Kaka...

not a poo, not a soccer player, just a cannoli.

Mallory, that looks like poo. Are we supposed to eat it? This month's Daring Bakers Challenge was unfortunately not gummi bears like i had predicted, but something much better, something i have always dreamed about baking. Oh wait, no baking involved. Have i told you that i hate deep frying? Well, i will tell you now. Save doughnuts and chiros, anything coming out of a fryer looks like a piece of crap. More honesty box? Cannolis have got to be the ugliest confection in the book. They are unattractive, look like a cross between a cigar and a poo that is starting to get furry on the ends. And they are a pill to make. Appetizing non? You want to make them now? Go for it, millions of people love them, and for those who don't eat with their eyes first, well they are perfect for you. Have i ever wanted to make a cannoli? No. I am 100% about appearances, if it doesn't look good, the photo won't look good. So how do you make a turd look good? Damn near impossible if you ask me. But you didn't ask me, so we'll try. We don't accept defeat with grace here at the Salty Cod, no we will curse and throw the dough mass in the trash and start over before accepting defeat, even with the chuckles burning down out neck. Oh cannoli you have spleaned me, at least now though we have met. Will you ever be on our bakery menu? Absolutely not. But you know, as with all thing in life, it is never pointless to have performed a task you disliked, you can't know that you don't like something until you try it. So here is the story of a white chocolate cannoli named kaka.

Purple and black are really hot right now. Said the grasshopper. I decided that if i had to make cannolis, i might as well make them when i had to cook, so i waited for Thanksgiving like every other American Daring Baker did. Who wants a Cannoli on Thanksgiving? Well, maybe the Italian American families do; mine is not far from an that though. A gaggle of French Canadian immigrants and a few Norwegians who think they are Vikings and you have a loud yelling stereotypical Italian family dinner table. Brilliant! Back to the story. Cannolis, hmm. The idea in the mind was dough dyed black filled white; piano key cannolis. As i made up the dough and began to fry, my uncle bellows from behind me, that looks like a dog turd!! A fried kaka! Joy. And i still have half the dough left. The rest of the family looks at them nervously, then finishes in a bout of laughter. My aunt adds, oh like krumkaka (Norwegian cookie cone) certainly is kaka! In my defense, i cry, hey! i didn't want to make these! and besides, they'll look better when they are filled. As the rest of my family were to arrive the next day i thought, damn, i better start a batch over. Black cannolis sound better in theory. So next morning, new batch. This time, purple.

The purple didn't solicit much praise either. Oh well, now it's all about the photo. Who cares if they taste like kaka, they'll at least match their appearance. I made up the cream. Shit, didn't drain the ricotta. Try number two, i'm not doing too well with this recipe apparently. 0 for 2. I frost their beards as i wait for it to chill, melted white rolled in crumbled white. Chocolate, that is. Will this damn recipe ever end. Piped. Time for some photos. Will we manage? Will we make the kaka look like a jewel? Is it possible? A Thanksgiving miracle perhaps? At this time i think of Martha Stewart, they say Martha could wrap a poo in tin foil and make a pretty ornament. Martha eh...i can turn this kaka into something that glitters like gold. Really? No. But a girl can dream can't she.

To be fair to the cannoli, appearances aren't everything. They were consumed lickety-split. Beauty is on the inside? Indeed. Said the cannoli to the biscotti: will you still love me when i lose my looks? The reply: honey, i didn't marry you for your looks. Love is blind. Cannolis are a delightful treat (those who ate them reported to me) despite their appearance. Daring Bakers i wanted to yell that this challenge was a fail, but i suppose failing would only be giving up. May we please do something with a cake, a cookie, a bread next time? Anna i'm talking to you.

The cannolis came, the cannolis went. If anything they gave us all a laugh, i always want a kitchen filled with laughter. Thanksgiving at my aunt's house has always been my favorite. And i have no doubt that i will miss it for many years to come, but will be able to look back on it with a wry smile in remembrance of the sweet, crispy fried kaka.

