The Lahey Project: Pizzas Potato and Zucchini.

Friday evening was a good occasion to knock out two more Lahey pizzas: Pizza Patate and Pizza Zucchine. I made two Lahey pizzas in one pan, a half and half pizza, since I have to carefully schedule the Lahey recipes I know won't be immediate hit with my Husband around the times when I have friends or family visiting. It works out splendidly, since I can be generous with the servings and not too gluttonous in my own consumption. Fortunately for me, Lahey pizzas are well designed to be both a bit unorthodox and extremely delicious - both happy mediums for casual dinner parties. And, I know that had he felt adventurous enough to try it, both sides of the pizza would have been a hit with my Husband, too.

(It is also a benefit that since the pizzas are all vegetable, lazy salad makers such as myself do not even feel guilty for only serving pizza and nothing else - well, except for the Mostly Foodstuffs Rhubarb Liqueur and Rhubarb Custard Tart! I have to get my rhubarb servings in when I have company as well...)

This week's CSA box had a pound of new Yukon Gold potatoes and zucchini, last week's box had a yellow squash and a sweet onion, so proudly all the ingredients (save the flour) are native to Wisconsin!

The potato side begins with a salt water soak. I have never soaked potatoes in salt water before, but it actually draws out some of the moisture, making the potatoes both crisp and creamy when they bake. Since the pizza bakes at a blistering 500 degrees, wafer thin slices of potato (tossed with olive oil, salt and pepper) turn golden and parched on top and stay creamy underneath - a combination that is satisfyingly hearty. A carnivorous eater would gladly add bacon, pancetta or prosciutto and never again order out for pizza. I'll save that trick for another day.

I soaked my mandolined potatoes for about 90 minutes, and meanwhile shredded 20 ounces of zucchini/squash, tossed it with salt and let it drain over a colander. I have a number of clean muslin bags in my kitchen drawer that I made from unbleached cotton muslin. I find that I use them for everything: from straining grapes for jelly to this tried and true technique of pressing the excess moisture out of the zucchini. I actually am able to get incredibly dry zucchini by loading it into the bag, then twisting and pressing it until it is virtually dehydrated. Coincidentally, I think the first time I employed this technique was to make the Mostly Foodstuffs Chocolate Zucchini Cake, which is also a winner!

I recently read this post by Otehlia at World of Flavors, where she explains how most recipes that contain zucchini make a large amount, since to make a dent in a zucchini supply, you have to be able to use a lot in one recipe. It is true (and her bread recipe at the link above does look like it will have to be tried sometime soon), and I found myself noticing that many of the zucchini recipes I have do contain rather large amounts of this prolific vegetable. A pound and a quarter on half of the pizza may seem like a lot, but it was not too much, and it was probably the best slice of pizza I've had in a long time. If it is one thing I can't recommend highly enough, it is the proportions in this book. They are spot on - and I am not someone who goes about measuring everything when I'm in the kitchen. I do swear firmly upon weight measurements in My Bread. They have not failed me yet!

The zucchini is supposed to be tossed with Gruyere cheese, but I had some Wisconsin Parmesan on hand from Country Connection, and I used an equal amount of it: 75 grams for the half amount. The pure genius moment of this half of the pizza is that it is sprinkled with bread crumbs over the top before baking. At the high oven temperature, this created gorgeous blackened crunchy bits. This little addition alone endears Pizza Zucchine to me forever, but indeed the flavors of the entire concoction are really inspired. They are simple, but perfectly balanced.

I added just a bit of grated nutmeg... I couldn't resist!

The only thing I could be more excited about than Lahey Pizza lately is rhubarb. I recently crowned Deena my Rhubarby Guru, and it is the truth. She posted a recipe back in May for a liqueur that I finally made, bottled and am trying patiently to let it mellow, but it is so delicious that I keep sampling it. She says it needs time to mellow, but it is already so good, that I can't imagine it getting much better. It is smooth, and tart, and sweet. It is Rhubarb Liqueur, and you need to make some now, if you can still get some fresh rhubarb.

