Summer Southern Charm: Bluegrass Iced Tea

Bluegrass Iced Tea: two Noodles make one drink!

This past week began on a sweet note with Black Raspberry Cheesecake Pots - my contribution to Hay Hay It's Donna Day, a great food blog event hosted this month by Mardi of Eat.Live.Travel.Write. Now, it comes to a refreshing close with yet another blog-to-blog collaboration - the Thirsty Thursday Challenge with the divine Diva on A Diet of Beach Eats.

As one of the first two participants in last month's inaugural event, I had the pleasure of choosing one of the designated ingredients for the next cocktail challenge. For inspiration, the husband and I looked to our garden to come up with an unusual yet workable element: cucumbers! Although they are in the same family as squash and gourds, and are commonly considered to be vegetables, cukes are actually closer to melons, my favorite summer fruits. So, as the Memorial Day weekend ushers in the summer season, we thought that a cucumber-y cocktail would be an excellent way of welcoming hot days and sultry nights.

However . . .

Although Mr. Noodle and I threw down this Thirsty Thursday Challenge to all comers, we must confess that our own thirsts demanded quenching with the other designated ingredient chosen by Suzy of Suzy's Goodies: bourbon.

While my husband prefers to drink spirits either neat or on the rocks, I like my hard liquor well-mixed in a cocktail. So, Diva's event was a perfect way for Mr. Noodle to concoct a refreshment that would maintain the smooth flavor of bourbon he so enjoys, with additional flavors that appeal to me. Once again, we found inspiration in the garden by infusing Kentucky bourbon (Jim Beam, in this case) with fresh rosemary and mint. The result is a deliciously cool cocktail, perfect for sipping as you sit on the porch on a hot, humid summer night - or just imagining you're sitting on a porch on a hot, humid summer night . . .

Bluegrass Iced Tea

This drink is akin to mint julep, the classic cocktail of The Kentucky Derby (that other May event), in its combination of bourbon, mint and sugar; however, our version is reminiscent of yet another favorite Southern sipper - sweet iced tea. As with most cocktails, the following measurements are really more like guidelines. Please feel free to adjust the amounts of ingredients to create the right flavor for yourself!

Serves two

Ingredients

1 cup fresh mint leaves,  loosely packed
1 - 2 sprigs fresh rosemary,
Kentucky Bourbon Whiskey
4 tsps superfine (caster) sugar
Juice of one small lime
Tonic water
Ice cubes

To make:

Fill a lowball (a.k.a 'old-fashioned) or other 6-oz glass with mint and rosemary, then pour bourbon over the herbs until covered. Set aside and let steep for 3 to 6 hours. When done, strain out herbs and discard.

Divide infused bourbon equally between two lowball or 6-oz glasses. To each glass, add 2 tsps of sugar and 1/2 of lime juice, and stir to dissolve sugar. Add tonic water until mixture fills 2/3 of the glass, then add ice cubes to top. Serve with mint or rosemary sprigs.

Cheers, y'all!

Despite having bailed on our chosen ingredient, the husband and I are looking forward to seeing what fellow bloggers have done with the vegetable/fruit. If you're looking for some refreshing cocktail ideas to serve at your next summer soiree, please visit The Diva on a Diet at Beach Eats for an upcoming roundup of all entries to this month's Thirsty Thursday Challenge!

Making [Donna] Hay: Black Raspberry Cheesecake Pots

Black Raspberry Cheesecake Pots

"Make hay while the sun shines."

Meaning: Take advantage of an opportunity when favorable circumstances arise, before they quickly change.

Origins: References an agricultural past when farmers had to take advantage of a limited period of good weather to harvest and dry hay for the winter. The earliest record of this proverb appears in John Heywood's 'A dialogue conteinying the nomber in effect of all the prouerbes in the Englishe tongue' (1546): "When the sunne shineth, make hay".