This month's Daring Bakers Challenge was chosen and hosted by Lisa Michele of Parsley, Sage, Desserts and Line Drives. The cannoli recipe is from the book Lidia’s Italian-American Kitchen by Lidia Matticchio Bastianich and from The Sopranos Family Cookbook by Allen Rucker; recipes by Michelle Scicolone, as ingredient/direction guides. Unfortunately the recipe was not completely the same as from the book....so neither was mine true to the adapted recipe posted. I found the dough much too difficult to work with the first time around (sorry Lisa) and therefore went with an alternative recipe. So who's did i go with? A non-adapted cannoli shell recipe from At Home with Michael Chiarello, and i filled it with a ricotta mousse rather than cream to give it a little more structure.

Ingredients: 2 cups flour, 2 tsp sugar, 1/4 tsp salt, 3 tbsp white vinegar, 3 eggs (BIG difference from the recipe used for the challenge), 2 tbsp melted butter, 3 tbsp water (i used wine for the purple color) and oil for frying. The method will follow the same as the recipe used for the challenge.

The kakas were not so bad, i suppose. Will i make these again? I think you'd have to hold a gun to my head. Though if the cannoli are here already, you must have left the gun. Couldn't resist, i'm sure every Daring Baker this month quoted the Godfather at least once. In the end, i believe this was exactly what i needed. A humbling reminder that there are many thousands of things i am no good at making, and that even when you are fumbling in the kitchen, when you are fumbling with your family around, it is all worth it. This is a Thanksgiving i will remember with a smile, and who knows, maybe next year when i feel a nostalgia for Thanksgiving, maybe i'll make a batch of cannolis to remember and laugh. Only joking, not even for sappiness would i make these again. Cannolis, i quit you!

Ano da França...

Tropical French Macarons for a Sweet Victory

It's been nearly a month since Rio de Janeiro was chosen to host the 2016 summer Olympics. If somehow you hadn't yet heard, just pretend you did. Rio beat out Chicago, Madrid and Tokyo in the bid to hold the 2016 games, the city was chosen October 4th in Copenhagen, a decision that has sparked much joy coupled by expected grief. For Brazilians, for South Americans, and for anyone else who has a soul (mmm) the Rio victory symbolizes both a boost for Brazilian nationalistic pride (only a few Brazilians already have big heads) and a reaffirmation that indeed Latin America is finally coming into the world spotlight it has long deserved. Naturally there has been quite a bit of hesitation from both the Brazil-lovers and Brazil-haters (is there even such a thing? a Brazil-hater?) on the chosen city; "Rio is such a dangerous city" - "The money could be put to better use" - "All those tourists, such easy targets, Rio is a war-zone, what are they thinking!?" bla bla bla. But true. Sure Rio has a lot of problems, watch City of God and you won't disagree. But there are thousands of people living in Rio who aren't murderers, drug dealers, gang members, thieves, or helicopter snipers. There are millions of good people living in Rio and around Brazil who deserve the Olympic games. So here at the Salty Cod we wish to ask you to stop thinking about the negative aspects of Rio 2016, and instead close your mouth (preferably over a macaron), lay down your doubts, and celebrate with us that World Cup and the Olympics are going to be back-to-back in a country that will very soon take over the world. This is not a political blog, but we wish never-the-less to say stick it Chicago. Is there writing in the sky? BRASIL!!!


For those of you who don't know, one of our staff members here at the Salty Cod happens to be a Brazilian, so there has been much celebrating in and around the office and test kitchens. So what do we do to celebrate? Why, bake French pastries of course. With no room to brag in our novice qualifications as a patisserie (what qualifications?), I am quite good at making macarons. Yes, i said that. While no where near the skill set of say Helen or Aran whose recipes i've used over the past couple of years to navigate making my own macarons, i've done it enough, (and in quantities that would make some cry), that i know the ratios and timings in my head. What can i say, i like macarons. I lived in Paris, they are gluten-free, and i'm a self absorbed snob who secretly revels in the smug-pleasure of knowing that mine turned out with feet and yours need to see a podiatrist. Either way, a personal treat for a personal topic (mmm yes i take Olympics very personally). So i decided to make macarons, it's the year of France in Brazil anyways, so c'est absolutement parfait pour l'occassion. Then i realized Daring Bakers was doing October challenge macarons- merde, are you kidding me? Well, can't post macarons twice in a month. So. I'll save my idea. And celebrate my (excuse me, their) victory at the end of the month. This is my second month with Daring Bakers, and so far it has not been quite all that daring. Puff pastry and macarons....perhaps next month will be gummy bears.

