I have never tried Feta. I'm afraid of it. Brine makes me uncomfortable. However, I do enjoy that is still firm even though it is swimming in, ugh, brine, and when you take it out, it crumbles. It's a fun cheese. I prefer bocconcini, I think it is the cutest of all the cheeses.
Tynna has been searching for the perfect Feta since I moved to London eight months ago. As I mentioned, I know nothing about Feta, but she asked me which kind she should try and I suggested Silani, since it is such a huge, widely stocked brand. Of course, I was wrong. It sat in her fridge for a really long time, unopened, but since it had an expiry date of March 2011, I assumed it would be safe to eat. So I chopped up some tomato, onion, cucumber and pepper for her Greek salad and opened up the Silani Feta cheese container. Ewwwwww! Mush City. It must have been pre-crumbled and since it was swimming in, ugh, brine, it was more like cottage cheese than Feta.
And thus began the quest.
The Search For the Perfect Feta
I was determined to find the Perfect Feta. I knew it had to exist because we used it at Tazzi's Cafe for our Greek salads. I could not remember what brand we used (though now I remember it was Saputo) so I went the European grocery store down the street thinking they could help me. Micaela and I walked over in the 35 degree heat and since there was only one brand of Feta there, in a gigantic yellow tub for $9.99, I asked the scary female grocery clerk what she suggested. She gave me a quick onceover, determined that I was not a swarthy Greek and said in a thick accent:
"Feta, ah I dun't know." We decided to look around anyways, since imported groceries are my favourite kind. We both almost lost our stomachs, however, when we got to the butcher aisle and saw chicken feet.
We moved on to Metro, figuring that we could definitely find the Perfect Feta there. We were spoiled for choice. There were so many varieties. Cow's milk, sheep's milk, goat's milk. Brick, crumbled, cubed. So many varieties, which to choose? I started to feel overwhelmed and considered taking a grocery store poll a la Anna and Kristina's Grocery Bag, but decided to give the deli a shot instead. I wasn't dressed or made-up enough for a poll.
Thankfully, the deli offered three varieties of Feta: classic Greek, light, and Canadian. I asked the large and intimidating counter lady for one block of each kind. While she was packing it up, I felt a little silly for getting such small quantities of cheese and started to explain why I was making such a weird request. I realized that she wasn't listening to me and my voice trailed off. "She doesn't care..." I said part to myself, part to Micaela, and part to the snotty cow behind the counter. She ignored me, of course, but Micaela got a laugh out of it.
The Outcome: Tynna tried each cheese, and the Canadian version won. Quest complete!
July 11, 2010
July 7, 2010
My (Kitchenaid!) Biggest (Kitchenaid!) Fantasy (Kitchenaid!)
My hand mixer broke the other day, and I am devastated. It only cost $11 at Zellers and I bought it almost 3 years ago, but still. I have the most ill-equipped kitchen in the universe, and the broken hand mixer only makes it worse. In retrospect it probably could have been avoided, but I am The Accidental Martha so of course I would do something stupid to break my mixer. Allow me to explain:
How I Broke My $11 Hand Mixer
Oliver's birthday party is on Saturday and I am making him a Toy Story cake. I made a color-flow design of Buzz and Woody to put on the cake and it turned out awesome (on my third attempt. The first time I used too small of a tip, the second time I didn't flatten my parchment paper enough and Buzz's leg fell off). When I went to mix the Color Flow (Wilton, damn you and your expensive but convenient cake decorating products. Thank goodness for Michael's 40% off coupons), I used my hand mixer not anticipating that the mixture was going to be really, really thick. It was so thick that while I was mixing it, I heard a whirring sound accompanied by the smell of burning plastic. Being me, I ignored it . Moments later, with a loud grinding noise, it died.
RIP you cheap piece of crap.
I know now that I should have used my stand mixer. Now, I say "stand mixer", but take that with a grain of salt. It is a very old, hand-me-down Sunbeam that used to belong to my mom. It vibrates a lot, so as it is mixing things, it begins creeping along to the edge of the table. It needs a vise to hold it down, which I don't have, so I have to hold it with one hand. Essentially, it is a very large and cumbersome hand mixer.
