Drinkable pudding

We've been home a lot lately. We were snowed in early in the week, and roads cleared just in time for the schools' four-day President's Day weekend break. Plus, it's cold. For someone who considers herself a New Englander, I don't do cold well.

On the bright side, I do hot chocolate well. Usually from a mix. Sometimes I dress it up with leftover candy canes, a dash of cinnamon or some vanilla bean. I've got some intriguing recipes with orange peel. But what I usually long for is the thick sipping chocolate that crops up all the time in Hercule Poirot mysteries, but that doesn't seem to exist on this side of the pond.

Imagine my delight, therefore, when I was organizing recipes last week and came across a printout for something called "Castillian Hot Chocolate" and described as having the consistency of "pudding that didn't quite set." The big difference in this recipe was everyone's favorite thickening agent, cornstarch. Maybe this was what I was looking for.

So, on a snowy, cold day, while Will was out shoveling the driveway for the second time already, I set to work on the superthick cocoa recipe.

The ingredients in this recipe weren't just measured by weight instead of volume, they were in grams and milliliters. (U.S. Customary conversions below.) Fortunately, my kitchen scale switches to and from metric, but unfortunately, it looked like it was weighing in kilograms. No sooner did I get my son Keith to double-check my conversions than I discovered that the scale was, in fact, working in grams. First I weighed out some unsweetened cocoa powder (Dutch cocoa would have been ideal, but I ran out) and sugar, then threw them in a saucepan.

Next, I measured some cornstarch into the bowl I used for weighing. It still had a little trace of cocoa powder in it, so when I added in some water to dissolve the cornstarch, it took on a light brown color but I knew it wasn't going to make any difference in the long run.


Once the cornstarch (and trace of cocoa) was dissolved, I poured it into the saucepan with the cocoa and sugar and stirred it into a nice sludgy paste.

Then I gradually whisked in some milk (1 percent, for what it's worth) and stirred frequently while I waited for it to come to a simmer. And waited. And waited. And waited. For a looooong 10 minutes. Or maybe it was 15?

Eventually, the cocoa started rolling in that way that, say, pudding does when you cook it on the stove. All of a sudden it got appreciably glossy and thickened up so much I needed to use a soup ladle to pour it into mugs. Then I topped it with whipped cream, and voila!

THE VERDICT: Definitely a thick sipping chocolate, not unlike a pudding that hasn't quite set. Will said, "You know in 'The Polar Express' where they drink the thick, rich hot chocolate like melted chocolate bars? I imagine it tastes like this." Keith and Alex didn't say much more than "Mmm, this is good," but Alex walked around for quite a bit with chocolate smudges around his mouth. A keeper.

Castilian Hot Chocolate
converted from a recipe by Tovah Hollander

6 Tbsp. unsweetened cocoa powder

1 c. sugar
3 Tbsp. cornstarch
3 fl oz. water
4 c. milk
Whipped cream (optional)

Mix cocoa and sugar in a small saucepan, set aside. In small bowl, combine cornstarch and water until cornstarch dissolves. Pour cornstarch liquid into cocoa mixture, stir into a paste. Heat over medium heat, gradually whisking in milk. Continue stirring frequently while cocoa comes to a simmer. Simmer for 10 minutes or so until cocoa thickens and becomes glossy. Pour into mugs and top with whipped cream. Serves 4.

O Canada

It's an emerging tradition in our household that we celebrate the start of the Olympics with food from the host country. This officially started in 2008, with sesame noodles to kick off the Beijing Olympics. I don't remember doing anything specific for Torino in 2006, but then again, we eat a lot of pizza and pasta so it's possible.

So here it is, 2010, the Winter Games are in Vancouver, and I have no idea what would be considered Canadian food. The problem, I think, is that like the United States, Canada is a melting pot of cultures and it is as hard to identify a quintessentially Canadian dish as it is to name one that is strictly American. To make it more difficult, I wanted something from the western provinces to keep as close to the Vancouver theme as possible. This ruled out the only dishes I could think of -- tourtiere and maple syrup pie -- because they were from Quebec and too far east.

