Saturday 25 June 2011

Fresh Glazed Peach Pie



So I lied. It took me about three days after I said I was going to make peach pie to actually make my peach pie. But to be fair, I was waiting for my peaches to ripen (heh). In the end, it took me three days to assemble this pie, and that was with help from both my parents (but not my cat, Mashka. She just kind rolled around on the floor seeking to get fed. We did not give her pie.)

I made the pie crust on Thursday night, and the filling and pastry cream on Friday, and then finally, after refrigerating both the filling and the pastry cream over night, assembled the pie on Saturday. I don't think anyone else would need all that time to finish making a pie, but I'm pretty sure I have ADD, so hence, once I'd finished one part of the pie, I'd get distracted and start watching HBO or trying to finish reading "The Exorcist," which has, incidentally, kept me awake for about three nights now.

I spent the better part of an hour trying to find a recipe for a fresh peach pie online, partly because I remember tasting the most delicious peach pie at a family friend's house in Taipei one summer, and partly because I'm really not a fan of warm cooked fruit. Plus, it's peach season here in Beijing, and it just seems a terrible waste to cook these lovely ripe peaches.

This recipe from Salad in a Jar looked amazing (it helps that this woman's pictures are just so pretty), and I used another one of her recipes for the pie crust, which was amazing, and so easy to make. Here's what the pie was supposed to look like: http://www.salad-in-a-jar.com/family-recipes/glazed-fresh-nectarine-or-peach-pie

And here's the crust I used (scroll down to find the pat-in-the-pan crust): http://www.salad-in-a-jar.com/family-recipes/the-best-glazed-fresh-strawberry-pie

Here's what my pie ended up looking like:

I pretty much followed the recipe from Salad in a Jar exactly, only I used lemon jelly instead of peach jelly, because procuring peach jelly in Beijing has so far proved impossible. Granted, I didn't really go on an extensive hunt for peach jelly, but I figured lemon would work just as well, and might cut the sweetness of the recipe a bit anyway. It ended up working out fine, especially when my dad instructed me to add a generous tablespoon of Kirsch to the glaze mixture. That worked out nicely, especially considering people in my family really like their fruit liqueurs. Aside from the jelly and the Kirsch though, I also added a layer of pastry cream under the peaches, another suggestion from my dad, our resident baking guru. The man is a legend, and pretty much all I know about baking (not a whole lot, but enough not to burn a pie crust) comes from having watched him for nearly twenty years.

When I was little, I used to wreak havoc by poking holes in all my dad's freshly baked cakes as they were cooling on wire racks. I have a vague recollection of doing so, in fact, although I only remember doing it once and then getting yelled at, whereas my parents tell me it was a common occurrence. I still like squishing things today, but don't tend to poke my own baked goods for obvious reasons, such as the fact that I'm turning twenty in a month, and that would just be weird.

Anyway, back to baking: for the pastry cream, I just googled a recipe, and found this one, which turned out beautifully: http://allrecipes.com/recipe/pastry-cream-2/



It turned out to be just what the pie needed, although half the pie was filled with pastry cream, which might have been overkill. We didn't have enough peaches in the end though, so the pastry cream served a two-fold purpose. All in all, this was a pretty easy pie to make, just time-consuming. But baking with the family is always fun, and here are some pictures just to prove that I'm not a fraud :)



This is my Dad. According to Bridget Jones's Diary, you should always introduce people with thoughtful detail. My dad teaches Chinese to foreigners in Beijing and reads dictionaries for fun. His other hobbies include piano-playing and playing with Mashka.





Thursday 23 June 2011

Kung Pao Chicken

Every time I watch "Julie & Julia," I can't help but list the similarities between me and the first titular character. We're both writers who have never finished anything, we're both on the upper end of the emotional sensitivity spectrum, and we both look to cooking as a means of escape from humdrum everyday life. To be honest, I don't think my parents ever thought they'd live to see the day when their only child made something other than scrambled eggs (I remember my mom telling practically everyone we knew that at least I wouldn't starve in college because I knew how to make one thing, and could therefore be trusted not to burn the house down). However, desperate times call for desperate measures, and surprisingly, after running around like some kind of manic nut-job after a day of preparation for the impending new school year, I made my first-ever unsupervised dish last August at my friend Alasdair's house.

The dish was kung pao chicken, adapted from my dad's own recipe. I say adapted only because I spent about an hour running around Tesco, trying to find the ingredients. In the end, I decided regular black peppercorns were just as good as Szechuan peppercorns, which I was never going to find at a regular Tesco. I returned to the flat in a huff, after spending about £12, and started chopping up the chicken thigh fillets I'd bought. By the time I started on that last thigh, I could not wait to never cook again. But something happened when that first drop of cooking oil hit the quintessential IKEA wok that no student should go without: I started enjoying this cooking thing. Sure, it had taken me the better part of half an hour to chop up all that chicken with a semi-dull blade, but once the icky, potentially salmonella-tainted part of the process was over, the frying and the stirring was actually remarkably fun.

Now, I know that when starting a food blog, it's probably bad form to publish the first post without a picture, but to be completely honest, I've not made my kung pao chicken (usually made with rice as kung pao chicken fried rice) for a few months now. Probably a good thing, as for a while, that was the only dish I knew how to make (aside from scrambled eggs).

Anyway, here's my recipe for kung pao chicken fried rice, adapted from my dad's kung pao chicken recipe. If you're not into rice, like I am, considering my half-Asian background, you can skip the last couple of ingredients and steps.

