Butter & Beans

Grattis på födelsedagen, Angelica!

2008-08-16T23:10:00.000+02:00

Last Friday was Angelica's birthday. In my family, birthdays are the "go!" signal for some serious gluttony. True to this tradition, me and Angelica decided to make not one, but two cakes for her birthday.

Since a student dorm room isn't the perfect place to host a birthday party with eight adults, an infant and a dog, we commandeered my parents' kitchen for the cooking. It sure was a change to work in a well-equipped kitchen for once.

Long-time readers and people who read the comments at FXCuisine will know that we do things old school here at Butter & Beans: we make our own sour milk products, we cure our own salmons, we make ice cream without machines, and we even whip egg whites by hand.

Well, not this time!

Meet Kenwood Major, my mother's kitchen machine. This baby has been in my mom's service for 33 years, making it 10 years older than I am (and in better shape, too)! Affectionately known as "the hell machine", the loud grinding noise of old KM makes me think of cinnamon buns and other goodies from the kitchen.

As for the cakes, Angelica wanted something Pavlova-inspired and maybe with mangoes. I was all ears, but knowing that my sisters can be a bit... let's say "picky", we thought we'd play it safe and make a sponge cake with berries and cream, too.

Sponge cake

This sponge cake is a great basis for loads of simple cakes. It's not as elastic in texture as most "stand-alone" sponge cakes, which makes it perfect in cakes, and as an added bonus the cakes made with it taste even better the day after they're baked.

4 eggs
200 ml sugar
100 ml potato flour (cornstarch is probably fine too)
100 ml flour
2 tsp baking powder

Set oven to 175 °C (350 °F).

Crack eggs into a bowl, then add sugar in a theatrical manner.

Beat until light and white.

Mix starch, flour and baking powder together. Sift them if you feel like it, but as you can see, we don't bother.

Fold the dry mixture into the wet one, pour into a greased 26 cm (10 inch) pan, and bake for about 30 minutes.

Assembly

This is how we made the cake this time. Of course, you can substitute other jams and/or berries. Add sugar to berries as necessary.

1 sponge cake
200 ml homemade/high quality black currant jam
250 g bilberries or blueberries
250 g raspberries
250 g strawberries
300 ml heavy cream

Whip the cream rather stiff, taking care not to make butter. Cut the sponge cake horizontally in three layers. Place the bottom layer on a large plate. Spread jam evenly, add another cake layer. Spread the bilberries over the cake layer, and place a small amount of the cream on top. Add the last cake layer, cover the top and sides of the cake with the rest of the cream. Decorate the top with the raspberries and strawberries.

Fruit topping

"Pickling" the fruit in sugar and lemon juice makes it release its own juices and you'll get fruit drenched in the most delicious syrup. And all with just a few minutes of work.

3 ripe peaches
1 mango
juice from half a lemon
50 ml sugar

Halve and thinly slice the peaches.

Halve mango, cut grooves lengthwise, then crosswise to make a grid pattern. "Turn it inside out", then cut the pieces loose.

Place the fruit in a bowl. Add the lemon juice and sugar, mix well, and let sit for at least an hour.

Meringue/Dacquoise

Based on this recipe from Whisk: A Food Blog.

When baking this meringue, we thought the amount seemed way too generous for the puny 23 cm circle the recipe called for, so we spread it quite a bit larger. However, it deflated on us, turning into more of a dacquois, so in the end, we just cut it in half and stacked the pieces on top of another to give it the desired height. You have the chance to get it right from the start, so just do the 23 cm version.

6 large egg whites
1.5 tsp potato flour or cornstarch
1 tsp vinegar
seeds from half a vanilla pod or 0.5 tsp vanilla extract
1 ml salt
350 ml sugar
175 g hazelnuts
60 ml boiling water

Heat oven to 175 °C (350 °F). Spread the hazelnuts on an oven tray and brown them for 10-15 minutes in the oven, giving them a shake or two during this time. Remove from the oven, let cool for a few minutes, then grind them in a food processor or other suitable apparatus.

Get a squeaky clean bowl, preferably stainless steel. Crack the eggs one by one over a cup, and separate the yolk from the white with your hands. After each successfully separated egg, pour the white from the cup into the bowl. If a yolk ever breaks, discard that egg, get a new cup and try again. It is absolutely imperative that there is no trace of egg yolk in the whites--it won't rise!

Add starch, vinegar, vanilla and salt to the egg whites and beat them until they form soft tops. Gradually add the sugar while beating, until stiff tops form. Get the boiling water and add it in small batches, to avoid curdling the eggs. The meringue should now be beautifully glossy.

Add the ground nuts, and fold them into the meringue. Place a baking sheet on an oven tray, and spread the mixture in a 23 cm (9 inch) large circle on the baking sheet (it will be very thick). Place in the still hot oven, and bake for 10 minutes at 175 °C, then lower heat to 100 °C (200 °F), and bake for 75-90 minutes.

Assembly

1 meringue
300 ml heavy cream
1 peach/mango mix
mint leaves

Whip the cream and spread over the meringue, top with the fruit and decorate with mint leaves.

Excuses, excuses...

2008-08-14T14:11:00.005+02:00

Our two days in Öland were full of tasty food. Here is some lovely smoked shrimp from the local fishmonger.

It's been really quiet here at Butter & Beans for a while, what with the moving and vacationing and all that. I started school again, and Daniel started working, and there really hasn't been any time for cooking or baking, let alone blogging.

But this will all change as soon as I've dragged myself over to IKEA to stock up on some kitchen equipment. I have plenty of ideas I want to share with you all, so just hang on for a little while longer!

Vacationing and moving

2008-08-07T20:01:00.005+02:00

It's been a busy week or two. We flew up to Sweden last tuesday, stopped by Angelica's parents for a day, then had two days with my family on Öland, a large island off the Baltic sea coast in the southern parts of Sweden, and then came up to Stockholm, where we installed ourselves in a student dorm.

Naturally, we haven't had much time to cook and even less to take pictures of food. But it feels rude not to give you anything at all, dear reader. So I dug up a couple of nice shots from Öland, one of the dog, and one of my first own apartment, 2.5 years and six addresses ago.

View Larger Map

This is the location of Böda on northern Öland, where my family has been vacationing for several decades.

Himmelsberga is a very typical Öland village, now preserved as an open air museum.

Öland is a unique place, very beautiful and calm. Depicted here is Ramsnäs, a beach on the west coast of the island.

Tesla, named after legendary Serb inventor/scientist Nikola Tesla, is the last of the once three-dogs-strong pack that my parents keep. Luckily, the rumors are telling me there might be a puppy in the near future, to keep Tesla company. This picture shows Tesla engaging me in one of her favourite activities: you loop a finger around her fang, and she tries to pull you towards something fun, like a ball.

Moving homes is always a stressful activity. I left my parents' home in January 2006 in order to move to this little student room with the beautiful view. Since then I've lived in two locations in Stockholm, and three in Munich. Since this weekend, I'm at my third address in Stockholm, and as of September, I'll move into my fourth apartment in Munich. It's a nomadic life, but at least it means I make sure to travel light, and don't hoard unneccesary stuff. It's also helped me learn to utilize my sparse kitchen equipment to its full capacity, instead of perpetually buying new gadgets.

