I just wanted to share with everyone my latest culinary triumph. Thanks to Bill for taking such beautiful pictures!
I’m not known for my deep thoughts or witty observations, so I beg your patience for what follows.
As I lay in our new bath tub this evening (an incredibly comfortable porcelain number with a fantastic sloping back, the kind made for reading and relaxing) reading the latest issue of Bon Appetit, my mind began to wander. First to how my mind always seems to go elsewhere while I’m in contact with water, whether I’m washing my hands at work for the umpteenth time or trying to get food ink off my arms at home. Then to food. I realize that everyone is shocked by this statement, clapping a hand over the aghast expressions on their mouths, and exclaiming “Jes was thinking about food?!”. But I wasn’t just thinking about what I was going to make for supper next Monday night, taking a mental inventory list of what is in my fridge, or trying to think of a dessert to make with asparagus. I was thinking of my emotional experiences and social class within the culinary world. When did I become a gastronomer? How does one even get to that point in their lives?
Most everyone is introduced to cooking in their mother’s or grandmother’s kitchens. Favorable or not, you would sigh nostalgically at the smell of chicken noodle soup and the yellowish-brown counter tops (as they seemed to be popular a few decades ago). I remember the mantra of my grandparents and parents to eat whatever was put in front of me and while I often hid my peas under a glass, the notion has stuck. Simple meals, simply prepared with simple flavors and ingredients have now been replaced with everything just the opposite. I can no long look at my meals and say “that is chicken noodle soup”. Now it is open-range corn-fed chicken braised with garlic and shallots in an organic vegetable stock with fresh ground peppercorn and rosemary poolish chibatta. What? Grandma’s oh so wonderful yet entirely unreplicable chocolate cookies replaced with thyme infused parfait and fleur de sel caramel. Observing these changes in my palette lead me to pine for what I’ve lost and cheer at what I’ve gained. I have risen into the upper echelons of taste and conquered my will to eat raw ramen. Okay, that is not entirely true, I still like raw ramen. But I’m saddened for the people that can’t to that. The people that will never have the chance to be simple.
It’s something you never think about. Something you never expect until one day a precocious eight year old inquires to the cocoa percentage of his hot chocolate or a birthday party for a three year old that requires a fresh raspberry, creme bavarios, and lemon chiffon cake and that cake better say ‘Happy Birthday Wil’ with one ‘L’. God forbid if there are two. It’s a strange sensation to see those children in the future ordering valrhona fondue with amarene cherries and fresh fruit; complaining about a single ding or blemish on a strawberries and allowing hell to reign within the restaurant and the poor managers. I fail to understand this mentality. I can admire a flawless strawberry and Pavlovian drool at the thought of my teeth sinking into it; but I’d take a box full of imperfect ones with slightly brown tipped leaves over one perfect one any day of the week and be just as happy. While people have earned the right to eat as they please, someone needs to hand them grilled cheese and condensed tomato soup and tell them to eat what’s been put in front of them. There is a point when you’re far too old to act like a child, no matter how much wealth you have.
So I got a new job and started today. Gotta say, it was pretty awesome; but there was one specific event that made it the best first day in all history of first days.
I think that we were making panatone, though I’m not sure anymore; but we had a bunch of water bottles that were capped off and had fermenting apples in water for 6 days. Needless to say, the bottles were a little swollen and hard. The executive chef, “Dad”, came in to see what we were doing when we started to open them. Things were going fine for a little bit, then all of the sudden, one bottle exploded with a bang, shot up to hit the clock and then went THROUGH the ceiling, spraying fermented apple bits all over the pastry kitchen. After a few minutes of shock and just looking at each other, we went about the business of cleaning things up. The rest of my shift, various employees and fellow kitchen folk ventured into the pastry kitchen to stare at the hole in the ceiling and state random obscenities of awe. Schadenfood.
During my recent excursion home I had the chance to spend a lot of time with my grandparents. My Grandma watched my sister and I a lot when we were little and, as a result, we ate a lot of her cooking. Some of it I still gag at, like cole slaw; but others I can’t get enough of and always gorge myself into a happy bliss on when I’m there, like her chili. One of my childhood favorites, as well as my Dad’s, was Grandma’s chocolate cookies. Widely being the most snuck cookie while Grandma wasn’t looking (though she seemed to always catch us anyway), I was determined to get her recipe and duplicate them for myself.
