don’t know. So February (yeah, I’m talking to YOU), let’s make a deal. Can you make nice with me this year and just…not suck? That would be a great change of pace for you. One that I’d totally dig. K, thanks.

But since it is February and for most everyone, the skies are gray and winter is still going on, here are a couple of things that I have been really into lately that make me happy.

Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros - Home
This song puts a smile on my face every time I listen to it.  It’s so happy and catchy, exactly what I’ve been needing to get me through these dark, wet Belgian days.

The xx - VCR
Everything about this is perfect - the song, the music video.  All around gorgeousness.

Also, today is Bill Murray day!  Or, in other more conventional circles, Groundhog Day.  Except here in Belgium, it’s La Chandeleur, a day to commemorate when Jesus was officially presented to the temple in Jerusalem.  But hey, since most people here are incredibly secular, they don’t really celebrate that so much.  Instead, February 2 is Pancake Day.  What.a.great.holiday.

The heart of Pancake Day is similar to Groundhog Day.  Because pancakes, or crêpes, are large and circular like the sun, you eat pancakes all day to try and coax the warm sun back into the hemisphere.  Pancakes and the potential of warmth? Sign me up!

Because everyone has their favorite go-to pancake (my personal fave would be my dad’s rendition) and I personally am still trying to recover from a particularly sweetened holiday season, I decided to go down the savory route.  And ooh boy. These things are delicious.

I nabbed this recipe off Bon Appetit and not only are they cheap and a cinch to make, but they are reminiscent of all my favorite types of street food.  Slightly salty, slightly cheesy, slightly buttery.  They’re also easy to fold so turning them into an edible shelf for toppings is easy-peasy.  I recommend topping them with a bit of harissa, a few leaves of spinach, and a dollop of hummus.  And they go well with beer, so really, what more could you want?

Sour Cream and Onion Pancakes*
Adapted from Bon Appetit

1/3 cup chopped onion
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
Worcestershire sauce, to taste
7 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
1 1/2 cups sour cream (or cottage cheese)
3 large eggs
6 tablespoons all-purpose flour

Cook onion, 1/8 teaspoon salt, and 1/8 teaspoon pepper in 2 tablespoons butter and Worcestershire sauce in a small heavy skillet over moderately low heat, stirring occasionally, until golden brown, about 12 minutes. Transfer to a bowl, then add sour cream, eggs, flour, 1/4 cup butter, remaining 1/8 teaspoon salt, and remaining 1/8 teaspoon pepper and whisk until combined.

Brush a 12-inch nonstick skillet with some of remaining butter and heat over moderate heat until hot but not smoking. Working in batches of 5, scoop 1/8-cup measures of batter into skillet and cook until undersides are golden brown, 1 to 2 minutes. Flip and cook until undersides are golden brown and pancakes are cooked through, 1 to 2 minutes more. Transfer to a baking sheet and keep warm in oven. Brush skillet with butter between batches if necessary.

*Original recipe calls for cottage cheese.  My grocery store didn’t have any so I grabbed what I thought was cottage cheese, but was, in fact, sour cream.  Turns out it didn’t matter because I followed the recipe to a T after that and it worked beautifully.

Brussels is hot.

Oh, I realize that I’m not living in New York with its near Biblical amounts of summer rain. Or that I’m not sweating and suffocating away under Chicago’s oppressive heat and humidity. But in my defense a part of my apartment is a converted sauna. And on top of that, deodorant doesn’t have a strong foothold in Europe. And un-air conditioned public transportation is used by everyone – extensively.

I’m just going to let that stew in your minds for a little bit like it has stewed in my nose for the past week.

So. I’ve been craving things that are cool, easy and on the cheap since my last financial disaster. Plus, it’s a few days away from the Fourth of July and while it may be illegal to barbecue out in public in dear, ol’ Belgium (it’s true! Daniel and I spent a week trying to figure this out.) I’m trying to keep the spirit alive.

I’ve already rocked out the potato salad, one of your quintessential picnic sides. But then there’s the ‘slaw.

Here’s the thing. I don’t really like coleslaw. The only version I’ve ever tried and didn’t dislike, but in fact, adored, is from Smoque in Chicago – a barbecue place that changed my opinion on barbecue and consequently, life, for the better. Their ‘slaw is made with a vinegar base, which enhances the crunchy awesome sweetness of the red onions and the pop of the mustard seeds mixed in with the cabbage. I adore this coleslaw so much that I like to swipe my friends’ coleslaw bowls and put them in my leftover box for later.

So after an experience like Smoque, I’m a little wary of trying to make my own coleslaw – a staple of all Fourth of July picnics and bbqs. Even if I succeeded, it wouldn’t be the same, especially if I didn’t have an equally tasty barbecue to get messy with. Then in walks Dorie Greenspan, with her French take on coleslaw using not cabbage, but carrots, and incorporating the two things I like most about Smoque’s coleslaw – the vinegar and the mustard. It’s cheap and simple. The tang from the Dijon brings the carrot’s natural sweetness away from the harvesty taste of autumn and winter and into a respectable summer side dish. I wish I could tell you that I was having more for lunch than a bowl of this, but I can’t. It’s too hot out.