My own rhubarb masterpiece, the family recipe that I almost can not make for fears of devouring all of it's buttery greatness, took a back seat to another of Deena's recipes that I had wanted to try: Rhubarb Custard Tart. I had to use frozen rhubarb here, and I decided to bake it frozen instead of letting it drain - just a little bit of a mistake. It looks fine and tasted delicious, but got just a tad watery as it sat. Overnight in the refrigerator took care of most of the problem, but I would imagine that it would be stellar with fresh, unfrozen rhubarb. The tart crust was particularly nice, and since I had only an 8 inch tart pan, I made a dozen little tarts out of the remains. We ate some, and I gave some away, but still have some left and let me tell you it is hard not to keep swiping spoonfuls on my way past. Rhubarb is like that: A love it or hate it thing, but once it gets in your blood you are hard pressed to not crave it.

So, I'm moving right along, Mr. Lahey! Looking forward to my next My Bread adventure, whatever it may be... the greatness of these pizzas makes me think it just may be the Pizza Cavolifiore: Cauliflower Pizza.

Oh... Those Obsessions!

It's true, I get obsessed. And easily at that. Last night, I went to a cooking class at the Bay View Community Center taught by Annie Wegner-LeFort on Summer Vegetarian Cooking. I went because I like taking classes, because I like cooking seasonal vegetarian, and because I really wanted to meet Annie. I didn't realize that I kind of already knew and admired her from afar. A huge light bulb lit over my head when I found out that she is the pastry chef at Sheridan's, where I had the most memorable chai shortbread cookie several months ago...

I had read the press release when they opened the restaurant and boutique hotel, and dismissed it to my mental warehouse. Sometimes I feel as if I move in obscure circles around people - ingesting information that is learned and then stored, until I realize I've gleaned so many little bits that they add up to a mostly complete picture, sans actual meeting. That's good, and yet a bit sad that I only know people from a voyeuristic Internet reality...

Annie's class was really great. Some people, are just natural teachers, and I like watching them, as I feel that I am not. I like to think I'm a natural consultant, which is a far less noble profession than teaching. If I've read it, likely it is rolodexed in my mind, and ready to pop out of my mouth at opportune (and inopportune) moments... but good teachers need the tact and gentleness to repeat themselves, the ability to be gracious and generous with themselves to others, and the good ones accomplish this with such ease it fills me with envy.

While I could tell I felt kindred-ly at home with the recipes she provided us in print, this one that really impressed me most was one I actually already had in my possession, and yet never have tried: Cilantro-Raisin Chutney from Sally Fallon's Nourishing Traditions. Before the class started, I read over our handout and politely dismissed this little gem of a recipe, and so wrongfully so. When I had my first taste, obsession quickly set in. Although it was a vegetarian cooking class, she mentioned that it was great on pork, serendipitous since that is what I had already planned for supper tonight. Needless to say, I got some cilantro today (I've left mine to seed, so I can replant), and made up a batch. I will be reveling it it until the weekend, methinks.

I was excited to share my new obsession with my Husband, who is also a cilantro fan. He was briefly excited, until he felt the sting of "licorice-ness" on his tongue. He even went as far as to tell me he thought it was really good, until he discovered that licorice aftertaste. The anise seed is what he tasted, and I love this so much, that I'll leave it out on the next go around to see if it appeals to him more; he is an avid hater of licorice.

To glean the whey needed (which could easily be omitted), I strained some of my yogurt, which came in handy for the taste-testing. I ended up eating my afternoon snack of yogurt mixed with this versatile condiment and a few grains of raw sugar, perfection in my book. I could eat this chutney as a soup, I'm pretty sure - but I now know that it will end up on sandwiches, bread (I'm thinking flat bread of some sort here), lentil burgers (another great recipe Annie provided) as well as just about anything else I can think of. It's really that good.

I found that I didn't need to add any additional water, but you can add it to your preference.

Cilantro-Raisin Chutney (inspired by Annie Wegner-LeFort, by way of Sally Fallon)

• 1 1/2 c. raisins, soaked in warm water for 1 hour
• 2 cloves garlic, peeled and chopped
• 1 small bunch of cilantro, stems removed
• 10 black peppercorns
• 1/4 t. red pepper flakes
• 1 t. powdered coriander
• 1 t. cumin powder
• 1 1/2 t. freshly grated ginger
• 1 t. sea salt
• 2 T. whey
• 1/2 c. water

Pulse garlic and cilantro in a food pro until coarsely chopped. Drain raisins, and add to processor along with remaining ingredients, except water. (You can also toast the spices gently in a cast iron skillet, I did this even though I had to use some powdered spices.) Add water judiciously until your desired consistency is reached.

