Long Time, No See: Hot Cross Buns

Homemade Pysanky eggs

Whoa. Jeebus christcake. Haven't been here for

 a while.

I have an excuse! I was sick, then high school started, then breaks and Disneyland and homework and dances and friends and insomnia and... life got in the way. I've also lost my cooking/baking drive a bit, so we'll see how this goes.

But this is the prominent baked good in our house at the moment. Hot Cross Buns... mmmm....

We make them every year. Usually during Lent, but we've been late this year and its closer to Easter than anything else. But my spring is not complete without them.

HOT CROSS BUNS

Makes 18-24 buns

2 packages yeast

1/2 cup very warm water (105-115ºF)

1/4 cup warm milk (90ºF)

1/2 cup vegetable oil

1/3 cup sugar

1 1/2 tsp. salt

3 1/2 to 4 cups unbleached flour

1/2 tsp. cinnamon

1/2 tsp. nutmeg

3 eggs, beaten lightly

1 cup raisins

1 egg white

pinch of salt

3/4 cup powdered sugar

1/4 tsp. vanilla

Place yeast and warm water in bowl of mixer and stir to dissolve the yeast. Let stand for three minutes.

Add milk, oil, sugar and 1 1/2 tsp. salt to the yeast mixture and stir to combine. Set aside.

In another bowl, mix one cup flour, cinnamon, and nutmeg together. Stir flour ixture into yeast mixture with a whisk until well combined. Stir in the eggs. Now using a dough hook, gradually stir in 2 1/2 to 3 cups flour -- just enough to make a very soft, pliable dough.

Place dough on a lightly floured surface and knead for 5-7 minutes. Return dough to bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and let rest for 20 minutes.

Knead dough again for 1-2 minutes (until smooth and elastic but not too firm). Gently flatten dough into a rectangle one inch thick. Spread raisins over rectangle. Fold the mass into an envelope and knead just until raisins are well distributed.

Shape dough into loose ball and p;ace in a lightly oiled bowl. Turn the dough to coat the top with oil and cover bowl with oiled plastic wrap. Let dough rise at room temperature until doubled in volume -- about 1 1/2 to 2 hours.

Line two baking sheets with parchment. When sough had doubled in bulk, place it on a floured surface and divide into 18 even pieces (cut it into thirds, then in thirds again, then in half). Shape the pieces into small round buns. Place on pans. Cover loosely with oiled plastic wrap ad let rise at room temperature until almost doubled in volume -- 45 minutes to an hour.

Preheat over to 400ºF. Whisk together egg white and pinch of salt. When buns have doubled in bulk, make a shallow cross on the top of each bun with a sharp knife (try a serrated knife). Brush buns lightly with egg wash and reserve the remaining egg wash. Place pans in oven (use two ovens -- don't try to double up in one). Using a spray bottle, mist top and side of each oven with water 6-8 times and quickly close oven door. After 3 minutes, mist again.

Bake for 10 minutes; reduce heat to 350ºF, and bake for 5-10 minutes longer, or until buns have turned a nice golden brown. Transfer buns to rack and let cool for 5 minutes.

Combine reserved egg wash with powdered sugar and vanilla. Add water, if needed, to make frosting workable. While rolls and still warm, use a pastry bag fitted with a small plain tip to make a cross of frosting over the cross on each bun. These buns freeze well.

Watashi no "Lavu Afe-a": My Love Affair

I never did say anything about Japan, did I? Oh, yes, right... I have a one-paragraph beginning rotting in my post repository. Well, it'll never get written, I can tell you that. I am probably one of the world's worst procrastinators. Unless I have it written in front of my face in a homework log that I have to do it, it won't get done. Unless it's actually fun to do...

Oh, I'm sorry, let me introduce my lover (or lahvahhh, if you are a Sex and the City fan). This is 日本のおにぎり: Japanese Onigiri. He is my new flame, and we were inseparable for three days straight in Japan. And now, in the US, I've found him again, and even found the most sensual of delights: making onigiri myself.

