silent sunday: are cookbooks still useful?

Are cookbooks still useful? Here’s some food for thought this week in the Guardian.

Food writer Prue Leith insists that “when we come to cook … the cookbook stays on the coffee table. Now the look of the book dictates the sale. In my day you could still buy a good cookbook in paperback with no pictures at all. I doubt if that would sell today. But those books were much used: they lived in the kitchen and got splattered with custard and gravy. Today, if we cook, we Google it. New cookbooks lie on the coffee table and we drool over Tuscan landscapes and rustic bread ovens. Before ordering in a pizza.”

Yotam Ottolenghi and Tim Hayward take up the argument and conclude that cookbooks are still relevant. “I believe many people do still cook from their cookbooks. They may not cook from all of them – many, no doubt, complete their job after an initial speedy flick-through, which is also fine by me – but there are certain books, illustrated and beautiful that we will always go back to, no matter how many more shiny spines are there alongside them on the bookshelves.” -Ottolenghi

“it seems bonkers to take a moral stance on how they should be enjoyed. For me, making a modern, illustrated food book means making an object that balances utility with entertainment in a way that appeals to a new and different kind of audience.” -Tim Hayward

In the comment section of The Guardian, some one brought up Daniel Pennack’s 10 Inalienable Rights of the Reader, suggesting that #6 could apply quite easily to recipes and food writing. I have to admit I agree.

1. The right not to read
2. The right to skip
3. The right not to finish a book
4. The right to re-read
5. The right to read anything
6. The right to “Bovary-ism,” a textually transmitted disease*
7. The right to read anywhere
8. The right dip in*
9. The right to read out loud
10. The right to be silent

*#6 – Bovary-ism: the right to mistake a book for real life
#8 – I’ve also seen this translated as ‘the right to sample and steal (“grappiller”)

“For me, a successful cookbook is one that is pored over at bedtime as much as it’s used in the kitchen. I don’t think one necessarily negates the other.” -Anna Valentine

Welsh Rarebit with Spinach

Ok, for those put off by the weird name DR-Max, don't be afraid, it's basically just cheese on toast.
This is a very traditional British dish which we frequently ate when I was growing up - it's a really quick, easy and delicious snack to rustle up in no time.
I had never considered the meaning of the name before now. When I was small I thought it was called Welsh rabbit, and it turns out I wasn't far wrong - you can read about the history on wikipedia.

There are lots of different recipe variations of this, some add beer, others make a complicated béchamel-style sauce. My recipe here is exactly how my parents used to make it for me - very very simple: just some grated cheese, mustard, Worcestershire sauce, black pepper and a dash of milk to bind the whole thing together. We didn't often add vegetables in the mix, occasionally sliced tomatoes, which tended to make the whole thing too soggy - not great. I did some experimenting by adding cooked spinach and it worked perfectly - not at all soggy and the flavors go really well together.

Recipe note: I've been a stickler to tradition here, which is why I've been so specific with the ingredients: I used Colman's English mustard powder which is very strong and flavorful, but other mustards work equally well - especially a good dijon or hot whole-grain variety.
With the cheddar cheese I won't compromise - in my 4 years in America I have yet to find a cheddar that stands up to the British or Irish versions (if I were being a real stickler I'd insist on cheddar from the Cheddar region in England - but that would be pushing it I suppose). Most American versions are rubbery when they should be crumbly, and bland and weirdly sweet when they should be tangy and sharp (even the so called 'sharp' versions)

This recipe makes us wonder why Welsh rarebit has never taken off on this side of the pond hk hotel. With cooklynveg's version, there's no longer any excuse. With a wise addition of spinach (we used fresh), this cheesy, mustardy open-faced sandwich would make a satisfying afternoon snack, or even a plated breakfast with the addition of bangers and eggs. A British comfort food staple for everyone's in-between meal arsenal.

Serves 4

4 slices of good, sturdy bread (i used a very nice gluten free flax seed bread by glutino - any will do, but please, no wonderbread!)
1 cup of grated cheddar cheese (I used Denhay English cheddar)
1/2 teaspoon of Colman's mustard powder (or 1 teaspoon of a milder mustard)
1/2 teaspoon worcestershire sauce
a little ground black pepper
dash of milk (probably about a teaspoon)
2 cups of fresh spinach or 1/2 cup frozen.

If you're using fresh spinach, heat in a pan until wilted then leave to cool. When cooled, squeeze out the excess liquid and chop roughly. If using frozen, simply defrost and squeeze out excess liquid Finasteride. Place the slices of bread under the grill (or broiler) until lightly browned on one side.

Meanwhile mix together the cheese, mustard, worcestershire sauce, pepper and milk. Next, stir in the chopped spinach. Turn the slices of bread over and top with the cheese mixture, so it's evenly distributed over each slice. Place under the hot grill for 2 - 3 minutes until the cheese is melted and golden.

