The Five Year Engagement...

My ongoing effort to get us out of the house more often took us to the movie theater tonight, where we were actually able agree on a romantic comedy. This is notable mainly because Justin is a very tough sell on any movie that remotely comes across as being marketed toward women, and the film's title, The Five-Year Engagement, wasn't doing me any favors. However, the film's cast did boast the presence of Jason Segel, whose work Justin admires, and whom I've gained an appreciation for since his involvement with the latest Muppet movie. Unlike many compromises, when both sides end up unhappy, both Justin and I really ended up enjoying ourselves.

The movie turned out to be raunchier than I had expected, but then again, given that Jason Segel was the leading man and Judd Apatow as a co-producer, I really should have seen that coming. While I wouldn't have expected such material to work for Emily Blunt, whose particular brand of neurosis was perfectly showcased in The Devil Wears Prada, she actually demonstrated tremendous chemistry with Segel, and scored some of the film's more memorable lines. Plus, the film boasted a brilliant supporting cast, from an endearing performance by a nearly-unrecognizable Alison Brie, to the scene-stealing work of Chris Parnell, to a number of cameos by various high-profile comedians, The Five-Year Engagement was practically brimming over with talent.

Even if the film reached its climax in a typically unrealistic but highly romantic way, I respect The Five-Year Engagement for presenting a more believable take on modern relationships. Life may not always live up to our expectations, and we may have to adapt the vision we had for ourselves, but happy endings are still possible. I may be prone to buy into that message given my own state of romantic bliss, and I know that there are many people out there for whom things don't work out. But I still think The Five-Year Engagement makes a perfect date-night movie, with enough bawdy humor to keep the men engaged, and sufficient romantic optimism to make the ladies swoon.

Hamming It Up...

Despite the disastrous clean-up situation after our last round of waffle-making that brought me to the brink of throwing away a brand-new waffle iron, I found myself pulling it out of the depths of the kitchen cabinet in order to give things another try. I had spotted a recipe in the latest issue of Bon Appetit that provided one-stop shopping for brunch: ham and cheese waffles. They combined sweet and savory, protein and carbohydrates, and most importantly, I had all the ingredients in the house between our leftover Easter ham and the buttermilk I used to bake my blogiversary cake earlier this week. I couldn't ask for more.

The waffles turned out crisp yet fluffy, with a nice salty kick from the ham and cheese. I was a little wary of how they would pair with the maple syrup suggested in the recipe, but the combination was spot-on. If you like getting maple syrup on your ham or sausage when you go out for breakfast, it's a safe bet you'll like these waffles.

Most importantly, the cooked waffles released cleanly from the waffle iron, without creating another epic mess. We made these waffles for dinner, and it would have been miserable to spend our evening scraping food debris from our cooking implement. Now that I've gotten a successful batch of waffles under my belt, I'm ready to dust off the waffle iron with a bit more frequency, and explore a variety of conventional and unconventional recipes alike.

Ham and Cheese Waffles

adapted from Bon Appétit

1 3/4 c. flour

1 tablespoon sugar

2 teaspoons baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon kosher salt

3 large egg whites

3 large egg yolks

1 cup melted butter

1 cup buttermilk

3/4 cup soda water

1 cup thinly-cut strips of ham

3/4 cup shredded sharp white cheddar

Maple syrup

Preheat oven to 300°. Heat waffle iron until very hot. Whisk flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and kosher salt in a large bowl. Using an electric mixer, beat egg whites in a medium bowl until medium-soft peaks form. Whisk egg yolks, melted butter, buttermilk, and soda water in a medium bowl; gradually whisk into dry ingredients. Fold in egg whites.

Coat waffle iron with Pam. Pour batter onto iron, spreading it into corners (amount of batter needed will vary according to machine). Scatter 1 rounded Tbsp. ham and 1 Tbsp. white cheddar over each waffle. Cook until golden brown and cooked through. Transfer to a baking sheet; keep waffles warm in oven between batches. Serve with butter and warm maple syrup.

Sometimes You Catch More Flies with Vinegar...

"Easy, weeknight meal" is not something that is in my culinary vocabulary. I am notoriously bad at judging how long a recipe will take to make, and besides, I'd much rather turn out something with the potential to be amazing than something merely ordinary, just to have it done quickly. Even when I try recipes that are billed as being fast and simple, they never seem to come together as painlessly as promised, so most of the time I don't even bother seeking them out.

