post-virus recuperation

The recent dearth of activity here at I Don't Eat Bacon is the fault of a virus that completely knocked the crap out of my computer (and a little bit of pre-marathon taper madness, when I found myself completely useless at any task involving sustained attention). We are now back in commission, but not without the loss of the program I use to upload photos to the computer. Annoying as this may be, I'm not letting it hold me back. There are overdue recipes to be posted!

I lost track of when I prepared these, but I can do my best to recreate my thoughts about the results (which I'd drafted in a Word document that, of course, was lost when the computer guys "fixed" the computer).

Catch-up recipe #1:
Vegetarian cassoulet
Adapted from Gourmet, March 2008
Serves 4 to 6
Total time: 1 hr 15 minutes

This falls squarely into the "Sounds too simple to be good, but is really, really good" category. After eating it at a friend's house, I was excited to try it out myself, but I worried that my eating buddies (a k a parents) wouldn't be satisfied by it. Whether it's in their heads or their stomachs, my parents tend to think that if there's not an animal protein on the plate, it ain't a meal. But with steamed broccolini and a mound of cooked grain pilaf, this left them extremely satisfied, both hunger- and taste-wise.

Another note: The original recipe outlines making the cassoulet on the stovetop, starting by sauteeing the vegetables in olive oil, then adding beans and herbs. When my friend's mother made it for us, she bypassed all that and simply threw everything in the oven, sans the oil, and baked it. This approach appealed to me because: it tasted amazing without the extra fat; it involved far less attention during the cooking; and, best of all, there'd be fewer vessels and utensils to clean in the end. Baking it meant less surface area to cover with garlic crumbs (see below), so I meant to halve the quantities for the crumbs. However, my notes suggest that I halved the bread crumbs and oil, but not the garlic, parsley, salt or pepper. I can't figure out what happened, so the amounts below match exactly my suspect notes from the night I made this. Good luck!

{for cassoulet}
1 large red onion, cut into 1-inch pieces
4 medium carrots, halved lengthwise and cut into 1-inch-wide pieces
3 celery ribs, cut into 1-inch-wide pieces
4 garlic cloves, chopped
4 thyme sprigs
2 parsley sprigs
1 Turkish bay leaf (I used two; what we have in our spice cabinet is certainly older than I)
1/8 tsp. ground cloves
3 1/2 cans (15 oz. each) cannellini or Great Northern beans, rinsed and drained
1 qt. water

{for garlic crumbs}
2 c. coarse fresh bread crumbs
3 Tbsp. olive oil
1 Tbsp. chopped garlic
1/4 c. chopped parsley
1/4 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. black pepper


{make cassoulet}
Preheat oven to 350* F. Combine all ingredients in a large, deep casserole dish. Bake 45-60 minutes, or until liquid is mostly absorbed and vegetables are tender.

{make garlic crumbs}
While cassoulet bakes, toss bread crumbs with oil, garlic, salt and pepper in a bowl until well coated. Spread on a baking pan and toast in the same 350* oven. After 6-7 minutes, stir crumbs. Continue cooking until crisp and golden, another 6-8 minutes.

Remove pan from oven and allow crumbs to cool. Return to bowl and combine with parsley.

{seal the deal}
When there's still a bit too much water left, remove cassoulet from oven and pluck out herb springs and bay leaf. Mash some of the beans with a fork or spoon; this will help thicken the surrounding liquid, which is very nice. Top cassoulet with garlic crumbs, then return to oven to continue cooking and to crisp the top.


Catch-up recipe #2:
Pumpkin molasses cookies
Adapted from The Healthy Everythingtarian
Yield: I forget, but it was more than the 2 dozen promised in the original. Like, I think it was twice as many.
Time: 15 minutes prep, 10-12 minutes baking time

I made these the same day as the cassoulet. My only real logic behind that was, Hey, the oven's already set to 350* . . . why not bake some cookies? The fact that I think anytime is cookie time may have been a factor.

2 c. whole wheat flour
1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking soda
1 Tbsp. ground cinnamon
3/4 tsp. ground ginger, plus more for dusting cookies
1/2 tsp. ground nutmeg
1/4 c. wheat germ
1/2 c. pureed cooked pumpkin
1/4 c. molasses
1/4 c. canola oil
3/4 c. evaporated cane juice (or sugar or other sweetener), divided
2 Tbsp. water

1. Preheat oven to 350* F (unless it's already set there!). Line a baking pan with parchment paper, or lightly grease it with canola oil.

2. In a large bowl, sift together flour, salt, baking soda, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg and wheat germ. Set aside.

3. In a medium bowl, whisk together pumpkin, molasses and oil. Then whisk in all but 2 Tbsp. of the evaporated cane juice.

