Sunday brunch for two

In my excitement to get cracking on all those newly picked apples, I invited J over for Sunday brunch, most cleverly killing two birds with one stone in the process, the birds being catching up with a mate and using up some apples. While I considered making it an exclusively sweet brunch menu consisting of nothing but a motherload of apple crisp, I ended up throwing together a frittata at the last moment as well – a good move, as I discovered J is fond of eggs. I ran into a slight problem over what to put in the frittata, as I found little more than sweet potatoes, yogurt, gochujang, shredded parmesan, and prepared spicy korean fish cakes (from H Mart, which might be my new favorite place on this sweet earth) in the fridge. I briefly contemplated putting sweet potatoes and then the fish cakes in (not together!), but decided to keep it simple, making a parmesan frittata with some dried herbs, finished with freshly ground black pepper (recipe at the end).

Bombed baguettes are still the bomb

This morning I attempted to make baguettes for the first time (having let some starter proof overnight).  I was disappointed with the rather arduous process and partly blame the recipe, hulled from my newly acquired 100 Great Breads by Paul Hollywood.  Specifically, I fault the recipe for its opaque reference to the amount of water needed for the dough.  The list of ingredients merely notes “warm water to mix,” without so much as a ballpark estimate.  The directions do not help much, stating to add “enough water to make a thick batter” and later, “enough water to make a soft, pliable dough.” True, the amount of liquid needed varies in accordance with the characteristics of different flours, and it is imperative the recipe user have some wiggle room for improvisation, but reading only “enough,” without the slightest whiff of a number to work with, I felt more neglected than liberated.  Clearly, my baking neophytism also figured into the equation, as the recipe assumed a working knowledge that I did not confidently possess.  The incorporation of butter into the dough additionally caught me off guard.  It imparted a richness and creaminess to the dough that, while not undesirable, made for a bread that did not go hand in hand with my notion of a baguette.

That said, I am thoroughly enjoying the fruits of my labor.  It really is difficult to find much fault with freshly baked bread, especially when it is promptly rubbed with garlic and topped with tomatoes, basil, and olive oil, a combination lauded by personal acquaintances and culinary connoisseurs alike.  Even more difficult when some more of that lovely is cubed, crisped up with olive oil, garlic, and parsley, and transformed into croutons that will have you kicking and screaming the next time someone offers you those artificially flavored, concrete sodium bombs from the supermarket.  I normally refrain from croutons on my salad, preferring carb intake in heartier forms, but tonight I uncovered (perhaps rediscovered) a fondness for crunchy, garlicky, explosively flavorful bread nuggets.  Seriously, they were as easy to inhale as my favorite bag of potato chips, which is what I selfishly proceeded to do, sparing only the runts to perch on the dinner salad.  But that is what tomorrows are for.  Making more croutons in between mind-numbing rounds of standardized test prep.

Winners and losers

In life, there are winners and there are losers.  It is just one of those harsh but categorical realities that only reinforces itself with time, and is so beyond reproof it holds true even in the realm of cookies.  See, for example:

winners:

and losers (with winners pointing and laughing in the background):

Actually, the real loser here was the recipe, which needs major tweaking.  I was craving thin, crisp, and crunchy oatmeal cookies, which was exactly what this recipe promised.  Instead, I got half a batch of crumbly, chewy oatmeal clusters and what is essentially granola.  Both having a time and place but neither being what I signed up for, I will return to the drawing board, and quickly, as this botched effort has only intensified my original craving.

Recipe: Blueberry Drop Scones

When it comes to baking, I’m a sucker for simplicity: the sight of a minimalist recipe with few ingredients and round proportions is just as enticing as the aroma of scones in the oven.  For the reason of simplicity alone, I’ve bookmarked a half-dozen scone recipes, such as this cream scone recipe by the Amateur Gourmet.  While these blueberry scones are not on that list, I had been meaning to adapt a King Arthur recipe for awhile, and the original recipe was actually less fussy than I thought it would be.  These scones may not withstand comparison to a rebirth of their King Arthur predecessors — it’s likely I’ll never know — but no matter, as they are light, tender, and moist, such that each bite melts lushly into oblivion.  To my delight, the plump, ripe blueberries generously yielded themselves in runny explosions to the greater cause: I knew they had it in them, those self-sacrificing bundles of joy.  But perhaps dried fruit (blueberries or other) would yield better results, scones with more integrity.  I liked these best toasted with coffee and a good magazine.  A friend recently recounted to me her memorable virgin encounter with blueberry granola pancakes, and a recipe for scones studded with almond granola just caught my eye, so I might have to try adding some next time.  A friendly reminder to be generous with your sprinklings of sugar: a sweet crunchy surface makes all the difference.