Bavarian Comfort Food: Käsespätzle

2008-07-26T20:23:00.006+02:00

Wow, it sure has been a while since I posted now. As the semester moved towards its inevitable conclusion, I was increasingly swamped in homework, then cramming, and lastly a little crescendo of exams. I did manage to get through it relatively unscathed, but I did feel a bit like a character from an old cartoon: all confused, and with a flock of little birds flying around my head, chirping something about statistics and stock portfolios.

This tuesday, however, it was finally over, and I could go back to spending all my time either thinking about, cooking, or eating food. Which I happily did, and as the weather took a turn for the worse, what better way to come back down to earth than some hearty comfort food?

Allgäuer Käsespätzle are the local, and much better tasting, version of Mac and Cheese. With the little knobs of slightly firm pasta known as Spätzle, mixed with crazy amounts of cheese and topped with fried onions, Käsespätzle is stringy, gooey, rich, comforting and delicious.

If you live in Bavaria, and are feeling lazy, you can easily buy decent Spätzle in any supermarket, but that's not how we roll here at Butter & Beans, oh no. Back in March, I lived in another student dorm, and when I realized one of my lovely neighbours there was an honest-to-God Allgäuer, I forced her to teach me the fine art of Spätzle making. This recipe is dedicated to her; thank you, Tanja!

Allgäuer Käsespätzle
Serves about two people.

If you ever pass through Bavaria, or know someone from the area, get them to set you up with a Spätzlehobel, and this will all be much easier. However, the recipe below will use the Real Man method, without need for special tools.

When it comes to cheese, if you want this to be real Allgäuer Käsespätzle, go for a mix of Allgäuer Emmentaler and Bergkäse. You could also use Appenzeller, or Le Gruyère, or basically any Swiss style cheese of alpine descent. Use a mix of mild and sharp cheeses to get your perfect taste profile.

Ingredients

250 g flour
5 eggs
2-4 Tbsp water
1-2 tsp salt
150-200 g cheese
1-2 onions, red or yellow
butter

Instructions

Mix flour, salt and eggs in a bowl, and add water little by little until you reach the right consistency. The batter should be rather firm, but still somewhat fluid. The ideal texture is slightly wetter than a bread dough, and quite a lot firmer than a pancake batter. Beat the batter with a wooden spoon until it goes smooth and starts forming air bubbles when beaten. Set it aside to rest for 20-30 minutes.

Meanwhile, grate the cheese, bring water to boil in a large pasta pot, and then slice the onions in thin rings or half-rings. Melt a large knob of butter in a skillet, and fry the onions on a medium flame until they get brown and crispy. Don't do it too quickly, or the onions will go bitter. Let the onions drain on some paper towels.
Heat oven to 175 °C.

When the dough has had its nap and the water is boiling, salt the water rather heavily, as for any pasta. Bring the water to a gentle simmer.
Spread the batter across a cutting board, and enjoy its lovely weird elastic texture.
Now use a knife to scrape small scraps of the batter straight into the simmering water. Work as quickly as you can, but don't worry too much if it takes a while.

When the Spätzle rise to the top, they're done. Remove them in batches with a slotted spoon, and set them in a small ovenproof tray. Between layers of Spätzle, layer in some of your grated cheese, and top it all off with the last of the cheese.
Place the tray in the oven until the cheese has melted nicely, then remove, sprinkle with the onions, and serve with a green salad.

Don't tell your cardiologist I gave you this recipe.

Olof Viktor's Sourdough Bread

2008-07-25T15:04:00.009+02:00

I really love bread. There is nothing as satisfying as kneading a dough, feeling it change character and consistency, shaping it, watching it rise, and finally placing in the oven to bake. And when it's ready, and you take it out of the oven and smell it, your mouth waters. Once you've taken your first bite, you sigh, and enter heaven.

Home-made bread always tastes great, but some taste better than others. That trusted old recipe you've used so many times you never bother measuring anything anymore because you know it by heart, is always tasty, but sometimes you just want more. And more is what you'll get if you buy the book Bröd (means "Bread", and is available in English), written by Swedish pastry chef Jan Hedh. The recipes are quite time-consuming, and probably what you would use in a professional bakery, but you will get great bread every time.

I highly recommend buying a bread/pizza stone, since the bread will be so much better when baked on one -- you won't get closer to wood-fired oven baked bread than this (if you don't have a wood-fired oven, of course). I made the mistake of leaving my bread stone back in Sweden, and I've missed it every single day.

The first recipe I tried from Bröd is a white sourdough bread. It takes at least two days to make, but it really, really, really is worth it.

Oh, the crust!

Oh, the texture!

Oh, the taste!

It is quite amazing how a simple wheat bread with a wheat sourdough can come out tasting so much, but this bread really is chock full of flavour. Simple, yet complex, and oh, so delicious! I'm also quite proud that I managed to make it look so good, but that's beside the point.

Olof Viktor's Sourdough Bread, from Bröd by Jan Hedh, page 43

The instructions assume you have a kitchen appliance with kneading hooks, but you can knead it with your hands (I did). This will take a bit longer, and your arms will get really tired, but see it as a form of exercise.

Day 1

Prefermented dough

2 grams fresh yeast
150 grams water
200 grams high-gluten wheat flour
2 grams salt

1. Dissolve the yeast in the water, and add to the flour you've put in a large bowl. Knead on low speed for 10 minutes.
2. Add salt, increase speed and knead for another 5 minutes.
3. Place dough in a lightly oiled container and put it in the fridge for 24 hours, or leave it out for 3 hours.

Day 1 or 2

Final dough

15 grams fresh yeast
500 grams water
1000 grams high-gluten wheat flour
350 grams wheat sourdough
20 grams sea salt

1. Dissolve the yeast in the water and pour over the flour, preferment and sourdough, and knead for 13 minutes. Add the salt, increase the speed and knead for another 7 minutes.
2. Place dough in a lightly oiled container and let rest for 60-90 minutes.
3. Sift a thick layer of flour onto a baking tray. Gently divide the dough into four parts, without pressing the air out of them, and place on the tray.
4. Gently fold the dough -- and again, be careful not to press out the air -- and place with the "seam" down, facing the tray.
5. Place the baking tray in the fridge, and let rise over night, or for about 14-16 hours.
6. Pre-heat the oven to 250 C / 480 F, with either baking stone or a baking tray inside.
7. Bake the bread, two at a time, with the seam facing upwards. Spray them generously with water, or place some ice cubes/a cup of water on a tray in the bottom of the oven.
8. Lower the heat to 200 C / 390 F after 5 minutes. After another 10 minutes, let the steam out by opening the oven door. Repeat twice.
9. Bake for a total of 40-50 minutes, then place the bread on a cooling rack.
10. Spray the bread with some more water, for a crackly crust.

Repeat with the remaining bread.

Check out YeastSpotting over at Wild Yeast, for all of your bread needs.

