I'm not up for a long post today, so let's get right down to business. Banana bread. Via Melissa Clark's book Cook This Now, this banana bread is a play on the traditional recipe with a few key tweaks. It is deeply moist and fragrant with olive oil, banana, and yogurt. An equal mix of whole wheat and white flour adds a pronounced earthy wheat flavor and a nubby crumb. The loaf is strewn with bittersweet chocolate chunks. And if you haven't tried the combination of bright, zippy lemon zest and brown sugar, I am here to tell you that it is great. This is a tempting cake, not too sweet, that will keep for about a week if well-wrapped.

The pictured loaf was from the most recent time I made it. Distracted, I forgot to add the eggs ... not the first time I've left out key ingredients while baking. Improbably, it still tasted great, albeit drier and denser than usual. Like most quick breads, this recipe is rather forgiving (maybe one reason why I like making quick breads!) and easily adaptable. I always have white whole wheat flour on hand, so I substitute an equal amount of that for the whole wheat and white flours. I've tried making this with butter, but I have come to prefer the savory richness of olive oil here. I've also omitted both the lemon zest and the chocolate, and while I think it's fine without the lemon zest, I think the chocolate is essential. Have fun. Try to remember the eggs.

Olive oil banana loaf with lemon zest and chocolate
adapted from Melissa Clark, Cook this Now

According to Clark, the key to an intensely banana-y bread is very ripe bananas. As in, you should be able to smell the vague smell of decaying bananas when you walk in the front door. The problem is, I find that I have to plan at least a week ahead of time to get bananas to this point. Sheesh, bananas!

1. Preheat the oven to 350F and butter a 9x5 loaf pan.

2. In a large bowl, combine and whisk the following:

• 1 cup all purpose flour / 145 grams
• 1 cup whole wheat flour / 136 grams
•  3/4 cup dark brown sugar / 163 grams
• 3/4 teaspoons baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1 cup bittersweet chocolate chips or chunks

2. In a separate bowl, combine and mix the following:

• 1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil (I've also used virgin olive oil)
• 2 large eggs, lightly beaten
• 1 1/2 cups mashed, VERY ripe bananas (~3 or 4 bananas)
• 1/4 cup plain whole milk yogurt or sour cream
• 1 teaspoon freshly grated lemon zest
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

3. Add the banana mixture to the flour mixture and fold with a spatula until just combined, taking care not to over mix. Scrape the batter into the loaf pan. Bake until dark golden brown and a tester inserted in the middle comes out clean, 50-60 minutes. 

4. Transfer to a wire rack and cool in the pan for 10 minutes. After 10 minutes, invert loaf from pan and cool completely. 

a win-win

 

We're back from a short trip to San Diego, where Mark attended a conference. He is in the midst of a busy travel month -- he recently realized he will have slept in his own bed only 8 nights over a period of 4 weeks-- and so we decided I should join him. San Diego does sunsets and seafood taco trucks incredibly well, but we were more than ready to get home after 5 days in a hotel.

 

[Tacos so stuffed they need to be attacked by fork.]

So, back to real life, where we have to tackle stuff big and small, like life-altering decisions and this ma po tofu recipe in my drafts folder. Staring with the small, let's talk about tofu. Have we ever talked about tofu? I love it. There are very few ways I don't enjoy tofu -- please don't serve me a grilled slab of tofu covered in barbecue sauce, yeesh -- but Sichuan ma po tofu is one of my favorites. Top 3, at least. I love it for the fiery/tangy/savory sauce, the way the sauce clings to the wobbly tofu, and the varying textures: wobbly tofu, velvety sauce, nubby meat, and crisp scallions and peppercorns. It might not be everyone's cup of tea, but we think it's insanely good.

I do enjoy the authentic version of ma po tofu at Sichuan restaurants, but I have to say that I prefer my  homemade version. Hubris! No, actually, it's the oil factor. It's not that fat scares me (as I type this, there are 4 different kinds of animal fat in our fridge) but ma po tofu is traditionally slicked with copious amounts of chile oil ... enough oil that the first night I tried ma po tofu was also the first night I experienced heartburn. So now I make it myself, dialing down the oil and giving myself the opportunity to eat it more often. Win-win, as they say. 

p.s. Happy Valentine's day, y'all! When I was planning our meals this week, I mistakenly thought tomorrow was also Mardi Gras so we'll be mixing Sazeracs and making shrimp étouffée.

