Christmas Used to Last Forever

When I was a child the holidays seemed to go on for months. At the beginning of December the decorations would go up and as schedules slowed and school let out, we were left with plenty of time to sit around the tree with a cup of cider or hot cocoa and take in the season.

Today, I’m lucky if it feels like Christmas the week leading up to the 25th. Usually I get in the holiday spirit as I run around town, fighting crowds in an effort to cross off my Christmas list. While I love finding gifts for the important people in my life, I find it somewhat sad that I can’t get in the spirit until the shopping begins.



I didn’t know this was true for me until my family decided not to do Christmas gifts this year. In an effort to focus on what’s most important – time together – this year we are cooking meals with each other instead of buying gifts. Though I did just receive notification that one Thomas H. Durff has sent me a gift subscription to The Atlantic Monthly (someone’s cheating!).

The sad news is that without the many shopping trips in search of the perfect gift, I found myself totally lacking in Christmas spirit. Determined to redefine Christmas traditions so I can get in the holiday mood without racking up a huge credit card bill, I turned to the kitchen.



I wanted to make something in bulk so I could use the resulting product as gifts, but I didn’t want to make cookies. Decorated cookies may look festive, but I don’t really care for the way they taste. Then I stumbled on an article about homemade truffles in one of the Martha Stewart publications. I knew I could get creative with flavored ganache fillings and really how difficult could they be? Note to self: If I ever think, ‘really how difficult could they be,’ again, I will clear my calendar for the weekend and prepare to make seven trips to the store for more toppings, chocolate and gift boxes. When you’re doing something for the first time and not really using a set recipe, look out, things are going to get ugly.

While Martha’s ganache truffles seemed to stay perfectly firm with no coating, mine melted on contact with any finger that was near room temperature. And while all the articles I could find on coating truffles with chocolate seemed to think it wasn’t really necessary to temper the chocolate, my coating turned into a clumpy glob when I did not. I’m still attempting to make up with the boyfriend who was the recipient of, “get the f*$% out of the kitchen,” when the coating wasn’t going on smoothly.



So, did I fail miserably at getting myself into the Christmas spirit? Not entirely. First, the crazed trips to the store seemed to bring back that sense of holiday urgency that had been missing from my December. Second, by the time I got through the fifteenth bag of chocolate and had the kinks worked out, I was left with some decent looking truffles and the feeling that I would be able to spread a little chocolaty holiday cheer after all.

If you have time left in your holiday schedule and want to try these at home, I’ve included the basic ratio of cream to chocolate for the ganache filling as well as the four variations I created to add more flavor. If you don’t want the truffles melting on contact, coat them with chocolate that has been tempered. You can read about how to temper your chocolate here. It’s not that difficult and worth the time.



Ganache Truffle Filling
Makes about 40 truffles

16 oz chocolate (dark, semi-sweet or milk – your choice)
1 2/3 cups heavy cream

To use these variations, add the flavoring to the cream right as it comes to a simmer, but before you turn off the heat:

Chile truffles – 3/4 t cayenne pepper
Peanut butter truffles – 3/4 to about 1 cup of creamy peanut butter
Mint truffles – replace 12 oz of the chocolate with mint flavored chocolate
Earl Grey truffles – place 12 bags of Earl Grey in the cream, turn off the heat and let steep for 20 minutes. Remove the tea bags and reheat the cream slightly before adding to the chocolate.

Place 16 ounces of the chocolate of your choice in a heatproof bowl. Place the cream in a small saucepan and bring just to a simmer. Keep a close watch as simmering cream will very quickly boil over. Add any of the flavorings included above to the cream or create your own variations. Pour the warm cream over the chocolate and whisk until fully incorporated. Allow the mixture to cool slightly and then let it set in the refrigerator overnight.

