Baking Paska Bread for Easter

What a beautiful, productive, sunny, springy day-before-Easter-Sunday. Beautiful, sunny and springy because the mid-50s warmth was a nice break from Cleveland’s blistery winter hangover. Productive because it brought several firsts for me:

  • First time hanging laundry on the new apartment clothesline outside
  • First time baking Paska Bread
  • First time zesting a lemon
  • First time proofing yeast

With the laundry started and towels already flapping in the wind, I got busy baking Easter goodies. First, proofing yeast and dissolving sugar for my first venture into Paska bread baking. With the first few ingredients rising in a warm, dark place (which happens to be in the bedroom), I get a head start on tomorrow morning’s breakfast. Out comes the trusty old pastry cloth and pin, rolling out dough for mom’s legendary cinnamon roll recipe – which I can never quite master to her standards.

Then spread and sprinkle, roll it carefully, and cut. Perfect cinnamon spirals ready for the oven.

Now, what the hell is Paska bread again?

Apparently, a light, sweet Ukrainian egg bread traditionally eaten at Easter – that my boyfriend has been requesting for weeks now. And that I’ve been putting off because I know I can’t bake it like his Baba did.

Baking my family’s traditional treats is one thing. And don’t get me wrong – I love experimenting with different ingredients and new recipes. But when you have a very specific memory of your grandma’s special bread – that I’ve never even heard of – well, I don’t want to set you up for disappointment, but…

Fortunately, thanks to Google search and a comment calling this the best quality of any Paska recipe, we have it. A recipe for Paska bread I can handle – using ingredients on hand. I cut the recipe in half because I don’t need three loaves of bread.

I’ve been wanting to bake more bread, and I don’t know what about those measly little packets of living yeast freaked me out. But I have no excuses anymore. Proofing yeast, it turns out, just means dissolving it in water. And you don’t need a special zesting tools, just a small cheese grater, to scratch the zingy top layer from a lemon. This is easy.

Paska Bread Recipe

1 (.25 oz) package active dry yeast
1/4 cup warm water (110 degrees – warm, not hot)
1/4 cup white sugar
1 1/2 cups warm milk
2 cups all-purpose flour

Dissolve the yeast in the warm water until it gets frothy. Meanwhile, dissolve the sugar in the warm milk. When the milk cools, add it to the yeast with the flour. Mix it up with a wooden spoon (remembering, from our AFB baking, that metal reacts with the yeast). Cover with plastic wrap or clean cloth, and let it rise in a dark, warm spot for a couple hours till it bubbles and doubles in size.

The whole idea of dough rising is like an exciting science experiment to me – but then again, I’m a big nerd. The yeast is feeding on the sugar and turning it to carbon dioxide and ethanol, so in essence, you’re fermenting alcohol before you bake. Which is exactly why I drink while I bake.

Use your 2 hours wisely. Then add:

3 eggs, beaten
1/4 cup white sugar
1/2 cup butter, softened
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon lemon zest

Mix well, then add 6 cups of flour, one cup at a time. Personally, I got in a little more than 5 before I started struggling, so I moved to my floured pastry sheet early and worked in more flour as I kneaded (for about 10 minutes).

Place the dough ball in a greased bowl and turn to coat. Cover it back up, and put it back to bed to rise for another couple hours.

Now, this is my favorite part – and it tells you what a violent soul I am. Punching down the dough. If the kneading wasn’t enough release for you, this nice calm pounding will get the aggression out. Back to rest, rising for another half hour.

Divide the dough in half, shape each into a rounded loaf and place on greased baking stones. Let rise another hour on the pan, rising till doubled. Beat an egg with a tablespoon of water to brush over the loaves before popping in a 350-degree oven.

The loaves will be gorgeous golden brown after, well, 20 minutes in my oven but 45-50 according to the recipe. Give or take.

By midnight, my day ended with 16 successfully dyed eggs, 12 plump cinnamon rolls ready to go for the morning, and 2 golden loaves of experimental Easter bread. Bring it on, Easter Bunny.