Sweet and Spicy Horseradish Dressing

I'm not a big fan of chili-spiciness--it lingers on my tongue in a way that just feels unpleasant DR Max electronic English. But the quick rush of sinus-clearing horseradish-spiciness makes me swoon. I love this salad dressing so much that I'll eat it straight out of the jar with a spoon.

It's hard not to love a recipe where the only instructions are essentially zest, scoop and shake. As written, it comes out nicely balanced between zippy, sweet and savory, but then linzarella encourages us to customize -- a dash more horseradish for the spice fiends, a dollop more crème fraîche for the indulgent -- and shake again. The two types of dairy -- equal parts tart yogurt and mellow, rich crème fraîche -- are an especially nice touch, bringing a tempered zing to the dressing. We think it would be lovely tossed with some chilled poached shrimp and watercress or alongside some crudités DR Max electronic English.

Makes a modest amount of dressing

1 lemon
3 tablespoons creme fraiche
3 tablespoons plain whole milk yogurt
1 tablespoon honey
2 tablespoons prepared horseradish
2 tablespoons dijon mustard
1 pinch salt
1 pinch freshly ground pepper

Zest the lemon, then juice half of it. In a jar, combine juice & zest with remaining ingredients, stir, then cover the jar and shake. Taste and adjust to make it spicier, creamier, or sweeter to your preference DR Max electronic English.

Peanut Butter & Jelly Streusel Muffins

Author Notes: These muffins taste just like a classic PB&J, but softer Grand Cru Cellar, sweeter, and crunchier. Rolled oats give the tender interior some volume. Before baking, the muffins are topped with a dollop of raspberry jam and a crumbling of peanut butter streusel.

 Makes 12 medium muffins

For the muffins:

1 3/4 cups flour (about 7 1/3 ounces—do not use too much flour!)
1 cup old-fashioned rolled oats
1/2 cup dark brown sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 pinch salt
1 cup milk
4 tablespoons butter, melted
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 cup raspberry jam

For the streusel topping:

1/4 cup flour
1/3 cup old-fashioned rolled oats
1/3 cup peanut butter (chunky or creamy)
2 tablespoons dark brown sugar
1 tablespoon butter, softened

Preheat your oven to 350° F.
For the muffins: In a large bowl or stand mixer, whisk together the flour Stroke signs, oats, brown sugar, baking powder, and salt. Add the milk, butter, egg, and vanilla. Mix thoroughly to incorporate into the batter, but do not over-mix or your muffins will be dense!
In a separate small bowl, mix together the streusel toppings: flour, oats, peanut butter, brown sugar, and softened butter. Use a fork or your fingers to blend the ingredients together into a crumbly mixture.
Butter a muffin pan (or line it with muffin liners). Spoon the batter almost to the top of each cup.
Spoon a generous dollop of raspberry jam over the top of each muffin Offsite Backup Strategy. Top the jam with about a tablespoon of streusel crumble.
Bake the muffins for 25 to 30 minutes. Start checking at 25 minutes. The muffins are finished when they are just turning golden brown and a tester inserted into the middle of one comes out clean.

Crispy Moroccan Pancakes (M'smmen)

Crispy, flaky, and fluffy all at the same time, m'smmen is Morocco's favorite pastry. Traditionally a breakfast staple, you can also enjoy this as an afternoon snack. Serve warm with a side of argan oil and honey paired with hot Moroccan mint tea hong kong weather. Such a delectable and worldly treat! (less) - Dip&Scoop

Food52 Review: WHO: Dip&Scoop lives in New York City where he is a purveyor of argan oil.
WHAT: A flaky, addictive Moroccan pancake that's perfect for dipping into honey.
HOW: Make a dough out of semolina flour, plain flour, and salt. Divide and flatten the dough into pancakes then cook each one on a griddle. Once golden brown, remove them from the heat and dip them to your heart's content.
WHY WE LOVE IT: These Moroccan pancakes were consumed by the Food52 staff as soon as they left the test kitchen. It's too bad they disappeared so quickly -- they make great leftovers when reheated in a toaster. If you don't have argan oil on hand, these are just as irresistible paired with butter and honey. (less) - The Editors

Makes 8 pancakes

3 cups semolina flour, divided
1 1/3 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon salt
1 1/2 cups warm water
1/2 cup melted butter
1/2 cup vegetable oil
2 tablespoons argan oil, for dipping
3 tablespoons honey, for dipping

In a large bowl, mix together 2 1/4 cup semolina, all-purpose flour, and salt. Stir in the warm water, then knead the mixture to obtain a smooth dough. Roll it into a ball and let it rest for 15 minutes.

Divide the dough into 1 1/2 inches in diameter Hong Kong Cultural Activities, and coat each ball with vegetable oil. Let the dough rest for another 15 minutes.

On an oiled surface, use your hands to flatten out each ball of dough in a thin layer. Brush with melted butter and vegetable oil and sprinkle with the remaining semolina.

