The Morning After

What do you eat for the meal AFTER you think you had your last? The way the media and government officials carried on about Hurricane Irene, I assumed Saturday night's fried egg, cheese, and bacon on puff pastry might be my "last meal." This morning, the dozen eggs I laid in in case of power outages (we cook with gas) looked inviting, so I found a baked asparagus omelet recipe in Judith & Evan Jones's THE L.L. BEAN BOOK OF NEW NEW ENGLAND COOKERY (yes, that's two "new"s--they bring "a light contemporary touch to the great traditions of New England cookery"). If I live until spring, through the upcoming "severe" weather that is no doubt to come, I'll try it again with local asparagus. Lovely, whether the spears come from near or far.

"Tuile" We Meet Again

For a colleague's leaving party, we were asked to contribute something French since she's moving to Paris. I got out my reliable SIMPLE FRENCH COOKING (Lorenz Books (c) 1995, 2008) and found "tuiles d'Amandes," simple cookies named after the French roof tiles they resemble. It called for me to cream the butter with an electric mixer. Every time I've done that, I seem to lose all the moisture in the butter. So, I checked JOY OF COOKING for their recipe and, since it used melted butter, I went with that one. Merveilleuse, if I do say so myself! To get the perfect shape, you need to wrap the warm cookie around a thin rolling pin, like a baton, these didn't have as much curve as I would've liked. But they kept in an air-tight container for 2 1/2 days...fresh, fragrant...delicieux!

From JOY OF COOKING 7th Anniversary Edition (c) 2006
About 30 3-inch wafers (I always have trouble making the yield JOY... gives; this made 18 3-inch wafers)

The trick is to work quickly using a wide spatula with a very thin blade.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Generously grease or line 2 cookie sheets or line with parchment paper or silicone liners. Have ready several rolling pins or bottles about the same size to shape the wafers.

Coarsely chop and set aside:
1/2 to 2/3 cup sliced almonds blanched or unblanched
Whisk together in a medium bowl until forthy:
2 large egg whites
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/3 cup plus 1 tablespoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
(1/4 teaspoon almond extract)
Gradually whisk in:
1/2 cup cake flour, sifted (I used all-purpose flour, with no repercussions)
Whisk in until well blended and smooth:
5 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and cooled slightly

Drop by heaping measuring tablespoonsfuls about 3 inches apart onto the cookie sheets. Using a small metal spatula, work in a circular motion, spreading each portion into a 3-inch round. (The batter was thin; it spread perfectly by itself.) Sprinkle with the nuts.

Bake until golden brown around the edges, 6 to 9 minutes. Remove the sheet to a rack and let stand for a few seconds. Working quickly, lay the cookies, bottom side down, over the rolling pins or bottles, and let cool completely. If some of the wafers cool too quickly to shape them, return the sheet to the oven briefly to warm and soften them.

Rain, Rain...Don't Go Away

For those of us lucky enough to live within dashing-in-a-slicker distance from the supermarket, a rainy day is a good excuse to spend much of the day in the kitchen.

Sunday brunch today, complete with a side of Bloody Mary, was a no-brainer apple-cheese tart. The recipe is from the September 2011 issue of Country Living. I made the same stupid mistake of opting for the lesser-priced ingredient: Emmenthaler (about $7.00) rather than Gruyere (about $16; that price differential may show a smidgeon of intelligence, after all!). The latter, cubed, must melt a lot better than the former because I was left after 20 minutes of baking at 400 degrees F with cubes intact, though softened. Other than that, it was tasty, if a bit bland.

You could ramp up the flavor with blue cheese and pear, feta and tomato with Kalamata olives, even Provolone and salami. Being able to do one tart at a time allows you to clean out the fridge of any ingredients that will marry well.

The schedule for the rest of this afternoon? Roasted tomato sauce for homemade pizza!

SAVORY GRUYERE-APPLE TARTS
Makes 4 tarts

2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 small yellow onion, finely diced
1 sheet frozen puff pastry, thawed
2 large Braeburn apples, peeled, cored, and thinly sliced
4 ounces Gruyere, chopped into 1/4-inch cubes

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. In a small skillet over medium heat, melt 1 tablespoon butter. Saute onion until softened, about 5 minutes. Set aside.
2. Meanwhile, on a work surface, roll out puff pastry to a 13-by-10-inch rectangle. Cut dough into four 6 1/2-by-5-inch rectangles. Using a sharp knife, score 4 lines to create a 1/2-inch border all the way around each tart. Transfer to a parchment lined baking pan.
3. Divide half of onion mixture among tarts. Layer apples in 3 slightly overlapping rows on each. Top with remaining onion mixture and cheese. Dot with remaining butter. Bake tarts until apples are tender and cheese is golden, about 20 minutes.

FABULOUS!

Here I am with Dr. Brent Ridge, a geriatrician-turned-farm owner, whose Beekman 1802 business is booming in Sharon Springs, NY. These goats provide milk for soap (their first product, inspired by the pleased reception by Martha Stewart of a handmade bar for Christmas) and a delicious hard cheese called Blaak. Its rind is an edible black ash molded in a handsome rustic pattern.

The business is named for their mansion, a Federal house of exquisite symmetry. Brent gave us a private tour, taking Chuck and me up into the attic to see the wooden pegs and hand-hewn beams that keep this glorious residence together. We also saw the Beekman family crypt, the new sunflower garden, the to-die-for sunken flower garden, the turkey and Aracauna chickens, the goats, the llama, a feral-turned-tame cat named Orange-and-White, and the extensive vegetable garden. They grow or raise 80% of what they consume (including meat in the form of a cow once every two years and a couple of pigs who were arriving later that day).

What a treat to tour this tidy farm: seasonal living without the muck (though a day of summer sunshine makes it look less mucky than a gray day in winter or, worse, early spring).