My friend John is a painter, an incredible painter who is not recognized in the established art world the way he should be. Whatever. That's not why he paints. (However, I hope the museums and art critics flock to his door when he is 94, the way they have with Carmen Herrera.)
He paints because he has to paint. He sees the world differently than I do and he has this relentless flushed urgency to try to capture what he sees in oil paints, thickly applied sometimes, on blank canvasses. Lately he has been sitting in his cold studio, hunched forward, working with these crazy translucent red paints (rose madder and alizarin crimson), this slash of red that stands out in winter grey around here. His art teacher 30 years ago told him that no one should ever use this particular red. So John bought a tube — expensive for 1979 — and saved it, all this time. He said he wasn't ready for it before. He didn't know enough yet. He opened the tube this winter.
I haven't seen this painting yet. I can't wait.
Forgive me. I know you loaded up this site hoping to find cinnamon rolls. And there they are! See them up there? Lush and delicious, soft and inviting. The recipe is at the bottom of this post. If you really can't stand it anymore, skip these words. Click on the part that says "Keep reading" and it will all be there. You don't have to read this at all.
But I have to write it.
You see, I can't draw stick figures in any recognizeable fashion. My mother bought me a set of paints or watercolors or oil crayons every Christmas, hoping that the artistic talent would bloom some late December. It never did. I'm no visual artist.
Lately, however, I gobble up light with my camera, not wondering if I'm a good photographer, just wanting to see. I write little messages on Twitter because my fingers twitch if I go more than a few hours without recording what I have noticed. I write letters to friends on small stationery cards and copy them before I tuck them into envelopes, saving the copies in a folder for sometime later, in case I ever wonder what I was doing this second day of winter, 2009.
I don't know what I call this. I just do this.
And I bake.
Nearly every afternoon, I open the cupboard with the gluten-free flours and grab corn flour or potato starch. Sometimes sorghum. Sea salt, baking powder, and xanthan gum are in the cupboard next to the dishwasher. I reach for the butter that has been softening on the counter so I can mix it with brown sugar and start the magic happening.
I never know what's going to happen next. I imagine it. I know the general structure. But lately, that countertop in front of the bay window, with Little Bean beside me, has become my blank canvas. I'm inventing as I go, trying to make the soft sweet treat I imagine happen underneath my hands.
For Christmas, I wanted cinnamon rolls. Tell truth, I have made them every Christmas for the past four years. The first year's were awful: gnarled at the edges, a bit burnt, and dry as insulation material. The second were from a mix. The third year...Did I make them the third Christmas? I was 8 weeks pregnant, sleeping and sick most of the time. It's a bit of a blur.
Last year, Danny and I proudly carried in the cinnamon rolls we had created for the first draft of our cookbook. And they were....good. I mean, really good. But not, great.
No, that's not it. They still didn't match the image I had in my mind of what a good cinnamon roll should be.
I want a soft, pliable dough, one that tastes good on its own. Yes, I love plump golden raisins, brown sugar almost melting, the ooze of cinnamon-scented butter on the edges, and cream cheese frosting. Really, how could you not love cream cheese frosting? But most of all, I want a cinnamon roll that stands up to the rush of Christmas morning, with a few stragglers left until the afternoon when we pick at the caramelized edges to stave off the hunger pains until dinner begins.
I want the cinnamon roll you see above. And I need it to be gluten-free.
A few days ago, I finally baked it.
As you may know, I have been baking cinnamon rolls non-stop for the past few weeks. I learned so much from every batch, from the botched to the beautiful, that none of it has been a waste. Seriously, though, I started growing close-throated at the idea of another cinnamon roll. Time to bake something else.
Tita's the one who did it. She, my dear friend for the past 18 years (and painter John's wife), knows her food. Tita's the one who gave me the cornbread recipe we have been making since. When I told her stories of making cinnamon rolls that begin by heating oil and milk, she made a face. "I've never done that. All you need is a white bread dough."
Oh. It never occurred to me, somehow, that a cinnamon roll dough is a white bread dough. (I've been studying cinnamon roll recipes like they are the Torah. No one mentioned this.) Strange as it may be for a gluten-free girl, the white bread dough didn't intimidate me. I've figured that out lately.
So I pulled out the scale, and measured out the ratio of flours to liquids to eggs I have figured out these past few months. I chose almond flour for its high protein and slightly sweet taste. Corn flour shows up in all the Italian gluten-free delicacies we ate on our honeymoon. And I pulled out potato starch, tapioca flour, and sweet rice flour, for the starchiness. I turned to Little Bean, babbling and banging the whisk on the countertop beside me, and said, "Let's begin."
I knew it under my hands as I mixed and rolled. This was the one.
You can see the pictures here. Let them be the judge if you would like to bake these cinnamon rolls too.
That's the thing. My cinnamon rolls may not be the ones you like best. That's okay. Not everyone loves John's paintings. (I don't understand those people, but fair enough.) There's not a single creative expression that will win universal approval. That's not why we do this.
Years ago, before I moved to New York, John and I talked about why we do what we do, this crazy passion and need to put things on blank canvases. He said something that has always stayed with me: "I just make the paintings I wish I could look at. You should write the books you want to read."
That's what I'm always doing, when I write, whether it's letters or books. I'm just sitting here trying to write what I wish I could read.
And now I've created the cinnamon rolls I wished I could eat.
If you enjoy them too, that's all the better.
Merry Christmas.
Gluten-Free Cinnamon Rolls
You'll see that I have given the flour measurements here in ounces. I bake by weight, with a trusty scale, spooning out flours to exactly four ounces. It makes baking more precise, which is vital to gluten-free baking. It also, however, makes it liberating. Once you figure out the ratios, you don't need someone else's recipes. You can make it up on the spot.