I've spent a good deal of time kvetching about how hard this food-blogging business can be, with its inspiration-free periods, bouts of writer's block and occasional cooking failures. With such a gloomy outlook, it's a wonder I'm still in the game! But even the stormiest clouds eventually part, giving way to sunny days and a brighter perspective - like this week, when clearing skies revealed the perfect conditions for two post topics. Thanks to a pair of lovely blogger friends and the opportunity to join their food and drink challenges, my blog's forecast in the coming days is sweet and refreshing.

A fine day for some Donna Hay-making!

The first ray of sunshine came courtesy of Mardi of Eat.Live.Travel.Write, who is hosting this month's Hay Hay It's Donna Day, a marvelous food blogging event moderated by Denise and Lenny of ChezUs, in which participants make a designated Donna Hay recipe. For those unfamiliar with the personage (as I was), Ms. Hay is one of Australia's most celebrated cookbook authors and editor of her own top-selling, eponymously-titled magazine; she also writes a popular weekly newspaper column, has appeared on television and oversees her own line of house- and kitchenwares. Though she may remind you of a certain Stateside multimedia maven with similar credentials, all it takes is a quick peek at what Donna is serving to see why she is an equally bestselling and beloved international food star.

Now, as the winner of April's HHDD challenge, Mardi had the honor of choosing a dish for the May Hay-Making Day and, bless her heart, she chose a dessert: Blackberry Cheesecake Pots. Needing just five ingredients and a few minutes of preparation, this chilled creamy concoction is the definition of simplicity. But of course, you're in the Noodle house now, where simple is as Tangled does . . .

Black [Rasp]berry Cheesecake Pots
(from a recipe by Donna Hay, with a few tweaks)

In my last post, I mentioned informational cascades, by which people look for guidance for their own actions in the experiences of their peers and role models. The cascade was in full effect when I saw Mardi's announcement of the May HHDD event and this recipe. She had prepared the dessert exactly as given in the original, but noted that the pots took a while to set firmly and suggested using a heavier cream as a remedy. Her experience was a boon to me as I implemented her tip, which did indeed result in a velvety, rich consistency after only a few hours in the 'fridge. 

Finally, I meant to purchase the requisite blackberries at the grocery but was waylaid at the neighborhood farmers' market by an irresistible jar of homemade Black Raspberry Jam. Resistance was futile . . .

Serves 4

Ingredients

250g cream cheese, softened
1/4 cup (55g) caster or superfine sugar
2 Tbsps heavy whipping cream + 1/2 cup whipped cream
1 tsp vanilla extract
1-2 Tbsps black raspberry jam (or any favorite fruit jam)

To make:

1. In a food processor, blend cream cheese, sugar, 2 Tbsps heavy cream and vanilla extract until it achieves a smooth, creamy consistency;
2. Transfer cream cheese mixture to a bowl, then gently fold in whipped cream until incorporated;
3. Take 1/3 of the cheesecake blend and add the jam - stir to mix well;
4. Spoon or pipe cheesecake in layers, alternating between the plain and jammy mixtures, into small 1/2-cup dishes. Refrigerate for 1 hour or until firm.
5. Serve with fresh berries, jam on the side or biscotti. Enjoy!

Thank you, Mardi, Denise and Lenny, for putting together such an enjoyable and delicious event!

Now that you've seen the 'sweet' part of this week's blog forecast, please be sure to return in a few days when I offer up the 'refreshing' portion, thanks to The Diva on a Diet at Beach Eats and her Thirsty Thursday Challenge.

Of Fad and Fallacy

Lemon Rice with Ramps & Cashews

I give up.

Actually, I'm giving up for the second time: the first instance was supposed to have been the basis for a blog post - a post that simply refused to be written. After three weeks of trying to coax a reasonably interesting essay from a jumble of thoughts, all I have to show is a screenful of blah.  So, I give up . . . again.

And it's the smartest thing I've done in a while.

I ditched an entire blog post with a few simple keystrokes, though the decision to do so was not as easy. Those now-deleted words represented a considerable investment of time and effort, which in hindsight might have gone toward reading a book, taking a walk or baking some cookies. Given these costs - what I put in and what I gave up - the idea of erasing all of my work seemed too hasty. It just needs a little more time, I thought, a bit more effort. After all, winners never quit . . .

