Buttermilk Ranch 04/17/2009
 

I used to think that Ranch dressing was something that only came in a bottle. The idea of making my own at home never crossed my mind. At the very least, you had to buy a packet of “ranch dressing mix” and combine it with mayonnaise and buttermilk. Until recently it never occurred to me that the contents of the packet were spices that I could combine myself at home.

Because this recipe uses fresh herbs it tastes better than bottled dressing. And because it uses yogurt to replace half the mayonnaise it’s healthier than ranch dressing. It’s so easy to make, you’ll never buy the stuff in a bottle again. 


You will need:
  • 1/3 cup buttermilk
  • 1/3 cup greek-style yogurt
  • 3 tablespoons mayonnaise
  • ½ tablespoon lemon juice
  • ½ tablespoon Dijon mustard
  • ½ teaspoon onion powder
  • ½ teaspoon garlic powder
  • 2 tablespoons chopped fresh chives
  • 2 tablespoons chopped fresh dill
  
Mix all ingredients together. Serve. Extra dressing will keep in the fridge for at least 2 weeks. 

 
 

In my estimation, there’s no reason to ever buy salad dressing in a bottle from the store. Not only is it easy to make salad dressing at home, it’s often healthier, it tastes better, and it’s much cheaper.

Let’s take a look at a few common dressings. Today we'll make he easiest one to put together, and the one that I use most frequently: vinaigrette.  To make basic vinaigrette you’ll need three ingredients: oil, acid, and emulsifier.

The oil is easy: olive, canola, sesame, peanut, soy, etc. If you’re using a strongly flavored oil such as sesame, consider mixing it with a neutral oil like canola.

For the acid, I typically use vinegar or citrus juice. You can use any type of vinegar – balsamic, wine, rice, or whatever your favorite is. I also like to make flavored vinegar by microwaving a few tablespoons of plain white distilled vinegar or rice vinegar with a teaspoon or two of dried herbs for 15 seconds. Let it cool completely, strain, and Presto! You have tarragon (or oregano, or whatever) vinegar.

An emulsifier is a substance that holds fat and water together. When making salad dressing, the ones you’ll typically use are egg yolk, mustard, or honey.

To make the vinaigrette, mix 3 parts oil with 1 part acid and about ½ part emulsifier. For 2 servings, you’ll want to make about 4 tablespoons total, so use 3 tablespoons of oil, 1 tablespoon of vinegar, and 1 or 2 teaspoons of emulsifier. Whisk it all together. If the mixture appears to be separating, add more emulsifier and whisk some more.

If you like you can add other flavoring agents like minced herbs or spices, but you don’t have to. Add salt and pepper to taste, then toss with your greens and serve.

Note: if you’re leery of using raw egg yolk, you can coddle it to reduce the risk of food poisoning. Bring a small pot of water to boil, then put the whole egg in the water for 30 seconds. Remove with a slotted spoon, crack, and use your fingers to separate out the yolk. It will not be cooked through, but it will be slightly safer. You should also choose the freshest, most local eggs you can get your hands on. I use Steibr’s Farm Organic Cage-Free eggs, which are local to Seattle.

 Tomorrow: Buttermilk Ranch! It’s delicious, and made with yogurt! 


 
 

I'm starting a new feature here at Emily's Hot Dish. Guest Chef Mondays: Wherein I Convince Other People To Do The Blogging For Me. Our inaugural guest chef is my dad, George. He stayed at home with my brother and I while my mom went to work, so I grew up leaning to cook from him. My earliest memory is sitting on the kitchen counter while he cooked dinner, watching as he added things to the pots on the stove. At the time it seemed like alchemy; he has the wonderful skill of being able to go into a fridge that others find nothing worth eating in and 30 minutes later there's a delicious meal on the table. Chickpeas and blueberries in a salad? Oddly delicious. 


He writes: 


OMG!  TBO!  . . . NSM.

I was reading through the March issue of Esquire a couple of weeks back when I turned to page 106 and actually said to myself, “Oh Em Gee, Tee Bee Oh.”  There was a picture of a stack of Banana Bread French Toast. My mother, Emily’s grandmother, the home-ec teacher, mom of the 50s and no-nonsense Midwestern cook had a failsafe recipe for banana bread that she passed to me.  If you’ve got buttermilk and at least three old bananas, you’re in pig heaven.  She said it was really banana cake but if you called it banana bread you could eat more of it.  Practical, my mother.  So, I like banana bread. 