But first, I must backtrack months and months ago, to our class's preliminary trip to Japantown, SF, for a scavenger hunt. *cue dreamy harp music and rippling screen*

It was lunchtime... and this year's graduating class was hungry (as usual). Some went to restaurants... some went to food stands... others went to a Japanese general store. I followed my friends to the store, and stood, nonplussed, in the refrigerator aisle, looking at the bounty of choices. Should I try the strange looking rice wrapped in tofu? Or a bento box? Or those funny looking green triangles, the rice balls that all of my friends seemed to be snatching up...

Unfortunately, I stuck to safety and got a rice bowl with teriyaki chicken (always the adventurer...). But from then, my curiosity was peaked for these popular rice balls. Unfortunately, I loathe their most popular filling, salmon, and all strong fishy tastes. That plus seaweed? Ugh, forget it.

But, but, but! Fast forward to our second week in Japan, the first day of the big groups all together, after our homestays. We were set loose in a market in Osaka to find lunch, and I had my heart set of trying onigiri, or bust...

I was excited, my heart leaping with joy as two friends and I wandered up and down the marketplace, smelling delicious things, and conspicuously pointing our fingers at things that looked gross (so American). After fifteen minutes of unabashed sightseeing, we walked into a grocery store to find something we could eat in the market, so as to resume our indulgence of strange new sights.

We found ourselves in the pre-packaged section, where my friends picked up containers of tempura and sushi rolls. However, I was drawn, inexplicably to the shelves of green triangles. There were several different kinds, it seemed, for there were many different colors of wrappers. I decided to face my fears.

"Which one is edible?" I asked my friend. He frowned, and inspected the array. He pointed to a pink-wrapped one with the word "sake" on it. "Sake," besides being a strong alcoholic drink that should not be served below 90º F, means salmon. And, it's pronounced "sa-KAY" in the correct Japanese, NOT "sa-KEE," as most Americans seem to think.

Swallowing hard, I picked up the onigiri, got a drink, and purchased them. My friends followed shortly. We searched for a place to eat, and finally ended up sneaking into another restaurant, something like a Japanese Subway.

I began to unwrap the onigiri, which was hard. It turns out there's a trick to it: they give you a little plastic strip to pull, and the plastic just comes right off, leaving the seaweed wrapped neatly around the rice. But I didn't know this. Out came the ball of rice, and out came the seaweed. I gingerly wrapped the rice in the seaweed, said a prayer, took a breath, and took a bite.

It wasn't bad, I had to admit. I took another bite, then another, and another. Then I hit the salmon in the center, which was salty and perfect. I finished off my rice ball with no difficulty, except I peeled of some of the leftover seaweed, which I hate by itself. But from then on, onigiri and I were in love.

I had onigiri again the next day, and the day after that... 

The third day, we found a little shop in Takayama. We were starving, and the restaurant we were planning to go to was closed. My four-person walking group was about done walking, we were so hungry and tired, and when we finally saw the tiny little man and wife in the tiny little shop, we felt like celebrating.

We tried to make him understand that we wanted four onigiri, two with salmon, two with rice only, for out two vegetarians. My friend "C" and I struggled with our Japanese.

Me: Anou... {Ummm...} Ni? sake to onigiri kudasai? {Two (wrong form of number) onigiri with salmon?}

Man: *looked amused* Futatsu sake to? {Two (correct form of number) with salmon?}

Me: Yeah, hai, hai.

C: Chotto matte kudasai {Wait a minute, please}. To... futatsu onigiri.... gohan dake... {And...two onigiri... rice only}

Me:  Yeah, gohan only...

Finally, we got it across what we wanted. I waited for him to hand us some prepackaged onigiri, but it was to my surprise when he and his wife went to the back of the shop and began to make them by hand.

They were handed back to us in clear plastic takeout containers. We embarrassedly thanked the shopkeepers, and sat down on spindly chairs at a little table outside the booth/store. We bit into our onigiri. They were probably the best thing we'd tasted on the trip so far; the rice was still warm; the salmon seemed freshly cooked and seasoned. It was delicious.

Almost six months later, my craving for the salty delight became so overwhelming that I just had to have it again. I tried a packaged one, but it was disgusting. So, I decided to make it myself. With the help of a friend who also went to Japan with her own school, we used the molds I bought two months ago at Daiso Japan.

So, here is our rough procedure:

Cook some sushi rice according to the package (don't add anything to it; onigiri usually is made with plain rice).

