Sunday Feast № 21 | Roasted Cornish Hens with Lemon, Rosemary, Garlic, and Balsamic

Photo by Aurora Samar

Last time was Chinese. "We should do it again." "What should it be this time?" "Greek! We can do lots of salads. Stuffed peppers." "OK, what about a meat dish? Lamb?" That is roughly how it went. Fast forward. "We can do Greek, but maybe mix in Italian ..." "Mediterranean like? Well, close to." "Then I make tiramisu." "Love Tiramisu!" "Then I'll think if it is still lamb or something else." In the end, it was close to Italian. And sorry, but no, this is not tiramisu recipe blog. I have professionals for that. My mind drifted to chicken. And rosemary. The Gooey Shell    Having found a recipe for roasted chicken with rosemary in one of my trusty books, I went shopping for an approximately 3 lb/1.5 kg bird. Maybe it was laziness, but with little time to scour supermarkets within my immediate walking distance let alone any further a field, I settled for the closest and met with monster chickens. At around 6 lbs each! Whoa mama! Yes, each could feed a small army but roasting a BIG BIRD is a different game I might reserve for turkey. Luckily, the supermarket had lots of frozen Cornish hens, and those I was willing to deal with. Six of them. Yes, yes, also can feed a small army, but smaller birds mean quicker roast and greater likelihood of being cooked throughout without drying out. So I set to task finding required roasting temperature and time, as well as possible combinations of flavorings for the roast. One criteria for the latter: rosemary must be included.    The result was a lovely brood of hens for carnivores (one bird per person in one sitting) and lesser carnivores (half a bird per person in one sitting with the other half for next days). Very satiating. Mind you there were salads - "Mum" made sure, grilled octopus - we had two that not just love but LOVE octopuses (queue up Octopussy snickering and general nudge nudge wink wink behavior), there was bread, foccacia, polenta, bruschetta, tiramisu of course, and macarons with smoked salmon filling (not my recipe or mine to disclose, but a fine product, and like I said, I have professionals for that), and more. Macarons?! Well, France does boarder the Mediterranean Sea.

Sunday Feast № 14 | Cherry Poppy Seed Cake, or how I survived baking after not paying attention to loaf pan size

While and after reading "The Sweet Life in Paris" by David Lebovitz, I started frequenting his blog, where recently he posted his adaptation of the cherry poppy seed cake from newly released "Sweeter Off the Vine" by Yossy Arefi.    Still in the throws of "I can do baking" and having acquired a loaf pan, I had a go. It looked very easy compared to the blind bake followed by baking with the filling that the lemon tart required. No sifting. No kneading. No whisking, per say. Just dry ingredients and wet ingredients eventually combined and poured into a loaf pan en masse. Even the streusel topping looked easy. The fact that he clearly and up front calls for a 9 in/23 cm loaf pan I didn't note.    You see, I still remembered reading his loaf recipes from "The Sweet Life in Paris" and noting that all of them required an 8 in/20 cm pan. An autopilot, especially in a non-baker, is a dubious thing. No biggie you would think, right? Seeing mine filled not far off the brim with the batter and the streusel and ending with streusel surplus gave me a pause, but then I ushered it all into the preheated oven. I would like to say that me putting a baking tray underneath the pan was a learned trick to prevent possible spillage onto the over floor. Alas, no. It was a matter of convenience and prevention: easy sliding of the goodies from and to the middle oven rack, while avoiding the inevitable, in my case, singes of my hands, typically below the thumb, from the top oven rack. You'd think I'd invest in some oven mitts instead of making do with folded over dish cloths. Nonsense! But I digress. The advantage of an oven door with a glass panel and an inside light is that you can watch like a hawk the proceedings within without opening the door and tempting fate with temperature drops.    And there it was.

Sunday Feast № 13 | Tarte au Citron: The "ooh la la" of Lemon Tart

I guess I could wax poetic about spring and sunshine and how lemons are yellow like the sun in child's drawing and awaken with their tangy freshness and tartness. All beautiful and true, but not quite were my head was at.    I have not made a desert in eons, and especially one that requires some layering where one layer is the dough, pastry dough. Dough can taste doughy if mishandled, and with mounts of sugar to boot, it's a disaster. "But lemons might help the "lemon"! Dress up the disaster!" Alas, that was just wishful thinking. Yes, I've made some baking mistakes. The best way to address this situation was head on, and try again, sweetly and lemon-y.    At $1 for 10 lemons, and more sugar types than my kitchen has seen not just in years but ever, the weekend called for a lemon tart with sweet pastry made from scratch. Reminiscent of pasta making, the flour well contained what became effectively a goop-y mess of butter, sugar, and eggs, all stuck to my fingers. Flour saved my perturbed sanity as the mix finally coalesced into a ball of smooth dough ready for chilling after I chilled myself and summoned patience. Exhale. Rolling it out - easy. Lining a tart tin with it - no problem. Shell baking - fingers crossed and exhale regardless. Mixing and pouring the filling - good to go. Final bake and cooling - not fast enough.   It was worth it. The recipe is from “The Food of France: A Journey for Food Lovers”. I stuck to one set of measurement units (grams and milliliters). It is baking after all where precision serves a novice or a scaredy-cat. Leftover pastry or filling? No worries! There are solutions for that. Now watch me go pro! OK OK. Not quite that ready.

Fun with the leftovers Filling Preheat the oven to 180°C/355°F. Using small oven proof cups or ramekins, spoon in the filling to fill each. Place the cups or ramekins in a baking dish and pour enough close to boiling or boiling water into the dish to come halfway up to the sides of the cup or ramekin. Cook for 25 min or until set. Remove from the oven and baking dish, cool completely and then refrigerate for couple of hours. Sweet pastry Preheat the oven to 190°C/375°F. Roll out the pastry on a lightly floured surface to thickness similar to that when rolled out for the tart. Cut out shapes - I cut 4.5 cm/~2 in circles, rolled the remains into a ball and rolled out again, cut circles and repeated as often as needed till all the pastry was used. Place shapes on a floured baking tray - they can be relatively close to each other but not touching - and bake for ~15 min or till golden. Remove and cool on a rack.

Sunday Feast № 11 | Rosemary Chicken and Beans

Once upon a time I cooked the old fashioned roasted chicken Provençal, a very good dish with herbes de Provence, lemon, garlic, dry vermouth, and garnished with fresh thyme sprigs, among the usual suspects including the said chicken - bone-in, skin-on thighs. Tasty as it was, dredging those thighs in flour before placing them in oiled roasting pan I could've done with out. Then I stumbled upon a riff on the very dish, sans flour dredging, at Petite Kitchen blog. Then I played with that.    In the recipe below, compared to the Petite Kitchen one, I halved the amount of chicken, and doubled the amount of beans and used two varieties of beans. Yes, I swapped white wine with sherry or vermouth, depending which I had on hand, and also tried the chicken with or without skin, all on separate occasions. And I eye-balled the garlic. The Petite Kitchen called for one bulb, but my bulbs seemed enormous enough that I opted for 8-10 cloves instead. This is a superbly easy, self contained, and forgiving dish you can make your own.