A Year of Tangled Blogging

First Blogoversary Macaroon

Already?

Times flies when you're having fun and my first year of blogging has definitely been fun - not to mention hectic, exhilarating, frustrating, enlightening, maddening and exciting. I imagined that when the anniversary date arrived, I'd break out the balloons, toss some confetti and strike up the mariachi band. Celebration was in order and I envisioned a special post featuring an incredible edible to mark the occasion, or perhaps even a giveaway . . .

But Tangled is the name and tangled is the brain. In an alternate reality, I'm Incredi-Blogger, writing a post every other day while completing my memoirs (Part I, natch), learning several new languages and mastering cheese-making, beer-brewing and all manner of artisanal cookery. But in real reality, my life story can be told in four tweets, I write in the only other language I know (Ye Olde Terme Paper English) and the closest I've come to artisanal cooking is making pancake batter from scratch. It's no surprise, then, that The Big Day (October 23) passed with nary a single shred of confetti or a solitary note of mariachi music to commemorate the 365 days since my first blogospheric disturbance.

I simply forgot.

So much for the special milestone. But as my overworked patron Saint Expeditus might say, "Get off your lazy tuchus and get to work already!" Although it has come and gone, reaching this point really was a thrill for me, so I eked out a moment to make a sweet treat in celebration and gratitude for an awesome year. However, as many of you know by now, I don't just eat, I ruminate . . . and every dish in this blog is well-chewed until I can taste its Deeper Meaning.

Sometimes I Feel Like a (Coco)Nut

To mark the belated event, I went straight to a recipe from my cousin Ara in the Philippines. We met for the very first time last December when Mr. Noodle and I visited my mother's home province of Marinduque. During our all-too-brief day trip, we enjoyed wonderful Marinduqueno-style Filipino food such as adobong manok sa gata (chicken adobo in coconut milk) and kare-kare* [kah-REH kah-REH], a spicy version of dinuguan, or blood stew. Seeing my rapturous enjoyment of the native desserts on hand, Ara promised to send recipes for some favorite sweets, just as her mother-in-law makes them.

*Kare-kare is also the name of a better-known stew of oxtail and vegetables in a peanut sauce.

The first were macaroons - Filipino macaroons, to be precise. What's the difference? The more familiar confection is made with shredded coconut, egg whites and sugar, whereas à la Pinay incorporates whole eggs, sweetened condensed milk and flour. The result is a dense, chewy baked good similar in consistency to a fudgy brownie and with a super-sweetened coconut flavor.

Although it's been a while since my last taste of Filipino macaroons, I remembered enough to have certain expectations as the first batch went into the oven; what came out, however, were quite unexpected. Rather than the flat-topped treat of memory, these had rounded domes like cupcakes and were definitely more cake-y than fudgy. But they formed a beautiful caramelized crust above a moist and subtly sweet, coconutty interior. I was not disappointed in the least, especially when I realized that they were perfect for this post in another way.

Just like these macaroons, my blog began with certain expectations about what I would write or who might read it. I didn't plan on including photos and recipes, or giving accounts of my own cooking, but they are now important elements. I thought only my family would read it (under duress) but instead, visitors found their way to this site, came back for more and have since become friends. Just like these coconut pastries, Tangled Noodle cooked up in ways and qualities that were certainly different, but no less satisfying, than originally anticipated.

In the past year, I've learned so much from writing my blog and reading others': that cooking without a recipe isn't really scary, flash photography is the best way to ruin a dish and blogging should always be a joy, not a chore. More importantly, I've made many new and dear friends among you and it is your encouragement, support and friendship that inspire me to continue. From the bottom of my heart - thank you!

Now, let's see what another year will bring . . .

[Update 10/31/09: I am extremely embarrassed - I had attributed the following recipe to Tita Fuen, Ara's mom, when it actually came from her mother-in-law. My apologies to that dear lady for not acknowledging her generosity in sharing a family recipe! Please note that double asterisks (**) signify where I've made the appropriate changes to the text.]