On to my fantasy:
Dear Kitchenaid, I Love You and I Hope You're Reading This
My biggest fantasy is that this blog will become really popular and Kitchenaid will hear about it and send me a lot of free stuff. All I want in the world (almost more than I want babies) is a Kitchenaid stand mixer. I have dreams about it. When I'm using the ol' Sunbeam, sometimes I fantasize about it being a Kitchenaid. A newer, sleeker, fancier stand mixer that does things my stand mixer wont do. Ahhh... Kitchenaid, why must you be so expensive?
How I Broke My $11 Hand Mixer
Oliver's birthday party is on Saturday and I am making him a Toy Story cake. I made a color-flow design of Buzz and Woody to put on the cake and it turned out awesome (on my third attempt. The first time I used too small of a tip, the second time I didn't flatten my parchment paper enough and Buzz's leg fell off). When I went to mix the Color Flow (Wilton, damn you and your expensive but convenient cake decorating products. Thank goodness for Michael's 40% off coupons), I used my hand mixer not anticipating that the mixture was going to be really, really thick. It was so thick that while I was mixing it, I heard a whirring sound accompanied by the smell of burning plastic. Being me, I ignored it . Moments later, with a loud grinding noise, it died.
RIP you cheap piece of crap.
I know now that I should have used my stand mixer. Now, I say "stand mixer", but take that with a grain of salt. It is a very old, hand-me-down Sunbeam that used to belong to my mom. It vibrates a lot, so as it is mixing things, it begins creeping along to the edge of the table. It needs a vise to hold it down, which I don't have, so I have to hold it with one hand. Essentially, it is a very large and cumbersome hand mixer.
On to my fantasy:
Dear Kitchenaid, I Love You and I Hope You're Reading This
My biggest fantasy is that this blog will become really popular and Kitchenaid will hear about it and send me a lot of free stuff. All I want in the world (almost more than I want babies) is a Kitchenaid stand mixer. I have dreams about it. When I'm using the ol' Sunbeam, sometimes I fantasize about it being a Kitchenaid. A newer, sleeker, fancier stand mixer that does things my stand mixer wont do. Ahhh... Kitchenaid, why must you be so expensive?
July 4, 2010
How I Made Macarons My Bitch
I do not know why the internet is full of blogs and websites dedicated to the art of baking macarons.cookies for goodness sake. Yes, they are fancy little French cookies. Yes, they take some time and skill to master. But they are not the be-all and end-all of the baking world. They are just cookies, not something to be afraid of.
I decided to give these pretentious drops of French heaven a shot. I fully and thoroughly researched the technique of baking them and bought the proper ingredients. I even left the egg whites out for 24 hours, just like they said (ewwwww). I meringue-d my egg whites, I folded them in delicately, I actually followed the directions. I drew one-inch circles on parchment and piped the dough (mixture? batter?) correctly. They looked just like the pictures (mostly, I'm new at piping meringue. It is not the same as frosting).
I put them in the oven. This is where things started to go wrong. I watched them very closely, just like I was told. I was delighted when I watched the little "feet" begin to form. Then I figured that since they were doing okay, I could step away from the oven for a minute or two.
A word of advice: never walk away from the oven when you are baking macarons!!
There is about a 5 second window between perfectly cooked and burnt to a crisp.
Luckily, I learned my lesson the first time around. I made another batch, and they turned out perfectly. I would just like to say that le macaron is not as hard as they would have you believe.
I decided to give these pretentious drops of French heaven a shot. I fully and thoroughly researched the technique of baking them and bought the proper ingredients. I even left the egg whites out for 24 hours, just like they said (ewwwww). I meringue-d my egg whites, I folded them in delicately, I actually followed the directions. I drew one-inch circles on parchment and piped the dough (mixture? batter?) correctly. They looked just like the pictures (mostly, I'm new at piping meringue. It is not the same as frosting).
I put them in the oven. This is where things started to go wrong. I watched them very closely, just like I was told. I was delighted when I watched the little "feet" begin to form. Then I figured that since they were doing okay, I could step away from the oven for a minute or two.
A word of advice: never walk away from the oven when you are baking macarons!!
There is about a 5 second window between perfectly cooked and burnt to a crisp.
Luckily, I learned my lesson the first time around. I made another batch, and they turned out perfectly. I would just like to say that le macaron is not as hard as they would have you believe.
