Monsters, The Power Of An Over Easy Egg Yolk, And A Little Hope

Last night, we sheepishly ventured into a neighbor's backyard with a ridiculous abundance of cheese, salami, crackers, and 2 trays of cookies (Smitten Kitchen's  Punition Sandwiches and David Lebowitz's Chez Panisse Gingersnaps sandwiched with lemon curd).  It was probably entirely too much for the small soiree, but it seems so socially inappropriate to skimp when meeting your neighbors for the first time.  I never do this for accolades about my skills or ideas (my apologies to the boyfriend for my stress about these things), but for the sake of giving my socially inept self a conversation topic.  People are always willing to chat it up about which markets carry the "best" cheese, or where you found a great recipe and the story behind it.  Otherwise I'm afraid you get me, staring into my beer - clueless about starting a conversation with a stranger.  Nice shoes.  What do you do for a living?  Which house is your's?  Sure - those are all a start, but I'm afraid that beyond that I fall flat.

Max, our resident taster, bottomless-stomached, challenge of a lifetime, 11 year old loves to talk about his favorite foods and why he thinks I'm the "most amazing cook" (sometimes).  He has, for the most part, been a fairly typical kid in his food habits (which I should clarify with the exceptions).  He doesn't do green, or other vegetables, and often requests "real food" when he has himself convinced that the current offerings don't please his palette.  He will eat pepperoni pizza or chicken nuggets 3 times a day - until its time to switch to burgers and anything he can put a slurry of honey mustard and barbecue sauce on.  Of course dessert in any form is always welcome in abundance.  Lets face it - his beloved magic sauce turns everything into a sweet, sticky dinner-dessert.  And then we have those exceptions:  Manchego and quince paste, wild mushroom truffle ravioli and potato gnocchi from Fairway Market in New York City are the nearest and dearest foods to his heart.  One of the first times the three of us (the boyfriend, me and Max) had dinner together, it was a wine, cheese, cured meats, fruit sort of affair - like the romantic picnic you take to the park with that guy you think you might really like.  Except this happened in my living room with a 10 year old, and far too much conversation about video games and money making schemes.  Max immediately started singing the, "Its terrific!" praises of Manchego and quince paste (the national dessert of Uruguay he learned from a Montessori project) - two things the boyfriend had never even known were an option.  I got several seconds of wide blue eyes and a lean in to say, "You've created a monster" in the grocery store aisle.  Yes, sir, I believe I have.  I love that about him.

I all too often find myself going into dinner with my guns half-cocked for that, "What do you mean I have to eat that?" conversation - I'm convinced that Max won't find the evening's menu suitable.  He really does have "surprising tastebuds".   It is shocking every time he takes a bite, looks around, and mumbles through a mouthful, "That's really good."

Last Saturday evening he encountered the Croque Madame; a classic French bistro sandwich, that I will be the first to tell you, is a lead bullet of rich delicious.  

I should preface my surprise with filling you in on what a Max sandwich is like - bread, salami, pepperoni, or cheese, never more than one filling, never a tomato, a hint of lettuce or a condiment.  So when I handed him the behemoth of Gruyere, ham, bechamel, more Gruyere, and an over easy egg - the last thing I expected was to check back in on him was to hear him mumble, "The ham and the egg are the best part!" (through his mouthful, of course).  It was date night afterall - we don't eat like this every night - so he got the luxury of dinner in front of the computer at his desk.  The way the egg yolk soaks into the bread and makes all its salty, warm, comfort you like nothing else, components that much better changed my life the first time I sank into one.  We were in a Belgian bistro - in Omaha, not really Belguim (do I ever wish!) - drinking this beer that knocked it over the top (what was that again, Eric?).  I took one bite and peered across the table at him with that look - the one that he knows says "My God, this is it!  This is food!  This is why we eat!  This is the exact reason why I rolled my tank out of bed this morning!".  Its a sandwich and some booze; its those moments that he knows he scored the win.  In my mind all is right with the world, and I'm on top.  I too easily forget how powerfully comforting and delicious an over easy egg yolk can be.  I feel like we had a moment (me and the sandwich, me and the world, and then me and the kiddo).  They are fleeting, but worth it every time.

As I digress, I have this tub of mascarpone in the fridge (leftover from this) that I can't possibly let go to waste.  I do believe it will turn into this.  I might be getting a little to much ruffle in my mama feathers thinking that I can get the royal 11 year old to eat cauliflower, but without a little hope, where would we be?

Now What?

I've been spoiled in the last few weeks at work.  With the holidays in full swing, travel, and special menus, I've managed to skip out on Thursday pizza prep, Friday pasta making madness, and the Saturday morning breakfast until 1:30.  This week, however, presented itself with business as usual. 