However, when I spotted a recipe for pork chops, pounded out into a thin paillard and quickly grilled, over some charred green onions (a preparation I had discovered a fondness for when I sampled them at Mercat a la Planxa during last year's Restaurant Week), dressed with a bright, citrus-y vinaigrette in Serious Eats' "Dinner Tonight" column, it spoke to me. I filed it away to Pinterest, and waited until I could get the ingredients on sale. The stars fell into alignment this week, so I was able to give this meal a chance at long last.

For once, this was a dinner that lived up to its billing: the meal came together with near-lightning speed, so much so that it beat out the brown rice we had put on to cook as an accompaniment by over twenty minutes. All the components cooked in the same pan as well, which is always an added bonus, though we managed to flood our kitchen with smoke, due to our woefully inefficient ventilation system. We're hoping to get a grill sometime this summer, so when that happens, we'll be able to prepare this meal outside and save ourselves the worry over accidentally setting off our smoke detector.

This recipe would make a perfect summer meal anyway; the orange-vinaigrette is tangy and light, almost refreshing, and it is a perfect foil for the silky grilled scallion and the smokey pork. I'm looking forward to enjoying this again on a warm, lovely evening sometime soon.

Pork Paillards with Orange Marmalade Vinaigrette 

adapted from Serious Eats

1 lb. thin-cut boneless pork chops (about 4)

2 bunches of scallions, roots trimmed but left whole

1/2 c. orange juice

2 teaspoons cider vinegar

2 teaspoons heavy cream

2 tablespoons orange marmalade

1/3 c. canola oil

1/3 c. olive oil

1. Season the chops with salt and pepper and set aside.

2. In a small bowl, whisk together the orange juice, vinegar and cream. Whisk in the marmalade, then add the canola oil in a slow stream at first while whisking constantly to create a smooth dressing. Continue whisking in the rest of the oil, taste for seasoning, and set aside.

3. Prepare a grill or heat a grill pan over high heat. Rub the scallions with olive oil and grill until charred and soft, 3 to 5 minutes. Remove to a platter and add the pork to the grill; cook until well-marked and firm, 3 to 4 minutes on each side. Transfer to a platter to rest for a moment.

4.  Drizzle the pork and onions with the vinaigrette, and serve immediately with brown rice.

Happy Blogiversary...

Hard as it may be to believe, yet another year has gone by here at "The State I Am In," bringing us to my third annual blogiversary. I've managed to persevere through all the upheaval of moving and creating a new home to write a total of 191 posts in the past year. That's the most posts I've written in a single year since I started blogging, and works out to a post every 1.9 days. Given everything that I've accomplished in the last year, I'm pretty pleased with myself!

I've undergone quite the lifestyle change in the past year, moving away from the heart of the city to a far-flung neighborhood, and building a home with the man I love. My posts skew more toward the domestic side these days, chronicling our various home improvement projects and the progress we're making on finishing our condo, as well as the meals I prepare for us. I made it my New Year's resolution to expand my cooking repertoire this year by trying new recipes, and using Pinterest as a visual to-do list has helped me to try over three dozen new recipes in the nearly three months since we moved. In case you hadn't guessed, "food" is still the most popular tag here at "The State I Am In," just as it always has been.

Accordingly, I've decided to continue my tradition of marking my blog's anniversary by baking a special cake. I've always tackled something new for my blogiversary, but in the past, I've always followed a random whim. This year, I thought I'd take a slightly different tack, and make a cake with a long, storied tradition -- my grandma's red velvet cake. For as long as I can remember, this is the cake Grandma would bake to celebrate family birthdays (usually my mom's or my aunts'), though she has changed her recipe countless times in recent years, in search of something slightly better. In my opinion, however, nothing can trump the original, and my copy of the recipe is the one she used throughout my childhood.

Red velvet cake is usually thought of as a Southern dessert, and didn't start to become widely available in Chicago until the cupcake boom of the past decade or so. Its striking red color, and unusual, marshmallow fluff-like frosting, both unnerved and fascinated my friends whenever we would share a cake with them when we were growing up, and several of my girlfriends have blamed me for ruining them on all commercially available red velvet cakes today.

You see, our family version eschews the typical cream cheese frosting that usually graces red velvet cake (in fact, I believe most red velvet cupcakes sold in shops are merely a vehicle for serving people cream cheese frosting), in favor of "seven-minute icing," the usual topping for Southern coconut cakes. Seven-minute icing, which derives its name from the amount of time you beat its ingredients over a double boiler in order to make it, is sticky, slightly chewy, but also fluffy and creamy. I'm not sure how it came to be combined with red velvet cake; our recipe came into our lives by way of a lady that belonged to Grandma's church, but other than that, we have very little information about how this recipe came to be a family staple. Still, I can't fathom eating red velvet cake in any other format.

