Passover Muffins April 6, 2010
Posted by whiskedoff in home cooking.Tags: baking, breakfast, holiday, passover, recipe
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With Passover 2010 ending in less than 24 hours, I just baked the best batch of chametz-free muffins of my life. Better late than never.
For years my mother and I have swapped recipes for ‘passover bagels’. They aren’t really bagels though – just eggy matzah mealy blobs that break the monotony of matzah brei and cheese-on-matzah breakfasts. Every year we make them, and every year we wonder how to make them better. Sometimes they’re too dry. Sometimes they’re too oily. Sometimes they just don’t rise. Regardless, smothered with butter and raspberry jam, or standing in for biscuits alongside scrambled eggs, they taste fine.
Why is this year different from all others?
I couldn’t find my Passover Bagel recipe. I couldn’t remember the proportions of oil to water. I didn’t have enough sugar. I misplaced my cookie sheet. So I improvised. I beat the eggs with an electric whisk. I added the matzah meal mixture – off heat – into the eggs (instead of the other way around), and I baked the batter in mini-muffin tins rather than poking my forefinger into each portion of batter to shape the bagel hole. Eureka!
These little gems were perfect served with a dollop of zesty fresh lemon curd (which is my mother-in-law’s recipe). Tomorrow’s breakfast: real bagels!
Passover Muffins
Ingredients:
- 2 cups boiling water
- 1/2 cup vegetable oil
- 3 tbl sugar
- 1 tsp salt
- 6 eggs (room temp)
- 2 cups fine matzah meal
Method
- Preheat oven to 190°C (375°F).
- Beat eggs well with an electric whisk or a stand mixer and let rest.
- In a saucepan over medium heat add boiling water, oil, sugar, and salt.
- Once boiling rapidly, add matzah meal one cup at a time. Stir to combine and remove from heat. The mixture should be pretty dry.
- Add matzah meal mixture into the eggs and combine with a wooden spoon until all the eggs are incorporated into the dough. Persist: this will happen eventually.
- Using two spoons, spoon the batter into a mini muffin tin, filling to the top.
- Bake 35-45 mins until golden brown.
Lemon Curd
Ingredients:
- Juice of 4 lemons
- Zest of 4 lemons
- 4 eggs beaten with a fork
- 8 ounces of sugar
- 4 ounces softened butter, cut into pieces
Method
- Combine all ingredients in a microwave-safe bowl.
- Put bowl into microwave on full power for 5 minutes, in 1 minute intervals. After each minute, remove the bowl and stir contents thoroughly (so the eggs don’t cook).
- After 5 minutes, the consistency should still be slightly runny – put a spoonfull on a saucer to check.
- Pour the mixture into glass lidded jars and refrigerate 6 hours or more.
Day 7: Homeward Bound February 6, 2010
Posted by whiskedoff in travel.Tags: breakfast, Sauze d'Oulx
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The week began and ended with a 6:30 am alarm for breakfast. We finished packing, washed up and were eating with the early bird Italians within the hour.
None of us could suppress a smile as we walked by two tables now emptied of the group of loud Americans. They had reportedly left for Cairo at 2 am. It was just us, several large Italian families, and the four Russian ladies. After ‘Buon Giorno’s all around Rich and I sat at our table and tucked into the usual offerings. Unprompted, the head waiter brought us a plate of sliced cheese, smiled knowingly and patted Rich on the back. On our day of departure we had finally become regulars!
By 8:30 am our taxi was waiting to wind us down the mountain to the main town of Oulx. The valley glistened under fresh snow. Within 15 mins, after overtaking a slothful truck, we were at the train station. All that remains now is a TGV to Paris, a bite to eat near Gare du Nord, and the Eurostar back home.
I wonder what we’ll have for lunch…
Day 6: Snowstorm, Clot Bourget and Sugo’s finale February 5, 2010
Posted by whiskedoff in Restaurants, Sauze d'Oulx, skiing, travel.Tags: Clot Bourget, mascarpone, pizza, Sugo's, tomato
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Our weather-forecasting Irish friend was right! We woke up today to falling snow.
