26 January 2012

Perfect Hot Chocolate

Two posts in one day, I know.  But I really felt like I wanted to quickly share this little recipe I just whipped up for a single cup of hot chocolate.

Tiffany has been hard at work on her biology lab homework for the past three hours.  This comes on top of the entire day she spent yesterday in her pajamas, laptop planted on the ottoman and her books spread over every upholstered surface in our living room.  She's a student and man I remember those days.  Except that Tiffany is a much better undergraduate student than I was.  So as a little kingdom, phylum, class, order, uh... yeah, we'll take a break there for a little pick-me-up in a cup.

Hot Chocolate--Straight Up, One Cup.

1 TBS. organic semi-sweet chocolate chips
3/4 cup low-fat grass fed milk
1 TBS. grass fed half & half
1 1/2 TBS. organic cane sugar
1 TBS. dutch cocoa powder
1/2 tsp. vanilla
6 or 7 grains of coarse sea salt, or literally the tiniest pinch you could manage of regular salt

In a small sauce pot, over medium-low heat, lightly melt the chocolate chips.  It will take probably less than 30 seconds.

Add all of the rest of the ingredients and whisk, turning the heat up to medium-high, until the hot chocolate is completely combined and just barely begins to bubble.  It will take one or two minutes.  Don't let it boil.

Pour into your cup and warm someone up, or yourself.  Or double, triple, etc. the recipe to make enough for a crowd.

Enjoy!  And always remember to eat well and buy local.  Goodnight, folks.


A Few Little Foodie Things...

I don't know what's up lately with rainy days and me blogging.  Perhaps it's easier to rationalize staying in my pajamas until 10am (I know, we're talking rebellion there), when it is cold and I can hear the water rushing down the gutter just outside my second story window.  Perhaps I'm more inspired on dreary days.  Whatever the reason, I thought today with the chilly drizzle and some leisurely time at home would be a good opportunity to post a few little foodie-esque things I've been doing lately.

Tiffany and I seem to have hit a peak in the frequency with which we visit Casa Nueva in Athens.  I think this sort of happened by accident, but it's been glorious each and every time.  There are exactly two restaurants in Athens, Ohio (or all of Southeast Ohio really) where I can sit down and order anything off the menu without hesitancy, questions or guilt.  Casa is one of those restaurants.  I've written about it before, but in case you've missed those posts, Casa labels itself as "the locavore's solution."  I know that everything I eat at Casa was either produced locally, and if not, then produced sustainably and ethically, without additives or other mysterious food components that I try so hard not to consume anymore.  It's wonderful.  Oh... and there's booze, too.  Lot's of it.

Our first trip was for Open Doors dance night a couple of Saturdays ago.  After downing a bowl of their seasonal Blueberry-Chipotle salsa, intermittently with sips of a house margarita, I had a fantastic plate of seasonal enchilada.  Corn tortilla, wrapped around locally raised black beans from Shagbark Seed & Mill company (the same company that supplies the tortilla chips made from Morgan County corn), local seasonal greens and squash, Laurel Valley Creamery's Cora cheese, and peanut-soy marinated tofu.  It was heavenly in all possible aspects, especially my dining partner. 



Last Saturday dawned to illuminate our first real winter storm of the season.  In Northeast Ohio where I was born and raised, I would've woken to inches upon inches of snow.  In Southeast Ohio, it takes an extra special kind of cold to make the precipitation turn to dusty flakes.  More likely, those inches and inches of snow fall as half an inch of rain, and when the temperature drops below freezing, that amount of rain turns into a quarter inch thick sheet of ice that entraps absolutely everything.  After forty minutes of unearthing my car like a Titan from the dirt and depths below, it was driving ready.  The trip to Athens that afternoon was precarious, probably dangerous, but contently peaceful.  I was alone on the slush coated roads, saline and gray.  It took me twice as long, but facilitated my quiet thoughts as I slowly navigated the slippery slopes.  The solitary trip reminded me of the days before cars, before salt trucks and black top roads, when a storm like this would've kept the cold-hardened settlers in their homes for days and days. 

You know what nostalgia like that does to me.  When I arrived in Athens I wanted nothing more than the reminiscent comfort of a cast-iron skillet, sizzling simple comfort food, and a hot cup of coffee.  I found that at the Village Bakery, my other locavorian haunt.  They delivered the perfect meal, sticking to my ribs, tenderly warming my heart, the simplest of contentment.  A plate with two bacon grease-browned over easy eggs, quick fried salty, smoky ham slices, and thick country wheat bread toasted, married with a small vessel of yellow Amish butter, nothing more than cream and salt.  It was the perfect lunch for the quiet, old, winter day.




