Week Five: The Ingredient

I'm steering away from vegetables. Sure, the USDA just came out with new dietary suggestions (again?) that say, surprise surprise, we need to eat more vegetables and less processed food but it's not like I'm saying adios to vegetables all together, just as my current theme of ingredients-yet-to-be-cooked-with.

That prologue aside, I'm happy to pay homage this week to Oregon's state nut (Yes, we have one and yes, we're the only state to claim an official state nut -- not even Hawaii, with its obsession with the Macadamia nut, touts an official state nut): The hazelnut.

Though its also called a cobnut and a hazelnut, the two aliases boast different shapes -- the cobnut rounder; the filbert longer. In our great state of Oregon, we're more used to the filberts. Of French origin, the term filbert refers to both the tree and the nut (Though great debates in the nut world ensue that maybe...just maybe...that's not true). Like many of the great things in Oregon, the French brought the filbert here. In 1981 however (Hundreds of years after the filbert's introduction, of course), the Oregon Filbert Commission (Bet you didn't think that'd exist, eh?) conformed to the rest of the national marketing scheme and renamed the filbert to the hazelnut we now hold near and dear to our hearts.

And why wouldn't we love the hazelnut? Not only is it tasty -- delicious in both desserts and coffee (Though if we're talking Torani hazelnut-flavored syrup, I'll pass, acknowledging my nose stuck snobbily up in the air) -- but it is also ridiculously good for you. Rich in protein and unsaturated fat, the hazelnut is also high in vitamins B1 and B6. With such health benefits, it's no wonder (GAH! "No wonder" = a total AV scripting phrase. Oh well) the Chinese, in 2838 BC, believed the filbert took its place among the five sacred nourishments that God bestowed upon human beings (God, of course, being a term of relativity). What's more, the Greek physician Dioscorodes said of the hazelnut:

"It cures chronic coughing if pounded filbert is eaten with honey. Cooked filbert with black pepper cures the cold. And ointment of mashed burnt filbert shells and suet smeared on a head reverts baldness."

I'm neither bald nor experiencing a cough right now but still, I say, bring on the filbert.

Bacon Caramel: Boozy Dessert Style

Boy oh boy.

While I may have been more lax and lazy last week with cooking, I think I more than made up for it over the weekend with baking.

The weekend, for those of you who didn't know, Sunday was National Pie Day which coupled oh-so-nicely with Baker and Spice bakery's sixth anniversary (And I apologize for not actually informing everyone before hand; in retrospect, telling you after the fact seems a bit cruel considering you've got to wait 364 more days until the next National Pie Day). They held a pie baking contest which, after I casually dropped that factoid during trivia, Jason immediately averred that I should enter it.

Which I so totally did.

Apple Pie with Oat Streusel and
Bourbon Bacon Caramel Drizzle

I recreated Thanksgiving's apple pie: Apple Pie with Oat Streusel (Thanks Bon Appetit) but topped it off with lavish drizzle of bourbon bacon caramel.

The pie looked...oh, fantastic. And smelled like comfort food heaven, sweet with cinnamon sugar warmth that played harmoniously with the melody of apples which...oh baby, oh baby mingled with the smoky kick of the bourbon and bacon grease. Poor Jason. (Well I say 'poor' but don't really mean it -- let's remember that entering the pie contest WAS HIS idea after all)  I've never seen a grown man so unbelievably distraught while maintaining such iron-willed resistance than Jason, holding the still-warm, unbelievably aromatic apple pie for the entire 18 minute drive up to Hillsdale.

Without eating it.

Sure, his nose was never less than half an inch away from its crumbly, caramely top and, if I recall correctly, he verbalized no fewer than five scenarios that inadvertently put that pie into his mouth, without requiring him to take blame.

