Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Be It Ever So Humble

So, Monday was semi-officially a snow day here in Washington DC. The government was on liberal leave, schools were closed, and although I work neither for the government nor a school, I decided that I was going to take a snow day. Well, a semi-snow day, anyway. I got up, saw the drifted banks outside, checked my Blackberry and saw that practically my entire team was going to be working from home, and I thought, what the hell, me too. This is notwithstanding the fact that I live two easy blocks from the metro station. But anyway.

The way my bleary eyes saw it, I had three options at this moment. I could (a) go back to sleep, (b) fire up my computer, dial in to the office network, and get workin', or (c) make up a batch of fresh Cocoa Caramel Turtle Treats for no obvious reason. While I waited for my coffee to finish brewing, I went with (c).

Cocoa Caramel Turtle Treats (aka "The Crack Bars")
Adapted from Cook's Country

Despite the name, these are not actually treats for turtles. They are Rice Krispie bars made awesome with the addition of chocolate, caramel, and toasted pecans.

Ingredients:
  • 3 tablespoons butter (although unsalted is standard in recipes, I use salted whenever possible because it's what I keep in my kitchen for eating)
  • 1 full bag marshmallows (10.5 oz bag of the small ones are best - if you only have the big ones, cut them into pieces first to make melting easier)
  • 1/2 cup semisweet chocolate chips
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt (but only if you used unsalted butter in the first place, like a dummy. Otherwise a mere additional pinch will do)
  • 1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 5 cups Cocoa Krispies
  • 1 cup pecans or rough pecan pieces
  • 15 Kraft classic caramels, cut into quarters - although you may want to leave a couple as halves for added chew. (Don't forget to take the wrappers off first, no matter how early in the morning it is.)
1. Put your pecan pieces on a small baking sheet and toast in a toaster oven for about five minutes. They should begin to smell deeply pecan-y, without smelling burn-y. If they're whole, chop them into nice craggy pieces.

2. Use some extra butter to grease up an 8x8 inch pan - glass, metal, ceramic, doesn't matter. Don't use butter spray here because this pan isn't getting cooked, so if you use spray it will sort of pool up. Do this before you start, because the process moves quick, and you'll need the pan before you know it.

3. In a large saucepan or pot, melt your 3 tablespoons of butter over medium-low heat. Once the butter is melted, dump in the marshmallows, the chocolate chips, and the salt. Stir constantly until all the marshmallows and chocolate have melted and formed a cohesive, evenly chocolate-colored mass. This will happen more quickly than you might expect, in a matter of minutes. Once it has all come together, add the vanilla and stir to incorporate.

4. Take the pan off the heat and dump in the Cocoa Krispies. Stir as deeply as you can, to coat all the cereal with the marshmallow mixture. After you've given it a few good stirs, add the toasted pecans and the caramel pieces. Continue to combine - I recommend a sturdy wooden spoon - until you have thoroughly incorporated everything. Depending on how hot your mixture still is, some of the smaller caramel pieces may begin to melt, too. (This is why it's nice to have a mix of small and large pieces - if the smaller ones melt, great, and you'll still have nice big chunks, too.)

5. Once your Treat mixture has come together, quickly turn it out into your buttered pan and smooth it into the corners. Then - and this is the hard part - let it cool completely! Then cut into squares and devour for breakfast, lunch, dessert, or all of the above.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Joining The Ranks

Does the world need yet another food blog? Well, I guess that depends on how much time you've got on your hands. Me, I have almost none. But I guess that's why I find it significant that every spare moment I do have, all I want to do is think about food.

I'm not a chef, I'm really only a novice cook, but I'm a pretty darn experienced eater. In a sense, of course, we all are, but I'm continually surprised to find that people around me consider me a "foodie." First of all, I find that word ridiculous - is someone who likes books a bookie? - but also, I never used to think that my obsession with food was anything unusual. Who doesn't like to eat? Isn't that like saying that you don't like to breathe? Or sleep? All of which are wonderful things?

Still, despite my trying to brush off the title, I can't help but notice that my co-workers and friends sometimes turn to me in restaurants to ask for an interpretation of phrases on the menu. I get asked for restaurant recommendations. Sometimes when I cook for people, I get asked for recipes. (My favorite thing to get asked for, of course, is seconds.)

The point of all this is not to say that I'm something truly unique or special. I don't think that I am. I have just come to realize that for a Washington DC-area professional whose career has nothing whatsoever to do with the kitchen, I ingest - and digest - not only an unusual quantity of food, but an unusual quantity of food knowledge. It really is my principal hobby, and to be honest, my singular obsession. And I want a place to talk about what I've learned, even if it's only to myself.

For those who care about source material, I do have a fairly extensive list of influences. I consider myself a student of multiple wonderful cooking teachers, none of whom, unfortunately, I have ever actually met - my dearest favorites being Alton Brown of The Food Network and Molly Wizenberg of Bon Appetit, also the author of the blog Orangette, which is clearly an inspiration (and I have linked it, above). I also love Dorie Greenspan, M.F.K. Fisher, Alice Waters, Gourmet, Michael Pollan, Cooking Light, Food & Wine, The New York Times on Wednesdays, Southern Living, Cook's Illustrated, Cook's Country, and any other publication by the fabulously fastidious Christopher Kimball... okay, this is getting embarassing. But the point is, I devour food writing, horrific pun intended. So to the extent that I can chime in, just a little - even if it is just to point out little tidbits of what these other luminaries have already made available, I think that this is worth my while.