Comfort In A Bowl

2008-07-20T21:44:00.016+02:00

...and just like that, the weather turned on us. A week or so ago, me and Daniel went to Unterföhringer See for an evening swim, and the sun shone beautifully, with hardly even a breeze in the air. While enjoying the sunset and waiting for the bus to take us back home, a storm blew in from nowhere. In about two minutes flat, the weather went from serene, quiet and warm to howling-mad raining, with thunder and lightning as company. By the time we got home we were both soaking wet from running in the rain, trying to avoid getting hit over the head by pieces of old trees having got caught by the storm.

Thank God for the wine and Midsomer Murders episode we had waiting for us at home.

Although the weather calmed down a bit, it has stayed pretty much the same for a week or so, and everyone's missing the sun. With this kind of weather you don't really want to eat salads or fresh pastas, but rather something more comforting and warming. And what can be better than soup?

Daniel's mum gave me a wonderful cookbook this past Christmas, called Soppor, bröd och röror (Soup, bread and spreads), written by the two sisters Lisa Eisenman Frisk and Monica Eisenman. The book is divided into three parts (guess which ones), and every recipe comes with a suggested soup, bread and spread. Daniel suggested we make the lentil soup, and I'm not one to turn down lentils, so I jumped at the opportunity. The recipe was very simple and straightforward, and it turned out just lovely.

As you can probably guess from the picture, I made pita bread to go with the soup, and Daniel made a lovely hummus that I can't stop thinking about -- it was sooo good! -- but today is all about the soup. If you serve the it with bread and some sort of spread you can easily feed four hungry persons, but the soup alone will feed only two. Unless you're not that hungry.

Oriental Lentil Soup, from Soppor, bröd och röror by Lisa Eisenman Frisk and Monica Eisenman

1 onion
2 cloves of garlic
2 Tbsp oil, for frying
1 tsp cumin
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp cayenne pepper
1 tsp paprika
150 ml red lentils
1 litre chicken or vegetable stock
400 g / 14 oz can of chopped tomatoes
2 Tbsp tomato puree
1 medium carrot
1 red bell pepper
1 yellow bell pepper
2 stalks of celery
Salt and pepper to taste
Chopped parsley

Instructions

Peel, chop and fry the onion and garlic in a saucepan for a couple minutes, until soft. Stir in the spices.
Rinse the lentils and put in saucepan. Add the stock, chopped tomatoes and tomato puree. Let simmer for about 10 minutes.
Peel and dice the carrot, peppers and celery, stir into the soup and let simmer for another 10 minutes, or until the lentils are soft. If needed, add more stock. Salt and pepper to taste. Add the parsley just before serving.

-----

We both really loved this soup, and the pita and hummus paired perfectly and made the meal more substantial. The heat from the chilies that I missed in the soup, Daniel put in the hummus instead. Next time I'll definitely add some more heat to the soup, but unless you're a chili nut, you don't have to.

Lemon Panna Cotta

2008-07-12T13:51:00.002+02:00

The weather has been really lovely lately, with temperatures around 30-35 C. This has made it a tad difficult to go outdoors without almost having an asthma attack, but I don't care, it's worth it! Even though the weather makes my brain scream "ice cream ice cream ice cream ice cream ice cream!" all day long, I have yet to actually do it. Shared kitchens aren't all that fun, and I wouldn't want someone's food or hot oil ending up in my custard. So there was no ice cream to be had, but I still wanted something cool and refreshing, preferably that didn't require too much work either, and what is easier than panna cotta?

Instead of Daniel's recipe, with only cream, I decided to try one of Tartelette's, with half cream and half milk. I flavoured the panna cotta with lemon zest, but if we had had mint at home I would've used that too, and perhaps lime instead of lemon.

The panna cottas turned out very light in both feeling and flavour, but since I've had no previous experience with powdered gelatin they turned out a little bit too jiggly. Next time I'll just use gelatin leaves.

Lemon Panna Cotta, adapted from Tartelette. Yields 2

Ingredients

125 ml milk
125 ml heavy cream
60 ml sugar
The zest from one lime
1 vanilla bean, split in half, and the seeds scraped out (NOT to throw away, mind you...)
1 teaspoon powdered gelatin bloomed in 1 Tb water (means to pour the water over the gelatin and let it sit while you prepare the panna cotta) (Note: this turned out to be too little gelatin to make the panna cottas set, but I don't know if the amount is wrong or if I just fucked it up.)

Combine all the ingredients, except the gelatin, in a saucepan over medium high heat and bring to a boil. Remove from the heat and let the cream to steep for 20 minutes. Pass the mixture through a sieve or a chinois, heat the gelatin in the microwave for 8 seconds and quickly stir it in the cream mixture. Divide it evenly among small dishes, glasses, etc...Let set in the refrigerator for at least 3 hours.

Serve with berries or a coulis.

Swedish Meat Balls (Köttbullar)

2008-07-04T18:25:00.000+02:00

Returning to the theme of Swedish home cooking, today we take a look at Köttbullar, the Swedish meat balls. These tasty little balls (god I love saying that, please don't hate me for it) are mandatory on the Christmas smörgåsbord, and are served as a quick everyday dish in homes all over that oblong country called Sweden. They were always rather well known abroad, but IKEA has brought them to tables in their warehouses all over the world, ensuring that people everywhere have a chance to try them.

The only sad thing about this story is that IKEA's meat balls just aren't that good. They're decent, but they belong in the category of pre-made, frozen and reheated meat balls that my family affectionately calls "bouncing balls" (studsbullar), due to their rubbery texture. The home made version is another dish entirely, and belongs in the category of simple home cooking that brings you back to your childhood, where your mother served you this perfect comfort food.

Mothers, yes. More or less every mother in Sweden has her own meat balls recipe, and the term mammas köttbullar (mom's meat balls) is used to denote anything with that real emotional aspect to it: nobody makes meat balls like your own mother. Me, I'm not a mother, nor am I likely ever to be, but since November 2007, I am an uncle, so I guess my meat balls are morbrors köttbullar (uncle's meat balls) instead. Not that my little nephew Henning has tasted them, but maybe he will one day.

Morbrors köttbullar

The problem with ground meat is that it can easily get a boring, dry texture and swell in your mouth in a nasty sort of way. To avoid this, generations of Swedish mothers have added breadcrumbs soaked in water or milk to moisten the mixture, and eggs to bind it together. I use heavy cream instead, and I advise you to do the same, the difference in taste is bigger than the difference in fat content. Another trick to help keep the meat balls juicy is to use a 50-50 mixture of ground beef and ground pork.

Like most traditional Swedish dishes, meat balls are seasoned very lightly, the recipes calling only for onions, salt and white pepper. I like to add a bit of tabasco to give them a sort of background heat, without actually tasting of chili, but that's optional. Most people put the onion through a fine grater to create onion mush, while I prefer to chop it. Chopping it gives you little pieces of onion ingrained in the meat, which I think gives a better texture, but it does make the balls a bit more brittle.

This recipe is the usual amount that I make for 2 people, but it probably serves 3-4 adults, especially if you add a salad and dessert to the meal.

