Foodie Gifts: Fudge Brownie Recipe in a Jar

This isn't the first time I gave a foodie gift in a jar.  Once when asked of what she'd like for Christmas, an aunt of mine said that she always liked "consumables."  I personally could not agree more but you could chalk that up to our small living space.  Food can make a great gift and it is inarguable a consumable.

The first year I gave gifts of tasty goodies in a jar was Christmas 2008.  Like many others, it was an economically tight year for us and I was re-evaluating our culture of consumerism.  I thought a lot about all that had been bought and wasted in our lives and our society.  I should mention also at this time Nick and I had just been married with yours truly as both bride and wedding planner.  Which means we had a ton of leftover stuff from having bought everything we needed for the wedding a'la`carte.  Things like card stock from home made invitations to silk flowers to alcohol and cocktail swizzle sticks.  Four months later we had more vodka than we reasonable could (or should) consume.  I started giving gifts of flavor infused vodka for the holidays.  Than later pickles from the vegetables from our CSA share.  I would like to think I am getting better at which kind of tasty jar is right for which kind of foodie friend.

On to the present.  After all, there are no cranberry vodkas or pickled green beans in this post.  But this year's news of my becoming an aunt has set my creative gift making gears in motion.  Making things (food or other) has always been a way in which I show affection.  So for my sister-in-law, Stacie's baby shower, I found those old party planning shoes in the back of the closet.  The ones I wore when I decided to make my own invitations, table cards and wedding favors.  The result?  Fudge Brownie mix in a jar as favors for all the guests.  I think most of us there had a fond memory of baking something sweet with a parent or grandparent.  I hoped this helped keep that tradition going.  If you don't want to make thirty they also make a nice gift for one.

Fudge Brownie Mix in a Jar

1 1/4 cup all purpose flour
1 1/4 cup sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
2/3 cup cocoa
1/2 cup chocolate chips

Affix these directions to your jar:

1.  Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

Grease and flour a 9x13inch baking pan.

2.  Empty the jar of brownie mix into a large mixing bowl,

and stir to blend. In a small mixing bowl, combine 3/4 cup

melted and cooled butter with 4 eggs, then add mixture to

brownie mix. Mix all ingredients thoroughly. Spread batter

evenly into greased baking pan.

3.  Bake for 25 to 30 minutes in preheated oven.

Cool completely in pan before cutting into squares.

Inspiration Outing #4: Guido's Burritos in Ocean City MD

Food obsessions run in my family.  Being meticulous about good ingredients and creative with flavor combinations are inclinations that live under our skin.  I have already featured a few family members on this blog and the list will probably keep growing.

Ocean City, Maryland was one of our family vacation spots growing up. My aunt and uncle owned a small hotel on the boardwalk (now a super-sized hotel with two pools and a restaurant, all due to some incredible business intuition, see Tidelands Caribbean Hotel) and we were always welcome for a visit.  My cousins kept up the tradition of family businesses on the boardwalk.  Guidos Burritos is owned by two of my cousins, Rocco Difillipo and Danny Robinson.  Let me share our delicious meal and the fabulous time we had.

Guido's is such a breath of fresh air on this strip.  I love the beach, the sun and open air, strolls on the boardwalk but not the fried food and candy that is sold everywhere.  Really the last thing that is appealing to me under the hot sun  I heavy, greasy fried food and sugary snacks.  I can't tell you how refreshing it is to come of the beach and go to a sit down restaurant with food that uses fresh ingredients and good drinks, the like of which are seen below.

Guido's serves local, craft beers as well as some pretty tasty sangria and margheritas.

Here's the menu breakdown:  Burritos and Not Burritos.  If you are choosing a burrito (which I recommend), your choices are take on themes of traditional flavor combinations and americana favorites.  For example the "Black and Blue Burrito" that features skirt steak and blue cheese.  I had a burrito that featured Maryland crabmeat and sweet corn seasoned with Old Bay.  Dare I admit that I dug my fork into everyone else's plate around the table?  That being said, another favorite was the "Blacken Shrimp Burrito"  that has a refreshing pairing of cilantro and pineapple.  

Shown are the appetizers we ordered.  The "Salsa Trio" consisted of a traditional red salsa, spicy mango salsa and a green tomatillo salsa.   Guacamole was akin to Rosa Mexicano in NY  (which is actually the only thing I would order there.)  