Cover a cookie sheet with parchment paper and use a small ice cream scoop or melon baller to portion out the ganache into small spheres, about 1-inch in diameter. Roll the ganache pieces between your hands to make a smoother circle. It’s not necessary, but I highly recommend using disposable, protective gloves for this part. It’s more sanitary if you’re giving the truffles as gifts and you’ll be washing your hands every five minutes if you don’t. Allow the ganache pieces to chill in the refrigerator again while you prepare the chocolate coating.

Select your chocolate coating (again, your choice of dark, semi-sweet, milk, etc.). I found that it took about 24 ounces to coat 80 truffles. Temper the chocolate according to the directions found here and use a dipping tool or toothpicks to submerge the ganache in coating. I read everything I could find on the best way to dip, but trial and error seemed to be the most helpful. Just submerge the ganache in the coating and try to get the excess off before setting it back on the cookie sheet to harden. If you’re topping the chocolate coating in anything (chopped nuts, sea salt, candy cane pieces, etc.) do this right away before the chocolate begins to harden. Place the coated truffles in the refrigerator overnight or for at least four hours, if you’re in a hurry, to fully harden.

Package as desired and spread your own version of chocolaty holiday cheer.

Poutine, Freezing and Stewing

It is freezing and I am stewing.

As already established on this blog, I am aware that freezing is a relative term so please, don’t all you Midwesterners jump on me at once. It has dropped into the 40s at night this week and for Los Angeles, by definition, that is freezing. Not to mention that I just returned from Wisconsin where it was, ahem, in the low 40s at night.

As far as the stewing is concerned, it mainly centers on meat, not my emotional state of mind – a much more delicious alternative. I just can’t help myself; I don’t want to turn my oven off in this cold weather. Already there have been soups and stews; braises and bread baking; even pastries on one choice afternoon.

The most celebrated winter dish, new to my kitchen this year, is poutine. It’s only been celebrated by one person so far, but he has done enough on his own to earn it that designation. Poutine sounds pedestrian in theory – fries, covered with melted cheese curds, covered with gravy – but the right gravy can elevate the dish to something else entirely.

I originally created a poutine recipe of my own to avoid the $120 dinners at Animal that were threatening to turn into a weekly occurrence. My boyfriend had it bad for poutine and unlike the Canadian creators of the dish, we seemed hard-pressed to find it on many menus. As we would start planning for our weekend and the inevitable question of where to eat came up, I could see his eyes start to glaze over as he thought about the dish and subsequently pleaded with me to go to Animal, just one more time.

Not that I have a problem eating at Animal every weekend. It is by far my favorite restaurant in L.A. at the moment, but my pocketbook and my arteries started begging for mercy. So, into the kitchen I went determined to save our health and our finances and according to the boyfriend, I succeeded. He even thinks my poutine is better than Animal’s. I’m not certain about that but it is good enough to satisfy his craving and easy enough that I think you’ll enjoy making it at home.

Use this recipe only as a guide. I have varied it each time I’ve made it according to what I already had on hand and it is still delicious, even with modifications. Make sure you use real deal cheese curds - Trader Joes sells them if you have trouble locating them - and feel free to make your own fries, I just like to make the process slightly easier by using the frozen variety. I make my gravy with oxtails because that’s what Animal uses, but if you have a favorite recipe, by all means have at it. And finally, apologies in advance if this is your first introduction to poutine. I take no responsibility for resulting addictions.

Poutine
Serves 2

Gravy:
1 – 1 1/2 pounds oxtail (4 – 6 meaty pieces)
1 quart chicken (or beef) stock, preferably homemade
1 onion, roughly chopped
2 carrots, roughly chopped
2 pieces celery, roughly chopped
1 bay leaf
2-3 sprigs thyme
2 T olive oil
Salt and pepper

To Serve:
French Fries (I use one bag of frozen fries from Trader Joes)
1/2 cup cheese curds

Preheat oven to 375*
Sprinkle the oxtails with salt and pepper. Heat the olive oil in a Dutch oven over medium high heat and brown the oxtails on all sides. Remove to a plate. Add more oil if the pan is dry and sauté the onions, celery and carrots for five minutes, until just starting to soften. Return the oxtails to the pan and add the stock, bay leaf and thyme. If the stock doesn’t almost cover the oxtails, add water until the tops of the oxtails are just peaking out of the stock (but no more than two cups of water). Cover and place in the oven. Cook for three to four hours until the meat is tender and falling off the bone.

