louisiana: beignets with strawberry-bourbon jam
After writing about beignets in the previous post, I couldn’t shake them from my mind. As a fat girl, things that are fried are never far from my mind in general (haha, no just kidding. hey, do you have any cupcakes?) but the pull of beignets was enticing. The force is strong with this fried dough. I immediately consulted my workhusband Jesse.
I’m paraphrasing here, but I’m pretty sure the conversation went something like this:
“Jesse, do you think we can make beignets this weekend?”
“YES YES A MILLION TIMES YES YOU ARE THE GREATEST.”
Again, potentially paraphrasing. Also I think my brain automatically adds that greatest thing at the end of every sentence Jesse says to me.
A while back, in the first few months of our friendship, I gave Jesse and his roommate a deep fryer than my ex-boyfriend’s grandmother had given to us as a Christmas present. I refused to use it in our apartment, citing the great Fry-a-palooza 2003 that my college roommates and I experienced. It left our apartment smelling like a bowling alley snack bar for about 3 weeks after – a heady mixture of shame, regret, and overcooked oil. Also french toast sticks.
So I gave it to Jesse and his roommate, figuring they would get more use out of it than we did.
Luckily, my gift was returned to me tenfold in the form of fried deliciousness.
Jesse made the dough, as he is involved with all things bread (and ladies, he’s single if you like a man who can make a mean loaf of honey wheat and has all the AP style memorized) these days. We played Pirate Fluxx while we waited for the dough to rise (I highly recommend this, especially if you get the captain card) and I rolled it out and cut it into little squares. Jesse had halved the recipe, but we still had about 80 million squares of dough.
Frying was easy, though smelly and gross. But eating a beignet fresh out of the fryer, covered in powdered sugar, dipped in strawberry-bourbon jam… well, that’s an experience, and one I repeated about 100 times that night. Sitting next to one of my best friends, eating hunks of sweet, airy fried dough doused in sweet, bourbony jam, watching The West Wing? I’ve never had a better Sunday evening.
Beignets with strawberry-bourbon jam
adapted from Paula Deen
Note: this recipe below makes a TON of beignets. I think we ended up with almost 100 beignets and we halved it. So adjust accordingly.
Ingredients
1 1/2 cups lukewarm water
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1 envelope active dry yeast
2 eggs, slightly beaten
1 1/4 teaspoons salt
1 cup evaporated milk
7 cups bread flour
1/4 cup shortening
Nonstick spray
Oil, for deep-frying
3 cups confectioners’ sugar
Directions
Mix water, sugar, and yeast in a large bowl and let sit for 10 minutes.
In another bowl, beat the eggs, salt and evaporated milk together. Mix egg mixture to the yeast mixture. In a separate bowl, measure out the bread flour.
Add 3 cups of the flour to the yeast mixture and stir to combine. Add the shortening and continue to stir while adding the remaining flour. Remove dough from the bowl, place onto a lightly floured surface and knead until smooth. Spray a large bowl with nonstick spray. Put dough into the bowl and cover with plastic wrap or a towel. Let rise in a warm place for at least 2 hours.
Preheat oil in a deep-fryer to 350 degrees F.
Add the confectioners’ sugar to a paper or plastic bag and set aside.
Roll the dough out to about 1/4-inch thickness and cut into 1-inch squares. Let rise for 30 minutes. (This is not a step that Paula Deen has in her original instructions, but we found that letting the beignets do a second smaller rise resulted in bigger, fluffier beignets. Don’t skip this step!) Deep-fry, flipping constantly, until they become a golden color. After beignets are fried, drain them for a few seconds on paper towels, and then toss them into the bag of confectioners’ sugar. Hold bag closed and shake to coat evenly. Serve with strawberry-bourbon jam and strong coffee.
louisiana: strawberry-bourbon jam
I often wonder if France regrets selling the Louisiana Purchase. I mean, the United States kind of got that for a steal. We paid a cool $15 million to France in 1803, which equals out to about 3 cents an acre. Adjusting for inflation, we paid about 42 cents per acre, and got the Midwest (aka those pesky parcels of land that snobby East and West Coasters refer to as ‘flyover states’). Obviously, one of the states included in the Louisiana Purchase was….. (drum roll please) Louisiana.
Surprising, I know, right? Sometimes life needs spoiler alerts.
Here’s what I knew about Louisiana before doing some research:
1. Uh, obviously, Mardi Gras. Note: I have never been to Mardi Gras, and I think I would probably really enjoy a trip there as I am a huge fan of debauchery in all of its forms.
2. Instead of counties, they’re called parishes. This sounds super fancy. Louisiana might be the only state that throws back to Europe. The rest of the U.S. like ‘y’allllllll counties’ and Louisiana is more like ‘oui oui, parish!’ (ok, ok, I know that most Louisianans probably use y’all, but in my head, I picture all of them speaking French because that’s how I want to picture it.)
