Multigrain seed no-knead bread

 

 

More questions from a five-year old.

 

Son: "Mommy, what does your saliva taste like?"

 

Me: "...".

 

After some thought:

 

Me: "I'm not sure, pretty neutral. I guess like yours".

 

"So does everybody's saliva taste the same?"

 

"Yes, sweetie. I think so". I wasn't about to tell him I had made my small contribution to research on that in my day.

 

What I do know for sure, however, is that  not all breads taste the same. Definitely not.

 



 

I've posted recipes for no-knead bread before. A wholewheat recipe and a wholewheat oatmeal recipe, but this is my favorite to date. So I had to let you know about it.

 

I followed a general recipe from this website (which only slightly differs from my usual recipe in quantities and rising time) but using my own ingredients. I really liked the mix of flour and grains I used but I am sure that the extra proofing time was key for the lovely crumb.

Ingredients
1 cup all purpose flour
1 cup oat flour
1 cup 6-grain rolled cereal
1/4 cup flax seeds
1 1/2 cups luke warm water
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp yeast

 

In a large bowl mix the flour, salt and yeast. Add the water and stir until your dough looks shaggy.

Cover with plastic wrap and let sit at room temperature (I put it in my oven) for up to 24 hours (the recipe says between 8-18 but I left it for almost 24 hours).

Preheat your oven to 450°F/225°C.

Turn the dough (which will have risen considerably and look bubbly) onto a well floured surface and shape into a ball, making sure you dust flour on your hands beforehand. Cover again with plastic wrap.

Thouroughly heat a Dutch oven/Le Creuset in the oven for about 30 minutes and then proceed to put the dough in.

Bake covered for thirty minutes and then another 15 minutes uncovered so the crust turns a nice golden brown. To be sure it is ready, tap it: it should sound hollow.

Italian salsa verde

 

 

While we say that we are green with envy in English, the Italians associate positive feelings with this color, verde speranza literally meaning that green is the color of hope.

 

It makes perfect sense when you think of it: green is so vibrant, the color of all things fresh and new. Just looking out onto a green meadow or up at a canopy of leaves instantly relaxes our mind and brings peace to our soul.

 

Green in food is often associated to good health: green vegetables and fruits are rich in vitamins and fiber (think leafy greens), not to mention healthy fats (avocado, olives). Green is the color of medicinal plants and herbs used for centuries to cure all kinds of ailments.

  

 

 

There is a very popular green sauce in Italy that derives from an ancient recipe, presumably first brought to the country from the Middle East by the Romans, who then in turn proceeded to spread it to the present day France, Spain and Germany.

 

Each country (and in Italy specifically every region, town and household) has its own version. I spoke to friends from different areas in Piedmont, famous for its "bagnet vert" (which literally means little green dip) served with tongue or mixed boiled meats, and their families all use different ingredients and preparation methods. Some add hard-boiled egg yolks, some use both lemon and vinegar, others like to mix in some gherkins. Some prepare it a few days in advance for extra flavor, others make it fresh and chop the ingredients by hand. I even came across some recipes that require the base to be heated in a pan with olive oil.

 

 

Traditionally this sauce is used to accompany boiled meats, but it works great on grilled vegetables, toasted crusty farmer's bread or fish (we had it with swordfish the other night).

 

It takes five minutes to make and can be stored in the fridge for days.

 

 

 

 

Does a form of salsa verde exist where you come from? If so, how do you make it?

 

 

Ingredients

3 anchovies
50gr red or white wine vinegar
1 clove garlic
1 tbsp capers in vinegar
100gr extra virgin olive oil

80gr stale white bread, without crust
120gr flat leaf parsley
pepper

Cut the stale bread into cubes, after ridding it of the crust, and soak it in vinegar. Clean and chop the parsley using a knife, mezzaluna or food processor (although the traditionalists will be gasping just about now!) together with the garlic (it is a traditional ingredient, but I don't always use it), capers, anchovies, bread and olive oil.