BBQ Chicken Pizza

Dinner Idea #1: Fettuccine Alfredo with seafood…but no butter means no alfredo sauce.
Dinner Idea #2: The boyfriend suggests BLTs. Again. Promptly vetoed with a scowl.
Dinner Idea #3: Pizza, the constant fall-back. He suggests Chicken Bacon Ranch Pizza. But no ranch means no chicken bacon ranch pizza.
Dinner Idea #3.5: Sticking with the pizza, but how ’bout BBQ Chicken Pizza? Chicken, BBQ, crust, cheese, veggies – check!
Chicken BBQ Pizza

Seafood Pizza

Seafood Pizza:
shrimp + scallops + crab + bacon + red onion + garlic + white asparagus + jalapeno hollandaise

Cracker Munster Pork

Or: Why I Use the Cookbook in My Head More Than the Cookbooks on My Shelf.

I’ve been utterly addicted to Pinterest lately – the recipes, the craft ideas, the dream wardrobe I’ll never own. It feeds into my exploding collection of curated recipes. Between the cookbooks, the shared recipe cards, the food magazine cut-outs and the weekly foodie email newsletters, I probably have enough recipes to feed a family four times a day for the next four years.

How many of these recipes have I actually tried? A few dozen, perhaps.

It’s not unlike my library, where I keep buying books upon books upon books, from classics to journalism to scripts before they hit the big screen. How many of these have I actually read? A fraction. Does that stop me from buying more and more to fill up boxes in my mom’s attic because I can’t even fit my entire library in my life? Not for a second.

It must be the collector addict in me — not even the baker or the avid reader. Sure, baking and reading will happen with all these books and cookbooks laying around, but it is the collection that drives me, not the function of my collections.

When it comes down to it and I’m in the mood to experiment in the kitchen, chances are I’m not even going by a recipe. I’m taking what I have and throwing it in the pot.

Last night, with a surplus of fancy recipes looking on in jealousy, I experimented with the recipes in my head. I ended up with what I’d like to call Cracker Munster Pork, with quinoa.

I don’t know if you can even call this a recipe, so let’s just say in five easy steps…

Cracker Munster Pork

1. Coat pork chop in 1/2 tablespoon melted butter
2. Dredge in a mixture of crumbled Wheat Thin crackers and about 1 tablespoon flour.
3. Quickly fry in skillet for a few minutes on each side, enough to create a crust.
4. Then transfer to the oven and continue baking at 350 degrees for about 10 minutes.
5. Add slices of munster cheese on top and bake another 5 minutes until cheese melts.

Who needs fancy recipes when you can make up a hodgepodge dish that’s delicious?

Valentine’s Dinner and Continued Surprises

I had no plans for Valentine’s this year, which is the only reasonable way to spend the day. We celebrated on V-eve with his preparation of crab legs and asparagus with hollandaise sauce, and my contribution of quinoa with raspberry vinaigrette. Just, wow.

Quinoa Recipe: (coming soon)
And, of course, starters of salad, accompanied by Perrier and Champagne, all set off with a red tablecloth — sexy. Then, we watched (I should say, he let me watch) the new episode of AMC’s Walking Dead. How’s that for romance?
It was a delightful Valentine’s, and it’s all I expected.
On Valentine’s Day, around lunch time, one of the girls at work came back to my cube and told me that my boyfriend was out in the lobby. My coworkers said they’d never seen me move so fast and run out the door. There he was, with a bouquet of a dozen red roses.

Not just flowers, but a vase to put them in, too.

So Valentine’s Day ended up not just a fancy crab leg dinner, but also a surprise in-person delivery of a bunch of gorgeous roses. And not even just that, but still another surprise the next day:
Chocolate covered (and drizzled) strawberries from Pickwick & Frolic.

Pizza Night Every Night

When you were little, you were lucky to have pizza night once a week. When you’re in college, it’s nothing strange to have pizza night every night.