When the meat is finished, turn off the oven, remove the oxtails to a plate and set the pan over medium high heat. While the remaining stock is reducing (it should already be significantly reduced after four hours in the oven) pick all of the oxtail meat off the bone. When the stock is looking thick and gravy-like, add the meat to the gravy to warm through.

If you haven’t already, and you should have already, make your French fries. Transfer the French fries to an oven-safe serving dish and sprinkle with cheese curds. Place in your cooling oven for five – 10 minutes until the cheese is melted. Top the fries with gravy and serve while piping hot.

Aebleskivers and Unitaskers

My kitchen is very familiar with unitaskers - Alton Brown’s name for kitchen appliances that serve only one function. In Alton’s world they are reviled, but in mine they are an all-too-common occurrence. That is why, when I come across a unitasker that catches my eye, I walk away as quickly as I can. I simply don’t have room in my apartment kitchen, nor in my kitchen budget, for every kitchen tool known to man, no matter how much I would actually like to own them all.

This policy of limiting unitaskers is why I first walked away from the aebleskiver pan, and then again and again, until finally after at least a year of lusting after it, I gave in. It’s small, it won’t take up too much room, I love weekend breakfasts made at home, it was purchased with a gift card – these are the justifications that convinced me I could make room for just one more pan.

After three weekends in a row of Saturday-morning aebleskivers, I can fully endorse the purchase of one more unitasker. Go for it. This round, filled pancakes make such a delicious breakfast and they appear much more impressive to your guests than their easy preparation would lead you to expect.

I experimented with three different fillings over the course of those three weekends including an involved apple tarte tatin recipe courtesy of Williams-Sonoma and a delicious apple butter purchased at an orchard back East. I am thrilled that the favorite filling to date is nothing more than Bonne Maman raspberry preserves. No work needed for the filling means these Danish treats are even easier to prepare.

So go forth and purchase a unitasker. Even if you don’t have Alton’s blessing, you certainly have mine.



Aebleskivers

2 eggs separated
2 T vegetable oil
1 t sugar
1 cup flour
1/2 t baking powder
1 cup milk
1/4 t salt

In a medium bowl beat the egg yolks and sugar until light in color. Combine the remaining dry ingredients and add to the egg mixture. Mix in the milk and oil, alternating between the two. In a separate bowl, beat the egg whites until stiff and fold them into the batter.

Place the aebleskiver pan over medium heat and grease the indentations with butter. Place one tablespoon of batter in each indentation, top with a teaspoon of filling (your choice) and finish with another tablespoon of batter. Let cook for 3 – 4 minutes until the bottoms are beginning to turn a nice golden brown (the only way to tell is to try flipping one). Use two skewers or chopsticks to flip the aebleskivers by pushing down on one side with one skewer while simultaneously pulling up on the other side with the other skewer. If this makes no sense, watch this video. Let the aebleskivers cook for 2 – 3 minutes more after flipping. Serve immediately with a dusting of powdered sugar and some maple syrup.

The First Soup of Fall

The first soup of fall is a highly anticipated event at my house - at least by me. I’m not certain that anyone else even notices that rich, warm soups have been missing from the menu for months.

For Southern California residents like myself, it takes a certain finesse to know when the time is right for that first soup. Though the first official day of fall was September 22, the ninety degree weather we were experiencing at the time certainly was not conducive to soup. Here are a few signs I look for to help me figure out if it’s time: the last tomato has been pulled from the vines in the backyard; rather than gazpacho, I start to crave something warm and substantial; and the idea of turning the oven on for a few hours sounds comforting rather than torturous.

