In Praise of Uncertainty

In quantum mechanics there is an assertion that the more precisely the position of a particle is determined, the less precisely its momentum can be known, and vice-versa. Then there is the "observer effect", which notes that measurements of certain systems cannot be made, without affecting the systems. Now I know we don't live at the quantum level, we are bigger; but here in my tiny kitchen tonight, with the permeating smell of the yeasty dough that is fermenting in the corner, I find comfort in equations.

I know this will not be an easy topic to agree on. Some things exist in such an array of variations that it is almost futile to even aspire to agree, but in this case that may in fact be totally apropos. By "this case", of course, I mean the case of uncertainty. So much of what we do seems to be in an effort to eliminate as much uncertainty from our lives as possible. We have been taught to find comfort in knowing, in mastering the possibilities, in making informed and secure decisions. We have entire careers dedicated to managing risk, maximizing efficiency, narrowing possibilities. We have formulas, weapons, armies, guarantees. This particular result, or your money back. But here from my little kitchen in my little town I'm writing to you in defense of something that we may have over-antagonized.

Lets shrink back to the quantum level again, for the sake of argument. The observer's presence effects the system being observed, and therefore the system's parameters become impossible to determine with exactitude. Is this not lovely? The system is marked by its observer, and by extension, the observer by his system. Am I the only one who finds poetry in that? I see this everywhere. I water the seeds I've planted in my little herb box and notice the chives peaking out and not the sage. I kneed the same dough that refused to rise last week, and which today is elastic and fecund. I write pages of a thesis that may never be completed or defended, edit poems that may never be read by anyone, daydream about a life which I may never find, and amid all this uncertainty I find a hazy kind of comfort. If my life were to turn into an instructional manual, I would like the bi-line to read: how not to know and like it.

nota bene: this time someone dismisses the "watched kettle doesn't boil" theory as superstition, play the quantum card and cite Heisenberg's "observer effect." Here is an equation: ψ = Σa_nψ_n

An Elaborate Ciabatta Recipe that may or may not yield good results

1/2 tsp active dry yeast (not instant)

3tbsp warm milk

3/4 C Water (room temp please)

250g starter (at least 12 hours old)

300g flour (maybe more)

1/2 tbsp salt

cornmeal

This will take a while.

Stir the yeast into the milk in a mixer bowl, and let stand about 10 minutes. Add the water, oil, and biga (starter) and mix with a wooden spoon until blended. Mix the flour and salt, add to the bowl, and mix for 2 to 3 minutes with spoon, then flour your hand and knead for 4 minutes. Rest, have a sip of wine, and knead again (in the bowl or on a floured surface) for a few minutes adding as little flour as possible, until the dough is velvety, springy, and moist. This is an important step. This is where you get strength and porosity for your dough, so try to do this part well.

Place the dough in an oiled bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and let rise until doubled, about 1 1/4 hours. The dough will be full of awesome big bubbles, very supple, and kind of sticky.

Cut the dough into 2 equal pieces on a well-floured surface. Roll each piece into a cylinder, then stretch each cylinder into a rectangle, pulling with your fingers to get each piece is longish and wideish.

Generously flour 2 pieces of parchment paper placed on upside-down baking sheets. Place each loaf, on a piece of parchment. Dimple the loaves vigorously with your fingertips or knuckles so that they won’t rise too much. The dough will look heavily pockmarked, but it is very resilient, so don’t worry your little heart. It will all be alright. Cover the loaves loosely with damp towels and let rise until puffy but not doubled, 1 1/2 to 2 hours. The loaves will look flat and stupid and unpromising, but don’t give up; they will become beautiful swans in the oven.

About 30 minutes before baking, preheat the oven to 425ºF (218ºC) and slide your baking stones on the center rack to heat. If you have no stones, buy some. If you don’t want to, use a griddle, or… maybe something cast iron. I like cast iron for bread.

Before baking the ciabatta, sprinkle the stones with cornmeal. Carefully invert each loaf onto a stone. If the dough sticks a bit to the parchment, just gently work it free from the paper. If you need to, you can leave the paper and remove it 10 minutes later. Bake for a total of 20 to 25 minutes, spraying the oven with water in the first 10 minutes. Transfer the loaves to wire racks to cool.

Let me know how it went. Ciabatta is just as hard to bake as baguette, if you ask me… so if you pull this off I’m really proud of you.