Grated Carrot-Raisin ‘Slaw Salad
From Dorie Greenspan

1 pound carrots, peeled and trimmed
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon honey
1/4 cup cider vinegar
1/2 cup canola oil
Raisins, optional
Coarsely chopped walnuts, optional
Chopped parsley, optional
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

The carrots need to be grated, a job you can do by hand using the large holes of a box grater, or by push-button using the grating blade of a food processor. Either way, if the grating has caused the carrots to weep, give them a quick press between your palms to rid them of excess liquid before you toss the pieces into a serving bowl.

If you’ve used a processor, keep it plugged in and make the dressing in it; if not, use a small jar. Put the mustard, honey, vinegar and oil in the processor or jar, season with salt and pepper, and whir or shake until blended - you’ll have a thick, smooth vinaigrette.

Toss the carrots with the currants, and nuts, if you’re using these ingredients, and then, just before serving, pour over the dressing, toss the salad well and adjust the salt and pepper, if needed. If you’re using the parsley, add it last.

I am not Polish.

This is probably not surprising to a lot of people, but this is a new development for me.  For as long as I can remember, my grandmother has been going around talking about how Polish she is - enough so that I’ve been walking around thinking that I’m half Polish.

This summer my family visited some of our relatives in Columbus, Ohio and during the visit, my grandmother let a comment slip about how Polish we all were.

“Gladys, we are NOT Polish,” said my aunt Barb.  “You are French.  Your maiden name is Beaubien for pete’s sake.”

I’ve been duped by my own grandmother.  I feel so had.

So I decided to honor my not-heritage by making paczki (punchkey or poochkey) for Fat Tuesday.

Never really exposed to the art of paczki making (now I know it was for a very good reason), a quick Google search yielded a recipe that was found handwritten in someone’s Polish grandmother’s cookbook.  Plus, the recipe featured butter, tons of eggs, cream and deep frying.  Can’t go wrong, right?

12 egg yolks (but I just used 6 whole eggs)
1 tsp. salt
1/8 oz. active dry yeast (about 2 packets)
1/4 c. warm water
1/3 c. room temperature butter
1/2 c. sugar
4 1/2 c. flour
1/3 c. rum or brandy (I chose brandy because it seemed more authentic…I’m not sure how accurate that is)
1 cup warmed whipping cream (I just poured it into a glass jar, nuked it in the microwave and called it good)
1 1/2 cups preserves or cooked prunes or apples or poppy seed filling or custard or whatever delicious filling your heart desires.  To really fulfill my non-Polish potential, I went with the traditional prune filling.
Enough oil, butter, lard or shortening for deep-frying!

Beat eggs and salt in a small bowl for several minutes.  The recipe (found here) says beat until the eggs are thick and pile softly.  I didn’t know what that meant so I just beat the hell out of the eggs.  And then set aside.  These will come in later.

In a different, bigger bowl cream the butter (this is why it’s important to have it at room temp) and gradually add the sugar till it’s nice and fluffy.  While you are creaming the butter and sugar, mix the yeast and warm water together and let it sit to soften.

After the butter and sugar are creamed, slowly beat in the yeast/water mix.
Stir in 1/2 c - 1 c. of the flour into the yeast/water/butter/sugar mix.
Add the rum or brandy and half of the cream.

Beat in half of the remaining flour and add the rest of your cream.
Add the remaining flour and the egg mixture and beat for about two minutes or until the dough begins to blister.  My dough never blistered, but I just kept mixing anyway.  You’re going to want to do a good job of mixing.  I decided to stop beating the carbilicious mixture when it seemed bread-y to me.

Cover the bowl and let it rise until it doubles in size.  I’m impatient and started this recipe at 7 o’clock at night and knew that I wanted to sleep at a relatively normal hour, so I’m pretty sure I only convinced myself that it had doubled in size and it still worked out.  When it doubles, punch it down, cover and let it double again.

Punch it down for extra measure and then roll the dough out onto a floured surface.  When I did this, the dough was very elastic and kept stretching out and shrinking back in a little bit.  Which I think actually worked out really well because I have a tendency to roll things out too thin and you want your dough to be about 3/4? thick.

When it’s rolled out, cut it out with a circle or a glass.  I chose a glass that was about 2? wide to cut out the dough.

Put about 1 tbsp. of the filling in the middle of half of your cutouts.  You’re making sandwich-like things here so set aside enough to cover the filling topped bottoms.  I thought that my dough cut-outs were too small so I only used 1/2 tbsp.  Personally, I thought that there wasn’t enough filling in them when all was said and done, but others thought that it was the perfect amount so tomato tomata.

Brush the edges of the dough with water, top the bottom halves and seal the edges really well.  Let the paczki rest on a floured surface for about 20 minutes.

Grab your preferred way of deep frying (I chose shortening in my dutch oven) and deep fry until the paczki are a deep golden brown on both sides.  Pull them out of your dutch oven and let them rest and cool down.  When cool, cover with sprinkled sugar and enjoy!

I know you may be tempted to have them right away (oooh, the warm gooeyness of the prune filling.) but take my word for it, the morning after and the day after - these are delicious.  Warm, soft, gooey, fatty, deliciousness.  Also, I’m pretty sure world peace can be achieved if everyone woke up with their apartment smelling like paczki every morning.

When I brought them to the office today, I was greeted with “WTF are those?” that quickly switched to “oh.my.God.”  Now I just wish I had some left to send to my grandma.