The Best Ex's: Biscuits and Shortcake
For the third season of Home Made Simple, I've been asked to do a little ingredient Twister with my recipes. I've been asked to design the recipes so that one will evolve into the next. Simply reheating leftovers would be a cheat; we're talking about a a clever evolution of ingredients that two recipes share in common. A classic example is Sunday's roast becoming Tuesday's Shepherd Pie.
In a parallel universe, when thinking of leftovers, I can't help but think of my ex-boyfriends. Like food, I've enjoyed them, savored them, and then had to tear myself away from the table when another spoonful might make me ill. Then they sit in my fridge, a person I've come to know well, just growing old and losing flavor.
What to do? I can't reheat an old steakhouse T-bone, cooked to a perfect rare-med-rare, that's blasphemy. But one can always turn the steak into a killer steak salad, with blue cheese and candied walnuts, some grilled cherry tomatoes and purple onion rings. And even my dog can enjoy an occasional visit with the ex, while she's munching on that T-bone.
So you can imagine my delight, while hard at work in my Chicago rental kitchen, when I received a call from one of my very favorite ex's, saying that he'd be in town for a Yankees/Sox game. Oh joy! I haven't seen this particular paramour for a few years; I was thrilled to reconnect, and spent at least 45 minutes finding a just-threw-it-together outfit.
We met after the Yankees game, in a bar, with 20 of his closest work colleagues. I knew many of these folks from the old times. My ex works in construction, mostly city contract work, and his colleagues were straight out of old New York. Mostly Irish and Italian middle aged men, some older, alongside their 25-year old sons who were "learning the bidness" from pops. The leftovers of Dad's business would be feeding Juniors family.
My ex, as always, had charisma to spare. But the beauty of the leftover is that there are no longer any unanswered questions. I didn't wonder what it would be like to kiss this guy, date this guy, or what he'd be like in a relationship. I know the ins and outs of his apartment, what he likes to have in the fridge, and his doormen's names.
I'm glad to have been in that relationship, and glad to be done. Like the recipes I'm working on, I have no interest in eating the same food again. But this ex can be turned into something else (besides a leftover that harangues me as it ages in the fridge). I'm proud of what he's accomplished in the last few years, and he's proud of me; we're eager to help each other in any way he can. In fact, at one point during the evening, he connected me to a friend of a friends' friend, an agent who reps everyone's favorite Triscuit muncher. The phone calls were made, and contacts persued.
You can have a leftover that grows old and funky that needs to be thrown away. Or you can have an ex that you reshape into something more delicious than the first meal. Since the relationship can only get better in another form (let's face it, it's over), then why not try turning the base ingredient, caring about each other, into something else that's tastier.
Fresh Biscuits to Shortcake
We all know that buttermilk biscuits are best straight out of the oven, and second best reheated out of the oven. But there's only so many biscuits a person can eat; why not repurpose these puppies for shortcake? What could be simpler than layering strawberries and whipped cream upon and already perfect breakfast side. You tell me which one you like more.
Buttermilk Biscuits
Makes about 12 2-inch biscuits
2 cups AP flour, plus more for work surface
1 1/2 teapoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoons salt
1 1/4 sticks unsalted butter, very cold and cut into pieces, plus more for serving
1 cup buttermilk
Honey, for serving
1. Preheat oven to 425°. In a food processor, pulse together flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Add butter, and pulse until the largest pieces are the size of peas. Place flour mixture in large bowl.
2. Add buttermilk, and stir just until mixture comes together; the batter will be sticky. Transfer to lightly floured work surface; use floured fingers to pat dough to 1-inch thickness. Use a 2-inch round biscuit cutter or cookie cutter to cut biscuits as close together as possible to minimize scraps. Gather scraps together once, pat together and flatten, and cut out.
3. Transfer biscuits to baking sheet; bake until lightly browned, 16 to 18 minutes. Remove from oven; cool in pan on a wire rack. Serve warm with butter and honey.
Strawberry Shortcake
Serves 6
2 cups strawberries ('tis the season!), sliced
1-2 teaspoons sugar, as needed
2 teaspoons fresh mint, or 1 teaspoon fresh tarragon
6 buttermilk biscuits
1 cup whipping cream, whipped
1. Place strawberries in a medium bowl. Taste one for sweetness; if needed, add sugar. Add mint or tarragon, and stir. Let sit at leat 1 hour, or refrigerated for up to 2 days.