 

 

Ok, I used whole baguette... it worked fine

 

  

 

Back... and back to basics. No-knead light wholewheat oatmeal bread

 

 

An Italian saying goes l'Epifania tutte le feste porta via. Indeed, in many European countries the holiday season officially ended on Monday, with the Catholic celebration of the Adoration of the Magi, also known as the Epiphany. In Italy this day is marked by a nightime visit of the befana, an old lady resembling a witch, dressed in rags and covered in soot that stuffs children's stockings with sweets or lumps of coal, according to how they behaved the previous year.

It is also traditional to take your tree down on January 6th and most kids go back to school the following day.

So with the new year now in full swing, I have been thinking of my resolutions, or rather the resolutions I have not made yet, and what I truly wish and hope for in 2014.

There is little I desire, considering I have all the things that really count (a family I love, good health, a job - albeit not one I love and that doesn't pay as much as it used to but on the other hand gives me more time with my children - a roof on my head and good friends). Sure, there are things that I would really like but they come after the list I mentioned. Who doesn't want more financial security, a home to call their own, the possibility to travel and see more of the amazing planet we live in?

If there is one resolution I think we should all make it is ackowledging what we do more and feeling less guilty about what we don't. It is easy to beat ourselves up, to look around and see what others are doing better than us, to feel like we are not enough. We always feel compelled to work harder, to run faster, like hamsters spinning endlessly on their wheels.

There will always be somebody who is doing better than we are, sure, but there is always somebody who is doing worse too. Just because someone is driving a fancier car, it doesn't mean they worry less than you do at the end of the month. Sure, some problems are bigger than others, some people are luckier than others, but we all have to face obstacles, fear and problems. Rich or poor, we all have loved ones to take care of, children, parents, relatives or friends. We all care, we all worry, we all grieve.

I will not deny that I get caught up in this vicious cycle. I need to loose weight, I should look for a new job, I should be more organized...

I compare my kids' life with my very priviledged childhood and wish I could give them more. Of course I wish I could take them to exotic places on the spur of the moment or that our five-day ski vacation could be two weeks instead, but I am also aware that my husband and I work very hard to give them a taste of everything we had growing up and that what we can't provide materially we make up for in love and presence.

But no worries, I am not getting all Christmas-movie on you and will not start telling you about how I didn't take my family on a cruise to the Carribean but made a snowman with them instead and about how we all rolled in the snow and laughed and hugged and ended the day drinking hot chocolate in front of the fire. Because at the end of the year day, we all have shit to deal with, each and every day, whoever we are and no matter how much we have or don't have.

So this year why don't we all take it a little more easy on ourselves?

Pat yourself on your back, let yourself know you are doing a great job as a friend, a mother, a daughter, a son, a dad, a husband, a wife, a companion, a sister, a brother, a boss, an employee...

I will not to beat myself up about all the things I think I should be doing better and more of. I will not make unattainable resolutions and then feel guilty or lacking because of them. I am going back to the basics, focusing on what matters, on what I have and taking my life one step at a time.

Let this be your resolution for 2014.

By all means, strive to do more, fix some targets, aim higher - because this is human and healthy to a degree - but also let the new year be a time to stop running, to take inventory of your life and let yourself know that you are doing a good job being who you are, providing what you do, caring the way you care.

Go back to the basics.

Here is a little Instagram testimony of the basics in my life: my family, my children, beautiful nature, great food and good friends to call-in the New Year.

 

Blueberry muffin bread with cream cheese filling and fig muffins

 

 

My birthday came and went last week. I would have added quietly, but have you noticed how birthdays are on steroids since the advent of the book of faces? But hey, don't misundertstand me. I am grateful for each and every birthday wish I received. Especially the kind words from that girl I think I knew in nursery school; and from that friend of a friend of a friend that I have never met but that I know goes running three times a week, 8km each time, and whose heart - according to her status - is broken; she would willingly turn back time if only she could, if only he would let her.

But back to more important things. Me.
So, I am a year older and if truth be told, I feel better about myself and my life now than I did in my early twenties. Sure, this feeling of self assuredness comes with some usually-although-not-always well concealed grey hair, a wrinkle or two (thank goodness I can still use single digits for those) and a few extra pounds, but I am not complaining.

 

 

A birthday celebration these days no longer involves two hundred of my very best friends and drunken dancing.

