It's berry season and often our eyes are bigger than our execution. We scoop up pints and quarts of gorgeous fruit and then they molder on a refrigerator shelf. So this week we resolved to keep up with our produce, not an easy thing now that our CSA has kicked in, and stay on top of things. To that end I decided to make muffins. We can eat a fair number and fortunately there are neighbors near-by happy to accept the excess. We had a quart of still beautiful raspberries sitting beside a newer one of blueberries so the decision of what flavor was easy, golden corn muffins with fresh raspberries and a hint of lemon.
We like a rustic muffin that could never be confused with a cupcake. I used masa harina corn flour because that's the finest cornmeal we had on hand. It produced a light, flavorful muffin with a slight crunch. As I was putting together the muffins I looked at my bowl of dry ingredients and the plate of washed berries and wondered about the wisdom of adding the fruit last. They always seem to clump so that the final muffins have less fruit and soft berries tend to run and break no matter whether or not I dust them with dry mix in advance. Why not add them to the dry ingredients first? So I did, tossing them lightly in the flour before pouring in the liquids. The presence of the raspberries made me very gentle in my mixing process and although they did break up a bit, they were well distributed and the juices didn't run in the batter. I'm one of those people who are usually starving when the muffins come out and eat one within five minutes or so of them landing on the counter. The berries themselves were very tart straight from the oven. The fruit this season has been particularly acidic around here and I discovered that if you let the muffins cool the berries become much more flavorful and the less abrasive. For breakfast a tasty muffin, or three, really can't be beat.
Raspberry Corn Muffins
1 cup of fine corn meal or masa harina
1 cup AP flour
6 tablespoons sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 1/4 cup buttermilk at room temperature
2 eggs at room temperature
3 tablespoons melted butter
zest of a lemon or 1/2 teaspoon lemon oil
1 pint fresh, clean raspberries (or in my case a light quart)
Preheat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Prepare a 12-cup muffin tin by lining with cupcake papers or spraying with non-stick spray.
Combine the dry ingredients in a large bowl and whisk together. in a separate bowl whisk together the eggs, butter, and buttermilk. Stir in the lemon zest or lemon oil. Add the berries to the dry ingredients and mix gently with a rubber spatula until they are coated with flour. Pour in the buttermilk mixture all at once and fold the wet and dry ingredients together until just blended. Fill each muffin cup with 1/3 cup batter.
Bake 18-20 minutes until golden brown and firm to the touch. Cool for ten minutes and remove muffins from the tins. Let cool an aditional ten minutes before eating.
This dish is a tried and true combination presented with some not so traditional components. The tomatoes are peeled and seasoned with cayenne and salt. The twist comes with the roasted tomato ice cream and a liquid fresh mozzarella encased in tomato skin. The classic accents of basil and balsamic are used to great effect. The key was to weave together the expected and the unusual. The ice cream has a velvety richness and the flavor of dark roasted tomatoes. The mozzarella, which is warm, is a creamy mouthful of sweet dairy balanced by the acidic tang of the tomato. From afar, the dish just looks like a pile of tomatoes garnished with basil and balsamic vinegar. The fun is in the eating when we discover delicious surprises hidden in plain sight.
Our first application of smoked phyllo was on artichokes. We poached the artichokes sous vide at 85 degrees C for two hours, chilled them down and cut them into wedges. The slight moisture on the chokes provided enough sticktoittiveness to adhere the smoked phyllo. We paired the crusted artichokes with maple yogurt, baby fennel and maple-maldon. The results were delicious, the elements simple, the extrapolations are endless.
There is an assumption that dashi must be made from kombu and bonito. Research reveals that shiitake dashi is not uncommon and is part of the Japanese cooking arsenal. In looking at the traditional Italian gnudi we wondered about the way they are cooked. Gnudi, the delicate filling of a ravioli without the pasta, can be a chef's Achilles heel. Getting gnudi right, delicate, full flavored, and with enough structure to hold their shape is difficult. Finally, it dawned on us, why not use a form or a support to shape gnudi during the traumatic cooking process.? The first question led to the second, why should we boil delicate gnudi in water if there was a way to keep the flavor in the dumpling itself. So, as with all questions, we tried something different. We wrapped our swiss chard-ricotta gnudi in plastic wrap and poached them to hold the shape and keep all the flavor in the dumplings. We chilled the gnudi once they were cooked and then gently warmed them to serve the dish. We paired our newly shaped gnudi with sun dried tomato and porcini dashi. The final dish added roasted king trumpet mushrooms and small leaves of swiss chard to create a satisfying and elegant vegetarian dish.
The hidden gem in this dish is the quinoa butter which we just happened upon. We have a fair number of ideas which we will explore. Its role as a the base for leeks vinaigrette, holding nasturtium flowers in place ranks up there in both taste and aesthetic. A batter and soup are in the works as are streusel and yes, cookies.
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