Macaroons à la Filipina**
(adapted from a recipe, courtesy of cousin Ara)

Have you ever noticed that when someone shares a recipe, there's always an ingredient or direction missing? It's not deliberate - often, the person is so familiar with cooking the dish that it's difficult to write out what are automatic actions. In the macaroon recipe that Ara sent, some ingredients listed were never mentioned again; I can picture Ara's mother-in-law** missing a few steps because she's not actually making them as she dictates. Furthermore, the original yield was triple what I made here - no matter how delicious, Mr. Noodle and I can eat only so many!

Cupcake-ish Macaroon

In the past, when I dared not deviate from the written record, this recipe might have been set aside. But a year of blogging and blog-reading have nurtured my cooking self-confidence, and I managed to make it work. I adjusted measurements and guessed where those orphan ingredients might be added. While my adaptations are by no means perfect, they represent my continued progress from recipe-slave to (dare I say it?) intuitive cook. I hope you'll enjoy these macaroons as much as we did!

Yield: 1 dozen

Ingredients

1 2/3 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 tsp salt
heaping 1/4 tsp baking powder
1/2 cup butter, softened
1/2 cup dark brown sugar
1 Tbsp water
2 eggs
1/2 can (or approx 4 oz) sweetened condensed milk
3/4 tsp lemon extract
3 1/3 cups shredded coconut

To make:

Preheat oven to 350°F and line a muffin pan with paper cups.

1.  Sift flour, salt and baking powder, then set aside;
2.  Place brown sugar and water in a small sauce pan and heat until sugar dissolves. Remove from heat;
3.  Cream butter, then add dissolved sugar and mix well;
4.  Add eggs, condensed milk and lemon extract and beat until well mixed;
5.  Add flour mixture and mix until just blended;
6.  Add coconut and stir by hand until well mixed;
7.  Spoon into muffin cups, about 3/4 full - the macaroons will rise like cupcakes;
8.  Bake at 350°F for 20 to 30 minutes, or until tops are golden.

Basta masarap! (Simply delicious!)

I have another reason to celebrate this past October 23rd: on that day, Palidor of Crazy Asian Gal decided to share her "I Love Reading Your Blog!" award, one of six(!) she recently received from fellow bloggers. If you're not familiar with her site, please visit Palidor and see for yourself that the only thing crazy about this gal is crazy-good food!

In fact (and by total coincidence - I swear), she posted a recipe a few weeks ago for Coconut Muffins, which uses coconut flour rather than shredded coconut meat. And if that's not enough coco-nuttiness for you, then please check out these delicious recipes as well:

From Mark of No Special Effects: a closer version of Filipino-style Coconut Macaroons.
From Divina of Sense & Serendipity: her Coconut Macaroon Tart is the featured guest post at Just Making Noise, a blog written by Ice Cream Social winner Mare!

Food by Friends: Give Recipe

Börek with Squash Leaves

"What you give away, you keep."

--Turkish proverb

There is no better way to describe the essence of the wonderful Turkish food blog, Give Recipe. Blogger Zerrin uses her keen understanding of the social role of food to give readers profound insights into her country, culture and cuisine while sharing amazing traditions and flavors that are less familiar to some of us but deserve to be celebrated by all.

I can't recall exactly when I began reading Zerrin's posts but I do remember the immediate sense of recognition and camaraderie - as if I were re-connecting with a dear friend from long ago rather than simply meeting a new one. Friendship through sharing is a key theme in Give Recipe, where each post offers not only delicious recipes and lovely photography, but also illuminating lessons on Turkish social customs and the foods that are associated with them. In her blog bio, Zerrin notes that some people hold back from proffering their full experiences in cooking, as if they were in a competition. But as a teacher, she fully embraces the opportunity to share her knowledge, believing that not giving entirely of one's gifts is a loss for everyone:

"I feel happy when I cook something [for] my family and friends. It's a pleasure [for] me to watch people with their smiles on their faces while eating . . . I feel that you can multiply your happiness by sharing."

