Rhubarb fizz + an update

First, I have an announcement. Half (the more absent one, ahem) of Slainte has flown the Minnesota coop. Kileen is currently on her way to the Southwest, where she's going to live for the foreseeable future. Her new charge is to bring the best in Midwest/Southwest fusion to this blog.

What better way to toast Kileen's future in the land of blazing sun and cacti than with a cool, fizzy drink?

My rhubarb syrup (recipe here) isn't exactly the lovely ruby-pink color I was envisioning. It looks more orange than anything, but here on Slainte, we don't judge solely on appearances. What matters is that this vanilla-rhubarb simple syrup makes a light yet satisfying flavor for a homemade soda.

Let's all raise a glass for Kileen. I am sure you'll join me in wishing her all the best.

On our table

 

Chris's perfectly flipped omelet. Cherry tomatoes, mushrooms, basil, chèvre.

Asparagus pizza, thanks to Smitten Kitchen.

Salad. Baby greens, roasted red bell peppers, cucumbers, carrots. Lots of butter-fried garlic croutons.

One-Pan Pasta, before.

One-Pan Pasta, after. A must-try.

Rhubarb Cobbler—Smitten Kitchen strikes again.

Yeasted waffles

Marion Cunningham's yeasted waffles have been in the back of my mind for quite some time. Though, for whatever reason, I always default to the Oh Boy! Waffles recipe from the often-used red-and-white-checkered cookbook of my childhood.

 

These aren't called Oh Boy! Waffles, but I'm sure that "oh boy!" was at least one of the descriptive phrases I used when I took the first waffle out of the iron and put it in my mouth. These are crisp on the outside, ultra light and air-pocketed on the inside. I usually am content to eat my waffles plain, maybe spread with butter. While I had my fair share of these plain, the minimal sugar content meant they were especially perfect with butter and a maple syrup drizzle.

 

Speaking of raised waffles, the Tuesday after I made these, I discovered that Smitten Kitchen and I were on the same brain wave. It made me almost as happy as these waffles did. Almost.

Artisan Ciabatta With Four Common Kitchen Items

Of course I would choose the first 70-degree day of 2013 to crank up my oven to 480 degrees and bake a loaf of bread. At least I had my homemade iced chai to keep me cool.

I’ve owned Baking Artisan Bread for a while now but always think to make something from it a little too late—most recipes require you to mix up the bread starter (poolish or biga, depending on your bread) and let that ferment  overnight before proceeding with the dough.

Additionally, there were more than a few bread-baking supplies specified that I didn’t have. Namely, a couche, peel, baking stone, or steam tray. Bolded is what was initially specified, followed by what I substituted:

1.     Couche: Parchment paper and a flour-coated paper towel. When the instructions called for me to put the dough on a floured couche as well as cover it with a floured couche, I put the bread on parchment paper and covered it with a paper towel I had smeared with flour.

2.     Baking stone: Cast-iron skillet. This seemed to work okay. I got this idea from the no-knead bread phenomenon that swept the food blog world a few years ago.

3.     Peel: Parchment paper on a baking sheet (book-suggested substitution). Instead of using a peel, I put the dough on parchment paper for its final proof, and when it was ready to bake, I slid that off a baking sheet directly into the skillet, so the bread stayed on the parchment paper the entire baking time. This worked pretty well to get it into the skillet without burning myself.

4.     Steam tray: 9-inch metal cake pan. I preheated this in the oven with the skillet and poured ice cubes into it when I put the bread in. Not sure how it performed, because I didn’t open the oven to see because I didn’t want to let any potential steam out.

One part of the directions gave me a little cause for improv: “Transfer each loaf onto the peel by lifting the pleat of the couche and rolling the loaf onto the peel. . . . [T]he side of the loaf that was proofing down on the flour should now be the top of the loaf . . . .”

Uh, well. That presented a bit of a problem since I wasn’t using a couche, first of all, and couldn’t figure out how to roll the loaf with my little sheet of parchment. Also, it was more square than the loaves pictured in the book, which made it harder to roll. Basically I just ended up praying that what I was about to do would work, then flipped the whole thing over as fast as I could. I’m not sure if that damaged the loaf in any way. . . .

Verdict: Not as pretty as I hoped. Maybe slightly rustically attractive. Happily for the ciabatta, I never judge anything strictly by appearance in my kitchen, and despite its looks, this ciabatta was delicious. Also, I think I’ll invest in a couche.

Try the Chai

I finally hopped on the chai tea bandwagon a few months ago. I like it hot or cold, but unfortunately, like with most tea, I only like it sugared up and diluted with milk in latte form. Despite my need for sweetener, I find most coffee shop chai lattes to be too sweet by themselves. So I always order a dirty chai—one shot of espresso (regular if I don’t mind being overcaffeinated, decaf if I’m feeling responsible) balances out the sugar.

When I saw this chai concentrate recipe from Rebecca of Foodie with Family, I thought I’d give it a try because I am all about making store-bought things at home. Also, I wondered if it would be good without having to add espresso, since I don’t have easy means of making that.

The perfect day to boil up the concentrate came along on April 22, when the great outdoors looked like this:

Yes, that is the beginning of 6 inches of snowfall we received April 22.

But the day I made this it was April 27, and the high was 70, so the time is right to try the chai. Instead of heating milk and making it warm, I went the chilled route. Both the concentrate and milk I added were straight from the fridge, so no ice for me. (Note the sneak peek for next post.)

Added bonus: my yummy 8-ounce chai cost me about $0.45. A nice $2+ savings for me for not succumbing to the Starbucks siren song. . .

Breakfast pizza + celery

I have a two projects waiting in the wings, but due to an unfortunate photo mishap in which I didn't transfer a few of the images I need to complete the posts, those will have to wait. Instead, I bring you a recent recipe attempt and a pickled celery preparation.

This is the pizza attempt. I found in Parade in the Sunday paper a few weeks ago, and both the husband and I decided it looked good. There were red onions, roasted red peppers, olives, parmesan, and eggs. We weren't too impressed though. I don't know if it was the egg or the way-too-fiery chiles that he decided to put on his half (most of which ended up being picked off), but we won't be making it again.

On to the pickled celery, which was delicious. Think garnish for egg salad, regular salad, etc. Smitten Kitchen was, as is often the case, my source for this, but I used rice vinegar instead of the white wine variety because that's what I had. Dissolve 1 teaspoon salt and 1/2 teaspoon sugar in 2 tablespoons each vinegar and water, then add a finely minced stalk of celery and allow it to refrigerate for an hour. Then make sure to take a picture because the light coming in from outside is lovely.