Fearless Kitchen

Recipe: Cabbage and Squash Rice

Well, I should have known better.  First I took two foods that I have never loved: winter squash and cabbage.  I figured, "Oh, I'll cook something with them.  A side dish."  I ran out of brown rice so I went to a certain very large chain of warehouse "club" stores and I got this huge, massive sack of brown rice.  I figured it would be the same as any other bulk brown rice.  Wrong.  Wrong wrong wrong.  I should have remembered the last time that I bought rice at this large warehouse chain.  I got the most incredibly glutinous rice I have ever seen.  It stuck better than glue and had about as much flavor.  I did, actually, remember it when I was shopping.  I don't remember who did the dissuading, though.  It could have been The Spouse, but it could just as easily have been me who said, "Oh, what the heck.  How bad can it be?"  I didn't think brown rice could stick this badly!  There are more disasters to come with the brown rice, don't you worry, but we can save those for another day.  Or days.  I've certainly got a large enough bin of the stuff to keep you entertained for weeks.

Anyway, for our New Year's Eve dinner I decided that I would cook up the cabbage and the squash and mix them into the rice.  This would provide a delicious, nutritious side dish to delight and amaze our acquaintance.  And to be quite honest if the guests are to be believed I'm probably the only one who didn't like this.  No one commented on the sub-par rice, at least, and people seemed to really enjoy the cabbage and squash.  I used celery seeds instead of caraway seeds because that's what I could find - I think I'm out of caraway - and maybe that had something to do with my distaste.  Anyway, I suppose this does make a decent side dish if you like cabbage, or caraway.

Cabbage and Squash Rice (serves 8; approx. $0.54/serving)

2 cups long-grain brown rice

4 cups water

1 head Savoy cabbage, shredded

1/2 butternut squash, diced

1 cup vegetable broth

2 tablespoons celery seeds

Equipment:

• Medium saucepan with lid
• Large wok with lid

1. Combine the rice and the water in the saucepan and bring to a boil.
2. Reduce heat to low and let simmer until the liquid has been completely absorbed by the rice.  I prefer to judge this by appearance rather than time - different pans and even different rices cook differently.  For that reason I usually use a glass lid when cooking rice.  Use whatever works for you, though.  I'd guess it generally takes about 40 minutes.
3. Meanwhile, bring the broth to a boil in the wok.
4. Add the squash.  Reduce heat to low, cover and let steam about 10 minutes.
5. Add the cabbage.  Cook with the lid off until the cabbage is tender.
6. When the rice is ready, transfer the contents of both pots to the serving vessel.  Mix well and serve.

Recipe: Medieval Quince "Pie"

Recipe Source: Welserin, Sabina.  Das Kuchbuch der Sabina Welserin.  Germany, 16th Century.  Find the original here.

So you already know that I've been playing with quinces a lot lately.  I truly love them, and I get a bushel of them in the fall and just go to town.  I try to find new and different uses for them, although my quince and rosemary jelly is a perennial favorite with my friends.  I love quinces in savory recipes.  In my head they're mostly a Greek or Middle Eastern fruit, although I'm not sure why I should think that.  They certainly grow in cooler climates such as New England.  I decided to force myself to move outside my usual sources and find a non-Middle Eastern recipe calling for quince.  I also wanted to make a medieval recipe for one of our Sunday dinners, so this one seemed to make sense.  After all, I thought, I've made other recipes from this cookbook and I've been delighted with the results.

I was differently enthusiastic about this one, and by "differently enthusiastic" I mean "frustrated and angered by."  I used my traditional family crust but in a whole-wheat version - I'd made several ahead of time for some other reason, so I had them just sitting in the fridge waiting to be used up.  Otherwise I just kind of went to town.  Unfortunately the crust failed miserably.  I did wind up serving it, but scooped onto plates and treated like poached fruit.  I think that the liquid in the filling was just too much for the poor little crust to handle.

My guests loved this.  If I stopped trying to think of it as a pie I loved it too.

Medieval Quince "Pie" (serves 8; approx. cost per serving not available)

1 single-crust pie crust - store bought is fine

4 nice quinces, peeled, halved and cored

1/2 cup currants

1/4 cup raw sugar

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon ground cloves

Beef fat - however much you can get, rendered from a package of beef bacon should be sufficient

1/2 cup dessert wine

1/2 cup raw sugar

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon ground cloves

Equipment:

• Pie plate
• Bowl
• Large deep skillet

1. Preheat your oven to 425°.
2. Render out your beef fat to the best of your ability.
3. Fry the quince halves in the fat until they are fragrant.
4. Line your pie plate with your pie crust.
5. Arrange your quince halves in the pie plate.
6. Combine the currants, first 1/4 cup raw sugar, first 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon and 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves.  Stuff the quince cavities with this mixture.
7. In the skillet, combine the remaining ingredients.  Cook until the sugar is dissolved, then add to the pie plate.
8. Bake until the quinces are tender, about 40 minutes.
9. Serve.