What makes these macarons Brasilian besides their tri-color? There are Brazil nuts ground in with the almonds in the shells, and the fillings are assorted cheese mixtures with tropical fruit. Idea Original: creamed cheese with guava, but, no guavas in this part of the world. Ergo Idea Supplemental: creamed cheese with pineapple, creamed cheese with banana, and creamed cheese with avocados and apples. Is that a Brasilian macaron? Yes. Yes it is, verdade! Are there any macarons in Brazil now? I will say most likely not. Will that always be the case? Most certainly not.

So what do you know about Brazil aside from the capital as Buenos Aires (please catch my sarcasm here), tropical fruit hats, beautiful naked women, coconut water on the beach, hunky Latin lovers (scratch that), and children playing barefoot soccer in the womb? Nothing? Oh come on, even doctors had ideas. The smartest of medical school trained professionals know to ask (i am referring to my own...lady doctor here) if there are refrigerators in Brazil. Hmm, good question, as it may be difficult to hook up electricity to the Amazonian tree-houses all Brazilians live in. Well, maybe there is no Spanish word for refrigerator. To this point i believe the Rio Olympics are justified in of themselves; the world will be forced (through a month long series of Travel-Channel specials, McDonalds commercials and Visa advertisements) to see that Brazil is not a country of jungle people in grass skirts; me Tarzan you Jane- but a country as, if not more, rich and diverse than all the other tough guys out there. The Olympics may not be for 7 more years, but well, i think it's worth making a note today, tomorrow, and everyday. Carnival is year round non?! So why not the Olympics!

This month's Daring Bakers challenge was hosted by Amy S of (i have no idea what her blog is). The recipe is by Claudia Fleming and is found in The Last Course: The Desserts of Gramercy Tavern. However, as i enjoy making macarons, i suggest you try using instructions from Helen of Tartelette, she is, without hesitation, a great teacher for those wishing to attempt a macaron for the first or twentieth time.

Petite French cookies to celebrate such a thing? What can i say, j'adore le Bresil.

*disclaimer: yes i know the capital or Brasil is Brasila not Buenos Aires and that Brasilians speak Portuguese not Spanish.....don't yell at me i was trying to be funny to make a point!

a bientot

Peter Piper Pipped

Cracked: Vols-au-Vent for Daring BakersWhy the hell does it seem ages since i have been here? Probably because it has. I will tell you how truly painful it is for a blogger to be cut from their lifeblood, from their home: (play your small violin now) it is not unlike pepper spray reaching your cornea, or being stabbed in the thigh with a dull blade, or hitting your head on the corner of a pointy cabinet; a hiatus here at the Salty Cod is like, well it is......making us realize that life is not always as easy as we would like it to be.

I don't think we ever stop going through transitions, whether it is adapting to a new place of habitation, a new job, a new relationship or a new idea; we are constantly going through today what changes our habits of yesterday. When i started this blog almost two and a half years ago (had to make sure to get that half in there...i'm 5'9 and a quarter, don't forget that quarter) i started a habit of myself that i fell in love with. Nothing could keep me from blogging. I'm in a random foreign country alone on a park bench: blog. Last karaoke night of the year at the Irish Pub down the road: blog. Easter, Christmas, thanksgiving: blog. It's 2am and there are yet 3,000 more words due on Alexander's trek through the Orient: blog. Will you go on a date with me: blog. Sleep: blog. Girl's night out cocktails: blog. I have chosen blogging over many things; aside from an ailing family member or friend, what is there that i do, or could do that is more important than this?