After trawling the Internet, I came to a few conclusions: our entree might have to rely on indigenous ingredients (something like bison burgers); fiddlehead ferns are probably unattainable in the Mid-Atlantic states; and if I wanted a truly Canadian dish, I needed to focus on desserts. Desserts like Nanaimo bars, a three-layer no-bake treat that not only originated in British Columbia, but made an Ontarian friend's mouth water when I mentioned I was thinking of making them. Maybe this was a quintessentially Canadian dish.



I started out crushing some graham crackers -- I needed 10 to get the required 1 1/4 c. -- and then chopping the almonds in the food processor. Chopping nuts is always tricky, because if I go too fast I end up with nut paste, but careful pulsing yielded excellent results this time.

I also added a cup of shredded coconut and set it aside.






Then I melted a stick of butter, 1/4 c. sugar, and 5 Tbsp. of cocoa powder in my makeshift double boiler. I don't own a real double boiler, so I usually stack a bowl or a small saucepan on top of another small saucepan and it does the trick. Eventually, I'll get a real one, but this works pretty well.

Next, I needed to combine the melted chocolate with a beaten egg. I followed the advice of The Eclectic Cook, who suggested adding the chocolate to the egg instead of the other way around to avoid curdling. I was still a little worried about whether the egg would be heated enough, so I added a little melted chocolate to warm the egg and then returned it to the makeshift double boiler. This was a mistake: It didn't curdle so much as it mysteriously separated, and after some cursing I scrapped it and started again. This time, I added all the mixture to the egg and used a thermometer to check it was at a safe temperature to proceed. It did make a nice custardy chocolate mix (which also tasted excellent).


Said custardy chocolate mix was then combined with the graham crackers crumbs, finely chopped almonds and coconut. This smelled great, kind of like Girl Scout Samoas.

It also turned into a nice, thick dough, which pressed so easily into an 8 x 8 baking dish. So easily, in fact, that there wasn't any left over to sample.

On to the second layer. I was at first baffled: I had it in my head that this was a custard-like layer, probably because one of the ingredients is 2 Tbsp. of vanilla custard powder (or pudding mix, in the States). But I wasn't thinking straight. Because what do you get from a stick of butter, roughly 3 Tbsp. cream, pudding mix and 2 c. icing (confectioner's) sugar? Holy buttercream, Batman!

I'm not crazy about frostings with lots of confectioner's sugar, so I had some doubts as I spread the buttercream across the base. Keith and Alex, however, were busy licking the frosting off the beaters and assuring me that it was very good.

The last step was to melt 4 oz. of semisweet chocolate with 2 Tbsp. of butter and pour that on top of the buttercream layer, then throw the whole thing in the fridge to chill. Some recipes said for an hour, others said for several. I went with several.

THE VERDICT: An excellent, tasty combination of flavors. I couldn't taste the confectioner's sugar at all. The bottom layer may have smelled like Samoas, but it tasted even better. Four thumbs up. And, when the kids weren't looking this morning, I snuck another one for breakfast. A gold medal winner, indeed.

Having coffee cake and eating it, too

Lately, I've had a craving for coffee cake. I blame this mostly on Keith, who tends to choose coffee cake as a treat at the shop where I regularly buy coffee beans. He usually lets me have a bite, and it's good.

But a bite just isn't enough. Nor is it any good on a quiet morning at home, when there's just enough snow on the ground to delay school and you really want baked goods with your cup of coffee. It was time to pick out a new recipe.

Of course, by the time I got it baked, I would be long done with my morning java, but there was always the afternoon cup. And the next day. And, maybe, the day after that.

I decided to test a toffee bar coffee cake out of the December 1999 Bon Appetit, mainly because it looked straightforward and I was intrigued by the toffee topping. I also had all the ingredients at home, except the toffee and buttermilk, which I picked up after dropping the kids off at school.