That's my hope, that enough of you start baking by weight that you won't even need to look at my recipes. We can just have conversations instead.
I know that some of you will ask about substitutions. I don't know. If you can't eat almonds, or have an allergy to corn, or have just run out of potato starch, you can substitute other flours, if you use the same weight as the original. I've used brown rice flour, sorghum, teff, and arrowroot powder successfully here too. The ratio is what really matters. Now, personally, I probably wouldn't use any of the bean flours in cinnamon rolls, or mesquite, or anything that smacks of healthy eating. It's a cinnamon roll. Let it be starchy and doughy for one day.
(I've put the flours into cups, which I measured after I baked these. Keep in mind that how you measure a cup may be different than how I do it here.)
These cinnamon rolls can be dairy-free, as well as gluten-free. In fact, the rolls you see here were made with goat's milk powder, so if you need to avoid cow's milk, this is your recipe. You could substitute soy milk powder or rice milk powder, if you can find it.
Other than that, I really don't know. I'm pretty darned happy with these cinnamon rolls. They're gluten-free. That's how I need to eat. If there are ingredients here you can't eat, then it's your turn to adapt this recipe and make these the best cinnamon rolls for your kitchen.
1 1/2 cups water
3 tablespoons sugar
2 1/2 teaspoons active-dry yeast
4 ounces almond flour (1 1/4 cup)
4 ounces corn flour (3/4 cup)
4 ounces sweet rice flour (3/4 cup)
4 ounces potato starch (2/3 cup)
4 ounces tapioca flour (1 cup)
1 tablespoon xanthan gum
1 1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
1/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup milk powder (we used goat milk powder in this batch)
2 large eggs, at room temperature
Filling for Cinnamon Rolls
4 ounces unsalted butter (1 stick or 8 tablespoons)
2/3 cup brown sugar
4 teaspoons cinnamon
3 tablespoons agave nectar (or maple syrup)
1/2 cup golden raisins
1/2 cup walnuts
Cream Cheese Frosting
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
4 tabelspoons cream cheese, at room temperature
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 cups powdered sugar
Activating the yeast. Bring 1 cup of the water to 115°. This is a good temperature for yeast — not too hot, not too cold. If you want to be particular about it, you can use a thermometer to measure the temperature. I like to turn on the tap water and run it over my wrist. When the water feels like the temperature of my skin (with no cold splashes or hot pockets), it's ready. Mix the water, yeast, and sugar in a medium-sized bowl. Set it aside to rise, about 15 minutes.
Mixing the dry ingredients. Combine the almond flour, corn flour, sweet rice flour, potato starch, tapioca flour, xanthan gum, and salt together. Whisk them together in a food processor, or in a stand mixer, or with a whisk. Combining them into one flour will help the final cinnamon rolls to be light, rather than dense and lumpy. Add the brown sugar and milk powder. Stir to combine.
Finishing the dough. Bring the remaining 1/2 cup of water to 110°. If you have a stand mixer, move the dry ingredients into the bowl of the stand mixer. (If not, you can make this dough with a hand mixer or by hand.) Turn the mixer on medium-low speed and add the yeasty water, then the eggs, 1 at a time, mixing in between. Mix for a few minutes until the dough comes together. If the dough feels a bit too dry, add the remaining water. (I always seem to need it.) The dough should be soft and a bit shaggy but not soggy. It will NOT be as firm as you expect a gluten dough to be. Instead, you are aiming for pliable and a bit spongy, like a cookie dough.
Yeast doughs will vary in behavior depending on the weather. These measurements are a guide. If you find you need another splash of water to make the dough feel right, then go ahead. If the dough feels too wet (like you need to wipe your hands after touching it), then add a touch more potato starch. Start to trust your instincts.
Letting the dough rise. Move the dough to a large greased bowl. Cover with a clean tea towel and set the bowl in a warm place in the kitchen. Allow it to rise until it has doubled in size, about 1 hour. The dough will have become a bit more pliable, a little more like gluten dough, at this point.
Rolling out the dough. Grab a Silpat (or piece of parchment paper) and lay it on a large baking sheet. Move 1/2 of the dough onto the Silpat and cover it entirely with plastic wrap. Slowly, roll out the dough to the edge of the baking sheet. (You're rolling out its width, first.) I try to make the dough the width of the rolling pin. Next, spin around the baking sheet and roll out the dough lengthwise. You probably won't take it as far as the edge. Simply roll it out to about 1/2-inch thick. Take off the plastic wrap.
Making the filling. Melt the butter on the stove, on low heat. Put half the brown sugar, cinnamon, agave nectar, golden raisins, and walnuts onto the rolled-out dough. Drizzle 1/4 of the melted butter on top.
Rolling the dough. Here's the important part: go slowly. Grab the Silpat on the edge farthest from you and pull it up gently. The edge of the dough should start to roll away from the Silpat and toward the dough. If not, then nudge it with your fingers. Make tight rolls, moving slowly and patting the dough gently as you go. Roll the dough, then press it down with the Silpat, then roll some more, with the dough falling toward you, going slowly. If the filling oozes out as you reach the end, that's okay. It's a sign you're going to have good cinnamon rolls.
(Nothing of this should be about being perfect, anyway.)
Cutting the dough into rolls. Go grab your dental floss. Yes, your dental floss. Cut a long piece of it, longer than two hand widths apart. Slide the piece under the log of dough, then bring the two edges together to cross over the top. By doing this, you should be slicing a piece off the log. This makes for lovely, neat pieces, instead of jagged hunks. Make your way down the log of dough with the dental floss. You should end up with about 8 pieces, with ragged end bits as well.