(from Zerrin's 'About Me' page)

Her recipes for traditional dishes, many from cherished family sources, engage the appetite with their sensory qualities, but it's their symbolic meanings that make them at once unique and universal. Zerrin's posts often incorporate essays on the social customs that underpin Turkish commensality and demonstrate how cooking and eating are acts of support, love and reciprocity. Among my personal favorites are the wonderful wedding dishes, Yüksük Çorbasi (Thimble Soup), delicate meat-filled dumplings in a savory broth topped with yogurt; and Keşkek, slow-cooked mashed wheat served with tender lamb. As delicious as they are, the dishes are made more special by descriptions of the natural cooperation between community and family members in creating these celebratory meals. Though the details may vary among different cultures, I think we can all recognize in Zerrin's accounts how our own social and familial bonds are strengthened across a festive table.

Above all, Give Recipe is about cooking and eating with a light heart. Throughout her blog, Zerrin features whimsical illustrations made by her 'second mom' (her mother-in-law), which she pairs with original stories: there is 'Mom and Child Leeks', about learning acceptance, and 'The Perfect Couple', about inter-vegetable love. These charming drawings and tales are like gems scattered throughout her site - reading through them is like going on a treasure hunt!

Zerrin gives her all with Give Recipe, holding nothing back about her pride for her country and culture, her love of family and friends, and her talents for cooking and teaching. What she gives, she keeps and then shares again, until we are all enriched by her gifts.

Borek with Squash Leaves
(adapted from a recipe by Zerrin)

For Zerrin's original recipe, Vegetable Börek, please click here.

I felt that one particular post in Give Recipe really exemplified how food nurtures not only the individual body but also the community spirit. Zerrin wrote of an impromptu neighborhood gathering to bid farewell to one family's son on his way to military duty. With music, dancing, food and drink, it was a festive mood for what could be considered a private event in other cultures. She explains that the celebration is a long-standing tradition that turns a somber moment into one of good cheer and instills in the young man a sense of self-confidence and assurances of his family's and community's support. For her part in that support, Zerrin prepared a Sebzeli Börek (Vegetable Börek) to serve at the party.

Composed of layers of sautéed vegetables and an egg-and-yogurt sauce between sheets of phyllo, sebzeli börek may bring to mind Greek spanakopita (spinach and feta cheese pie) but börek also refers to several kinds of phyllo-encased pastries in Turkish cuisine that vary in fillings and cooking method. Among Zerrin's many recipes are baked versions filled with chard, potato or stinging nettles, and another fried in the shape of cigarettes (Sigara Boregi).

A few months ago at the Minneapolis Farmers' Market, I impulsively purchased a bunch of squash leaves without knowing how to use them. Thanks to the all-knowing Google search engine, I found that they closely resemble tenerumi, the leaves of the zucchini-like cucuzza (an Italian summer squash), but their fuzzy, hairy stalks also made me think of prickly nettles - like the ones Zerrin used for her Börek with Stinging Nettle Herb. Fortunately, my greens did not require protective gloves to prepare, but as intrigued I was with that recipe, I was even more taken by her vegetable börek in the aforementioned post. In place of leek, potato and carrots in Zerrin's original recipe, I used the squash leaves, which were, after sautéing, similar in texture to spinach and whose stems imparted a subtly sweet flavor much like tender asparagus.

Serves 4-6

Ingredients

4 cups squash leaves, chopped and stems cut into 1" pieces
1 large onion, diced
5 Tbsps olive oil, divided
2-3 Tbsps red wine vinegar
Salt to taste
1 cup parmesan cheese, grated
1 egg
1/2 cup yogurt
1 pkg prepared phyllo dough

To make:

Preheat oven to 400° F. In the meantime, thaw out phyllo dough according to package directions.

