Aebleskiver

We love having guests out for the weekend. Steve is extrememly accomplished in the breakfast baked-goods category, thanks to those years running our B&B here in East Hampton, Georgica Bend. He hasn't written his tell-all memoir yet, though he's got the title ready: "Yesterday's Muffins."

So who doesn't love hot pancakes, or a toasty waffle, perhaps rich and eggy French toast or the elegant crepe? No one, of course, but then again, though those are scrumptious, always welcome and appreciated, when the occasion merits a little dazzle, nothing beats the Aebleskiver.

"The what?" you may ask.

Here's the story. As kids we'd go on family ski vacations, now this is really back in the day, circa 1970 or so. Unquestionably our favorite place was Aspen's Christiania Lodge. We'd pile into our cabin (there are five of us brothers) after a day on the slopes, Dad would grill steaks on the deck while we skittered down the snowy, icy path to plunge into the well-heated outdoor pool -- a miracle of modern engineering.

But oh, the breakfasts! Served family style in the main lodge. I'm sure the proprietors, a reserved Scandinavian couple, shuddered when they saw us tromping in, the guests already enjoying breakfast undoubtedly grateful for their headstarts.

We fortified ourselves for the day with yet another wonder -- a perfectly spherical pancake studded with apples. The Aebleskiver. As round as and the same size as a tennis ball. Dusted with powdered sugar, then slathered with butter and heavily dosed with syrup.

Poor Mrs. Chritiania or whatever her name might have been -- we ate until she either ran out of batter or gave in to exhaustion.

Mom bought an Aebleskiver pan there, blue enameled cast iron. Back home, once in a blue moon, perhaps Easter or some other special day, she take down the pan which was decoratively hung against the blue checked wallpaper of the kitchen, and dedicate herself to the considerable feat of an Aebleskiver breakfast. These pans make just seven Aebleskivers at a time. Mrs. Christiania no doubt had mulitples and I actually have two, sadly not the iconic blue original, another brother must have snagged that one at some point. No matter, the pans aren't hard to find.

This dish merits Spectacularly Delicious status on three key points: the need for specialized equipment, the wow factor ("How can they be so perfectly round? Have you ever seen such a thing?"), and they are truly wonderful. Round, browned and fluffy and puffy, almost souffle-like inside. Nothing quite like them that I'm aware of.

Happily, I do have a xerox of Mom's hand-copied recipe passed on from the Christiania. It's really not so hard -- just requires a little attention. Worth it!

Aebleskivers - Christiania of Aspen

2 cups buttermilk

2 cups flour

3 eggs, separated

2 t. baking powder

1/2 t. salt

1/2 t. baking soda

2 T. sugar

4 T. melted butter

1 Granny Smith or other tart apple, peeled, sliced into very thin wedges no more than 1/2" - 3/4" long

Vegetable oil to brush the pan.

First place the Aebleskiver pan on medium heat. Put a baking sheet in the oven at 275, this is where you'll stockpile the 'skivers until you're ready to serve.

Beat egg whites 'til stiff.

Thoroughly mix the other ingredients (except the veg oil). You want the batter to be on the thin side, so that it pours rather than drops out in blobs. If needed, add milk a little at time -- you're not going for watery. Lastly, fold in the beaten whites.

The pan should now be evenly heated. Brush each hemi-spherical indentation (from here on I'm calling these the bowls, it's just easier) with the oil, make sure to get all around the sides. Pour in 1/4 cup of batter in each, which should just come to the top of the bowl. There should be a little sizzle when the batter hits the pan.

The technique: keep your eye on the batter around the edges of the bowl. They will develop a ring of bubbles like a pancake would. When those bubbles start to break, take a skewer (the original Christiania recipe called for a knitting needle -- quaint, right?) and stick it in so it grabs the cooked side touching the pan and rotate it up 90 degrees, so you have half of the ball rising straight up from the pan. The batter inside will flow down and refill the bowl. Cook a bit more, watching the bubbles, then skewer them all the way over. You now have perfectly round balls in each bowl. For another minute or so, use the skewer to spin them around, evenly browning them and giving time to cook the centers through. Batter-in to Aebleskiver-out takes about 2 to 2 1/2 minutes, tops. Into the oven with batch number one and do it all again, making sure to oil the bowls well each time. This recipe makes 35 Aebleskivers.

Serve hot with butter and maple syrup. You needn't get any fancier than that -- blueberries will stain the exteriors of the Aebleskivers and really anything else would also detract from the admittedly odd but cute balls.

I just Googled the Christiania, evidently the place has been built up into luxury condos. Though the original has given way to the inevitable march of progress, the small yet mighty Aebleskiver lives on.