I was quite shocked when my better half called, in the midst of rolling pasta sheets for lasagna, on Friday afternoon.  I think he picked up early in our relationship that I really am not much for phone conversation, and we generally keep such communication fairly succinct, and most anything, short of an emergency, we deal with off the clock.  I immediately jumped to the conclusion that something terrible had happened, but was left stumbling my way through, "What?!", "No!", and lots of, "Oh, my god!" to learn about this.  I know that I received a lot of attention locally and among family and friends, but I never imagined that anyone in the rest of the world had any idea what I was up to, or was interested for that matter.

I think I fell in love with New York City long before I even knew of its existence.  I'll spare you most of the over the top, romantic notions I have of living in a city where I can eat anything I can imagine, or find any ingredient at practically any hour.  I will tell you though that the first time I tasted a real New York pizza (John's - on Bleeker St in the Village), and an evening I spent stuffing my face full of pastries and cafe au lait in front of the Balthazar Bakery changed my life forever.  The smoked sturgeon at Zabar's leaves me teary eyed, and it really is true what they say about the water.

Up until yesterday afternoon, I set the bar of accomplishment at getting a little play in the Big Apple.  Whether it be a chance to live and work there, recognition of some sort, or being a name that was familiar to its chefs and restaurant professionals.  Although this was not an interview or front page story, millions of people around the world will read my name tomorrow morning.  I'm just a girl from a small, Maine town, striving to be better than ordinary in Lincoln, Nebraska.  If this is what it means to me to "make it", then now what?

At least there are still Valentine's Day cookies to be ordered.  Feel free to contact me for details  allisonpvdb@gmail.com

Love Is In the Air!

I've spent the last few weeks in the flurry of festivities.  Working in the restaurant industry leaves me with a schedule generally opposite from the rest of the world.  When you have free time; nights, weekends, holidays, I'm busy creating the environment for you to eat, drink, and be merry.  Combined with the storm of cookies I baked and a lovely trip to Illinois, I've been left with little time to gather my thoughts on the Gourmet project.  As things head into the quiet winter months, I'll finish up the photos and my thoughts on that.

Spend enough time in my company and it doesn't take long to pick up on the way I bounce from project to project, often only half-finishing my tasks.  In classic form, but with a vow to finish what's left on the last adventure and keep a better journal in future endeavors, I'm on to something new.  I miss the warm, sweet smells of cookies filling my tiny apartment.  I miss anxiously waiting on timers, hoping that everything finishes as it should, or the silky texture of melted chocolate and royal icing.  So, with Valentine's Day right around the corner, what better way to get back onto the wagon I love than with another great variety of treats?

Lovebug Cookies (chocolate cut-outs, adorably decorated), Conversation Hearts (just like the classic candy, but on a sugar cookie), Peppermint Lovies (heart-shaped peppermint patties), Dulce de Leche Wafer Cookies, Sweet & Salty Brownies, and Cherry Linzer Windows (pecan and cherry sandwich cookies) will be available in boxes of 36 (6 of each variety) for $40.

  

Please place your order and pre-pay by February 1st.  I'm happy to ship anywhere in the US, my treat.  I can be reached via this blog, Facebook, or at allisonpvdb@gmail.com

Lets keep the winter warm and delicious!

Almost done. Almost.

I feel ridiculously guilty about my lack of blog activity.  Rest assured, my adoring public, I've been elbows deep in cookie dough for days.  With 8 recipes left to complete tomorrow, I hope to have everything packaged and ready to roll on Wednesday.  Again, anyone wishing to purchase cookies, please let me know in the next handful of days.  I couldn't bear the thought of getting something that wasn't of the highest quality I could possibly provide.
It's late.  The next 2 days are jam packed with final baking, finishes, packaging and shipping.  I assure you I'll have updates and pictures ready to roll after the waters have settled.

The Big 4-0

Tonight, in between dishes, laundry, dinner, Cub Scouts, and Charlie Mingus - the world's most regal beagle, I finished the 40th cookie variety.  I wrapped the evening up with a remake of 1975's Almond Bolas; the Portuguese almond cookie I made last week and entirely forgot to add the sugar to.  I was quite careful to remember it this time, and the result was a beautiful little cookie with so many interesting characteristics.  Nutty and chewy like a macaroon, the center reminding me strangely of scrambled eggs (I couldn't help but think of breakfast when I remembered the addition of breadcrumbs to these), and the crunch from the almond on top. Not too sweet, it would be a lovely cookie with some afternoon tea.

I also prepared the cookie portion of Sparkling Lemon Sandwich Cookies, a delicate little lemon shortbread rolled in sanding sugar, which I'll assemble with the filling right before they're packaged; Navette Sucre, or Sugar Shuttles, a French butter cookie shaped like a loom shuttle, coated with egg white and sugar; and Polish Apricot Cookies, a delicate cream cheese dough wrapped around a filling of apricot, golden raisins, honey, cinnamon, and orange marmalade - much like a fat, overfilled rugelach without the walnuts.  In my love affair with all things New York City, I'm enamored with rugelach.  I can't wait to get into these.