(Sometimes I bake the ragged ends separately, as little cinnamon swirls. Sometimes I just throw them in.)
Preparing to rise the rolls again. Pour 2 tablespoons of the melted butter into the bottom of a pie pan. Place the sliced rolls into the buttered pan, tightening the rolls if they have begun to unravel. Set them aside to rise.
Repeat this process with the other half of the dough and remaining filling.
Allow the rolls to rise for 1 more hour. Gluten-free doughs do not rise as high as gluten doughs do on the second rise, but they do puff out nicely. It's worth it.
Baking the rolls. Preheat the oven to 350°. When the oven has come to temperature, slide in both pans. Bake until the rolls fill firm to the touch when you press on both sides of one, but still with some give, about 25 minutes.
Allow the rolls to cool for about 10 minutes, then invert them onto a plate.
Frosting the rolls. Put the butter and cream cheese into a food processor. Whirl them up. While that is mixing, pour in the vanilla extract. Add the powdered sugar in handfuls, looking at the texture of the frosting between batches. It usually takes about 2 cups for frosting to be thick and rich in our food processor, but you may like a different texture. This is only a guide.
Frost the rolls when they have reached room temperature.
Go at it.
Makes about 16 cinnamon rolls.
22 December 2009
gluten-free cinnamon rolls
16 December 2009
gluten-free rugelach
I've been wanting for weeks to tell you about these cookies.
And now that it's time, I find that I don't want to say very much. You know how some meals deserve elaborate place settings, candles lit, and a hushed expectation so your guests will say ooh when you proffer the platter? Others taste best when two of you are standing in front of the stove, hips touching, fingers outstretched toward each other's mouths.
This is a stand-in-front-of-the-stove post.
I just want to race to the end, to the recipe, so you can start making these gluten-free rugelach.
I mean, look at that flakiness! When I first started making these a few weeks ago, the sheet tray sat on the counter while the cookies cooled, and I stood above them, just gawking. I've never seen this kind of flake on a gluten-free anything. Dare I say it's a little like croissants? Or a touch like puff pastry?
Oh, I should back up just a bit. Some of you may be wondering: what the heck is rugelach?
I first ate rugelach in New York City. I'm pretty sure I bought it at Zabar's. One bite and I wanted more. Over those years, whenever I saw a rugelach offered, my hand grabbed for it. (I also ate my fair share of knishes, but that's another story.)
Rugelach are traditionally Jewish cookies, and the name in Yiddish seems to mean anything from creeping vine to little twists to rolled-up cookies. As the holidays approached this year, Danny and I lay out plans to develop some particularly good gluten-free holiday treats. Immediately, we wanted something for Hannukah, not just Christmas.
(I'm a Buddhist who celebrates Christmas and was often named an honorary Jew by my New York Jewish friends. Good pastries, it seems, is my religion.)
When I put up a note on Facebook, asking what people wanted to eat, I heard this chorus of voices: rugelach! rugelach! rugelach! The people spoke and I listened.
This lovely woman, Lisa Laudato, sent me her grandmother's recipe, along with this story:
"This recipe has been handed down to my sister and me from our grandmother. Sadly, she is longer living.
Our Nonny Edith made shoe boxes of this rugelach for my sister's Bat- Mitvah and brought them to Buffalo, NY on the airplane - all the way from Florida. Thinking they would be safe until the big day, our Mom put the boxes in the freezer in our basement. Well, what a surprise our Mom and Grandmother got a few weeks later when they opened the boxes. Almost all of the cookies were gone! Me and my sister had been sneaking down each day and eating them. Ha Ha! That was almost 26 years ago and still no one can resist these cookies.
I would be so happy if this recipe would be able to be converted to be GF! While I can no longer eat dairy, I hope that the recipe would bring as much joy to other's as it has brought to me in the past."
How could I not try to adapt this?
The traditional filling for these cookies seems to be apricot jam and walnuts, with a hint of cinnamon sugar. But once you start thinking of these cookies as a template, you can fill them with anything. Raisins. Raspberry jam. Cocoa powder. Kumquat chutney. Whatever the heck you want.
I have made at least a dozen batches of these (we've been working on these like we've been working on the cinnamon rolls) and every one of them left flaky sweetness on our lips. But my two favorite combinations were blueberry habanero chutney with golden raisins, and the one you see above — quince paste and bittersweet chocolate.
Yep. Yum.
Here's another present for you. The dough for these cookies doesn't have any sugar. They're more like a little pastry than a cookie. This means that those of you who have to avoid sugar can eat these cookies. Simply fill them with something sugar-free, a reliable favorite of yours, and you have a holiday treat.
Since the dough itself is not sweet, guess what else you can do? Make tiny crescent rolls. Can anyone say pigs in a blanket? (We are so having these for Christmas this year. I haven't eaten them in years!
Oh, and Lisa (and everyone else in the same boat), you can make these dairy free. We tried it, several times. Earth Balance buttery sticks in place of the butter and vegan cream cheese for the cream cheese. They weren't entirely the same but they were still flaky lovely winter holiday deliciousness.
Happy Hannukah, everyone.
I'm very much honored to be part of the 12 Days of Sharing, organized by one of my favorite food bloggers, Jennifer Perillo from In Jennie's Kitchen. For 12 days, numbers of us have been baking and sharing recipes, urging our readers to donate their recipes to the virtual cookie jar as a way of raising money for Share Our Strength.
I'll let Jennie explain it to you here:
"For the 12 days, we're baking our hearts out to make sure no kid goes hungry this holiday season. How can you help? It's easy. See that badge above? Click on it and make a donation. The feeling that will wash over you, knowing you've made a difference in a child's life, will be the best gift you get this season.
