What's for pudding?

Oh my, I'm truly smitten by Smitten Kitchen. Some worthwhile wonder always wanders through there.

The recent addition to my culinary repertoire is her chocolate budino recipe. Honestly, there's no sense in copying it here. What I will give you is my ingredient list, with weights for pretty much everything:

• 5 large egg yolks
• 75g granulated sugar
• 2 cups (472g) heavy cream
• 232g Scharffen Berger 70% cacao (8 oz)
• 12g (2 tsp) unsalted butter
• 1/2 tsp grey salt
• tsp espresso powder
• 1/4 tsp vanilla
• 2 tsp Chambord

If you're among the kitchen cowards like me who are terrified of phrases like "coats back of spoon", know that I did a little research. The temp I raise the custard mixture to is 160˚F. I pulled it immediately and dumped it over the chocolate.

I use a paring knife and shave the chocolate from the block so it melts well.

The cups took the better part of 2 hours to set, so that's your lead time for the recipe.

Smitten Kitchen suggests a less in your face version, with a semi sweet chocolate rating in the 60% range and without the espresso powder boost. I actually gave it most of a tbsp of Chambord but it didn't come through. Maybe owing to the bumped chocolate. Next time, more!

Poured this into all of our espresso cups, 10 total, sizes vary. Whipped cream required. Raspberry and mint garnish optional.

Enjoy!

Travel tips for London and Cambridge

Some friends recently traveled to London and surveyed friends for ideas. This was my list.

You have to do tea. I suggest doing it more than once. Harrod's or Fortnum & Mason, then the other. If Prince Charles or the Queen is willing to have you over, you could go a third round. Two words for you: clotted cream.

Shakespeare was fun. Make time for whatever is playing in that teeny little theatre.

The Sky Garden requires careful planning but is worth it.

Those Brits make excellent (and a slightly different) greeting cards. I think we dropped in on a chain called Paperchase (near the Sky Garden). [ed. note: they went the way of most stationary stores but you should still keep an eye out for greeting cards]

A visit to Greenwich is cool. Allow a fair bit of time for the observatory. Wouldn’t hurt you to have read Dava Sobel’s Longitude.

Punting in Cambridge, but not Oxford, where they don’t do it right. The Eagle Pub in Cambridge where Watson & Crick drew DNA helixes on napkins. The Eagle and Child in Oxford, where Tolkien and Lewis drank. Who had the greater flight of fancy?

Pints and pies. Darts if you can find it. Rarer in London these days. I think they’re adopting the Irish perspective, which, according to my friend from Cork is that, “it gets in the way of the drinking.”

The British Museum! If you can stay near there, we'd suggest dropping in on your way out each day for one (or maybe two) things.

Evensong service at Westminster Abbey. They're very fussy. St Paul's is a bit more relaxed. But Westminster is better.

If you are at all interested in WWII, the Churchill War Rooms are fantastic. You may not realize just how interested you actually are...

If you like Indian food, London is the place for you. Dishoom is the Indian place. Means "mojo" in Hindi. You'll want to get the Viceroy Old Fashioned. The black lentil dish was amazing. Nothing was bad, so go with your favorites. [ed. note: heard it's fallen off since we were there]

The Grand Imperial London has hands down the best presentation of Peking Duck we've ever had. It's probably the traditional way, but it had never been done for me. [ed. note: heard it closed during COVID]

Out front of King's Cross station they sometimes have a market. Get a snack (or two). See if The Scottish Kitchen is there, and if it is, get the smoked clava and thank me later. [ed. note: Jen tells me the Scottish Kitchen doesn't do a stand any more. Still. There are lots of places to grab snacks there...]

Beef Stew

When the Patriots are playing in the snow and a Nor'easter is blowing into to town and you finally capitulate to winter and turn on the heat, it's time to do some serious thinkin' about beef stew. It's always good, but a bit of a chore browning all that beef. Now, thanks to America's Test Kitchen, it's a little easier. This is an adaptation of their Guinness Beef Stew recipe, with some commentary.

Ingredients, in order of appearance:

• 3-4 lbs chuck eye roast
• 2 tblsp olive oil
• 2 good sized yellow onions
• rib of celery
• 4 garlic cloves
• 1-2 tblsp tomato paste
• 1/4 cup AP flour
• 1 cup chicken broth
• 3 cups apple cider
• 1 lg russet potato
• fresh thyme
• 1 1/2 lbs yukon gold potatoes
• 1 lb carrots

Don't buy so-called "stew meat". Get a good chuck roast and cut it up into 1 1/2 inch chunks yourself. It's like, what, two minutes? You can trim some fat but don't go crazy. It'll render given time. This makes sure you're chuck, which is what you want for stew, and not--as Mr. Kimball believes--floor scraps.

Dice your onions and celery and then fry them, with the barest dash of salt, until they are deep, deep brown. Julie Sahni discusses this technique at length, probably in most of her Indian cookbooks. Essentially, it's a long process (20 minutes) with increasing focus on stirring to keep them from burning. I think of this technique as the Indian equivalent of making a roux. She calls it, I think, "brown-frying" and it's really not as hard as a roux if you pay attention.

At the very end of that process, add the garlic and tomato paste and begin salting. Get that nice rust color going. Then add the flour. The pot is going to look very dry and crusty and wrong, but stir stir stir. When you just can't stand how wrong it looks, gradually add the chicken stock, stirring and deglazing the pan. Once the lumps are out, add the cider, the beef and a diced russet potato.

