Bakin-n-Bacon

Cornbread Conundrum

I am a displaced Yankee, living just below the Mason-Dixon line in West Virginia. I'm not really even a Yankee - I'm from North Dakota, so that qualifies me as a ....hick?.....goober?....bumpkin? Whatever the terminology, I am at odds with Southern cornbread lovers like my husband. I like my cornbread sweet and moist, edging very close to a corn pudding if I have my way. Southerners like their tea sweet, but their grits and cornbread better not have any damn sugar in them, honey. A few evenings ago I made a big ol' pot of pinto beans (the state food in West Virginia) with the leftover ham bone from Thanksgiving. You can serve pintos with cornbread or fried 'taters (or risk being charged with heresy), and I chose the former. I heated up the ancient cast iron pan given to me by a dear, dear friend in a very hot oven with a few tablespoons of rendered bacon grease. (I had to find a way to use bacon - it had been almost a day since I last used it!) I used a Southern recipe (stoneground corn, buttermilk, eggs, baking powder, salt) but snuck in two teaspoons of sugar. I'll be hung and shot if I'm discovered so let's keep it our little secret. My husband and his friend loved it but I was all 'eh.' I just can't get into the dryish, crumbly texture. Next time I'm making my favorite little sweet corn muffins, too, so I have something to eat with my beans. I have lived here nearly 15 years but stubbornly cling to my sweet cornbread ways.

Pâte à choux - Cream Puffs - Profiteroles

My mom and I often argue about cooking, especially the length of time to cook meats (3 hours at 350 degrees is a bit too much for turkey breast in my opinion) and don't agree on other aspects of cooking either. While my mom might dry out a turkey breast or two, she's a really good baker, and her cream puffs (aka profiteroles) are always exceptional. It came as a surprise to me that people have difficulty making these. Pâte à choux, the dough responsible for making cream puffs, eclairs, and gougères (with the addition of cheese), is unique. (Side note: pâte à choux is one of those great items that crosses the pastry/savory divide.) You boil water (and sometimes milk too) with butter and a pinch of salt, stir in flour and cook it until the flour dries out, then beat in eggs until you have a silken dough/batter. You pipe this (my mom just dropped spoonsful) into rounds or oblong shapes, and bake. They puff up dramatically and become hollow on the inside. There is some debate on how dry you want the interiors to be. I fall in the camp that there should be some chew to the innards while the outside is crisp. I made them last night and ate them with whipped cream. They are better with pastry cream or ice cream, though.

My mom's recipe happens to be very similar to that of Pierre Hermes, a noted pastry chef. It's very simple:

Cream Puffs

1 cup hot water (I use 1/2 water 1/2 whole milk)
1/2 cup butter
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup flour
4 eggs

Combine butter, salt and water. Bring to a boil. Add flour. Beat vigorously so it won't cling to spoon. (Note: I usually cook it for 3-4 minutes, stirring like mad.) Remove from heat and cool slightly. Add unbeaten eggs one at a time. Beat until smooth. (Note: my mom does this by hand. I use a stand mixer. Stoopid carpal tunnel.) Drop by large spoonfuls (or pipe with 1/2 inch tip into mounds) onto cookie sheet. You should get about 24 puffs. If you pipe, smooth tops down so no points remain. Bake at 400 degrees for 30 minutes then at 350 degrees for 10 minutes.

Why I can't be on a low carb diet...

I went a little wild this weekend with some pre-ferments for bread from The Bread Baker's Apprentice by Peter Reinhart. I made two firm dough starters, a pate fermentee and a biga. The latter has no salt but otherwise they are about the same. I planned to make the Pain Siciliano, a bread that also uses coarsely ground semolina (pasta flour) and Pugliese, a bread similar to Ciabatta. Well, I let time get away from my and switched from the Pugliese, which requires a lot of folding and stretching, to regular old Italian bread. I finally got around to baking the loaves last night and this morning.

First I baked the Italian loaves. They turned out OK but my absence from bread baking can be noticed. The crumb (not pictured) isn't quite as open as it should be, and it could have baked a minute or two longer.

I shaped the loaves for the Pane Siciliano while the Italian loaves were rising, but they required an overnight rest in the refrigerator. This morning I told my husband to turn on the oven when he went to make coffee (good boy!), and then baked the loaves when I dragged my ass out of bed half an hour later.

You will note that these are "S" shaped, sort of. Like I said, my absence from bread baking is apparent (as is my lack of photographic skill). I just can't bring myself to do it in the heat of summer. I "knead" to get back in the rhythm (that was so bad I really should slap myself).

Tonight we are having Monte Cristo sandwiches with the Italian loaf and the (still) leftover ham from Thanksgiving. The ham will be gone after this evening. I really enjoyed it - we make it so rarely. It's too bad pigs are so smart; they sure are tasty critters.

The Great Divide

I am tired of reading the phrase "cooking is an art and baking is a science." I have engaged in several discussions centered around the premise that baking is much more precise than cooking. Being more of a baker than a cook, I argue that cooking is also precise and that ignorance of baking is what makes people view it as being more exacting. (I also argue that baking is no more difficult than cooking, but I think I'm nearly alone in that dispute. It's easier for me, but then again, I've always been different.)

I never win any of these arguments. However, I continue to ponder this topic in the hopes that I can make my case in a better manner. I think I finally can.