And because we can't thank you enough for your generosity, we've found some amazing corporate donors to help us. Each donation you make via the 12 Days of Sharing badge between today and December 18th equals a free entry into a giveaway for some pretty cool prizes. How cool? Well, let's start with a brand new Cuisinart Stand Mixer? Check out the complete list of giveaway prizes. How about setting a challenge for yourself, and pack breakfast or lunch for the next week? Use the money you'd normally spend and donate it to Share Our Strength each day."
I'm so happy that these gluten-free rugelach might be able to feed hungry kids, as well.
Gluten-Free Rugelach, adapted from Lisa Laudato's Nonny Edith and Dorie Greenspan
Besides the flaky texture, the sweet pastry crust and sweet surprise of an inside, and the fact that these are so darned good, the thing I like best about this recipe is how easy it is. Simply gather your flours, some xanthan gum, salt, cream cheese, butter, and your food processor. That's it. Once I started making them, I stopped looking at the recipe. I had the ratio in my head.
I'm telling you now, if you are at all serious about gluten-free baking: buy a kitchen scale. These cookies work every time when I measure them out in ounces, instead of cups and tablespoons. And here's the best part — if you bake these cookies with 7 ounces of flours? You could almost use any flours. I have made these with teff, oat flours, tapioca, potato, almond flour, and sweet rice flour. They all worked. The combination I'm going to give you here is our favorite, the most supple and flaky. But as long as you measure out 7 ounces of flour, you could use the first three flours you have in your cupboard. Or a mix. You can substitute out the cornstarch, if you are allergic to corn, and put in arrowroot powder instead. It's that simple.
And, starting in January, we're going to be writing all of our baked goods recipes in ounces and grams. So get ready, people. Buy a scale. Believe me, these cookies alone make the purchase worth it.
4 ounces cream cheese (that's half of one package, in its usual form)
4 ounces unsalted butter (that's 1 stick)
2 ounces super-fine brown rice flour (1/3 cup)
2 ounces potato starch (1/4 cup)
3 ounces cornstarch (2/3 cup)
1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
2 teaspoons xanthan gum
1 large egg
1 tablespoon water
Set the cream cheese and butter out on the counter about 10 minutes before you start working with them. Cut the cream cheese and the butter into 4 equal pieces. They should be starting to soften when you work with them.
Put the brown rice flour, potato starch, cornstarch, salt, and xanthan gum into a food processor. Run the processor until the flours are well mixed.
Drop the 4 cream cheese pieces and 4 butter pieces into the food processor. Pulse them 5 to 10 times, then turn on the processor full force. At first, the flours will spin round and round and you'll think you need some liquid to make them stick. Be patient. After a few moments, you'll see the forces start to gather. Watch carefully. Stop the processor when the dough looks like giant curds, before it has formed a solid ball.
Form the dough into two balls with your hands. Cover them in plastic wrap and refrigerate for 15 minutes, to allow them to rest and harden up just a touch.
Roll out the dough balls between two pieces of parchment paper. You want about a 10-inch circle at the end, as evenly round as you can. Peel off the top layer of parchment paper and spread your favorite fillings onto the dough, leaving at least 1 inch space around the edges. Using the bottom piece of parchment paper, nudge the edge of the dough forward until it begins to curl inward. Roll the dough, stopping after each turn to press down lightly. Keep the log of dough as tight as you can.
Or, if you want little crescents instead, spread the filling on the rolled-out dough and press it in with your fingers. Using a pizza cutter or knife, cut the dough into 8 triangles. Starting with the wide end, slowly roll up the triangle until you have a cresent roll. Voila!
Put the shaped dough back into the refrigerator for 1 hour.
Preheat the oven to 350°.
Whip the egg and water together to form an egg wash. Brush the log or triangles of dough with an egg wash.
Bake in the oven until the crust is firm and golden brown, about 25 to 30 minutes. Allow them to cool to room temperature before cutting them up.
Makes about 2o cookies.
14 December 2009
Menu for Hope: Let the Bidding Begin
Finally. We're ready.
1. Choose a bid item or bid items of your choice from our Menu for Hope main bid item list, when it's posted. (That will be up at Chez Pim.)
Okay, there's more I could tell you, but that's the gist. You are raring to see the bid items in this raffle, aren't you?
Go!
UW01 Food Styling and Food Photography Workshop with Matt Armendariz
You're bidding on one Food Styling & Food Photography Workshop to be held in 2010. The class will be held at Matt Armendariz's studio in Long Beach, California, March 13 & 14. In this class you'll spend one day learning the ins and outs of food styling followed by a second day of hands-on photography with Matt. The workshops held thus far have been incredibly engaging, entertaining and packed full of practical information to help your food looks its best and ways to capture that beautiful image. Bring your camera and any questions you have!This class is valued at $695.
The Fine Print: Winner is responsible for travel to Long Beach as well as accommodations. Lunch and class materials for you will be provided by Matt Armendariz. In lieu of class scheduling and winner's schedule a personal day of food styling instruction and food photography at the studio can be offered as an alternate. Same conditions apply.
UW02 Locavore Starter Kit
So many people tell us that they'd love to make the leap to eating local products, but they just don't know where to start. So we're making it simple with a Locavore Starter Kit: A trial membership to the Soul Food Farm chicken-and-egg CSA (or another CSA of your choice* if you live outside the Bay Area) and a farmer's market tour with breakfast and local treats.
Soul Food Farm and Married with Dinner are offering a $100 CSA credit toward the winner's choice of whole chickens, eggs, olive oil, and other farm-fresh goodies. Pick up your winnings all at once, or spread it over multiple pickups: It's up to you how to spend your CSA credit (subject to the usual order terms, naturally).