Pack into a clean glass jar, and let sit at room temperature for 2 days before transferring to cold storage.

(Annie also mentioned that this recipe freezes well, not that I'm going to need to find out. ) I have plans for this stuff for the rest of the week, and just thinking about it makes me excited all over again.

Almost as excited as this modified slaw that I've been eating since yesterday:

Cabbage, green pepper, Hungarian wax peppers, jalapeno peppers and a bit of celery seed tossed with salt and a little sugar and left to drain in a colander at room temp for a few hours until some of the moisture has drained out. Tonight, I mixed what wasn't already eaten with rice wine vinegar and olive oil. Still crunchy, still addictive - and really ready for just about anything. I had some on a ham and cheese sandwich for lunch today and why I'd ever need another condiment, I don't know. My Husband did like this one on the side of his pork chop, and what he didn't eat, I happily lapped up off his plate for him. (I feel like planning ahead and soaking some wheat berries to toss with the rest, but I have too much other stuff to eat up! Ahhh, summer.)

I feel somewhat geeky for getting so excited about the condiment side of things. I mean, these are no projects requiring time and attention for days, these are amazements that can be concocted with abandon in mere moments! Their flavors are varied enough to be enjoyed with a host of different cuisine options for days before their welcome wears on, and they really are Obsessions.

I couldn't be happier that I attended this class, and that this recipe is mine to be made for years on into the future. Whenever I taste it, I will happily be transported back to that little Bay View Community Center classroom and Annie's description of it, and that makes it even better. Be sure to go and pay Annie a visit at her blog, The LeFort Urban Homestead, you will be then be full of inspiration and new obsessions of your own. She can have that effect on people.

Raw Vegan Monday: Macadamia Caprese

I had to make another raw vegan recipe from The Conscious Cook this week: Macadamia Caprese. While the author of The Conscious Cook, Tal Ronnen, is not strictly raw, he invited a guest raw vegan, chef Chad Sarno, to contribute this recipe. It is visually stunning; at a glance you would never know that it was vegan, and it really is easy to prepare..

The "cheese" is made by culturing macadamia nuts with probiotic culture, much the same way as the cashew cheese I made earlier this summer. I can't say that the flavor was all that different using the macadamia nuts than it was with cashews (and cashews are far less expensive), but the cheese was much more firm due to the way I cultured it.

I weighted it down with my sophisticate pie weights (white beans in a canning jar) and left it in my oven overnight with the light on. That trick keeps your oven mildly warm without using too much electricity, and when my a/c (even with the house set at like 75 f...) has barely stopped running for the past week, I needed to be sure it was warmish and draft free. You may also recall I use this trick for culturing buttermilk and sour cream, and it always yields great results.

The cheese firmed up nicely, and had the same base flavor as the cashew cheese that was cultured the same way, but lacked a little of cashew's sweetness. Vegan cheese is strange, because you kind of want to believe that it will taste like cheve or whatever varietal it appears it should approximate, and it just does not. It is it's own thing. I believe that I can appreciate it for what it is, while also noting that it is nothing like actual dairy cheese. This one was rolled in crushed black pepper, tarragon and chives from my garden, and I did think that it was beautiful to look at, probably why my Husband even tried a slice with a spicy tomato, and thought it was all right, I noted however that he did not ask for seconds...

It's funny, too, that I'm posting this cheese directly after a grilled cheese post!

I would have to say that the star of this appetizer had to be the tomato. They are semi-dried, and spicy with Cajun seasoning. Since raw vegan cooking prohibits the use of boiling water, very hot water is used to cover the tomatoes (bottoms pierced in an "x") for 10 minutes, stems in tact. Then, remove them to an ice water bath for 5 minutes or so, and carefully peel them. I didn't think that it was going to work, but it did! Sprinkled with Cajun spice (I used Penzey's Hot Cajun) and a bit of sea salt, they rest on a screen at room temp for several hours - I left them for about 8. They form a little bit of a dried crust on the outside, and retain all of their lovely tomato-ness inside.

