SPICY PEANUT SAUCE

The Background.

I love cooked broccoli and asparagus, but generally prefer the rest of my vegetables disguised. I am constantly looking for ways to hide vegetables from my tastebuds; I camouflage them in casseroles, smuggle them into soups, and bury them into pasta dishes. In other words,  I treat myself as a kid. And when it comes to kids, one of the best ways to mask foods is peanut butter. And this recipe does just that.

The sole intention behind this recipe is to increase my vegetable intake... of making raw veggies less dull (for those times I just can't eat one more vegetable).This recipe is based on the sauce of a regularly served pasta dish in our house (which also disguises multiple veggies, I might add). This recipe can be made and stored in the fridge to use as a dip for raw veggies, or it can be used as a (thick) dressing. It is surprisingly delightful over shredded cabbage and topped with toasted sesame seeds. Add matchbook carrots and a few golden raisins to the cabbage salad (tossed with this recipe) for an especially delicious snack or side dish.

The Story.

Several years ago Heather and I decided we needed more fresh produce in our diet.

So we went to Dairy Queen.

Over banana cream pie Blizzards with peanut butter cups (you have to try this) Heather and I made a plan to make veggie boxes. At the grocery store we purchased additional veggies that were not designated to the meals of the week. Before putting them away at home, we cleaned, cut, and  placed an assortment (e.g. sugar snap peas, green beans, cucumbers) in single serving plastic boxes for future snacks or lunches. I also shred a head of cabbage and keep it for making quick and easy crisp salads with spicy peanut sauce. This wasn't  genius, but it did make it more convenient to eat vegetables for a snack.

The goal was to continue doing this every week.

Veggie Boxes

Here is the excuse: it has been a hard winter in Ohio, made even harder by our having recently moved to a small community with an insufficient grocery store. When we moved to Wooster it was the peak of strawberry season, and our first grocery list had ingredients for our favorite summer meal of strawberry shortcake. Unfortunately the (only) local grocery store had two options: we could have berries from California that were white or local berries that were shrunken and wrinkled from dehydration. We began to dread winter grocery shopping, knowing that the winter produce was nothing to look forward to.

In the beginning of winter of 2011 our friends Adam and Scott introduced us to Cleveland's Westside Market - a gorgeous display of fresh and beautiful whole foods. It is a food lovers playground and makes me warm and fuzzy even thinking about it. Unfortunately the winter roads (and my 2000 two door Civic)  kept me from feeling confident to drive the hour and 15 minutes to do the weekly grocery shopping there. And even with clear roads, celery, cauliflower, and carrots were just too boring to think about after the white (aka boring) winter. We tried to vary the raw veggies with fat free ranch or low calorie blue cheese dressing, but it made the vegetables taste like chemicals (which is much worse than tasting like vegetables). Using real full fat dips would defeat the original purpose of eating veggies. We were at an impasse. Needless to say, the veggie boxes were ditched based upon poor produce and a general boredom of raw vegetables.

In other words this winter resulted in carb overload and a noticeable deficiency of wholesome produce in our diets. It is time to revisit the veggie boxes...and to address the vegetable-y flavor of those vegetables without negating the healthy benefits of eating them.

The Recipe.

Ingredients:
½ cup Peanut Butter
4 Tbs Soy Sauce
3 Tbs Rice Or Distilled White Vinegar
1 Tbs Water
1 tsp Sugar
2 tsp Seasame Oil
¾ tsp Red Pepper Flakes

Directions:
Combine all ingredients in blender; mix until smooth. Use as a dip

The Process.

I kept messing with the water. I wanted it to be thick enough for dipping but thin enough to use for a salad dressing. In the past I made it with a half cup of water (way too much). In the end I decided that I would need to make different versions for a dip versus a salad dressing; This was disappointing to me. For a dressing I would add 2 more tablespoons (for a total of 3T).

In the past I have added 1/2 inch of grated fresh ginger and it enhances the flavor layer, but I was not sure how long this batch was going to be in the house; I didn't want it to go bad. I have no idea how long it takes ginger to go bad - it may be never for all I know! In the end I should have taken the ginger out of the freezer and added it.

The Future.