Plus, Soul Food Farm farmer Alexis Koefoed has offered a personal tour of Soul Food Farm for the prize winner and up to 3 guests at a mutually agreeable time in 2010.
We'll also include a personalized tour of the San Francisco Ferry Plaza Farmers Market, complete with breakfast or lunch for two, to help the winner find all the great foods they need to make the leap to la vida locavore.
And if that's not enough, we'll also bring along a bag full of local and homemade goodies for you to take home after your walk-around. The bag will include some of our own preserves, and an assortment of treats from local folks — including a bag of brown rice and a jar of almond butter from Massa Organics.
* A special note for non-Bay Area bidders: If the winner's residence is not located within 25 miles of a Soul Food Farm drop point, we'll pay the first month's box charges ($50 maximum) for any community supported agriculture program in the winner's area. And the market tour + breakfast portion of the prize is open to any winner, local or visitor, on any Saturday in 2010 (subject to Anita & Cameron's availability).
UW03 Coffee and Cake from Cucina Nicolina
This lovely package donated by Nicole at Cucina Nicolina includes:
- 1/2 lb. delicious, fresh-roasted Blue Bottle coffee beans
- a small cake/sweet bread or batch of cookies, depending on recipient preference (dietary needs? no problem!)
- a pretty new mug in which to enjoy the coffee
UWO4 Dinner for 2 at Manresa
This bid-item donated by Pim includes dinner for two people at Michelin 2-star restaurant Manresa, plus wine pairings, plus a tour of the restaurant's biodynamic garden at Love Apple Farm.
Gratuity is not included.
UWO5 Artisan Marmalade from Pim
This bid item offers a selection of six jars of Chez Pim’s artisan marmalade and jam, plus an autographed copy of Pim’s new book, The Foodie Handbook: The (Almost) Definitive Guide to Gastronomy
. UW06 Dinner for 2 at Coi in San Francisco
This bid item, donated by Pim, includes dinner for 2 people at Daniel Patterson's Michelin 2-star restaurant, Coi, in San Francisco.
Plus, the winner will also receive dinner for two at Daniel Patterson's more casual spot at the Ferry Plaza, Il Cane Rosso.
Beverages and gratuity are not included.
UW07 Four-Month Subscription to Citizen Bean
Citizen Bean offers 4-month subscription of their coffee-roasster of the month club that celebrates the best sustainable and complex roasts from small roasters all over the country. You'll also receive a Welcome Kit, with a 4-cup French Press, a timer, and other coffee essentials.
Shipping to U.S. only.
Get an Emera bag of your own - tote your favorite DSLR in style with Pim's favorite camera tote bag, the one and only Emera Bag!
UW10 Gift Certificate to Blurb to Make a Book from Your Blog
Donated by Faith Kramer at Blog Appetit, this $50 gift certificate allows you to make a book from your blog, through Blurb. Plus, if you wish, Faith will help you copy edit your new book.
UW11 Lowel Light Set for Food Photography
This Lowell Ego Two Light Set
, donated by Kalyn's Kitchen, includes two stand lights with two bulbs in each light, bounce cards and backdrop. This will make your food photography much better, particularly in these long winter months.
This bid item, donated by BlogHer, is a free pass for admission to all conference sessions and events for the BlogHer Conference 2010 in New York.
(This does not include travel or hotel expenses, or meals other than those included with the conference. Men or women can attend BlogHer.)
Romney Steele has written a lovely memoir about her family's time at Nepenthe Restaurant in Big Sur. She has donated a copy of My Nepenthe: Bohemian Tales of Food, Family, and Big Sur
, along with one 8oz jar of her apple pear butter and 1 pound of Kevah Granola, both recipes in the book and reminiscent of home. Nepenthe Restaurant has also donated a $100 gift certificate so you can come in to enjoy dinner.
Valentina Vitols is offering a two-hour long photo tour or Pike Place Market OR a two-hour in-studio photo session. The winner gets to choose.
Elise from Simply Recipes has donated this humungous assortment of artisanal foods from Foodzie.com (think Etsy for food), including Charles chocolates, Sweet Revolution caramel spread, Hawaiian honey, red onion confit, green tomato relish, Ethiopian coffee, and red currant jam.
Susan from Wild Yeast has donated a 2-day artisan baking class (or 40% off a 5-day class) at the San Francisco Baking Institute.
Susan from Wild Yeast has also donated a signed copy of Advanced Bread and Pastry by Michel Suas, the founder of the San Francisco Baking Institute.
Pack adorable lunches with unusual Winnie the Pooh food shaping tools and a banana-themed "Putifresh" bento set. The yellow bento set includes a watertight bento box, two matching bags, chopsticks, elastic bento belt and a Zespri "spife" (spoon/knife combo) for packing whole kiwifruit. The tools include a boiled egg shaper, sandwich cutter, onigiri rice ball shaper, vegetable cutter, pancake ring and silicone food cups, all shaped like Winnie the Pooh.
Season your way to good taste with Diamond Crystal® kosher, coarse and fine sea salt and put to use that iconic salt cellar you've seen Alton Brown using on Good Eats. Use a $25 CHEFS gift certificate to purchase anything else you might need, then cook like the chefs with signed copies of Michael Symon's Live to Cook and Top Chef: The Quickfire Cookbook (signed by chefs Jen Biesty, Jamie Lauren and Ryan Scott ). You'll also get a copy of Good Eats: The Early Years, Top Chef: The Cookbook and Top Chef Quickfire Challenge Game to keep you busy until next season.
Jeanne at Four Chickens has donated signed copies of Thomas Keller's Ad Hoc at Home + Langdon Cook's Fat of the Land.