I really do love The Conscious Cook cookbook. It's well designed and executed, and offers many interesting things for the adventurous vegan cook. Since I was unable to find the macadamia cheese anywhere else online, and Chad Sarno was gracious in publishing his recipe through another chef's book, I will suggest that you find a copy! I first saw and became acquainted with the book at my library, and it is now in my ever-bottomless Amazon cart for future purchasing. Meanwhile, if you'd like to try another of his similarly styled vegan cheeses, you can have a look here at the rawchef website.

It is so true that the stipulations of being raw and vegan do so much to spark kitchen creativity. It's not just raw carrot sticks and a handful of nuts to these pioneering chefs. While personally I enjoy a wide range of foods, I continue to gain a deeper appreciation for those with strict diets - for either social or food allergy reasons.

I am frequently reminded of a fortune cookie I once opened: "One hundred people, One hundred minds". It's easy to read that and dismiss it, but it is so true. Every one of us feels and thinks passionately about something, and it may or may not be the same opinion as our closest friend, a parent, or even a spouse. I'm not saying that there aren't things that are inherently right or wrong, but that surface opinion varies from person to person - and doesn't that make for the spice of life!

I like to think "food people" tend to be kindred spirits, exploratory folk who will try anything at least once, but that is not always the case. 100 minds... If you have never thought about eating or preparing something vegan, I'd urge you to give it a go. You may just find that you can't stop! See you next week on Vegan Monday!

Grilled Cheese: The CakeWalk.

The CakeWalk. I have never submitted a recipe to another website before (other than photographically speaking to Tastespotting), and was surprised that my image and recipe appeared lighting-quick on the beautifully appointed Grilled Cheese Academy website, without a lengthy moderation process. You may recall that I went to the website launch event in Madison a while back, and while I was immediately impressed with both the Wisconsin Milk Marketing Board and Tori Miller's execution of such humble ingredients as cheese and bread, I never thought I'd be submitting a recipe of my own. Of course, in true rcakewalk fashion, the recipe is really a Frankenstein's Monster of sorts: Lahey bacon bread, vegan cashew-lemon pesto, and a cheese that I first fell in love with in the early '90's.

When I was still in high school, my family went on a week long vacation to the Ely, Minnesota area. We stayed in a lakeside cabin, my brother and I canoed in the Boundary Waters, and our van broke. We had an enormous bench-seated rental, that I remember we had a lot of fun picking on. I'm sure there is a picture somewhere. But even more memorably than that, we ate at a restaurant called The Chocolate Moose. (It appears that it is still there, but there is no website listed when Googled.) I was vegetarian in those days - much to the chagrin of my Parents, I'd imagine, who were pretty lenient and understanding about my dietary choices.

What made The Chocolate Moose stand out to me was that they had a kitchen garden out in the back, and they were able to use a lot of it in what they served. We ate there multiple times, and I know that I had their grilled cheese every time we did. Their sandwich was something like this: bread, provolone, pesto, tomato, pesto, provolone, bread. I studied it completely. Not only was provolone a rather new cheese to me, I don't think that I'd ever had pesto before.

Theirs was pine nut pesto, and I remember recreating the sandwich soon after we got back to Wisconsin (thankfully, in our own van). I'm sure I bought a little refrigerated tub of pesto back then, but now due to the bounty of a summer kitchen garden of my own, there is no need for that. I used some leftover Cashew Lemon Pesto from a recipe by Dreena Burton in her book Eat, Drink & Be Vegan. When chilled, the cashew pesto was almost like a paste that I spread into a molded shape on the right hand piece of bread (photo below) and then transferred to the grated cheese. When heated, it went right back to it's original state much the same as a refrigerated traditional pesto would.

