awesome!!!! the icicles are beautiful. I am jealous.
Sally did the icicles. I'm gradually trying to shift more and more of it onto them -- I'm still doing all the architecture, but once the roof was shingled, almost all the rest was the kids. Buck made the snowman out of leftover fondant from the fruitcakes.
Wow.
Just baked cookies for the first time. They're about what you'd expect, but the kids had fun smearing icing and sprinkling sugary crap on them.
Very nice. We can't have nice things because I can't not eat gum drops.
That really is quite good. We had a small Xmas, with aeb/esk/ver, and I turned all of them. This is exciting, for I have never made them before, and now I am going to get a good pan and make them all the time! Yay!
Well, not that many people cook them for Xmas.
I am half glad and half disappointed there is not a confectionary widow staring mournfully from the widow's walk.
Which is to say the widow's walk is awesome.
14: Next year. We'll make her a tiny little licorice spyglass.
Everybody assumes diabetes, but he was crushed by a truck hauling Clark bars.
Reason for Christmas cheer #2017:
You are not. nor will ever be the person who wrote this column:
Other unanswered questions to ponder this Christmas Eve: Can he claim his elves as dependants? Does he pay Mrs. Claus a reasonable salary, allowing him to income split? What about the costs of the reindeer food?
Geographically appropriate as it is now manufactured by Necco (New England Confectionary Candy Co.
18 wasn't "opinionated" because I wanted to wish a Merry Christmas to Megan.
"Ahoy! The white chocolate whale!"
And even more thread-relevant: "Moreover, homemaking guru Martha Stewart trailblazed the use of [NECCO] wafers to build roofs for gingerbread houses."
Former Necco building now the Novatis Institutes for Biomedical Research.
Fuck other people's computers that I am bogarting but reticent about doing remembering personal info on.
Having just put aside the quart jar of goose fat from tonight's roast, I am amazed once again that Lizarbreath remarked recently that she was looking forward to cooking with goose fat in *January*. With a quart and half + from a 12 pound goose, we're set for the year re: roast potatoes and I'll still be flogging half pints of the stuff to everyone of "former Yugoslavia" extraction I know . . . cannot seem to get through it all in 12 months. Is this a NY - SF difference? I suppose this is my cue to make confit. Plus side - another goose liver or two to cook for a snack. Down side - jointing several geese. Very strenuous tendons, geese.
BTW - have world's best abelskiiver recipe, but call them dumpfelkuchen. Long story. The second "u" requires an umlaut, but I know not how to produce this on the interwebs. Ask for recipe and yee shall recieve.
The second "u" requires an umlaut, but I know not how to produce this on the interwebs.
ü
I want to know how to make dumpfelküchen. though it doesn't sound the most tropical-appropriate of dishes.
27: What I really need is a vegan Abel Skeever recipe. I'm very excited about getting a pan or two and making them for parties/benefits, but there'd be more interest among my social circle if they were vegan.
Thoughts?
(Please do send me your horrifyingly German-sounding recipe. I will just sing "The German Band" to myself when I make it, to continue to taunt the Huns with the memory of their defeats in the world wars.)
A wandering band went from Germany,
And came to Denmark as we shall see,
What happened wherever the German band,
Went playing their music in Denmark's land.
Tra-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
The schoolmaster always a gentle soul,
Was frightened and lost all his self-control,
Upset by the noise of the German drum,
When he met the parson, he shouted: "Bum!"
[Chorus]
But people got tired of the band at last,
No money came in when the hat was passed,
And so without money but spic and span,
The Germans went back to their Fatherland!
[There are at least 3 other verses, but I can never remember them.]
It's entirely legit to substitute "ue" for "ü", "ae" for "ä", etc. Indeed, it reveals you to be in the know!
At Christmas our family found we owned an antique brass crumber, and my brother happily occupied himself with crumbing for w time. Our crumber is a bit tarnished and in need of restoration. We had thought that it was an antique something else, and that it had broken in half from metal fatigue.
Abelskiver aka Dumpfelkuechen*
Buy one of those very small jars of anchovies packed in oil that have little bits of gilt on the label, strangely insubstantial lids and the little forks affixed to the side (this should by all rights be a trident, but sadly has only two teeth). The anchovies will be astonishingly salty - a bit of a soak in some milk will help to make them edible. Probably best to use them in green sauce or something where they are a bit player, rather than the main event. Reserve the fork very carefully, they are easily misplaced.
Take the seeds out of 3 green cardomom pods and pound them up in a mortar with 2 tablespoons of sugar.