Put about a tablespoon of butter on a glass baking dish and place in a hunk of salmon. Salt generously, and bake in a 350 or 400º oven (can't remember which, sorry)

Once the salmon is fully cooked, about 10 minutes, let it cool. Then flake it into a bowl.

Place some rice in the bottom of a mold and top it with about a tablespoon of salmon. Cover the rest with rice. Replace the lid of the mold and press. Unmold, and wrap in nori (seaweed).

You can shape these by hand, but this is much easier. Itadakimasu! (Japanese version of bon appètit)

What Can I Say...

My mom is having a proper luncheon, and asked me to bake some bread for it (probably not because I'm any better than her, but just because she had enough going on already). The luncheon will feature a multitude of salads: curried chicken salad, cucumber salad, fruit salad, then my bread and butter and cookies (if we can find some to bake at the last minute).

I decided do stand by an old friend, and bake some Rosemary Raisin Bread, but without the raisins. However, I used rosemary from my own garden! Whoohoo! (Please understand: I am awful at gardening, but I love herbs. It is a happy day when my five new plants actually get water, and don't almost die before I resuscitate them) I haven't tasted the bread yet, but just HAD to post these pictures:

By the by... I draw, too

Well, what can I say?

It was just so perfect and cute. Cute bread, perfect bread... Or, in Japanese: かわいいパン！

I actually kissed it once. It was that adorable.

Starbucks

Starbucks Coffee is a subject of constant deliberation. Some love it, some hate it, some go there for the fact that it's there, some avoid the consumerism-driven at all costs. I happen to be among those who love it.

I am between 13 and 16 years old. I do not drink black coffee. I hate espresso, I hate strong coffee flavors in anything but ice cream. I am tiny, so I have to drink decaf, or my body would overload. I don't care if Starbucks is for "people who hate coffee," because, in truth, I do hate coffee. If you love your coffee strong and in huge quantities, be my guest; go to Peet's.

Starbucks is for the people who need comfort. I don't care if I have a long string of drink modifications attached to my image in Starbucks: "Oh, it's the tall-decaf-peppermint-mocha girl, or the tall-mint-chocolatey-chip-frappuchino-no-whip girl." In fact, I like it. Like Meg Ryan, in You've Got Mail, I see that everyone in a Starbucks has defined themselves with their drinks. Our unending streams of decafs and shots and extra rooms and whip creams are just extra modifiers to describe who we are as human beings.

For example: my dad. He likes his coffee black, with room and cream. I don't know what that means about him, but it does, somehow, miraculously seem to fit him as a person.  My decaf peppermint mocha, which I order all year round, shows I am nostalgic for the Christmas season, when peppermint flavorings abound in every corner of the food market.

Starbucks is also good for the younger population. We teens have found a tasty place to get a fantastic concoction called a frappuchino. It's like a milkshake, but with so many different flavors (and tastier, too), and they look so stylish when you're walking down the mall. Starbucks is the teen culture's touchstone. We can get the slightly grown-up flavors of coffee, but mask them with fun: caramel macciatos, mochas, mint-mocha frappuchinos.

So, I do not hate Starbucks. I love going into my local shop at 6:45 during the school year, and making eye contact with the barista.

"One tall decaf peppermint mocha?" she'll say. I'll nod, and order a scone or croissant for breakfast. We'll chat as she places the pastry into that novelty Starbucks bag (one reason why I love actually going to Starbucks rather than just making my own mochas and scones at home), and I'll tell her about why on earth I come in this early (my school is far away), and she'll tell me about some funny incident yesterday. And I set off for school, balancing my scone on my lap, and sipping my peppermint mocha, remembering Christmases and Day After Thanksgivings. So, Starbucks is good.

What a Trip!

So, if you read my previous post, you might know that almost a month ago, my mom and I embarked on a cross-America road trip. We were gone for nearly four weeks, and boy! It was a blast!

We went to a lot of national parks, including Yosemite, Badlands, Mount Rushmore, Petrified Forest, and Yellowstone. They were all fantastic. We stayed in tiny towns (Marion, IL), and in big ones (Las Vegas, NV). From Hiltons to little Indian-themed motels. We were everywhere.