Jen Yu, the amazing photographer who writes Use Real Butter, has donated one of her original photographs.
Jen Yu of Use Real Butter has also donated a $100 gift certificate to The Culinary School of the Rockies in Boulder, Colorado. They offer professional programs and home cook classes throughout the year. Discover what's fresh. Discover CSR!
Jen Yu of Use Real Butter has also donated a $100 gift certificate to SALT the Bistro on Pearl Street in beautiful downtown Boulder, Colorado. Recently featured in the Wall Street Journal, Bradford Heap's SALT serves up local and organic food. SALT: civilizing taste for over 6,000 years.
Patricia Sharpley of Brownies for Dinner has donated this package. It includes a few of the essentials for you to make the perfect brownie: a box of Valhrona Dutch process cocoa powder, a bar of Scharfenberger 70% cocoa bittersweet chocolate, a Chicago Metallic Professional 9x9 square brownie and cake pan, and The Sweet Life in Paris by David Lebovitz which has in it the single best brownie recipe I’ve tried.
This package, donated by Arnold Gatilao of Inuyaki, means a dinner for 2 at Ad Hoc, as well as a signed copy of the Thomas Keller cookbook. (Beverages, tax, and gratuity are not included.)
This bid item, donated by Arnold Gatilao of Inuyaki, is a copy of Ad Hoc at Home, signed by both Thomas Keller and Chef de Cuisine Dave Cruz.
This bid item, donated by Arnold Gatilao of Inuyaki, is a copy of Under Pressure, signed by Thomas Keller.
This bid item, donated by Arnold Gatilao of Inuyaki, is a copy of Momofuku, signed by David Chang and Peter Meehan.
You have your choice in this bid item donated by Lara Ferroni of Cook and Eat.
Ore Dagan of PotentialGold.com is offering an assortment of delicious Fra' Mani Salumi hand chosen by Paul Bertolli. Included will be a Fra' Mani 'Little Ham'; a Fra' Mani Pancetta; an extra-large Salame Gentile named 'Gentile Gigante' as well as some other items hand chosen at the time of delivery.
Allison from Sushi Day has donated a signed copy of Sustainable Sushi: A Guide to Saving the Oceans One Bite at a Time by Casson Trenor, and a $50 gift certificate to Mashiko Sushi Restaurant in Seattle, WA.
Helen of Tartelette (mytartelette[at]gmail[dot]com)
Europe *and* the UK
David Lebovitz (david.lebovitz[at]yahoo[dot]com)
Canada
Tara of Seven Spoons (tara[at]sevenspoons[dot]net)
Asia Pacific, Australia, New Zealand
Ed Charles of Tomato (gastrotom[at]gmail[dot]com)
and, last but not least, our special Wine Blog Host
Alder of Vinography (alder[at]vinography[dot]com)
Event Co-ordinator
Chez Pim
(any further information about the event or questions about financing go here)
13 December 2009
gluten-free cinnamon rolls, an update
I may be getting sick of cinnamon rolls.
For the past week, I have made at least seven batches of gluten-free cinnamon rolls. Sometimes I have made them with Little Bean standing on a chair at my side, and I have talked with her as I combined flours and tossed in softened butter. Other times, I waited until she was napping, to go faster, racing against the waning light outside.
Not one of them has been perfect. They've all tasted good-to-great. None of them will be the final recipe we will post on this site next week.
However, I have learned something important from every single batch. That's part of why I love baking — the celebration of what is happening under my hands, instead of wishing for something different. None of this has been a waste.
The ones you see above were my attempt at adapting The Pioneer Woman's famous cinnamon rolls. I love Ree. (Lord, let's face it, who doesn't at this point? Did you know that her book
(I have to tell you that I have this little dream that Ree will invite me, Danny, and Little Bean out to the ranch some day. We'll experience a life we never imagined living and Danny will cook them world-class meals all week. I wonder if they'd mind being gluten-free for a few days?)
Anyway, Ree's cinnamon rolls are hugely popular, gooey with glaze, and look like my Platonic idea of cinnamon rolls. She also had this unusual method I had never encountered to put together these puppies. She heats up milk, oil, and sugar, lets the yeast sit on top to bloom, then adds 8 cups of flour. (Yep. 8 cups. Her recipe makes 40 to 50 cinnamon rolls.) After the dough rises for an hour, Ree adds baking powder, soda, and salt, and rolls them out.
Hm.
What drew me to the recipe, aside from the enticing photographs, is that the ingredients list is structurally the same as the first batch of cinnamon rolls I baked. Add back the dairy and there it is — the same recipe, essentially. So I cut the recipe to 1/4 of its original size. (Who needs 40 to 50 cinnamon rolls that don't taste good, if it didn't work?) I converted the all-purpose flour to my favorite blend, weighed it out, and started to bake. Full of anticipation, I waited for the dough to rise.
Yeah, that didn't work. As you can see from the photograph, these were mis-shapen, lumpy, and not at all attractive. The problem was using this method with gluten-free flours. The first-rise dough was too firm for me to easily stir in the other ingredients. When I flung it back into the KitchenAid to get them in, the whole thing collapsed. Gluten-free dough is delicate anyway. No need to beat it up.
Well, Little Bean ate a few bites of these, at least.
I still think the recipe might work, gluten-free. Convert the AP flour to GF flours, in the same weight. And then combine them all together at once, instead of a two-step process. Add an egg, for extra protein and binding. See what happens.
Next!
One of the basic problems of gluten-free baking is that you expect the batters and doughs and final products to feel the way you are used to them feeling under your hands. Did you know that gluten-free bread dough, if it's going to be successful, should be soft, almost like a cookie dough? Took me two years to realize that. After I let the bread be itself, instead of an attempted imitation of gluten bread, then it started to become great.