1. Rinse chopped squash leaves but do not dry completely. In a large sauté pan, heat 2 Tbsps olive oil and cook onions until soft;
2. Add squash leaves and sauté just until leaves begin to wilt, then add red wine vinegar and salt to taste. Cook until leaves wilt and stem pieces are tender. Remove from heat and set aside;
3. Mix egg, 3 Tbsps olive oil and yogurt, and mix well.
4. In a square baking pan or glass dish, place one layer* (3-5 sheets) of phyllo on the bottom and cover with 1/3 of egg-yogurt mixture.
5. Place a second layer of phyllo over first, then cover with 1/2 of sautéed squash leaves followed by 1/2 cup of parmesan cheese;
6. Place a third layer of phyllo over that and spread 1/3 of the egg-yogurt mixture;
7. Place a fourth layer of phyllo over previous, covering with remaining sautéed squash leaves and 1/2 cup of parmesan cheese;
8. Place a final layer of phyllo over the last and spread the remaining 1/3 of egg-yogurt mixture;
9. With a sharp knife, carefully cut the layers in squares or triangles before placing in the oven, to ensure even cooking throughout the dish;
10. Bake in oven for approximately 30 minutes**, until phyllo is golden. When done, remove from heat and let cool for just a few minutes before cutting and serving.

* I was not sure if the phyllo dough I used is anything like what Zerrin uses in Turkey in terms of texture or thickness. The number of individual phyllo sheets for each layer was approximate and can be adjusted depending on preference.
** The cooking time in the original recipe called for 50 minutes of baking; my börek started to turn a nice golden color well before this point and was done by 30 minutes. Again, this may be due to the layers of phyllo I used, which may have been thinner than what Zerrin uses and therefore cooked faster. Watch your dish as it bakes!

Afiyet olsun! (Enjoy your meal!)

Full Circles: Aunt Else's Æbleskiver

Æbleskiver (Danish Ball Pancakes)

"If I'm going to have a business, I want to use and highlight . . . hi, sweetheart . . . what we have here and I think that's important."

There's little doubt as to what Chad Gillard considers important. I had reached the co-owner of Aunt Else's Æbleskiver, a fledgling Minneapolis specialty-food company, on his way home from work and as we discussed the firm's commitment to using local sources, a child's faint yet unmistakably excited shout came over the line. Without missing a beat, Chad neatly slipped the little endearment in the middle of his sentence - after all, answering a blogger's questions isn't nearly as important as greeting your little girl when she welcomes you home.

Chad Gillard, President of Aunt Else's Æbleskiver
 and Æbleskiver Daddy
This small snippet is one moment in the life of Æbleskiver Daddy, as Chad calls his blog - an apt name for someone who has deftly folded his family life and an entrepreneurial endeavor into a generations-old recipe for a Danish pastry with a singular name and universal appeal.

You Say 'Skiver, I Say 'Skwyr

A-bell-ski . . . ah-bless-kiv . . . eh-bluh . . . Thank goodness æbleskiver are a lot easier to eat than they are to pronounce. "Depending on where you're from in Denmark, [EB-el-ski-ver] is a perfectly fine pronunciation. We say [EB-el-sku-wyr]," explained Chad. "People say them both ways - you can't go wrong."

Indeed, it's hard to go wrong with a food that is (name notwithstanding) simplicity itself: a batter of flour, eggs, buttermilk, and a few other ingredients, is poured into deep, circular wells of a specially-shaped pan to make what are basically pancake balls, which are then topped with powdered sugar, jams or syrup. But simplicity doesn't necessarily mean simple; when Chad first heard about æbleskiver and how they were made, he was a bit perplexed. "The way [it was described to me], I was like, 'I don't get it'," he recalled with a laugh. "I had never heard of it before and I couldn't imagine how it was going to work."

Making 'skivers at the Mill City Farmers' Market

Puzzlement turned into total fascination, however, the moment he saw it done. The introduction came from close friend and co-worker Sarah Engwall, who wanted to make for the Gillard kids a special Danish treat that she had enjoyed as a child. "She came over and the kids loved them, and as much as they loved them, I loved how they were made. I let her make one pan and I shoved her out of the way of the stove and have been making them ever since."

[Watch as Chad demonstrates proper æbleskiver technique!]

As it turned out, Chad had been mulling ideas for a food booth at the Minnesota State Fair and told Sarah that æbleskiver would be perfect. "She just kind of laughed and said, 'Well, my mom and aunt have always thought it would be fun to get into the State Fair'," he said. Soon after, Sarah introduced him to her mother, Linda Engwall, and her aunt, Lisa Timek, and together they created Aunt Else's Æbleskiver in 2008.