Ingredients
500 g of ground meat, preferably 250 g each of ground beef and pork
1 onion
2 Tbsp of bread crumbs
3-5 Tbsp of heavy cream
1 large egg
salt
white pepper
(5-7 dashes of tabasco)

Instructions

Put the bread crumbs in a bowl large enough to mix all the ingredients, and cover with the cream. Let sit for 5-10 minutes to let the bread crumbs absorb the cream. Rather finely chop (or finely grate) the onion and add it and the egg, some salt, pepper and the tabasco to the crumbs and mix.

Something along these lines. Not too bad looking with the red onion, but please ignore the dirty pot in the background. It's one of those perks of sharing a kitchen with 11 students.

Mix in the ground meat, massaging the mixture until it goes smooth. If it feels grainy, add a little more cream. Season with salt and pepper to taste. This last step can be hard if you're squeamish about tasting raw ground meat, which I am not, but unfortunately, I don't know the amount of salt and pepper necessary; I taste my way to it.

Your mixture should look something like this when amateurely photographed in heavy backlight.

Wash your hands off, and rinse them with cold water. Grab pieces of the mixture and roll them between your hands into meat balls, about 2-3 cm across. Place them on a slightly moist cutting board.

When all the balls have been rolled, heat a generous amount of butter in a skillet (preferably cast iron), and give the balls a nice browning on high heat, then lower to low to medium heat and fry them evenly (just shake the pan, they should roll around nicely) for about 5-10 minutes. You'll probably need two frying pans, or to fry them in batches. When you think they're nearing completion, try one. The ideal is that it should have just a little hint of pink in the middle, and drip juices when you cut into it. Don't overcook them: nobody likes them tough and dry.

Alright, that's it! To serve traditionally, boil some potatoes, and make a sauce by deglazing the skillet with some water and then add some cream or milk, a little bit of starch to thicken, and some soy to give a nice color. Serve the meat balls with the potatoes and sauce, some lingonberry jam and perhaps pickled cucumbers.

We made these for our midsummer's supper, so here's a picture of the finished meatballs along with some other traditional Swedish midsummer's food: pickled herring with sour cream and boiled eggs, beer and spiced vodka (snaps).

Lemon & Cardamom Scones

2008-07-01T09:15:00.000+02:00

Just like chocolate balls, scones are another thing every young Swede gets to bake in home economics, and is very popular as breakfast bread among my friends. It is, however, almost completely unheard of among everyone I've met so far in Germany. They haven't even heard the name, let alone tasted or baked one, which I find a bit funny since it's so common back home. I just assumed it was popular everywhere, but I guess I was wrong. Pity, though, since scones are so easy to make, and almost impossible to fail with.

I have two defaults when it comes to scones--regular ones and whole-wheat ones. I've made both a million times, and I don't even bother measuring the ingredients anymore because I already know how the dough is supposed to feel and behave. Comforting as it is to be able to produce delicious scones while blindfolded and with one arm tied behind my back, I'm beginning to feel like experimenting. This wasn't really a conscious decision, the thought just came to me one morning that I wanted to make scones flavoured with lemon zest and cardamom seeds.

So I did.

They were delicious.

Lemon & Cardamom Scones

550 ml wheat flour
2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
50 g butter, cubed
zest from one lemon
1 tsp cardamom seeds, finely ground
200 ml milk, yoghurt or sour cream

Pre-heat oven to 250 C.
Sift together all dry ingredients.
Add butter and incorporate well using the tips of your fingers or a fork until the mixture is crumbly.
Add the fluid and mix together--the dough will probably be a bit sticky, but that's okay.
Divide dough into 6-8 parts and roll into buns. Place on a baking sheet and prick them lightly with a fork.
Bake for about 10 minutes, or until golden brown.

Serve with orange marmalade, or lemon curd.

Next time, I think I'll try a nutty scone.
(That should pair nicely with my even nuttier boyfriend, right?)

Cardamom - A Love Affair

2008-06-29T15:55:00.005+02:00

I love cardamom. Always have, always will. The smell of it haunts my childhood memories, as do the so-not-plain cardamom buns my mother always made. My mother has taught me a lot of things, but the one thing I will always remember is this: Always use more cardamom than stated in any bun recipe!

Weird thing to remember, right? Well, what can I say--mothers are always right!

The state of supermarkets here in Munich is really quite horrible, and one item you will never be able to find in one is cardamom seeds. Maybe they're not easily available where you live either, but every little corner shop in Sweden sells them. That said, horrible supermarkets does actually come with a few advantages. For example, food- and farmer's markets can be found all over town, and since the supermarkets are so empty, there are quite a few little shops that specialise on, say, spices. We found a great little shop selling only spices quite close to the city centre, and since we wanted to make cinnamon buns, we soon paid them a visit. After having been interviewed for the local TV station doing short interviews at the shop (What are you looking for? Oh, cardamom, what is it for? Oh, cinnamon buns, is that a typical Swedish Easter dessert? No? Okay, bye then.) we found our precious cardamom, and the world made sense again.

Swedish Buns recipe as old as the hills (this particular one comes from Sju sorters kakor). Yields: depends on how big you make them.

Dough
150 g butter
500 ml milk, preferably full-fat and at room temperature
50 g fresh yeast
1/2 tsp salt
150 ml sugar
1 egg
2-3 tsp cardamom seeds, finely ground
1000 g wheat flour

Crumble yeast into a large bowl.
Melt the butter in a small saucepan. Add the milk and stir together. When it has reached 37 C, or body temperature, add a small amount to the yeast and stir until yeast has dissolved. Add the rest of the liquid.
Add the salt, sugar, cardamom, egg and about 800 g of the flour and start kneading the dough, either by hand or machine with dough hooks. Add more flour, little at a time, and knead until the dough is smooth, shiny and does no longer stick to the sides of the bowl. Be careful not to add too much flour--you don't want the dough to be dry, but you also don't want it to be sticky. (I usually knead it mostly using my hands instead of a wooden spoon, since it's easier to tell when to stop adding flour.)
Dust with a little bit of flour, cover with a clean kitchen towel and let rise in a warmish environment for about 40 minutes, or until doubled in size.

In the meantime, make the fillings.

Cardamom and Almond paste
2 tsp cardamom seeds, finely ground
125 g almond paste
50 g butter, at room temperature

Grate the almond paste and mix together with butter and cardamom until smooth and spreadable.

Cinnamon
100 g butter, at room temperature
100 ml sugar
2 tsp ground cinnamon

Mix everything together until spreadable.

Divide the dough into two parts.

For the cinnamon buns, roll out a rectangle about 30 cm x 40 cm and spread the filling evenly. Roll it together, from bottom to top (i.e. at one of the longer sides), cut into equally large pieces and place on a baking sheet.

For the cardamom/almond buns, roll out the dough until it is rather long, and about 20 cm wide. Spread out the filling evenly. Instead of rolling, fold in in half along the long side and cut out strips, about 3-4 cm wide. Make a 3/4 cut from bottom to top, making sure it does not divide entirely. They should sort of look like a pair of legs, ending with a bit of stomach. Spin out each "leg" in opposite directions, and then tie them into a knot. Place on a baking sheet.

Cover with a kitchen towel and let rise for about 30 minutes, or until doubled in size.
Pre-heat the oven to 225 - 250 C / 440 - 480 F.