With 28 recipes left to make, I feel bittersweet about nearing the end of this project.  It wouldn't take me more than 3 days of steady work to get them done, but I find myself wanting to drag it out longer.  Despite the stress of real life bearing down on me, these cookies have become such an extension of who I am.  They've provided me with much needed discipline and focus, and an outlet for the only way, it seems, that I can really connect with people.  I spend more time with them than I do my friends, and sometimes it seems my family.  I've been so focused on ingredients, recipes, when to bake what, packaging, who will receive an insane box of cookies, etc - that finishing ends up feeling a lot like the first time I moved away from home.  I'm not sure what's going to happen next, but the future is exciting and terrifying.

In the event that anyone is interested, I have several extra boxes available.  They can be purchased for $68, in honor of 68 years of Gourmet magazine.  Please feel free to contact me at allisonpvdb@gmail.com

Sundays Are Best

I love Sunday mornings.  Regardless of the piles of things I have to do to maintain my motherly duties, we always make what I've coined "fat kid breakfast", and we always read the New York Times.  Breakfast this morning was a baked dish of sausage, onions, green pepper, eggs and cheese with broiled english muffins.  I swear the boyfriend is a farm boy at heart, despite his crisp shoes and button-up shirts, and I love the homey simplicity of midwestern food.  Everything feels better with cheese on it in December.
My New York Times routine is always the same:  I flip through checking the headlines of the Travel section and the Week In Review, grab the magazine, and read the Modern Love article in Sunday Styles then set it aside to read the wedding announcements later.  My business in the magazine is the food article.  Amanda Hesser is among one of my favorite food writers, Cooking With Dexter is a charming account of adventures in the kitchen with the author's inquisitive young son, the other contributors always have such interesting historic and cultural information.  This week's recipe is asado negro, a Venezuelan Christmas roast braised in white wine vinegar, dry red wine, and a sultry dark caramel.  The article claims to "make a mockery of pot roast".  I want so badly to make it for dinner tonight, but was reminded that capitalizing oven space and time is not a good idea.  The day I spent making Thanksgiving dinner combined with extra work shifts and a sick kid left me feeling a little panicked and behind in cookie production.
I have 31 varieties completed, leaving me with 37.  Late into the night, yesterday, I baked 1979's Linzer Bars that filled my kitchen with the aromas of hazelnuts, raspberry and lemon.  The creamy nuttiness of the hazelnuts is perfectly balanced by the tart filling.  There were also 1994's Basler Brunsli - a Swiss chocolate almond spice cookie that reminded me of a dry French macaron.  I made 1958's Brazil Nut Crescents which showcase the rarely utilized brazil nut in a rich, delicate butter cookie.  Lastly, I put together the dough for 1996's Anise-Scented Fig and Date Swirls.  I love opening my refrigerator to find rolls, bowls, and discs of chilled dough waiting to be cut or shaped before going into the oven. 
I really do believe there to be something magical about the warmth of the oven, the mess of flour and sugar, and this time of year.

A Few Of My Favorite Things

Cornetti.  Bourbon County Stout.  Beach House's Teen Dream.

Last night, rather than going to bed as I should have, I stayed up and baked Cornetti.

An old family recipe from Turin, it was featured in January 1989's issue of Gourmet, during the height of America's introductory love affair with Italian food.  Made with ground almonds and cornmeal, these cookies acquire a coarse, gravelly texture.  During the 2 day process, resting in the fridge overnight and then on parchment lined trays for 2 hours, the dough is permeated by chopped candied orange peel.  These are my new favorite cookie.  The texture lends interest and surprise, and the bright orange notes remind me of summery evenings during these blustery winter days.

As the weather gets colder, I look to just about anything to keep me warm.  I've fallen in love over the course of the summer with Goose Island's Bourbon County Stout.  A small batch beer, aged for 18 months in bourbon barrels, the warm caramel and vanilla notes alongside the rich chocolaty stout deliciousness is my kryptonite.  I find the bourbon characteristics to bring a fantastic warming quality to the palate.  One of my responsibilities at work is to keep ice cream on hand, and my latest flavor is bourbon molasses.  For the same reason that I love bourbon county stout, the bourbon in the ice cream adds such a warm feeling.

Lastly, I'm loving listening to Beach House lately, particularly the album Teen Dream.  Victoria Legrand's voice is so rich and smokey.  Add it to your collection for sure.

I've been awake since 3:30 this morning.  I baked some beautiful bread, bought a Christmas tree and all the trimmings, had dinner with my little pieced-together family, and although I didn't get any cookies done, I hope tomorrow is more productive.  Peace out, ya'll.