Buttermints…FAIL

crumble

“One of the secrets, and pleasures, of cooking is to learn to correct something if it goes awry; and one of the lessons is to grin and bear it if it cannot be fixed.” –Julia Child

Life has been nuts of late: I’ve been traveling more than I care to, work has been busier than ever, and I’ve been in the throes of dealing with a genetic autoimmune disorder (no, it’s not AIDS) which has decided to flare up after 25 years of being mostly nothing more than a mild nuisance. One effect of this latter issue is that I can’t have any alcohol and I hate to, yet must admit: cooking is not as much fun when I can’t enjoy a glass of wine while cutting an onion and another glass or two while eating the meal. I might have to change the name of this blog to “Chop. Stir.” Maybe “Chop. Cry. Stir.” Hopefully this is a temporary setback, but I’ll keep you posted.

I decided it was a good time to try that buttermint recipe I posted about a few weeks ago. You know buttermints: they are those lightly minty, pillowy nuggets of sweetness often found in pastel colors and served by the spoonful near the cash registers of medium-fancy restaurants or found at wedding receptions. They dissolve almost instantly on the tongue. They are divine. I love them.

I read three different versions of buttermint recipes and decided on the recipe posted on The Splendid Table website, except for two changes: I added 3 additional tablespoons of butter and–after reading dozens of accounts of powdered sugar explosions and the failure of the butter and powdered sugar to incorporate into anything resembling dough–I first melted the butter. This appeared to work out fine and I successfully created a kneadable sugar/butter/mint extract dough to which I added a bit of food coloring, but that was the end of my success.

I next attempted to roll the dough into thin, long “logs” to cut into mints and every attempt yielded the crumbled (pink) mass you see in the photo above.

I was frustrated.

My heart wasn’t into it.

But… I didn’t want to entirely give up, so I flattened a portion of the dough and cut it into tiny squares which I then placed on a cookie sheet to dry overnight.

plan b

The end product, the mints themselves, taste ok. They don’t taste great and they don’t look like they’re supposed to. To be honest, my heart wasn’t in it. I am thankful that I can buy these mints at the grocery store.

funny mints

I have one more week of hotel-living ahead of me and then I’ll hopefully be home for a few weeks or even a month. That will be nice. I’d like to buy ingredients for cooking meals that signify I’m home for a while as opposed to buying take-out because I’m home only long enough to unpack, do laundry, and re-pack.

I’m happy to say that the buttermints (and other recent personal trials) have not killed my kitchen spirit. We all fail sometimes and it’s those failures that make our victories so sweet. Not that I’m Picasso or anything, but I am pretty damn sure he painted some flops. And, hey, the Tower of Pisa leans. Even Julia herself admits to many cooking mishaps. So, dear friends, just don’t give up.

Yours in the kitchen.

Italian Beef Stew

Finished plate 1

“The trouble with eating Italian food is that five or six days later you’re hungry again.” –George Miller

Happy New Year! If you were foolish enough to make food related resolutions, today is the day to forget them. If you resolve to change anything about the way you eat, I beg of you to simply eat well, to eat whole foods and perhaps, if anything, to eat just a bit less at each meal. But for the sake of living well, do not ban butter. Or wine or beef or potatoes, all of which you will find in this luscious, hearty recipe.

ingredients

This recipe for Sugo di Carne comes from Portland’s longstanding and divine little Italian eatery Caffe Mingo. I was first introduced to Caffe Mingo in my mid-twenties and I swear this restaurant is where my taste buds really came to life. If you haven’t been, it’s a tremendously tiny restaurant in a trendy, old Portland neighborhood. You have to put your name in for a table and then disappear into a neighboring bar for 45 minutes to an hour to sip a cocktail and stare at your cell phone like a 16 year-old girl. But the wait is worth it: the pasta is made fresh each day, as are many of the cheeses. The wine selection is perfect year-round and the view into the open kitchen is better than watching The Food Network, especially if you’re dining solo at the heavily lacquered wooden bar. I have many years of fond Caffe Mingo food memories and for a long time I ached to recreate their Sugo di Carne at home. Then one fine evening I spotted a stack of postcards on the bar, picked one up and flipped it over to find the treasured house recipe.

I will say this about this recipe: don’t mess with it. It is deceptively simple and yet it’s this very simplicity that creates a final dish that will transport you at the first bite. Close your eyes and you’ll swear you’re in Italy, the weather is fine, and days and weeks of adventure and exploration await you. I have made this dish for dinner parties small and large and it’s always a smashing success. This version serves 4-6 quite generously, 8-10 if you add a salad and some bread, and if you have leftovers, consider yourself quite lucky and enjoy them.

Caffe Mingo serves their Sugo di Carne atop penne pasta, but if you’re in the mood for real comfort food, as we were on Christmas Eve, it’s fantastic served with mashed potatoes and cooked carrots. On this particular evening, I broke my own “don’t mess with this recipe” rule, roughly chopped a few carrots and tossed them into the top of the pot about two and a half hours into cooking. If you do the same, do not stir the carrots into the stew.

cetamura chianti

A note about the wine: cook only with wine you are delighted to drink. Some people think it’s wasteful to use good wine in food that will be cooking for a long time, but those people are misinformed and you should decline their dinner invitations. The flavor of the wine will be imparted to the food, so it’s important to cook with wine you enjoy the taste of. I found this Chianti at New Seasons and while it was in the $10 price range, it was dark and delicious.

Sugo di Carne

Ingredients

3 lbs Beef Bottom Round, cut into 2″ pieces (your butcher can do this for you)
1 Cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter
2 red onions, sliced
2/3 bottle of Chianti
1 28-ounce can of whole, peeled tomatoes
1 Cup Espresso (if you don’t have a machine at home, buy a cup’s worth from your local coffee shop)
salt and pepper
Grated parmesan cheese for serving

Season the meat with salt and pepper and let it sit at room temperature for about a half hour.

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Using a large Dutch oven, or similar stove-top and oven-friendly pot, melt the butter over medium heat and saute the onions for 5 minutes. Remove the pan from the heat, add the meat, wine, espresso, and the can of tomatoes with their juice. Cover the pot and place it in the oven where you will simply leave it for 4 hours. Don’t open the lid to check on it. Just go take a nap or a bubble bath or relax with a good book and the remaining Chianti. If you’re having guests over for dinner, this is the perfect time to clean your house!

After the 4 hours have passed, remove the meat from the Dutch oven with a slotted spoon and then shred it using a couple of forks. For the sauce that remains in the pan, you’ll want to pass this through a food mill. If, like me, you don’t own a food mill you can use a hand mixer. Add the shredded meat back into the blended sauce, serve over pasta al dente or mashed potatoes with a sprinkle of grated parmesan and enjoy!

cooking

Yours in the kitchen.