Oops. It appears that there is something after all. This revelation, however, does not attach any less importance to Salty. no no nothing like that. In the end what it is is realizing that i don't blog because i have to, i blog because i choose to. And sometimes, i have to choose to wait. Transitions. Transitions are glasses that let you go from dark to light without changing them. But they are also moments when you stack your priorities and weigh the outcomes. Oftentimes, the result is an exploded suitcase and a never-ending cup of tea.

I am twenty three years old. I am sure you were twenty three years once. I graduated college nearly 5 months ago, and am adjusting to two new jobs that take six of my seven days....i'm back with my parents for a bit, did you know? Do you care? I am preparing my rook, bishop, and queen for a move that you will not believe; and it is in the middle of this that i have realized that there are times when we have to sacrifice what we want in the moment in order to get what we want for the future.

But now, we have a post. Three weeks in want, we have a post. In conversation with my editor (who obviously hasn't had much to edit) i realized that the ducks were finally falling into the basket, and that it was finally ok to blog. and the tears come streaming down my face! But oh holy crap! I had forgotten i had finally signed up for the Daring Bakers, after a two (and a half) year stint of protest (daringness for being different) i sucked it up and cracked and wanted in! and i'm almost ready to be kicked out on the first challenge, ahk!

so apparently there is an actual due date that is not just the end of the month...forgive me, i'm blond. will that work? If anyone yells at me, i would just like to point out that Christy at 5 Types of Sugar was late too. Saying that sounds like she's pregnant (she's not) but i love giving her a hard time.

So i rushed to the secret club page (only secret club members are allowed in)...puff pastry. ah ok. i've done puff pastry. wait....puff pastry, dear god why! of all things other than baguettes, puff pastry takes hours! gaw! I don't mind making puff pastry, had i not spent many hours making it about two months ago, i wouldn't have minded so much....but it really is (pardon me) quite a bitch to make. Well. a challenge is a challenge is it not. Touche.

Vols-au vont is the actual challenge; a puff pastry cup filled with a sweet or savory. My only edge is that i have made these before, a Christmas party about three years ago filled with a spinach concoction i have yet forgotten. But on a strict time budget, puff pastry is no bueno. Meh. Salty is no wimp. Alright, Sunday we make the puff pastry dough, and Monday we bake it up. Now we must be creative with the filling...did you know that red peppers can grow in a Seattle backyard garden? they can. hmmm. peppers. Pepper, cheese, cream, cilantro, salsa cream pipped into a puff pastry! Ah sweet that's fast!

The recipe for puff pastry dough can be found here, as the September 2009 Daring Bakers' challenge was hosted by Steph of A Whisk and a Spoon. The Vols-au-Vent are based on the Puff Pastry recipe by Michel Richard from the cookbook Baking With Julia by Dorie Greenspan.

Pepper pipped mouse:
ingredients:
8 oz cream cheese
1 cup whipping cream
1 bell pepper
2 tsp bloomed gelatin
chopped cilanto
enough salt to taste
red/cayenne pepper (did you know they're the same?)

method: mix all ingredients (except cream) in blender or food processor until smooth. Whip cream until stiff, gently fold in mixture, and pipe into your cups.

As i've already said, i've made puff pastry for croissants before. However what was produced here, was not puff pastry. hard. dense. where are the flakes? are there any flakes? i am not exactly sure what went wrong, perhaps i was too violent with the poor dough, or went too fast. but i think in the end it was my attitude. in mallory fashion, of course. Well, now we know. take more care, or you will have a ton of pie dough in the freezer.

So i guess i'm a daring baker now, right? no hazing? well. maybe not yet. i'm on the in-crown of baking blogging now eh? we'll see how long i keep it up. but. you know. i think i just may do it.

Change is good. change means we're learning. i like this home here too much to ever give it up. but i must drop my infantile ideas of its condition-less priority. Maybe there will be three weeks again where i cannot come home. In a perfect world, i come home every week. but life's not perfect.

yet.

A challenge just means i have to work harder to get it. if you didn't fight for it; sometimes it is not worth having. we're here. we're baking. we're photographing. we're growing. and we're figuring out the tricks. so keep with me friends. i won't disappoint.

a bientot.