3. New Orleans is below sea level. I think EVERYBODY knows that now.
4. Vampires really like Louisiana. See: True Blood, Interview with the Vampire. Not related: Twilight.
5. Beignets look delicious and every time I see a Food Network show feature beignets, I immediately start pricing airfare to this city built of fried dough. I only want to visit cities where fried dough is a specialty, please.
But really, I mean, when you think of Louisiana, you think of New Orleans. Sorry, all you other parishes – apparently nobody cares about you that much. It’s strictly New Orleans, and more specifically, all areas that focus on Mardi Gras like Bourbon Street.
And the state fruit of Louisiana is actually a strawberry.
Thus, Louisiana jam: Strawberry infused with bourbon. Sweet with the heady scent of bourbon. Breasts and beads not included.
Also, hey France? Thanks.
Strawberry Bourbon Jam
(adapted from Ball)
Ingredients
5 cups crushed strawberries (about 5 lbs)
1/4 cup lemon juice
6 Tbsp Ball® RealFruit™ Pectin
7 cups granulated sugar
1/2 cup bourbon (or to taste. 1/2 cup will give you a reasonably good bourbon flavor. remember: DEBAUCHERY.)
Directions
Combine strawberries and lemon juice in a 6 to 8 quart stockpot. Gradually stir in pectin. Bring mixture to a full rolling boil that cannot be stirred down, stirring constantly.
Add entire amount of sugar. Stir to dissolve. Return mixture to full rolling boil; let boil hard for 1 minute, stirring constantly. Remove from heat, skim foam. Add bourbon (watch for splatters!). (Note: alcohol can be tricky with jams – I suggest using the freezer plate test to check the set of your jam)
Ladle hot jam into hot, clean, sterilized jars leaving 1/4 inch headspace. Process for 10 minutes in a boiling water bath, remove jars and cool. Let sit for 24 hours, then check seal.
texas: ruby red grapefruit curd tart
So let’s face it – citrus curd goes bad in a week. And even the most dedicated of us would be hard-pressed to eat 12 ounces of curd in 7 days. Sure, you can mix a dollop with greek yogurt, or eat it on scones or bread, or, you know, just off a spoon. But there comes a point when you have to say enough is enough, and figure out something to do with this.
Enter…. the tart.
A tart is one of the easiest ways you can use up jams or curds. Plus, it looks super fancy, when it’s actually fairly easy to do.
Today is actually my 29th birthday, and my friend Elyas, who designed the logo for this site, is hosting a dinner party for me. He and his wife are amazing in the kitchen, and I know that whatever I bring to their table will be overshadowed by bone marrow and puddings. But he and his wife are also one of the biggest fans of my jam-making, always eating all the things I make. In fact, United States of Jam was partially his idea, mainly because I think he just wanted 50 kinds of jam. So why not offer up my first creation?
I made this grapefruit curd tart in between swigs of wine and freelance work. It was not a terrible way to spend the first day of being 29 years old.
We’re just going to call this “rustic”
Grapefruit Curd Tart
adapted from smitten kitchen
Ingredients
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup confectioner’s sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 stick plus 1 tablespoon (9 tablespoons; 4 1/2 ounces) very cold (or frozen) unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
1 large egg
8 oz. grapefruit curd
Directions
1. Pulse the flour, sugar and salt together in the bowl of a food processor. Scatter the pieces of butter over the dry ingredients and pulse until the butter is coarsely cut in. (You’re looking for some pieces the size of oatmeal flakes and some the size of peas.) Stir the yolk, just to break it up, and add it a little at a time, pulsing after each addition. When the egg is in, process in long pulses–about 10 seconds each–until the dough, which will look granular soon after the egg is added, forms clumps and curds. Just before you reach this stage, the sound of the machine working the dough will change–heads up. Turn the dough out onto a work surface and, very lightly and sparingly, knead the dough just to incorporate any dry ingredients that might have escaped mixing. Chill the dough, wrapped in plastic, for about 2 hours before rolling.
2. To roll the dough: Butter a 9-inch fluted tart pan with a removable bottom. Roll out chilled dough on floured sheet of parchment paper to 12-inch round, lifting and turning dough occasionally to free from paper. (Alternately, you can roll this out between two pieces of plastic, though flour the dough a bit anyway.) Using paper as aid, turn dough into 9-inch-diameter tart pan with removable bottom; peel off paper. Seal any cracks in dough. Trim overhang to 1/2 inch. Fold overhang in, making double-thick sides. Pierce crust all over with fork.
