In which some food is made
Mon, Dec. 5th, 2005 01:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
oyceterI may have been a wee bit overambitious yesterday. I bought about a hundred dollars worth of groceries, so my budget hates me right now, but hopefully it will even out because I think I have enough food to feed myself for three weeks. Or... so I hope.
As with most things in my life, this seemingly drastic decision was precipated by some long-term things and some short-term things (if you don't think it was drastic, you should see the kitchen. Although the rats were rather unimpressed and reacted to the clanging and banging and occasional swearing by briefly sticking their noses out of their warm nest, sniffing, and then retreating).
In other, much less pretentious, words, I watch way too much Food Network and ate![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
coffeeandink's scones ;). Basically, I keep seeing things on Good Eats that I want to eat, except there isn't a Good Eats restaurant, which makes me sad. And then I read about the cooking adventures of heres_luck, jonquil, oursin and assorted other LJ folk and get extremely intimidated.
Thencoffeeandink started cooking, basically with no experience whatsoever, which made me feel slightly less intimidated. Usually when people say they have no experience whatsoever, they actually mean that they've thrown a few things together, have a sufficiently stocked kitchen with whisks and roasting pans and etc., and bake on holidays. So when they say something is easy, I am somewhat doubtful. When coffeeandink says something is easy, I am pretty sure she means it from my level (aka "I need a what?? How the heck am I supposed to do that anyway? Huh?").
Also,coffeeandink fed me scones. They were good scones. I miss the scones (and the soup and the eggplant and the yogurt sauce too). Then I went out to afternoon tea on Saturday with fannishly and had more scones. I decided that scones were really something that I needed everyday in my life, as opposed to only during afternoon tea. Usually when I think something like this, I just go out and buy things. But Mely's cooking prowess had me convinced that I, too, could make scones! Every day! Without driving! (I think I was suffering from delusions caused by too much clotted cream and preserves)
So I have now decided to cook. It was sort of spur of the moment -- I basically decided around 6 in the afternoon on Saturday, due to prior consumption of scones loaded with clotted cream and preserves.
It's probably too early to write this up, given that I've only done it once, but... I feel so accomplished! Well, sort of.
I tried to make clotted cream first, since the instructions basically involved pouring cream into a coffee filter and letting it sit. I figured I could probably do that, and hopefully I would have clotted cream by the time I baked the scones!
Recipe:
2 cups pasteurized (not ultra-pasteurized) cream
Set a coffee filter basket, lined with a filter, in a strainer, over a bowl. Pour the cream almost to the top of the filter. Refrigerate for 2 hours. The whey will sink to the bottom passing through the filter leaving a ring of clotted cream. Scrape this down with a rubber spatula and repeat every couple of hours until the mass reaches the consistency of soft cream cheese.
Me:
Rush around Trader Joe's desperately trying to find cream. Wonder to self if heavy whipping cream is the same thing as cream, read labels and get frustrated. Give up and decide to go to another fancy supermarket, since Trader Joe's doesn't have cornmeal (for the scones and polenta). Go to Draeger's and contemplate the heavy whipping cream again. Shrug finally and get two pints, seeing as how one brand of heavy whipping cream has packaging with the following: Pasteurized (check!) Ultra-pasteurized (NO!). Figure it's close enough, and at least I've got the details right, if not the actual ingredient. Try to remember how many cups are in a pint and get another container to see if it says. Luckily, nutritional information on another one indicates that one serving is a cup, that the package has X servings, and has total mL of container. Try desperately to do math in head and then divide by number of mLs in the pint container.
Head hurts. Give up and toss two pints in basket and figure that should be enough.
Try and figure out how to get a coffee filter basket without buying an entire coffee maker. Hazily recall that Peet's had some sort of standing coffee filter that went right above a coffee thermos and figure that said get-up would be perfect for filtering and catching whey. Try desperately to recall what the Good Eats episode on clotted cream did. Briefly contemplate buying all Good Eats DVDs for easy consultation. Make slight detour from grocery buying for library sale, then drop by Starbucks with friends, figuring that if Peet's has a coffee filter thing, Starbucks should too.
Look around Starbucks in despair, as shelling out a hundred for a coffee maker is not in plan. See little permanent coffee filter things for $10. Ask self if permanent coffee filter thing with perforated metal things will work the same as paper coffee filter. Head hurts again. Give up and just buy the damn thing. Go home and try to figure out how to set up the filter so that it is suspended above a container to catch the whey, but not sitting in it so that whey soaks into filter.