That time arrived on a recent Sunday when temperatures finally dipped below seventy and a low-lying Pacific fog that rolled in off the coast made me want to stay inside and hunker down with something nourishing. I was holding on to a recipe for Maple Carrot Soup from Delicious Magazine for just that kind of day. This soup is delicious, hearty and nourishing – all of the things one might want in a great fall soup. Just be sure to have it as an appetizer as it is surprisingly filling in large portions.

Of course, since I made this soup, temperatures in Los Angeles have returned to the eighties and I broke a sweat yesterday just walking to lunch. I hear that more cool weather is just around the corner and for once, I couldn’t be happier - perhaps the result of a recent trip to New York that forced me to bundle up in jackets and scarves as temperatures dropped into the…wait for it… fifties…gasp(!)… Surprisingly, this California girl loved it and is now ready for fall with scarves and rain boots in hand and on foot.



Maple Carrot Soup
Adapted from Delicious Magazine
Serves 6 - 8

2 pounds carrots, cleaned
2 onions, diced
1-inch piece ginger, peeled and grated
4 cloves garlic, minced
1/3 cup maple syrup
2 T olive oil + more if needed
4 cups chicken stock
Salt and pepper to taste
Crème fraiche to serve

Preheat oven to 350*
Slice the carrots about 1/4-inch think. A mandolin will make quick work of this. Line a baking sheet with a Silpat or parchment paper. Toss the carrots and onions with the ginger, garlic, maple syrup and olive oil and place on the baking sheet. Roast for 30-40 minutes, stirring and turning once or twice during cooking. If the carrots look like they are drying out, add more olive oil a tablespoon at a time. When the carrots and onions begin to soften, transfer them to a large pot with all of the juices from the baking sheet and add the chicken stock. Season with salt and pepper. Cover and bring to a boil and then simmer for about 20 minutes until the carrots are completely soft. Use an immersion blender to puree the soup in the pot, adding more water or stock as necessary to thin it out. Serve appetizer portions with a dollop of crème fraiche, maple syrup and snipped chives.

Martha's Buttermilk Biscuits

I have southern roots. My feet are firmly planted in Los Angeles and have been for the majority of my 29 years, but my roots are most definitely southern. My mother was born in Vicksburg, Mississippi and my father in Memphis, Tennessee. My mother even bares the title of Miss Mississippi, but don’t tell her I told you. She’s not the beauty queen type and would be horrified to know you knew.

They moved to Los Angeles in the 60s to plant new roots, and while the southern accents have faded, there are some things you just can’t get rid of. Of course, in my family, most of the things you can’t get rid of are food-related. Cornbread dressing at Thanksgiving, a possibly too generous use of salt in just about everything, the understanding that few dishes wouldn’t be better with at least a dollop of mayonnaise and on it goes.

With this culinary background to draw from, you would think I would be the go-to-girl for buttermilk biscuits. I should have biscuits coming out of my ears, but instead, I’m hard-pressed to remember one batch of them from my childhood. Plenty of cornbread – no biscuits. So on a recent evening when a friend put in a special request for buttermilk biscuits, I turned to Martha, a trusted source for baked goods I have not made before.

These biscuits are delicious and so quick to pull together you won’t feel right about how easy it was, but the feeling of unease will disappear as soon as you taste the warm, buttery goodness that just came out of your oven. Kudos to Martha for filling in the gaps of my southern roots. Just don’t tell Miss Mississippi - she’s not exactly the Martha type either.


Martha’s Buttermilk Biscuits
Recipe cut in half an adapted from Martha Stewart’s Baking Handbook

2 cups flour
2 t baking powder
1/2 t baking
1/2 t salt
1 t sugar
1 stick butter
3/4 cups + 1/8 cup buttermilk

Preheat the oven to 375*

Place the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt and sugar in a food processor and pulse just to combine. Take the cold butter from the fridge and cut into small pieces, taking care not to let the butter get warm. Add the butter to the food processor and pulse briefly just until the flour starts to look coarse. You should still have large pieces of unincorporated butter. Turn the mixture out into a mixing bowl and pour in the buttermilk. Stir gently, just until combined. Do not over mix. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and pat into a circle, about 1-inch thick. Use a biscuit cutter to cut the biscuits. Place on a baking sheet and brush with extra buttermilk. Bake for 18-20 minutes, slather with more butter and enjoy.