Why You Shouldn't Let Me Use a Quilting Rotary Blade
I got married nearly two years ago, and it was a complete DIY wedding. It was beautiful, and fun and really inexpensive because we did everything ourselves. I scored my Alfred Sung dress for $300 because it was a discontinued style. I had the reception at a restaurant instead of a hall, so I saved thousands. I actually made money off the ceremony because the minister was going senile and kept missing appointments and showed up 45 minutes late for the rehearsal and gave us $60 in total for the inconvenience. My mom is a floral designer, so she did my flowers as a gift to me. It was an amazing wedding done for way under $10 000.
Part of DIY weddings is doing it yourself. My mom came up with the awesome idea of making a "cake" out of three hatboxes and using it to hold cards. We bought this beautiful taupe/gold fabric on clearance from Wal-Mart, and some brown satin ribbon and used some leftover silk flowers from my bouquet. The idea was to cut the bottoms out of the top two tiers, cut a slit in the top, glue the tiers together, cover it in fabric and use the ribbon to hide the join. How could you possibly screw that up? Well, bear in mind that it's me.
Everything was going according to plan (I had actually made a plan this time). The bottoms were cut out and I was ready to cut the fabric to size. I thought that if I used a rotary blade for quilting that it would be quicker and look a lot better than cutting the fabric by hand. What I failed to factor in was how sharp rotary blades are. I did alright with the first couple of panels, and then the old carelessness kicked in. Whoop, rotary blade right across the thumb. And not just the thumb, but the thumbnail. Imagine, if you will, the amount of pressure one must apply in order to cut a fingernail open. It hurt like the dickens and bled like crazy. Thankfully I am no stranger to craft-induced injury, so I wrapped some toilet paper around it and went on with my crafting. I finished the card cake and it looked beautiful, but my finger didn't heal in time for the wedding. Thank goodness for nail polish. (It was also too cold outside for the spray glue that I used to adhere the fabric to the boxes. So I did it inside. Without opening the window. And I got glue all over the floor because I didn't lay any paper down, but whatever.)
I bet Martha would know to keep her fingers out of the way when using a rotary blade.
Part of DIY weddings is doing it yourself. My mom came up with the awesome idea of making a "cake" out of three hatboxes and using it to hold cards. We bought this beautiful taupe/gold fabric on clearance from Wal-Mart, and some brown satin ribbon and used some leftover silk flowers from my bouquet. The idea was to cut the bottoms out of the top two tiers, cut a slit in the top, glue the tiers together, cover it in fabric and use the ribbon to hide the join. How could you possibly screw that up? Well, bear in mind that it's me.
Everything was going according to plan (I had actually made a plan this time). The bottoms were cut out and I was ready to cut the fabric to size. I thought that if I used a rotary blade for quilting that it would be quicker and look a lot better than cutting the fabric by hand. What I failed to factor in was how sharp rotary blades are. I did alright with the first couple of panels, and then the old carelessness kicked in. Whoop, rotary blade right across the thumb. And not just the thumb, but the thumbnail. Imagine, if you will, the amount of pressure one must apply in order to cut a fingernail open. It hurt like the dickens and bled like crazy. Thankfully I am no stranger to craft-induced injury, so I wrapped some toilet paper around it and went on with my crafting. I finished the card cake and it looked beautiful, but my finger didn't heal in time for the wedding. Thank goodness for nail polish. (It was also too cold outside for the spray glue that I used to adhere the fabric to the boxes. So I did it inside. Without opening the window. And I got glue all over the floor because I didn't lay any paper down, but whatever.)
I bet Martha would know to keep her fingers out of the way when using a rotary blade.
July 3, 2010
The Science of Baking
Until very recently, I could not bake to save my life. Cakes always turned out too dense, meringue never meringue-ed, cookies burned. I would leave a trail of devastation in my wake. Mom and Mr. Town told me that I could do it, that cooking was nothing to be scared of, but I didn't believe them. One day I decided to just go for it, and slowly started learning the tricks of the trade. I love the internet for this reason. Anything you want to know is readily available. I learned how to decorate cakes and make Wilton roses from YouTube. I mastered macarons from other peoples' blogs (more on that another day). Not that I didn't make many, many, many mistakes along the way, but eventually things began to click.
I love that the basic ingredients for almost anything you make are eggs, sugar and butter. Depending on the ratio of ingredients and the techniques you use to mix them together, all kinds of amazing things happen. The day I made lemon tarts, I was astounded by the fact that cooking egg whites, sugar and lemon juice together starts out liquid and turns into a solid. Well, solid-ish. I don't understand why things work they way they do, but I love trying things out and discovering what will happen.