Whisk together an egg with about a teaspoon of water and a pinch of salt, and lightly brush the buns. Top them off with pearl sugar (only for the cinnamon buns) and perhaps some chopped almonds.

Bake in the middle of the oven for about 10 minutes, or until lightly golden.

If you don't plan on eating the whole batch in one go, freeze them as soon as they've cooled off.

For more bread, sweet and savory, check out YeastSpotting over at Wild Yeast.

Homemade Strawberry Liqueur

2008-06-22T17:52:00.001+02:00

Here's one from our personal archives: strawberry liqueur. Last summer, I worked right in the middle of Stockholm, only a stone's throw away from Hötorget (Hay Square), and its bustling fruit and vegetable market. This market is a lovely piece of unswedishness in the middle of Sweden: most, if not all, vendors are immigrants or children thereof, and as you walk between the stalls, they shout offers at you: "strawberries, 2 boxes for 20!", "fine plums, half price!", "beans, bananas, new potatoes!". I used to frequent a particular stall, often passing by on my way home from work, picking up fruits, nuts, and whatever vegetables we needed for dinner. By the end of summer, I bought a few kilos of lingonberries, and made jam.

One day, I arrived only fifteen minutes before closing time, and as I was browsing the produce, the vendor asked me if I was interested in some strawberries. The prime strawberry season was over by then, but he offered me 8 boxes (about 4 kg) for about €10, how can you resist an offer like that?

One of the things we tried with my accidental harvest was a homemade strawberry liqueur, which turned out to be a very nice base for summery drinks, going very well with some lemon or lime juice, vodka and soda water, or with juices for a sweeter touch. It also had a beautiful colour, and smelled heavenly. For all the aspiring hobby bartenders, this is a great recipe, a lot better than any store bought version.

Strawberry liquer

Makes about a liter.

Ingredients
1 kg of fresh strawberries (about 2 liters)
500 g sugar
1 liter of vodka

Trim the green parts off the strawberries. Place the berries, sugar, and vodka in a suitably large glass jar with a tight lid. Let sit in room temperature for three weeks. Every other day, turn the jar over a few times, so the sugar dissolves well. After the three weeks, pass it through a sieve and bottle. Keeps indefinitely, and will actually mature over the next three months or so.

The boozy left over strawberries can be served with some vanilla ice cream.

Because Yeast is Fun

2008-06-19T09:43:00.003+02:00

As previously stated, I really love baking bread, but unfortunately I don't do it all that often anymore. Since it has been a few months since last time, I thought I'd start out with the simplest thing of all - whole wheat rolls. My mother makes the most wonderful whole wheat rolls, but instead of asking for her recipe, I wanted to invent my own.

I used this recipe as a reference, but I changed the original recipe quite a lot. Instead of doing it the old-fashioned way, with only whole wheat and all-purpose flour, I added rolled oats and ground almonds to give the rolls some more flavour, as well as keeping the crumbling factor low. A couple of days after they were baked, they were still nice and juicy, which is well done for a roll that tends to become dry as a desert within 24 hours.

Whole Wheat Rolls With a Twist, adapted from svensksmak.se

I kneaded the dough by hand. If you have a Kitchen Aid or similar machine with a kneading hook, use that one instead. Unless, of course, you want a bit of exercise.

Ingredients
25 g fresh yeast
400 ml milk
25 g butter
3 Tbsp Honey
1 tsp salt
100 g ground almonds
100 g rolled oats
230 g whole wheat flour
220 g wheat flour, high in protein

Crumble yeast into a large bowl. On low heat, melt the butter, then add the milk. Let cool until lukewarm; about 37 C, or about the same temperature as your finger.

Add a small amount of the milk/butter mixture to the yeast, stirring with a wooden spoon until the yeast is completely dissolved, then stir in the rest. The reason for this is that it's much easier to dissolve the yeast in a small amount of liquid rather than a large.

Stir in honey and salt, then add almond and rolled oats, slightly crushed in the palms of your hand.

Add the flours in small batches, stirring vigorously as you do so. If the wooden spoon will no longer do the trick, knead it with your hands on a clean, floured surface until the dough is no longer sticking to your hands, the table or anything at all, and easily forms into a ball.

Put the dough back into the bowl, sprinkle some flour on it (so the surface won't dry out), cover the bowl with a clean kitchen towel and let rest for 40 minutes, or until doubled in size.

Divide the dough into 24 parts, and roll into small balls. Place on a baking tray lined with a baking sheet or silpat, cover and let rest for another 30 minutes.

In the meantime, pre-heat your oven to full whack, but remember to lower it to 225 C once the buns are in the oven.

Bake in the middle of the oven for 10-15 minutes, or until golden brown.

Serve while still warm, with ridiculous amounts of butter on top.

Strawberry Lime Tiramisù

2008-06-17T11:28:00.004+02:00

As you might have guessed by the picture, moderation isn't really my thing. At least not when it comes to strawberries.

I grew up with two older sisters and two younger brothers, and my father was the sole provider - this might not sound very strange to you, but in Sweden, women generally keep working even if they have children. My mother stayed at home. Despite the fact that we hardly ever had money to spare, we always had food on the table and (thanks to H & M, often new) clothes on our bodies. I don't really know how they did it, but my parents always made ends meet without showing they had to struggle. The only time I felt we could have used more money was during strawberry season. Having to share 2 litres, or about 1 kg, of strawberries with all of my siblings and both mother and father was simply torture. I always wanted more and, unfortunately, so did everyone else. My father used to weigh the strawberries to make sure no one got too much or too little, which I guess was fair albeit a tad annoying.

I think Daniel, with his three older sisters, have similar strawberry memories - the first summer we spent together (which was also the first summer away from our respective homes) we both marveled at the amount of strawberries we were allowed to eat without having to share! I think we both ate more than our fair share of strawberries that summer, not feeling the least bit guilty about not offering someone else to have a taste. Two years later, I feel every bit as amazed at the amount of strawberries I'm allowed to eat on my own, and I still don't feel like sharing.

We originally planned to make the Rhubarb Strawberry Tiramisù that FX Cuisine recently posted about, but when we got to the store there was no rhubarb to be seen anywhere, so we had to rethink. It took me about two seconds to combine the strawberries with lime instead of rhubarb, and the dessert turned out just as amazingly delicious as I thought it would. I still want to try the rhubarb version, but the strawberry lime one is definitely a keeper. That said, the finger biscuits that go well in the traditional Tiramisù does absolutely nothing for me in the fruit versions, and next time I'll just leave them out, or substitute with chopped nuts (depending on the fruit I use) or a less spongy biscuit or cookie.

Strawberry Lime Tiramisù for two greedy persons, inspired by FX Cuisine

You probably won't need all of the mascarpone cream (we didn't), but you can keep it in the fridge until you buy new strawberries, or whatever other fruit that tickles your fancies.