Tired Hands. Open Heart. Monk.

I wish I could capture it in one sentence, but I'm afraid I'm not a skilled enough writer to depict the thoroughness of my exhaustion with just one string of words. I'd have to describe, for instance, my eyes' finding no help even in the carefully polished lenses of my glasses, my feet wanting only to be bare, my spine begging to opt out of the resistance game it has played against gravity for so many consecutive hours... and maybe if I went on like this for one more paragraph, detailing every inch of my tired self, you would understand why even after polishing a bowl of pasta, a block of gorgonzola, and and a glass of Malbec, I still lie awake now writing. There is a degree of hunger that brings the loss of appetite, and a kind of tired that knows no sleep.

So I listen to piano and think about the many trips on foot and bike that I made between home, university, office, library, studio, and bank today to do what needed to be done. The pile of undergraduate literature essays that I only made a bit smaller, the many e-mails that still need to be sorted and answered. Allison's attendance mark has to be changed. My thesis adviser needs his book back. I need to buy a red pen. Did I leave my office window open?

My mom called me when I was making dinner tonight and I put her on speaker, explaining that I needed both hands to roll out the pasta dough that I had just cut into pieces and floured on both sides. She told me she likes that I never complain about being tired. I had to wrap that conversation up, clean my flour-dusted kitchen, and heat up some of the tomato sauce I still had left over from two nights ago. But as set the table for one, facing the open window of my kitchen, and poured myself a glass of wine I realized something. Maybe things like a fresh bowl of pasta, an open window, and a glass of wine after a day like this are why I find no need to complain. Sure, I can think of a few things that could improve, but for now I've got Thelonious Monk on, and I'm gonna reread Rilke's Orpheus poems and see what happens...

Basic Pasta (from Gennaro Contaldo's Passione)
makes pasta for one or two

75g 00 Flour (I buy mine from the Italian supermarket)
25g semolina
1 good egg (really. I mean it.)

Mix flour and semolina on a clean work surface or in a big bowl, and make a well in the middle. Break eggs in the well. With a fork or with your hands, gradually mix the flour with the egg until everything is mixed and lumpy. Knead until you get a smooth, soft dough. Form into a ball, wrap and leave for about 30 minutes or until you are ready to use.

Divide dough into 2 portions and put through pasta machine starting at the highest setting. As the pasta gets thinner, turn down the settings until you get to the thickness you desire. Depending on the sauce you may want thinner or thicker pasta. I like 2 or 3 on the setting scale. Use as much flour as you need to keep your pasta from sticking. The flour will wash off when you cook the pasta.

Dress your pasta with whatever you've got handy. Wine. Eat.

Eat, Memory

My grandpa always joked that my parents bought me from a gypsy family that passed through town. He'd look at me through the slight gap above his reading glasses and say " that's why you can't sit still, and you have music in your blood." Well, the wind was blowing again, and my heart was restless, and I was listening to Beirut, and one morning in February I opened my eyes and I was in Paris. I think we all know that things are never that simple, but to try and explain everything that led to my trip and everything that happened while i was away, and how it felt when I returned would be like including instructions for making butter, milking cows, grinding flour,and washing dishes, in a pancake recipe. It's been a while since I wrote here... if I'm a little rusty bear with me.


There was a bakery downstairs from my tiny room in Paris, where most of my days were begun. The coffee was decent and though like most bakeries in Paris, croissants and baguettes were a plenty, what caught my eye on the first visit, and accompanied my coffees on every subsequent day of my trip was a large plain-looking cookie that a neat paper sign taught me to call a Sablé Au Beurre. This cookie stole my heart with its honest flavour and satisfying texture, but also because when I first tasted one it reminded me of something I could not place. I told the baker (who also worked at the counter) about this hazy distant taste memory and he told me with a smile, that if I ate one every morning I might eventually remember.

On my last morning, when I opened the bakery door he was already grabbing my cookie with a square of waxed paper. I explained that I would like a few more this time, that I would be returning home, and was going to miss the cookies. He told me to wait while he grabbed a small box. I waited for what seemed liek too long to grab a box. It all made sense when he came back and gave me the recipe. As I walked away from the bakery I thought to myself that when I bake these cookies at home, it will be in the future, and that the present moment in Paris, which would then constitute the past, would be the memory I would attach to these cookies... so I stopped trying to figure out what other more distant thing they were reminiscent of. Here I offer you the recipe for what I now think of as the cookies i ate whilst walking around alone in Paris. It's nice to be writing here again. I had really missed it.