Hmph! How many of us have been shackled to a lost cause, thanks to that bit of misguided motivation? More than enough, it seems, to warrant its own economic term: the Sunk Cost Fallacy. By its flawed logic, abandoning an endeavor wastes the precious resources already invested; therefore, the investment of even more resources is justified in order to make it all worthwhile. In reality (and rationality), a futile continuation only compounds those losses and the end result is often a big, fat zero. At its optimistic best, the sunk cost fallacy prods us to persevere at a difficult task; at worst, it traps us in a Sisyphean challenge.

Warning: Fruitless Effort Ahead

(photo credit: fouro)

Well, the boulder rolled back on me one too many times, so I finally left it where it lay and started over with a more reasonably sized rock. I may not be able to recoup the hours spent on the discarded project, but at least I can direct the rest of my time toward more enjoyable and satisfactory activities.

Oh, wait! I almost forgot: Would you like to know what it was that I first gave up on - or rather, gave in to - and started it all?

Jumping on the Rampwagon

When it comes to trends and fads - say, skinny jeans or the latest iThingie - I am usually standing on the curb as the bandwagon zooms by. Frugality and a rather contrarian nature keep me from impulsively latching onto a current craze, but they can't entirely suppress the instinct to follow the herd. 

In a process known as an informational cascade, the adoption of an idea (or product) by a community spreads as each individual sees others before them taking it up:

"[P]eople form their beliefs using information obtained by observing the behavior or opinions of others . . . 'It is optimal for an individual, having observed the actions of others ahead of him, to follow the behavior of the preceding individuals without regard to his own information.'"

(Pierre Lemieux, Following the Herd)

According to the article above, such behavior has economic advantages by saving us the time and energy of gathering information ourselves, and the risk of making potentially bad decisions based on that information. Instead, we can watch others, such as role models and peers, for the results of their actions. When it comes to fads and the food blogosphere, this is quite easy to do.

Take for example the springtime phenomena known as ramps. I might have remained in blissful ignorance of this elusive wild leek, if not for the flurry of recipes, tweets and sundry news articles that sprouted early in the season. And I might have been unaffected by the frenzy if I hadn't seen respected friends and admired bloggers among the enthusiasts. Honestly, it felt rather lonely reading rapturous accounts of cooking with ramps and not being able to say "Me, too!" So, in spite of my general aversion to crowded spaces, I finally gave in to the fad and bought myself a bunch of those wild and crazy greens.

It turns out that in giving in and giving up, I had a lot to gain.

Lemon Rice with Ramps and Cashews

(Adapted from a recipe by my friend Nitya I.)

Depending on the source, ramps are to be lauded ("The New Arugula!" declares Time Magazine) or lampooned ("Stop talking about ramps!" implores Shut Up Foodies). Either way, at least now I can say I've tried them. While I'm embarrassed to admit that I searched for ramp recipes - it's an onion, Noodle-head! -  at least it gave me an idea of how they are most often prepared, which is pretty much any way you darn well please.

For my bunch, I chose this sunny side dish of Lemon Rice, made by Nitya I., a friend and former neighbor. The original recipe called for asafoetida, a pungent flavoring made from the resin of giant fennel and ubiquitous in Indian cookery; when cooked, its aroma is reminiscent of garlic and onions. Sound familiar? I had no asafoetida on hand, but I had plenty of ramps . . . 

Serves 4-6

Ingredients

1 cup Basmati rice, uncooked (will yield 3 cups cooked)

1 Tbsp + 1 tsp ghee (clarified butter)

1/2 tsp mustard seeds

2 Tbsps raw cashews, coarsely chopped

1 tsp red pepper flakes

1/4 tsp turmeric powder

1 cup chopped ramps, leaves and bulbs

1 clove garlic, minced

4-5 Tbsps fresh lemon juice 

1/4 tsp salt

Fresh cilantro, chopped

To make:

1. Cook rice according to package directions or these instructions. 

2. In a sauté or frying pan, heat 1 Tbsp ghee over medium heat and add mustard seeds. Cook until seeds start to 'splutter' (i.e. they start popping up - watch your eyes!);

3. Add cashews, red pepper flakes and turmeric powder, and cook until nuts turn golden brown;

4. Add ramps and garlic, and sauté until greens are wilted, then turn off heat; 

5. In a small bowl, combine lemon juice and salt;

6. In a large bowl, add 1 tsp ghee to warm cooked rice, then add sautéed seasonings and lemon juice mixture. Stir well to combine.

