Once in a while you come across the type of recipe that you never would have thought of before. That's how I feel about this recipe for Brandied Grapes, from one of my favorite food blogs, Noshtalgia.
I'm not a big fan of brandy as a drink, but the marinating of grapes overnight in brandy (and also cinnamon and nutmeg) certainly intrigues me. Oh, and did I mention you serve it with sour cream on the side? I can't even begin to image what this tastes like. Full recipe after the jump.
My parents had Thanksgiving dinner with some old friends this year and after the meal was over, my mom called me to rave about the Brussels Sprouts that Lucy, the friends' daughter, had made. Lucy has two young sons and had made these sprouts in the hopes that her boys would eat them. She put a lot of effort into them, removing each leaf from every small sprout head in order to get a kid-friendly consistency. When she gave my mom the recipe, she stressed that one does not have to go to such labor-intensive lengths in order to make this dish.
The way we did it last night was to chop 2 pounds of sprouts into eighths (quarter them and then halve the quarters), which took some time but was worth it in terms of cooking speed. In a large skillet, I sauteed four thinly sliced leeks (they were fairly small leeks, total yield was about 1 1/2 cups) and two chopped shallots in a couple teaspoons of olive oil. Then the chopped sprouts went in, along with a sprig's worth of minced rosemary. When the started to get a little dry, I added about half a cup of chicken stock (there happened to be some around, otherwise I would have used water). Cover until soft. At the very end, add 1/4 teaspoon of freshly grated nutmeg and 1/2 a cup of cream or half and half. Lastly add salt and pepper to taste.
They were so good and while they felt a little decadent, they weren't overwhelmingly rich. I think these are going to end up on the table come Christmas dinner.
My family is intensely passionate about quality maple syrup. There's none of that fake, cloyingly sweet pancake syrup in our houses. Only dark, grade B, deeply flavored maple. It's best bought in bulk from a local health food store, although Trader Joe's brand does in a pinch. I love using it to sweeten oatmeal and also have an oatmeal cookie recipe that incorporates it. On those occasions when my sweet tooth beckons and there isn't a bit of chocolate in the house, a small spoonful of maple syrup sates the sugar need nicely.
Knowing a little about this maple obsession of mine will help you understand why I am now totally fixated on the recipe Deb posted on Smitten Kitchen yesterday. She baked up a Nutmeg-Maple Cream Pie (and let's not get me started on my love of freshly ground nutmeg. I use it in nearly everything) that she dug out of the New York Times archive. She chose to bake it in a tart pan instead of a pie pan, which makes it look elegant as well as delicious. This is one that's going in the Must Make file for the very near future.
Mmmm...apples. They remind me so much of fall (even though they're available year-round). It hasn't been very fall-like this week in my neck of the woods - it was almost 90 yesterday! - but any recipe that gets me in the mind-set for autumn is something I have to post about.
It's from the Cooking For 2 blog and it's a recipe for Fried Apples. Pretty easy, actually. I'm not really a fan of hot apple pie (I prefer ice cold apple pie), but I'm willing to give this a shot. Full recipe after the jump.
I use my microplane to zest, grind and grate nearly every day (it would appear that I cook a lot). I started out with the basic one that came with no handle, just a flat strip of razer sharp teeth that take a nutmeg and turn it into aromatic pile of shavings. Then I moved up to the flexible set which I love because you can swap out different levels of grater blades quickly and easily (if you're tempted by that prospect, you need to act fast as this set has been discontinued).
Now there's a new microplane that I've got my eye on, and it's a cutie. Designed for spices, it catches the shavings in its little case, which makes it deadly easy to accurately measure your amounts (instead of eyeballing it or trying to scrape it off the cutting board and into a measuring spoon). Best of all is that if you buy it from the Spice House, they'll throw in a whole nutmeg, cinnamon stick, ginger and turmeric root. Go forth and grate!
Drambuie Liqueur, also known as "Prince Charles Edwards Liqueur" is 40%abv / 80 proof and was first made on the Isle of Skye . Now it is made In Edinburgh, Scotland and in other areas. In the mid to strong range in liqueurs, with a medium body, this is a beautiful, rich, golden colored liqueur that both satisfies upon first glance, and draws you in for a taste. Because it has a nice alcohol level the aroma starts out a bit warm, with the smooth smell of Highlands Scotch that is buoyed up with touches of honey, nutmeg, and a complex and intriguing blend of other spices, possibly including mint, followed up with the barest hint of tangy citrus deep in your nose. Even as a child I have always enjoyed the flavors of honey and nutmeg, as well as the mild but penetrating aroma of saffron.
As I got older I fell in love with fine single malt Scotch whisky. I think this must be why I count Drambuie as my favorite liqueur. The taste of mellow and sweet whisky is first noticed on your tongue, and then you find the sweetness rounding out to a floral honey, which is complexly rounded out with a hint of nutmeg, saffron, and a slew of other aromatic, but subdued spices. The overall sensation is of warm, spicy, liquid gold that first shimmers on the tongue, then evolves to a brown velvet nectar that seeps down your throat and into your whole head, filling it with soft warmth.
Actually, the whole name of this dessert from HGTV is Pumpkin-Ginger Cake with Cinnamon-Bourbon Caramel Glaze. While you might want to leave out the Bourbon part (1/4 cup) for little Jimmy and little Kathy, the cake itself sounds great.
Gratin dauphinois is, perhaps, the most satisfying side dish I know how to make. I first saw it in the
August/September 2003 issue of Saveur. It caught my eye, as there were only six
ingredients and the recipe was quite short. The first time I made it, I was still in college and one of my dorm-mates
declared that we should make it daily just to have the smell of nutmeg and cream wafting through the room.