I love grilled cheese because it is one of those things in the Endlessly Adaptable Club that pretty much always hits the spot. Whatever is lurking in the fridge can find new life nestled in-between good bread and good cheese, and in relatively short order. I think the key to a great sandwich is to line the bread on both sides with some of the cheese, since it provides a moisture barrier, and also to sprinkle a bit of salt on the top of the sandwich after it is grilled. I learned this from my Dad, who is a grilled cheese expert. He would be the first to tell you that he's not much of a cook, but eggs, grilled cheese and outdoor grilling he's got down to a science. That little extra salinity on the top of the sandwich really just makes it.

So, there you have it. The CakeWalk is a sandwich of many parts, but it is one I am proud of. It is satisfying on it's own, but anytime that I'm able to promote Food in Jar's Spicy Dilly Beans, I will! I love these things, and they are even better since now I'm eating my remaining jar with gusto since I know I will have access to fresh green beans very soon to make more. I had a nice big handful on the side this evening, and like to think that everything in this grilled cheese supper was from Wisconsin, save the flour in the bread and the tropical cashew nut in the pesto.

You can check out my recipe in the gallery (search for The CakeWalk) and many others, and even submit one of your own while you're there. It's fun to know that whatever your level of cooking and/or kitchen experimenting, there is a sandwich at the Grilled Cheese Academy just waiting for you to enjoy. I know I have to remember to check out their site more often.

The Lahey Project:: Bacon (Pancetta) Bread.

I'm beginning to realize that these posts about the breads made from Jim Lahey's book could get pretty boring and old. After all, every one I've tried so far has been great - but not just great, tremendous, and even then I'm starting to run out of complementary adjectives. But each and every bread that I've tried has been so miraculous that I still really can't believe I'm pulling this stuff out of my oven.

This one was obviously no different. The crust was even better than normal, probably because there was a sly addition of bacon grease. Yes, you heard me, bacon fat. I feel kind of funny always walking the line between vegan and animalistic ways of cooking, but those of you who know me can attest that I do procure the best meats that I can. This bacon came from the same hog that the rest of my pork stores did, the same animal also feeding my Parents. While staunch vegan readers may audibly gasp at this, I personally do not have a problem with it. I'd probably prefer to go full vegetarian and/or vegan, but my carnivorous Husband would then most likely resolve to eating every meal somewhere else, and that does not a happy home make!

And besides, who am I kidding. Bacon? R1 suspects that even vegetarians crave bacon. Lahey's original called for pancetta, but used bacon as a substitute and if you think that adding bacon to bread could make a complete meal, you would be correct.

The bacon is first fried, then added to the dry ingredients. Here, with a healthy amount of crushed red peppers...

It's meaty and chewy, and could easily gentrify any plain old lunch into a eyebrow raising and sophisticated Brunch. I also made a half recipe, since after all, I for sure don't need the temptations of a 1 1/2 pound loaf of bacon bread siren calling me morning, noon and night.

A while back, Lo asked me if I ever would recommend Lahey's "bread in a pot" method using parchment to raise the dough in and I said not really. On the second olive bread that I made, some of the olives made their way to the outermost of the loaf and had direct contact with the cast iron pot for the duration of the cooking time. It wasn't terrible, either to the palate or to the dishwasher (a.k.a. Me...), but I thought burnt bacon may be a different story. So I decided to line my enamel colander with parchment, let the bacon bread dough rise in it, and then transfer the whole works to the pot to cook. No mess, much easier to transfer. So, Lo - I take it back. It works excellently, especially if you have need for less cleanup or are working with a sticky ingredient (or just lack confidence in the skill of handling a floppy-ish risen bread dough in close proximity to a blazing hot cast iron pot).

My bread was done before lunchtime, and I made another of my favorite recipes to enjoy it with, herby baked eggs. I made my Husband a grilled cheese, which I may have to do for myself tomorrow with some of the leftovers. A cashew pesto, provolone, tomato grilled cheese on bacon bread? I may finally have a submission for The Grilled Cheese Academy after all! You can be sure that I'll let you know how it turns out.

Meanwhile, I'm glad I opted to bake today, even in the extreme heat and humidity. We have air conditioning, but somehow a 475 degree oven manages to slice through it pretty well. The heat also wrecks havoc on my appetite: killing it off almost completely. But that is why I thank you, Jim Lahey, because there aren't many appetites that can't be piqued by the smell of bacon baking into bread. Just one more reason why he really is pure genius.