Sablé Au Beurre

150g unsalted butter at room temperature
115 g white sugar
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla (his recipe calls for vanilla powder but i used extract)
1.4 tsp citrus zest (whatever you have on hand)
2c A.P. flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt

Preheat oven to 350 and line two baking trays with parchment or silicone.

With a Hand mixer, beat the sugar and butter for 3 minutes on medium speed. It will be light and fluffy. Then add the egg, vanilla, and zest. Beat one more minute. In a separate bowl, whisk together the dry ingredients. Add the two together and mix until the mixture is crumbly.

Turn out onto a floured board and bring the dough together with your hands. form a short thick log and cut it in half. Press each half down slightly into a disc, wrap in plastic a refrigerate for 15minutes. Using a rolling pin and on a floured surface, roll out to about 1/4" thickness, cut into desired shapes and place on a parchment lined baking tray.

These cookies should not spread, so they do not need to be too spaced out. Using a sharp knife score the surface of the cookies and brush the tops with egg wash (1egg beaten with 1tsp milk or water). Bake 8-12minutes or until the tops are golden brown.

NOTE: if you are baking in batches, keep what you are not baking in the fridge while the rest bake, and apply the egg wash JUST before putting the cookies in the oven. Also, the the cookies I ate in paris were the size of the palm of my hand, but I only have smaller cutters, which make cookies this size:

A Little Break

It's that time of year. My students' grades are almost all submitted, and the restaurant where I work is closing for two weeks. I get a break, and that means I get to pack a bag (and Pinot) and go to my sister's for ten days. In anticipation of this departure, I have been solemnly consuming ONLY the contents of my fridge and pantry, and trying very hard not to open anything that I can't finish in a few days. This morning I had the last of my yogurt with pomegranate seeds (from this week's salad), juiced the last grapefruit, and spread some butter on my last pieces of toast. I was dying to bake something because I had the whole morning to myself, but I held back like a reasonable person should. Instead I went for a walk, and to run some errands. On my way to the bank I remembered being told yesterday that the lovely people at The Planet Bakery will be baking banana bread muffins today, so I went. First I ate one muffin. Then I purchased two more. They were that good. The amazing Dahn of Planet Bakery just shared the recipe for what I honestly think are the best muffins, ever. I'm sharing the recipe with you now, because I think it's so funny that even on the day I decided not to cook/bake anything, I end up with a recipe. Try these, I know I will!

"Hey, Mina! Thanks for all the muffin love. Here's the recipe. I want to start sharing and typing up all these well-loved recipes kicking around (my head and my apt)"

Banana Bread Muffins Makes 4 large bakery style muffins

Wet
3 ripe bananas, mashed
1 flax 'egg'
1/3 cup Earth Balance/Margarine
Dry
1.5 cups all purpose flour

1/2 cup sugar

1 tsp bkg. Powder
1 tsp bkg. Soda
1/2 tsp salt
Topping
2 tbs flour
2 tbs rye flakes
1 tbs Earth Balance/Margarine
1/8 tsp cinnamon

1/3 cup brown sugar

Beat wet ingredients together. Sift dry ingredients together. Whip sugar topping ingredients together. Combine as gently as possible, wet to dry, and spoon batter into greased tins. Top the muffins. Bake at 350*F for 30 mins, checking the inside with a toothpick.

Taking Care and Smiling Lots

Meet Pinot: possibly the sweetest and most loving kitten in the northern hemisphere. I'm not gonna tell you about all the sweet things he does and how cuddly he is and all the adorable places he finds for napping. Instead I'm gonna tell you about how interesting it's been caring for a living thing that is vulnerable and depends on me. Come to think of it, in the past few months I've done a lot of caring. At work too, I've been involved in quite a few of my students' personal issues this year. It wasn't something I had anticipated, but what do you do when someone shows up with bloodshot eyes and a lump in their throat trying to keep it together? I found myself in that situation quite a few times this year. Over cups of tea and hours on the swivel chairs in my office I've heard about parents' divorces, sibling drama, loss, anxiety, confusion, and many a break-up... Now that the term draws to a close, I grade their final papers and smile at all the little personal notes and e-mails they have sent me expressing their appreciation. I'm home a lot these days, grading papers and calculating marks... so I've been cooking a lot too. Here is what I ate today. The salad was for lunch and Pinot loved running after every stray pomegranate seed that escaped me... And the gnocchi was for dinner. I haven't even done the dishes yet.

