Bluebarb equals rhubarb plus blueberries and it is quite possibly my favorite pie. Apple is also high on the list, and pumpkin…I just really like pie. And what better way to use the fruits of summer?

A Little Bit About Rhubarb

The sour, stalky rhubarb is actually a vegetable, though I have never heard of a savory recipe using rhubarb that doesn’t make my lips pucker. Reading more about the plant, I was hopping to discover it as a secret nutrition powerhouse, but it only offers a meager amount of vitamins C and A. The addition of  blueberries to the ‘barb boosts both the antioxidant and vitamin C concentration in the pie.

However rhubarb is not totally worthless (besides being delicious of course).  The ancient Chinese commonly used rhubarb to induce vomiting. Centuries later, in Europe during the fifteen and sixteen hundreds rhubarb in dried form sold for similar medicinal purposes for ten times the price of cinnamon and double that of opium. And I only pay a dollar for it at the farmers market. Lucky me!

Photo by SmittenKitchen

Yesterday Marshal brought me a bundle of rhubarb from the farmers market and asked very nicely if I would make him a pie. He also brought sunflowers and a dashing smile, just to sweeten the deal. I happily complied.

Bluebarb Pie (Recipe adapted from Cooks Illustrated)

2 1/2 cups all purpose flour
1/2 cup fine or medium ground cornmeal
1 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons salt
7 tablespoons crisco cut into pieces (I know, I know, but its great)
11 tablespoons cold butter cut into pieces
10 tablespoons ice water

2 teaspoons vegetable oil
1 or 2 bunches rhubarb (1-2 lbs) edges trimmed of gross bits, cut into 1- inch size pieces (5-6 cups)
1 pint blueberries
3/4 cup sugar plus a bit for dusting the top crust
3 tablespoons arrowroot ( a white powder found in the spice section)
Pinch o salt
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 egg white, beaten

Grab a nine inch pie pan and set the oven to 500 (scary, but the temp comes down right away)

1. This dough is very versatile. Keep some in the freezer for a spur-of-the-moment tart, crostata or pie . The addition of the cornmeal adds a welcome counterpoint texture to the smooth fruity insides. Pulse dry ingredients in the bowl of a food processor, till mixed. Add crisco and pulse until flour mixture looks like sand that’s about ready to make a castle, or about 5 seconds. Next add butter and blend with 12 1-second pulses.  The butter should be cut into the flour in blobs no bigger than small peas. Dump dough into large mixing bowl and sprinkle ice water over top. Press dough together with a spatula or your hands until it forms a ball. Divide dough into two parts, flatten each into 6 inch discs and refrigerate.

2. Heat the oil in a large sauce pan until very hot, then toss in rhubarb. Get ready! It’s going to sizzle and smoke! Add 1/4 cup of the sugar and cook until rhubarb has released most of its liquid but is still firm, roughly five minutes. Set in the fridge to cool.

3. Its time to roll out the dough! Take one of the discs out of the fridge and flour your work surface.  Now proceed to roll it out, adding as much flour as you go. It helps to rotate and turn the dough over as you work, that way it will be easier to plop in the pan.  Roll until dough is a fourth of an inch thick then place it in the pan, and put the pan in the fridge to keep the dough chilled.

4. Combine remaining sugar (plus more if you want a sweeter inside), arrowroot and salt in a small bowl. Now go fetch the cooled rhubarb and combine with blueberries in a large mixing bowl. Sprinkle sugar mixture over the fruit and gently mix, then pop the whole mess into the pie pan.

5. Proceed to roll out the other piece of dough. Gently slide it over the pie and trim off excess around the  edge, leaving enough to make a tasty crust. Now roll edge dough under and press with a fork to seal. Create 8 slices in the top to allow steam to escape.  Brush pie with beaten egg white and sprinkle with remaining tablespoon of sugar.

6.  If you’re afraid there is just too much goodness inside, place pie on a cookie sheet to catch any spills. Now its time to get this bad boy in the oven. Immediately lower the temperature to 475 and bake for 25 minutes, until crust is lightly golden. Then lower temperature again to 375 and continue to cook until fruit bubbles through the slits.

7. Wait as long as you possibly can to eat it. Shoot for a few hours. Seriously, its better when it doesn’t scald you. Oh, lastly, make sure you have good vanilla ice cream on hand!  Happy eating!

Bread, that is, bread. What did you think I meant?

