Treats for Tricksters

While I’ll never show disrespect for a fun-size candy bar, I think it’s time to make a homemade treat for all the part-time devils, ghouls, zombies and Snookis roaming around this time of year. I actually love to make candy, so when the cheerfully messy part of my brain said, “Let’s make a batch of Mom’s caramel corn for Halloween,” the less motivated part went along with surprisingly little reluctance. (I guess I’m going as multiple personality disorder for Halloween.)

While I know I was hanging around the kitchen when Mom was making this caramel corn, I don’t think I ever participated in the process. In fact, as good of a cook as my mom is, I learned very little cooking from her. (She said I wasn’t interested. Whatever!) Most of what I remember learning in my parents’ kitchen I learned from Dad, who doesn’t cook. He taught me how to make eggs over easy, a jug of Kool Aid, and popcorn.

There wasn’t a fancy popcorn popper in our house. Dad made popcorn on the stove in a warped and battered kettle that had started its life as the bottom of a double boiler. He would heat the popcorn (just enough to cover the bottom of the kettle) in vegetable oil (just enough to cover the bottom of the kettle), shaking it gently until one or two of the kernels popped. He then put on the copper-colored lid and shook that kettle so vigorously that tiny sparks flickered between its lumpy, blackened bottom and the burner.

Things would get exciting if the popcorn would start to overachieve and he had to hold the lid on to keep the pot from overflowing. The popped corn would then get dumped into a big, white Tupperware bowl. If no one was on a diet (which was rare), a couple tablespoons of margarine would go into the still-hot kettle to melt and then get poured over the popcorn. Dad would apply salt, holding the shaker about two and a half feet above the bowl (so he could see the grains better as they sprinkled down) and stir it all with a butter knife, holding one big hand over the top of the popcorn to keep it from jumping out of the bowl. Our family of four would then gather around the bowl, usually on the living room floor, and watch network television.

Yes, Dad is the stuff when it comes to homemade popcorn. But this isn’t a treatise on popcorn. As important as good, well-popped corn is to this recipe, it’s really all about the sweet, buttery caramel coating. Brown sugar, butter (mom used margarine, but I never buy that anymore), dark corn syrup, and a bit of salt are boiled together, then joined by baking soda and a splash of vanilla. Baking soda is an important addition to hard candies that you want to be able to chew without breaking teeth. I use it to make perfectly crunchy peanut brittle as well.

The hot caramel syrup is poured over popcorn, which is something best done very carefully, since this is very hot stuff. An apron might not be enough protection. You’re best armed with a bit of strength and coordination as well. I wouldn’t even mock you if you wore safety goggles. Anyway, the coated corn is baked in a low oven, and when it cools, which, thankfully, doesn’t take very long, it is a sweet and crunchy treat that you’ll have to break down and share because the batch is so huge.

I don’t know why this stuff is so good… What am I saying? It’s popcorn slathered in butter and sugar. What could not be good about that? It’s buttery and sweet, with a bit of darkness from the molasses in the brown sugar and dark corn syrup. If you use the right amount of popcorn, the coating is light and crispy, just right for fluffy, fresh popcorn.

This caramel corn is good. Really good. Really, really good. I’m thinking there are plenty of ghosts, monsters and aliens, princesses, cartoon characters and “reality” TV stars, and even a naughty nurse or two who would gladly exchange even the nastiest tricks for this delicious treat.

Caramel Corn
Recipe courtesy of my mom.

½ pound (2 sticks) butter
2 cups (about 500 ml) brown sugar
1 (5 ml) teaspoon salt
1 cup (about 250 ml) dark corn syrup (such as Karo brand)
1 teaspoon (5 ml) baking soda
1 teaspoon (5 ml) vanilla extract
6 quarts (about 6 liters) plain popped popcorn

1. Preheat oven to 200 F (about 95 C). Place the popcorn in a very large bowl with enough room to stir the popcorn. If you don’t have a large enough bowl (I don’t) divide the popcorn between two or more bowls. Set aside. Line two large rimmed baking sheets with aluminum foil. Cover the bottom and the rims with the foil. Spay the foil with nonstick cooking spray or brush evenly with vegetable oil. Set aside.

2. Combine the butter, brown sugar, salt and dark corn syrup in a medium size saucepan. Cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally as the butter melts. Bring to a full boil.

