My First Yeast Bread (whole wheat pizza dough)

Normally a dinner party is not the prime opportunity to try a brand new recipe, especially if it involves a finicky, unpredictable living organism. I tend to prefer less stringent, more forgiving modes of cooking to baking, but I like a challenge. And there is always Trader Joe's fabulous pizza dough if mine had failed -- which it almost did! How's that to bring you to the edge of your seat?

My sister's happenstance job with Philly's Center for Student Missions is what brought her and, ultimately, me to this city. I love the work she does and I love her. So I was excited when she asked if I would cook dinner for the Spring staff -- the sweet CSM apprentices, Emily and Nicole (who have eaten with me before), and the sweet new Spring host, Adrienne. They were the unknowing test group for this science project of mine.

The first valuable lesson I learned about baking with yeast: make sure the yeast has not died of old age. Kelsey generously donated a packet of yeast she used to make bread last fall. I added it to warm water and waited for it to 'swell.' When it did not, I googled 'what does yeast look like when it blooms?' Mine was clearly not blooming or swelling, so I read the packet. The yeast had expired six months ago. Gives new meaning to the term 'quick and the dead.' Har har har.

Now I was faced with a dilemma. I had exactly 2.5 hours until dinner. (When I inquired about 'yeast for baking' at the corner store, the kind Hispanic clerk pointed me to the bacon. Maybe it's my accent?) So I needed at least 20 minutes to go to another market and and at least 1.5 hours for the dough to rise. Whole Foods for yeast or TJ's for dough? I think you know how this ends. I would not be defeated.

I hopped on my trusty steed and flew to Whole Foods, bypassing the beautiful produce section and gaining my prize. Back home, I threw the spry young yeast into warm water. Imagine my delight when this happened:

I stood in awe for a moment, then added olive oil, stirred all that into the whole wheat flour/sea salt and, with my remaining kinetic energy, I kneaded that baby into a beautiful little dough ball. Then I set it atop the warm oven and said a silent prayer that the yeast would uphold its end of the deal.

This is my favorite part about yeast bread. During the downtime while the dough rises, you can finish other dinner party preparations like washing the dishes, setting the table and trimming your bangs. And fervently check the dough ball way too often.

Miracle of miracles:

Whew. Now comes the part I'm more comfortable with. Stretch and spread that lovely elastic dough onto a pizza stone or baking sheet -- beware the air-bake variety is not conducive to crispy crust. Then add toppings. One of mine had the basic all-time-fave combo of roma tomatoes (marinated in balsamic vinegar and garlic), spinach and feta. For a delightfully understated sauce, I stirred some chopped garlic into this:

For the second pie, I caramelized an onion and quickly pan-fried thinly sliced potato. Layer those with mozzarella and a healthy sprinkle of sea salt and black pepper. Oh, baby.

This yeast experiment yielded a tasty, crispy, chewy crust. I want more of it. And I dare say that is enough motivation to tackle yeast again. This is but a gateway! Baking possibilities are endless! Suddenly I'm seeing bread recipes everywhere with more confidence that I could do it too. Kels, let's do it.

After expelling all my culinary creative (and physical) energy into those pies, this is what I offered our guests for dessert...and was met with approval, I might add.

Whole Wheat Pizza Dough
Adapted slightly from Erica Lea's recipe on Tasty Kitchen

1/2 c. warm water (straight from the tap is fine)
1 packet of instant yeast (2 1/4 t.)
Pinch of sugar (optional)
1 1/4 c. water at room temperature
2 T. olive oil, plus more for greasing the bowl
1 1/2 t. sea salt

Place 1/2 c. warm water in a small bowl. Add the yeast and stir, then sprinkle in a small amount of white sugar to activate it more quickly. Once the yeast begins to blossom, add the room temperature water and olive oil and stir.

Combine the flour and salt in a large bowl (or the bowl of a stand mixer, if you are blessed in that way). Slowly add the liquid ingredients and mix until a cohesive dough forms. Let rest for five minutes.

Turn the dough ball out onto a clean work space and knead until it becomes smooth and elastic, about three minutes.

Oil a medium-sized bowl and roll the dough ball around it until coated. Cover with a kitchen towel or plastic wrap and place in a warm spot. (I preheated the oven, then turned it off and stored the bowl on the stove above to help it rise faster.) Allow it to rise for 1 1/2 to 2 hours, or until it doubles in size.

Make pizza! This recipe makes enough for three medium/large thin-crust pies.




With love.

