Key Lime Pie: When It's Too Hot To Turn On The Oven, But You Need Dessert

So, I'm going to a dinner party tonight, and was asked to bring dessert. It's hotter than fuck out there, and sticky, and gross, and I really don't want to turn on the oven. The last time I supped with this group, I also brought dessert, and that, friends, was my near-famous strawberry shortcake with thyme and balsamic vinegar. Mmm. Mmm, yes, but it ruled out another shortcake option (which, face it, is one of the best options in this nasty-assed weather).

So, what to do? By the time I thought of a puff pastry tart, it was too late to buy and defrost puff pastry. (Note to self: buy puff pastry, put in freezer for just such an occasion.) (Additional note to self: you're 39 years old -- shouldn't you be able to type "occasion" properly the first time 'round?)

Long story short (too late), it came down to a chocolate ganache pie (only heat required: microwave for melting chocolate and butter, as long as you use a pre-done crumb crust), or the ultimate in no-bake goodness: Key Lime Pie.

And Key Lime Pie won the day. 2 crumb crusts, 4 egg yolks, 2 cans sweetened condensed milk, and a scant cup of key lime juice. Plus obscene amounts of whisking. No, really. Right now, I'm sitting barely clad right under the a/c because I'm sweating like a pig would sweat if a pig could sweat which they can't. I'm just saying. If offered a wallow, I'd consider saying "yes."

Anywho. I now have two pies setting up in the fridge. I'm not going to top it off with meringue, because, again, see the "no oven, damn it" stance of hot weather cookery. I will likely pick up some whipping cream on the way to the dinner, just because there's extra head room on the pies, and I like a pie that looks ample, not accommodating.

You're thinking to yourself at this point "Um....are those egg yolks raw?" Well...only as raw as the scallops in your ceviche are raw. The acid in the lime juice denatures the proteins in the eggs, "cooking" 'em. If you've a compromised immune system, you might want to shy away from this, but if you're okay with sushi or ceviche or delicious unpasteurized cheeses, you should be fine with this authentic tasty pie.

Scaled down version of the recipe (for those rare occasions where one pie is deemed enough):

Key Lime Pie
Based on bits and pieces of far too many recipes

2 egg yolks
1 14-oz can of sweetened condensed milk
1/4-1/2 cup key lime juice
1 9" graham cracker crumb crust pie shell

If you have a hand mixer, this'd be a good time to use it. Otherwise, this is a good recipe to work out your whisking arms. Whisk the egg yolks until they are very, very pale yellow and frothy. Add in the sweetened condensed milk, and whisk, whisk, whisk, whisk. You want to keep whisking until it is getting noticeably thickened -- when you pick the whisk up out of the goo, it should come off the whisk in sheets, not in drips. So, whisk some more. If you're using electrics, this'll be at about the 4 minute mark. If you're going by hand, it'll be longer. Whisk away, baby. On a really hot day, you might want to make sure you're sitting under an air conditioner, so you can stay cool.

Once your goo is thick, add in 1/4 cup of key lime juice (preferably fresh, but if your choice is between fresh NON-key limes or bottled key lime juice, go for the bottled). Stir, stir, stir until it's well incorporated. Then, dip your very clean pinky tip into the goo, and taste. Is it tart enough? Is it lime-y enough? If not, add more lime juice, up to another 1/4 cup (so, up to 1/2 cup total. No more, or I won't vouch for the setting-up-ability of the pie).

Pour into a prepared crumb crust, scraping all the gooey goodness out of the bowl and into the pie. Place gently in your fridge, and let it sit there for a good 4 hours before serving.

Garnishing options:

• grated fresh lime zest
  
• candied lime peel
  
• fresh lime wheels
  
• little dabs of whipped cream
  
• great big globs of whipped cream
  
• more Cool Whip than might strictly be considered healthy
  
• meringue made from those 2 egg whites you have left over from separating out your yolks for this recipe (note: this would require turning on the oven)

You could use a ginger snap crust, if you want a ginger-lime pie. You could use a chocolate crumb crust for a black-bottom key lime pie. You could do away with crust completely and just let the goo set up in wee ramekins or custard dishes. I won't judge.