Making Cheese Even Better

I’m a sucker for a pretty picture. Especially if that picture is of food and in this particular case if that picture is of oil-dressed tomatoes piled high on top of slices of fried cheese. I have a few cookbooks that I adore that have absolutely no pictures of food, Marcella Hazan’s Essentials of Italian Cooking to name just one, but for the most part, beautiful pictures are what draw me in to a recipe, a book or an ingredient. It’s called food porn and it’s why, in addition to my obscene cookbook collection, I have subscriptions to every major food magazine.

Back to the tomatoes piled high on fried cheese. There isn’t much you can do to cheese to make it better than it already is, but frying it is certainly one way to try. Most cheeses can’t stand up to the heat, but one exception is Halloumi. Mentioned many times before on this blog, Halloumi is a Mediterranean cheese that has a very high melting point – in other words, you can pan fry it and it will keep its shape, but even more importantly something magical happens. The saltiness of the cheese is set off by the warm, melting creaminess and if you’ve left the Halloumi in the pan long enough, at a high enough heat, the crunchy crust that forms on the surface of the cheese finishes everything off with a seriously good contrast of textures. It’s cheese heaven so whenever I see a recipe that calls for it, I take note.

My latest ‘the pictures are just too pretty to pass up’ purchase is The Family Chef by Jewels and Jill Elmore. In a feeble attempt to stunt the growth of my cookbook collection, I stopped myself from buying this book the first time I saw it back in June, but after reading more about the sisters in this month’s Sunset Magazine, I knew I had to go back for a second look. I realized my first instinct was right and quickly purchased the book. It has been my bedside reading for the past week and their Halloumi Cheese with Cucumber Lentil Salad is the first recipe I made from it.

An added bonus with this recipe is that I discovered the boyfriend likes lentils! I didn’t think it was possible that such a healthy powerhouse could be on his list of, ‘please make me more of this right now,’ foods, especially after our phone conversation the day before I made the dish. He called me while I was browsing the aisles of Whole Foods and when told I was getting lentils, he responded with, “Why on earth would you be doing that? Lentils are gross.” Not encouraging, but he rarely knows what’s good for him so I picked them up anyway, made this salad and he couldn’t get enough. He even picked a lentil dish out of another cookbook for me to make the next night. I think I’m on to something here. Maybe you can be too.


Halloumi Cheese with Cucumber Lentil Salad
Adapted from The Family Chef (to make a smaller portion)

1/2 cup beluga lentils cooked according to package directions
1 medium cucumber, peeled in strips, halved lengthwise and sliced into half circles
2 ripe tomatoes (preferably one yellow and one red), cut into chunks
3 T extra-virgin olive oil + more for frying cheese
2 T chopped parsley
2 T chopped mint
2 T lemon juice
Salt and pepper to taste
1 package of Halloumi cheese, cut into 8 slices

Place the first seven ingredients in a bowl, season with salt and pepper and mix together. Heat a non-stick pan over medium-high heat and add some olive oil (about a tablespoon or two). Add the Halloumi slices and cook each side until golden brown, 2 – 3 minutes per side. Place the Halloumi slices on a platter and top with the tomato and cucumber mixture. Serve immediately while the cheese is still warm.

Pickles at Happy Medium

I don’t think there is any arguing with the fact that we live in an instant gratification oriented society. I certainly know it’s true in my life of internet shopping and instant music downloads to my iPhone, but there is one area where I try my hardest to leave that fast-paced lifestyle behind – the kitchen.