3. Boil for 5 minutes (no need to stir). Reduce the heat or remove the pan from the burner if the caramel threatens to boil over.

4. Remove from the heat and stir in the baking soda until completely blended.

Stir in the vanilla. The mixture may bubble vigorously when the vanilla is added, so be careful to avoid being splashed by the hot syrup.

5. Very carefully pour the hot caramel over the popcorn. Working quickly but carefully, stir to coat the popcorn as evenly as possible.


6. Transfer the coated popcorn to the prepared baking sheets. Place the sheets on racks in the upper third and lower third of the oven. Bake at 200 F (95 C) for 30 minutes, stirring and turning the caramel corn occasionally. Switch the positions of the pans, putting the one on the lower rack on the upper rack and vice versa. Continue baking for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally.

7. Remove from the oven and stir one more time. Cool in the pan on wire racks. Serve or transfer to an airtight container where it will keep for several days (but it will probably be eaten before then.)

Makes a generous 6 quarts (6 liters), or anywhere from 1 to 20 servings.

Another candy treat: Bittersweet Almond Amaretto Truffles

One year ago: Roasted Vegetables

Cranberry Vinaigrette

Around here there is a resurgence of local greens for salad after the hot growing season is over. The lettuces and such that were spring greens months ago get replanted and show up in our CSA box as fall greens. While I still love a nice salad with tomatoes and peppers and red wine vinaigrette or ranch dressing, for a seasonal spin, I like to put some fall ingredients in my side salad, such as apples, dried fruits and nuts.

To go with these fall salads, I recently tried a recipe for cranberry vinaigrette. The ingredients are simply whirled together in a blender until they make a pretty pink emulsion that, because of its resemblance to a lovely, fruity drink, was quickly christened “smoothie dressing” at a dinner I had recently with fun relatives. The vinaigrette is well-sweetened (I used maple syrup and turbinado sugar) and fruity, but has plenty of tart and savory notes from the sour end of the cranberries, cider vinegar, and Dijon mustard. It is thick and sticks well to just about any salad ingredient, and, while I made my batch several days ago, I have yet to see it begin to separate out of its well-emulsified state as dressings without stabilizers often can.

I really like this dressing with tender fall greens, apples, dried cranberries, nuts and milky ricotta salata cheese. Its sweetened cranberry nature compliments these flavors and textures well. I also think it would be a successful contrast for more robust flavors like bitter arugula, oranges, and pecorino or blue cheese. This recipe makes a lot of vinaigrette, so it looks like I’ll be able to try it in various combinations as long as the late-season greens keep coming. (We’re expecting some greenhouse offerings in our upcoming winter CSA share!)

Fresh cranberries are in the stores now, but you can make this with frozen cranberries as well. Frozen cranberries will be available for a long time, or I highly recommend buying double when you shop for fresh and freezing some yourself. (I think this vinaigrette would be especially attractive on the Christmas dinner table.) Because of their unusually high acid content, cranberries can last even a year or so if well-wrapped and frozen.

The greens will eventually run out, however, especially when the temperature plummets and the snows come, but that’s okay. I’ve got ideas for other uses of Cranberry Vinaigrette, such as dressing a grain salad, stirring it into roasted vegetables, marinating warm spaghetti squash….Hmmm, I think I’ll need to make another batch after all.


Cranberry Vinaigrette
Adapted with alterations from Midwest Living magazine

You can use regular fine sugar for the coarse sugar, but use a little less.

½ cup fresh or frozen cranberries (thaw if frozen)
¼ cup cider vinegar
1 small clove garlic
2 tablespoons minced yellow onion
½ cup extra virgin olive oil
3 tablespoons maple syrup
3 tablespoons coarse sugar (I used turbinado sugar)
½ teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
Pinch black pepper

1. In the jar of a blender or food processor, combine the cranberries, vinegar and garlic. Blend until no longer chunky.

2. Add the remaining ingredients and blend until very smooth. Serve immediately or store in the refrigerator for at least a week (maybe longer.)

Makes about 1 ¾ cups.

Other recipes like this one: Maple Walnut Vinaigrette, Pomegranate Molasses Vinaigrette

One year ago: Pizza

The Taste of Green: Chard Soup

I tried this recipe for chard soup with cilantro some time ago when I was too busy or lazy or tired (or all three) to record the experience or take any photos. I was so pleasantly surprised by its bright and tangy flavor, however, that I was immediately impatient for another bunch of chard from the CSA so I could try it again. Not only was my impatience eventually rewarded with a small bunch of chard in our final summer/fall share box (don’t worry, there’s a winter share, too) but also with a lovely bunch of cilantro and several sturdy leeks. There were even a few red potatoes left over from a previous week’s box.