At the head of the table is Danny joining us for lunch.  He is like a proud papa talking about this place.  Owning your own business is something I imagine as an ultimate creation, and here we are happily celebrating it.

Dinner on the Fly: Stuffed Zucchini Boats

Zucchini here, zucchini there, zucchini, zucchini everywhere. Our local CSA is in full swing and zucchini season it is.  How many ways can I make this stuff?  What to do when your zucchini is the size of a small watermelon? Well, summer isn't all brisket and hamburgers now, is it?  I still fairly new at stuffing vegetables but this recipe is easy.  I think it is worth experimenting with, use different cheeses and herbs, maybe add a meat for something a little more filling.

Stuffed Zucchini Boats

1 large 2 small zucchini 

2 garlic cloves minced

1 onion, chopped

3 plum tomatoes, chopped

A handful of basil leaves chopped or torn

Juice of one lemon
1 cup cooked rice
1/4 to 1/2 pound feta cheese
1 tablespoon maras biberi (Turkish red pepper)
1/4 cup pitted black sundried olives
light sprinkling of sea salt
Drizzle of olive oil

Preheat your oven to 475 degrees.   Scoop out the insides of the zucchini with a spoon or melon baller. Drizzle a little olive oil inside the holllowed out zucchini.  Chop and put aside in a large bowl.  Add all remaining ingredients to the bowl with chopped zucchini and toss.  Drizzle a little more olive oil in the mixture and bake until tender.  About 35 to 45 minutes.

Community Table: Nick's Barbecue Brisket

I have never seen a man seem so perfectly in his element than my husband, Nick, grilling barbecue brisket.   Maybe grilling is the wrong word.  It is an all day barbecue, with a beer in hand.  Over the years I will admit that I have monopolized the kitchen. But on brisket day I surrender my kitchen haven and, unless specifically called upon, my nosy interjections, to Nick and his process.  If you are a regular reader of this blog, I have given you glimpses of this succulent meat, but not until now have I been able to give up the recipe.   It is only after 4, nay 5 attempts at perfection that I am allowed to document it.  Sometimes Nick's complaint is a less than perfect texture, but searching for the perfect balance of spices has also taken some time.  Nick resembles some sort of mad scientist or potion maker mixing and measuring condiments and spices.  Then it is a 6-8 hour process  of slow cooking this meat on the grill, frequently checking that the temperature doesn't get too high.  It's like Atlas holding up the sun and drinking beer with his other hand.

It all starts with a good cut of meat.  This one is from Brooklyn Kitchen.

Here you need to trim the layer of fat around your brisket until it is about 1/4 to 1/8 of an inch thick.

Nick's Slow Cooked Barbecue Brisket

• a 3 to 4 pound beef brisket
• canola oil
• apple juice

For the Dry Rub:

• 1/8 cup garlic salt
• 1 1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
• 1 tablespoon chicory coffee (like Cafe Du Monde brand)

For the Wet Rub:

• 1 1/2 tablespoon ground mustard
• 1 1/2 tablespoon Worcester Sauce

For the Wrapping Mixture:

• 1/4 cup maple syrup
• 1/4 cup brown sugar
• 2 tablespoons butter 

*The technique for this brisket is adapted from Adam Perry Lang's book Serious Barbecue.  Adam Perry Lang is owner and chef of Daisy May's BBQ.

1. Mix your seasonings in three separate bowls.  Add you wet rub to the meat and then the dry.  let sit for 1 hour.
2. Preheat your charcoal grill with a packet of hickory wood chips to 275 degrees.
3. Using your hands or a brush, evenly, but lightly coat the brisket with canola oil.  Insert a remote thermometer in the thickest part of the brisket. 
4. Put your brisket on the cooker with the fat side down.  After 2 hours, spray every hour with apple juice.   Cook until the internal temperature reaches about 165 degrees, should take 6 1/2 to 7 hours.
5. Lay out two sheets of aluminum foil (heavy duty is probably best), put you brisket on top, and pour your wrapping mixture over it.  Wrap it up securely and reinsert your thermometer.  Put back on the grill and cook until the internal temperature is 195 degrees.  Should take 2 to 2 1/2 hours.
6. Line a small cooler with an old, clean beach towel for insulation.
7. Remove your brisket form the grill and carefully unwrap over a baking dish or disposable pan, reserving the liquid.
8. Lay out 2 more sheets of aluminum foil and put your brisket on it.  Over a measuring cup, strain the reserved liquid from the baking dish through a fine mesh strainer.  Discard the solids.  Allow the fat to come to the top, pour off and then discard.  Pour the defatted liquid onto the brisket.  Wrap your aluminum foil around your brisket place in a disposable pan or baking dish and transfer to cooler.  Cover with towel, close the lid and let rest for 1 hour.  When the brisket has rested for 30 minutes, increase your cooking temperature to 300 degrees.
9. Place your meat back on the grill for 30 minutes.
10. Cut your meat on a cutting board.  Make sure you cut against the grain.  Lang says to let it rest 10 minutes, but so far we have not been able to show that kind of restraint.