Ma po tofu, adapted from Serious Eats

The hardest thing about making ma po tofu is finding the special ingredients at a Chinese market, but once you have everything in your pantry, the dish comes together quickly. Some notes on ingredients:

• About the chile oil: You can buy this, or make it by toasting 1/2 cup dried red Chinese peppers in a wok until lightly browned. Add 3/4 cup peanut oil and cook until oil is bubbling. Allow to cool and transfer to a glass jar. Keeps in the fridge for 2-3 months and use in stirfries or  mix with soy for a dipping sauce for dumplings, scallion pancakes, etc.
• About the tofu: I prefer the wobbly texture of silken tofu here, but use whatever you like. Silken tofu should be handled gently, or it will fall apart.
• About the peppercorns: This recipe has you fry 2 tablespoons of Sichuan peppercorns for two reasons: to flavor the oil and to garnish at the end. Unless you are a true chile head (in which case, hi kindred!), add to taste. Start with 2 teaspoons and pass the rest at the table.

For the sauce:

2 tablespoons chile bean paste (my jar is labeled "toban djan")

2 tablespoons Xiaoxing wine (I've substituted dry vermouth with good results)

1 tablespoon dark soy sauce

1/4 cup low-sodium chicken stock or water

For the cornstarch slurry:

2 teaspoons cornstarch

3 teaspoons cold water

For the rest:

2 tablespoons Sichuan peppercorns

1 tablespoon peanut oil

1 1/2 pounds silken tofu, cut into 1/2-inch cubes

1/4 pound ground pork or beef (80% fat, nothing too lean)

3 garlic cloves grated on a microplane grater

1 tablespoon fresh ginger grated on a microplane grater

2 tablespoons roasted chile oil (see note) 1/4 cup finely sliced scallion greens

1. You need steamed rice and a vegetable on the side, something like steamed gai lan or garlicky green beans. Start rice, at the very least, now. In a small bowl, combine the sauce ingredients. In a second bowl, combine the cornstarch slurry ingredients. Set aside.

2. Grate the garlic and ginger, and slice the scallions, if you haven't already.  

3. Heat a wok until hot. Add oil and then add 2 tablespoons Sichuan peppercorns. Cook until fragrant (a minute or two) and remove peppercorns to the bowl of a mortar/pestle, reserving the oil in the wok. Pound peppercorns until finely ground and set aside. 

4. Remove silken tofu from the package and transfer to a serving bowl. Use a knife to cube the tofu right in the bowl and microwave until steaming hot, about 4 minutes. (You could also steam or boil the tofu.) 

5. Without cleaning out the work, add the ground meat and fry, breaking up the meat and crisping it, 1-2 minutes. Add grated ginger and garlic and cook another 15 seconds. Add the contents of the bowl containing chile bean paste, etc. and continue to stir until mixture is boiling. Add half of cornstarch slurry and stir until sauce comes to a boil and is thickened and glossy. If you prefer sauce to be thicker, add the remaining cornstarch (I add the entire amount if I have watery tofu.) Stir in chile oil and simmer an additional minute or so.

5. Check your tofu to make sure it is steaming hot; microwave it longer and tip out any excess water if necessary. Pour contents of wok over tofu in serving bowl. Garnish with sliced scallions and ground peppercorns. See note above!

some housekeeping

I've had a bad day: I slept funny and my neck is sore, I spilled a cup of coffee in an unfortunate location, and I accidentally deleted our recipe index.

Don't panic, though, because everything is fine and the recipe index is back online. It's here.

I also created a travel page, mostly for our benefit, so we can access our travel recaps more easily.

Finally, we updated the cinnamon brioche recipe, with additional photos and a better icing. (Read: Mark decided that the icing would be superior with a little butter and cream.) Have I ever mentioned that the cinnamon brioche recipe is by far the most popular page on this blog? We get tons of hits from a Swedish baking message board. Thank you, Swedish bakers. You are awesome.

beef and root vegetable stew for a cold night

In the end, the centerpiece of our Burns night party was not haggis, but steak pie: rich beef and vegetable stew baked in a pastry crust. I'm not a big pot pie person, but Mark has fond memories of steak pie and chips at the neighborhood pub in when his family lived in Scotland. Who am I to argue with nostalgia, on a night dedicated to indulging in nostalgia?