Well I am back in action, the oven is hot and I have set off my fire alarm at least three times this week. Although I am just getting used to the ancient oven — the door doesn’t close all the way and the dial has no temperatures listed– I think the loaves are starting to have a good crust and crumb.

Let’s break it down: when you want a good crunchy chewy crust, you need to create steam. So as you slide the raw dough onto the hot baking stone you have to simultaneously pour a cup of water into an oven safe receptacle and slam the oven door shut. It’s not as complicated as it sounds, I promise.

The crumb is the inside of the bread. My current loaves are made from a combo of all purpose and rye flours, which yields a cakey interior, and a great depth of flavor.

Different flours mean different protein contents, a crucial concept in baking. High protein flours provide more structure and make more chewy bread, Lower protein flours, like cake flour make for a soft buttery inside. Rye flour generally hovers around 7-10 % protein content by weight whereas all purpose has about 12-14%. This all adds up to the best kind of bread, at least in my opinion.

So here is my proposal. I want to bake. I hope you want to eat. Want to barter? Want to buy some flour?

I should never have made a promise (or a statement) I couldn’t stick to.  I failed greatly at my blogging last week, which will hereby be known as the “Week of Bread.” But actually, the Week of Bread was something of a triumph, if  an undocumented one and from the looks of it this summer will be full of homemade boules.

In fact, my oven is beeping right now.  I just check, my semolina needs 3 more minutes.  The top is nicely brown and the diagonal score mark I cut just before baking has opened and allowed the loaf to rise.

I have always loved the concept of making my own bread for a lot of reasons.  First, it makes my house smell great, second, it’s incredible cheap and third it is therapeutic.  This all being said, it can be a time consuming activity.  Last summer I remember being late to an event or to meet a friend on more than on occasion due to rising or baking loaves.

Not so this year.  I’ve discovered a method developed by Zoë François and Jeff Hertzberg in their book “Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day”.  The central idea is bread making should be easy, fun, and non-intimidating. (My oven just went off again, the bread is done and cooling now.)

This summer, my family is not buying any artisan bread from the grocery store or a bakery.  Why would we? At $4.99 a loaf the “artisan breads aren’t’ worth it when I’m creating the same thing for about a $1.25. (yes, I did the calculations, and the yeast is the most expensive part.)

Thus far and the week of bread, we have eaten Italian Boule, Sourdough, Whole Wheat and Semolina. The semolina is my favorite. This loaf that came out today was cakey and delicious.  The only problem I am encountering (other than the stomach ache that follows eathing a whole loaf) is a slightly dough bottom.  I think I figured it out tonight: finer milled cornmeal to slide the dough into the hot oven. Tomorrow I’m giving it a go with flour instead.

This method is something I’m going to bring back to Northwestern in the fall.  When I’m not at home my baking stone goes unused so I’m taking it with me.  Talk about a way to make friends. Fresh bread anyone?

In Spain, April showers bring May flowers just like in the US, but April also brings Easter and the week long vacation called Semana Santa that directly precedes egg painting time.  In cities all throughout the country, the Cofradías, Fraternal Brotherhoods of the Church, process along twisting cobblestone roads, adored in white and gold and bearing statues of Christ and the saints on their backs.

I, on the other hand, watched the festivities on a small television hidden away in the beach town of Peñíscola, about 250 kilometers south of Barcelona.  This April’s Semana Santa did in fact bring a lot of rain, and while I tried to get a little tan (after a short polar plunge in the Mediterranean) my favorite part of the vacation ended up being my lesson in Torrijas, the traditional dessert of holy week.

Torrijas are essentially a fried version of French toast or portable bread pudding- bread, milk, sugar, eggs and spices (honey, muscatel wine and cinnamon are all added to the eaters liking).  Standing in the tiny, very humid kitchen with my Spanish host mother, I began my apprenticeship. Everyone’s recipe is a little different, but in this case, first we mixed milk, sugar, cinnamon, and muscatel wine in a bowl and submerged slices of bakery bread two at a time.  Meanwhile, I beat four eggs in a separate bowl and heated frying oil in a pan. After we had a stack of 12 or so bread slices, we dredged them in the eggs and fried them up.  Delicious? Obviously.  Heart attack?…probable.  This is not what my doctor had in mind when she said watch your cholesterol.

Torrijas, are ubiquitous during Semana Santa.  Bakeries, restaurants and even convenience stores hang sign in their windows—“Hay Torrijas”— to attract the sweet-toothed Spanish population. The classic postre originated in Spanish monasteries in the 15th century as a way to make good and cheap use of leftovers. This year, El Mundo, a Madrileño newspaper, estimated that 3 million torrijas were sold, or said another way, 375,000 kilos (787,100 pounds)!