Remnants to Rapture: Crepes a la Orange

I didn't set out to make a tried and true recipe last night, what happened is just a reminder that sometimes the makings of a spectacular dessert can be rustled up with a search through the freezer and pantry.

When Mom was here this summer, she whipped up a wonderful breakfast of crepes. Our good French crepe pan provided even browning and uniformity in size -- a little harder to accomplish with a regular skillet. Leftovers tightly wrapped and stored in the freezer.

In high school, I worked at The Magic Pan -- anyone remember it? My title was "Crepe Assembler." A cute girl in a dirndle was positioned in the dining room in the center of this large carousel of crepe pans. She'd batter up each pan, they'd ride around the cooking track encircling her, upon return she'd stack 'em up and pass through a tile-framed window into our assembly kitchen. Important lesson learned: crepes are surprisingly durable and stack and store easily. Anyway, one assembly line was the savories: spinach souffle, beef bourginon, Seafood St. Jacques (shrimp, real crab and scallops). The other line was the sweets: ripe peeled peaches soaking in ginger ale (don't judge, it's a neat trick), strawberries macerated in brown sugar, ice cream with freshly made chocolate fudge, chocolate mint and mocha sauce. The rolled savories were dressed with a band of sauce or cheese, the sweet crepes topped with the sweet sauces (save the fruit crepes, which were dressed with freshly whipped cream post-browning), savories and sweets alike into the hot salamander to finish. Then crepes back through the window and delivered with edges crisped, sauces bubbling.

So back to last night: crepes resuscitated from the freezer, folded into triangles then browned in butter. Home-canned orange conserve (marmalade style, candied rinds in thick sweet orange sauce) poured over, everything brought up to a good simmer. A final flambe with Hennesey: 1/4 C. heated in microwave for 20 seconds first, carefully ignited, gently poured into pan, flames admired 'til they died down, then spooned it all onto pretty dessert plates. A final dollop of whipped cream would have been very Magic Pan, but alas no cream on hand. No matter: quick, simple, unexpected, unique, the drama of the flambe -- spectacularly delicious.

If there's a moral to this story, it's crepes in the freezer are a good insurance policy; home-canned sauces save the day time and again; flambe is easy and always a crowd pleaser, and improvisation needn't equal compromise.

Melon - Peach - Pignoli Jam

If you're going to take on home canning as a hobby, which I strongly encourage, the key is to ferret out or develop unique recipes, interesting combinations. Yes farmstand fresh strawberry jam has timeless appeal, but something like this -- a melon and pine nut jam -- isn't something you'll find in stores and is a very luscious combination.

Perhaps it would be logical to go about this in a more organized fashion, collecting all my interesting jelly, jam, pickle, relish and mustard recipes in a group. However, melons are in their last flush of the season and getting this jam into the jar is too important. Made a great batch this weekend. Original recipe is from a British book "Clearly Delicious" -- I've substituted pignoli instead of the original call for slivered almonds. Toasted lightly, they add deeper, more distinct nuttiness. And the Brit version says to go it alone without commercial pectin, which gives looser, more liquid results than I like, so I add in a pouch of Certo to thicken things up.


Keep in mind that home canning sugar- or acid-heavy fruits and vegs doesn't come close to the perils of processing meats, fish, low-acid produce. That's pressure canner stuff. Easily sterilized jars (boiling water or sani-cycle in the dishwasher or hand wash then dry in a 250 degree oven) and lids (just simmer in a pan) and a quick 10 minute boiling water bath when the jars are filled is so easy. Takes more thought to write it out than to actually do it.

A really good, large copper confiture pan produces excellent results for fruit preserves. Obvs copper isn't good for high acid concoctions, you'll want enameled cast iron for that.

Melon - Peach - Pignoli Jam.

2 lbs. fresh, peeled, roughly chopped peaches
2 lbs. really ripe cantalope, chopped into 1/2 - 1 inch pieces (they kind of break down in the cooking)

Cover in a non-reactive bowl with 7 cups of sugar, let stand overnight.

Bring all to a nice hard boil for 20 minutes. Add a pinch of ground ginger and 3 T. lemon juice. Stir to keep from scorching. After 20 minutes, things should be pretty syrupy. Add one pouch of Certo and keep it at a full on boil for another minute. Remove pan from heat, skim off any foam that might have developed.

Stir in 1 cup lightly toasted pine nuts.

Ladle into 10 sterilized 8 oz. jelly jars, seal and process.

If the pine nuts aren't evenly distributed when you take them from the water bath, let them sit til you hear to pop of the top as the jars cool (which means the seal has set), then turn the jars over for 5 - 10 minutes and the nuts will migrate up through the jars so that when you turn them right side up again, and the jam has thickened more, the nuts will float throughout the jam.