This was a good one, as far as pot pies go. The stew was hearty and rich, with earthy vegetables and tender beef bobbing in an onion-and-ale-infused gravy. The crust was flaky and shot through with the unmistakable flavor of butter and lard. All good things. But for me? Maybe too much of a good thing. The pastry was so rich and distracting, it kind of overpowered the subtle flavors in the stew itself. We all enjoyed it (that pie was demolished, lest you think we all pushed it around with our forks or something) but as Mark and I agreed the next morning, we've probably filled our pot pie quota for, oh, 3 years at least.


However, as you can tell from my description above, I really liked the stew and would totally make it again. Sometimes beef stew can be stodgy, but this one -- with the sweet, golden rutabaga and carrot slipping into every other bite-- felt lighter than most. A long cooking in a low oven left the beef tender and the onion-and-ale infused gravy was at once sweet, savory and pleasantly bitter. (Not too bitter, just enough that you know the ale is there.) To serve, I'd swap pastry for crusty bread or a bed of mashed rutabaga. Or maybe egg noodles. If you are a pastry lover, I recommend just a top crust. Or, follow Mark's mom's lead; she tops steak pie with a small round of puff pastry.

Beef and root vegetable stew

This stew isn't at all hard to make, though it does take some time to build all the flavors. The most important thing here is to use well-marbled stew beef, like chuck. It's up to you whether you brown the beef: it's not entirely necessary, but I did it here because I like the deep brown color that the fond adds to the braising liquid. Feel free to think of this recipe as a rough guide: I used rutabaga, carrots, and chicken broth because that's what I had on hand. Beef broth would be fine, some other combination of root vegetables, different aromatics. The only caution I have is to watch the amount of ale you use; too much and the stew will taste bitter.

Finally, I'm not sure why, but stews taste significantly better after resting in the fridge, so make this a day or two ahead if you can. I noticed that the stew had much more gravy on day 1 than on day 2, so perhaps the meat and vegetables absorbed more liquid/flavor overnight.

2 tablespoons oil or lard
1 large onion, halved and roughly chopped (1/2 inch cubes)
1 1/2 pounds well-marbled stew beef, like chuck, patted dry, trimmed of excess fat and chopped into 1 inch chunks
3 1/2 tablespoons flour
1 cup ale (I used a Scottish ale called Belhaven)
1 1/2 cups chicken stock, preferably homemade
2 bay leaves
2 sprigs of thyme
2-3 big carrots, peeled and chopped into 2 inch chunks
1 rutabaga (tennis ball sized), peeled and chopped into 1 inch chunks
salt, pepper, a dash of soy sauce

Heat a large enameled cast iron French oven with lid over medium heat. When hot, add the oil and heat until hot and shimmering. Add half the meat to the casserole, without crowding, and brown both sides well. This creates lots of flavor (you'll see a fond begin to build up on the bottom of the pan) so don't rush the process, and don't crowd the meat or it will begin to steam instead of brown. When nicely browned, transfer meat to a bowl (leaving as much oil as possible) and repeat with the remaining meat.

Preheat the oven to 275F. Now, add the chopped onion to the French oven and cook over medium-high heat. Use a wooden spoon to scrape the fond on the bottom of the pan and continue cooking until onion is nicely browned. Lower the heat to medium and sprinkle the flour into the pan and cook. Stir continuously for 2 minutes to remove any flour taste. Stir in the ale, chicken stock, bay leaves, thyme and beef and bring everything to a simmer. Season the gravy to taste. I added 1 teaspoon salt and a dash of soy sauce at this point, though the amount you need will depend on whether you used a salted chicken stock or not.

Cover and set in the oven to cook. Check after 1 1/2 hours. My beef wasn't quite tender at this point, and I had to let it cook for another hour to get to the texture I wanted. I like the beef to be very tender, but it should keep its shape instead of completely collapsing or becoming stringy. When the beef is tender, adjust the seasoning with extra salt, if needed, and add the chunks of root vegetable. Return to the oven for 45-60 minutes, until tender but not mushy.

Note: if you want to bake this in pie form, I recommend just a top crust. Cool the stew (as in, put in the refrigerator). Roll out a savory crust recipe (we used this one, minus the sugar; it is delicious and flaky, but hard to work with). Add stew to a pie dish, without overfilling, and press the top crust on. Brush the top crust with an egg wash and bake in an oven at 425F for 45 minutes, until crust is nicely browned and filling is 180F or so.

on a totally different note

I'd be remiss if I neglected to mention that my inestimable dad's birthday is this week. Happy birthday, Dad! Among other things, he taught me to ride a bike, drive a car, make smart financial decisions, and to value learning for the fun of it. He pushed me harder in school than any Tiger Mom but also impressed upon me an appreciation for travel, adventure, and some of the finer things in life. I love you, Dad. We will definitely have a belated birthday celebration when you come to visit in a few weeks.