And I like French toast.  All the better since A) we came across the Cooks’ Illustrated version of French toast dip with milk, sugar, and egg, of course, but also melted butter, flour, and vanilla, and B) we decided to (actually, Emily suggested that we) make it with Italian panettone instead of bread.  This is not difficult living in Italy, as we do, and makes really amazing French toast. 

But not like in the Esquire picture.  I mean, French toast made of banana bread?  With syrup and lemon-flavored sour cream on top?  It just screams “TBO”. 

When we lived in Germany our family friend Trudy was visiting us.  A day with her was like three with a mere mortal.  She made things funnier, events more significant, and life more special.  We were cooking, talking, and recording a tape to her brother who was out at sea and we got to the chocolate soufflé portion of the evening.  It came out rather well and upon the first mouthful Trudy exclaimed, “Oh. My. God.  Major TBO.” 

An Army major?  Time Between Overhauls?  I must have looked puzzled as she translated:  “TBO? -- Taste Bud Orgasm.”

Ahhhhh, it made perfect sense.  The soufflé met the description so much so that we decided we should really make another just to prove the first wasn’t a mistake.  And the term entered our family’s lexicon. 

And seemed to fit the concept of Banana Bread French Toast.  I mean, what’s not to like?   Bananas, walnuts, butter and sugar, then everything French-toasty, then syrup and then sour cream whipped with lemon zest. .  .  the sum just had to be better than the parts, and all of the parts were really good to start. 

Plus, it was an Esquire recipe. Esquire is a men’s magazine but not a “cheesecake mag.”  It has more pictures of male Italian models wearing $3000 suits without socks than any undressed women.  But it does do one thing well every so often: recipes that appeal to guys. 

Which is why I thought I’d give the Banana Bread French Toast a try.  So we did.  Karine and Stuart, our upstairs neighbors, were having Eva and Jose over and Stuart’s sister was visiting so we thought it was a perfect opportunity to test-drive a new recipe.  They are friends that deserve something really special but will laugh and forgive you if it’s a spectacular failure.

And it was good.  Really good.  But not great.  Banana-y, walnutty, French toasty, sour creamy?  Yup, all those things.  Did the masses clamor for more?  You bet they did, and demanded the recipe, too. 

But OMG, TBO?  Not So Much. 

A lot of flavor there, but somehow it didn’t all come together.  It didn’t seem as if we’d done it wrong, it just seemed like there were a lot of separate flavors on the plate.  Good.  OK, very good.  But not great. 

Maybe we just expected too much. 

Give it a try and see what you think. 

 Helen’s Banana Bread
½ Cup butter
1 Cup sugar
2 well beaten eggs
3 mashed bananas
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ Cup buttermilk
2 Cups sifted flour
½ Cup chopped pecans or walnuts(or not)

**********************************************

Cream together butter and sugar.  Add eggs and bananas and blend. 

Add and blend the buttermilk

Sift together flour and soda

Add banana cream and blend.

Pour into floured loaf pan.

350 degrees Fahrenheit for 1 hour. 

The top should be brown and cracking, the sides should be just starting to pull away.  Test center with spaghetti at 50 minutes.  It should come out bone dry when done. 

French Toast Batter
1 egg
2 TSP melted butter
¾ Cup milk
1 TBS Vanilla Extract
2 TBS Sugar
1/3 Cup flour
Pinch salt

*****************************************

Beat egg.  Whisk in butter, milk, vanilla, sugar, flour, and salt.

Do not refrigerate, trust me on this.  The butter solidifies, separates out, clumps up, and ruins your morning.  

Just heat your pan (cast iron or pancake griddle), butter it, turn to medium heat, and fry your toast.  First, of course, soak your bread for a couple of seconds.  The original recipe suggests you soak it for 30 seconds or more.  That assumes you are using a yeast bread that has some tensile strength.  Banana bread, however, is a heavy cake that when wet, tends to fall apart easily.  Dip it with your whole hand and remove it using your spread fingers to support the entire slice.  Once it’s on the griddle, you’re OK. 