A Word About Roast Chicken

The world is certainly not lacking for roast chicken recipes. Whatever the herbs and spices, rubs with lemon juice, olive oil and/or butter, we've found unparalled results with the vertical roaster. Crisp crisp skin all the way around, top to bottom. Roasts evenly. Try it!

Black Paella, a.k.a. Paella Negra

I've always had a weakness for foods and recipes that have proper names: Bouillabasse, Croquembouche, Ropa Vieja, Kugelhopf Surprise, Oysters Rockefeller, Aebleschivers... recipes for which will be coming as we move forward. Last night was the night for Paella -- more specifically Black Paella, or Paella Negra if you're inclined to use the Spanish name. An early issue of the fabulous Saveur magazine first introduced me to this dish (alas, my copy of that issue is long gone and their website doesn't have their version posted).

A true Paella pan is necessary, and authentic, imported Spanish Paella rice is non-negotiable for this dish. A popular brand is Bomba. Paella rice, shortgrained and round, has been developed for maximum absorbency, while still maintaining individual integrity of the grains. Arborio rice is not suitable, as that variety lends itself to creamy smoothness and Paella calls for plump, individual grains. Paella Rice is much more absorbent than other rice; in fact, the ratio of rice to broth is 1 - 4, versus the 1-2 formula for our standard American long grain rice, or the 1 -3 used to produce a creamy risotto.

So, Black Paella. The secret is squid ink. If you're lucky enough to find whole, uncleaned squid to harvest your ink sacks fresh, more power to you. Nowadays squid is sold already cleaned, tentacles separated from the bodies, skins removed, heads, beaks, quills and ink sacks discarded. Luckily it's not to hard to find packets of squid ink, which work just fine.

This is a high drama dish -- black rice studded with rings of squid, surrounded by a circle of shiny black mussels. Taken to the table in the Paella pan it's been cooked in, I bet no one's seen anything quite like it, and it is really, really delicious. Black and briny, evoking the depths of the mysterious deep sea. This recipe serves four.

BLACK PAELLA - serves 4

- 1 lb cleaned squid. Cut the tentacle rings in half (four little legs per piece) and slice the body into rings

- 2 dozen scrubbed mussels

- 6 T. olive oil

- 1 shallot chopped fine

- 1 medium onion chopped fine

- 4 cloves garlic chopped fine

- 1/2 t. hot pepper flakes

- 2 large tomatoes, pulp only. (Cut tomato in half around the equator. squeeze out seeds. Rub the halves through a box grater, down to the skin, which will protect your hand from getting scraped. The result will be perfectly smooth, seedless and skinless thick fresh pulp. My beefsteaks yielded 2 cups of pulp.)

- 1 cup Spanish Paella rice

- 2 packets squid ink (4 grams each)

- 4 cups broth: 2 c. bottled clam juice, 2 c. chicken stock

- .5 gram saffron

- 2 T. chopped parsley

- saffron sea salt if you have it

Preheat oven to 425. In a sauce pan combine the clam juice, chicken stock and saffron, bring to a very low simmer, covered, and keep it at that temperature. The saffron will color and flavor the broth. Watch that it doesn't come to a full out boil.

Place the Paella pan over medium heat, slick it with the oil and saute the shallots, onion, garlic. Slowly, not too hot, don't brown, go for that translucent look. Give it a little salt and pepper, easy on the salt, since there's more saltiness to come. Takes about 10-12 minutes.

Add red pepper flakes, heat them up, then add the rice and stir around so it's coated with the oil and other stuff in the pan. Again, careful not to brown the rice. Add the squid and the tomato pulp. Cook and stir for 5 minutes, it will cook down a little, but don't worry that the tomato will not be completely absorbed.

Stir in the squid ink and evenly distribute. It's fun to see this thick black paste spread thoughout the pan. Keep stirring.

Increase heat to medium high. Add 2 cups of hot broth, stirring risotto style, until most of the liquid is absorbed by the rice.

Add the remaining 2 cups of broth, or as much as will fit into the pan. Ring the pan with the mussels. Into the hot oven, uncovered, for 15 minutes. Out of the oven and cover with foil for 10 minutes to rest. Sprinkle with a little chopped parsley, and if you have saffron sea salt, a pinch or two of those course grains as well. It's served warm from its little bit of resting time, not steaming hot.

Spectacular and very delicous -- perfect!

Note: An extra level of excess would be dollops of orange flying fish roe (Tobiko), when you want to go over the top. Worry not, the straight forward Black Paella with a sprinkling of parsley is bold and beautiful as is.