At breakfast the obnoxious American singles group offered numerous explanations for avoiding the pistes but Rich and I headed out to the powder, happy to share the snow with the other brave souls. Are we really so brave? We were just intent on our final lunch at Clot Bourget.
The skiing was amazing – but really tough on the thighs! Visibility was an issue, although fewer people on the mountain meant less danger. We enjoyed some beautiful runs on Granpista, and then took the drag lift to piste #3000. By the time we reached the top, we could have been on the moon. Not a soul in sight and mounds of fresh powder like froth on a delicious cappuccino! Who needs off-piste when even the piste-markers are enveloped in snow?!
Soon, it was time for lunch. The manager at Clot Bourget greeted us warmly. The place was empty except for a British trio and four Italian ski club kids sipping Cokes. We ordered water, 2 pizzas and a salad. The tomato and rucola pizza was phenomenal: crisp crust, full-flavored tomatoes and the slight bitterness of the greens. Yum! With the salad and enormous margherita pizza we’d more than compensated for our energetic morning. One capuccino later and we were back on (and in!) the white.
My plan had been to work off lunch by carving down the mountain. After a few hard turns though, my thighs were burning. The snow was falling at 3 cm per hour and nobody was even dreaming of grooming the trails. My skis were deep in the snow. After a long run from the top I called it a day and waited for Rich to take his final farewell run. At 3:30 pm we headed down the hill together exhausted and exhilarated.
We returned our gear to the ski shop, chatted with our Irish friend, and walked around the newer part of town until the grocery store opened at 4pm. To pass the time we joined the happy hour revelers at the pub next door. One pint apiece was enough to banish our thoughts of picking up a bottle of wine to have in the room. We staggered back and got out the Scrabble…
Unbelievable! Yet another Deb win. An immediate rematch stemmed the tide; Rich eked out a narrow victory and left for dinner.
This time Sugo seated us downstairs. The place was packed and looking around the room we recognized diners we’d seen there on other nights. It seemed that everyone in Sauze d’Oulx wanted to end their holiday with a plate of Sugo’s pasta.
Papardelle with special wild boar sauce sat on every table but ours. We tucked into homemade spaghetti with mascarpone and tomatoes. Earlier we had decided to forgo wine – sensing end-of-vacation colds coming on – but we ended up sipping a civilized 1/4 litre carafe. And, of course, another portion of the best tiramisu Rich has ever eaten.
We walked back to the Grand Besson grinning from ear to ear. It was still snowing lightly; a lovely way to end a wonderful ski trip, and our first anniversary.
Day 5: Skiing into France February 4, 2010
Posted by whiskedoff in skiing, travel.Tags: Montgenevre, papardelle, sauces, stress-free spaghetti, Sugo's, truffle sauce
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One of the perks of our 6-day Via Lattea ski pass is a day’s access to the adjoining French resorts. Forget that it takes almost 3 hours to get there, there’s something exciting about waking up in Italy, skiing over to France for a few runs and returning to Italy for dinner. So, after 4 fun-filled days of Italian skiing, we decided that today would be the day for our French excursion.
Although we knew we’d need an early start, we decided after our somewhat late exquisite pasta dinner last night that we wouldn’t set an alarm.
Quick aside – according to Sugo, our waiter at Sugo’s, the customary amount of pasta per person is 70-75g. Sugo serves 150g. As we told him how delicious we’d found the meal, he explained that the dish we had chosen, ‘Spaghetti Stress-Free,’ is actually fairly stressful for the cook. The sheer simplicity of tomatoes and basil, leaves nowhere to conceal any deficiencies of flavor.
The stress I felt, after we emptied the pasta pot, was about whether I’d be able to zip up my ski pants tomorrow. Regardless, we ended the meal with one tiramisu, two spoons.