I like a nice thick gravy in my beef stew. I used to cut my potatoes into wedges, so some of the edge would go into the sauce, but now I just sacrifice one whole potato to that task. Dice that puppy into 1/4" or less and a couple of hours later that starchy goodness will be liquid. Add a bundle of three-four sprigs of fresh thyme, because stews need thyme.

Here's the real ATK trick: pop that uncovered pot into a 325˚F oven for at least 3.5 hours. The meat that's exposed will brown in the oven, and the subsequent stirs while cooking will get that flavor into the sauce.

As for the veggies, ATK wants you to add them the last hour of cooking. Twice through with this variation, and I think that's a little al dente for me. Next time, I'll add them after the first hour. I've also found that an extra 30-45 minutes gets it to the right place for me in terms of texture. But it's a great trick, since it gets rid of what for me is at least an hour of prep.

Seasoning is a very personal thing. I tend to salt very lightly in the beginning, but continually through the process, so I don't overdo it. I usually dose the pepper once, with the meat. Pepper is the only think that I'm liberal with...

Did this Sunday without cider and it was still good. I did replace with homemade chicken broth, though. Sometimes I wonder what the difference would be if I browned the onions in bacon drippings... 

Traveling Notes

Some random tips garnered from my travels:

• If you have one of those hiker's headlamps, pack it in your carry-on! They are invaluable on overnight flights when they flight attendants turn down the lights and occasionally while poking through an unfamiliar room late at night.
• Wash clothes are rare in some parts. (Italy in particular...) Pack your own in a ziplock bag.
• Field Notes journals are great for scribbling notes, phone numbers, addresses and hours, recipes--just about anything. I find one 48 page note is good for a few weeks.
• The Italian Mosquito, well that's an entire post unto itself.

As always, your mileage may vary...

Hot Chocolate

Without a doubt the best memory of my grandma is coming in late at night around the holidays after a long trip from somewhere. We always seemed to be coming from far away. Didn't matter how late, though. She'd put a pot of milk on the (cast iron coal burning) stove, pull down the sugar canister and the Hershey's cocoa and make the very best hot chocolate that I've ever had. I don't remember the exact details but I make a pretty good cup myself.

Of course, I have to use fancy chocolate and all that, because I don't have that grandma magic...

My recipe:

• Coal burning cast iron stove (optional, but you'll need your own magic)
• One cup whole milk. (c'mon, don't fool around here...)
• 2 tblsp sugar
• 4 tblsp Ghiardelli cocoa
• 1 tsp vanilla

Put the milk on the stove on medium heat, then add the sugar and the cocoa. Whisk vigorously to dissolve the cocoa and keep it from sticking to the sides. You can take a short break from this to fill your mug with hot tap water. Once the hot cocoa has reached the desired temperature, cut the heat, dump the tap water and then add the vanilla to the mug. Pour the hot cocoa into the mug, give it a quick whisk and enjoy.

If I have some in the fridge, I'll often pour a "shot" of half and half or heavy cream in with the milk. Another common variation is the addition of a 1/8 to 1/4 tsp cayenne pepper.

Give it a whirl and then you can play with substitutions, like all half and half instead of the milk, more or less cocoa, etc.

Santa's Checkride

[This story has probably been around longer than I'm alive. I did do a little editing, but it's certainly not original. Wish I knew exactly who to credit.]

Pilots have to be certified by the Federal Aviation Administration, which initially involves a lot of school and practice and--finally--a ride with an examiner who distracts the potential pilot with a lot of questions while they're flying. The examiner also makes the pilot do things like induce a stall and then get out of it. Pretty much anything the examiner wants to test is fair game. He could, if he wanted, just reach over and turn off the engine. Once a pilot has his/her certificate, they get to be reexamined every so often.

Santa Claus, like all pilots, gets regular visits from the Federal Aviation Administration, and it was shortly before Christmas when the FAA examiner was scheduled to arrive. In preparation, Santa had the elves wash the sled and bathe all the reindeer. Santa got his logbook out and made sure all his paperwork was in order.

The examiner arrived. He walked around the sled slowly, paying attention to every detail. He carefully checked the reindeer harnesses, the landing gear, and Rudolf's nose. He painstakingly reviewed Santa's weight and balance calculations for sled's enormous payload.

Finally, they were ready for the checkride.

Santa got in and fastened his seatbelt and shoulder harness and checked the compass. Then the examiner hopped in carrying, to Santa's surprise, a shotgun. Santa's brow furrowed and he turned his head askew.

"What's that for?"

The examiner winked.

"I'm not supposed to tell you this, but you're gonna lose an engine on takeoff."

Donuts and Pickled Beets

Back in 1984, I worked with this Swedish expatriate who drove a shiny new Cadillac. If you asked him, Sven would tell you that one thing he loved about America was the big honkin' cars. Then he'd offer you a donut, because he always picked up a box for the group on his way in.

It was kind of funny preference for cars, because Sven was barely five foot, barrel shaped and balding with a pasty complexion. Being from Sweden, he'd only own something with rear wheel drive.

"Safer," he'd tell you. "If you break the wheels free that move the

car, you can still steer."

I took the bus to work on a wicked snow day. The place was quiet as a mouse, so I thought I was alone. But when I checked on some equipment in a back room that overlooked the parking lot, I had to smile.

There were only two tire tracks coming in the entrance, but it looked like 20 crazy teenagers had been out there doing donuts. Out of all that were two tire tracks that led right up to Sven's Caddy.

I wandered back to where Sven sat and waited until he looked up.

"Nice donuts," I said.

His whole head turned red as pickled beets.