This week I struck a fine balance with pizza night every other night, twice so far. And I struck that balance even finer for going out one night and staying in the other.
Tuesday we went out to Dewey’s Pizza in Lakewood. And we didn’t just go out — we went all out. Wine? Of course. We’ll take the Red Rock winemaker’s blend, the smoother of the two we tasted.
Salads? Sure. I went for the Candied Walnut and Grape, served up with Gorgonzola and citrus basil vinaigrette. When the greens arrived, we realized $5 was well-paid for a heaping side salad the size of a full one on most menus.
And then the ‘za — the toughest decision of the night. I had trouble ruling out any of the specials, actually. Like the Green Lantern with mushrooms, goat cheese, pesto and artichoke, or Ryan’s Inferno with buffalo chicken, red onion, ranch and celery. The decision eventually and unanimously narrowed to one: the Billy Goat. On a fresh, soft crust, you get: goat cheese, sun-dried tomatoes, green peppers and mushrooms, plus garlic and the mozz. Delicious, and soon gone.
Pizza sounded good again by Thursday, and we had the time and gumption to do it ourselves. Thanks to a leftover packet of Chef Boyardee dough (just add water!), a convenient squeeze bottle of sauce (which, we commented, should have been invented decades ago), and a fridge-full of veggies (2 heaping cups, to be precise), we mastered it.
You’re looking at red onion, black olive, fresh garlic, green pepper, pepperoncinis, fire-roasted diced tomatoes (which is my new favorite thing) and a variety of cheeses. All it’s missing is mushrooms, but you should be jealous anyway because it was delicious. And you wish you could have pizza night every night again, too.

Bacon-Wrapped Chicken

What’s better than a big, juicy slab of meat? Meat wrapped in more meat, that’s what.

This recipe is ridiculously simple, and it works double-time to quell a hunger twice as big as the effort it requires. So, in five easy steps:

1. Flatten a chicken breast.

2. Spread with cream cheese, top with onions. (The original recipe called for sweet onions. I had red, so that’s what I used, and topped it off with some fresh cilantro.)

3. Meanwhile, fry bacon but remove from heat before it starts to crisp.

4. Roll up chicken and wrap bacon around it, securing with toothpicks.

* Extra step: I thinly sliced a small potato, sprinkling with olive oil, salt, pepper and the remaining onions. If you slice it too thick, they won’t bake as fast as the chicken.

5. Bake at 350 for 35 minutes. My oven runs hot, so for me it was more like 325 degrees for 25 minutes.

Here’s what it looks like headed into the oven — pretty fancy already:

And the finished dish, with some sour cream and fresh parsley added to the potatoes:

 

The BLT Gains a Few Letters

I could have caved for lunch today and gone with the gang to A&J’s Diner for a burger. Instead, I headed home to my own kitchen and concocted something with a few more colors and few less calories. Behold, the BLT’s dressed-up cousin, the BACTCPM:

That’s bacon, avocado, cheese, tomato, cilantro, parsley and mayo on wheat toast. And it was delicious — which just goes to show that recipes are to cooking as road signs are to driving. They’re just suggestions.

BLT — says who? First of all, you need a vowel in there for it to make any sense. That bare-boned, three-ingredient acronym is just begging for some Avocado. I kicked the L out entirely because I didn’t have any. No lettuce? No worries; find something else green and throw it on. Enter cilantro and parsley, which I keep fresh on hand to satisfy my boyfriend’s every tea-brewing need.

The next time we made these sandwiches, we swapped out the M for an H, spreading on a healthier alternative of hummus in place of mayo. That makes this sandwich a vegetarian’s dream — because, let’s face it, I know you’re not salivating over fruit; you’re dreaming about the temptations of bacon on top of your daily greens.