OK, where was I? Oh yes, today wasn’t going to be a day of fast runs and nail-biting turns, and we had no plans for a leisurely gourmet lunch. Rather, the goal was to make it back before nightfall. That meant hitting all the right lifts and following the right trails, all guided (or hindered depending on your perspective) by the trail map.
France was well worth the journey. Montgenèvre is one of the oldest ski resorts in France and its highest point stands at 2,680 meters. The soft snow-capped peaks look like an undulating sea. Although we were nervous about leaving enough time to trek back, we indulged in some beautiful runs there. And I went off-piste (well, just barely)!
The way back to Italy wasn’t well marked. All along we’ve loved that we can ski unhurriedly and stop to rest and chat along the way. But finding ourselves on a trail without markings, without a soul in sight, we almost began to panic. Were we going the right way? Were we headed deeper into France? Were we completely off-piste? What were the chances of avalanche? Did we have enough biscuits to last the night? How would anyone find us in the dark?
Fortunately, we found our way to the lift, hopped the cable car to Claviere, and made our way to a (very) late lunch in Sansicario. Our arrival coincided with the throngs coming inside for afternoon espressos and hot toddies. We were lucky to snag two seats at the end of a long wooden table. Richard opted for pasta (what else?) and my cheese panini hit the spot. We shared an excessively creamy hot chocolate and bid arrivederci for the day.
Forty-five minutes later we were stowing our gear in the ski shop and thinking about the half bottle of Montepulciano back in our room. As we left, our friendly Irish local gleefully gave us the weather forecast: 20-30 cm of snow in the next 24 hours!
We finished the wine in just enough time for me to rack up another convincing Scrabble victory. Then we headed over to Sugo’s to for supper. This time, we shared papardelle with porcini mushrooms and truffle sauce. We doubled up on salads but skipped the wine and dessert. Then we skipped back to the hotel and crawled into bed, exhausted after an amazing day. Bonne nuit!
Day 4: Fine dining on the slopes February 3, 2010
Posted by whiskedoff in Restaurants, skiing, travel.Tags: artichoke, gnocci, Il Capricorno, parmesan, Sauze d'Oulx, tortelloni
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In a gallant effort to be among the first on the slopes we left the hotel at 8:45 am, our pockets stuffed with the usual supply of purloined biscuits. We were skiing by 9:10 am.
We planned to spend most of the day in Sauze d’Oulx where skiing in the bowl feels like flying. First, though, we wanted to take one run down #72 in Sansicario. We took the lift to the top. It was bitter cold; blustery wind, swirls of snow lifted off the trail, and just plain painful. The female lift operator barked for people to “liberate the area” but no one moved. Too cold. We skied halfway down the mountain, looked at each other knowingly and scooted back to sunny Sauze.
Richard convinced me to take something ominously called the Granpista which turned out to be a beautiful, long slope with twists and turns – all in the sunshine. A great idea! Otherwise, we spent the day skiing off the very top of Sauze where we had many trails to ourselves. Last night over dinner we decided we’d have lunch at Clot Bourget again. We never made it.
Coming down from the top (I think it was piste #41) I was completely disoriented. It seemed like we were miles from anything familiar. My knees were killing me and I desperately needed the loo.
Strangely enough, around the next corner was a hotel and restaurant called Il Capricorno. We stopped to look at our map, and I noticed a Michelin sticker on the restaurant window. I’m not kidding. And at a long table on the terrace sat four fifty-something French couples drinking wine in the sun. How could we resist?
Well, when we saw the menu prices we should have been able to muster at least a little resistance. Not a chance. We took seats at a lovely corner table and I impulsively ordered two courses.
In retrospect, it was a wonderful thing. I have never seen Rich so excited by a salad (Parmesan, shaved artichoke and rocket): “Did they blanche these artichokes?! I can’t believe how amazing this tastes!!” After that we made short work of our plates of homemade gnocci and tortelloni stuffed with spinach and ricotta in a truffle sauce. Wow!