Turkey Noodle Casserole

It's Thanksgiving week, the great week of culinary traditions and improvisations. My friend Heather came over with eight fully cooked boneless turkey breasts, and so we're doing turkey leftovers early.

Simple Turkey Leftovers

Rip off a hunk of turkey meat.

Squeeze on some mayo -- preferably Duke's or Hellman's/Best Foods.

Eat.

Repeat.

That got us through a few days.

Tonight, however, I put together a turkey noodle casserole. Now, I'm no stranger to tuna noodle casserole (though I rarely bother to put it in the oven after mixing), but this is my first ever turkey one. Why? Because I usually am through with my turkey leftovers after sandwiches and simple turkey leftovers like above. With 20 or so pounds of meat to get through, I've plenty.

Turkey Noodle Casserole

Roasted turkey meat, roughly diced --at least two cups and up to five
"Cream of" -- one can (I used cream of celery)
sour cream -- 8 oz.
peas and carrots -- one can, drained, or 1-2 cups frozen
Egg noodles, cooked and drained -- one box or bag (I used spätzle)
black pepper -- to taste
your favorite casserole topping -- to cover (I used seasoned bread crumbs drizzled with olive oil; feel free to use corn flakes or what have you)

Preheat your oven to 350°F. In your favorite 9" x 13" pan, mix together the first five ingredients, thoroughly. Taste. Add pepper to your liking. Odds that you'll need to add salt are slim, what with the canned goods in play here. If it needs salt, though, have at it. Smooth the casserole down so it's level all over, and cover in your topping.

Pop into the oven, and leave it there until your topping is crisped, or until your house smells amazing, or until you can't wait any longer. This takes about 20-45 minutes.

Serve hot, serve cold, serve however. Tastes good with pinot noir.

And that's dinner. Well, and lunch for the next few days, too.

Carrot Ginger Orange Soup

This is pulled from my personal recipe box, posted at the request of @SusanEsparza.

Carrot Ginger Orange Soup
Ingredients

small amount of olive oil
2 shallots, minced (use 2 small mild onions if you can't find shallots)
1 Tablespoon freshly grated ginger
grated rind of one large orange
6 cups chicken stock
12 large carrots, peeled and chopped into uniform chunks
juice of one large orange
sour cream for garnish (optional)

In a soup pot, heat oil over high heat. When warm, sautee shallots till opaque -- 3 to 4 minutes. Add ginger and orange rind, stirring until fragrant -- shouldnt' take long, no more than one minue. Add stock and carrots. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to high simmer/low boil. Cook until carrots are extremely tender -- 30-45 minutes longer; you should be able to mush a carrot chunk against the side of the pot with a wooden spoon. Cool on the stove for half an hour. Stir in fresh orange juice. Puree in batches in a blender or food processor (remember: if its still hot, you'll be dealing with steam...open the little hatch in your blender top!). Store in fridge. Reheat on stove top before serving. Garnish with sour cream if you want. Haven't tried it, but I think a swirl of pesto through it would be delicious, too.

This is tasty all the time, but is particularly lovely on a rainy night, when you want to feel warm.

You can use vegetable stock if you are anti-fowl.

Sunday, Cooking

Today, I'm going a bit nuts in the kitchen.

Right now, I've got a ham in the oven, cooking low and slow a la Alton Brown's City Ham recipe. I've also got a pot of beans simmering so that I can make Tante Suzie's Pork & Beans. I've whipped up a batch of the master dough recipe from Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day and have it rising. Later, there will also be asparagus.

I also have a big measuring cup filled with tomato juice, for the pork & beans. Trouble was, see, that I didn't have any tomato juice in the house, and I was ill-inclined to go out again (long churchy morning). Thank goodness for the internet! Did you know that you can make your own tomato juice substitute? One can of tomato paste to four cans of water. Doesn't matter what size can of paste you're using, just make sure you measure the water in that self same can. This'll also help you clean out every last bit of tomato goodness.