Dinner on the Fly: Duck Confit Carbonara with Braised Greens and Garlic Scapes

I fantasize about a butcher.  Not just the man but the place. No styrofoam, no plastic, just smooth brown paper that creases clean in the corners, folded on a steel countertop.  The man behind the counter would wear a white apron with red stains and an amiable greeting like your friendly neighborhood serial killer.  At some point we would know each other by name.

I realize that as a New Yorker I have no right to complain about not having access to anything.  It is true that I can get pretty much any exotic ingredient that is worthy of a trip outside my five mile radius (that travel time being equivalent to thirty miles outside the NYC area).  But we can eat just about anything from from grizzly bear to emu to any number of reptiles.  Does anyone ever wonder how we narrowed our choices down to just three; beef, chicken and pork?  In my utopian fantasy, there would be world peace and a neighborhood butcher that sold not just pork, beef and chicken but rabbit, duck, ostrich, bison and something I could try on a dare.  

We don't eat meat everyday anyway, so our specialty meats are really a treat.  Usually the result of a special outing. Duck, although not high on the list of exoticism, is a rare and coveted dinner at our house.   Especially for a week night.

Duck Confit

This is something you make ahead and use sparingly as it is very rich.  It is remarkably easy to for such a fancy sounding name. 

• 2 duck legs
• 2 garlic cloves
• extra duck fat to cover the duck legs
• tiny sprig of rosemary (optional) 

You need a oven proof dish that is just big enough to fit your duck legs.  Do not preheat our oven.  Place one garlic clove and rosemary sprig under each duck leg.  Cover almost entirely with extra duck fat.  About one cup to 2 legs.  Put your duck in the oven and turn it on to 250 degrees.  You want the duck in the oven while it is pre-heating.  This is super slow cooking on very low heat.  Leave for 2 to 2 1/2 hours.

Duck Confit Carbonara with Braised Greens and Garlic Scapes

• 2 tablespoons duck fat from the duck conft
• 1 bunch of braising greens such as mustard greens, spinach, kale or chard, chopped
• 5 garlic scapes
• 2 eggs
• 1/4 cup grated grana padana
• 1 lb of spaghetti
• Duck meat from confit for serving
• sea salt
• freshly ground black pepper

Salt your water and boil your pasta. Beat your eggs and cheese together Melt your duck fat in a skillet or large sautee pan.  Add your greens and garlic scapes.  If they get a little dry as they are cooking add a little of the pasta water.  When pasta is done add it to your greens if the pan is big enough.  If it isn't you can do the reverse.  Add your egg mixture and toss for a few minutes.  The egg will cook and thicken with the heat of the pasta but not separate. Add salt and pepper to taste.  Serve with duck meat on top.

Finding Eggs and Shelling Beans

I was eight and my brother was four when we were introduced to our grandparents.  It was the first summer of many we spent in the mountainous region of Southern Lazio, Italy where our father is from.  It was a long, stuffy journey for us but the air got progressively cleaner and thinner as we got closer to our destination.  By the last fifteen minutes of the journey, we were riding in a car circling higher and higher up mountains.  Birds were our traveling companions.  My father became more animated as what looked like a birthmark on the mountain grew to be recognized as a cluster of stone residences that was his town.  A far cry from Yonkers.

My father had told me that my grandparents kept chickens, picked fruit off of trees and harvested olives with the help of their neighbors from their own olive groves.  My fourth grade textbook education translated that to 'They live on a farm.'  Rural to the average American eight year old is a ranch style house and rolling acres of land around it, like in a picture book called "Where Does Our Milk Come From?". When we pulled up to the large wooden doors of a stone facade that seemed to be attached to every other stone facade in the town, I thought we could not possibly be in the right place.