Step one was mixing butter, flour, dark brown sugar, regular sugar and salt together until it resembled coarse meal. Then, I scooped out 1/2 cup to reserve for the topping.










 After setting aside the topping mixture, I added some baking soda to the batter mix. I didn't want to add in the liquid ingredients until just before pouring the batter into the cake pan (9 x 13 x 2 Pyrex), because I didn't want the buttermilk and baking soda to react too quickly and keep the cake from rising in the oven.

So I finished up the topping mixture by adding in some broken up pecan halves and some Heath bar bits. The actual recipe calls for breaking up toffee bars, but it was easier to buy the brickle bits the grocery store stocks next to chocolate chips.

I went back to the batter bowl and beat in the egg, vanilla and buttermilk. Then I quickly poured it into the baking dish ...

... and sprinkled toffee topping all over it. Then I baked at 350 degrees for 35 minutes.

On the surface, the final version did not look appreciably different from the pre-baked version until you cut into it. Then, it looked like cake.

THE VERDICT: This cake has a wonderful texture. If I could get that texture in a chocolate layer cake, I'd be thrilled. It was perfectly moist and spongy. At first, I wasn't too crazy about the flavor: I didn't get as much of a sense of the pecans or toffee as I hoped, and was surprised when Will raved about it. But the flavor improved immensely overnight and tasted better the next morning. It was an excellent complement to a morning cup of coffee. Keith ate several pieces, and Alex snuck himself a piece at snack time. A definite keeper.

Mmmm.... minty cookies

It happens to be that excellent time of year known as Girl Scout Cookie Time. Last week I ran into a cookie stand manned by a couple of Brownies I know, and well, a sucker for Thin Mints and her money are soon parted.

I love chocolate. I love mint. I love chocolate mint, and Thin Mints, well... I have been known to eat an entire box of Thin Mints in one sitting, and I think that was the fate I subconsciously planned for the box I bought last week. Alas for me, Alex discovered the box and it turns out he is also a sucker for Thin Mints. Sigh.


That was last week. Today's dilemma: I really wanted to bake something, but was feeling just enough under the weather that it had to be simple, not too hands-on, with just a few ingredients. Maybe a bar cookie, I thought, flipping through one of my binders. Maybe brownies. Maybe... hello! Chocolate mint cookies!

Not just any chocolate mint cookies.... these were billed as homemade Thin Mints. And, fancy that, we just happened to have all the ingredients in the house. And the recipe was pretty straightforward, so it was a deal.

I started by beating some vanilla and peppermint extracts into softened butter. Evidently when I first saved this recipe, I read through some online reviews that strongly recommended increasing the amount of extract given, so I went ahead and used 1 1/2 tsp. of each. Whoa, overwhelming peppermint scent. Then I creamed it with some sugar.

 

Then I beat in an egg, and added some flour, Dutch-processed cocoa and a little salt and beat until just blended. Mmmm... tasty dough.

 

 

I took the dough out, rolled it into logs and refrigerated it for four hours. While Will put the finishing touches on dinner, I sliced the dough into roughly 1/4-inch thick rounds -- well, OK, they were a little flat on one edge -- and put them on parchment-lined cookie sheets. These baked at 350 degrees for just over 12 minutes.

 

They came out looking OK, but one of them er, just happened to break a little bit while I was testing for doneness, so Will and I had to taste it. Mmmm. Pretty good, and a little soft, coming straight from the oven. 

The recipe called for cooling the cookies and then drizzling them with melted chocolate. But truthfully, the cookies were pretty darn good without the chocolate. In the end, I decided to mix things up. Some I left alone. 

Some, I haphazardly drizzled with plain melted chocolate.

And some, I smothered with mint chocolate.

THE VERDICT: Mmmm... minty cookies. They're good. They crisp up pretty quickly as they cool. They're rich enough to require a glass of milk with them. Chocolate coating is excellent, but not necessary. I think, next time I make them, that semisweet chocolate might be better than bittersweet for the topping. A definite keeper.