4. Fold pumpkin mixture into dry ingredients, adding water toward the end to help bring dough together. It will be sticky!

5. In a small bowl, combine remaining 2 Tbsp. evaporated cane juice and a couple dashes of ground ginger.

6. Spoon out dough 1 Tbsp. at a time, roll into a ball, then toss in sugar/ginger mixture until lightly coated. Place on prepared pan, then continue with remaining dough. Before putting into oven, press down each cookie with the tines of a fork vertically, then horizontally, to create crisscross lines and to slightly flatten cookies to about 1/4-1/2 inches in thickness.

7. Bake for 10-12 minutes or until slightly firm.

candies, cake and catchup

Hello, my little bloglets! After a shamefully long hiatus since my last post--a combination of getting a job(!) and really, truly not doing much interesting cooking while spending weekends at friends' apartments, down the shore, etc.--I am back in the saddle.

First things first: Waaaay back in early May, I spent the night before a big race at the apartment of two very dear friends, and I wanted to bring some comestible to thank them for their hospitality. My usual go-to, the cheapest bottle of respectable-looking wine I can find, didn't seem to jive with our plans (carb-load, sleep well, rise early); nor did any baked good I could think of and had time to make. Something delicious, light, perhaps small-portioned was what I needed. I decided on two things: almond-stuffed dates rolled in shredded coconut, and chocolate-dipped dried apricots. (Fruit, no matter how adulterated and dessert-ified, always seems relatively virtuous.) Recipes don't seem to make sense for these guys, but here goes:

• Almond-stuffed dates rolled in shredded coconut: Use the best dates you can find. (I adore Woodstock Farms's medjools that come in the resealable clear plastic bag.) Remove stem end if necessary, then make a small slit lengthwise along the date with a paring knife (running in the same direction as the pit) and, using the point of the knife to help you, gently pop out the pit without otherwise cutting the flesh of the fruit. Slip one whole almond into the cavity left by the pit, and gently squeeze the two cut sides of the date back together. Roll date in a bowl with some shredded coconut in the bottom to coat. (Not a ton of coconut stuck to my dates, but they were still amazing!)
• Chocolate-dipped dried apricots: The name pretty much says it all, but here's what I did: I melted most of a bar of Scharffen Berger 70% cacao bittersweet chocolate in my DIY double boiler, then dunked apricots about halfway into the chocolate and laid them on a parchment-lined baking sheet. I ran out of apricots before I ran out of chocolate, at which point I began rooting through the cabinets searching for anything that would (could) be made better by its introduction into melted chocolate. I found quite a few: pretzel nuggets, dried blueberries, coffee beans. All these were dunked, then laid out on the parchment and popped into the fridge to let the chocolate set. The coffee beans actually imparted their flavor into the chocolate, which mean that the pretzels I dunked afterward had a hint of coffee--which wasn't awful, but also wasn't so good as the pretzels I dunked before the chocolate.

So that was the bulk of my kitchen activity for the month of May. I have kicked things off for June with a bold, daring move: a dessert that most people of my generation have never heard of, to surprise my dad for his birthday yesterday. That dessert is icebox cake, and it both appeals to me for its distinctive, almost science-experimenty preparation (put cookies and whipped cream into the fridge, and out comes a cake!) and horrifies my natural-whenever-possible approach to cooking. This is because the key ingredient is Nabisco Famous Chocolate Wafers, a near-paper-thin chocolate cookie that I keep likening to the outside of an Oreo that, because it was made back when my dad was a tot, undoubtedly contains scary, possibly man-made or -bastardized ingredients. I refused to look closely at the ingredients list which, from a glance, looked alarmingly long. There will probably come a day when my curiosity and healthful-mindedness will drive me to make these cookies from scratch, thanks to the help of my favorite food blogger, but for now, in the name of authenticity and making something for my dad that I know he'd like, I went for the storebought cookies.


Icebox cake and cupcakes
Adapted from: the back of the box of Nabisco Famous Chocolate Wafers, Smitten Kitchen and anectdotal accounts from my dad and Dorothy Noble, my godmother and aunt
Yield: at least one cake, maybe two, depending on how long you make them, or quite a few cupcakes if you go that route

3 c. heavy cream
3 Tbsp. sugar
1 Tbsp. vanilla extract
1 box Nabisco Famous Chocolate Wafers
Unsweetened cocoa powder, for dusting

1. Combine heavy cream, sugar and vanilla, and using an electric mixer, whip on high speed until cream forms soft peaks. (I think this took me only about 2 minutes.)