Solve age-old question of how to fit a round peg in a square hole (ok, may have cheated by flipping question around) by squashing the round filter into the empty filter portion of old, rectangular Brita filter (I knew I kept it for something!). Pour cream into filter. Cream drains through rapidly.
Bang head against kitchen counter and curse self for not getting paper filters. Swear vehemently to self that clotted cream will be made, damnit (shakes fist in air dramatically, which also does not impress the rats). Run down to Starbucks again to buy paper filters. Put filter under permanent filter, pour in cream. Cream drips through sloooowly. Congratulate self.
Cream suddenly pours through rapidly. Stop in tracks in utter confusion, scratch head and wonder if this is normal. Look at filter, which is broken. Swear.
Set up gig for the third time, muttering to self. This time, put paper filters inside permanent filter (2 paper ones for good measure). Pour in cream. Cream stays in filter. Nothing drips. Decide to worry about it later and get on with cooking 20-clove garlic chicken.
Check in every so often to top off filter. Very little whey dripping through. Worry if two filters was overdoing it. Consult The Joy of Cooking, which has nothing about coffee filters. Swear at Alton Brown (I'm sorry, oh favorite cooking instructor! I plead extenuating circumstances!). Figure the damn thing can just sit there and clot on its own, sans filtering effect, according to Joy.
Eye the filter-stuck-in-Brita-pitcher after prepping 20-clove garlic chicken, wonder if will be poisoning self by leaving it on the counter. Check fridge. Eye filter-stuck-in-Brita-pitcher. Decide it will not fit and wisely decide not to tempt fate for the eighteenth time of the day by trying to jam it in. Mentally picture all food containers in the kitchen to see if they will match the circumference of the permanent filter. Decide to look for colander and prop filter in colander and stick colander over pot.
Rummage through cabinet for colander, find Tupperware instead. Decide that Tupperware is even better vehicle. Sloooowly move filter (still filled with cream) to Tupperware. Congratulate self on the perfect fit (enough room on bottom for whey-catching!). Remind self not to jump up and down or clap hands with glee, as hands are still filled with cream-topped-filter-stuck-in-Tupperware get up.
Shove contraption in fridge, close door, decide to forget about it for twelve hours.
And in the next exciting episode of Oyce's LJ, clotted cream gets eaten with scones! Stay tuned for further adventures with 20-clove garlic chicken, polenta, corn meal scones, and lemon curd.
As with most things in my life, this seemingly drastic decision was precipated by some long-term things and some short-term things (if you don't think it was drastic, you should see the kitchen. Although the rats were rather unimpressed and reacted to the clanging and banging and occasional swearing by briefly sticking their noses out of their warm nest, sniffing, and then retreating).
In other, much less pretentious, words, I watch way too much Food Network and ate
coffeeandink's scones ;). Basically, I keep seeing things on Good Eats that I want to eat, except there isn't a Good Eats restaurant, which makes me sad. And then I read about the cooking adventures of heres_luck, jonquil, oursin and assorted other LJ folk and get extremely intimidated.Then
coffeeandink started cooking, basically with no experience whatsoever, which made me feel slightly less intimidated. Usually when people say they have no experience whatsoever, they actually mean that they've thrown a few things together, have a sufficiently stocked kitchen with whisks and roasting pans and etc., and bake on holidays. So when they say something is easy, I am somewhat doubtful. When coffeeandink says something is easy, I am pretty sure she means it from my level (aka "I need a what?? How the heck am I supposed to do that anyway? Huh?").Also,
coffeeandink fed me scones. They were good scones. I miss the scones (and the soup and the eggplant and the yogurt sauce too). Then I went out to afternoon tea on Saturday with fannishly and had more scones. I decided that scones were really something that I needed everyday in my life, as opposed to only during afternoon tea. Usually when I think something like this, I just go out and buy things. But Mely's cooking prowess had me convinced that I, too, could make scones! Every day! Without driving! (I think I was suffering from delusions caused by too much clotted cream and preserves)So I have now decided to cook. It was sort of spur of the moment -- I basically decided around 6 in the afternoon on Saturday, due to prior consumption of scones loaded with clotted cream and preserves.
It's probably too early to write this up, given that I've only done it once, but... I feel so accomplished! Well, sort of.
I tried to make clotted cream first, since the instructions basically involved pouring cream into a coffee filter and letting it sit. I figured I could probably do that, and hopefully I would have clotted cream by the time I baked the scones!