As we geared up for two more hours of great skiing I tried hard not to think about the fact that we’d just spent €65 on lunch. Gulp. The kicker is that we weren’t lost at all. Only 3 meters downhill from the restaurant was the main intersection of Clotes lifts and, (she writes sheepishly) the Clotes Bar which our friendly Irishman told us to visit for a hearty bowl of minestrone soup… Next time.
Day 3: Sestriere February 2, 2010
Posted by whiskedoff in Restaurants, skiing, travel.Tags: breakfast, coffee, Grand Besson, La Griglia, pizza, Sestriere
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Breakfast at the Hotel Grand Besson is a real treat.
If there weren’t serious skiing to be done, I would linger for hours. The spread includes delicious strong coffee with hot milk, fresh fruit juices, breads, yogurts, granola, scrambled eggs, boiled eggs, fruit, croissants, cake and two massive platters of prosciutto garnished with cheese.
Fortunately, the head waiter was kind enough to bring us a separate plate of cheese that hadn’t been mingling with the trayf!
We took a few lifts and the cable car over to Sestriere. It was colder there but the resort has more challenging runs. We skied hard for a few hours and took a short break to assess the hot chocolate scene at the base of one of the runs.
Lunch today wasn’t great. The food itself was fine – we had plates of pasta at a lodge near the bunny slope – but the toilets, bad news. A long winding set of cement stairs led to a narrow corridor with two doors. Each one contained a squat toilet. Definitely takes some getting used to, and I’d rather not.
For dinner we tried La Griglia, a pizzeria off the beaten track in the old part of town. The restaurant itself was down a few steps into a stone cave. The music was terrible but the portions huge and the service very friendly.
We each ordered pizzas and shared a bottle of the house red. To our surprise, it was fizzy. The waiter explained it was a popular local wine. Regardless, we ordered a bottle of Montepulciano and enjoyed our meal immensely. We weren’t alone. On a nearby table, two locals ordered three huge pizzas between them and washed them down with liter mugs of beer!
Day 2: Sansicario February 1, 2010
Posted by whiskedoff in Restaurants, skiing, travel.Tags: lunch, Sansicario, Sauze d'Oulx, Via Lattea
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Sauze d’Oulx is one of five resorts that comprise the Via Lattea (Milky Way), a ski area 70km west of Turin that played host to the 2006 Winter Olympics. All told, there are 400km of pistes and 88 lifts connecting the resorts.
Our 6-day lift pass allowed us to ski everywhere – and we did.
Today we explored Sansicario. The snow was powdery and after a few runs we found ourselves looking down the Olympic piste. Although we skied well yesterday, we aren’t ready for the Olympics. Instead, we consulted the map and headed off to piste #72, a wide, winding run (all the trails in the area are identified by numbers, with no apparent logic). It was empty. Closed? Nope, but it’s Monday and apparently the weekend Italian crowd has returned to work. 
With no lift lines we spent the morning skiing run after run. By 2 pm we were famished and set out looking for a Sansicario restaurant along the lines of Clot Bourget. Assuming the lunch crowd would have cleared (or at least be onto their espressos) we were looked forward to a relaxing meal.
Two chairlifts, a drag lift and a moving carpet later, we came to a log cabin called Martin’s Refuge. It was empty except for a few ski patrol guys outside tanning, and a family of four lingering over hot cocoa and cake. We were so hungry we barely read the menu. Rich had the day’s pasta – penne with tuna and tomatoes – and I opted for a steaming bowl of minestrone. Both were delicious, but not as good as our lunch yesterday.
The wind kicked up as we skied back over the top of the mountain and down a narrow piste to the Sauze side. The trail was marked as “intermediate” but winding along the ridge felt like we were skiing atop the Great Wall of China. On the left was the mountain and on the right was… nothing. A sheer drop, with no fence or barrier. The views were incredible, but I tried not to look.
Day 1: Hitting the slopes… and the pasta January 31, 2010
Posted by whiskedoff in Restaurants, Sauze d'Oulx, skiing, travel.Tags: Clot Bourget, Clotes, Italy, lunch, Sauze d'Oulx, Sugo's
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To say the scenery at Sauze d’Oulx is breathtaking is like saying the locals enjoy espresso. Glistening peaks and wooded slopes at every turn. Surrounded by so much natural beauty it’s hard to focus on skiing!