7. Garnish with fresh chopped cilantro and serve with grilled meats, such as lamb.

As mentioned, I was persuaded to join in the 'rampage' after seeing the marvelous dishes created by some of my favorite food bloggers. Ramps are nearing the end of their season, but there may still be some available at specialty grocers and local farmers' markets. So, check out these great recipes, then head out and forage some wild leeks of your own!

• Kat of A Good Appetite offers Wild Things Pasta with ramps and wild morel mushrooms, and a rustic Ramp and Potato Tart.
• Aiofe of The Daily Spud shows how it's done across the pond with a Wild Garlic Pesto - a close relation to ramps.
• Phyllis of me_Hungry has a great primer on how to prepare these greens in Ramps 101.

Finally, I'll leave you with one more iteration - Ramps, Cottage Bacon and Herbed Goat Cheese Pizza!

Pizza, Before the Oven

The Long and Winding Dumpling Road

Arepa Dumplings with Spicy Roasted Tomato Sauce & Powdered Pork

It is generally accepted that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line - unless that straight line gets Tangled.

I began last weekend with two very distinct points: start by making a dumpling dish and finish by submitting it to this month's International Incident Party, hosted by Penny of Jeroxie. But the journey between them proved more than a little bit loopy.

The first detour came with the definition of dumplings: at its most basic, it is simply a piece of cooked dough. From there, the dough is left wide open - dumplings can be made with a variety of flours, be plain or filled, sweet or savory, as large as a tennis ball or as small as a pebble, and come in shapes more numerous than I care to list here. They can be steamed, boiled, fried, baked and simmered, and are found in virtually every regional cuisine of the world.

As it was, I had been mooning over Andrea Nguyen's awesome cookbook Asian Dumplings: Mastering Gyoza, Spring Rolls, Samosas and More, so thoughts of delicious steamed dumplings filled my head. What would it be - bao? siu mai? sticky rice in lotus leaf? But soon after starting down this road, an unexpected obstacle led me to beat a new path . . .

The Tangled Route to Dumplings . . . 

Mr. Noodle once remarked that hearing me think out loud was like finding himself in my head - and he didn't sound particularly pleased to be there. As excruciating as my thought process may be to others, it eventually - if imperfectly - gets the job done. In this case, I set out to make a dumpling dish for Jeroxie's International Incident Dumpling Party and though the route was circuitous, at least I ended up where I was supposed to be.

The Journey Begins . . . 

If only my advance planning and organizational skills were equal to my unchecked imagination . . . As you can see from the convoluted diagram above, I had settled on making chochoyotes, an Oaxacan specialty of dumplings made from masa harina (used for making tortillas) and stewed in a simple soup. Surprise! What I actually had on hand was masarepa - an entirely different ingredient. Unwilling to make a trip to the grocery for a single item, I adjusted: chochoyotes - out, arepas - in! 

Arepas are a popular, traditional bread in Venezuela and Colombia; thicker than tortillas, they are often split open and stuffed with fillings, or served with a simple topping of butter or melted cheese. Since true arepas are more of a flatbread rather than a dumpling, I drew inspiration from gnocchi, an Italian dumpling traditionally made with potato. Instead of small rounded pieces, however, I returned to chochoyotes and shaped them flat with a small thumb indentation (similar to orecchiette). Next, my plan to boil the dumplings like pasta was nixed after a few test pieces resulted in an unpleasant gumminess, so I resorted to pan-frying, the usual preparation for arepas.

