Cooking

Cold Brew Coffee

   Adam Zolkover
Cold Brew Coffee

This may be the shortest, simplest recipe that I’ve ever posted in this space. So short is it that I’ll give you all the ingredients right here: coffee, water, and time. So simple is it that I’d feel a little silly writing about cold brew coffee at all, except that — surprisingly — not a lot of people know you can do it, and lots of folks who do know think that you need some complicated plastic contraption like a Toddy Cold Brew System to make it work.

You can use the Toddy if you want, dear readers, but it’s not necessary. All you need is a mason jar, a coffee grinder, and maybe one or two other items that aren’t vital, but that make filtering and clean-up a wee bit quicker.

Rhubarb-Vanilla Jam Pictorial

   Adam Zolkover
Rhubarb Jam Pictorial

You may consider this, dear readers, act two in the three-act May drama that I’ve come to think of as rhubarb-stravaganza. The tragedy, or perhaps the ecstasy, of being interested in seasonal cooking is that when the window opens for an ingredient — especially if it’s a relatively short window — one must take advantage.

The rhubarb window is open, folks. And here I am, milking it for all it’s worth.

Vanilla Ice Cream with Rhubarb Compote

   Adam Zolkover
Vanilla Ice Cream with Rhubarb Compote

Here are two things about rhubarb that you might not know, that you might find interesting, but that might put you off of using that red, tart, delicious celery lookalike:

Thing one is that the use of rhubarb as food is a relatively recent innovation, dating back in Europe only to the seventeenth century, according to the Wikipedia. Until then, rhubarb was used medicinally — as a laxative. Apparently, in Europe, in China, in the Middle East, and elsewhere, if you went to the doctor complaining of being stopped up, a strong dose of rhubarb was the cure.

Steamed Artichokes with Garlic-Tarragon Mayonnaise

   Adam Zolkover
Steamed Artichokes with Garlic-Tarragon Mayonnaise

When I was a child, steamed artichokes were my very favorite vegetable. Bitter and creamy, almost meaty at their heart, you could give childhood me an artichoke and a little puddle of butter, stand back, and watch in amazement as I picked it clean of all the parts you can possibly eat.

My mother made them on a fairly regular basis. Steamed artichokes were easy and could be done a day ahead. And my own partiality for them aside, both she and my father would devour them with visible pleasure, and sometimes go back for more.

Rabbit Pie

   Adam Zolkover
Rabbit Pie

I’ve been sitting on this recipe for almost a week, now, not because there’s anything wrong with it, but because I haven’t quite been able to figure out how to make it work for this space.

Here’s the problem: last week, with Easter close at hand, with Elizabeth’s post about carrot soup newly live, and with my recent enthusiasm for savory pastry, I made the decision that my next post here at Twice Cooked was going to have to be a rabbit pie. It appealed to my sense of impropriety — a rabbit for Easter! — and it appealed to my sense of propriety, too — a classic early-spring meal, timed just right for the early spring.

Carrot and Coriander Soup, Not Once But Twice

   Elizabeth

When I lived briefly in England, more than ten years ago now, I used to love a wonderful Carrot & Coriander soup. It was bright and light and warm, like spring and fall in the same bowl. And it was everywhere: in the pub, at the sandwich shop, in cartons in the grocery store. And everyone made it well. At least, in my memory they did.

I miss it, on and off. I never see it on menus over here. I never see it in recipe books. I don’t know why my carrot soup hasn’t translated, when potato & leek is so common but so much less interesting.

Charoset, Two Ways

   Adam Zolkover
Charoset, Two Ways

Ask me why Monday night is different from all other nights. Come on — ask me. I got four reasons for you right here.

Bitter vegetables, double dipping, hardtack, and — why I oughta!

But seriously, folks: Monday night is different from all other nights in that it’s the first night of Passover. It is one long, well-ordered feast in which the wine starts dribbling in at sundown, and doesn’t stop flowing until legally-mandated closing time at midnight. And it is — traditionally — my favorite holiday of the year. Or at least, one of them.

Kheer, Vindicated

   Adam Zolkover
Kheer, Vindicated

Did you think, perhaps, that I might leave my kheer experiment like this? Did you think that I could swallow my pride like a spoonful of hot pink pepto bismol, accept my failure with equanimity, and abandon my aspirations toward that creamy, spicy Indian rice pudding in favor of some more comfortable fare? Did you?

Nah. Of course you didn’t. Because you (dear readers!) know me better than that.

Meat Pies with Broccoli Rabe

   Adam Zolkover
Meat Pies with Broccoli Rabe

I’d like to begin by assuring you all that this post in no way promotes cannibalism. Nor cattibalism, neither. It seems as though, as with my quiche lorraine, a great deal rides on a name. And while an empanada might be perfectly innocent, and while a Cornish pasty might pass with little more than a blush and a raised eyebrow, a meat pie is a horse of a different feather.

Food Fail, Kheer Edition

   Adam Zolkover
Food Fail, Kheer Edition

Kheer. Delicious. Cool and creamy on a hot summer’s day, or hardy and fortifying in the winter. Subtly flavored with the warm spiciness of cardamom, with the barest hint of saffron, sometimes with star anise, it’s Indian dessert done just to my taste. Not too sweet. Not too sticky. Just right.

Except this time. This week’s kheer experiment came out … just plain wrong.