This soup is adapted from a recipe in Deborah Madison’s Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone. I basically combined some of the suggested variations and added some lime juice to compliment the cilantro. The original calls for more chard than I had, but my results were still very good. In the recipe below, I offer a range for the amounts of chard (by volume) that I think would probably work. If you have a bumper crop of chard, you might be able to hide even more in this soup.

While I usually like to use an immersion blender for pureed soups like this one, the fibrous nature of the greens makes it a more suitable candidate for the counter-top blender. The immersion blender leaves some leafy pieces behind, which is okay since they are very tender after cooking, but the big blender results in a more silky-smooth soup. Stir some sour cream (mixed with some of the soup to temper it a little) into that puree and you have a creamy, tangy spoonful that will also coat a dunked chunk of rustic bread quite nicely.

I’m finding it difficult to describe the flavor of this soup without using silly foody words like “ethereal,” or “haunting,” or “yummy.” All of the zest and tang from the sour cream, cilantro and lime juice changes the dark, earthy grassiness of the chard into a rounded and creamy flavor. The cilantro contributes a lot in some way, but I can’t say the soup really tastes like cilantro. Perhaps you cilantro loathers might give this a try(?) Then again, I love cilantro, so might not be the best person to suggest such a thing.

It may not be easy to describe the flavor of this soup in meaningful terms, but I will say that if I could choose the taste of the color green, it would be the flavor of Chard Soup with Cilantro and Lime.

Chard Soup with Cilantro and Lime
Adapted from Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone by Deborah Madison

You could use a medium-size chopped yellow onion in place of the leeks.

2 tablespoons butter
2 medium leeks, white part only, sliced and well-washed
3 medium red potatoes, peeled and thinly sliced
1 ½ teaspoons coarse (kosher) salt, plus more to taste
¼ teaspoon ground black pepper
1 teaspoon paprika
7 cups water, divided
8-10 cups chard, stems removed, chopped
1 cup cilantro leaves and tender stems, chopped
juice of 1 lime
1/3 cup sour cream

1. Melt the butter over medium heat in a Dutch oven or other large pot. Add the leeks, potatoes and salt and cook, stirring occasionally, 8 minutes or until just beginning to brown.

2. Stir in pepper and paprika. Add ½ cup water. Cook about 1 minute, scraping up any browned bits on the bottom of the pan.

3. Add the chard and cilantro. Cook a few minutes or until the greens have wilted down, stirring occasionally.

4. Add remaining 6 ½ cups water. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat, partially cover and gently boil 20-30 minutes or until potatoes are very soft.

5. Remove the soup from the heat and allow to cool slightly. Puree in batches in a blender until all of the soup is smooth. Return to a pot on the burner and stir in the lime juice.

6. In a measuring cup or small bowl, mix together the sour cream and about ½ cup of the pureed soup until smooth. Stir the sour cream mixture into the soup until well blended. Re-warm the soup over low heat if necessary. Taste for salt and add more if desired.

Makes about 6 servings. Leftovers will keep for a few days in the refrigerator. The color may become dull.

Other recipes like this one: Cream of Carrot and Parsnip Soup, Sausage and Spinach Soup

Another Swiss chard recipe: Chard Tart with Feta Cheese and Olives

Put it in a Pie

Lately, I’ve found myself attracted particularly to a certain arch-genre of recipes, no matter what kind of cookbook I’m browsing. Whatever ethnicity, lifestyle or philosophy lent its recipes to the pages, I’m always stopping to savor recipes for pies, tarts, turnovers, dumplings and the like. Whatever way you’ve come up with to wrap ingredients, sweet or savory, in pastry or bread and bake it until golden brown, I’m interested.

A few years ago, I tried a recipe published in the newsletter of our CSA for a winter squash empanada with leeks and sage. It was another, creative use of the mounds of lovely squash we get this time of year, and the fall leeks and sage fit in quite well. This year, I changed a few things and actually managed to write down the details to create an updated recipe.