It means meeting up for a quick, unplanned lunch with F and enjoying the guilty pleasure of sushi sans kids, a small beer during my lunch break, almost an hour of uninterrupted talk and holding hands every now and then without squealing and gagging sounds as accompaniment.

 

 

 

 

It means picking up my daughter, who may or may not have forgotten it was my birthday until way after she sulked because I did not agree to invite half of the class over for a playdate. But it doesn't matter, because when she finally did remember, I got a beautiful drawing that  I had watched her and her friends working on hidden behind a secretive wall of backpacks in the school square the day before.

 

 

 

 

It means a simple week night dinner at home, the usual racous, messy affair but the grand finale of a birthday cake complete with candles and presents.

This year, it was exactly what I wanted and all that I needed: an impromptu daytime date with my husband and a simple dinner at home with my family. A quiet, unnoticed affair... well, if it wasn't for FB, that is.

 

 

 

 

Since I didn't bake a cake for my birthday like I have in past years, the only baking that went on over the week end was for this blueberry muffin bread and simple muffins with a fresh fig topping. 

 

 

 

  

I first was inspired to make the blueberry bread when I saw a pin on Pinterest. However, when I was getting ready to make it I realized the recipe actually did not include cream cheese, although I thought it did for some reason when I pinned it. So I started looking up recipes on the Internet and to my surprise found what I was looking for on Anecdotes and Apple Cores, a blog I have been following for quite a few years now. I made some very minor adjustments and also ended up making an extra batch of the batter minus the cream cheese filling for the fig muffins*.

 

School project and banana bread

 

We are back home from our Easter holiday, which was filled with snow, skiing, friends, laughter and more eggs (in all forms and shapes) than I care to discuss. There was also a fair share of homework to be dealt with between one ski lesson and the next, but now we just have one more project to complete for Monday and then we are done.  

 

We have been asked to make and write out a recipe and background story of our child's/family's favorite recipe, one we possibly normally make together. We then must proceed to take pictures and/or the children must draw the end result or the recipe step by step. All the recipes will be published in a book that will be sold to raise funds for our school. A great idea, we can all agree on that. And I am a food blogger, so easy peasy right?

Not exactly.



This is a random picture of a banana bread past that I made using chocolate chips.

 

My daughter's first suggestion was roast chicken, which we do all love, but handing in a paper that reads we-all-love-roast-chicken-because-roast-chicken-is-delicious-and-what-we-do-is-preheat-the-oven-season-the-chicken-and-stick-it-in-said-oven-for-xyz-minutes-and-then-take-it-out-and-devour-it seemed sort of pointless, given she does not ever help me roast the chicken in the first place. Plus, pretty much everbody has their own way to roast a chicken. I know I do.

 

Eyeing the brown and spotted bananas in our fruit bowl I counter-proposed banana bread. After all, it is a simple recipe, beloved by most kids, that I make quite often and that a child can easily help with. Also, I needed to get rid of those bananas. And some of that Easter chocolate lying around.

You may, if you knew us intimately, retort that my daughter doesn't help  me bake that either (her initial objection by the way). But to be honest, she is usually too busy drawing, coloring, cutting out or gluing something at the kitchen table while I cook, to help me with any of my cooking. Granted, she is a good eater, she thinks about food during her day more than most kids do and enjoys the finer pleasures of life like crisp chicken skin and briny olives but she never helps me in the kitchen for more than a handful of minutes. She is enthusiastic for about 60 seconds and then gets sidetracked by all the more fun things her immagination is willing her to do. She can wax lyrical about the pleasant contrast of warm cocoa and cold butter and jam on bread she has for breakfast or about caramelized onions or the smell of toasting spices and gnaw nibble on bones just like her mama, but we are not really a cooking team.

This banana bread was made with 1 cup wholewheat flour and 1/2 cup oat flour
 

Her second objection was that she didn't know what to call it in Italian. Ok kid, you have a point: pane alle banane does not sound particularly enticing. But the humble loaf makes a good background story about our heritage and how "us Americans" make it to use up those overripe bananas that families with kids seem to be plagued with. And it would certainly be unique in a book filled with roast chicken, tiramisù and various lasagna recipes. We might even start a fad. And hey, we can just call it... banana bread!