Armed with a recipe from Linda and Lisa's aunt Else Andersen Jacobsen and a couple of æbleskiver-pande (pans) handed down through the women's family, Chad and his co-owners started making the pastries at local festivals and fairs. After receiving enthusiastic responses to the scrumptious little spheres, they decided to package the mix and sell the pans as well. Just over a year later, Aunt Else's Æbleskiver has become a fixture at the Mill City Farmer's Market, had its products demonstrated at the Minnesota State Fair, and now offers through their website Aunt Else's recipe mix and a local foundry-cast pan of their own design. That's quite a list of accomplishments since Sarah first turned out those little pancake puffs for the Gillard family, but Chad and his partners are keeping the pace steady and noted, "We've been figuring it out as things unfold, trying to be cautious because of the [economy] and taking things a step at a time."

Carrying on Aunt Else's legacy - Lisa, Amanda and Sarah

Whereas the story of Aunt Else's Æbleskiver roots is as solid as the cast-iron pans handed down through generations of a Danish-Minnesotan family, those regarding the origins of æbleskiver in Denmark are as light and fluffy as the pastries themselves.

Viking Tales or Just a 'Krok'?

One apocryphal tale put forth by Arne Hansen, former owner of Solvang Restaurant ('Home of Arne's Famous Æbleskiver') in Solvang, CA, surmised that weary Vikings looking for sustenance after a hard day of marauding used their battered shields to cook up some, er, batter. Yet another account comes from writer Marlene Parrish, who noted the strong resemblance between æbleskiver and a favorite Thai street snack:

"Across the world in Thailand, the identical pan is used in markets to make a grab-and-go savory breakfast food called kanom krok . . . So how do you suppose both Denmark and Thailand lay claim to the skillet-pan?"

(read the full article, The Pan Where East Meets West) 

(Kanom krok, photo from Enjoy Thai Food)

Parrish theorized that a 17th-century Danish missionary brought home a krok pan and, in an attempt to re-create the morsels without rice flour and coconut milk, came up with a wheat flour and buttermilk recipe resulting in æbleskiver. In fact, doppelgängers can be found throughout the global culinary scene, ranging from the aforementioned Thai kanom krok to Japanese octopus-filled takoyaki, Indian lentil-based ponganalu and paniyaram,  and Dutch poffertjes, which were supposedly used by an abbey as a Communion host and thereafter called 'little friars' (possibly explaining the æbleskiver-pande's other name - 'monk's pan'). [sources: Wikipedia, absoluteastronomy.com]

Whatever their provenance, these particular pan-baked puffs have been a special occasion staple since the 1600s in Denmark, where they are traditionally served during Christmas and Easter holidays. Holding a dear place in the hearts (and appetites) of Danes all over the world, the pancake balls are Danish to the core - as in apple cores. Æbleskiver is the Danish word for 'apple slices', referring to the chunks of said fruit customarily added to their center. But as with many foods that have migrated to different lands and cultures, æbleskiver have found a new home, new flavors and new meaning in America.

All in the Family

"As the Danes brought the tradition over, it really has become a family event - [not just during holidays but] anytime the family is together," explained Chad, adding that he often meets Danish-Americans who are surprised and delighted to find æbleskiver outside of its ethnic setting. "They'll say, 'I have never seen anyone make this outside of my grandma's or aunt's kitchen.' People are always really excited to share how to eat them. Everybody has their own way that they like to eat them."

Just as they are no longer reserved for special occasions, the many ways to eat æbleskiver have ventured beyond traditional apple fillings and powdered sugar toppings. At their Mill City Farmers' Market booth, the crew of Aunt Else's Æbleskiver have spiced up the apple with cinnamon and chai, or swapped it for blueberries, raspberries and strawberries. Savory centers have included bison sausage and bacon'n'cheddar, while many a sweet tooth have surely been satisfied by 'skivers filled with peanut butter cups or topped with ginger syrup. And of course, there are the different variations found throughout the world.