Recipe:
2 cups pasteurized (not ultra-pasteurized) cream
Set a coffee filter basket, lined with a filter, in a strainer, over a bowl. Pour the cream almost to the top of the filter. Refrigerate for 2 hours. The whey will sink to the bottom passing through the filter leaving a ring of clotted cream. Scrape this down with a rubber spatula and repeat every couple of hours until the mass reaches the consistency of soft cream cheese.
Me:
Rush around Trader Joe's desperately trying to find cream. Wonder to self if heavy whipping cream is the same thing as cream, read labels and get frustrated. Give up and decide to go to another fancy supermarket, since Trader Joe's doesn't have cornmeal (for the scones and polenta). Go to Draeger's and contemplate the heavy whipping cream again. Shrug finally and get two pints, seeing as how one brand of heavy whipping cream has packaging with the following: Pasteurized (check!) Ultra-pasteurized (NO!). Figure it's close enough, and at least I've got the details right, if not the actual ingredient. Try to remember how many cups are in a pint and get another container to see if it says. Luckily, nutritional information on another one indicates that one serving is a cup, that the package has X servings, and has total mL of container. Try desperately to do math in head and then divide by number of mLs in the pint container.
Head hurts. Give up and toss two pints in basket and figure that should be enough.
Try and figure out how to get a coffee filter basket without buying an entire coffee maker. Hazily recall that Peet's had some sort of standing coffee filter that went right above a coffee thermos and figure that said get-up would be perfect for filtering and catching whey. Try desperately to recall what the Good Eats episode on clotted cream did. Briefly contemplate buying all Good Eats DVDs for easy consultation. Make slight detour from grocery buying for library sale, then drop by Starbucks with friends, figuring that if Peet's has a coffee filter thing, Starbucks should too.
Look around Starbucks in despair, as shelling out a hundred for a coffee maker is not in plan. See little permanent coffee filter things for $10. Ask self if permanent coffee filter thing with perforated metal things will work the same as paper coffee filter. Head hurts again. Give up and just buy the damn thing. Go home and try to figure out how to set up the filter so that it is suspended above a container to catch the whey, but not sitting in it so that whey soaks into filter.
Solve age-old question of how to fit a round peg in a square hole (ok, may have cheated by flipping question around) by squashing the round filter into the empty filter portion of old, rectangular Brita filter (I knew I kept it for something!). Pour cream into filter. Cream drains through rapidly.
Bang head against kitchen counter and curse self for not getting paper filters. Swear vehemently to self that clotted cream will be made, damnit (shakes fist in air dramatically, which also does not impress the rats). Run down to Starbucks again to buy paper filters. Put filter under permanent filter, pour in cream. Cream drips through sloooowly. Congratulate self.
Cream suddenly pours through rapidly. Stop in tracks in utter confusion, scratch head and wonder if this is normal. Look at filter, which is broken. Swear.
Set up gig for the third time, muttering to self. This time, put paper filters inside permanent filter (2 paper ones for good measure). Pour in cream. Cream stays in filter. Nothing drips. Decide to worry about it later and get on with cooking 20-clove garlic chicken.
Check in every so often to top off filter. Very little whey dripping through. Worry if two filters was overdoing it. Consult The Joy of Cooking, which has nothing about coffee filters. Swear at Alton Brown (I'm sorry, oh favorite cooking instructor! I plead extenuating circumstances!). Figure the damn thing can just sit there and clot on its own, sans filtering effect, according to Joy.
Eye the filter-stuck-in-Brita-pitcher after prepping 20-clove garlic chicken, wonder if will be poisoning self by leaving it on the counter. Check fridge. Eye filter-stuck-in-Brita-pitcher. Decide it will not fit and wisely decide not to tempt fate for the eighteenth time of the day by trying to jam it in. Mentally picture all food containers in the kitchen to see if they will match the circumference of the permanent filter. Decide to look for colander and prop filter in colander and stick colander over pot.
Rummage through cabinet for colander, find Tupperware instead. Decide that Tupperware is even better vehicle. Sloooowly move filter (still filled with cream) to Tupperware. Congratulate self on the perfect fit (enough room on bottom for whey-catching!). Remind self not to jump up and down or clap hands with glee, as hands are still filled with cream-topped-filter-stuck-in-Tupperware get up.
Shove contraption in fridge, close door, decide to forget about it for twelve hours.
And in the next exciting episode of Oyce's LJ, clotted cream gets eaten with scones! Stay tuned for further adventures with 20-clove garlic chicken, polenta, corn meal scones, and lemon curd.