Christmas!

This Christmas, I am thankful for my geeky family and for extended family and friends who understand just how eccentric we really are. 

An hour after breakfast saw me sitting in the kitchen with my feet up, drinking sinfully rich hot chocolate made in the hot chocolate maker my husband gave me, (milk and dark chocolate chips, with whipped cream.) while reading the book my sister, who has read this blog, sent me.

 

This book is full of all kinds of geeky facts such as the role of salt in yeast breads or what exactly makes gluten.  I kept squealing and reading parts to my husband, happily as geeky as I am, who enjoyed them every bit as much.  This book is going to come with me back to school when it starts up again, so I can show it to the biology teacher in the room next door, who has a special interest in microbiology.  (I tell my students that baking cookies, because they use chemical leavening agents, is kitchen chemistry, and yeast bread baking is kitchen biology.)

One thing I loved was finding the instructions for using wild-caught yeast (learning to my great surprise and fascination that what really matters is not just the yeast, but the bacteria caught in the process).  Calculating the time required to make a starter for this purpose, and recognizing the need to stir the mixture several times a day, I realized I'd better get it finished while school was still out, or I'd have a much more difficult time once school started again.

And here it is:  the start of my starter attempt!  (Behold the proof of my geekiness in the form of the notebook set to record the progression of this scientific experiment . . .)  I'm excited to see what I can do once the starter is really completed.  My husband is dubious that we can catch any sort of yeast and bacteria in the desert in winter, but time will tell.

Like many people I know, Christmas is a time of food and family, not necessarily in that order.  Here is a sample of the things we made this year for the holiday, a bit simpler than normal, since my school teaching schedule really cut down on the time I had available.

The Junior Taste-tester and the Master Kitchen Helper worked with me to make the gingerbread cookies.  The round iced ones are lebkuchen, a recipe my family picked up in Germany when I was a child, which must be carefully aged for a month to blend the flavors just right.  The tiny ones are pfefferneuse, a Danish cookie made with baker's ammonia, the existence of which I discovered only two years ago.  My husband has nicknamed them "Scooby Snacks", because they are tiny bits of buttery, spicy flavor, and very addicting.  The ones half dipped in chocolate are sugar cookies, made with peppermint extract in lieu of vanilla extract, with crushed candy canes mixed into the dough.  This was an experiment I did for the first time this year and while it was tasty by itself, the cookie was elevated to a step shy of genius after being dipped in a mixture of melting chocolate and semi-sweet chocolate.  The candy in the middle is dipped in the same mixture, with a center based on peanut butter.

On my kitchen counter are also some of my crackers, made with rye flour, at which my college daughter (who really does look very similar to the princess on "Brave", with slightly shorter hair) rolls her eyes in ecstasy and exclaims they are the best things ever.  Of course we still have Holiday Crescent Rolls left over from our Christmas Eve dinner, but I bet they'll be gone after breakfast tomorrow.  We still have a good deal of our traditional pumpkin pie in the refrigerator, as well as some chess pie, which I made for the first time this year.  ("Mom, what on earth is a 'chess pie'?"  "Good question, hun . . .")  And there is enough of the cheap ham I managed to doctor sufficiently to seem like a much more expensive ham for another meal.

All in all, we've had a very tasty and satisfying Christmas.  To my readers, I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas, wherever you are and whatever flavors you enjoy at this time of year!

The Reason For the Season

Prickly Pear Candy

Nope, it's not bread.  But I figured if I was going to make this foray into the unfamiliar world of candy-making, I'd go ahead and document the exercise.

In the effort to try to make a desert Southwest-specific type of culinary treat to send out to certain parties for Christmas, I decided to look up recipes for prickly pear candy.  After some searching, I decided upon this one, called Prickly Pear Delight, (the Junior Taste-Tester suggested "Desert Delight" would sound more alliterative) as the most intriguing.

Here we go!