On Ali’s recommendation, we rented skis, boots and poles from the outfitter at the foot of the Clotes chairlift. The chatty Irishman working there had us sorted and out on the hill by 9:30 am. Rich and I started with some gentle runs to regain our ‘ski legs’ after a few years’ break from the sport. As we casually observed each others’ form we were relieved to see that our skills are complementary. Although we’ve been talking about how much we love it, this is our first time skiing together.
Enough about skiing.
We’d been in Italy less than 18 hours and already lunch was redefined. At 1:30 pm we skied past a wooden cabin surrounded by skis and poles. It wasn’t marked on the trail map but feeling peckish, and in need of the loo, we decided to add our gear to the pile and venture inside.
Opening the door into a one room bar-cafe with wooden tables and beamed ceilings, we sensed we were in luck. The place was heaving with raucous Italian families, friends, and groups of ski instructors in matching bright jackets. Everyone was talking loudly and laughing, and tucking into pizzas, plates of pasta, soup, paninis and other sandwiches, and beer and wine. We looked at each other and smiled: this is why we had chosen to ski in Italy.
We squeezed ourselves onto the end of a table and promptly over-ordered. A small vat of vegetable soup; a massive salad with corn, carrot, beets and a dollop of anchovy dip; and a mountain of penne with a simple tomato sauce. The bill came to a whopping €25. Clot Bourget is a true gem – a far cry from the overpriced tepid bowl of chili and burnt french fries that often passes for lunch at ski lodges in Vermont.
Barely able to leave the table, we nonetheless skied some amazing runs. The snow was beautiful, the sun was shining, and the mountain seemed nearly empty. This was going to be a great week.
Our first minor scrape occurred as I fell while attempting to board the aptly named “drag lift.” The attendant gallantly hoisted me to my feet. Determined to avoid further embarrassment I held on to the next tow rope for dear life.
By the time I schussed down to the bottom I had regained full confidence. In fact, at the next chairlift we gladly agreed to chaperone a charming 8-year-old ski student up the hill. Despite the lack of a common language, all seemed to be going well – we learned each others’ names and attempted small talk via sign language – until Rich began to raise the safety bar as we approached the exit. Horrified, and holding onto the chair as his ski tips tilted skyward, Jacopo screamed ‘No! No! No!’
How could we have known that this particular chairlift stops mid-mountain to admit more passengers? Our profuse apologies did little to soothe the little guy and we rode the rest of the way in guilty silence. The moment we reached the top Jacopo darted off to the safety of his friends. Probably to tell them all about the crazy English-speaking adults who had tried to bump him off.
After a final run we stowed our gear and explored the quaint old part of town. Cobbled streets and weathered wooden doors defined the neighborhood, with a handful of dimly lit wine bars and pizzerias and a small chapel adding to the charm. We returned to our hotel, washed up and wandered out for an early dinner.
We arrived at Sugo’s Spaghetti House at 6:45 and had no trouble finding a table. In no time the place was jammed with Italian tourists and other pasta fiends. Everything at Sugo’s is served family style. We shared a half liter of wine, a mixed salad and a huge bowl of homemade fettucini in a porcini and tomato sauce with a dash of cream. Tiramisu and pannacotta followed for dessert.
Walking back to the hotel looking forward to the next six days at Sauze d’Oulx, I realize I will need to do a lot of skiing to work off all this great food.
Off to Sauze d’Oulx January 30, 2010
Posted by whiskedoff in Restaurants, skiing, travel.Tags: paris, Sauze d'Oulx, skiing, vacation
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You know you’re living the dream when it feels like you’re interrupting your honeymoon to leave town on a trip to celebrate your anniversary.