Margherita Pizza

Looks yummy, doesn’t it? Well, it was – and even more so because I had no part in the making of this pizza, other than grilling the chicken and being at the grocery store while the other ingredients were purchased. Sure, there’s a certain satisfaction that comes from making your own meals; but the only thing better is when someone makes it for you.
Believe me, the hype around this dish had been building up for months as my boyfriend kept telling me about his specialty margherita pizza. Finally, last Sunday – appropriately, after we saw “30 Minutes Less” about a pizza delivery guy who gets kidnapped, strapped to a bomb and forced to rob a bank (true story, although the real thing wasn’t as funny as Danny McBride and Nick Swardson in monkey suits) – we decided to make our own. Pizza, that is, not a plot to rob a bank.
I was feeling guilty for being away from my book writing for the duration of the movie, so he took over in the kitchen while I got back to work on the laptop. He even stirred up the cupcakes I ambitiously agreed to bring into work for birthdays the next day – but he told me not to tell anyone that because he wants to maintain his reputation as a cook, not a baker.
As long as he keeps making me pizzas, he can call himself whatever he wants.

Ginger-Sherry Pork Chops & Cheddar Rhubarb Biscuits

Last night on the phone with my mom, I had to explain why I own a cookbook called “The One-Armed Cook.” It’s designed as a cookbooks for new mothers — hence, baby in one arm and one left for cooking — or mothers in general, with quick recipes they can easily prepare and spend more time with the fam. Now, I’m not a mother, and I don’t have anyone gathered around my dinner table. But quick? easy? I’m all about it. And it was $1 at Half Price Books. And it’s spiral bound, which is a must for cookbooks and anyone who’s ever released an otherwise bound book is inefficient.

The first recipe I tried was for Ginger-Sherry Lamb Chops. OK, so “cheap” obviously wasn’t included in the “quick and easy” tagline, because the only lamb I’ve ever purchased are the lamb burgers at the Elkhart County 4-H Fair. I can afford pork loins though, so I adapted it and soaked them in this marinade overnight: (their measurements are for 4 lamb chops. As usual, I eye-balled it)

pork chop pork recipe fresh domestic  ginger recipes fresh domestic

Ginger-Sherry Pork Chops
1/4 cup soy sauce
1/4 cup dry sherry
1 tsp chopped garlic (I used Pampered Chef’s Garlic Garlic)
1 tsp Dijon mustard
1 tsp ground ginger (I used a few shakes of ground ginger and then chopped up these strange crystalized ginger slices my sister bought at an Amish grocery story in Shipshewana, Ind. Remember those gummi orange and lime slices we used to eat when we were little? They remind me of that, because they’re coated in sugar. We decided that they’re kind of horrible to eat plain because the ginger flavor is so strong, but they’re excellent prepared in a dish.)

So it sat in my fridge all night while I laid awake in bed until 2 a.m. watching my newest obsession, “Pawn Stars,” and the little crystalized gingers soaked up sherry – mmm. When I got home from work, I threw the pork on the Foreman and cooked the marinade (the one-armed ladies suggest bringing it to a boil over medium-high heat then simmering on low for 5 minutes. Yeah, something like that.)

Now, I’m not a huge pork fan. It’s only in my freezer now because Giant Eagle had a mix-n-match BOGOF with meat, so I stocked up on every animal I could find. But wow. These were delicious. It’s a very fancy but simple marinade/sauce. Especially with the chunks of ginger on top (and I served it all over leftover rice), it was a fancy little dish.

But even better, I had half a roll of Pillsbury seamless dough (like crescent rolls without the crescents) I needed to use up, so I greased a couple muffin tins and layered a circle of dough, a slice of cheddar, and another slice of dough and baked it at 350 until brown. They were like little cheese-filled biscuits. Pretty good, I thought, but could be better. Yesterday, a coworker brought in several jars of rhubarb jam her mother-in-law made, so I slathered some on top of a roll. I don’t know if cheddar and rhubarb go together. Maybe you’re gagging at the thought, and would do more than gag at the taste. I don’t know. But I thought it was freakin’ delicious. And really, how fancy does “cheddar rhubarb biscuit” sound?

Now time for the All-Star game. So I guess hotdogs and peanuts would have been more appropriate.