I made my own Dulce De Leche as a filling for my macarons from a recipe I found in a magazine a billion years ago. If you put a can of sweetened condensed milk in a pot of simmering water for a few hours, it turns into the most delicious caramel. How? Why does whipping cream turn into whipped cream if you mix it with a little sugar and beat it for awhile? How do egg whites go from liquid, to foam, to thick enough to not fall out of the bowl if you turn it over your head? Baking is this most amazing thing that's happened to me. (Hobby-wise, no offense to my hubby)
I love that the basic ingredients for almost anything you make are eggs, sugar and butter. Depending on the ratio of ingredients and the techniques you use to mix them together, all kinds of amazing things happen. The day I made lemon tarts, I was astounded by the fact that cooking egg whites, sugar and lemon juice together starts out liquid and turns into a solid. Well, solid-ish. I don't understand why things work they way they do, but I love trying things out and discovering what will happen.
I made my own Dulce De Leche as a filling for my macarons from a recipe I found in a magazine a billion years ago. If you put a can of sweetened condensed milk in a pot of simmering water for a few hours, it turns into the most delicious caramel. How? Why does whipping cream turn into whipped cream if you mix it with a little sugar and beat it for awhile? How do egg whites go from liquid, to foam, to thick enough to not fall out of the bowl if you turn it over your head? Baking is this most amazing thing that's happened to me. (Hobby-wise, no offense to my hubby)
One Excellent Thing, One Bonehead Thing
As much as I would love to blame my lack of grace under pressure on outside factors, the reality is that every bonehead thing I do is a direct result of my carelessness. I was beginning to think that I had finally gotten things under control, that I could work my way around a kitchen without causing any fatalities. Ha, yeah right.
Last week I was incredibly productive, managing to make lemon tarts and a quiche in one afternoon, with no trouble. I have never made lemon tarts before, since I don't really care for lemon, but figured that I need to add more treats to my repertoire. The lemon curd turned out perfectly, on my very first try. I only got one tiny eggshell in the mixture, which I managed to spoon out. My pastry was a little puffy, since I did not realize that you really have to puncture the bottoms when you bake them without any filling. Aside from that, they were excellent. And the quiche, well, it was heavenly.
Anyways, since that turned out well, I thought that my days of bumbling about and ruining things were over. My stepbrother's son's birthday is coming up, and I am making his birthday cake. I want to use marshmallow fluff for the filling, so the other day I decided to make some homemade fluff and fill some chocolate cupcakes with it. And I had a craving for chocolate cream cheese frosting, so I made some of that too.
The Excellent Thing:
I found a recipe online for homemade marshmallow fluff and I had no idea how simple it was! Egg whites, sugar, vanilla and a little water. Beat over a bain Marie until fluffy and voila! Easy peasy. The chocolate cream cheese frosting was flawless as well. Cream cheese, butter, icing sugar, vanilla and chocolate. I didn't have any chocolate squares left, so I used Hersey's cocoa powder instead. It didn't give it the same richness that the baking chocolate would have given it, but it was still delicious. (I didn't feel like making the cupcakes from scratch, so I just used a mix. When I bake the cake, I'll make it the real thing.)
The cupcakes baked perfectly, the frosting was sweet and rich and the marshmallow fluff was gooey and delicious. My sister, Tynna, helped me scoop out the centers of the cupcakes, and inject the marshmallow fluff inside. I also taught her how to frost them. We called them "our" cupcakes. They were gorgeous and tasty and not one thing went wrong. Yay for me!
The Bonehead Thing:
Cleaning my kitchen is always a chore. I have eczema on my hands and no dishwasher, so washing the dishes is a literal pain. I tend to put it off as long as possible, but then things pile up and it's even more of a nightmare. Ugh. Long story short, I did the dishes and cleaned the kitchen, but while I was doing so I put the George Foreman in the oven to get it out of my way. The rule in our house is whoever uses the Foreman cleans the Foreman, and my husband made hamburgers on it. I finished my cleaning and completely forgot the Foreman.