I've long been too intimidated to try my hand at Grandma's signature dessert. My mom has successfully made it, and I have more baking experience and skills under my belt than she does at this point, but my repeated failure to replicate my grandma's Texas cake had me spooked. What if I failed at this too? My status as heir apparent to Grandma's baking legacy would be seriously called into question.

My blogiversary calls for something truly special, however, and I decided that this year it was time to conquer my fear of "red cake," and give it my best shot. Thankfully, Mom happened to be over at my house the day I tackled it, because Grandma's instructions for the frosting were somewhat vague. Apparently, her conception of a double boiler varies substantially from the technical term. She conceives of it as a medium saucepan, partially submerged in a wide, shallow pan of boiling water. This unusual set-up was a little harrowing, as the scalding water was sloshing out of the pan as I beat the icing, but the end product turned out absolutely perfect, so I was happy to have obtained some motherly guidance in making it.

I almost don't want to say it, but I think my red cake turned out better than many of the ones I've had from Grandma Betsy, and it was certainly a feast worthy of my blogiversary. Here's hoping my success with Grandma's red velvet cake is a fortuitous sign for the next year of "The State I Am In!"

Red Cake

adapted from Grandma Betsy

1/2 c. unsalted butter

1 1/2 c. sugar

2 eggs

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

2 teaspoons natural cocoa powder

1 oz. red food coloring, plus 1 oz. water

2 1/4 - 2 1/2 c. cake flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon cider vinegar

1 teaspoon salt

1 c. buttermilk

Preheat oven to 350.

1. Cream together butter and sugar.

2. Add two eggs, one at a time.

3. Combine vanilla, cocoa, food coloring, and water. Mix with butter, sugar, and eggs.

4. Sift together cake flour, baking powder, and salt. Add alternately with buttermilk to egg mixture.

5. Mix 1 teaspoon baking soda and vinegar in a small bowl, and gently fold into batter.

6. Bake for 30 minutes, in two 9-inch pans lined with parchment paper in the bottoms. Ice when cool.

Seven-Minute Icing

2 egg whites

3/4 c. sugar

1/3 c. light corn syrup

2 tablespoons water

1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1. Combine all ingredients except vanilla extract in a saucepan set into a shallow pan of boiling water. Beat with an electric hand-mixer for seven minutes.

2. After beating, add vanilla extract. Spread onto cake immediately.

How Sweet It Is...

I can't deny it any longer: I've been involved in a long-simmering love affair beyond the confines of my relationship with Justin. You can relax though, the object of my affection is not another man, but rather, a vegetable -- sweet potatoes to be precise. It started last year, when I discovered that my appreciation extended beyond the occasional plate of fries, and now I've been trying to sneak them into every dish I can find a recipe for. There was a delectable breakfast hash, a perfect mashed sweet potato side dish, and I even attempted to put them on a pizza, though that turned out to be a questionable decision on my part.

My latest experiment involved a sweet potato pie, but not the version laden with warm spices that one tends to see on holiday menus. Instead, this version, from Donald Link, the chef behind Cochon, the restaurant where we ate so well in New Orleans, was a savory, Cajun-inspired spin on the dish. As if the presence of sweet potatoes and the Donald Link connection wasn't enough to motivate me to try it, the recipe included andouille sausage, which makes everything better, in my experience.

In order to turn the pie into a more practical weeknight meal, I made the crust yesterday, and chilled it overnight, which had the added benefit of netting me a bonus pie crust for the freezer, since my favorite recipe makes enough for a double-crusted pie. I also baked the sweet potatoes in advance, so all I had to do was saute the meat and onions, combine the ingredients for the filling, and bake. It wasn't the quickest meal I've ever made on a work night, but it certainly wasn't the most laborious either.

I ended up having mixed feelings about the pie. While I though that the spicy sausage was a perfect compliment to the sweet potatoes, the texture of the filling was a little light and fluffy for me. A savory entree seems to call for a denser, more substantial mouth feel, and the lightness of this pie made it feel like a dessert with some misplaced meat and vegetables. I think the textural problems could be remedied by pureeing the sweet potatoes with the egg yolks, and stirring in the heavy cream by hand, as the action of the food processor started turning the cream into whipped cream before the mixture was fully incorporated.

It would be worth testing this technique, because this savory pie was a huge hit with Justin, and I did enjoy the flavors, if not the texture. I like the idea of savory pies in general, but then again, I seem to be having something of a pie moment lately. After all, I've made more pies than cookies in our new home, and that's highly unusual for me. Stay tuned to see what I think up next!