So banana bread it was. And the cool part is that half the work is already done: I just have to copy the recipe and pictures off of my blog!

Except...

...I do not have a recipe for banana bread on my blog.
 

Sure, I have written about wholewheat, oat and banana muffins, chocolate chip banana bread muffins and sour cream and olive oil banana muffins (enough with all these banana muffins already!) but there is not ONE. SINGLE. RECIPE. FOR. BANANA. BREAD. An American blogger without a recipe for banana bread... shame on me. And barely a picture I can recycle for my daughter's school project because all the banana concoctions I ever used for my blog are friggin' muffin shaped!

So here, at long last, is my recipe for banana bread, adapted from the Joy of Cooking.

Pita bread

 

 

 

To puff or not to puff? That is the question (well, maybe not if you are Hamlet, but most certainly when it comes to pita bread).

Because the truth is, when you are making pita, it doesn't always balloon as you were hoping. It didn't matter that much to me because the pita was very authentic in texture in flavor and I made it to accompany a dip, but if I had been planning to stuff it with falafel and more, I surely would have been disappointed.

So I thought for a while whether to post this recipe at all and whether I should call it pita bread or flat bread if I did. I did not, after all, succeed in getting a big pocket in all my breads. Some puffed a lot, some puffed a little, bubbles here and there, and some barely puffed at all.

 

I finally decided to share my experience for these reasons:

 

1. The pita was good, exactly what you would expect from a pita bread.

2. It was easy to make, quick and straightforward.

3. Pita stores very well.

 

I think any recipe that makes you want to make it again, that connects you with your primal instincts (flat bread is the most ancient form of bread, baked long before ovens or baking utensils existed), that is cheap, that yields a result that is so much more than the sum of its components, that makes leftovers that can last you a week and that allows you to feed your family unprocessed food is a recipe to be posted. 

 

In the meantime I have learned to use instant yeast that has not been open too long, a very, very hot oven and to try it on a stovetop next time.

 

No-knead whole wheat ciabatta... and more

You may have noticed I am not partial to food fads.

I do not bake macarons (there is an element of fear, I admit it, but there is also only so much foot talk I can stand - unless you are Dr. Seuss ).

I have never dreamed of making cake pops (yawn again).

I only really bake cupcakes for the kids and not very often at that.

I don't make Thanksgiving, Christmas or Easter treats ahead of time to post about because honestly I am just too distracted with life to get my act together on time. But hey, you never know, maybe next year.

I don't cook things involving Gs (green, Guinness) for St. Patrick's day or hearts, pink and red for Valentine's Day.

I will admit I am intrigued by little-house-in-the-prairie-like endeavours such as curing meat, making my own cheese, yogurt or  sourdough bread. But these are just more things that require planning, focus and time. And that is why I finally gave in to another food fad, the mother of all food fads actually: no knead bread.

Ever since my bread machine broke quite a while back, I have been thinking of making my own bread. Then came the never ending blog posts about no-knead bread and then came my beloved Le Creuset. I knew I would make it at some point, but I just couldn't get myself to become the twentieth food blogger that week to write about the same thing. I knew I would bore you and myself to tears. I had to let it sit a while before getting excited about it again.

Well, apparently the time had come because when I was roasting the eggplant for my last recipe on the week end, I knew I wanted to make some fabulously crusty bread to eat it with. I had the time, a whole night ahead of me. Perfect.

I used whole wheat but you can use a mix or white flour of course.

And thus, this lovely loaf was born, with really no effort at all. The next time I will have my kids make it, honestly. It is that easy. You just need time and patience.

 

Focaccia alla Genovese

We get inspiration for our meals in in a variety of ways.

1) There is the inpsiration you get from the leftovers in your fridge or your cupboard. Often the results are satisfying (if only because you are not wasting food), sometimes they are amazing, other times less-than-stellar.

2) Then there are the special recipes you bookmarked from a blog, in a cook book or a magazine. Those are the kind of recipes you go out shopping for, the kind that usually leaves behind an array of ingredients to be used up in recipe number 1).