I preheated my oven to bake the cupcakes and forgot that it was still inside. About 20 minutes later, just as I was about to put the tins in the oven, I remembered what was already inside. In a panic, I grabbed my oven mitts and yanked the Foreman out of the oven. If only I would have remembered that the grease tray was resting on top, and full of hamburger grease. It tipped over onto the burner and the whole oven burst into flames.
I wish I could explain in a way that you could really understand exactly how much fire came out of the oven. A wall of flame shot up and out, with me standing directly in front of it. It was an inferno. It was the mouth of Hell. It was the grease fire to end all grease fires. And if that wasn't stupid enough, instead of closing the door to contain the fire, I stood there and started screaming. Not just a little startled scream, but full-out, movie quality screams. Many of them. My husband was standing right beside me, and all he did was jump out of the way.
Eventually, the fire burned itself out. Thank goodness, because I was just about to throw water on it. Yup. Even though I know that you NEVER EVER throw water on a grease fire, in my panic I nearly did.
I bet Martha never set her kitchen on fire. And if she did, I'm sure she had a fire extinguisher on hand.
Last week I was incredibly productive, managing to make lemon tarts and a quiche in one afternoon, with no trouble. I have never made lemon tarts before, since I don't really care for lemon, but figured that I need to add more treats to my repertoire. The lemon curd turned out perfectly, on my very first try. I only got one tiny eggshell in the mixture, which I managed to spoon out. My pastry was a little puffy, since I did not realize that you really have to puncture the bottoms when you bake them without any filling. Aside from that, they were excellent. And the quiche, well, it was heavenly.
Anyways, since that turned out well, I thought that my days of bumbling about and ruining things were over. My stepbrother's son's birthday is coming up, and I am making his birthday cake. I want to use marshmallow fluff for the filling, so the other day I decided to make some homemade fluff and fill some chocolate cupcakes with it. And I had a craving for chocolate cream cheese frosting, so I made some of that too.
The Excellent Thing:
I found a recipe online for homemade marshmallow fluff and I had no idea how simple it was! Egg whites, sugar, vanilla and a little water. Beat over a bain Marie until fluffy and voila! Easy peasy. The chocolate cream cheese frosting was flawless as well. Cream cheese, butter, icing sugar, vanilla and chocolate. I didn't have any chocolate squares left, so I used Hersey's cocoa powder instead. It didn't give it the same richness that the baking chocolate would have given it, but it was still delicious. (I didn't feel like making the cupcakes from scratch, so I just used a mix. When I bake the cake, I'll make it the real thing.)
The cupcakes baked perfectly, the frosting was sweet and rich and the marshmallow fluff was gooey and delicious. My sister, Tynna, helped me scoop out the centers of the cupcakes, and inject the marshmallow fluff inside. I also taught her how to frost them. We called them "our" cupcakes. They were gorgeous and tasty and not one thing went wrong. Yay for me!
The Bonehead Thing:
Cleaning my kitchen is always a chore. I have eczema on my hands and no dishwasher, so washing the dishes is a literal pain. I tend to put it off as long as possible, but then things pile up and it's even more of a nightmare. Ugh. Long story short, I did the dishes and cleaned the kitchen, but while I was doing so I put the George Foreman in the oven to get it out of my way. The rule in our house is whoever uses the Foreman cleans the Foreman, and my husband made hamburgers on it. I finished my cleaning and completely forgot the Foreman.
I preheated my oven to bake the cupcakes and forgot that it was still inside. About 20 minutes later, just as I was about to put the tins in the oven, I remembered what was already inside. In a panic, I grabbed my oven mitts and yanked the Foreman out of the oven. If only I would have remembered that the grease tray was resting on top, and full of hamburger grease. It tipped over onto the burner and the whole oven burst into flames.
I wish I could explain in a way that you could really understand exactly how much fire came out of the oven. A wall of flame shot up and out, with me standing directly in front of it. It was an inferno. It was the mouth of Hell. It was the grease fire to end all grease fires. And if that wasn't stupid enough, instead of closing the door to contain the fire, I stood there and started screaming. Not just a little startled scream, but full-out, movie quality screams. Many of them. My husband was standing right beside me, and all he did was jump out of the way.
Eventually, the fire burned itself out. Thank goodness, because I was just about to throw water on it. Yup. Even though I know that you NEVER EVER throw water on a grease fire, in my panic I nearly did.
I bet Martha never set her kitchen on fire. And if she did, I'm sure she had a fire extinguisher on hand.
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