Christmas Salad

Arugula
Cucumber
Gala Apple
Pomegranate seeds
Dressing:
1 tpsp Olive oil
1 tbsp Balsamic /red wine vinegar
1 tsp honey
salt+pepper to taste

I used my mandolin to get a quick and fine julienne of the cucumber and apple, and the arugula and pomegranate are pretty self explanatory. I have a whole entire post on how to deal with a pomegranate if you feel you need help with that.

I like making the dressing in a big bowl and tossing the ingredients in it. I find it all comes together better this way.

Potato Gnocchi

2 lb Russet or Idaho Potatoes
1 1/2 cups All purpose flour (plus a pinch of fresh ground nutmeg)
1 Large egg beaten
1/2 tbsp Salt

Flour for dusting and rolling.

Wash the potatoes and place in a large pot with the skins on and fill with water. Boil until tender but firm. 10-15 minutes should do the trick. Peel when still hot but cool enough to handle. You can use a paper towel if you still have any sensation in your hands, unlike me.

Put potatoes through a potato ricer onto a cutting board and shape into a well. Sprinkle the area with flour and put the egg yolk in the center of the well and begin your mixing and kneading, incorporating all the flour and adding a bit more if needed (if you've never done this before, use a large bowl to avoid messing it all up).

Knead the dough for a few minutes until it comes together and doesn't stick, but not too much because you don't want to lose the softness of your dough. Let it sit for 30min-1 hour. This would be a good time to pour yourself a glass of wine and make a tomato sauce or a pesto...

Divide the dough, shape long strings that you can cut into 1inch nuggets and shape using a gnicchi board or fork. I recommend you look up a video to learn how to shape gnocchi. Try to find one starring an Italian grandmother... they're the best.

To cook, just bring a pot of salted water to a boil and toss in a handful of Gnocchi. When they float to the surface they are done. I like a simple lemon and butter sauce with whatever fresh herb I have lying around. To make it I melt a spoonful of butter with some lemon juice, zest, and a bit of thyme in a frying pan, and add my cooked gnocchi with a tbsp of the cooking water and toss until it looks saucy and right. Fresh cracked pepper, grated parmigiano, and you're good to go.

You could also eat these with any other sauce you like. And you can freeze the uncooked gnocchi if you've got any left.

of other comforts...

The heart is an inconsistent organ. Not the anatomical heart (though, even that is prone to palpitations) but rather that proverbial organ we associate with all that the mind refuses to take responsibility for. The same trivial thing that excites and fascinates it one day, will deplete and bruise it the next day. It craves, indulges, ignores, forgives... all in the blink of an eye. Mine was in pretty rough shape a few weeks ago, and since heartache isn't something you can call in sick for, I took my troubled little heart with me to work. Eight hours, many diners, and a few heart-felt conversations later, I was so surprised to be walking home with my heart set on recovery. I knew I was feeling better because the thought at the tip of my mind was how I would go home and try making this soup. The girls I worked with that day, with their timely humor, unassuming wisdom, and genuine conversation, had managed not only to make me feel better about my uncertainties, but given me something to excitedly put an apron on for... Incidentally the two ideas they planted in my head practically spell comfort: baked potato soup and banana marshmallows. At some point that night after a bowl of hearty soup and a cup of hot chocolate (marshmallows as my excuse) I sat on my bed with a book and smiled... and to smile when no one's looking? Well that's really something...


Baked Potato (and leek) Soup

2-3 tablespoons butter or olive oil
4 leeks, washed and sliced
salt
1 teaspoon chopped fresh thyme; optional
1/4 teaspoon chile powder
3 cups water
3 cups stock
1 1/4-pounds (600 g) potatoes, baked, pealed and cubed (in that order)
2 bay leaves
1/2 teaspoon freshly-ground white pepper
sour cream, bacon bits, and chives for topping

In a large pot over medium heat melt the butter or heat the olive oil.