With recipe in hand, I went back home and started working on a multitude of cookies (as I had received some recipes from Ian’s mom as well). This weekend I got around to the chocolate cookies of yore. Following the recipes almost precisely (I always replace shortening with butter and adjust liquid quantities accordingly), I was sadden to discover that my cookie batter was not as dark as I remembered, nor did it taste as chocolaty as I remembered. Convincing myself that this was due to the fact that they had not been baked, I proceeded to pipe them out and bake. After 12 minutes at 375 degrees, I was still downtrodden at the results. The cookies were the right consistency; but what was wrong. It couldn’t have been the simple lack of the smell of Grandma’s house accompanied by the ever so elusive ingredient, nostalgia.
I looked over the recipe again and noted that it was not in Grandma’s writing. Ah ha! That must be the issue. Whoever wrote it down clearly messed up. I proceed to call Grandma to rectify this. “No, that’s right”, was the answer I received. I let out a huff and she continued, “but here is what I use to do differently.” The recipe calls for buttermilk, that not always being available, she would substitute 1 cup of milk plus 1 tbsp. of vinegar. The recipe also called for cocoa powder. While this is widely available today, it wasn’t always and for this reason Grandma usually replaced it with carob powder. Carob? What the heck is that? *Heads off to pour through her books*
Also known as St John’s Bread, carob is a native to the countries surrounding the Mediterranean Sea and the Middle East. While it has many uses, including as a medicine and adhesive, I was most interested in why it can be substituted for chocolate. Here is what I found.
Carob powder is used whenever a recipe calls for chocolate or cocoa. To replace carob for cocoa, simply use the same amount of carob. To replace chocolate with carob, use approximately three tablespoons of carob powder for each
square of chocolate that the recipe calls for. Carob can also be used as a sugar replacement. Carob powder is almost 50% natural sugar and can be used instead of sugar in virtually all bread and pastry products. Of course, using carob will result in chocolate-brown colored foods and will impart a vaguely chocolate-like flavor. Another reason to use carob is its unique flavor. It’s often referred to as a chocolate substitute, but carob does have its own unique flavor which lends itself well to shakes, malts, bread products, and even mixed into baked beans and barbecue sauces. Carob powder is somewhat reminiscent of chocolate; a fresh carob pod however, has a flavor more similar to dates.
Carob is so different nutritionally and chemically from chocolate that people allergic to chocolate can enjoy carob. Because it does not contain caffeine, theobromines, or other psychoactive substances, it is a hypoallergenic substitute. It is also an incredibly rich food source, and it perhaps the ideal “survival food” since it lasts a long time, requires no special storage conditions, and can be eaten with no preparations. It is rich in calcium, containing 352 mg. per 100 grams, contains small amounts of sodium and iron, is rich in vitamin A, the B vitamins, and many other minerals, and has no oxalic acid, as does chocolate, which tends to interfere with the body’s ability to assimilate calcium. Carob pods are about four percent protein and 76% carbohydrates. Although carob is very sweet, it contains 60% less calories than chocolate. Additionally, carob contains substantial phosphorus (81 mg. per 100
grams). *Information from Christopher Nyerges’ “Guide to Wild Foods”
Well now that I understand it a little better, let’s see if it makes the difference in Grandma’s chocolate cookies.
I realize that it’s been awhile since I posted, so I’ll make a quick post before I head back to Ohio for a few days.
My mom came to visit this week. Have I taken her to the Golden Gate Bridge? Nope. How about Alcatraz? Nope. The Warf? Coit Tower? Insert random city attraction? Nope, nope nope. Well what have we been doing then?
Eating. Lots and lots of eating. Rainbow Pizza, Shabuway, Kabul, Buckhorn. There are just too many great places to eat. I also drug her to a surprise party that was awesome.
I’ll leave you with a picture of the cake I made for it.
This, this is why I can’t be a normal pastry chef….
Why do I feel the need to make things strange?
Why do I need peoples’ brains to think more than twice before trying one of my creations?
Why the hell won’t I just make a simple chocolate cake?
….I don’t know….there is clearly something wrong with me.
Why this rant you may ask? Whenever I get the time I like to make a random dessert for the Friday meeting at OOO. There are many people there that are adventurous enough for me to be able to bounce my random recipes off of them and receive frank and honest feedback in return. Tomorrow I will be testing my newest creation on them, chocolate-vanilla-green tea-orange infused cheesecake with raspberry-pomegranate coulli.
