In Which Beorn Finally Learns "Hot"

Drinking right now: Organic English Breakfast Black Tea, origin: India. $35.99/lb

I have all kinds of recipes to share in the next few posts, as I've had some really exciting suppers the last couple of days.

Ok, so they're not all suppers--one of them is. The others are just snacks. It's not that I intended to skip supper the last two nights, it's that I was making cheese yesterday and turned my back for a moment. I went to the fridge to help Razi, and  Beorn decided to try his hand at stirring the pot. He probably would have done well, had he moved the stool closer and not fallen against the pot and over the flame (I have a gas stove.)

Instead of cleaning the bedrooms as planned last night and today, we got to see Aunt Liz (who graciously drove an hour to bring us sterile pads and tape when I asked, then bought dinner for us when she saw how frazzled I was) and go to the doctor's office. There, I was grilled on the story of the burn, during which I had to assure them that my son was a devious little rascal and I was not abusive and/or neglectful. Thankfully, Beorn made my point for me by getting into office cabinets, using leverage to get into an office chair, and dragging other chairs around to try and get on top of things. After watching him, the nurse and doctor said Beorn is "extremely resourceful" for his age, which is a nice way of saying he's too smart for his own good.

Update: Today, their regular doctor saw Razi and told me that Beorn is operating on a 2 1/2+ year old level.

After the interrogation was done, the doctor looked at Beorn's arm and told me I'd done so well taking care of it that she gave it a zero chance of getting infected. She said it was a bad burn, but I'd acted quickly enough and was taking care of it well enough that she wasn't even going to have me pick up antibacterial cream. That was kind of nice to hear, though I'd rather not have gone through this entire experience just for that.

The Cheese That Started It All

The King of Ricotta: Salvatore Bklyn from SkeeterNYC on Vimeo.

I blame Deb of Smitten Kitchen for this new obsession: making my own Ricotta. She convinced me to try it through her engaging words and mouth-watering photos. I normally hate Ricotta; actually, probably the only reason I like this one is Deb (through Salvatore Bklyn) broke all the Ricotta-making rules with this recipe. It really comes out to a very nice, flavorful cream cheese in the end--at least how I make it. Rather, somewhere between cream cheese, whipped cream, and buttercream texture and richness.

As much as I hate Ricotta, I love cream cheese. My main issues with cream cheese are the price and the aftertaste. Maybe I'm totally imagining this, but most cream cheese tends to taste a little metallic-y by the end of the bagel (or piece of toast), especially after the package has been open more than 24 hours. I found I could avoid this with good/organic cream cheese--but at that point, I'm paying $4+ for 8 oz or less. I was delighted to find that this recipe was extremely easy (I saved it even while tending to a burned baby-arm this last time, after all) and pretty cheap.

Deb makes this with what she calls "really, really fresh milk." I bought plain whole milk the first time I made it, and it was wonderful. To satisfy my ethical concerns this second time, I bought organic milk and cream; a little more pricey, but not a great deal. Sorry, I don't feel like doing another price comparison table, but you can see from the milk link that I paid $3.39 for enough milk to make three batches of cheese--each batch, I've found, comes out to around 14 oz right now.

Also, you're supposed to use freshly-squeezed lemon juice. One thing I don't keep in my kitchen is fresh lemons, much less do I squeeze them on a regular basis. I'd imagine it might work better and taste incredible, but for now I'm just using the regular lemon juice you get from those green bottles (or the yellow, lemon-shaped bottles if you buy the small ones.)


Homemade Ricotta

3 cups whole milk
1 cup heavy cream
1/2 teaspoon coarse sea salt
3 tablespoons lemon juice

(I'm going to write this from memory to keep from accidentally plagiarizing; it's so extremely simple to do, there's not a whole lot to write about.)

The main things you'll need are a saucepan, colander, cheesecloth, and a large bowl. I can't honestly tell you what size saucepan, as I classify mine by "little", "eh...", and "big enough for everything to fit." In this case, you probably want to use "big enough" for the four cups (64 oz) of liquid.

I just checked the original Smitten Kitchen post, and Deb says to use a 3-quart saucepan. That doesn't help me in the slightest, it's not like mine are labeled or give the sizes on the bottoms.

Pour the milk, cream, and salt into the pot and heat over medium-ish heat. You don't want to scald the milk, but you'll want to get it to 190°F nice and easy. I use a probe thermometer clipped/propped against the side to gauge the temperature; I've found the probe thermometer works for about everything in the kitchen, and the kids can't break it (now that I've said that...)

Stir it occasionally, just to keep the bottom from scorching and to keep it heating evenly. You'll be at 190 before you know it. At that point, remove it from the heat and add the lemon juice. Give it a couple of slow, easy stirs to mix the juice in, then leave it sitting completely undisturbed for five minutes.

This is a good time to prepare the draining stage--set the colander (or whatever kind of strainer/sieve you have) in the bowl and line it with several layers of cheesecloth. Once the five minutes are up, pour everything into the cloth/colander and let it just drain for at least an hour.

This time, it's an octopus plate.

That's it! You've just made cheese. You can let the cheese drain for however long you want--it will just get a little firmer, which is going to happen anyways when you refrigerate it. I like mine smoother, so I go ahead and pull it out and into a container after the first hour. I love it fresh from the straining, still a little warm, on toasted bread. The first time I made this, I had those loaves of Ciabatta I'd made a couple of nights before. That was amazing. Following Deb's suggestion, I also tried dribbling just a tiny bit of balsamic vinegar on the cheese/toast, and that's even more amazing. The kids love it as well!

I have great plans to make a pizza one night with my whole-wheat, refrigerator-fermented crust, fresh Roma and sundried tomato sauce, the cheese, balsamic vinegar, and fresh basil (in that order of layers.)

Oh what the hey--
I've still got things baking, so I might as well write.

Our snack for today (which was switched with supper--french toast at 3:30--due to the early evening doctor visit) was another Smitten Kitchen recipe I found while browsing her "low-budget" section. I've heard great things about Kale Chips, and while I do enjoy a bit of Kale in soup, I've been leery of trying to eat them alone. Once again, I was totally convinced to try something wild and crazy (at least for me.)

This is another extremely simple recipe--actually, I totally overdid it! I underestimated the intense flavor of the Kale itself, much less when combined with the oil and salt.

Had to snap this quickly, before the kids devoured it all.

Kale Chips
or as Razi calls them, "Kissmass Trees!"

Enough Kale, pulled from the stalk and separated into large pieces, to fill a large bowl.

1 TBSP olive oil

sea salt to taste (it will be much less 

than you expect)

preheat oven to 300°F

As I just said in the ingredients, pull the Kale apart gently and fill a large bowl (or a small one, depending on how many cookie sheets you have.) Drizzle the oil over the leaves and toss it all together. You really want to be sure the oil does coat every leaf, but don't add extra oil! Sprinkle the salt over it all, and toss lightly again to make sure it's on everything; depending on how many little hands you have helping, it really may be on everything.

At this point, I lined two cookie sheets (which happen to be all the cookie sheets I have) with parchment paper and spread the Kale in a single layer on each. I kind of smooshed them together to make it all fit, which is just as well because they'll shrink as they cook.

Let the Kale roast in the oven for about 25 minutes. I had to go a little longer, as I found a few of the pieces were still soft in the middle--you want these crunchy!

Enjoy, and be prepared for the mess!

On his face, arms, legs...