Toss in the sliced leeks and season well. Cook the leeks over medium heat for 5-7 minutes, stirring until they’re soft and wilted.

Add the thyme, if using, and chile powder, and stir for another minute, cooking them with the leeks to release their aroma.

Add stock, potatoes and bay leaf. Cover and simmer for 15 minutes, then fish out the bay leaves and puree the soup in a blender adding warm water if too thick.

Top with a dollop of good sour creme, a hand-full of chopped chives, and some bacon bits.

Homemade Banana Marshmallows

2 tbsp gelatin

3/4 c water

1 c sugar

3/4 c corn syrup

1/2 tbsp pure vanilla extract

1/2 tbsp banana flavor/extract/essence
1 pinch salt

Line a shallow baking dish with parchment paper or foil and dust the paper with powdered sugar.

In a small bowl sprinkle the gelatin powder over 1/4 cup of the water. Add the sugar to the remaining water in a pot and heat until warm but not hot. Add the gelatin mixture to the warm syrup and stir until fully melted.

Pour this mixture into a large bowl. Add the corn syrup, vanilla, and banana extracts, and begin beating with an egg beater at high speed. Don't be alarmed by the brown colour... if you beat it for long enough it will be good and the colour will disappear.

Continue beating until the mixture cools, increases in volume, and forms soft peaks. Working quickly before the mixture fully sets in the bowl, transfer to the pan that you have prepared. Smooth the top with a wet spatula and let stand for three hours.

Turn out, cut and coat with powdered sugar.

...and as for hearts, well,
hearts will never be practical
until they can be made unbreakable...

I Didn't Mean to...

Do you know my band mate Michael? I tease him all the time for being a vegan. Yesterday when we were having coffee arguing about band names he decided to order breakfast and as I watched him eat his toast and beans I got a massive meat chili and corn bread craving. I started listing the ingredients in my head: Beef, beans, peppers, onion, garlic, tomatoes, carrot, chilies, spices... I had everything at home. I thought I'll go home, put in a load of laundry, run out and pick up some meat, and make chilli. Long story short, I did a massive grocery shop, and forgot to buy meat. So what started out as a reactionary meat craving ended up being totally vegan in spite of my intentions... It was still delicious. The corn bread is a must. It's dead easy and seals the whole chilli deal like no other bread.


Accidentally Vegetarian (vegan in fact) Chili

2 Medium Sweet Potatoes
1 Large Spanish Onion
1 Red Bell Pepper (use 2 if they're small)
2 Small Carrots
1 Red/green chili deseeded and finely chopped
2 Cloves Garlic
1 Can Chopped Tomatoes
2 Cans Beans (I used black beans and kidney beans because that's what I had in my pantry)
Dry:
ground chipotle peppers
dry ground chili (ancho if you can get some)
paprika
cumin
cinnamon
ground coffee

Peal and dice the sweet potatoes, toss them in olive oil, salt, cumin, cinnamon, and paprika. Roast on a tray in a 375degree oven until soft and golden.

In the mean time, put a large pan on a medium-high heat and add a couple of lugs of olive oil. Add the onion, peppers, carrot, and garlic and cook for 5 minutes shaking things around every minute or so. Season with dry spices to taste, add the fresh chili and cook for another 10 or so minutes until everything is tender and well seasoned

Drain and rinse the beans, then tip them into the pan with the tinned tomatoes and juice. Stir well and bring to a boil, then reduce to a medium-low heat and leave to thicken for 25 to 30 minutes and add a splash of water if it's getting too thick.

Stir the sweet potatoes in and serve with sour cream and a few pieces of corn bread. I like to butter and grill my cornbread because I have a stove top griddle that's perfect for it. You could serve yours however you like it.

Light Corn Bread (not the buttery southern type, but a more bready kind that I like for grilling and with chili)

1C Flour
1C Cornmeal
4tbsp Sugar
1tbsp Baking Soda
1tsp Salt
2 Eggs
1C Plain Yogurt/low fat sour cream
1tbsp Olive Oil
One Chopped Deseeded Chilli (optional)

Preheat oven to 200/400 and grease a cast iron pan.
Mix all dry ingredients. Beat egg with yogurt and olive oil. Add to dry ingredients and mix until homogenous. Add chillies if using. Pour into pan and bake25-30 minutes or until a toothpick comes inserted in the centre comes out clean.