3) Then there are those spur-of-the moment ideas and when you check you are just lucky enough to have the basic ingredients you need in the house.

A lot of my cooking falls into category 3) these days, just because I haven’t been focused enough or had the time to sit down, plan a meal and look for a fitting recipe.

 

My weekend cooking scenario looks somewhat like this:

Me sitting at my kitchen table. The kids are playing, the husband is in the shower or out buying the paper.

It is a Saturday morning and I waver between the luxurious feeling of the whole week end stretching ahead of me and knowing I have no time. An idea is forming in my mind and I pick up my iPhone and start searching. I google, I check out some blogs, I log onto Foodgawker. I get impatient while the phone loads, I mumble under my breath as I misspell that word for the third time. I hear the clock ticking in the back of my head and I know I am wasting precious time but there are a million recipes and I can’t seem to find exactly what I was looking for. I finally find a recipe I like and I read through it to make sure I have all the ingredients and the technique is clear, that there will be no surprises half way through. All clear and well, only one problem, this recipe makes much more than I want, so I decide to halve the ingredients.

As I start calculating, the phone rings. I dust off my flour-coated fingers and go answer.

When I get back to the kitchen counter 15 minutes have passed and I need to start over, weighing the ingredients again. I am cutting a piece of butter when...

"Moooooommmyyyyyyyy, I’m doooooone" from the bathroom. I go, I wipe, I come back, I wash my hands and start over.

Just as I am measuring the flour again, in walks my son.

"Acqua" he says looking up at me. As he comes closer I realized water isn’t all he needs. I pour him some water and off we go for a diaper change and teeth brushing and dressing while we are at it.

 

Back in the kitchen, after another handwash, I put in the ingredients in the stand mixer. As I start washing up, the fighting starts.

"Stoooooop! That is mine".

"No! Mio."

Thump.

Silence.

"Whaaaaaaaaaaah!"

"Moooooooooommmmmmmyyyyyyyy!!! Whaaaaaaaahhhhhh".

So long for not overmixing.

Finally eyes dried, snotty noses cleaned and peace restored, the kids are in the kitchen with me. They are drawing and I am content, forget their crap strewn all over the floor between the sink, the Kitchen Aid and the oven, which are strategically placed in different corners of the kitchen. I trip and slide over the stuff and hum along to my Ipod, because I’m in a good mood. It is Saturday after all.

Even when little fingers start poking the dough or try to grab an ingredient just as I am chopping it, I keep on humming (ok, maybe with a teeny bit of hollering in between).

Taking my time and spending a relaxing afternoon in the quiet of my kitchen just doesn’t happen, so it is no surprise to me when I forget to beat the egg whites or add in an extra yolk. I post these recipes anyway if they turn out good. Because that is my life as a mom and food blogger and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I made one of my usual mistakes in this oh-so-simple recipe because I decided to halve the ingredients and then didn’t halve them all. Ooops. So there is more yeast in this focaccia than called for. If it turned out this good with the wrong amounts, I am sure it will be fabulous if you make it right. Of course, the consequence is that it was a little on the bread-y side (and I am usually somebody who likes focaccia to be quite thin and chewy), but it turned out to be just what we needed to sop up the oil from the gambas, so I’m not complaining.

As I already insisted in my last post, when you are making something with so few ingredients, they have to be good quality, down to the salt and water.

I got the recipe from La cucina italiana.

Soft whole wheat pretzels and saudade

There is one thing that unites us all, wherever we are from.

I am not going to get all philosophical or peace-and-lovey on you (not that I don’t appreciate and share all those thoughts and feelings, I do, really). It is just that I am writing of something a tad more…well, mundane. Food.

I mean, after all this blog is called Nuts about food, not Nuts about Seneca.

So, back to food, the thing that unites us all, whether we are expats, have moved just a few hundred miles or simply just grown up is what I will call food saudade.

Don’t deny it, I know you have experienced it.

