I made this without the jalapeños, so I suppose the title of this post should just be “Cheddar Cornbread.” I can’t believe I’m advocating this, but I strongly prefer the cornbread mix sold by Trader Joe’s. If I made this scratch version again, I would halve the recipe, or I would at least make it in two 8×8 or 9×9 pans, because the 9×13 pan produced a version that sunk in the middle, even though the cornbread was cooked thoroughly.
Barefoot Contessa at Home
Filed under Side dishes and Vegetables
This recipe (Barefoot Contessa at Home) claims to be less bland than other versions of Irish Soda Bread because it contains currants and orange zest. It may be less bland, but I still found it to be kind of dry and boring. Sorry, Ireland.
Filed under Breakfast
This recipe (Barefoot Contessa Family Style) claims to be less “cloying” than pumpkin pie, but I didn’t really care for it. My husband bravely gobbled through it, but I was not impressed. First of all, creating it dirties about three times as many dishes as regular pumpkin pie would. Now, that alone would not bother me so much if it actually tasted better than the traditional version. But banana? With pumpkin? Blech. Give me cloying instead, please. The upside to making this recipe was that my husband was utterly impressed by the fact that I can make homemade whipped cream. Word to the single ladies out there: find a man who’s easily impressed.
Filed under Dessert
These short ribs were part of our grass-fed beef order from our CSA, and never having cooked short ribs before, I was looking forward to trying this recipe (Barefoot Contessa Family Style). However, I did have some reservations, since the recipe was eerily similar to that for Company Pot Roast, which as we all know ended in disaster. This time, I used less wine than what was called for, after the pot roast ended up tasting like merlot-flavored shoe leather. Still, the results were extremely disappointing. Dry, tough, and just plain sad. Even though grass fed beef is known for being less fatty, these ribs had no shortage of fat, and so I was surprised to find the cooked meat to be dry and tough. The meat was surrounded by plenty of moisture, so I know that wasn’t the issue, and I actually have a theory about why these recipes have led to such abysmal results. I know that certain cuts of meat lend themselves to slow, low cooking. These are the cuts of meat that I tend to cook in the crock pot, and I can leave them largely unattended all day. I think that there’s a general stigma in the culinary world against slow cookers/crock pots (can you say “hot dish” everyone?), but I think that they do serve a purpose, and the folks at Cook’s Illustrated even agree. Without a slow cooker, the alternative would be to leave these dishes in the oven for longer periods of time at lower temperatures. Seeing “bake for four hours” in a recipe can be intimidating to most of us who don’t sit at home all day waiting for the meat to stew, so these cookbooks have sped up the cooking time with a slightly higher temperature. The results: pitiful.
This is just my amateur viewpoint, of course, but two sad dinners have led me back to my beloved slow cooker for tougher cuts of meat.
I’ve never made blintzes before, mostly because of the labor intensiveness that they seem to require. I don’t mind labor intensive recipes, but breakfast is not the time to experiment with futz. So, I decided to get cute and try to make these in advance. I made (at least) two fatal errors: I poured too much batter in the bottom of the pan, not leaving enough for the top, and I didn’t account for extra cooking time that was required by having the whole mess in the refrigerator overnight. The result: an unattractive, unset, gloopy mess. At least I didn’t waste the time and ingredients for the blueberry sauce. In theory, I think this is a good idea – rather than the original concept of making individual pancakes and stuffing them with cheese, I like the idea of putting them all in a pan, and I may start making all of our pancakes in the oven this way. But because I was both lazy and too careless to accurately measure the bottom vs. the top batter, I had toast that morning instead. Boo.
Barefoot Contessa Back to Basics
Filed under Breakfast
The headnotes to this recipe (Barefoot Contessa Back to Basics), indicated that it was inspired by a recipe from Cook’s Illustrated, reportedly one of Ina Garten’s favorite magazines (and one of mine, too). For me, learning that the dear Contessa loves one of my other favorite recipe sources was like finding out that a new best friend shares a love for a favorite author, or like introducing the love of my life to my dad and just knowing that they’d hit it off. My heart sang to see the magazine mentioned on the hallowed pages of a Contessa cookbook. The folks at Cook’s Illustrated are also responsible for the PBS series America’s Test Kitchen. I’ve rarely been disappointed by a Cook’s Illustrated recipe, but I do find the instructions a little fussy, and the America’s Test Kitchen folks more than a little uppity. Then again, if I tested as many recipes and tools as they do, I’d probably be plenty uppity. I just find the Contessa series to be much more approachable and practical for most weeknight meals. That said, when I’m not afraid of a time commitment and I want the absolute best results, I turn to Cook’s Illustrated. In addition, I love it when they find that a less expensive gadget or tool works just as well or better than its pricier counterpart. It’s like cheering for the underdog.