For me, this pastry came at the perfect time, feeling a little homesick, nothing says comfort like a few warm torrijas and a spanish soap opera.

Here is Mark Bittman’s take on the Spanish treat, and because I trust him implicitly, give this one a whirl.  Plus, the recipe is in English.

It seems to me that there is never a wrong time to make an angel food cake.  In the summer the light, air texture fits the warm breezes and perfectly ripe berries, and in the winter its tender powder white crumb goes tuxedo with chocolate sauce. And near Christmas? A prefect moment for an angel.

First, a pause to address my blogging absence. Apologies for my lack of postings.  The end of the term got busy, busy, busy (though this is no excuse for not sharing my Thanksgiving day post.) Thanks for sticking with me, its much a appreciated.

Now back to the cake.  I adore the eggy angel food cake. I made it this year on my father’s birthday, a man who must vigilantly monitor his cholesterol, but has a pension for cookies of any kind. With no egg yolks and no fat, this was the perfect birthday treat (and lest the day go un-indulged, we added chocolate gelato, raspberries and whipped cream!).

As usual, here’s a little history and a little science.   Though its often overlooked now, this cake was wildly popular in the 1870’s because it was a favorite First Lady Lucy Hayes (wife of Rutherford B).  The cake’s origin is shrouded in questionable information but the story goes that a family from Atlantic City moved opened a boarding house along the Hudson Valley and met a man who gave them the recipe which he got from another friend who’d traveled in India.  He said, she said? I think so. Well, in any event, I’m pleased it made it here.

There are six ingredients in every angel food cake recipe: egg whites, cream of tartar, sugar, flour, salt and flavorings (vanilla, orange, almond other extract), and each do their part. Whipping egg whites can be intimidating, and since the air beaten into the whites is the only leavening agent, this step is vital to get right.   Cream of tartar’s acidic quality helps stabilize the egg whites and is added just as the whites are getting foamy in the whipping process.   When they look like soft, light, clouds, the sugar is added. The sugar gives body to the whites, and when the whites have turned shiny and hold stiff peaks, the whipping is done.  Then any flavor can be added, mixing just enough to incorporate. Then they look like this–>

Finally, the meager amount of flour is sifted over the top of the whites and folded in to finish the batter.  Check here for some good ideas.

I was really happy with the result I got on Sunday.  The texture was little bit more moist than I was expecting, but this only enhanced the deliciousness.  This cake has so many virtues, heathy, taste, and angelic.  I’m going to try some fun things with it next time, I’m thinking tie-dye. Oh, one last thought, save the egg yolks for a homemade ice cream or feed them to your dog.  My golden retreiver knows the sound of eggs cracking…..

Well, bakery style bread out of my kitchen. Who’d have thought? Not me, but look at this! Ooo, I’m quite proud of this one.

Again, I used Cooks Illustrated and benefited from a kitchen full of wild yeast zipping around the room. The more you bake the better it goes. This one is so easy, I could make a loaf everyday. The starter sits overnight (or at least 8 hours) and the next day, you make the dough, allow it to rise for a bit, then pour the gooey substance into a bowl. Instead of kneading, you “turn” the it, pulling one side onto the other. This process happens twice, resting 1 hour and “power rising” in between. When the dough has risen to its full potential in the bowl, you form the dough into a rectangle and fold it up, sealing in all the air pockets, like this:

My supple and smooth dough turned into magnificent bread. I ended up making two loaves and discovering in the process that my oven is an appalling 50 degrees slow. Depressing, and I now have to cook with an oven thermometer hanging from the rack. Despite the climate difficulties both breads yielded moist interiors and deep “bready” flavors. The crust was the best part. It was exceptional with good olive oil and cracked pepper.

A little science for you: Dried yeast is simply the fresh yeast (Saccharomyces cerevisiae) dehydrated. This applies to both active dry yeast and Instant (aka rapid-rise, quickrise and bread machine) yeast. When the yeast is dried, the dead cells form a protective layer around the living cells that activate to make the bread rise. There are fewer dead cells in rapid rise and, unlike active dry, it can be added directly to the bread without rehydration. Cool huh? I discovered this on Susan’s blog, Wild Yeast. I love it! So informative, well photographed and simply delicious. Thanks Susan!