Ingredients
500 g fresh strawberries, rinsed and sliced
250 g mascarpone
2 eggs, separated
50 g sugar
1 lime, zest and juice
1 shot cointreau, or to taste
Finger biscuits

Instructions
Whisk together egg yolks, lime zest and sugar. Whisk this into the mascarpone, until the mixture is creamy and smooth.
Beat the egg whites until light and foamy, and gently fold them into the mascarpone cream.
Chop up some finger biscuits, and place in the bottom of a glass or serving bowl.
Mix together lime juice and cointreau, and cover the biscuits with a small amount each.
Layer everything in a fancy glass or serving bowl. Finish it off with a ridiculous amount of strawberries, and pour the remaining lime/cointreau mixture on top.

Chocolate cookies, or Märtas skurna chokladkakor

2008-06-15T16:23:00.005+02:00

Most, if not all, Swedish families have a copy of Sju sorters kakor in their cookbook collection. The name, which literally means "Seven types of cookies/cakes", refers to the Swedish (and probably Finnish/Finlandish (yes, there is a difference) - or so my Granny has led me to believe) tradition of serving at least seven different types of baked sweets during a syjunta (sowing circle) or kafferep (lit. coffee rope) - think English High Tea, but with coffee and sowing or knitting instead of tea and scones. Sju sorters kakor was first published in 1945, following a competition in which homebakers all over the country were asked to send in their best cake/cookie/bun recipes, and the winners' recipes were published in this book. Today, more than 60 years after its first publication, this book is the over-all most sold book in Sweden, and more than one in three Swedes own a copy.

With a history like this, it is safe to say that everyone in Sweden has either baked or tasted something from this book. One likely culprit is Märtas skurna chokladkakor, or "Märta's cut cookies". I've been making these since I was about twelve, an all-time favourite in the cookie jar. They're also useful if you need a favour from someone, or as a bribe. Simple, all-purpose, dead-simple to make cookies. What more do you need?

Märtas skurna chokladkakor, from Sju sorters kakor, p. 94

Ingredients
200 g. butter, softened
250 ml brown sugar (regular works fine, too, I just like brown better)
500 ml all-purpose flour
4 Tbsp Cacao
1 tsp baking powder
1 Tbsp vanilla sugar / extract
1 egg

For the glaze:
1 egg, slightly beaten
chopped almonds

Instructions
Pre-heat oven to 200 °C / 390 °F.
Mix everything together in a bowl; the dough should be smooth and pliable.
Divide dough into six parts, and roll them out into equally long strips. Place them on a baking tray, greased or lined with a baking sheet or silpat. Flatten them somewhat with your hands. Brush with the egg, and sprinkle the chopped almonds on top.

Bake in the middle of the oven for 15 minutes, or until slightly crackled on top. While still warm, cut them into slanted rectangles, or parallelograms if you are mathematically inclined.

Reuben Sandwich

2008-06-15T14:55:00.014+02:00

The other day, having a beer and a burger at a bar, an exchange student from MIT laughed at me and said "I've never seen anyone eat a burger with knife and fork before", to which I replied "This is Europe, we have culture".

Entirely false, of course. Not the part about Europe having culture, it has so many cultures that it's always been a favourite pastime here to attempt to wipe some culture or other out. No, I was just eating the burger with cutlery because I didn't feel like getting ketchup all over my hands. But the experience gnawed on me, I felt a need to reassure myself that I wasn't a barbarian by American standards.

So I decided to make Reuben sandwiches for Saturday dinner. I first heard of the Reuben while watching an episode of House, and googled it afterwards. The Reuben, like most popular dishes, comes in many local variants, and there's a bunch of different background histories to it. Whatever the truth may be, it is certainly a dish with Central European roots (or at least components). As a disclaimer, I want it to be noted that I've never had an authentic American Reuben, so if you feel this is oh my god all wrong, please tell me why.

Authentic or not, this is a delicious sandwich which scores a good 8 on the decadence scale, and if served with a side of fries, I think you'll be at about a 10. Since it's not something you come across in Europe, this recipe will be illustrated with more pictures than usual, so that this delicious decadence can conquer the continent.

I believe that the traditional meat to use for a Reuben is corned beef. We substituted a simple cured ham. There should be thousand island dressing, we used something called "cocktail sauce" instead. At least when it came to sauerkraut and Swiss cheese, we could get hold of the real stuff, so we used sauerkraut with Riesling wine, and a nice Appenzeller cheese from La Gruyère.

Reuben Sandwich, Central European style

Serves 2 reasonably hungry people. To go all out on the decadence, serve with fries. I'd rather have a nice green salad with a lemon dressing, but to each his own.

Ingredients
4 slices of good rye bread
2-4 slices of Swiss cheese
ca 100 g of cold cut meat
ca 150 g sauerkraut
thousand island dressing
butter, salt, black pepper

Put the sauerkraut in a small saucepan with a bit of water, and let simmer to heat the sauerkraut and let it absorb the water.

Gently fry the meat with a little butter to let it release some fluids and cook a bit. You don't want the finished sandwich to taste of raw cold cuts, do you?

Butter the bread slices on what will be the outside of the sandwiches. This will make a mess of your cutting board, but sacrifices must be made for the greater good. If using an assymetric bread, take care to butter the slices so that when recombined, they will form a nice sandwich. I learned that one the hard way. If you didn't understand the previous sentence, don't worry, you'll do fine.

Slather, but don't slobber, the other side of the slices with thousand island dressing. Cover two bread slices with the cheese, and the other two with the meat.

Place a generous slab of sauerkraut on top of the meat. Season with black pepper and some salt.

Place the cheese-topped slices on the other ones. This is when you might realize that your slices don't line up nicely, and cover the fact up by taking the photo from a dishonest angle.

Heat the frying pan to low to medium heat, and place the sandwiches in it.

Press down on them with a lid, and fry them under the lid for about 4-5 minutes, until nicely browned.

Use a small plate and a fork to flip the sandwiches and place them with the uncooked side down. You need the plate, because the sandwiches have a tendency to fall to pieces otherwise. Do it like this: you place the plate right next to the sandwich in the pan, and use the fork to flip the sandwich against the plate. Now level the plate so the sandwich slides back into the pan. Don't worry, It's much easier to just try it than to try to understand my explanation of it, I promise you. Fry under the lid for another 4-5 minutes.

Cut each sandwich into two slices, and serve with a cold beer.

Black-Bottom Cupcakes

2008-06-04T16:41:00.011+02:00

I love muffins. I especially love the muffin's crust, the best part of the whole thing, and the sole reason for making them. I always eat the bottom first, saving the crusty top for last. Oh, and I always break the top in half to eat it inside-out, really saving the best for last.

I rarely make cupcakes, though. They are always so sticky, messy and sometimes difficult to eat that I never feel compelled to make any, despite the fact that they're almost always delicious. These black-bottomed lovelies are, as you might have suspected by now, an exception.

Chocolatey? Check!
Mess free? Check!
Easy to make? Check!

I originally made these cupcakes for Daniel and his co-workers last summer. I used to bake almost every day back then (oh, those were the days...) and since I always made more than the two of us could handle alone, I donated most of it for the afternoon fika at his office. I would always feel satisfied when Daniel came home from work telling me how one of them had eaten so much he got a stomach ache, saying It was worth it! It was probably just as well he only worked during the summer, or all of them would have gotten too fat to move.