I don't have time to go through everything we did: I'd probably bore you to tears. But, I'll include our standout eating experiences.

Santa Fe, NM: La Boca

I found this restaurant on Trip Advisor. It was dimly lit and very romantic: I wish my mom were my date instead. It was tapas style, which was new to me. We ordered a large salad that had feta, figs, olives, and was dressed with honey, and shared a plate of hummus and pita. I swear, it was the best hummus I have ever eaten in my life. It had carrots, which cut down the spiciness a bit. Gracious, it was addicting. We also shared a fresh pasta dish wish wild mushrooms and duck. The sauce was rich and... almost musky, but not in a gross way! It was so delicious, I may write Bon Appetit for the recipe!

I feel like I am under-describing the soothing and wonderful atmosphere of the place. It was a bit pricey, but after a week of eating out of our car cooler and at tiny  hotel discount restaurants, we were ready for a treat. The food was so fantastic, I don't think my writing is doing it justice. Go there. I command you.

Memphis, TN: The Rendezvous and Earnestine and Hazel's

Ernestine and Hazel's was our lunch destination. It was recommended to us by my cousin-in-law, who swears they have the best Soul Burgers on the face of the earth. It probably would not pass any building codes in San Francisco, I can tell you that. The shell of wall and ceiling is veined with pipes and electrical wires. The wall on one side is plastered with pictures of stars who have visited, and old jazz singers' portraits cluster around an ancient jukebox. The few tables are attended by a single server, probably the owner.

We sat down, and the young man walked to our table. "Two soulburgers?" he asked in a languid Memphis drawl. My mom and I stared at him.

"Well, what else do you have?" I stuttered, hoping that I wouldn't have to eat even more beef than I'd already been exposed to on this trip.

He chuckled and almost grinned "That's about all we have. With or without cheese." Dumbfounded, we found ourselves ordering two soulburgers, topped with whatever he recommended. When it came to drinks, I asked for a milk. They didn't have milk, so I asked for Sprite. They were out. I got water.

Finally, the burgers came. They looked completely ordinary. But one bite told us this was definitely not so. They were loaded with onions and cheese, but no frilly lettuce or tomatoes. Artery clogging grease, too? Of course.

They were the best burgers we have ever had. Period.

When it came time to leave the scorching heat of Memphis, we got dry ribs to go at the Rendezvous. Located in a basement in a tiny alley behind a hotel, it is the city's best-kept secret.

We drove farther north, towards Illinois and got to my cousin's house by dinner. We played with her adorable two-year old and ate our ribs, very rudely, at her kitchen counter. Good god, they were delicious. The beans and rolls that came with them were great, too, but the ribs are my new favorites. We stayed up until midnight talking and watching Iron Chef. I love my cousin; she is practically the only one in my family who will actually treat me as an adult.

We got up late the next day and ate Alton Brown's pancakes. I repeat: I love my cousin.

Sikeston, MO: Lambert's

Lamberts: Home of the Throwed Rolls! Since I am too lazy to type it, here is the background story. This was quite an experience! We got there around 1:40, there was a 45 minute wait! We were starving, but once we got in, service was fast.

There were murals all over the walls of town and saloon scenes, people eating huge platters of southern favorites, and servers walking everywhere, carrying huge bowls of free sides and pushing carts filled with hot, mushroom-like rolls. We sat down, placed our orders, and waited. A man pushing a roll cart stood about ten feet away.

"Hot rolls! Throwed rolls!" he bellowed. I held up my hand to him, and he launched a puffy, oven-fresh roll at me. He threw another to my mom. A server spooned gooey sorghum right onto our paper towel napkins, and we ate it with the rolls. More healthy food for us! (we ended up buying a jar of sorghum)

The food was fantastic. My mom and I both ordered fried chicken, and they came on HUGE platters; one would have been enough to share between three people. I didn't try many of the free sides, but my mom did, and she said they were fantastic. Best southern food we had on the trip. Next time, though, I would just assume get something I really don't care about, that's cheap, and just eat out of the free sides, since they seemed to be the best things there.

We went to many other restaurants, some good, some bad, but those were our standout experiences. We're doing the east coast next year, so if you have any suggestions of good restaurants in New York, Maine, Rhode Island, New England, etc. please tell me!