"Why are we stopping here?  When do we get to Nonna and Nonno's house?"
My father laughed in a way that was both amused and excited, and exclaimed, "We are here!"

Here we were.  In the midst of a reunion, my brother and I are presented with pride to our grandparents.  There were big exclamations, gesticulations, tears, smiles and checks pinched purple.  My grandmother had a cloud of snow white hair, a fixed demure smile with chin tilted inward, and broad palms that cupped our faces in a basket embrace.  If the barrior of her dialect had not existed, one would still have to lean in close to hear the soft, high pitch bell of her voice.  My grandfather was short and stout with a chest that puffed out like a pigeon.  His shoulders were broad as was his upward, tilted smile.  In contrast, one would never have to lean in to hear him.

Fascinated and timid, I was determined to be on my best behavior.  Yet, I felt idle and mute in this new place were I struggled to understand and be understood.  I shadowed my new grandmother around her home.  I found her at the sink in the mornings. "Cosa vuoi mangiare? L'uova?" What would you like to eat? Eggs?  She asked me to retrieve them.  There were no eggs in the refridgerater.  My father is chuckling in the doorway.  "The eggs are outside in the yard."  Down the marble stairs and out the back door is a small yard with a chicken coup to the right.  I stepped inside to loud squawking and feathers flapping around my feet. I walked gingerly through my egg hunt.  I held up a smooth, brown globe.  Triumphant and beaming I ran back to the kitchen.

In the afternoon, we sat on folding chairs with a bucket of bean pods between us.  She taught me to split the pods with my thumb to reveal the beans inside.  They were glossy white speckled with purple patches like artisan beads. Her rounded hands worked nimbly leaving a pile of empty pods in her apron while my small fingers worked clumsily, barely making a dent in her afternoons work.

Without words but with shared activity I got to know my grandmother, her lifestyle and routine.  The routine that made her matriarch and care taker of all those who entered her home, friends, family and neighbors.  During that first summer away from the familiarities of suburban New York, I never asked for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or an oreo cookie.

No recipe today.  Just a  photo that triggered a memory to remind me why I cooked today and will cook again tomorrow.

The Classics: Baked Beans

Another summer barbecue, classic side dish.  This side is so easy that I can not believe I have ever eaten it out of a can.  ( I also can't believe I just admitted that to you.)  This past grilling endeavor on my husband's part was a great opportunity to for me to make baked beans as a side in place of the potato salad.  This is such a staple of American casual cuisine in my mind.  However, during a brief time I spent as a traveler with a work visa in England, I had it as an integral part of their traditional "English Breakfast." Cheerfully referred to as "beans on toast", this meant a can of Heinz baked beans, warmed and dumped over white, sliced bread toast.  I was a little disappointed when it was first served to me but then it fit my young traveler's budget and morning appetite.  It was equivalent to an "egg-on-a roll" that you can get at any New York bodega for $1.99.

A far cry from Heinz baked beans in a can, I am very happy with the way this recipe turned out.  It has that traditional sweetness along with a little added spice.

Baked Beans

• One 16 oz bag of dry white kidney beans
• 1 large onion, chopped
• 1/4 pound of slab bacon (go to a butcher, please), diced in small cubes
• 1/4 cup molasses
• 1/4 of a cup light brown sugar
• 2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
• 2 tablespoons ground dry mustard
• 1 bay leaf 
• 2 to 3 tablespoons of tomato paste
• dash of chipotle powder (optional but it adds to the smokey flavor with just a touch of heat)
• salt and pepper to taste

I start my beans in the slow cooker on high for about 30 to 45 minutes with enough water to cover them with an inch of water above the beans.  If you don't have a slow cooker you can put them in a large pot with the same amount of water to simmer.  In a large dutch oven or cast iron pot, cook your bacon and onion until your onion is translucent and your bacon is starting to brown.  Drain your beans and add them to the pot. Toss so that they are coated with bacon fat.  Add all other ingredients and toss.  Cover with water and bring to a boil.  Then simmer until the beans are tender, about 2 1/2 hours.

Just for inspiration, I have to show you our complete meal.

On the left is a spicy, no-mayo slaw with red cabbage and carrots, and below is Nick' slow cooked, barbecue brisket.

If Nick ever decides to share this recipe it could be a future blog post.