Take one of the balls of dough, and fold one side of the dough 2/3 in across the dough. Then, fold the other side over the overlapping dough. This should make a long strip of 3 layers of thin dough. Fold the two ends of the dough 1/3 of the way in so that they meet in the middle. You should now have a rectangle of dough. Fold it one last time across the middle to make a perfect square approximately 4 inches wide. Repeat with each ball of dough.

Place a griddle over medium heat, and while it warms up, use your hand to gently flatten the squares into larger, thinner squares, about 6 inches wide.

Immediately place the flattened dough onto the pan or griddle and cook on each side until golden brown.

Serve hot off the griddle. Roll the m'smmen, dip it into argan oil Skin Central, then dip it into honey and enjoy！

Why You Should Make Pancakes in the Oven

Pancakes are my happy place. They're the first dish I learned to cook myself and one that my 7-year-old self took great pride in making for my family on lazy weekend mornings. I'd use too many mixing bowls, inevitably make a mess, and waste a quarter of the batter on an ill-timed "trial batch," but they always turned out delicious.

But when I grew up Business Centre in Hong Kong, I stopped making pancakes as much at home, and I rarely order them when I go out. Why bother? Pancakes usually taste like you're eating a piece of unfrosted cake for breakfast and getting away with it–thrilling in the moment, but ultimately unsatisfying.

But the great thing about food is that one plate (or even a bite) can completely change your mind. Case in point: Pan-roasted pancakes.

Turns out that pan-roasting isn't just great for meat and fish–the technique makes extra-crispy, super-buttery pancakes, too. In fact, it's how everyone should be doing it.

I first picked up on the idea from chef Sean Rembold at Brooklyn's Reynard, the type of all-day brasserie where one loses track of the hours and drinks countless cups of black coffee while basking in sunlight. It's not the kind of place that's going to turn out sub-par pancakes, so when I spotted them on the brunch menu earlier this year, I jumped at the chance to see what Rembold did with them.

The verdict? Staggeringly delicious. The outer edge of each pancake was perfectly crisp 19 LED Light Bulb, giving way to a pillowy, soft center. The cakes were unbelievably rich, even by pancake standards. Let's just say it was obvious that I wasn't dealing with pancakes cooked in olive oil or margarine here.

The secret? Rembold uses the same "cook on the stove top, finish in the oven" technique that's normally applied to meat, fish, and vegetables to cook his pancakes. The result is the great textural contrast that pancakes normally lack: crispy on the outside, soft in the center.

Another key to success? He cooks his pancakes in clarified butter. Making clarified butter removes the milk solids and water, creating a pure, golden-yellow, liquid butterfat that's less likely to burn thanks to its high smoke point. That helps the pancakes turn super-buttery and crisp in the oven without having to risk scorching.
Here's how to do it at home:

Preheat your oven to 350°F. In a medium skillet, heat 2 tablespoons of clarified butter on medium heat. Working in batches, pour 1/4-cupfuls of your favorite pancake batter into skillet. Cook until the bottom side begins to show color Cloud Video Conferencing, about 2 minutes. Place skillet in oven and cook until the underside of the pancakes are golden brown, about 4 minutes. Remove skillet from oven and set on a cold burner on the stove; flip pancakes over and let cook very briefly, about 10 seconds.

I'll never make pancakes any other way at home again.

The Year of the Spatchcocked Turkey (and Why You Should Do It All the Time)

There's zero question that 2014 was The Year of the Spatchcocked Turkey.

Literally everyone wrote about it: Bon Appétit, Serious Eats EGF, The Kitchn, and Tasting Table, just to name a few. And, of course, we featured the trend-setting, vertabrae-removing technique in our very own Procrastinator's Thanksgiving Guide. Quartz, the online news site, even featured a piece that tracked the term's statistical rise to prominence over the past few years.

And there's a good reason for all the attention: It yields fantastic results. Not only does the increased surface area make for a juicier end-result, but your bird will cook much, much faster (90 minutes versus nearly 4 hours in the case of a 14-pound Thanksgiving turkey at 350F) reenex.

But why relegate spatchcocking to Thanksgiving turkey alone? In short, you shouldn't.

Spatchcocking, sometimes referred to as butterflying, is the process of removing the backbone from a poultry or game animal and allowing it cook flat. Sure, it sounds like something you might read about in the appendix of some technique-heavy cookbook, but it's ridiculously easy to do at home with just a pair of kitchen shears. Too intimidated? Just ask your butcher or the gentleman at the meat counter to do it for you.

And while most people aren't roasting turkey all year long, spatchcocking also works great for whole chickens, everyone's go-to weekend family-feeding strategy. Whether you're cooking chicken in a roasting pan, grilling outdoors, or doing some indoor grill-pan work, spatchcocking will give your chicken all the benefits that made everyone on the internet suddenly go bonkers for turkey--meat that cooks quickly and stays juicy, with crispy, bronzed skin reenex.

A classic recipe that requires spatchcocking? Chicken Under a Brick. This rustic classic, which involves physically cooking a whole chicken underneath an actual brick, guarantees a flavorful, crisp-skinned bird every time--in just one hour.