In other news, we are planning a little Burns supper celebration on Wednesday. Sadly, I've been forced to conclude that making our own haggis is not a food project we can pull off on short notice. I'm bummed; it was going to be so weird and fun! So, there will be no simmering of lungs, heart, or kidney. We won't be stuffing anything into an "ox bung." And there will be no sheep's windpipe trailing over the side of our stockpot so the impurities can drain out (!!!). I did investigate canned haggis, but that seemed grossly (literally) undeserving of Robert Burns' majestic Address to a Haggis. So, that's that. I know people are all inconsolably sad that I don't have a haggis recipe but, please, try to get over it. If nothing else, our Burns supper will have good whisky. Don't you worry about that.   

And now I'd like to abruptly segue to the recipe I actually want to talk about today, which is kung pao chicken. I am a total fool for kung pao/gong bao chicken, my favorite weeknight stirfry. The combination of succulent chicken and crunchy peanuts? The complex, flavorful sauce that tastes salty, sweet, spicy, tangy all at once? Oh man, it is good. When I mentioned that I want our recipe index to better reflect what we actually cook, this is one of the dishes I was thinking about. We make this at least twice a month, sometimes more. It is relatively quick -- the ingredient list and directions look long, but this takes no time at all -- and delicious. Forget take-out, seriously. And don't be afraid to try it even if you don't have all the ingredients. No Chinkiang vinegar? Try balsamic or regular distilled vinegar. No rice wine? Use dry vermouth, leftover white wine, or just omit it. No light or dark soy? Substitute regular soy. Can't find Sichuan peppercorns? Forget it. The more substitutions you make, the more of a departure it will be from the original dish, but you might like it.

Kung Pao Chicken

Fuchsia Dunlop's authentic recipe from her Sichuan cookbook/memoir was my starting point. A few changes: I prefer the juiciness of dark meat chicken to white meat, so I substitute thigh meat. I've reduced the amount of vinegar she calls for because I find it overpowering. I toast and grind my Sichuan peppercorns so their tingly flavor is evenly incorporated into the sauce. Finally, I decrease the corn starch just a bit. You need a relatively subtle-flavored vegetable dish or two to accompany: steamed gai lan is a favorite, as are wok-fried green beans with ginger. And, as I mentioned, this dish comes together quickly, so start a pot of rice before anything else.

3 chicken thighs, skinned, deboned, and trimmed of excess fat
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 inch section of ginger, minced
5 scallions, chopped into 1/2-inch lengths
10 dried red chiles (preferably Sichuanese)
2 tablespoons peanut oil
1-2 teaspoons whole Sichuan peppercorns
1/2 cup dry roasted peanuts

For marinade:
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon light soy sauce
1 teaspoon Shaoxing rice wine
1/2 teaspoon cornstarch

For sauce:
3 teaspoons sugar
1/2 teaspoon cornstarch
1 teaspoon dark soy sauce
1 teaspoon light soy sauce
1/2 teaspoon dark rice vinegar
1/2 teaspoon sesame oil
1 tablespoon chicken stock or water

Combine the sauce ingredients in a small bowl and set aside. In a bowl large enough to hold all the chicken, add chicken and marinade ingredients. Stir and set aside while you prepare the other ingredients.

If you haven't already, prep your garlic/ginger/scallions. Heat a wok over high heat. Before adding any oil, add the peanuts and toast until warm and fragrant. Remove to a bowl. Next, add the Sichuan peppercorns and toast 10-15 seconds, stirring and tossing so they don't burn. Remove peppercorns and grind to a coarse powder in a mortar and pestle. Set aside.

Add oil to the wok. When the oil is hot but not smoking, add the dried red chiles and stir-fry briefly until slightly browned and oil is fragrant. Take care not to burn the chiles; remove the wok from heat source if necessary. (Note: at this point, spice compounds in the air always make me cough. It's okay, just be mindful.) 

Quickly add the chicken with its marinade and wok-fry over high heat, stirring constantly. When the chicken is 70% done (the exterior will be brown but the inside may not be totally cooked through), add the ginger/garlic/scallions and continue to stir fry for a few minutes until they are fragrant. Stir the sauce and then add to the wok. Continue stirring and tossing until the sauce has become thick and glossy and the chicken is fully cooked. Transfer contents of the wok to a serving bowl. Mix in peanuts and the ground Sichuan peppercorns.