A Sacrificial Offering: Cherry and Chocolate Chip Cookies

Okay, half of this is an explanation, and half of it is me acting like Martha Stewart. You'll see why.

First, the explanation. I didn't post my Barefoot Bloggers recipe last week because I've been sick and going to ridiculous amounts of unrelated doctors appointments. Why do they have to group all the checkups, sport physicals, blood tests, etc. into the same week? Ugh... I won't be baking or cooking for a bit, either, folks. Sorry.

I also will probably have to withdraw completely from the Barefoot Bloggers because I've already used up one of my side-out passes, and we're going on a month long road trip a week from today. There will be no chance to fulfill the cooking requirements on the road, even when we are staying with relatives. So, no point being in the group when I can't even do the posts. I know, it's sad. I'll re-join later.

And now, the Martha Stewart bit. We went to Whole Foods today, because we needed groceries, and we were near one. I love Whole Foods. It feels so eco-friendly and healthy in there (even though it probably isn't). They also have a much better selection, I think, than any other store.

We splurged! We bought, well, actually not that much stuff, but it was fun! We got veggies and brioche (!) and english muffins (whole wheat and cinnamon raisin) and granola. To put in the granola we bought dried date bits rolled in oat flour and dried strawberries and pecans. It was exciting! (Yes, I know you're probably backing away)

I have actually never had granola. Well, I did once on a camping trip, but it turned the milk purple. It was so gross, I dug a hole and buried the rest of it.

So, when we got home, I looked at our fruit bowl, which has various plums and peaches and such in there. There were also about two other bags of dried fruits, like some squishy old dates and a variety bag from the farmer's market. They looked very messy sitting in the bowl, so I moved everything to jars, as well as the newly purchased nuts and dried fruits. I chopped up the old dates and rolled them in sugar. And I put all the jars in the cabinet with the bags of granola and my mom's carefully labeled tupperwares of chocolate chips and raisins.

I swear it looks like something right outta' Martha Stewart Living. Of course my crap photo skills don't do it justice. I can't wait for breakfast tomorrow just so I can lustily unscrew those jars of dried fruit and mix them into a bowl of granola and milk. Oooo...

And, finally, I have a recipe. My mom had a girls' lunch last Monday, which left me with the kitchen (and the house) all to myself. I made some cookies that I'd had my eye on for a while: Cherry and Chocolate Chip Cookies in Bon Appetit July 2008.

They involved soaking the cherries in kirsch, which was exciting. No drunk teens here!

Hrm, anyways, the verdict? Not fantastic. Despite all the extra to-do about brown sugar and almond extract, they really just tasted like normal chocolate chip cookies with cherries thrown in. I couldn't even taste the almond extract. I opted to use dark chocolate instead of white, because I absolutely loathe white chocolate. So, whatever. I'm far too lazy to post the recipe, so here's someone who did: Nicole at Slashfood.

Ah, Bon Appetit just arrived in the mail. Off I go.

Epitome of Summer

Shamelessly advertising Dorie Greenspan

{Open scene} 

{In the car, driving to a lesson on Tuesday morning}

*Phone rings. The driver picks up.*

Driver {Mom}: Hi, darlin' {or whatever pet name she regularly calls my dad}

Dad: Hi. Hand the phone to Abigail.

*Mom shoves phone into Abigail's face. She pauses her Nightwish and takes it*

Abigail: Yeah? {I am on the short-winded side of my family}

Dad: Can you make lemon poppyseed scones? I got one from Starbucks and it's too sweet.

Abigail: *chuckles* Yeah, of course

{End scene}

So, this is how I found myself dragging my lazy body out of bed at 8:30 yesterday morning to make scones. Saturday mornings are for sleeping in, and 8:30 is, for me, sleeping in. I wake up at 5:30 most school days, so the summer is ridiculously relaxing. Pink-cheeked and with wildman's hair, I trooped into the kitchen in my Singapore t-shirt, Tweety shorts and fuzzy green socks. Morning cooking knows no apron.

I have a standby recipe for scones that is wonderful. I first came upon it when I was looking for a recipe that had the same ingredients as Starbucks blueberry scones, which I was trying to reproduce. I found it on Oswego Tea. Her recipe used milk instead of buttermilk, which I substituted in, and had no baking soda, which I have started adding, since it cancels out the sourness of the buttermilk slightly and adds a lot of extra rise. I am now proud to call my modified recipe my own.