So, needless to say, I was excited to try this recipe, where my two favorite recipe sources married on one page. Unfortunately, as soon as I got started, I realized that my cake flour had expired, and I wasn’t sure it should be used. I was already too far into the recipe to turn back, so I substituted all-purpose flour. This turned out to be an ill-advised decision on my part. I baked it for 50 minutes (the low end of the suggested time), and tested it with a toothpick. The toothpick came out clean in most places, but the cake looked like it needed a little more time in one place. Five minutes later, the toothpick came out clean everywhere. I followed the instructions to let the cake cool before removing it from the pan, and then cooled it further on a cooling rack. Then, at the moment of truth, cutting into the cake, it was mostly doughy on the inside. I blame the all-purpose flour. Bummer. Because of all the cooling time, it was too late to put the cake back into the oven.
Still, the slices that we were able to salvage were absolutely delicious, and we’ve become somewhat experienced at tasting pound cake over the years. I find that pound cake recipes work well with Nordic Ware bundt/molded pans, as they have enough fat and bulk to slide right out of the pan. (Incidentally, the Nordic Ware factory is less than 2 miles from my house. I scour the want ads for a taste-testing position, but alas, they’re only hiring metal workers. Bah.) Also, pound cake seems to be a Southern staple, so I practiced the art of baking it from Junior League and church cookbooks over the years. As far as pound cake recipes go, this one tasted fantastic, but next time I’ll be sure to have fresh cake flour on hand.
Filed under Dessert
The only thing outrageous about these brownies (The Barefoot Contessa Cookbook) is how much butter is required to make them, and how they can still turn out to be just so-so. I’ve made them twice now, and the first time I thought maybe I did something wrong. The second time just confirmed my suspicions: I’m just not all that outraged by their goodness. They’re a bit dry, and not quite sweet enough for my tastes. I have friends who love them, though, so maybe it’s just a matter of taste. But hearing them rave about these brownies makes me feel the same way as when I don’t get the hype about certain movies or books. Blech.
So, here’s my dirty little secret: my favorite brownies come from a boxed mix. I realize this, along with my love of tuna noodle casserole and Doritos, kills my chances of being taken seriously in any real culinary circles. While I’m confessing, I’m not a teetotaler, but I don’t like wine. It tastes like vinegar mixed with rubbing alcohol to me. What can I say? I like what I like, and I’m a very handy designated driver.
If you really have a hankering for brownies from scratch, I prefer this recipe.
Filed under Dessert
This recipe (Barefoot Contessa at Home) is further proof that I can’t follow a recipe for mashed potatoes. I think maybe it’s a little like learning to drive or play a musical instrument: one can’t follow written instructions alone to learn this craft. It should be noted that I’ve made plenty of batches of perfectly decent mashed potatoes, but never from a recipe, whether with ricer, food processor, mixer, or by hand. This batch turned out to be both soupy and lumpy at the same time – quite a feat, really. They were still edible, though, and maybe I’ve just learned my lesson to stick to my instincts instead of following the written word when it comes to mashing spuds.
Filed under Side dishes and Vegetables
See the candy corn in the background?
Oh, dear Barefoot Contessa. Sweet Ina. Where did I go wrong? Perhaps it’s the fact that I’ve been sharing the same head and chest cold with my toddler for over a month now, and I’m operating on a torture victim’s ration of sleep. Maybe the fact that I hadn’t left the house for days on end made me so loopy that I couldn’t read the directions properly. It could be that I got a bum cut of meat. But this dinner? This Company Pot Roast (Barefoot Contessa Back to Basics, pp. 117-118) and Garlic Mashed Potatoes (Barefoot In Paris, p. 166)? This dinner was downright inedible. Let’s start with the pot roast: I followed these directions exactly. I chose a perfectly marbled chuck roast, and I seared it on all sides. I used the exact amount of liquid called for, and it wasn’t in the oven for a minute too long. It came out tasting like wine-flavored shoe leather. Profanity may have been uttered. The sauce was a gigantic mess (hot liquids + the food processor + me = disaster). The garlic mashed potatoes were more like potato soup. It’s possible that I’m just not wise in the ways of a food mill, but it was not working for me on the night of the garlic mashed potatoes. I can’t believe I peeled an entire head of garlic for this soupy mess.
The redeeming quality of this meal was that I was reminded that I have a Most Wonderful Husband, who has learned not to say, “Maybe it will be better the next time you make it.” There will be no next time. I’m disappointed to be so… disappointed. My word to the wise: make the “company” pot roast at home first for your family before trying it out on company. Hopefully you’ll have better luck than I did. In the meantime, I’m not giving up faith in the project, and I’m not even going to blame the recipes for these disasters. I think maybe I had a bad cut of meat. Perhaps I should have soldiered on with the food mill for the potatoes a bit longer. Either way, I think the advice holds true for any recipe that one should try a menu at home for family (and possibly some brave friends) first, before trying to impress guests with it. And if you’re new in the kitchen, rest assured that all of us have a bad meal or two.
Garlic "Mashed Potatoes"
That's a lot of dishes for a pitiful excuse of a dinner.
Edited to add: As if the disappointing dinner weren’t bad enough, I had the worst time loading pictures into this post. It’s like adding insult to injury. Just kick me while I’m down, why don’t you, WordPress?
Filed under dinner