2. If making icebox cake: Spread about 1/2 Tbsp. whipped cream on the top of one cookie, top with another cookie, spread that cookie's top with 1/2 Tbsp. whipped cream, and continue the process, building a stack on a serving plate or baking pan. (The stack needs to be tall enough that it can support itself when you stand it on its side, but not so tall that inverting it onto its side is difficult and unwieldy.) When you have a nice little stack going, gently pick it up and set it, horizontally, on its side. Then top another cookie with whipped cream, and affix it to the end of the sideways stack, continuing until you have a long roll. Cover roll with remaining whipped cream. Note: I didn't actually do it this way. This is how you're supposed to do it, but in a fit of thriftyness (I don't want to waste any of these cookies!) and curiosity (I stupidly decided to use this wide loaf pan... I wonder how I can best take advantage of its space?), I made two rows of slightly overlapping cookies with whipped cream in between, to make a kind of double-wide roll.

3. If making icebox cupcakes: It's a good idea to start with big cupcake papers. Sort of open/flatten the papers a bit (the diameter of the cookies will probably exceed the diameter of the bottom of the papers), and set out several on a cookie sheet. Spread about 1/2 Tbsp. whipped cream on the top of one cookie, top with another cookie, spread that cookie's top with 1/2 Tbsp. whipped cream, and continue the process, building a stack of about 3-5 cookies, depending on how big you want them. Plop each little stack into a cupcake paper, then move on to the next. The photo above shows the three junior cupcakes I made with the whipped cream and cookies remaining after I'd filled my big loaf pan.

4. Dust (cup)cake(s) with cocoa powder, cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight. Or, as my aunt says, "as long as it takes for the cookies to soften," which is the whole point--the crisp cookies gain moisture from the whipped cream (and probably their overnight stay in the chill chest) and achieve a cakelike consistency. It tastes like ice cream sandwiches. It is AWESOME. Even if, like me, you really don't know what you're doing, it ends up being really tasty and retro-feeling.


Of course, when my pops ate his slice, he said, "It's good." Momentary pause for consideration, then: "But it's not exactly how my mother made it. I think she actually put it in the freezer for a while." None of my recipes had told me to do so, but I'll give you one guess of where the leftovers are going to hang out.

Oh, PS: At some point in the last month, I made a strawberry smoothie. I don't know how I made it, and I hadn't even remember that I made it, until I found the photo on my camera. I have a feeling that yogurt, maybe some milk and a little wheat germ were also invited to the party, but as for quantities or specifics, your guess is as good as mine.

jamaica roundup

Hello, dear reader(s)! I trust that all 1.5 of you have noticed my lack of posting recently. I haven't cooked much in the last week because I was in Jamaica for five days. The trip was relaxing, the Port Antonio area completely gorgeous, the sunshine omnipresent. Perhaps best of all, there were plenty of new foods to try!

A trip to Portland (the parish where Port Antonio is located) wouldn't be complete without sampling jerk, the spicy and flavorful preparation of chicken, pork and other meats that hails from this parish. Although I've eaten jerk-seasoned foods in the states, they don't come close to the real deal. In Jamaica, the meats are seasoned with allspice (aka pimento) and Scotch bonnet peppers, then placed on pimento wood covering a fire and essentially grilled. We sampled jerk at this roadside stand in Boston Bay.


Our first breakfast on the island was a traditional Jamaican dish called ackee and saltfish. The "meat" of the ackee fruit grows inside a pink exterior that opens like a flower and yields three pieces of the fruit, each attached to a large, shiny brown seed that looks like a chocolate-covered cherry. Salt cod is the fish in this dish, which comes served with fried dumplings sometimes called Johnny cakes (second from left) and a fried cassava cake (right). Ours also came with fried plantains (left).


While rafting one afternoon, we stopped at a riverside spot where lunch is served daily. On my plate, you'll see (clockwise from top) rice and peas, another traditional Jamaican dish of red beans, rice and coconut milk; another Johnny cake; breadfruit, which I found delightfully soft, comfortingly bland, but still quite satisfying; cooked bok choy; curry goat (at center); and a salad of lettuce, cabbage, carrots and peppers.

For our dessert at the same spot, we were served sweet-potato pudding (left), which had the consistency of a very dense pumpkin pie filling, and chewy, uber-gingery cookies called coconut drops. In the cup? The best lemonade e-ver! Belinda, the cook, told us she had added lime juice to the mixture.

On the second night, we dined at a casual restaurant where the first food we were served was an otaheiti or Jamaican apple. It was quite petite (you see I photographed it next to my Red Stripe for a sense of scale), pear shaped, with flesh that reminded me of a cross between pears, plums and apples. The flavor was remarkably floral, almost like the scent of roses. Our escort from the tourist board told us this was eaten before the meal to aid in digestion.

