Chocolate Sriracha Shortbread

It's been a crazy couple of weeks with engagements (eek!), business trips to New York (three words: momofuku pork buns!), and moving (pictures to come!). So it's been exciting and very stressful. When I'm stressed, I bake.

If you've read past posts, you've probably realized that I will find a way to incorporate Sriracha into almost everything I make. It's an illness, really. I've destroyed more than a couple of meals that way.

But, it's not a bad thing if the recipe is supposed to have chili, though right? Why, then I'm just reinterpreting a recipe. And there is nothing wrong with artistic reinterpretations. I just substituted chipotle chili powder with delicious, delicious Sriracha. (On a total side note, oh Gourmet Magazine, why did you have to leave me? Bon Appetit would never have the balls to mix chipotle and chocolate, but there you go mixing it up once again. Come back. Please.)

The recipe was easy, fun, and oh so delicious! Normally I would reduce the sugar in a recipe like this, but the Sriracha can take it, so I left it as is.

Important Note: If you go to the trouble of making shortbread from scratch a day early to allow the flavours to develop a little bit, I highly recommend not leaving them out where a rambunctious kitten (He's two feet long. He weighs more than Simon. He's not a kitten. Don't try telling him this, though) can topple the entire plate onto the floor, breaking every last piece. Just a tip.

Chocolate Stout Chili & Cornbread

The great thing about fall is that there is still wonderful produce available, but it's not too hot to actually cook anything. I generally enjoy cooking autumn and winter dishes more: stews, casseroles, things that cook for a long time over low heat. So, as soon as the weather changed, I was eager to make chili.

There is a lot going on: chocolate stout, jalapenos, chipotle chilies in adobo. Somehow, through the magic of chili, it all becomes this wonderfully cohesive, rich mixture in the end. Plus you get to top it with sour cream and cheddar, and really, what doesn't taste good after being topped with that much full-fat dairy?

Omar gets very impatient when he feels I am not meeting his exacting standards.

On the lighter (ha!) side of the meal, I like to make cornbread. Only it really isn't corn bread, it's corn puddings. Seriously. These little corn-bread muffins are so rich and moist that Martha Stewart calls them puddings. She's not wrong. They are supposed to have corn niblets (like the frozen little pellet-like pieces of corn) in them, but there is something weird about that, so either do it with fresh corn or don't bother putting anything in. Some of the commenters on the recipe page have complained that they are not sweet enough. This is crazy talk. Middle-America, obesity epidemic-type crazy talk. They are plenty sweet.

I love this meal. And I fully encourage adjusting the spiciness with some added Sriracha. Also, use a quality chili powder. It calls for a freakishly large quantity but you can cut back on that if you are using one with actual flavour. You could substitute the beef with ground turkey or tofu, but I can't in good conscience give you my blessing to do so. It just isn't the same without slow-cooked chunks of red meat.

Stracciatella Ice Cream, without an Ice Cream Maker

The temperature outside is a delightful 16 degrees and I couldn't be happier. I know I am in the minority when I say this (and I can practically feel Simon cringe from the other side of the room), but I am no fan of summer. I downright hate it. When I make this proclamation to Simon he points out that I say the same thing in winter (which isn't true; I love winter), and he then begins to list (in a somewhat pleading fashion) his favourite things about summer: cottages, patios, beaches, swimming, bbqs. But I know that any of those tasks performed without a beer in hand loses Simon's interest immediately. And furthermore, each and every of those tasks requires free time - something I've had none of all summer. But then, then he comes up with the one redeeming quality of summer with which no other season can compete: ice cream.

I am something of an ice cream addict. It's an unhealthy vice (as most are) that lately can only be satisfied by a dark chocolate-peanut butter concoction sold at the video store down the street.

So, it's late August. It's 36 degrees inside my apartment. On TV, Rachel freaking Ray is suggesting I make lasagna. The idea of turning the oven on, let alone cooking an entire meal, is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. I decide to make ice cream. For dinner. Without an ice cream maker. I may have been suffering from heatstroke.

Before you think I've gone completely insane in my absence (sorry about that, by the way), you need to know that it can be done. It only takes about 10 hours. The whole game is about stopping the formation of evil ice crystal by whatever means necessary: food processors, wooden spoons, immersion blenders. You can give yourself an advantage by making it a custard-based ice cream using the creamiest cream you can get your sticky little hands on (apparently having a rich base makes the ice crystal formation less difficult to deal with). So once you've made your base, you stick it in the freezer and let the magic happen. Only you stop the magic every hour or so pulverize the ice crystals to death. But I promise, I PROMISE, that if you dutifully and diligently make those ice crystals your enemy, you will be rewarded with deliciously rich, home made ice cream.

I started out making vanilla ice cream, but there is a small part of my brain (inherited from my father) that believes that if there isn't chocolate in it, it isn't dessert (I know it's wrong, and I try to ignore it, but sometimes it makes beautiful things happen). So when my vanilla ice cream was about a third of the way done, I melted some bittersweet chocolate, poured it over the frozen ice cream, and stuck it back in the freezer. Then when you take the immersion blender to the ice cream, the chocolate layer transforms it into delightfully Italian-sounding stracciatella.

 I don't know that I would do this again without an ice cream maker. But at the very least, it's given me yet another reason to purchase my coveted Kitchen Aid Mixer, complete with the ice cream maker attachment.

Dinnertime!

I'm blogging on the go from my fancy new phone.

Yum. Stockyards for dinner. Details to come...