But for all the variety that æbleskiver offer for individual tastes, its true appeal lies in the universal theme of family togetherness that all of us can recognize. Chad is as enthusiastic about the pancake balls as Sarah, Linda and Lisa, even though his Irish heritage doesn't hold the same connections as his Danish-American partners. But making æbleskiver, he said, is also about making new connections and memories. "It's very meaningful to Danes but I love how their tradition of sharing it with those who are important to them translates to us," said Chad. "In our house, we [now have] 'Skiver Saturday and it's turned into a tradition."

"I feel like I'm sparking [in the kids] a lifelong interest of cooking which I grew up with," he continued, recounting how his 5-year-old son has gradually moved up in the æbleskiver process, first helping to break the eggs and mix the batter, then choosing toppings and now, rolling the puffs in powdered sugar. His ultimate goal: to turn the puffs in the pan. "He's too young yet," said Chad. "But he says, 'Dad! I'm going to help you make æbleskiver, then I can buy my own æbleski-van" (referring to his father's company-emblazoned vehicle).

For the partners of Aunt Else's Æbleskiver, the business is an extension of their families but they also want it to be a reflection of their community. From the beginning, they were determined to incorporate local sources - the æbleskiver mix is made with organic Minnesota wheat and Wisconsin buttermilk, while their own uniquely-designed pans are cast at a Minneapolis foundry. "We realized that we have this great hundred-year old recipe and the new thing that we're doing is making it organic and local," said Chad. "As soon as I uttered that for the first time, [I thought] 'Y'know what? That's not new.' That's how things were when they made this recipe."

 "We're really coming full circle." And a delicious one at that.

Simply æbleskiver

Ready, Willing and Æbleskiver

[Disclosure: Per the recent FTC ruling regarding free products and bloggers' reviews, I hereby declare having received an Aunt Else's Æbleskiver pan and mix free of charge - and I'm not giving them back!]

"If an Irishman [like me] can make these, anybody can!" Chad declared. How about a pancake-loving Filipina blogger? You betcha.

I first read about æbleskiver in a post by Heather of Diary of A Fanatic Foodie, then came across another at Scate Bakes' site. To my delighted surprise, Chad e-mailed me after reading my comment on Scate's post and offered to send me Aunt Else's Æbleskiver's newly-designed pan. Needless to say, I accepted with gleeful anticipation. Before receiving the pan, I went to the Mill City Farmers' Market to watch the Aunt Else's Æbleskiver crew in action; their deft and effortless turning of those pancake balls was so much fun to watch. Unfortunately, in thinking it looked so easy, I embarked on my first batch with a wee bit of overconfidence.

When the æbleskiver-pande finally arrived, it was love at first sight: a gorgeous piece of cast-iron cookware that's simple in design and substantive of weight. It's easy to see how, with loving care, it can become a treasured family heirloom. I was so eager to try it that I gave short shrift to the accompanying instructions to season the pan before first use. As a result, my initial attempt at æbleskiver-ing was a total fail, yielding pale, squishy ovoids instead of the golden pancake balls I saw at the market. Thankfully, Chad assured me that it gets easier with each batch and he emphasized the keys to success:

- Season the pan well. Properly prepping the pan before your first batch is critical to achieving the almost-nonstick quality of aged pans;
- Heat up the pan completely before pouring the batter. It takes a while as it's done over low-medium heat (you don't want to burn your ba - I mean, your puffs) but it will ensure a lovely golden color and help prevent sticking;
- Make æbleskiver as often as you can! Is that really a hardship?



I'm happy to report that my æbleskiver are now recognizable as such. I started with plain and apple-filled pancake balls, but now that I'm more confident about the technique, I plan to try out new flavors (red bean! octopus! adobo!)

So stay tuned for more æbleskiver adventures . . . !

My take on toppings: creamy vanilla yogurt and wild huckleberry jam

Wanna 'Skiver?

If you're craving æbleskiver, please visit Aunt Else's Æbleskiver for more details on purchasing their pans and mixes.

Or head over to Zoe Bakes - she's giving away a complete Aunt Else's Æbleskiver kit! Hurry - I'm not sure when the giveaway ends! [UPDATE: Zoe's giveaway winner was Jaime of Sophistimom. Congratulations and happy 'skivering!]

Velbekomme! (Have a good meal!)