Ingredients:

4 cups sugar
4.5 cups prickly pear juice, divided
2 teaspoons lemon juice
1 1/4 cups cornstarch, divided
1 teaspoon cream of tartar
1 cup powdered sugar

First, oil the pan you are going to use.  The recipe suggested a 9-in square pan, but as I didn't have one, I made do with what pan I did have.  (Something to the tune of 9x11, I think.)  After oiling the pan, line it with plastic wrap and oil the wrap.  (THIS IS IMPORTANT.  I tried covering my candy with plastic wrap a little later and found out how much it really sticks to plastic wrap.  Fortunately, it only affected a small area.)

In a heavy saucepan over medium heat, combine the sugar, 1.5 cups of the prickly pear juice and lemon juice.  Stir over medium heat until the sugar is dissolved and the mixture boils.

Reduce heat and simmer gently, without stirring, until the mixture reaches the softball stage (240 degrees Fahrenheit on a candy thermometer, according to the recipe.  My candy thermometer marked softball at 235, but I went ahead and hit the 240 mark, just in case).  Remove the pan from the heat.

Because I only had one pan I was willing to trust with making candy, due to materials and size, I had to fudge a little.  After the mixture was at the required temperature, which took over an hour, I poured it into a different saucepan and placed it over the tiniest flame just until I saw bubbles again.  I was a bit concerned that moving it to a cold pan might affect the way the chemistry worked and did this to hedge my bet, so to speak.

After washing and drying my original saucepan, I continued.

In a large heavy saucepan over medium heat, stir together 1 cup cornstarch and the cream of tartar. Gradually stir in the remaining 3 cups juice until no lumps remain. Stir constantly, until the mixture boils and is a thick, gluey paste.

I did not take a picture of it at this stage, because it really was a gluey paste, and I was rapidly trying to proceed to the next step . . .

Slowly pour the hot, sweetened juice and lemon juice syrup into the cornstarch mixture, stirring constantly. (This does take a bit of elbow grease.)  Reduce the heat and simmer, stirring often to prevent sticking, for about 1 hour, or until the color deepens.

My daughters all had fun looking at the mixture at this stage.  They said it looked like some kind of fantasy bog.  (Gu-LUP, gu-LUP . . .)

Although my picture doesn't show it well, I do remember noticing at one point as I stirred that the color had deepened, which surprised me, because I had neglected to pay attention to that part of the directions.  It was a comfort, then, to reread the directions after an hour of boiling and realize, "Oh, that change in color was supposed to happen?  I guess I'm at the right stage, then."  (Must be doing something right, right?)

Pour the mixture into the prepared pan and spread evenly. Cool to room temperature and let stand, uncovered, overnight to set.

(This is before I made the error in judgement of trying to cover it with plastic wrap.)

It was a hopeful thing to notice, after pouring the candy into the pan, that the Junior Taste-Tester and the Senior Master Kitchen Helper were busily licking the saucer on which I had placed my stirring spoon . . .

Sift the confectioners sugar and the remaining ¼ cup cornstarch onto a large cutting board. Turn the candy out onto the prepared board.

It was something of a trick to actually maneuver the candy out, using the plastic wrap, because it is a very flexible substance, somewhat resembling finger Jello, but because it was oiled, the wrap came off easily.

Cut the candy into 1-inch squares with an oiled knife.  I found myself having to refresh the oil on the knife every two or three cuts.

Roll pieces of the candy in the sugar mixture to coat well. Store in an airtight container with sheets of waxed paper, dusted with the sugar mixture, separating every layer.

So this is what it looks like when it's first made!

As it sits, a good deal of that powdered sugar gets absorbed in the candy's inherent moisture, so I have no idea how well it will last like this.  At least it ought not stick . . . I hope . . .

The candy melts in the mouth (I thought it would be more chewy), with a flavor which is strong, but very, very prickly pear.  Overall, I think the experiment was a success.

I'm crossing my fingers that it will last without refrigeration . . . but as the recipe does not mention it must be refrigerated, hopefully it will survive its journey into parts unknown.  (Or, at least, unmentioned.)  Priority Mail, here I come!