You might be used to a different treatment of the dough and cooking procedure for a more authentic empanada, but I grew up in America’s pasty heartland, and the pastry in this recipe, which was more like a pie crust, put it into familiar territory for me. You can call this a pasty or a hand pie or a pocket full of pie, or whatever you like, but since the flavors are at least a little Southwestern USA, I’ll still call it an empanada as the original authors did. I also added a bit of seasoning to the crust, along with some cider vinegar, which takes it further out of the Cornish (or U.P. of Michigan) pasty category. I suppose the added Parmesan cheese (I prefer freshly-grated Parmiggiano-Reggiano), takes it out of all firmly-defined categories entirely.

The filling for these empanadas is partially cooked before being wrapped in crust, ensuring that you’ll have tender squash before charred crust. Partially cooking the squash also makes it easier to peel and chop. All the steps in the recipe definitely take at least their fair share time from your schedule, but they can be done in stages, some of them ahead of time, and the baked empanadas can be frozen to be reheated on another day when you don’t have as much time to cook.

I really like the sweet squash (I used a carnival squash, but you could use any sweet winter squash) with the aromatic, slightly garlicky leeks, and the sage adds a pleasant, earthy background. I suppose one could insert a treatise on umami as provided by the Parmesan cheese, but I won’t go there. It tastes really good in the pie, and that’s enough. You could use a different cheese if you want, such as an aged Gouda, Manchego, or even cheddar or Monterey Jack. I really don’t feel that there is any authenticity that needs to be obeyed in this recipe. You could use it as a model for any good ingredients that go well enough together to mix them up and put them in a pie.

Winter Squash and Leek Empanadas with Sage
Adapted from Featherstone Farm Newsletter

Pastry
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup whole wheat pastry flour
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon chili powder
½ teaspoon salt
10 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into small cubes
1 tablespoon cider vinegar
5 tablespoons (plus more as needed) ice water

Filling
1 medium winter squash (about 1 ½ - 2 pounds untrimmed)
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 large leek, thinly sliced
½ teaspoon coarse salt
3 garlic cloves, minced
¼ teaspoon black pepper
¼ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
1 tablespoon chopped sage leaves
½ cup grated Parmesan cheese

1. To make the pastry, combine the flours, cumin, chili powder and ½ teaspoon salt in a medium-size bowl. Stir or whisk to combine well. Cut in the butter with a pastry blender or knives or with your fingers until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs.

2. Add the cider vinegar and ice water and mix with a fork to moisten the flour mixture. Add more water as needed to gather the mixture into a ball that just holds together. Form the dough into a disk and wrap in plastic wrap. Chill for at least 30 minutes. (You can do this ahead or prepare the filling while the pastry is chilling.)

3. Preheat the oven to 350 F. Cut the squash in half and scoop out the seeds. Place the squash cut side down on a baking sheet. Bake at 350 F until the squash is soft, but not completely cooked, about 30-40 minutes. Remove from the oven and cool until easy to handle.

4. Peel the squash and cut into 1-1 ½-inch cubes. Set aside in a large bowl.

5. Place the sliced leeks in a bowl or sink full of cold water. Swish the slices around to remove all traces of dirt. Place in a colander and rinse well. Drain and set aside.

6. Preheat oven to 400 F. Heat the oil in a medium-size skillet over medium heat. Add the leeks and ½ teaspoon salt. Cook, stirring frequently until soft, but not yet browning, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more. Stir in the black pepper, red pepper flakes and sage leaves. Remove from heat.

7. Add the leek mixture and Parmesan cheese to the squash and stir to combine. Set aside. (The filling can be made ahead to this point, covered and refrigerated for a day or so.)

8. Unwrap the pastry dough and cut into 4 equal pieces. On a well-floured surface, roll the dough into an oval about 1/8-inch thick.

9. Divide the filling into 4 portions. Place one portion onto one half of the dough oval, leaving at least ½ inch border. Fold the other half of the oval over the filling. Seal the halves together by folding and pinching together, being careful not to stretch the dough.

10. Transfer to a lined baking sheet. Repeat with remaining dough sections and filling.

11. Bake at 400 F for about 25 minutes or until the crust is browned and crispy. Cool slightly and serve or cool completely, wrap well and freeze in a freezer safe container or freezer bag.

Makes 4 large servings.

Other recipes like this one: Winter Vegetable Galettes withCheddar, Mustard and Caramelized Onions, Quinoa Stuffed Squash

One year ago: Apple and Cranberry Crisp