With the Italian inspiration still fresh in my mind, I decided to serve my dumplings with a tomato sauce and found the perfect one in Ms. Nguyen's Asian Dumplings! Though her Spicy Roasted Tomato Sauce was paired with Tibetan momos, the author's own words revealed a fitting symmetry to my South American version:

"When you present dumplings with this sauce, the combination may recall an Italian dish, but the sauce's zesty qualities resemble the Latin flavors of Mexico more than of Europe. But on closer analysis, the combination of chile, ginger, herbs, and spices is definitely Asian . . ." 

(Andrea Nguyen in Asian Dumplings)

This sauce neatly bridges the distance between the Asian steamed dumpling that I first considered and the Italian-inspired, South American-based fried one that I did make. To finish the dish, I came across a topping that can be found on both sides of the globe. Whether 'powdered' (en polvo) in Colombia or made into 'floss' (rousong) in Asia, marinated meat such as beef and pork are chopped or shredded into smaller pieces resembling - what else? - coarse powder or delicate floss, which is then sprinkled over other foods such as rice and soups. To make Asian floss, the meat is additionally cooked in a dry pan or low-heat oven until it achieves a dried, light texture. Lucky for me, I had plenty of leftover Tequila-Lime Pork Loin Roast from our Cinco de Mayo meal - perfect for a powdered pork topping! My around-the-world dumpling dish was complete . . .

Arepa Dumplings with Spicy Roasted Tomato Sauce & Powdered Pork

Arepa Dumplings
(recipe adapted from package of Goya Masarepa)

1 cup masarepa
1 tsp salt**
1 tsp baking powder**
1 cup warm water
2 Tbsp olive oil

**CORRECTION 5/16/10: Yikes! I need an editor . . . it should be 1/2 tsp of salt and BP. So terribly sorry if you've tried the recipe and thought you were eating a salt-lick. 

1. Whisk masarepa, salt and baking powder until blended. Add water and olive oil, then mix until a soft dough forms. Cover with a towel and let rest for about 5 minutes, then gently knead until dough is a bit firmer;
2. Pinch off a small piece of dough (a bit less than a tablespoon) and roll briskly between your palms until it forms a smooth ball. Gently flatten by pressing with your thumb, making an indentation. Place on a pan lined with wax or parchment paper, and continue with remaining dough;
3. In a skillet or sauté pan, heat 1-2 tablespoons of cooking oil. Add dumplings in batches and fry until golden on one side, then turn over and cook through. Repeat with the rest of the dumplings, adding more oil to the pan if necessary. (Alternatively, place the dumplings on a cookie sheet and bake in a pre-heated 350°F oven for about 5-7 minutes, or until dumplings are golden and crisp on the outside.)

Spicy Roasted Tomato Sauce
(adapted from Asian Dumplings by Andrea Nguyen)

The moment I read this recipe, I knew it would be perfect for the arepa dumplings; however, because I try to use what is already in my pantry before buying more, I made a few substitutions. For complete instructions and specific measurements, the original recipe can be found at Project Foodie: Asian Dumplings.

Yields 1-1/2 cups

Ingredients
(My substitutions italicized; see original recipe for precise amounts of other ingredients.)

Ripe tomatoes
2 Tbsps aji panca paste
1 tsp garlic paste
1 tsp ginger paste
Salt
Water
Fresh lime or lemon juice
1/4 tsp red pepper flakes
Ground cumin
Fresh cilantro or mint (I used both)

To make:

Roast tomatoes under the broiler; when done, remove from oven and let cool. Remove skins, chop coarsely and place in small bowl. Add aji panca, garlic and ginger pastes, and all remaining ingredients, except fresh herbs. Using a hand blender (or transfer to a food processor), blend the mixture until smooth. Add herbs and mix well, then set aside to allow flavors to blend. Sauce is best served at room temperature.

Powdered Pork

This recipe was inspired by Powdered Beef (Carne en Polvo), shared by Erica of My Colombian Recipes, who also offers a variety of authentic arepa recipes that I've been meaning to try (hence, the masarepa in my pantry). To make this powdered pork, I added a step gleaned from instructions for floss (rousang) by cooking it again. I used Tequila-Lime Roasted Pork Loin left over from our Cinco de Mayo taco dinner, but any cooked meat such as beef, chicken or fish, may be used. Although only one ingredient is required, it does take a bit of time to complete.