The feeling of wanting something you love badly, something that isn’t available where you live. You know, like the bagels from that corner store you used to eat in the morning before you moved to the West Coast, or NY pizza, because the pizza here just isn’t the same, probably because of the water. Or the delicious biscuits they served pretty much anywhere in restaurants back home, and while we are at it let’s face it, Yankees have no idea how to make corn bread. I have watched American expats look for a decent burger all over Europe, I mean how hard is it to make a meat patty and stick it between a bun? I have heard Italians dreaming of their nonna’s cappelletti on the other side of the ocean. In my family things get even more convoluted: Germans living in Spain, the land of Pata Negra, missing the prosciutto they used to eat in Italy; Americans living in Italy missing smoked eel from the days back in Sweden. And so on and so forth.

But never is saudade more pronounced than when what you are missing is a food from your childhood. A taste, a smell that brings you right back to a time when your knees were scraped and your toes were stubbed from running around outdoors barefoot. It jolts you back to a time when you watched grandma cooking, when being tucked into bed at night was the safest feeling in the world. Maybe that recipe was made or shared with someone special that is no longer around.

We all get that look, those glazed over eyes, when describing something we love from some other part of the world or from the past. Through blogging I have realized that a lot of those things we can’t buy can be replicated in our very own kitchen. I still jealously stash away pecans from the States and big bags of poppy seeds from Germany, because some things you just can’t make, but I have learned that there are more things you can make from scratch than things you can’t. You just have to overcome the fear and push your boundaries.

I happen to be one of those New Yorkers who misses bagels and soft pretzels. I still haven’t made my own bagels but the other day I decided to attempt soft pretzels. It turns out they are easier to make than you would imagine. Granted, it is a little time consuming and requires a few steps so don’t make them late on a Friday night like I did. They looked pretty and were really good when I took them out of the oven, but I think I didn’t let them cool off enough before storing them in an airtight container. The next morning they had gotten a bit soggy and the salt had melted. Nothing a few minutes in the oven couldn’t solve, but not great for my pictures. So even if they feel completely cool to the touch, wait longer before storing them. They keep up to 3 days.  

Recipe adapted from Joy of Cooking.

Octopus panzanella

The month of June was a pretty rainy, cool month here in Milan. It got a little frustrating after the tenth storm in a row at exactly 5.30pm, which is when I pick up the kids up from daycare and kindergarden. But hey, I'm not complaining because it was not hot and humid.

Until a couple of days ago that is.

You know the summer heat has hit in Milan when:

- you can park exactly where you want to on week ends

- the sidewalks are full of little holes left by the fashionable Milanese wearing their multicolored Tod's and Car Shoes

- you can find a table outdoors under the pergola at your favorite brunch place with only a few day's notice

- you have visions of biking home in the winter with gloves and a hat on while waiting for a light to turn green

- you start looking forward to going to work every morning because of the AC

- you look and smell like a mosquito repellent sales rep

- you dream of eating ice cold, soggy toast

Yes, I just wrote that.

No, it is not as bad as it sounds. Not if the toast has a mild garlic taste and the crunchiness is softened by the juices of ripe red tomatoes and the best quality olive oil.

In comes panzanella, the famous bread salad.

                          

This is a panzanella made my way. I am aware that panzanella is traditionally made without seafood, with the addition of raw onions and vinegar, and last but definitely not least, with stale bread, preferably the Tuscan variety without salt. But hey, I didn't have any stale bread so I used delicious whole grain bread with sunflower seeds instead. Do you blame me? And since it was a week night (i.e. I would be mingling with colleagues in the office at 7am the next morning) and the kids were eating with us, I decided to leave out the red onion and rubbed the abovementioned bread with garlic bruschetta-style. It was oh so good... And to give it the missing crunch I threw in some celery. No vinegar, which I normally use, because I wanted the delicate flavor of the octopus to really shine through. If I had had some black olives in the house (or preferably the small Taggiasca variety) I would have added those too.

Here is another panzanella recipe you might like.

Ingredients

whole grain bread

octopus

tomatoes

celery

mint

extra virgin olive oil

garlic

salt

pepper

Prepare the octopus this way. Slice the bread and toast it. Rub it with garlic and cut into approx. 1 inch squares. Cut the octopus, tomatoes and celery into bite size pieces. Chop up some fresh mint. Mix all the ingredients together, dress with plenty of extra virgin olive oil, salt and pepper. Serve cold.