Then this past Tuesday rolled around.  Last week I interviewed for a position at Ohio University in Athens.  It was the opportunity I've been seeking for so long.  I got a call on Tuesday morning with an offer, and with great joy and overwhelming relief I accepted it.  In just over three weeks, I'll be starting my new job in the School of Nursing at Ohio University and I couldn't be more excited or grateful.  Tiffany knew as soon as she heard the news that we'd be trekking to Athens again that evening, to celebrate of course!  Back at Casa Nueva we arrived shortly before the restaurant itself opened, so we got to spend some time in their den-like bar, dark, warmly wood paneled, with bright-eyed windows on either side.  I had a fantastic micro brew called Bach from Rivertown Brewing Company in Cincinnati.  I love Ohio beer.  In fact, I love all things Ohio. 



Finally, in the world of foodie sorts of things, I recently took on a new project.  I can't say much about it, but what I can say is that I'm sending letters and care packages to an American soldier stationed overseas, until they return home.  It's been a wonderfully fulfilling project so far, and essentially the perfect activity for me.  I am, admittedly, pretty damn good at compiling care packages and it's something I really enjoy.  I have a list of items that soldiers often ask for, and one of those items was trail mix.  After perusing the shelves of ready made trail mix at Jo-Ad Specialty Market in McConnelsville, I decided instead to compile my own.  Buying each ingredient in bulk, I came home and tossed them all together in an enormous Tupperware bowl, and when it was all mixed, I have enough for at least three more care packages.  I wanted to send the soldier things that would be good for their body, like raw almonds, raw pumpkin seeds, and dried cranberries.  But I also wanted it to be a treat, maybe a sweet reminder of home in a small way, so I also included unsulphered dried pineapple, yogurt covered mini-pretzels, and two kinds of raisins.  I packed up about two pounds and added it to steadily filling box on my kitchen table.

 

12 January 2012

Syrup & Buckwheat Gingerbread

Chilly rain drops blanketed the valley yesterday.  From the early morning fog to evening's fall and into the night it rained hard and soft, gray clouds hovering seemingly motionless above the rooftops.  From my office window I can see the hills and river valley off to the west, and can watch the weather roll in and disappear above the window pane, passing over the building and on to Marietta, and beyond.  Out that window yesterday, the weather did not move.  It rained drearily all day, and for me, with chilly winter drizzle comes the desire for nostalgic bakery.

Lately I've had an overwhelming need to get back to basics.  I tell Tiffany over and over again how much I want to reconnect with the past, with wood stoves, with doing things by hand (why I haven't bought a bread maker), with simplicity in ingredients, and perhaps in doing so I will quietly work my way into the life I imagine will bring me the greatest satisfaction:  simple and free.  With that in mind, yesterday's weather seemed like the perfect rationale to make something warming and antique in my seasoned cast iron skillet.

Last fall I created my own gingerbread recipe, replacing refined sugar with natural sweeteners, white flour with whole-wheat, and making it whole-heartedly mine. In cold, rainy January, the smell of baking gingerbread is like radiant perfume, awaking the senses from their mid-winter slumber. I decided to revamp the recipe once again, and after tasting the resulting flavor and crumb, have decided that for now, it is Queen Honeybea perfection.

Now, it's not sweet by sugar-coated standards. When you eat the way I do, you learn that sweetness doesn't have to be overly present to be satisfying. Peanut butter will do it for me these days, and dried cranberries: that's all the "sweet," I need sometimes. If you want a sweeter gingerbread, up the maple syrup and honey. If you're so inclined, you could even add a 1/4 or 1/2 cup of organic sugar. We like it just the way it is, and it is married well with hot coffee or cold milk. Remember, everyone benefits when you buy local and eat well.





Queen Honeybea's
Syrup & Buckwheat Gingerbread

2 cups organic whole-wheat flour
1/4 cup organic buckwheat flour
1 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. natural sea salt
2 tsps. ground ginger
1 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp. ground cloves
1/4 tsp. ground nutmeg
1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1/3 cup pure, local maple syrup
1/3 cup local raw honey
1/2 cup dark molasses
1 tsp. pure vanilla extract
1 large, overripe banana, mashed
1 cup grass-grazed, organic milk
1 local, free-range egg
2 tbs. candied ginger, chopped
1/4 cup organic thompson's raisins
2 tbs. organic butter

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Place a 9 inch round cast iron skillet on the middle shelf of the oven to heat thoroughly.

2. In a large bowl, whisk together the whole-wheat flour, buckwheat flour, soda, salt, ginger, cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg. Set aside.

3. In a medium size bowl, whisk together the oil, maple syrup, honey, molasses, vanilla, banana, milk and egg. Pour this mixture into the dry mixture and fold together until just combined.

4. Fold in the candied ginger and raisins until evenly distributed.

5. Using an oven mitt, remove the hot skillet from the oven. Drop the 2 tbs. organic butter in the skillet. Once melted, swirl the butter around the skillet to evenly coat the bottom and sides.

6. Pour the gingerbread batter into the hot skillet. Return to the oven and bake for 35-40 minutes, until the top is a deep, dark brown and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool in the pan. Serve by cutting into wedges.