One of my favorite food experiences on the trip happened not at a restaurant, but at a small roadside produce stand. After seeing countless signs advertising "ice cold jelly" during our two-hour drive from the airport in Kingston to our hotel in Port Antonio, we asked our escort what the signs were all about. Rather than tell us, he had the driver stop at the next sign for the stuff and told us to all get out so we could try it. The jelly turns out to be the inside of the cavity of a young, green coconut. (The hairy brown things we think of as coconuts are the mature version, smaller than their young counterparts.) In the picture below, the innermost, whitest layer is the jelly.
The owner of the roadside stand, who identified himself to us as Watches, hacked off the tops of a few green coconuts with his machete, then passed a handful of straws to us. After we sipped the delicious coconut water out of the center, Watches cut open the coconuts and demonstrated how to use one half to scoop out the jelly from the other half in ribbony sheets. Its flavor was mild, and the consistency reminded me of scallop sashimi.

Our tour guide then borrowed Watches's machete and cut open a mature coconut to let us sample the flesh. It was quite firm and required extensive chewing, but I was surprised by how much I liked it. The flavor was much less concentrated or coconut-y than what we find here in the states, perhaps because by the time coconuts reach our shelves (or in the dried, shredded or flaked form) the water content is so much less and, therefore, the coconut flavor more intense.

Not pictured, but also consumed: okra, dolphin, wahoo, Ting (a lightly sweet grapefruit soda), and insanely fresh ginger beer. All in all, lots of new flavors and foods!

My recent layoff has brought changes to my life, including an exaggerated, newly heightened sense of frugality. Though I have been cheap probably since the womb, I now feel an overwhelming consciousness of the cost of everything, the contents of my wallet, the balance of my checking account. I have saved every grocery receipt from the last month with the intention that I will map out my spending in some hypertechnical way à la Microsoft Excel and look for ways that I can cut more corners than ever before.

In honor of the winter holidays, this stinginess took the form of home-baked gifts for the vast majority of my friends and family: lemon anise biscotti, peppermint chocolate cookies covered in white chocolate and dusted with crushed candy canes, candied orange peels, and two types of chocolate bark. Amid the festive flurry of kitchen activity, I even found time and energy—and clean utensils—to bake a loaf of pumpkin bread for myself. But, as is always the case when I make pumpkin bread, the standard sized can of pumpkin leaves me with an extra half-cup or so leftover. I used some of it earlier in the week, adding it to a pot of oatmeal about a minute before the oats were fully cooked. This reminded me of my favorite cookie e-ver (oatmeal chocolate chip), which in turn reminded me of how unexpectedly delicious the combination of chocolate and pumpkin can be.

I used a Mollie Katzen recipe as a guideline, with the exceptions noted below. Her preparation times never hold true for me; I always take longer than she does. And while she says this recipe yields four dozen cookies, I used a 2-teaspoon cookie scoop and ended up with well over 60.


Pumpkin Chocolate-Chip Oatmeal Cookies
Adapted from Still Life With Menu Cookbook (Ten Speed, 1994) by Mollie Katzen

Preparation time (for me): 35 minutes to prepare, 12 to 15 to bake
Yield: 4-6 dozen cookies, depending on size

½-¾ c. canned pumpkin, drained of excess water
¾ c. packed brown sugar (I had only about ½ c., so I threw in ¼ c. maple syrup also)
½ c. unsweetened applesauce (if you want it to be vegan) or 1 egg
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1 ¼ c. flour
1 tsp. baking soda
½ tsp. salt
3 ½ c. rolled oats [A tip from Mollie: If you are using thick-cut rolled oats (the kind that is sold in bulk at natural foods stores), grind the oats slightly in a blender or food processor, using a few quick spurts. If you are using a more refined product, such as Quaker Oats, this step is unnecessary.]
5 to 6 Tbsp. water
1 tsp. cinnamon
1 c. whole chocolate chips (dairyless, if you're going the vegan route)

1. Preheat oven to 350° F. Lightly grease a cookie sheet, or line with parchment paper.
2. In a large bowl, cream together pumpkin and sweetener with an electric mixer at high speed.
3. Beat in applesauce or egg; stir in vanilla extract.
4. In a second bowl, sift together flour, baking soda and salt.
5. Stir flour mixture into pumpkin mixture, and add all remaining ingredients. Mix until everything is well combined.
6. Drop by rounded teaspoons onto cookie sheet, and flatten each cookie slightly with the back of the spoon.
7. Bake 12 to 15 minutes. Remove from sheet while still hot, and cool on a rack. (If using parchment, transfer paper with cookies to rack and allow to cool.)

Optional:
Eat one as soon as you can handle it! They're awesome right out of the oven.