I still maintain that cooking is as precise as baking (well, good cooking anyway) but I will concede that the precision is applied in a different manner. For instance, too much salt will ruin a dish, yet too little will leave it weak. There is a small window for the right amount of salt. The same can be said for leavening in a cake - too much and you'll get Mount Vesuvius; too little and you will get Great Crater Lake. There is a range of acceptable amounts but it is very narrow.

The largest difference between the two is in how the precision is achieved. In cooking, you can (and should!) add salt at various intervals, tasting as you go, until you finally end up with the right amount. In baking, you must put in the total amount of leavening before you stick the cake in the oven or have the hydration right before letting the bread rise. Both disciplines are precise, but it is generally easier to achieve the precision in cooking.

When the cooking vs. baking arguments are being made, people almost always point to cakes even though pastry encompasses much more than cake. Take pie crusts and cookies, for instance. They are similar - a dough shortened with fat, with the addition of eggs and sugar for cookies (although some pie crusts also contain these). There is a lot of room for fudge factor here. I've seen recipes for pie crusts that call for as little as 6 to as much as 12 tablespoons of fat to a cup of flour. Cookie recipes also have large variances in the amounts of leavening, types of fat and other ingredients. I think one can reasonably argue that there is a lot of wiggle room for turning out a good cookie.

But what really gets my goat is the line drawn in the sand: that is baking, this is cooking. The truth is that there are many overlapping areas, and sometimes the best foods result when this line is blurred or even obliterated. I wish people would think less in terms of baking vs. cooking, and think more about the interplay of ingredients. Egg custards and sauces immediately come to mind. Take eggs, milk and a thickener and you can have both savory and sweet by the addition of different ingredients. The techniques for producing an excellent custard, quiche, creme anglaise, or a savory sabayon are the same and should be known equally by those who profess to be cooks or bakers. 

I felt the same way about the social sciences in college. Each department fiercely defended their territory, lips raised in a snarl regarding that discipline. In fact, the areas of study overlapped greatly, and the application of tools and techniques for one discipline to another greatly increased the knowledge gained compared to studying in a single discipline. That seems to be the case for food as well. As long as people keep guarding their territory or looking with fear or condescension at the "other" discipline, it will retard the growth of both areas. I do think that there are many people now crossing this divide, and I applaud them for it. Please pass the bacon ice cream.

Bacon and Black Pepper Caramels

I recently had an opportunity to attend a demonstration by Michael Ruhlman in Cleveland. He is promoting his new book, The Elements of Cooking, and gave a demonstration at The Viking Store in Legacy Village.

Inspired by Mr. Ruhlman's previous writing in Charcuterie, and to combine two of my favorite things (baking and bacon!), I created Bacon and Black Pepper Caramels to share with Mr. Ruhlman and the other attendees. I thought they turned out pretty well for a first attempt. They were well received by the people sitting around me (or maybe they were just being polite), but I don't know how Mr. Ruhlman liked them. He probably thought I was some kind of weirdo because when I talked to him during the book signing I was flushed and had a giddy smile on my face. Hey, it wasn't my fault. I had taken some meds for a chronic muscle problem so  I could sit still for the class, and after I drank the complimentary glass of wine I was, um, well, stoned. It was a very nice buzz. (Please don't try this at home. I'm a professional ;).

Back to the caramels - they needed more pepper (and larger pieces of it; my grinder was acting up and only wanted to do a fine grind) and of course, it's impossible to have too much bacon, so next time I will up the number of crunchy bits. Here's the recipe as I would like to make it next time.

Bacon and Black Pepper Caramels
4 ounces bacon, diced into 3/8 inch squares
4 ounces additional rendered bacon fat
4 ounces unsalted butter
1 pound light brown sugar (or maple sugar!)
8 ounces light corn syrup
1 can sweetened condensed milk (NOT evaporated milk)
1 tablespoon coarsely ground black pepper (measure after grinding peppercorns)

Equipment: Heavy saucepan, wooden spoon or heat resistant spatula, thermometer that will read up to 250 degrees, 9 x 13 pan (glass or metal), parchment (optional)

Butter a 9 x 13 pan or line with baking parchment (don't use waxed paper). Fry bacon pieces in 2-3 quart heavy saucepan over medium-high heat until nearly crisp. Remove bacon bits to a small dish but leave bacon fat in the saucepan. Add butter and additional fat to the pan to melt. Stir in sugar until fully incorporated. Stir in corn syrup, sweetened condensed milk and pepper. Continue to cook over medium-high heat, stirring frequently, for 5-6 minutes, until mixture reaches about 225 degrees. Stir in reserved bacon bits and continue to cook until mixture reached firm ball stage (245 degrees F). Pour mixture into prepared pan  but don't scrape the pan (sometimes a little bit will burn on the bottom).

Let caramels cool to room temperature, which will take several hours. Once the caramels have set, turn them out onto a cutting board and cut into 1/2 x 1 inch pieces (or whatever size suits you). Wrap each piece in waxed paper or cellophane squares. The bacon fat makes these puppies want to leak through the waxed paper after a few hours, so don't be alarmed if you see spots on the wrappers.

Caramels will keep for several days unrefrigerated or a few weeks in the fridge. I haven't tried to, but I have heard that you can, freeze them for several months. Like they will last that long.