I was fighting jet lag after 5 full days in NYC when Rich and I got up at 6:30 am for a nice breakfast in London before our train to Paris. From the kitchen window we could see a light dusting of snow covering the cars parked along our street. It was the perfect prelude – by evening we’d be in the Alps. We shared a Cambozola omelette, coffee and a container of yogurt that wouldn’t have lasted the week. Then it was off to St. Pancras to catch the 9 am Eurostar.
A few hours later we were on the RER D to the Gare de Lyon and found the perfect brasserie – a cozy spot in an unpretentious neighborhood. There’s nothing like starting a ski trip in Italy with a 3-course lunch in Paris! Pinch me now. We each had salad, a plate of grilled salmon with saffron sauce, basmati rice, haricots verts, and espresso and chocolate crepes for dessert.
With 30 mins to spare before our next train we picked up some brie, a baguette, and a 1/2 bottle of wine for the journey. You never know when hunger may strike. It turned out to be a good thing we packed the picnic. By the time we got to our hotel, exhausted by the day, we ate it all for dinner.
The ski train was lovely. We dozed, read, chatted with a British couple from Lincolnshire headed for Montgenèvre, and watched the countryside whiz by. Everyone was friendly. A few rows ahead of us an older French woman read aloud to a child, and she happened to be just another traveler, not his grandmère.
And what would a vacation be without a game of Scrabble? Thanks to two consecutive bingos (herring and toniest) I arrived in Italy as the reigning champ (with my highest-ever score of 410). An auspicious start.
A Visit to Stockholm November 9, 2009
Posted by whiskedoff in Restaurants, travel.Tags: cheesecake, eating, museum, salad, Stockholm, Swedish food
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The sun was just setting when our plane touched down… at 3pm! After a short train trip downtown we rolled our suitcase a quarter mile uphill in lightly falling snow to a boutique hotel in Östermalm. It was dark and cold outside but the lobby fireplace was lit and several clusters of 30- and 40-something “design types” gathered at tables and comfy sofas – laptops open – sipping beer and wine. A promising start to my mini-vacation from London.
Bundled up from head to toe, we wandered around the neighborhood reading menus. Forty minutes later we settled into a cozy Italian trattoria. Not quite my idea of a typical Swedish meal, but the place was buzzing with locals. We took it as a good sign that nearly every table was set with a carafe of red wine, a caprese salad for two, pedestals holding large thin crust pizzas and smiling diners. I stowed my thoughts of meatballs, gravlax, and herring and sat down to dinner.
Stockholm is a city of islands and museums. In just 24 hours I covered three islands and visited five museums. I barely scratched the surface.
My favorites were the The Vasa Museum which houses the world’s only remaining intact 17th century ship which sadly sank in its own harbor on its maiden voyage (whoops), and the National Museum with its galleries full of Scandinavian glass, textiles and furniture.
The two museums aren’t related in the least, but by visiting them in succession you come to appreciate the evolution of Swedish engineering from its early 1600s nautical design snafu to the IKEA of today.
Being a tourist requires plenty of refueling. Luckily, I arrived at the National Museum in time for lunch and could treat myself to the Atrium cafe‘s all-you-can-eat meatless Smörgåsbord.
I grabbed a seat at one of the large round communal tables and considered my options. The space, with its soaring limestone walls and glass ceiling, is the perfect setting for reflecting on art (and lunch). Table after table was laid out with salads, rice dishes, noodles, breads, cheeses, spreads and fish every which way. Traditional pickled herring, boiled potatoes, hard boiled eggs sat alongside surprises like curried cauliflower, Asian glass noodles, and shredded ginger and roasted beet salad. I filled my plate a few times. A slice of Ostkaka – Swedish cheesecake – and a very hot espresso was the perfect ending to the stereotypical meal.
Blame it on a food coma but I got completely lost on the way back to the hotel. Despite consulting a map every few blocks I took several wrong turns and ended up what felt like miles away. The combination of freezing fingers, aching feet, snow flurries and very long street names didn’t help. But wandering aimlessly has its merits. At one point I turned a corner onto a pedestrians-only street and found myself facing a huge open-air market. People were shopping for food and flowers in the dark!