2. Heat the biscuits in a 200F oven for 10 minutes. Slice open widthwise. Divide strawberries among biscuit bottoms, and top with whipped cream. Cover shortcakes with top, and garnish with additional strawberries, as desired. Serve and enjoy.
In a parallel universe, when thinking of leftovers, I can't help but think of my ex-boyfriends. Like food, I've enjoyed them, savored them, and then had to tear myself away from the table when another spoonful might make me ill. Then they sit in my fridge, a person I've come to know well, just growing old and losing flavor.
What to do? I can't reheat an old steakhouse T-bone, cooked to a perfect rare-med-rare, that's blasphemy. But one can always turn the steak into a killer steak salad, with blue cheese and candied walnuts, some grilled cherry tomatoes and purple onion rings. And even my dog can enjoy an occasional visit with the ex, while she's munching on that T-bone.
So you can imagine my delight, while hard at work in my Chicago rental kitchen, when I received a call from one of my very favorite ex's, saying that he'd be in town for a Yankees/Sox game. Oh joy! I haven't seen this particular paramour for a few years; I was thrilled to reconnect, and spent at least 45 minutes finding a just-threw-it-together outfit.
We met after the Yankees game, in a bar, with 20 of his closest work colleagues. I knew many of these folks from the old times. My ex works in construction, mostly city contract work, and his colleagues were straight out of old New York. Mostly Irish and Italian middle aged men, some older, alongside their 25-year old sons who were "learning the bidness" from pops. The leftovers of Dad's business would be feeding Juniors family.
My ex, as always, had charisma to spare. But the beauty of the leftover is that there are no longer any unanswered questions. I didn't wonder what it would be like to kiss this guy, date this guy, or what he'd be like in a relationship. I know the ins and outs of his apartment, what he likes to have in the fridge, and his doormen's names.
I'm glad to have been in that relationship, and glad to be done. Like the recipes I'm working on, I have no interest in eating the same food again. But this ex can be turned into something else (besides a leftover that harangues me as it ages in the fridge). I'm proud of what he's accomplished in the last few years, and he's proud of me; we're eager to help each other in any way he can. In fact, at one point during the evening, he connected me to a friend of a friends' friend, an agent who reps everyone's favorite Triscuit muncher. The phone calls were made, and contacts persued.
You can have a leftover that grows old and funky that needs to be thrown away. Or you can have an ex that you reshape into something more delicious than the first meal. Since the relationship can only get better in another form (let's face it, it's over), then why not try turning the base ingredient, caring about each other, into something else that's tastier.
Fresh Biscuits to Shortcake
We all know that buttermilk biscuits are best straight out of the oven, and second best reheated out of the oven. But there's only so many biscuits a person can eat; why not repurpose these puppies for shortcake? What could be simpler than layering strawberries and whipped cream upon and already perfect breakfast side. You tell me which one you like more.
Buttermilk Biscuits
Makes about 12 2-inch biscuits
2 cups AP flour, plus more for work surface
1 1/2 teapoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoons salt
1 1/4 sticks unsalted butter, very cold and cut into pieces, plus more for serving
1 cup buttermilk
Honey, for serving
1. Preheat oven to 425°. In a food processor, pulse together flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Add butter, and pulse until the largest pieces are the size of peas. Place flour mixture in large bowl.
2. Add buttermilk, and stir just until mixture comes together; the batter will be sticky. Transfer to lightly floured work surface; use floured fingers to pat dough to 1-inch thickness. Use a 2-inch round biscuit cutter or cookie cutter to cut biscuits as close together as possible to minimize scraps. Gather scraps together once, pat together and flatten, and cut out.
3. Transfer biscuits to baking sheet; bake until lightly browned, 16 to 18 minutes. Remove from oven; cool in pan on a wire rack. Serve warm with butter and honey.
Strawberry Shortcake
Serves 6
2 cups strawberries ('tis the season!), sliced
1-2 teaspoons sugar, as needed
2 teaspoons fresh mint, or 1 teaspoon fresh tarragon
6 buttermilk biscuits
1 cup whipping cream, whipped
1. Place strawberries in a medium bowl. Taste one for sweetness; if needed, add sugar. Add mint or tarragon, and stir. Let sit at leat 1 hour, or refrigerated for up to 2 days.
2. Heat the biscuits in a 200F oven for 10 minutes. Slice open widthwise. Divide strawberries among biscuit bottoms, and top with whipped cream. Cover shortcakes with top, and garnish with additional strawberries, as desired. Serve and enjoy.
posted by Allison Fishman Task at 9:14 AM
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