Strange and Wonderful (sweet potato oatmeal)

Over the past nine months, I have revealed much of my gastronomic soul here. You know that I love squash and quinoa and family dinners. But it's time to come clean about something of my foodie past. The roots of my culinary exploration, if you will. The original combination.

I'm talking about SpaghettiOs and cottage cheese.

This one dates back to Lindsey's highchair days. The Eriksen sisters love(d) it. If there were green beans on the plate, those usually were mixed in (to make them more palatable, perhaps). Later we expanded the cottage cheese pairing menu to include baked beans and potato chips and everything else. In a loving family unit, cottage cheese is the glue that binds.

I still love cottage cheese and, although I can't recall the last time I ate SpaghettiOs, I think I could go for a can right now. But I'm getting side-tracked, as food memories tend to do. It's been a long time since those days when Linds regularly fell asleep at the dinner table, and today my (more) mature(?) foodie palate comes up with and appreciates (more) mature(?) weirdo combinations. Here is one of my favorites lately: sweet potato oatmeal.

Other combinations worth mentioning: coffee from a mug covered in Shakespearean love lines, Oswald Chambers and Bon Iver, peanut butter and banana.

As with the SpaghettiOs/cottage cheese combo, don't knock it 'til you try it. Peel a small sweet potato, thinly slice and boil covered for 10 minutes or until very tender. Drain excess water (lazy method: remove lid and cook until the water evaporates) and mash potatoes with a fork. Mix in a bit of milk and/or butter, a spoonful of brown sugar (or honey or maple syrup) and plenty of cinnamon. Cook old fashioned oats using your preferred method, then combine with the sweetened potatoes.

This is a delicious breakfast and a great cheat if you gave up sweets for Lent.

On that segue, I've given up meat for the next 40 days. This does not include fish, but it does include my cuticles, which I have bitten in excess for 15 years. I don't eat meat as often as I chew on my fingers (which is why meat rarely shows up on this blog) but I do enjoy the buffalo chicken and prosciutto/pesto/mozzarella sandwiches at Rybread on occasion.

One of these sacrifices will no doubt be easier to uphold than the other, but thankfully I have a live-in accountability partner who's been known to covertly video tape absentminded cheek chewing. When I catch myself, I will say a prayer. And if I must, I will take to wearing my night guard 24 hours a day. That's what I call penitence. Regardless, I am sure to remain mindful this season. At least SpaghettiOs and cottage cheese are still fair game. Godspeed with your Lenten ambitions too.



With love.

conscious bean soup

This is a public service announcement.

I tend to be fairly conscious of my effect on the planet. I recycle and buy second-hand clothes and ride a bike and turn off lights. I realize the part I play is very small in the overwhelming scheme of things, but I do what I can and try not to have a panic attack about all the landfills in the world. (And there is certainly much more I could do. I will never give up hot showers, for one thing.)

I also like to think I care about people pretty well. My heart is burdened for those freezing to death in Russia right now and those in Africa shlepping river water over miles to hydrate a family (hello, River to Well). And I can't deny the certain amount of guilt I feel reading about people dying in Chinese factories while polishing iPad screens.

In reality, those people and issues seem so far out of my reach that I'm not sure how to change my daily routine to feel that I am helping. But there is always hope, and here is a baby step: a movement dubbed 'conscious capitalism' that encourages companies and consumers to consider everything and everyone involved in the entire supply chain of their products and purchases. Now, I exited the business track after taking macroeconomics freshman year so I don't pretend to know all about supply chains, but I do like the thought of purchasing something and not feeling guilty about harming people in the process.

The inspiration for this soap-box post and the credit for this feel-good soup goes fully to my dear friend Jessica, who sent me this delicious mix as a Christmas gift. She lives in St. Louis, but take heart -- neither this soup nor the movement are confined to one city.

The Bean Project employs women who are struggling to make ends meet. They put together food items so those of us with the means can buy great food so they can buy great food. It's a wonderful cycle. And really, why on Earth not?

The only catch (there's always a catch) is this: I had to ignore the nagging guilt about burning the energy to let the soup simmer for four hours. That darn gas bill. I knew it was worth it, so I simply distracted myself with a few episodes of Downton Abbey. It snowed that day, which is a fine excuse in my book, but, truth be told, Kelsey and I have developed a pretty serious habit of this.

Thanks for the socks, Mom and Dad!

As the recipe on the package recommends, I added a can of diced tomatoes and some vegetables during the last hour. And the house smelled heavenly.

Thanks for the apron, Grandma!