I've been making a concerted effort to eat more "real food" -- so, there's been a lot of baking. The Boy Bait was just the start. I've made two loaves of no knead bread this week, and as you might have gathered from the first paragraph, I've got more bread plans for this week.

And that's my Sunday. Light on cookbooks, big on love.

Coq Au Vin: My Deep Dark Secret

It's time to 'fess up. I love cookbooks, but I rarely ever prepare a recipe as written. It is much, much, much more common for me to consult a few books and then some website, and cobble together what I like from all of them to make something more me.

Tonight, for instance, I stopped at a couple stores on the way home, and bought fixings for coq au vin, or, really, A Slightly Less Pretentious Dish of Red Wine Braised Chicken. And here's how I did it:

Coq au Vin, or a Slightly Less Pretentious Dish of Red Wine Braised Chicken

Preheat your oven to 350°F

8 chicken thighs, with skin, bone in
1 cup flour
hearty pinch salt
hearty grinding pepper

Put flour, salt, and pepper in a brown paper bag. Close up, and shake to combine. Open bag, and put in two chicken thighs. Close the bag, and give a few hearty shakes. Open bag, and take out each thigh, placing them on a cooling rack for the time being. Repeat until all thighs are coated and placed on the rack. Throw out the bag.

Why the rack? Because we want the moisture from the chicken to start forming a shell with the flour, so we want as little contact with surfaces as possible.

2 containers of white mushrooms, sliced
big pat of butter
big pinch of salt

In a separate skillet or pot altogether, melt your big pat of butter over medium-high heat, and then dump in your mushrooms. Add salt. Stir occasionally as you do the rest of your work.

1/2 package bacon, cut into chunks

In a big flat-bottomed pot or a deep skillet, over medium-low heat, render out the bacon fat. If your pot is running hot and you're risking crisping/burning rather than rendering, add a shot glass full of water.

Cook until you've a good amount of fat rendered out, then use tongs and remove the bacon to a bowl for now. Leave the fat in the pan.

Lay 2-3 chicken thighs skin-side down in the bacon-y pot. Let sit for a few minutes, until the crust starts forming, and you see a bit of golden brown. Turn over, and let sit until the other side is crusty/golden. Remove to a heavy 9x13 pan. Repeat with the rest of the chicken thighs, in small batches. If you pot dries out, add a few glugs of olive oil between batches.

4 carrots, chopped
1 onion, chopped
5 cloves garlic, minced

Dump your non-fungus veg into the bacon-y/chicken-y pot, and stir frequently until the onions and garlic are softened. If you have the patience, keep going until the carrots are soft. If not....so be it.

By now, the mushrooms should have cooked down. They're now much more brown than they were, and almost all of the liquid they threw off has evaporated.

If it hasn't evaporated, turn up the heat, and keep the non-fungus veg going until the mushrooms are ready.

When the mushrooms are all ready, take 'em off the heat, and spread them over/between the chicken in the 9x13 pan. Scoop up non-fungus veg and spread over/between the chicken & mushrooms. Sprinkle/spread the bacon on top of the whole mess.

1 750-ml bottle of relatively inexpensive pinot noir, ideally from France or Oregon (it should be something that you would actually deign to drink; plonk has no place here, but "I could use it in Sangria" does)
2 bay leaves
2 sprigs rosemary AND 3 sprigs thyme OR a big ol' pinch of dried herbs de Provence

Check your bacon-y/chicken-y/non-fungus-veg-y pot: is there any fat left in the pan? If so, pour it off (not down the sink...into an empty can) or blot it up with paper towels. Dump in your wine, turn up the heat to high, and start whisking to get all the crusty bits up off the pan bottom. This? Is flavor. It's also "deglazing." It is the key to goodness. Honest. Add in the herbs, and whisk frequently as the whole things bubbles strongly. Keep it going for 3-5 minutes -- it'll reduce somewhat.