Alternately, you can press the dough in as soon as it is processed: Press it evenly across the bottom and up the sides of the tart shell. You want to press hard enough that the pieces cling to one another, but not so hard that it loses its crumbly texture. (this is what I did, and it worked just fine in my wine haze)
3. Freeze the crust for at least 30 minutes, preferably longer, before baking. (I froze mine for about an hour and a half because I forgot about it. See aforementioned wine haze)
4. To fully or partially bake the crust: Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. Butter the shiny side of a piece of aluminum foil (or use nonstick foil) and fit the foil, buttered side down, tightly against the crust. And here is the very best part: Since you froze the crust, you can bake it without weights. Put the tart pan on a baking sheet and bake the crust for 20 to 25 minutes.
5. Carefully remove the foil. If the crust has puffed, press it down gently with the back of a spoon. Bake the crust about 10 minutes longer to fully bake it, or until it is firm and golden brown, brown being the important word: a pale crust doesn’t have a lot of flavor. (To partially bake it, only an additional 5 minutes is needed.) Transfer the pan to a rack and cool the crust to room temperature.
6. Spread grapefruit curd in tart crust. Make sure you do artful swirls and swoops with your spatula if you want to go that route, or completely smooth it out with your OCD tendencies. Let chill at least 2 hours. Top with garnishes such a copious amounts of whipped cream or some sort of berry. Or mint sprigs. Everyone likes those.
texas: ruby red grapefruit curd
Here are some quick facts about the state of Texas, culled directly from the Ashley J. Perks Database of Knowledge:
1. Texas is big. But not as big as Alaska.
2. My friend Amanda grew up in Texas, something she reminds me of every time we talk.
3. It’s a magical place full of Dublin Dr. Pepper and Whataburger.
I had always vaguely heard grapefruits mentioned along with Texas, but I had not realized just how much Texas likes to be associated with them. In fact, Texas has two trademarked red grapefruit names — the Rio Star and the Ruby Sweet. When you buy one of those specific grapefruits, you can be assured that they do, in fact, hail from the Lone Star State.
Fun Facts About Texas That Are Not From My Database of Knowledge:
- The King Ranch in Texas is bigger than the state of Rhode Island.
- The lightning whelk is the official state shell.
- The capitol in Austin opened May 16, 1888. The dome of the building stands seven feet higher than that of the nation’s Capitol in Washington, D.C. (everything is bigger in Texas, am I right?)
- Texas includes 267,339 square miles, or 7.4% of the nation’s total area.
Curd is not a jam or a preserve by any means. But it’s delicious, and I had a lot of eggs and butter left from holiday baking. It’s thick and creamy, almost like a custard, and it’s delicious to eat slathered on bread products, sandwiched between cake layers, or tucked into a pastry shell to form a tart. When I eat fruit curd properly, I like to eat it on a piece of thickly-cut bread paired with a mug of tea. It makes me feel like I’m having afternoon tea with the Queen or Kate Middleton or (dare I say) Prince Harry, even though they’re all across an ocean, super far away from me, my abominable tea bags and my delicious grapefruit curd. You guys are missing out, Great Britain.
There is just one piece of bread in this photo, but let’s just be honest with ourselves, I ate two.
Curd is also a much easier process to make than jam, though it doesn’t last nearly as long. But honestly, you won’t have to worry about long-term storage because if you’re anything like me, you’ll just eat it with a spoon directly from the jar every night like Bridget Jones. It rarely lasts more than a week here, but I think you can safely keep it in the refrigerator for up to a week. After that point, I would check for signs of spoilage.
Ruby Red Grapefruit Curd
(adapted from honey & jam)
Ingredients
8 large egg yolks
3/4 cup freshly squeezed ruby red grapefruit juice (this took 1 1/2 grapefruits for me, but your results may vary)
1/4 cup + 2 tbsp freshly squeezed lemon juice
finely grated zest of 1 ruby red grapefruit
1 cup granulated sugar
1/8 tsp salt
1 1/4 sticks cold unsalted butter, cut into chunks
Directions
Combine yolks, grapefruit juice, lemon juice, sugar and half of the zest in a non-reactive saucepan. Whisk until blended. Cook over medium heat until mixture is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon (about 10 minutes). Be sure to stir constantly. Remove from heat, then add salt and the butter, one chunk at a time, stirring until butter is incorporated.
Now at this point, you can add the rest of the zest and leave it as is and it will be sort of a rustic curd. Which is what I did, due to laziness.
Or you can strain it through a fine sieve, then add the rest of the zest. This will remove any weird lumps you may encounter and make your curd super silky and smooth.
Pour into jars (I used an 8 oz mason jar and a 4 oz mason jar) or containers and chill until set (at least 2 hours).
Then eat. All of it. Try to forget about how much butter, egg yolk and sugar there is in this spread. Pretend that because it’s grapefruit, it’s actually like health food.