So, the recipe was easy. Adding lemon zest and poppyseeds was easy, and the lemon poppyseed scones were done! But, if I were to completely fulfill my destiny as a Starbucks maniac, I told myself, I would make vanilla bean scones. So, out comes the lone vanilla bean in my mom's spice rack.

I found a few good pointers for making these ones at Cookie Baker Lynn. She has her own Starbucks copycat recipe for the vanilla bean scones, and I borrowed her ideas. I used half of the horribly dried out vanilla bean in the scone dough. It wasn't a very fresh or fragrant bean, so I also added a dash of vanilla powder. I added a teaspoon of vanilla extract to the buttermilk and egg. Then they were in the oven.

And so the fun part began. The fun of the Starbucks scones in the glaze. I love how it crunches slightly, and I love the taste. So I concocted a lemon poppyseed glaze and used Lynn's recipe for a vanilla glaze, adding a little vanilla extract along with the milk for extra vanilla punch.

The scones, needless to say, are fantastic. I made them extra small, so I could have one of each for breakfast, but you could make them whopper size like Starbucks. I personally can't even finish one of those...

Yum-zors

VANILLA BEAN SCONES

Makes 8 large scones, or about 24 small ones

3 cups all purpose flour
Scant 1/2 cup sugar
4 tsp. baking powder
1/8 tsp. baking soda
1/8 tsp. salt
2 sticks chilled butter, cut into small pieces
1 vanilla bean, cut in half, scraped
1/2 tsp. lemon zest
1 large egg
1/2 cup buttermilk

1/4 cup powdered sugar

1/4 tsp. vanilla

2-4 tsp. milk

Oven: 350F.

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Combine the dry ingredients in a large bowl and mix well. Add the vanilla beans and mix until evenly distributed. {Note: a Cuisinart works best for this}. Cut in butter until it is the size of small peas.

Whisk the egg and buttermilk together with the vanilla. Add to the dry ingredients and mix and fold until the dough masses and the flour is absorbed.

Divide the dough in two and shape each into a ball. Pat each one into a 6 to 7 inch circle on a lightly floured surface. Roll to approximately 1 1/2 inches thick and cut into whatever size you want. If you want to make smaller scones, pat the dough into a rectangular shape, cut in half horizontally, and cut each half into about six triangles. {Note: These almost double in size while baking, so cut them small. As a rule, the bigger you cut them, the more they expand.}

Bake until firm to the touch and slightly golden, about 25 to 30 minutes.

While they bake, mix together the powdered sugar, milk, vanilla, and the rest of the vanilla bean seeds. When the scones are cool, brush the glaze on them.

LEMON POPPYSEED SCONES

Makes 8 large scones, or about 24 small ones

3 cups all purpose flour
Scant 1/2 cup sugar
4 tsp baking powder
1/8 tsp baking soda
1/8 tsp salt

1 T. lemon zest

2 sticks chilled butter, cut into small pieces
2 T. poppyseeds
1 large egg
1/2 cup buttermilk

1/4 cup powdered sugar

1-2 tsp. lemon juice

1 tsp. poppyseeds

Oven: 350F.

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Combine the dry ingredients in a large bowl and mix well. Add the lemon zest and mix until well incorporated. {Note: a Cuisinart works best for this}. Cut in butter until it is the size of small peas. Stir in the poppyseeds.

Whisk the egg and buttermilk together. Add to the dry ingredients and mix and fold until the dough masses and the flour is absorbed.

Divide the dough in two and shape each into a ball. Pat each one into a 6 to 7 inch circle on a lightly floured surface. Roll to approximately 1 1/2 inches thick and cut into whatever size you want. If you want to make smaller scones, pat the dough into a rectangular shape, cut in half horizontally, and cut each half into about six triangles. {Note: These almost double in size while baking, so cut them small. As a rule, the bigger you cut them, the more they expand.}

Bake until firm to the touch and slightly golden, about 25 to 30 minutes.

While they bake, mix together the powdered sugar, lemon juice, and poppyseeds. When the scones are cool, brush the glaze on them.