During the intermission between Downton and the KU game (they start at 9 p.m. here! we have to watch online! whine whine whine!), we got out of bed just long enough to fill our bowls. Like I said, this is serious.

In conclusion: recycle, read the paper, eat delicious conscious soup, watch television online, hibernate in the winter, count your blessings. Go Jayhawks.

With love.

Birthday Week (and dumplings)

I guess, technically, it's over. I held on as long as I could, but the holiday season (culminating with my birthday) came and went, and here I am 26 years old and it's suddenly just winter. It snowed here yesterday, in case I needed the reminder.

Instead of dwelling on the present, however, I choose to celebrate the past couple weeks and relive them again here. Because the past couple weeks represent how absolutely vibrant my life is right now. That's how it feels: colorful and exciting. I've sung the praises of my incredible family already, so let's shift our focus to this guy. The one with the hip tie and the handsome jawline.

Much of the Kansas portion of my birthday week was spent with him, including an afternoon with his adorable, loving, hilarious family. And I learned how to make dumplings.

Please take a second to notice the difference between those photos if you didn't already.

We talked about Taiwan and Philly. I wowed everyone with my chopstick skills (perfected during countless dinners at Zen Zero). Ken took photos (thank you).

Max even kept my feet warm. True hospitality.

After I ate about a hundred of these...

We shared some delicious red velvet birthday cake, and I bonded with this precious little spitfire over shared naptime and Barbie. There are no words to describe how delightful she is. Just this:

Thanks for letting me relive that. Days like these are why I know God loves me.



With love.

Traditions (and salted dark chocolate cookies)

One thing this move has helped me do is loosen my angsty grip on long-standing traditions. I usually blame birth-order tendencies for my nostalgia (although when I googled it just now I couldn't find anything to back up that theory). As the oldest child, I tend to be the most stubborn about letting go of family traditions, and my younger sisters tend to ridicule me for it. 

I mean, is there anything so wrong with occasionally enjoying hours of home videos? I think not.

I will say I'm very glad I got to have a birthday dinner with my fam. And even though I know my mom would have made an angel food cake if I had requested it, I was perfectly content exchanging that tradition for red wine and Tellers chocolate torte.

And the nostalgic part of me was completely smitten with the box of Life cereal that arrived yesterday via UPS. Some traditions are definitely worth holding on to, and I'm so glad my bff agrees.

Which brings me to a new tradition: these salted dark chocolate cookies.

My birthday last year was marked by a huge Kansas blizzard that closed KU's campus for two days. Since I worked on campus, I was blessed by the snow days too. My roommates and I had nothing to do but go sledding and bake cookies and drink coffee all day. 

These cookies are perfect for snow days because they require things you probably have already. Pretty bowls, semi-sweet chocolate, sea salt. 

And they're pretty perfect for no-snow days too (praise the Lamb for no-snow days).

After kicking off my birthday week with a few blissful days in Lawrence, I returned to our cozy Philly kitchen to melt some butter and chocolate chips.

My birthday this year was marked by a four-course Israeli lunch and margaritas at dinner. So, for being far from home, I fared pretty well (pun intended). By moving out here and keeping one foot in Kansas, I strategically doubled the amount of love that I received this week.

These cookies are an homage to my dear old friends (two of whom are back in their European homes) and a gift of gratitude to my new ones.

Mine look nothing like when the Kitchenist made them. (Why does that always happen when I bake? Is it because I used baking soda instead of powder? I think I'll stick to squash.) Anyway, they were delicious. And it's tradition.

Salted Dark Chocolate Cookies
From The Kitchenist
Makes 12 (unless you double it, which is always a good idea)

4 oz. semisweet chocolate
2 T. unsalted butter
1/2 c. flour
1/2 t. baking powder
1/4 t. fine salt
1 egg
1/3 c. lightly packed brown sugar
1/2 t. vanilla extract
1/3 c. toffee bits (I didn't have these this time, but definitely recommend them)
A few pinches of sea salt

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Melt chocolate and butter together, either on the stove or in the microwave.

In another bowl, mix together the flour, baking powder and salt. Set aside.

In yet another bowl, beat the egg, sugar and vanilla until frothy. Add the melted chocolate mixture and beat until combined. Stir in the flour mixture to create a thick batter and add the toffee bits if you have them.

Drop heaping tablespoons of batter onto a parchment-lined baking sheet and sprinkle sea salt over the top of each cookie. Bake for 12-15 minutes, then cool on a wire rack. If you live with Europeans, enjoy these at tea time.



With love.