Take off the heat, and pour over the chicken/mushroom/veg/bacon concoction. Cover the pan tightly with aluminum foil, and pop in the oven for an hour and a half.

1 package noodles -- egg noodles, spätzle, fettuccine, or whatever you have in the cupboard
large amounts of water
heaping pinch of salt
big knob of butter
store bunch of fresh parsley, leafy bits chopped up, stems discarded

Bring water to a boil in a big ol' pot. Toss in the salt, then the noodles. Stir, and cook for the length of time specified on the package. Drain. Put into a big ol' bowl, and toss with the knob of butter and 3/4 of the parsley.

Eat a bowl full of noodles, because by now you're really hungry, and the house smells amazing, and you're salivating, and you need sustenance.

When the chicken's been in the oven for an hour and a half, pull it out, open it up, and sprinkle the rest of the parsley over the whole thing.

Serve the chicken and veg along side the noodles, and spoon some of the delicious sauce over the whole thing. Make sure you're not eating the bay leaves or the sprigs of herbs. Throw those bad boys away.

Like all things stewed and braised, this'll just get better as it sits in the fridge. Make sure you have some leftovers for the next day or two, because you'll be the happiest person in the world.

And that, m'dears, is how I cook.

Bonus Post: Ceviche Costa Rica Style

My hands smell like limes, and I don't have a cocktail in front of me. Astute observers might conclude that I've been making something else with lime juice. And, it's true. I've been making ceviche, but if you're used to having ceviche at your local tex-mex place, you might be a little cautious when you see mine.

Ceviche, Costa Rica Style
1 lb bay scallops (sea scallops work, too, but are more expensive, and
need to be cut into bite-sized bits)
4 limes
1/2 bunch cilantro
1/2 red onion (or, you know, any other onion you have around)
1-2 glugs olive oil
salt
saltine crackers
mayo
ketchup

Place scallops in a clean, non-reactive bowl or jar. Cover with the juice of 4 limes -- the scallops need to be covered in the juice. Add cilantro and onion, both finely chopped, salt, and olive oil. Let marinate in the fridge overnight -- it helps to put plastic wrap over the bowl, letting the plastic rest on the surface of the ceviche to make sure there's no air getting in. Serve on crackers, garnished with a mixture of mayo and ketchup.

I say the recipe is mine; it's not. It's really my dad's (that's him in the picture above..handsome devil, no?). See, way back in the 80s, Dad went on sabbatical to Costa Rica, and he ambitiously took my sister and I along. I look back at that and have to realize: I am now two (nearly three) years older now than my dad was when we went. It is a weird feeling. Anyway, long digression short, my grandma came down to stay with us for several months, and with the anniversary of her death this month, I'm all sorts of nostalgic for all things family.

Back to the fish. My dad fell in love with ceviche down there, and when we got back to the States, he worked and worked to recreate it. He had the darnedest time finding cilantro (this was Oregon, in the early/mid-80s, after all), and no one had heard of ceviche. He prevailed, and this is how I know ceviche.

Dad and I would stand around the kitchen counter, spooning the fish out of a tall jar onto a saltine, and then dolloping on a ketchup/mayo sauce (mix 1 part to 1 part).

I know that sounds strange. I know that we're conditioned now to think only of tortilla chips and maybe some salsa when eating ceviche.

The saltines and Marie Rose are authentically 1984 Costa Rica. I will vouch for it. Give it a try. Throw caution cautiously to the wind. If you end up hating it -- and I've never met anyone who does -- you can always rip open a bag of Tostitos and uncap a jar of Jardine's.

I've got a bowl of ceviche tucked into the fridge, and tomorrow evening, I'll be eating it with friends.

Costa Rica style.

Key Lime Pie: When It's Too Hot To Turn On The Oven, But You Need Dessert

So, I'm going to a dinner party tonight, and was asked to bring dessert. It's hotter than fuck out there, and sticky, and gross, and I really don't want to turn on the oven. The last time I supped with this group, I also brought dessert, and that, friends, was my near-famous strawberry shortcake with thyme and balsamic vinegar. Mmm. Mmm, yes, but it ruled out another shortcake option (which, face it, is one of the best options in this nasty-assed weather).