1 cup cooked pork (preferably marinated or seasoned), cut into small pieces

To make:

Place pork pieces into a food processor and pulse/grind until meat is very finely chopped. Don't worry if it is moist from any residual juices or sauce. Heat up a skillet or wok, but do not add any oil. Add meat to dry pan and cook over low heat, stirring occasionally, until texture of meat is light, like breadcrumbs. This may take 20-30 minutes or longer but do not be tempted to increase the heat - the pork might burn or turn into sawdust. When done, remove from heat and let cool.

Place dumplings on a plate or shallow pasta bowl, spoon sauce over them and sprinkle with powdered pork. Garnish with fresh cilantro and serve!

For more delicious dumplings, check out The International Incident Dumpling Party at Jeroxie!

A Prelude to a Post

Slow Cooker Tequila-Lime Pork Loin Tacos

"Be Prepared." -- Boy Scouts Motto

I was never a Scout, Boy or otherwise, which was just as well, considering I am almost never prepared. 

How often have I had to scuttle a planned recipe because I failed to check the pantry beforehand for the necessary ingredients? Too many to count. Unlike many other bloggers, I do not have a pipeline of posts written in advance to keep my site consistently updated. Instead, I end up scrambling for something to write when I finally realize that 10 days have passed since my last original post. Some people (*cough* Mr. Noodle *cough*) might say I lack focus, but the simple truth of the matter is that I'm waiting for inspiration to strike. Now, more than a week into May, that elusive bolt has finally gotten around to zapping me again. And, as if to make up for lost time, it has done so with a rare double jolt: I'm both late AND early!

In a couple of days, I will be posting my contribution to the International Dumplings Incident Party, hosted by Penny at Jeroxie (Addictive & Consuming). While the planned dumpling dish will remain a secret for now, I would like to share in advance a key element that comes courtesy of our Cinco de Mayo meal last Wednesday. Yes, the holiday is already passé, but bear with me because it was a delicious, if not terribly original, dinner. More importantly, it has found a second life in my next blog post. Where I'm late in posting about one celebration, I find myself a step ahead for another!

Slow Cooker Tequila-Lime Pork Loin Roast

Having tacos for Cinco de Mayo is hardly cause to strike up the mariachi band, but this pork loin recipe comes close to making it worthwhile. The inspiration came from a same-named recipe by Scott of ScottySnacks; however, the Snackman didn't count on a lazy Noodle who wanted to use as few ingredients as possible with as little effort as possible to produce a similarly tasty hunk of porcine meatiness. So, with a few changes here and there, I came up with a quickie version. 

Yields: a lot

Ingredients

2 1/4 lbs pork loin roast

1 tsp ground cumin

1 tsp dried oregano

1/4 tsp salt

1 Tbsp chili powder

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 whole lime, juiced

1/4 cup chicken broth

1/4 cup tequila

1 small bay leaf

1 whole chipotle, dried or 1 Tbsp ground chipotle

tortillas

white onions, diced

tomatoes, chopped

cilantro

salsa (optional)

To make:

1. Combine cumin, oregano, salt and chili powder, and rub all over pork loin roast;

2. Place roast in slow cooker and add remaining ingredients;

3. Cover and set slow cooker to high. Cook for 2-3 hours, or until roast is just done; alternately, set cooker to low for 4-6 hours until just done.

4. When finished, removed roast from slow cooker and shred meat;

5. Heat tortillas and assemble tacos with fresh onions, tomatoes and cilantro. Serve with a refreshing Mexican-themed adult libation of choice!

Two and a quarter pounds of pork is quite a bit of meat! I froze the leftovers, intending to have a Cinco de Mayo dinner redux at a later date, but that lightning bolt of inspiration hit me hard this weekend. So, I thawed it out and incorporated it into a dish that I'm hoping will turn out well enough to join Penny's International Dumplings Incident party.

Please come back on Wednesday to see how Tequila-Lime Pork Loin Roast and dumplings go together . . .