I am a card carrying member of Slow Food USA and, as mentioned before on this blog, would probably be quite happy spending my days curing prosciutto in my basement and experimenting with cheese cultures for the different blues and triple creams ripening in my fridge, but the truth is I just don’t have that kind of time. The majority of us have to work for a living so those projects must wait for the occasional, lazy weekend day. Making food and food products from scratch at home is no longer a necessity to be able to eat, but a luxury for those who have the time.

Since I don’t have time to be my own cheese maker, farmer or butcher, I have done my best to find a happy medium. I do grow some of my own vegetables and what I don’t have time to do myself, I try to purchase from the artisans who are taking the time and care to do it right (farmers markets, small batch cheese producers, etc.). This doesn’t mean I’m never at Ralphs buying blueberries shipped in from Argentina. It just means I make an effort not to be there, but when I am, I don’t feel guilty and neither should you.

My favorite happy medium of the summer is refrigerator pickles. They’re quick and easy for the home cook who wants a pickled vegetable by next weekend, but doesn’t have the time or desire to make sure that there are pickles put up for the whole winter. It was quite satisfying and easy with pickled radishes from my own garden and even easier with my recent batch of pickled cucumbers, made from cucumbers purchased at the farmer’s market.

After I picked up two pounds of bright emerald green pickling cucumbers, I went looking for a good way to use them. Most of the recipes I found were intended for huge batches of pickles that were headed for a canning bath and wouldn’t be ready to consume for at least a month. I wanted pickles and I wanted them a lot sooner than in a month. I also wanted to be able to spend the evening with my boyfriend and not gently lowering and lifting canning jars in and out of a pot of boiling water. Instead, I mixed up a basic brine, cut the ends off my pickling cucumbers to allow the brine to quickly penetrate the cucumbers, poured the vinegary liquid over the cucumbers and let them sit, first on the counter and then in the refrigerator. Five days later I had wonderful crispy perfect pickles. Five days may not seem like instant gratification in your book, but compared to a month or two for the canned variety, I was happy. So were the rest of the pickle eaters at my BBQ the next Friday night. We all sat around a bonfire, happily crunching on some of the best pickles any of us had ever had and these are the folks who taste more of my food than anyone else. I can tell when they’re lying, and they were not.



Happy Medium Pickles

2 pounds pickling cucumbers
1 cup white wine vinegar
3 – 4 cups water
1/4 cup salt
4 garlic cloves
1/2 bunch of fresh dill
1 T mustard seed
1 1/2 T coriander seed
1 quart sized jar (or larger)

Rinse the cucumbers, dry thoroughly and chill in the refrigerator for at least two hours. If you've been keeping your cucumbers in the fridge, you can skip the drying and chilling steps. Heat the vinegar and three cups of water in a small saucepan and stir in the salt until dissolved. Set the vinegar mixture aside to cool just slightly. Place a few dill sprigs at the bottom of the jar along with the garlic cloves and half the mustard and coriander seeds. Cut the stem and blossom ends off the cucumbers (an eight of an inch is all you need to remove) and place them in the jar. Pour the vinegar mixture over the cucumbers, adding more water as needed to cover. Place a few more sprigs of dill and the remaining coriander and mustard seeds over the cucumbers. If the cucumbers are not fully submerged, add more dill to force the cucumbers fully under water. Leave the jar on the counter for two days and then place in the refrigerator for two to three days more. Enjoy the pickles within a week of opening the container.

Mayonnaise - How to Cheat

One thing I have noticed over the years is that mayonnaise is an oddly divisive substance. Many hate it with a passion, refusing to let it so much as touch a piece of sandwich bread, while others love it, slathering it on artichokes, mixing in herbs and calling it a sauce, even topping the occasional plate of scrambled eggs with a dollop just because they can. I am a card-carrying member of the latter group. It may be because both my parents are from the South where mayonnaise is more of a staple ingredient than just a condiment. Not a day went by at 3752 Chevy Chase Drive that we didn’t have a huge jar of Best Food’s (Hellman’s for you East Coasters) in the fridge, with another one on standby in the cupboard.