Andouille and Sweet Potato Pie

adapted from Food and Wine

1 lb. small sweet potatoes, pierced with a fork

1/2 lb. andouille sausage, cut into 1-inch pieces

1/2 small onion, finely chopped

1 tablespoon minced garlic

1/2 teaspoon dried sage, crumbled

1 c. heavy cream

3 large egg yolks

freshly ground black pepper

1 recipe pie crust

Preheat the oven to 350°. Wrap the sweet potatoes in foil and bake for 45 minutes, until they are soft. Let the sweet potatoes cool. Meanwhile, bake prepared pie crust.

In a large skillet, heat a tablespoon of olive oil. Add the andouille sausage and cook over high heat, stirring occasionally, until it is lightly browned, about 5 minutes. Add the onion, garlic and dried sage and cook until the onion is softened, about 5 minutes. Let cool slightly.

Peel the sweet potatoes and transfer them to a food processor. Puree until very smooth. Season with salt and pepper. Add the egg yolks and process until incorporated. Stir in the heavy cream by hand. Transfer the filling to a large bowl and stir in the andouille mixture. Scrape the filling into the crust and bake for about 45 minutes, until the custard is set. Let cool for 20 minutes, then cut the pie into wedges and serve.

Laying It On Thick...

As part of my overall effort to reduce our grocery bills and minimize food waste, I've become fairly adept at both shopping the sales at our local grocery stores, and clipping coupons. We might not get to eat based on our whims and cravings, but I have been enjoying the challenge of coming up with new recipes to use whatever is a good deal in a given week, and to use up our leftovers. Tonight, for instance, I decided to utilize some of the extra meat that we had frozen after baking up a massive ham that had gotten a tremendous deal on during the week of Easter. I wanted to turn it into something more interesting than a series of sandwiches and omelets, so I looked to my Pinterest board for inspiration, and found an intriguing gratin recipe from Bon Appètit.

It called for layers of thinly-sliced potatoes, nutty Gruyere cheese, tender leeks, chunks of ham, and artichoke hearts to be baked until golden-brown and bubbly. Au gratin and scalloped potatoes are two of my favorites (though it's really hard to go wrong with potatoes in my book), so I really didn't think I could go wrong. 

As it turns out, I don't really care for artichoke hearts, or at least not in this dish. I've enjoyed them in the past on sandwiches, in spreads, and other applications, but for some reason, their tart, almost briny flavor did not pair well with the other ingredients. The gratin was delicious when I picked out all the artichokes (and for the record, Justin, the consummate veggie lover in our relationship picked them out also), but I think I would feel bad preparing a dish so rich without at least some sort of vegetable component in the future.

I'm not sure what would work well in its place. Maybe broccoli? Perhaps zucchini, or would that be too watery? Any ideas?

Ham, Artichoke, and Potato Gratin

adapted from Bon Appétit

1/2 stick butter

4 cups thinly sliced leeks (white and pale green parts only; about 4 large)

3 pounds russet potatoes, peeled, thinly sliced (1/8 to 1/4 inch thick)

1 1/2 pounds 1/8-inch-thick ham slices

2 8 oz. boxes frozen artichoke hearts, thawed, halved lengthwise

10 oz. coarsely grated Gruyere cheese

2 c. chicken broth

1 1/2 tablespoons all purpose flour

1 teaspoon coarse kosher salt

1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Preheat oven to 400°F. Butter 13x9x2-inch glass baking dish. Melt 1/4 cup butter in heavy large skillet over medium heat. Add leeks; sprinkle with coarse salt and pepper and cook until tender, stirring occasionally, about 12 minutes. Set aside.

Cover bottom of baking dish with 1/3 of potato slices, overlapping as needed. Layer 1/3 of ham over. Scatter 1/3 of leeks over, then 1/3 of artichoke hearts. Measure 3/4 cup cheese; set aside. Sprinkle half of remaining cheese over. Repeat layering 1 time with potato slices, ham, leeks, artichokes, and cheese. Cover with remaining potato slices, ham, leeks, and artichoke hearts.

Whisk broth and next three ingredients in small saucepan over medium heat until flour dissolves. Bring mixture to boil; cook until smooth and thickened, stirring often, about 3 minutes. Pour over gratin. Sprinkle 3/4 cup cheese over. Cover gratin with foil, tenting in center to prevent cheese from sticking. Bake gratin 45 minutes. Uncover and bake until potatoes are soft, topping is browned, and juices are bubbling, about 50 minutes. Let rest 15 minutes before serving.

Your Breakfast, My Liege...