The same is true for cinnamon roll dough. It took me a couple of tries to remember this: good cinnamon roll dough is essentially a white bread dough.
See that rising dough up there? It's too stiff for a good gluten-free dough. It looks firm and whole and ready to go, right? (It also looks like a brain to me.) Bake up this dough and it's impossibly too dry 30 minutes out of the oven.
Good gluten-free dough has to be softer than you would expect. It took me half the week to remember this.
This is a good gluten-free cinnamon roll dough. See how soft it is? It's not sticky — that's important. You're going to roll it out, eventually, even if you'll be doing it in a different way than you expected. It's a ball of dough, instead of exhausted parts trying to get far away from each other. But it's softer than you would think. That's Little Bean pushing the spatula into it.
That's what you're aiming for — a dough so pliable that a 1-year-old can reach the bottom of it with a kitchen tool.
I learned another trick this week, something vital to good cinnamon rolls in this kitchen. I tried rolling out the final doughs on the countertop, between two pieces of parchment paper or plastic wrap. With those dry doughs, I got length and width, but I got bupkes for rolling-out ability. That fragile dough irritated the hell out of me. When I tried to cut the log of dough into rolls, it fell apart even more.
Sigh.
However, someone, somewhere (and forgive me that I can no longer remember where in this frenzy of cinnamon, almond flour, and softened butter) suggested rolling the dough out on a sheet tray. AH!
If you don't have a Silpat
I began rolling out the dough on the Silpat, covered with plastic wrap. That way, the dough didn't stretch too wide or too thin. Just right, as Goldilocks might say. And then — here is the key part — I use the edges of the silicone mat to nudge the dough into rolling.
Remember (and I had to remind myself) that good gluten-free dough has to be softer than you remember gluten dough feeling. This is part of what keeps the final rolls moist and soft. But if you try to roll soft dough the way you would traditionally, it will fall into mush much easier than you wish.
Instead, let the mat be your guide and nudge it into rolling well. Believe me, this makes everything easier.
Ah, cinnamon sugar and melted butter.
I didn't really learn anything from this. I just like this picture.
Well, that's not entirely true. As much as I love a plain cinnamon roll, with nothing but butter and cinnamon sugar inside, we found that the best rolls this week were a bit gooier inside. Molasses. Brown sugar. Golden raisins. Walnuts. You know — lots of stuff.
By the middle of last week, I had created a recipe from scratch that made these cinnamon rolls. They had a lovely crust, a soft inside, the faint scent of cinnamon worked into the dough. They went fast. Little Bean begged for more. (We didn't let her eat all the cinnamon rolls she wanted, though.) Danny approved.
However, by the end of the second day, they looked like this. Alluring, at first, but starting to dry out.
You might be thinking, "Who saves cinnamon rolls until the next day? Don't they all disappear immediately? And you don't have much frosting on those."
True. You see, I've been pretty spartan about these rolls in the testing. Not too much filling. No frosting, or only a bit. You could put an ooey-gooey goodness in the middle of cardboard and frost it with cream cheese frosting and take a few bites before you decide to put it down. I want these rolls to be good on their own.
And then add the butter and sugar and caramelize the bottoms and fill them with melted gooey deliciousness.
Like these.
These were the next-to-best rolls, warm out of the oven. Our friends who eat gluten ate three of these each. They loved them. Danny agreed. He said I was done.
Almost, I said. Almost.
Finally, these arrived. With slight tweaks, a new flour, and dogged persistence, I pulled these out of the oven and sighed. Oh yes.
See the crust on the outside? The soft warmth of the inside? These had hardly any filling. No frosting. They were baked on a sheet tray instead of nestled together in a pie pan. And they were wonderful.
Even after all these batches, and failed attempts, and pans of cinnamon rolls sitting on the counter, I wanted these. I could have eaten them all by myself.
I think we have a recipe.
After one more try....
Next week.
07 December 2009
gluten-free cinnamon rolls, a work in progress
Almost every afternoon these days, I look down at Little Bean amidst her pile of books. Without her noticing, I have shoved all the sharp knives and breakable dishes to the side of the kitchen where the appliances congregate. The chair sits against the counter. I have her apron in my hand.
"Do you want to bake with Mama?" I ask her.
Her eyes grow wide and she flings her hands into the air, open. "Bay!" she says, already on the move, finger pointed toward the countertops. I lift her high in the air, pausing for a kiss on the neck, and set her down on the chair in the corner. She has rubber spatulas, measuring spoons, cups, and cloths before her. I have already laid out all the flours, the salt, the gums, and the kitchen scale on my side of the counter. The butter is softened. The sugar is ready.
It's time to bake.
The first few years I lived gluten-free, I only baked sporadically. Oh sure, there are plenty of recipes on this site, and some of them still stand up. At the time, however, my focus was finding the foods that fed me without having to substitute for gluten. I thrived on pomegranate molasses, marcona almonds, and good goat cheese. Opening my arms to all the foods to which I could say yes meant the world to me. I eat better than I ever did before I gave up gluten.
(Meeting Danny helped with that one too, of course.)
Baking started to return. I started with mixes then began buying the little bags. I fumbled through the process, daunted by xanthan gum and dry doughs. My hands didn't know where they were. It all seemed a mystery. And a grieving. I love baking so. I felt like I would never find it again.
(You should know that most of the recipes from the first two years of this site? They were made in one attempt and then published. Triumphant that anything worked, I wanted to share, immediately. They don't all work now. You should know that.)
Time moves through floured fingertips and failed baking attempts.