Unfortunately, my little pie didn't win. However, I do get to pick up a Thanks-for-playing $10 gift card to Sweet Wares (Which I think I'm going to drop on a pastry cutter I keep always wishing I had). And, while I didn't have crust to make a second pie, I did make a crumble-crust, using flour, sugar, brown sugar, oats, cinnamon and...of course, bacon grease in lieu of butter, for a crumbly, crispy apple pie that really, regardless of what the professionals think, is a winner in my book.

Butter. Nice, fatty cold creamy butter.

And for your viewing pleasure: I also made (For my friend Meghann who FREAKISHLY, at least in my eyes, doesn't like pork) a dark chocolate caramel, SANS bacon grease, which apparently made one the best caramel latte/mochas ever.

Yes Megs, it's officially in the mail and on its way to you.

Dark Chocolate Caramel Sauce

Week Three: The Story

So it turns out...when I have a crazy week of work, coupled with the insane ticket price of crowns these days, my culinary concoctions tend to get pushed to the proverbial, though in no way ironic, back burner.

Cooking with some a new ingredient was, I'll admit, a bit of a wash this week. While I've never actually COOKED with radishes before (Suuuuure I'll have them in salad or as crudites but baking or cooking with them? Naaaah), I have eaten them at least a couple of handful of times in my life, making me feel as though I've only kinda sorta maybe a teeny tiny itty bitty cheated with the whole non-resolution deal.

It was a hell of a week last week -- which I'm so using as an excuse -- so sue me. Although don't really; you won't get much. Really, just hold me accountable enough to push me to make something really awesome with wicked strange and new ingredients this next month. Deal? Deal.

Eh, anyway. Where was I?

Right. Baked radishes. The first attempt turned out...candied, for sure, but not quite as baked as I would have liked. Sliced, cleaned and doused in a hearty coating of cinnamon-sugary goodness, the radish slices ended up caramelizing and hardening on the outside (Duh) but staying soft on the inside. While the flavor of the fresh root and sweet sugar created this heavenly aromatic earthy candy flavor, the texture of the hardened sugar didn't fly too well against the gooey inside. It's like one of those candies that has a great flavor but texture that kind of makes you wonder, by the time you swallowed it, why you let your tongue and mouth suffer that awkward texture metamorphosis.

Round two of radishes just happened (Pictures to be added soon). THIS time around I went without the sugary goodness (I had a weekend of baked good extravaganza-ness), instead baking the radishes THEN sifting them a shake of garlic salt, for a crunchy, tangy, earthy chip that's going to be hard pressed to see its way to Tuesday.

Culinary Concoctions Week Three: Candied Radish Chips with Vanilla Ice Cream and (You guessed it) Bacon Caramel

I knooooooooow. It's WEDNESDAY and I haven't blogged all freaking week.

It's killing me (Or doing much worse things to me according to my work pal Johnathon -- yeah, you know what I'm talking about mate).

So finally, while the boy cooks up an amazing dinner for me, I'm sitting and blogging about the recipe I'm finally getting around to making.

While they're not black radishes, I am using the lovely red and purple bunches I got from the farmer's market nearly two weeks ago to make a dessert.

Or, to hopefully make a dessert. I know you can bake radishes but can you make them candied and sweet?

Only the following story (ie; tomorrow or Friday's blog) will tell. For now, the recipe.

Candied Radish Chips (With Vanilla [soy] Ice Cream and Bacony Caramel)


Ingredients
2 bunches of red, purple or black radishes
3 TBSP cinnamon
1/2 cup sugar
Pinch of nutmeg
Pinch or two of cocoa powder

Directions
Mix dry ingredients together. Wash and pat dry radishes. Remove stalk and root ends. Using a mandolin, thinly and evenly slice radishes. Coat with sugar mixture. Bake at 375 degrees for 10 minutes on foiled or parchment-covered cookie sheet. Flip, bake for another 5 to 10 minutes, or until crispy.

Serve warm, like mini biscotti or wafer cookies, with vanilla ice cream and warmed bacon caramel.

PS If it doesn't work or I alter it, I'll of course, let you all know. Wish me luck!