For as long as I can remember, I have loved learning about other places and cultures. When I was little, I was obsessed with ancient Egypt and its pharaohs, mummies, and pyramids, and I would beg my mom to take me to the Field Museum to see their interactive Egypt exhibit. Later, I developed an interest in French Impressionist art, and took my first trip abroad with my dad, to Paris, and have been exploring the treasures of Europe ever since. Today, since my finances keep me from traveling as much as I would like, I satisfy my wanderlust with a combination of watching travel programs on television, and trying exotic foods.

Some time ago, I was watching a show about Belgium, and while I can't remember if it was Rick Steves or Samantha Brown, the thing that stood out the most about the episode were the unusual waffles available in the city of Liège. Unlike regular waffles which are made from a thin batter, these featured a thick, yeasted dough, studded with "pearl sugar," or irregular chunks of sugar that haven't been broken into fine granules. When placed on a searing hot griddle, the chunks of sugar melt and turn into caramel, creating both pockets of caramel and a thin, crispy coating of caramelized sugar on the surface of the waffle. Given how much I love caramel, I knew that someday I had to sample one for myself.

At first, I dreamed of visiting Belgium and munching on a piping hot waffle as I strolled the streets of Liège, but as time wore on, the thought of getting to try the real McCoy became an increasingly remote possibility. I considered the idea of trying to replicate them at home, but I didn't have a waffle iron, and the only place I could find pearl sugar was the internet -- two formidable obstacles. One day, however, when I was browsing the tempting wares at Fox & Obel, my favorite gourmet shop, I happened to observe that they carried pearl sugar. Suddenly, I was one step closer, but I was still missing that waffle iron.

When Justin and I decided to move in together, one of the first purchases I made was a new waffle iron, since I had such fond memories of making waffles together when we'd been able to borrow one of our families' devices. Then, when I was pouring over all my years' worth of cooking magazines to clip the interesting recipes in preparation for our move, I just so happened to come across a recipe in Food and Wine for Liège waffles. Surely, it had to be a sign.

Last week, when we went to Fox & Obel to use up our Groupon, I picked up a box of pearl sugar, and this morning, I finally made my dream of Liège-style waffles come true. The waffles were everything I had hoped they would be, from the overtones of caramel, to the shattering crispness of a candy-coated waffle. The dough was sweet and the yeast gave it an excellent, complex flavor. I was in heaven -- until we went to wash the waffle iron.

Since our model doesn't have removable plates, we can't soak the machine in order to clean it, and it was completely caked in baked-on caramelized sugar. We tried pouring oil on it and letting it sit, as per the cleaning instructions that came with it, but all we ended up with was oil all over the counter and the waffle maker, in addition to all the burnt sugar. We tried wiping it with a rag, but the iron's ridges were too deep and narrow to really get our fingers in them. We tried Q-Tips, but they kept breaking and bending under the pressure needed to scrub the sugar off. Finally, after taking many frustrated breaks, I came up with the idea of wrapping a chopstick in a paper towel (to prevent scratching), and using that to chisel off the sugar. It worked like a charm, though it still took a long time to get the infernal device clean.

I was happy to satisfy my curiosity about Liège waffles, but if I ever want them again, I'll have to travel to Belgium for them. Nearly ruining a brand-new waffle iron was enough to dissuade me from ever tackling this recipe again. They were delicious, and I'm happy that I got to have the experience making them, but in the end, they weren't worth all the hours of frustration.

Liège Waffles

adapted from Food and Wine

1 1/2 tablespoons brown sugar

1 3/4 teaspoons active dry yeast

1/3 c. lukewarm water

2 c. all-purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon salt

3 large eggs

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 c. unsalted butter, melted

1 c. Belgian pearl sugar

1. In a small bowl, whisk the brown sugar and yeast into the lukewarm water and let stand until foamy, about 5 minutes. In the bowl of a standing mixer fitted with the paddle, mix the flour with the salt. Make a well in the center of the bowl and pour in the yeast mixture. Mix at medium speed until shaggy, about 1 minute. Add the eggs one at a time, mixing for 20 seconds between each. Whisk the vanilla with the 1 cup of melted butter. With the mixer at medium-low, gradually mix in the butter until smooth; the batter will be thick and very sticky. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and let the batter rise in the refrigerator overnight.

2. Stir the pearl sugar into the risen batter. Cover again and let rest for 15 minutes.

3. Preheat a Belgian waffle iron and spray it with Pam. Gently stir the batter to deflate. Using about 2 tablespoons of batter for each, cook the waffles according to the manufacturer's directions until they are golden and crisp; spray with more Pam as needed. Serve warm.