So, what to do? By the time I thought of a puff pastry tart, it was too late to buy and defrost puff pastry. (Note to self: buy puff pastry, put in freezer for just such an occasion.) (Additional note to self: you're 39 years old -- shouldn't you be able to type "occasion" properly the first time 'round?)

Long story short (too late), it came down to a chocolate ganache pie (only heat required: microwave for melting chocolate and butter, as long as you use a pre-done crumb crust), or the ultimate in no-bake goodness: Key Lime Pie.

And Key Lime Pie won the day. 2 crumb crusts, 4 egg yolks, 2 cans sweetened condensed milk, and a scant cup of key lime juice. Plus obscene amounts of whisking. No, really. Right now, I'm sitting barely clad right under the a/c because I'm sweating like a pig would sweat if a pig could sweat which they can't. I'm just saying. If offered a wallow, I'd consider saying "yes."

Anywho. I now have two pies setting up in the fridge. I'm not going to top it off with meringue, because, again, see the "no oven, damn it" stance of hot weather cookery. I will likely pick up some whipping cream on the way to the dinner, just because there's extra head room on the pies, and I like a pie that looks ample, not accommodating.

You're thinking to yourself at this point "Um....are those egg yolks raw?" Well...only as raw as the scallops in your ceviche are raw. The acid in the lime juice denatures the proteins in the eggs, "cooking" 'em. If you've a compromised immune system, you might want to shy away from this, but if you're okay with sushi or ceviche or delicious unpasteurized cheeses, you should be fine with this authentic tasty pie.

Scaled down version of the recipe (for those rare occasions where one pie is deemed enough):

Key Lime Pie
Based on bits and pieces of far too many recipes

2 egg yolks
1 14-oz can of sweetened condensed milk
1/4-1/2 cup key lime juice
1 9" graham cracker crumb crust pie shell

If you have a hand mixer, this'd be a good time to use it. Otherwise, this is a good recipe to work out your whisking arms. Whisk the egg yolks until they are very, very pale yellow and frothy. Add in the sweetened condensed milk, and whisk, whisk, whisk, whisk. You want to keep whisking until it is getting noticeably thickened -- when you pick the whisk up out of the goo, it should come off the whisk in sheets, not in drips. So, whisk some more. If you're using electrics, this'll be at about the 4 minute mark. If you're going by hand, it'll be longer. Whisk away, baby. On a really hot day, you might want to make sure you're sitting under an air conditioner, so you can stay cool.

Once your goo is thick, add in 1/4 cup of key lime juice (preferably fresh, but if your choice is between fresh NON-key limes or bottled key lime juice, go for the bottled). Stir, stir, stir until it's well incorporated. Then, dip your very clean pinky tip into the goo, and taste. Is it tart enough? Is it lime-y enough? If not, add more lime juice, up to another 1/4 cup (so, up to 1/2 cup total. No more, or I won't vouch for the setting-up-ability of the pie).

Pour into a prepared crumb crust, scraping all the gooey goodness out of the bowl and into the pie. Place gently in your fridge, and let it sit there for a good 4 hours before serving.

Garnishing options:

• grated fresh lime zest
  
• candied lime peel
  
• fresh lime wheels
  
• little dabs of whipped cream
  
• great big globs of whipped cream
  
• more Cool Whip than might strictly be considered healthy
  
• meringue made from those 2 egg whites you have left over from separating out your yolks for this recipe (note: this would require turning on the oven)

You could use a ginger snap crust, if you want a ginger-lime pie. You could use a chocolate crumb crust for a black-bottom key lime pie. You could do away with crust completely and just let the goo set up in wee ramekins or custard dishes. I won't judge.

One more variation, for the booze hounds out there--and I know you're there--use 1/4 cup key lime juice, and 1/8-1/4 cup tequila. Voila, you've got a margarita pie!