Put the pan on to heat on medium low. Set some ghee to melt in a small pan, and have a brush ready on a plate near the stove, along with a soup spoon and your trusty anchovy fork.
Collect enough plates to serve all of the lucky people queuing up to consume the little golden pillows. Put out some red jam - or at least something jammy that is relatively acidic - and have something ready to sift on a nice drift of powdered sugar.
Separate 2 eggs. Whisk together the yolks with the cardamom/sugar, a good pinch of salt, the rind of a lemon grated very fine, 1/2 cup of very thick buttermilk or full fat yogurt, and a 1/2 cup of creme fraiche.
Stir together 3/4 cup flour (all purpose is fine) and 1/2 teaspoon baking soda.
Crank up the heat under the pan to medium/medium high.
Whip the egg whites to glossy peaks. Together egg yolk/dairy mixture, flour and egg whites by whatever method works best for you to maintain maximum airiness.
Use the brush to generously whiz ghee into each little depression in the pan. When I say generous, I really mean it. You can use butter for this, it'll just smoke and spit and you won't have the lovely perfume of the ghee. Make sure the ghee is nice, though; fresh butter better than nasty ghee. And of course clarified butter is fine, but if you are making clarified butter why not just make ghee? Then you get the carmelized milk solids to spread on a fresh roti with some jam and chili pepper flakes, which will make either you or any other reasonably beloved being hanging around extremely happy.
Put a nice soup spoon full of batter in each little half moon crater - 3/4 full is about right. Give them a minute or so to get nicely brown on the bottom and to firm up aroun the top edges. Now, using you trusty anchovy fork, pierce the edge of each little pillow and flip it on t'other side. You may need to give it a little skootch to get it properly turned. The second side will cook faster.
Pile the first batch on a plate, give it a little dusting of powdered sugar, and a spoon full of jam on the side. Yum!
Continue as above with the next batch, alway remembering to re-administer the ghee between each batch generously. This is baiscally a low-tech doughnut, folks - generosity required with the ghee.
You can make filled pillows by putting a bit of jam between two layers of batter, but you'll likely have some leakage which is a bit mucky to deal with so that it doesn't blacken the next batch. We like to just add the jam afterwards.
Enjoy!
*This is an entirely made up name. It is as inauthentic as they come, except for the intense authenticity entirely made up names acquire in every family.
34: Wait, so, the anchovies are just a side dish, right? You don't actually put them IN the aebleskiver, right? I mean, that would be horrifying, and far too much like actual Danish cuisine.
I've only had them filled with Nutella and I always assumed that was the traditional Danish way.
24: When they refitted the NECCO factory for Novartis, they had to blast the walls to get the candy off.
Let me be the first to say, "Wow, impressive!".
LB, I bow before your meringue mushroom prowess. truly awesome.
M/itch and I made krumkakers ("broom cakes" in Norwegian). They're cooked on a small waffle-type iron, then wrapped around a broom handle. I've had my grandmother's krumkaker iron for years but never made then until now. They were extremely delicious. I shall post a photo tomorrow.
And, yes, LB's mushrooms look perfect. I am inspired to make some myself.
may I suggest you also make meringue shelf fungus? it's what really makes my yule log special. definitely put chocolate gills underneath, too. there's a special french rake for raking the frosting. my brother commented very drily that he had "never seen a cake look so much like a rotten log." maybe I'll just randomly make one instead of a fluffy lamb with coconut at easter.
Anchovies critical element in green sauce. Anchovy *fork* critical element in dumpfelkuechen. Do not recommend green sauce as accompaniment to dumpfelkuechen.
Dumpfelkuechen made with buffalo milk yogurt - perfectly tropical. Just pretend it's a Parsi recipe, rename them something plausible and serve with sweet lemon pickle. Yummmmmm.
What I really want to learn how to make is those deep-fried cookies that are sort of a diamond shape, turned in upon itself. Those were always my favorite growing up. I'm guessing the deep-frying part is why they are not more popular.
41: Krumkakers now in the photo pool.
Bonus photos of the sheep scarf I knitted for the middle Kraabniece.
48: I tried, but I'm pretty sure you guys have herd them all already.
This is the holiday recipe thread? Here you go.
I mean, yeah. If it were like some olives stuffed in a green pepper stuffed in boiled cabbage, that'd be tight.
Now *that's* gross. (Come to think of it, isn't that from the Moosewood cookbook?)
Or maybe a cheeselog stuffed in a baguette stuffed in a bean burrito.
I'm a vegan, you insensitive cow enslaver.
I used to hate the Unfogged timesuck, but today I wanted it to suck much more. Shearer tried, but the rest of you were, with all due respect, well-nigh useless.