Black-Bottom Cupcakes by David Lebovitz, via Leite's Culinaria

Ingredients

For the filling
8 ounces cream cheese, regular or reduced fat, at room temperature
1/3 cup granulated sugar
1 large egg, at room temperature
2 ounces bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, coarsely chopped

For the cupcakes
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup firmly packed light brown sugar
5 tablespoons natural unsweetened cocoa powder (not Dutch-process)
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup water
1/3 cup unflavored vegetable oil
1 tablespoon white or cider vinegar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Instructions

MAKE THE FILLING
Beat together the cream cheese, granulated sugar, and egg until smooth. Stir in the chopped chocolate pieces. Set aside.

MAKE THE CUPCAKES
Adjust the rack to the center of the oven and preheat to 350°F (175°C). Butter a 12-cup muffin tin, or line the tin with paper muffin cups.

In a medium bowl sift together the flour, brown sugar, cocoa powder, baking soda, and salt. In a separate bowl, mix together the water, oil, vinegar, and vanilla.

Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients and stir in the wet ingredients, stirring until just smooth. Stir any longer and you will over mix the batter and end up with less-than-tender cupcakes.

Divide the batter among the muffin cups. Spoon a few tablespoons of the filling into the center of each cupcake, dividing the filling evenly. This will fill the cups almost completely, which is fine.

Bake for 25 minutes, or until the tops are slightly golden brown and the cupcakes feel springy when gently pressed. These moist treats will keep well unrefrigerated for 2 to 3 days if stored in an airtight container.

Looks That Deceive, or Boiled Vegetables are Fun

2008-06-03T12:27:00.000+02:00

Today, I want to give you the most boring recipe you'll ever read. It goes like this: carrots, butter, lemon, salt, pepper. Well, not quite, as you can see in the picture, but it could. Before you remove us from your feed reader, please, pretty please, try this recipe. You'll be surprised at how delicious something so simple can be.

I first got the idea of making these vegetables as a side dish to fried swordfish with salsa, but we thought they wouldn't go that well with the spicy salsa, so we turned them into a starter instead, and I'm really glad we did, because this was a dish that could, and should, stand on its own. This is also a smart way of adding vegetables to a meal where you can't really fit them in anywhere else; serve it as a starter, like we did. Or serve these on bruschetta to a pre-dinner cocktail. Or eat them as a light lunch.

"Recipe"

The core here is simple: boiled vegetables. The trick is simply to treat them lovingly: put your vegetables in a pot with plenty of lightly salted water, bring to a boil and simmer until they've got just the right consistency. They should still have some bite, but not be raw in any way. Once boiled, pour the vegetables into a colander, then let them steam dry on a kitchen towel.

Afterwards, dress them simply. We cleared some butter and dressed them with that, a bit of lemon juice, some salt and pepper. You could also use butter without bothering with clearing it, or olive oil, or cold pressed rapeseed oil. You could substitute vinegar for the lemon juice, you could add herbs or other spices. Simply put: treat them like salad.

We boiled small carrots, tiny little asparagus spears and some broccoli. Be mindful of the different boiling times your vegetables will need: add the carrots first, then after a few minutes the broccoli, and so on. Poke them with a fork, or even pick up a piece and eat it to find out when they're done. Simple as that, just give them a bit of love, and they'll give you more back.

You could make this with pretty much any vegetable that you think sounds good: carrots, beets, broccoli, cauliflower, zucchini, mangold, spinach, asparagus, small onions, pretty much anything you find at the greengrocer's. This time of year, fresh vegetables are quickly popping up all over, and they are so full of taste. Try this, and let yourself be amazed at the lovely flavours one can coax out of them with so little effort.

Lazy Sunday Breakfast

2008-05-27T14:43:00.007+02:00

When we lived in Sweden, Daniel would almost always go out to buy breakfast on Sunday mornings, usually coming back with yoghurt, fruit, fresh bread, cream cheese and juice. In the summer, we would have breakfast on the balcony, listening to the birds sing, while enjoying copious amounts of strong, black coffee, trying to decide what to do that day. We would usually end up taking a walk on Farstanäset, a small peninsula quite close to where we lived, often with his parents' dogs coming along.

Since moving to Munich, Sunday mornings have mostly consisted of both of us waking up in good spirits (or after, for that matter), soon to realise that it is Sunday and all the supermarkets are closed, putting a damper on our good mood. You would think we would have learnt this after eight (for him) and four (for me) months here, but no. Since we go to the grocery store once a day, we never shop for days to come. This usually works pretty well, except on Saturdays.

We are slowly coming to terms with the outrage that is Germany's love for ridiculous laws, and last weekend we actually started the Sunday breakfast the night before. For almost a whole week, I had been craving English Muffins with lemon curd, but since they are something I associate with weekends only, I had to wait. Luckily for me, Daniel suggested we make some for Sunday breakfast.

We had some rhubarb compote and crumbles (which i toasted in the frying pan) left over from the rhubarb crumble pie we made the day before, and combined with honey and orange flavoured yoghurt it was really lovely, and together with the English Muffins it made a perfect Sunday breakfast. If you don't have rhubarb compote or left over crumbles, use whatever fruit/berries you like, and toast some almonds or hazelnuts instead.

English Muffins, swiped from Winos and Foodies

Ingredients
2 teaspoons dried yeast granules (I used half a cube of fresh yeast, 20 - 25 grams)
1/2 teaspoon sugar
250ml warm water
125ml warm milk
350g high grade flour
100g standard flour
1 teaspoon salt
rice flour or fine cornmeal

Instructions
Put the yeast and sugar in a small bowl with half the warm water. (Note: If using fresh yeast, break it into small pieces and use lukewarm (37 °C) water instead.) Stir and set aside for a few minutes (Note: no waiting involved with the fresh yeast), then add the remaining water and the milk.
Put the flour and salt in a large bowl and use your hand to mix in the yeast, water and milk mixture. Knead the mixture which will be sticky, thoroughly in the bowl (or use the dough hook of an electric mixer).
Cover the bowl with a damp tea towel and set aside to rise until more than doubled in bulk. Although this may take only a couple of hours, the dough can be allowed to rise overnight. Deflate the dough by pulling it away from the sides of the bowl. Lift it out of the bowl and divide into 8 pieces.
Drop each piece on to a tray liberally dusted with rice flour or fine cornmeal and roll them over until well coated.
Form each piece into a thick disc.
Place the disks on a baking tray and place another tray on top.
Leave to rest and rise 20 minutes, then remove top tray.
Place a cast iron griddle or large frying pan over low heat.
When only moderately hot place four of the muffins on it and cook for about ten minutes until light beige on the bottom.
Turn the muffins over and cook the second side for a similar length of time.
Wrap the cooked muffins in a dry tea towel while you cook the remaining four.
Pull apart and eat while still warm.
For toasting pull the muffins apart and toast on both sides.

---

Lemon Curd, swiped from Tartelette
Grated zest of 1 lemon
1 cup strained lemon juice
1/2 cup sugar
2 eggs

Combine the zest, sugar, juice in a saucepan, and bring to a simmer.
In a small bowl, beat the eggs until light.
Beat some of the lemon mixture into the eggs to temper. Scrape the mixture back into the saucepan and cook stirring constantly until it thickens up, about 5 minutes.
Strain and refrigerate, covered with plastic wrap until ready to use.