I like it to have more of a kick (and more layers of flavor) and wasn't especially happy with the result, to be honest. I would serve this to guests, and it certainly makes raw vegetables more desirable. To be clear: it is worth making again.

I would like to think about adding garlic for immediate serving.

I would also like to try changing the temperature up and adding some chopped peanuts for a hot dressing for cabbage (reminiscent of the salad at Cosi Thai in State College).

MENNONITE LOVE

The Background.

 

Growing up, my babysitter was a Mennonite pastor's wife who lived across the street. "Aunt Martha" taught me all sorts of things about life, love, and spirituality. She also taught me lessons about food. The first lesson I learned  was "waste not, want not" (otherwise known as "overeat or feel guilty about it" or "overeat AND feel guilty about it").

Every morning Aunt Martha would cross the street to my house to be there when I woke up, walk me to school, and greet when I walked back to her house after school. Often the smell of freshly baked bread met me at the door before she did. She would cut off a steaming hunk of bread, slather it with butter, and serve it to me on an insignificant napkin with pale flowers at the kitchen table. The bread was rich and luxurious, making the napkin look embarrassingly humble to hold such a gift.

The smell of homemade bread will always feel like 7 years old to me.

Aunt Martha was a master baker, as are all the Mennonite Pastor's wives I know. Her bread was velvety smooth inside, the crust was perfectly golden, and the heat from the bread somehow managed to warm not only my hands, but also my heart. I realize that I am forcefully treading in clichés, yet I cannot find a way to otherwise express homemade bread. I will leave that to poet Sally Croft.

This is the second lesson that Aunt Martha taught me: there is little that expresses love more unselfishly than homemade bread. Bread takes patience. It takes diligence. It takes careful planning and timing. The time put into bread is worth far more than the cost of the ingredients. No one bakes bread for an enemy; it takes too long.

The Story.

I share the recipe that I used for this bread below, but the recipe is far more precious if you know the story of how I acquired it. Aunt Martha babysat me from the time I was 4 months old until I was 8. I spent a lot of time with Aunt Martha and Uncle Roy, and through the years she would contact me to let me know that she had found a recoding of me singing at age 4, or a picture of me in the Raggedy Ann Halloween costume she made me. Although we grew apart as I grew more self-involved, I did rekinkle our relationship while I was in college. 


Unannounced, I would stop by her house, knock on the side door, and say a brief hello when I was in town for holidays. She and Uncle Roy would make a lot of fuss about my being in college and about how their "little Elizabeth" was growing up to be so proper. Their pride would swell so much that I could feel their hearts take up more space in the room.

I didn't think that anyone was home the last time that I stopped by the Mennonite house I grew up in. I knocked, then waited a few minutes, knowing that they were slow to move their aging limbs. Just as I turned to leave,  Aunt Martha opened the door, letting the familiar  smell of whole wheat bread greet me.

"Elizabeth! Oh what a surprise! Do come in" she gushed, then scampered off in the way aging women do. "Roy! Look who has come!" she said then cleared the kitchen table of the two letters that had been lying open. She carefully placed each letter inside of an envelope, nestled each in a separate shoe box, then slid the boxes under the sofa.

Martha and Roy were long time lovers. I was fortunate to be at their 60th wedding anniversary, and they were married for almost 68 years. When they met, Roy was actually Martha's Youth Pastor;  their relationship was kept quiet because of this (and their significant age difference). When Roy went away to seminary the two wrote love letters to each other every week as they patiently waited for Martha to come of age. Those letters are kept in shoeboxes under their loveseat in the order in which they were written.

Aunt Martha carved off a thick slice of whole wheat bread, placed it on a floral napkin for me and explained. When I knocked on their door, Martha and Roy were reading their daily letters. Every day they each read one letter to each other to keep their love young.

When I visited Aunt Martha a few years ago she told me that Uncle Roy grew unable to read. Daily she read both letters to him.

The Recipe.

This is Aunt Martha's Honey Whole Wheat Bread recipe. In true Mennonite form, one batch makes 4 loaves.