My appreciation of mayonnaise seemed perfectly normal amongst my own kind. In fact, I didn’t realize there was anything wrong with my level of mayonnaise consumption until my sophomore year of college when my roommates looked on, horrified at my decision to fold up pieces of Kraft American singles and dip them into my oversized jar of mayonnaise as a snack. Clearly, my gourmet tendencies had yet to take hold.

For someone who loves mayonnaise as much as I do, I find it surprising that this past weekend was the first time I tried to make mayonnaise at home. I guess it’s due to my devotion to Best Food’s. I never saw the need. I am here to tell you that I have been reformed. I still love my Best Food’s, but there is something completely different and luxurious about homemade mayonnaise. I am also here to tell you about a few mistakes I made with the first two attempts that never emulsified. Making mayonnaise is not as simple as it seems.

If you’re not in the Los Angeles area, then you don’t know that it topped 100 degrees this past weekend and not just in the Valley. It was a hot one and without the benefit of any air conditioning, the idea of vigorously whisking egg yolk while slooooowly adding oil, drop by drop at first, seemed like too much physical exertion for such a hot day. I decided to take a lovely looking recipe from Michael Rulhman and make it in my blender. After all, the blender will certainly whisk vigorously while I have my hands free to add the oil drop by drop. Right? Not so. It turns out, according to The Joy of Cooking, that you need to have egg white included in the recipe if you’re trying to make a blender mayonnaise. Clearly J o C must know what they’re talking about so I transitioned to their recipe which called for using a bit of egg white in addition to the yolk and a Cuisinart instead of a blender. I fitted my Cuisinart with the plastic blade as directed and attempted batch number two. Still no emulsification. Perhaps I added the oil too quickly? Possibly, but I have a sneaking suspicion that the plastic blade did not create enough agitation to get the mixture to emulsify.

Already having dirtied two of my major kitchen appliances, I eyed the third. Epiphany. If I used the whisk attachment on my KitchenAid mixer, then who, other than the all-seeing kitchen Gods, would ever know that it was, in fact, a mixing machine and not my own arm that was attached to that whisk? I reverted back to Ruhlman’s recipe and in about five or 10 minutes had a wonderful mountain of homemade mayonnaise sitting in front of me. Success. Who says cheating never gets you anywhere? Truth be told, the energy exerted while washing all of those appliances is at least equal to, if not more than what it would have taken me to whisk the darn thing by hand in the first place.

My final tip on homemade mayonnaise? Once you have succeeded in getting the mixture to emulsify, for God’s sake, don’t ruin it by throwing it in a blender to add fresh herbs. I lost two thirds of my beautiful mayonnaise by trying to turn it into basil mayonnaise in the blender. I managed to break the emulsification and ended up with a runny purple mess in front of me (purple basil). Thank goodness I had set some aside that I was able to combine with hand-chopped basil.


I served this basil mayonnaise next to a gorgeous skirt steak that the boyfriend grilled, but it would be equally delicious on just about any kind of sandwich.

Mayonnaise
Adapted from Michael Ruhlman

1 egg yolk
1/2 t salt
1 t lemon juice
1 t water
1 cup vegetable oil

Place egg yolk, salt, lemon juice and water in the bowl of a mixer fitted with the whisk attachment and whisk on medium to combine. Pour vegetable oil into a glass measuring cup, preferably with a pouring spout. Turn mixer up to medium high and use a spoon to add the oil to the mixer, drop by drop, until about a third of the oil is mixed in. You should see the emulsification coming together as a thick, white, creamy sauce. Each time you add oil you will see the emulsification loosen, then come together around the whisk and then start sticking to the sides of the bowl again. When the mixture sticks to the bowl, you know it’s safe to add more oil. I used the spoon method for the entire cup of oil, mainly because I had already broken two emulsifications that afternoon. If you are brave, feel free to start adding the oil in a slow drizzle after the first third is successfully incorporated. Once all the oil is incorporated, you should be left with glorious, luxurious mayonnaise. Use as you will.