- 3-4 chicken breast or thigh fillets (or more, depending on how many people you're trying to feed)
- Peanuts or cashews (if you have friends with nut allergies, i.e. my friend Neil, you can skip this bit, but if not, it adds a nice crunch to the recipe, especially if you use pre-fried ones)
- Cornstarch/corn flour
- Cooking wine (if you want Chinese cooking wine, Shaoshing Wine is the most popular kind, but really, any kind of cooking wine will do - whiskey, dry sherry, fortified wine...)
- Sesame oil
- White vinegar
- Light soy sauce (dark is usually a bit too sweet)
- Dried whole red chilis (optional - I usually skip this, since not all my friends like spicy things)
- Whole Szechaun peppercorns (you'll need to go to a Chinese grocery store for these, I'm afraid. And contrary to what I originally believed, regular peppercorns are not an adequate substitute, so if you can't get these bad boys, just skip this ingredient. I usually do when I'm cutting corners anyway)
- 2 cloves of garlic, crushed or sliced
- 1 or 2 spring onion stalks, with the white and green parts separated and diced
- Sugar
- Salt
- Cooking oil
STOP HERE IF YOU'RE NOT INTERESTED IN FRIED RICE
- Beansprouts (about half a pack)
- 1-2 eggs
- Approx. 50g of rice for each person you are trying to feed - cook the rice ahead of time and ensure that it is cold for frying
- More soy sauce

Directions:

1. Cut/snip the chicken fillets into 1/2-inch chunks (a little bigger if you're using breast meat). Alternatively, you could just get pre-diced chicken breasts from Sainsbury's, which might save you some time. Then put your chicken chunks in a medium sized bowl and add 2 teaspoons of soy sauce, a pinch of salt, 1/2 teaspoon of sesame oil, and a teaspoon of corn flour. Mix well and set aside.

2. In a small bowl, put your garlic, white spring onion, 2 tablespoons of sugar, a pinch of salt, 2 tablespoons of vinegar, 1 teaspoon of cooking wine, 2 tablespoons of soy sauce, a splash of sesame oil, and a teaspoon of cornstarch, and mix until the sugar is pretty much dissolved. Set aside.

3. (Note: you can skip this step if you're leaving out the Szechaun peppercorns and just put some oil in your wok here) Heat 4 tablespoons of cooking oil in a non-stick pan, and add the Szechaun peppercorns. Cook them for a couple of minutes, until they're sizzling and fragrant (it's okay if they turn black), and then turn off the heat. Carefully scoop out the peppercorns and toss them, leaving the flavoured cooking oil in your pan.

4. (Note: you can skip this step if you're going mild and leaving out the red chilis) Over medium-high heat, fry 5 to 8 dried red chilis until they are almost black.

5. Add the chicken to your oil and stir constantly, scraping the sides of the pan. Cook until the chicken pieces have all turned white on the outside (about 2 to 4 mins).

6. Give the vinegar-sugar-soy mix you set aside earlier a few stirs and dump it all onto the chicken - stir well to prevent the cornstarch from clumping.

7. Cook for a minute, add your green spring onion, and then cook for another minute, or until the chicken is JUST done through and the sauce has coated the chicken. You can adjust the thickness of the sauce by adding more vinegar and soy to thin, or adding a little cornstarch pre-mixed with a little water to thicken the sauce. And voila, your chicken is done. At this point, I like to add beansprouts just to stir things up, although beansprouts definitely are NOT part of the original Chinese recipe for kung pao chicken. In some restaurants here, you'll find cucumber in the dish, but I'm generally not a fan of warm cucumber.

8. If you're continuing on to make fried rice, there's two ways to do it. You can either add your cold rice directly to your chicken, or you can make a separate fried rice in another wok and then have the two side by side. If you're making your rice in a separate wok, add about 4 tablespoons of cooking oil to the pan first. If not, just chuck the rice directly in with the chicken.

9. Stir constantly, and after 1-2 minutes, make a well in the centre of all your rice. In a separate bowl, lightly beat your eggs, and then chuck them into the well. Scramble your eggs in the well. They don't have to be completely scrambled. It's all right to just let the egg cook with the rice over the next few minutes.

10. Add a generous helping of soy sauce to the mixture, and taste for saltiness.

11. Top with some more green spring onion, and stir, stir stir. And then bam, you're done :D

And there you have it, my first recipe. One that I shamelessly stole from my dad and then butchered. But at least people seem to like it, so perhaps all hope is not lost.

I realise that with a food blog, I run the risk of sounding like a major heffer, which I am willing to admit I am. But, having proven the freshman fifteen myth to be the most ridiculous lie ever concocted by worried parents, I am not exactly willing to gain back the twenty-some pounds I lost after going to uni. I've already bought new clothes. Plus, I really don't want to have that awkward moment when I return to Scotland and see my boyfriend for the first time in about three months and get the "Oh wow...you look...um...different" look after he sees that the dress size I went down during the last stressful essay week l had has come back, and then some.

Then of course there's the budget issue. As a rent-paying, international student attending a Scottish university, I can't really afford to spend a ridiculous amount of money on an overly lavish meal plan (although I will probably doing just that come Thanksgiving this year). Thus, I will not be cooking my way through Julia Child's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking," as much as I love Julia Child.

And so, this blog shall be a weekly, and most likely later-on fortnightly endeavour, just to keep me on my toes.

So, what's the next thing I'm tackling? Fresh glazed peach pie. I'm going to start on a crust in a little while, and then do the filling as my crust is baking. Tomorrow, I'll tell you, my potentially non-existent readers, how it goes :)