Up North Goes Down South: Sugar High Friday #43 - Citrus

2008-05-25T14:24:00.009+02:00

Even though I don't bake frequently (that's usually Angelica's department), I never miss a post at Tartelette. The beautiful photography and personal writing style makes it an all-time favourite of mine. It also helps that Helen has a love bordering on obsession with citrus, mirroring my own feelings toward those magnificent fruits, so when she announced that Sugar High Friday #43 would have citrus as it's theme, I almost squealed. Me and Angelica had only days earlier reached the conclusion that we should participate in a blogging event, and if there ever was a sign from above, this was it.

For those not in the know regarding food blogging events, Sugar High Friday is the child of Jennifer at The Domestic Goddess, and works like this: every SHF has a host, who decides a theme, and all participants must simply make a dessert on the specified theme and blog about it before a deadline. The entries are then lined up in an (usually almost endless) entry on the host's blog, where you can then find all the inspiration you ever wanted regarding the theme.

Anybody who has ever been to Sweden knows what a Norway Spruce (Picea abies) looks like. It's a beautiful conifer, growing tall and straight, and together with the Scots Pine (Pinus sylvestris), it defines the Swedish forest. Lovely enough on their own, these trees are also good news: wherever there is a pine forest, there's also bilberries. We shall return to those at a later occasion, today we focus on the trees.

Racking our brains about tastes to go with citrus, our thoughts turned towards conifers. It is a well known fact that citrus fruits are best friends with dry gin, which is flavoured with juniper berries, and has a distinct conifer flavour. With this thought in place, spruce immediately came to mind. One of those things that every Swede knows, but which is uncommon knowledge abroad, is that spruce shoots are edible. Lovely soft and light green, picking and eating the shoots straight off the tree is an almost mandatory part of a spring walk in the woods. Both of us also have fond memories of chewing the needles from christmas trees (not actually eating them, mind you, just extracting the tastes and discarding the needle itself).

Edit: Angelica points out that the last paragraph made it sound like I was involved in the idea of using the spruce, but that was actually all her. I came up with the actual implementation, see next paragraph. Oh, the joys of collective blogging...

So, the decision was made: spruce and citrus it would be. I suggested that we could modify Angelica's Italian lemon/mint sorbet, hands down my favourite ice cream recipe. The modification was simple enough, we would just infuse the syrup with spruce instead of mint.

Now all we needed was some spruce. We hadn't thought of that as a potential problem, well used to hardly being able to turn around quickly without ramming our heads into a spruce tree, but this is Munich, not Stockholm, and instead of tall, dark spruce trees, light green beeches line the streets. Luckily, I live a mere stone's throw from the Englischer Garten, which is lovingly planted with the most varied flora. A twenty minute search turned out fruitful, and we returned home with a couple of spruce twigs and some shoots.

Since we don't have an ice cream machine, the sorbet turned into more of a granita, but aim for sorbet, it will be smooth and wonderful in every way. This is a light sorbet, perfect for the porch or balcony on a warm summer day. To big up the conifer flavour, we added a shot of gin, which was quite good. If you don't want alcohol in the finished product, add the gin to the water when making the syrup, and let the alcohol boil off.

The spruce aroma was subtle and combined deliciously with the citrus. We felt that it was a tad slight, but for those not used to chewing the needles, it's probably just right as the recipe stands. We also tried serving the granita slightly melted with a splash of Limoncello, and it turned into a lovely summer drink, reminiscent of a frozen daiquiri.

Citrus and Spruce Sorbet

150 ml water
150 g sugar
150 ml full fat milk
150 ml mixed citrus juice (we used lemon and lime)
40 ml dry gin
25 g spruce twigs
spruce shoots for decoration

Tear the needles from the spruce twigs, don't worry if a bit of the bark comes along with them. Roughly chop the needles up with a knife to open them out and let the aroma out. Combine water, sugar and spruce needles in a small saucepan and bring to a boil. Let simmer for about two minutes, then remove from heat, add spruce twigs, and let cool to room temperature. When cool, sieve the syrup into a bowl, add milk, gin and citrus juice and whisk together. Run mixture in an ice cream machine for 20-30 minutes, until it's frozen into a smooth mixture. Serve in bowls, or in cocktail glasses with a splash of limoncello, and decorate with a spruce shoot.

Locally Produced

2008-05-21T19:13:00.007+02:00

One interesting thing about Munich is how despite being a rather large city, it manages to maintain a connection to Bavaria's agricultural roots. From the weekly farmer's markets to the semi-permanent stands at the Viktualienmarkt, local produce is never far away.

Munich also has a very large city park (the second largest in Europe, and bigger indeed than the Central Park in New York), called Englischer Garten (the English Garden). Very popular with the residents, a lush and beautiful park crossed by man-made streams, shaded by beautiful trees and with a generous amount of open fields, the Englischer Garten can become quite crowded on a sunny day. The park is divided into two parts, the southern, more park-like, stretching from the city centre to northern Schwabing, and the northern part, more forest than park, stretching out to the limits of Studentenstadt, where it passes some 50 meters from my home.

The northern part of the park, while lacking beer gardens, has some other very nice things to offer. There is a small area where hobbyist beekeepers keep their buzzing insects, and where you can buy delicious honey for €4,50 a jar. It doesn't get more locally produced than that, and as if that wasn't reason enough to buy, the beekeepers are organized in an association that adheres to even higher standards regarding water content in the honey than EU law requires.

Another interesting thing about the northern part of the garden is that instead of mowing the lawns, the park keepers allow a shepherd to herd his sheep on the lawns, thus keeping the grass low, reducing waste, and fertilizing the lawns all at once. A very nice type of organic gardening, and the sheep and their lambs are just lovely. Look at this little fellow for instance:

How cute is that? And don't he/she just look delicious?

Alpine Procrastination

2008-05-13T17:13:00.004+02:00

This Monday was Whit Monday (or Pentecost Monday), a religious holiday that not even Wikipedia seems to know why we observe. At any rate, it's a national holiday in Germany, so it would have been the perfect time for me to catch up with some food blogging.

I have to admit, dear readers, that I failed you. I went hiking in Oberstdorf instead, and to be honest, it was worth it. Oberstdorf is situated in the southwest corner of Bavaria, only a few miles from the Austrian border. I had a wonderful day, walking some 4 hours downhill (did I mention I was feeling lazy?), surrounded by a beautiful mixed forest of spruce and beech trees, and with breathtaking views of the snow-capped mountains.

I did think of the food blogging aspect of the trip, of course, so I unselfishly sacrificed myself for your sake, and took a 10 minute detour to buy a Brotzeit (literally bread time, a Bavarian term for an afternoon snack/meal) in a small mountain hut that produced their own Allgäuer Bergkäse (Allgäuish mountain cheese).

The Brotzeit consisted of a couple of slices of bread, generously coated with butter of their own production, some slices of their Bergkäse, some local bacon, and of course a local brew. It was delicious, and looked like this:

And when I raised my eyes from my food, I could see this:

So, I had a very nice Whit Monday. I hope you did too.