Pre-baked

Mix with mixer:

• 4 cups Warm Water (110 Degrees F/45 Degrees C)
• 2 Tbs Sugar
• 2 Tbs Salt
• 3 Tbs Yeast
• 2 cups Whole Wheat Flour
• 2 cups White Or Unbleached Flour

Let proof for 1 hour

Add:

• ½ cup Honey
• ½ cup Brown Sugar
• 1 cup Oil
• ½ cup Warm Water (110 Degrees F/45 Degrees C)
• 5 cups Whole Wheat Flour
• 3 cups White Or Unbleached Flour

Knead 10 minutes. If using a KitchenAid,  separate the dough in half before adding the whole wheat flour, and then add white flour as needed to dough to make sticky but manageable to handle.

Divide into four balls, forming a spiral loaf out of each. Place each in greased loaf pan, cover with a wet cloth, and place in pan with a bowl of hot water and the oven lamp on.

Let rise until double (30 min to an hour).

Punch down each loaf and form loaf again. Place in greased loaf pan, cover with a wet cloth, and place in pan with a bowl of hot water and the oven lamp on.

Let rise until double (around an hour).

Turn oven on to 400 degrees.

REDUCE temperature to 325 degrees and bake for 30 minutes.

*can sprinkle dough with cinnamon and sugar (and raisins) like cinnamon rolls for cinnamon bread. This is a great way to mix up the four loaves!

** can rub butter on the top of the loaves when they come out of the oven for a butter crust that stays moist and is glossy/pretty.

Butter makes it pretty! 

The Process. 

I proofed the water, yeast, and sugar before adding them to the rest of the initial grouping of ingredients. I also found that the bread rapidly doubled in its rises. This may be due to my extra proofing, or it could be simply due to chemistry; I am too much of a novice to make any assumptions. I ended up having to divide the dough into two "batches" to prevent my poor Kitchenaid from overflowing, and when I did so, I ended up with two very different consistencies of dough (I also ended up with a hot Kitchenaid). Both batches were soft and smooth (as much as whole wheat can be) but one was certainly more dense. I was convinced that I had ruined two loaves from the heavy dough. I was further convinced that only three would be pretty loaves since I am not Mennonite (I only had three loaf pans).

I soldiered on, deciding that no one needed four loaves of plain whole wheat bread, and made two of them cinnamon (one with raisins). All four of them rose beautifully (both times) and even went above and beyond the desirable rise. All of the tops of the loaves cracked from over-rising.

I baked all four loaves at the wrong temperature. The recipe was handwritten and I missed the "turn oven down to 350 degrees" part and baked the first two loaves at 400 degrees for 29 minutes. The aroma wrapped around the hallway and went up the stairway to let me know that it was done...but by then it was too late. Had I been on the same floor I would have known, but  the time that it took for the scent to make it up the stairs made the difference. The second two loaves were baked at 25 minutes and were a prettier shade. Unfortunately all four of them were a bit dry in the crust, which is only fair since I baked them 50 degrees higher than I should have. It was only in typing out the recipe for this blog that I realized that I was supposed to turn the temperature down.

Surprising to me, all four loaves had similar denseness despite the initial discrepancies in the dough.

The middle swirl was pretty in the raisin bread and undetectable in the plain loaves...just how I wanted them to be. There were some gaps between the swirls of cinnamon raisin (see top picture) but the plain loaves had beautiful uniformity throughout.

I didn't have enough bread pans! 

The Future.

I would like to try and revise the recipe to accomodate 2 loaves instead of 4. This would provide one whole wheat loaf and another with the cinnamon raisin swirl. Although our neighbors and the people at church enjoy the handouts, the town of Wooster is small, and I will eventually run out of people to give bread to.

My rising time needs to be reduced. I have indicated the times I would like to try in the recipe above. The original recipe simply stated "let rise until double" which is not descriptive enough for an amateur bread baker like me.

I would butter the tops of all loaves as they come out of the oven. It keeps the crust from hardening over the days while making the loaf more pleasing to the eye.

I have read that more moistness on the bread before rolling it up into the loaf will keep the holes from forming in bread. Thus, I will try placing a bit more water over the cinnamon sugar/raisin mixture. Furthermore, I will put more pressure on loaf roll to try and keep the air pockets out.