The Esquire Suggestion

Before frying the toast, whip some sour cream with the zest of a lemon or two.  Esquire claims that artificial (Mrs. Butterworth’s) syrup is better in that it is thicker on the toast and plate.  Real syrup is thinner and soaks in.  This is, of course, heresy, foolish, and totally wrong.  And with all these flavors on the plate maybe it’s just possible that you couldn’t tell the difference, but why take the chance? 

Toast on the warm plate, a dollop of lemony sour cream, and syrup over everything. 

If you’re serving it to guests, pretend you do this all the time. 

If you're interested in Guest Cheffing, leave a comment or shoot me an email. All are welcome. 

 
 

One of my favorite things about living in London was the food. This surprises most people when I tell them, but it’s true! There has been a revolution in British cooking over the last generation and it’s no longer tough, overcooked meat alongside mushy, flavorless vegetables. In many English homes you’re as likely to find a curry for dinner as you are bangers and mash. The English also make incredible soups and sandwiches – I loved going into Marks and Sparks or Pret A Manger to pick out a sandwich for lunch. What incredible choices! I don’t know who first thought cheese and chutney would be delicious together, but it was a stroke of genius.

A few years ago my parents were making their annual pilgrimage to London and my mom asked what she could get for me. I asked for a soup cookbook because I’ve always loved the ready-made soup in the grocery stores there and I was eager to try some of the flavor combinations myself here at home. She returned with The Soup Bible, which I’ve been using regularly ever since.

This recipe is heavily adapted from the version in the book. 


You will need:
  • 1 leek
  • 2 carrots
  • 1 jalapeno or Serrano pepper
  • small knob fresh ginger
  • 2 cloves garlic
  • 1 cup frozen peas (not pictured - oops)
  • 3 ounces by weight smooth almond butter
  • 1 cup fresh cilantro, packed medium and rinsed well
  • 2 cups chicken broth
  • ½ cup half-and-half or cream
  • chicken thigh or breast - between 4 and 8 ounces 

Specialty cookware:
  • Microplane grater
  • Food processor

Begin by cutting up your vegetables. Leeks can be a bit sandy, so you’ll want to wash it out. The best way I’ve seen to do this is to first cut the dark green from the light green and white part, then to make two long cuts 1 inch from the root end toward the top. You should end up with long strips of leek attached at the root. Holding the root end UP, rinse the leek under running water to make sure any sand or dirt are removed. If you hold the root end down the water will drive any dirt between the layers. After washing cut the leek into ½ inch pieces. 

Rinse the carrots, then cut off the top and bottom and discard. There is no need to peel the carrot as long as it’s been washed. Cut each carrot in half longitudinally, then into narrow 1/8” half-moons.

Cut the top and bottom off the pepper, then slice it in half longitudinally. Using a paring knife, remove the seeds and ribs and discard. It might be a good idea to wear gloves while handling and cutting the pepper. Once I cut up a jalapeno without gloves then rubbed my eye. It hurt so much I contemplated pulling my eye out as a way to stop the burning. Slice each half into matchsticks, then rotate 90 degrees and cut into fine dice.

Using the microplane, grate a knob of ginger about half the size of your thumb. There is no need to peel the ginger first. You should have somewhere in the neighborhood of 1 teaspoon of grated ginger.

Mince the garlic and measure out 1 cup of frozen peas. 

In a saucepan, melt the butter. When the pan is hot and the butter is bubbling, add the leeks, carrots, ginger, and pepper. Cook for 3-5 minutes or until the leeks and carrots are moderately soft. Add the garlic and 4 ounces of almond butter and stir. Cook for 1-2 minutes more. 

While the leek mixture is cooking, cut your chicken into small pieces. 

When the leek mixture is soft and smells delicious, scrape it into a food processor fitted with a steel blade. Add the cilantro to the mixture and process until everything is in very very small bits and is an even consistency. 

Meanwhile, put the pieces of chicken into your saucepan and put the lid on. Cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until the chicken is cooked through.

Scrape down the sides of the food processor. Replace the lid and add the chicken broth through the feed tube in an even stream while the processor is running. Turn it off once all the chicken broth is incorporated.

Tip: most feed tubes have a hollow plunger with a hole in the bottom. Leave the plunger in the feed tube and pour the broth into the plunger. It will come out the hole in the bottom in a steady stream. 