More than four years later — and countless creations tested several times before we post them, many more before sending them to print — I have baking back in my life. I never think of the moments before the countertops — the flours spread out before me, a stainless steel bowl poised on top of the kitchen scale — as anything else but baking.
I bake.
Every morning, Little Bean walks out to the living room after she wakes up, a huge smile on her face, arms outstretched toward the Christmas tree on our counter. She stands there, patiently, waiting, until I reach down to turn on the lights. And then she smiles wider.
Every afternoon, we are whisking flours, creaming butter and sugar, and waiting for the dough to rise. (Thank goodness we have neighbors and friends who like to eat our experiments.) She bangs her cups and spoons, pausing to reach toward the rolled-out dough spread with cinnamon sugar and pinch a bit between her fingers. We talk and laugh. I tell her how the dough feels in my hands, why it's important to not add hot milk to yeast, and the difference between muscovado and turbinado sugar. She understands some of it, I think. She's happy.
And I am happier still. Life is pretty chaotic around here at times. Danny's cooking at a restaurant again and so gone 5 evenings a week, Little Bean is trying to reach into every cupboard and pull every book off the shelves, I'm writing two blogs, another book, and trying to keep up on the laundry. There are further complicating mysteries these days. I could easily walk around with frayed hair and a stiff neck.
However, when Little Bean and I stand at the kitchen counter, talking and bouncing our spoons against each other, I am at rest. In joy.
This is why you are seeing so many baked goods recipes on this site these days. It's the holidays, the time of nutmeg and family gatherings. I'm not developing recipes to get accolades. I'm trying to find the best cinnamon roll recipe for this kitchen, this year, so that I can share them with my family on Christmas morning.
I want to keep baking with Little Bean, together, for many years to come.
Over the past few years, we've developed recipes for holiday baked goods we have really loved. Besides the recipes we are finishing up for this site, these are the ones we'll be making in this kitchen during the next few weeks.
36-Hour-Chocolate-Chip-Cookies
Banana Bread with Chocolate Chips and Crystallized Ginger
Fig Cookies
Banana-Coconut Cream Pie (gluten-free and dairy-free)
Gingerbread
Butterscotch Créme Brulee
Dinner Rolls
Holiday Fruit and Nut Balls
Lemon Pecan Biscotti
Pie Crust
Roll-Out Sugar Cookies
Rosemary's Christmas Cookies
Spicy Ginger Crisps
Spicy Molasses Cookies
We are also honored to announce that Oprah.com is featuring several food bloggers for the holiday season, and we are among them. Oprah.com has gluten-free holiday baked goods recipes! Click on over there to check this out.
We feel pretty lucky in this house. We don't bake with gluten, but we can pretty much use everything else. However, we know that not everyone can eat eggs, or dairy, or tree nuts in baking. We want you to have the best experience you can during this holiday season.
I've been sent some good baking books intended for folks who have multiple food allergies, and now I'd like to share them with you.
I'm giving away copies of these books here. It's the holidays. I'd like to share a copy of Gluten Free Every Day Cookbook
We also have 4 copies of Allergen-Free Baker's Handbook
Just leave a comment about why you love baking and why you want to be the best baker you can in your kitchen. We'll choose the seven winners through Random.org at the end of this week.
Gluten-Free Cinnamon Rolls, a work in progress
Normally, when we post a recipe here, we give you the final summation, the ta da! reveal. But this week, I'd like to share the process more than the final product.
Today, I'm giving you our slightly adapted version of the cinnamon rolls from The Allergen-Free Baker's Handbook
These were good rolls. Really good. Warm out of the oven, they were soft and delicious, slightly sweet and familiar. If you have multiple food allergies, these are the rolls for you. However, after a couple of hours, they were too stiff for our taste. I want cinnamon rolls that taste great without the frosting. Since we can eat eggs, I'm going to make another batch with one added, plus some other tweaks, to make the rolls more supple.
Watch this space. In a few days, I'll have an update on the next batch.
(Click here to see the update on the process. Final recipe coming soon.)
1 cup whole milk
1/4 cup canola oil
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 cup sorghum flour
1/2 cup potato starch
1/2 cup tapioca flour
1/4 cup cornstarch
1/2 teaspoon xanthan gum
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
2 1/4 teaspoons (1 packet) active-dry yeast
1/2 cup butter, melted
1/4 cup granulated sugar
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
Combine the milk, oil, and sugar in a medium saucepan. Turn the burn on medium heat and bring the liquid up to warm, just barely above the temperature of your skin. Turn off the heat and let it sit.
Mix all the flours, xanthan gum, baking powder, salt, and yeast.
Pour the milk mixture into the dry ingredients. Blend them well. (A stand mixer works well here, as does a food processor.)
Turn the dough into a large, greased bowl. Cover the bowl. Let it sit in a warm place in your kitchen and rise for 1 hour.
Put the cinnamon roll dough between two large pieces of parchment paper. Roll it out to about 1/4-inch thickness, as wide as you can. (I make a ragged rectangle.)
Spread 1/4 cup of the melted butter over the top of the dough, leaving about 1/2 inch along the edges. Combine the sugar and cinnamon and sprinkle it over the dough.
Carefully, using the bottom piece of parchment paper as your guide, roll the dough into a log, as tightly as you can.
Pour the remaining melted butter into the bottom of a pie pan. Cut the log of dough into 12 pieces and transfer the rolls to the buttered pan. Put the pan of rolls into a warm place in the kitchen and let them rise for 1 hour.
preheat the oven to 350°.
Bake the rolls until they are golden brown, about 25 to 30 minutes in our house.
Glaze or ice as you see fit.
Makes 12 cinnamon rolls.
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