Tip: Use a Sharpie to mark on the chicken broth carton how much is remaining. Because this carton holds 4 cups and I used 2, I know that there are 2 cups remaining. Then remember to put the leftover chicken broth in the fridge, because you’ll feel dumb if you come downstairs in the morning and you’ve left the carton of chicken broth you so carefully marked out on the counter all night long. Not that I would know anything about that. 

Once the chicken is cooked, pour the contents of the food processor back into the saucepan, taking care not to dump the blade into the pan and splash soup all over yourself. Not that I’ve done that or anything.

Bring the soup back up to a simmer, stirring frequently. When the soup is hot, remove from the heat and stir in the cream or half-and-half. Ladle into bowls and garnish with cilantro. Serves 3. 

To vegetarianize: replace the chicken broth with vegetable broth or water. Omit chicken or replace with fake chicken.

To veganize: replace butter with olive oil. Replace chicken broth with vegetable broth or water. Omit chicken. Omit cream.

To kosherize: Replace butter with olive oil. Omit cream. Use kosher chicken and chicken broth. 



This recipe is my entry for the April 2009 Hobo Monday over at Thursday Night Smackdown. It can be made for $2.22/serving. For more a more detailed cost breakdown, please read this post

 
 

These mashed potatoes are everything that a mashed potato should be: fluffy, smooth, creamy, and starchy with a slight tang and buttery richness. I started making them several years ago for a Cook's Illustrated Thanksgiving (this is a traditional Thanksgiving where all the food is made from Cook's Illustrated recipes) and now it’s the only way we ever have mashed potatoes. The recipe is easily scalable so you can make a lot or just enough for two. It reheats well, so I always make enough for leftovers. If you’re making a large and complex meal, you can easily make this ahead and keep it warm in a crock-pot. 


You will need: 
  ● 1 pound potatoes
  ● ⅓ cup buttermilk
  ● 3 T butter
  ● salt

Specialty cookware: 
  ● standing mixer with paddle attachment
  ●potato ricer

The best potatoes for this are Yukon Gold. If you can't find those, another medium-starch potato will be fine. Avoid high-starch potatoes like Russets (traditional "baking potato" potatoes).

Begin by placing a large pot of salted water on the stove. Do not boil the water yet. First, peel and dice the potatoes into 1" pieces. Place the potatoes into the cold water and turn the heat to high. 

While the potatoes are boiling, melt the butter. When it is melted, slowly whisk in the buttermilk. It's ok if the cold buttermilk causes the butter to harden into little bits. Set this mixture aside. 

Boil the potatoes until they are cooked through, about 18 minutes. You will know the potatoes are done when they break apart when a paring knife is inserted. Drain the potatoes in a colander. 

Place your potato ricer over the bowl of your stand mixer. Fill the ricer with cooked potato pieces, then press them through. Repeat until all the potato pieces have been riced. 

Pour the buttermilk/butter mixture over the riced potatoes. Fit your mixer with the paddle attachment and mix the potatoes and dairy until homogenous and fluffy. Serve piping hot. 

 
 

Cauliflower is one of my favorite vegetables. It has a subtle, slightly nutty flavor and really does well in the oven. Because it’s fairly neutral, it’s easy to pair with other flavors. Here I’m tossing it with smoked paprika, but you could just as easily use curry powder, garam masala, minced garlic, or really any spice that you want. I buy my smoked paprika from World Spice Merchants. If you can’t find it at your local grocery store, you can buy it online. It tastes quite different from normal (Hungarian) paprika. It has a lovely smoky flavor that has depth and interest. Try using it on deviled eggs or dusted on top of creamy soup! 


You will need:
  • 1 head of cauliflower
  • 1 tablespoon olive oil
  • 1 tablespoon smoked paprika

Begin by cutting the cauliflower into bite-size pieces. The easiest way to do this is to turn the head upside down and cut each floret off the stem, then cut each floret into smaller pieces. 

Place all the pieces of cauliflower in a bowl and drizzle the olive oil over the top. Use your hands to toss the cauliflower so that each piece is coated in oil. 

Sprinkle the smoked paprika over the cauliflower. Use your hands and toss so that each floret is coated in paprika. 

Spread the cauliflower into a single layer on a sheet pan lined with aluminum foil. Sprinkle with salt. Bake in a 375° oven for 30 minutes or until tender.