Recipe: Turkey and Winter Vegetable Stew

Recipe Source: Lawson, Jane.  The Spice Bible.  Stewart, Tabori & Chang, 2008 p. 122

This was not intended to be a stew.  It was intended to be a savory pie.  I guess that this type of pie is very much like a stew, in the fine medieval tradition of pie, but at the end of the day this was intended to be consumed with a crust and it wasn't.  It was consumed as is thanks to a catastrophic pastry failure.  The pastry had been resting in my refrigerator for quite some time - days upon days.  Ordinarily this would result in a pastry disc so hard and immutable that it would bring tears to the eyes.  The rest of the discs in this batch certainly turned out this way, let me tell you.  This time they didn't.  They remained soft and fragile, a cross between the lather on a fine sink full of dishes and delicate blown glass.  They would not be put into the pie plate.  They only fell apart under my clumsy fingers.

I probably could have salvaged something of the pastry.  I didn't.  It was late, we'd gotten quite a few less takers for our Sunday dinner than expected and I was cranky.  I poured it into a pan, heated it up and called it stew instead.  It qualifies as a fail because it didn't come out the way I wanted, but it was still a tasty stew and people even took seconds so I guess that's okay.

I made a few other changes to the original recipe.  The original called for chicken thighs but I prefer turkey so that's what I went with.  I reduced the amount of olive oil.  I increased the amount of garlic, which you already knew.  I didn't have mace blades and was forced to use ground mace and thanks to an ill-timed sneeze I probably used a little more than was called for in the original.  I hate carrots so I substituted a parsnip.  The parsnips I was able to get were roughly the size of the Golden Gate Bridge, so I only used one.  I didn't have chicken stock so I used vegetable stock.  I don't care for parsley, so I replaced one bunch of the parsley in the original with tarragon.

Turkey and Winter Vegetable Stew (serves 8; approx. $2.12/serving)

2 1/4 pounds boneless, skinless chicken thighs, cut into 3/4" cubes

1 tablespoon whole wheat flour

1 tablespoon ground turmeric

4 tablespoons olive oil

1 leek, finely sliced

2 celery stalks, chopped

6 garlic cloves, crushed

1 very large parsnip, chopped

1/2 Golden Nugget squash, peeled and chopped

1 teaspoon ground mace

2 cups vegetable stock

1/4 cup whipping cream

1 bunch parsley, finely chopped

1 bunch tarragon, finely chopped

Equipment:

• Large saucepan
• Slotted spoon
• Plate
• Mixing bowl

1. Put the turkey pieces in the mixing bowl.
2. Sprinkle the flour and turmeric on top and mix well to distribute.
3. Heat the oil in the saucepan.
4. Add the turkey and brown on all sides, about 5 minutes or so.
5. Evacuate the turkey to a plate.  Meanwhile, cook the leek, celery and garlic in the saucepan until the leek is tender.  This should be about 4 minutes.
6. Return the turkey to the pan.
7. Add the parsnips, mace, squash and stock.  Bring to a boil.
8. Reduce heat to low and simmer uncovered 30 minutes.
9. Stir in the cream and the herbs.
10. Serve.

Recipe: Chocolate Pecan Pie

Recipe Source: The King Arthur Flour Baker's Companion.  The Countryman Press, Woodstock, 2003 p. 448

Pecan pie is something my paternal grandmother made.  She didn't make it often.  Traditional pecan pie is very, very sweet and as it turns out her sweet tooth, like mine, was a little stunted.  She made pecan pie at Thanksgiving.  She didn't make it every Thanksgiving, but if she was going to make it she was going to make it then.  Her antecedents, at least some of them, were Southern and pecan pie is a very Southern thing.

I want to like pecan pie.  I like tree nuts.  The thing is, I'm not into super-sweet foods and in traditional pecan pie the pecans are more or less a garnish for a sugar filling.  My husband loves pecan pie, although he insists on mispronouncing the word.  This year we hosted Thanksgiving at our house and that seemed like a perfect opportunity to give him the pecan pie he loves.  I wanted to change it up a little, though.  I wanted to make it something I would enjoy too, something that was a little less sickly-sweet and involved chocolate.  That's where this recipe comes in.

According to the original this would traditionally be served on Derby Day - the Kentucky Derby, for those who are not into horse racing and don't live in the American South.  (I wouldn't have known if not for the recipe notes, not being a fan of horse racing myself.)  I made a few changes of course.  The pie crust I used was a whole-wheat version of our traditional family recipe.  I used raw sugar, which doesn't sound like it should make much of a difference but believe me it does.  I used whole wheat flour for the filling as well.  My chocolate chips were more chocolate chunks and they were of the dark chocolate variety.  Bourbon became Irish whiskey.  We had both on hand but the bourbon we had on hand was a little too high-end to use in baking.  I garnished with a whipped cream I flavored with rosewater, for no other reason than the fact that I love rosewater and dearly wanted some that day.

I actually wound up having to make this pie twice, which is why it is included in the Fail Files even though it turned out perfectly both times.  You see, I made it the night before Thanksgiving.  To keep it away from the dog and cats I put it in the oven overnight.  The next morning, before drinking my coffee, I preheated the oven for the bread I was baking.  I did check the oven but apparently I'd pushed the pie fairly far back.  This left me with a cinder of a pie.  Fortunately I always make extra pastry dough and I was able to whip off a new pie easily.

I liked this pie.  My friends liked this pie.  I'm reasonably certain that my in-laws liked this pie.  My husband, however, said he would have liked this pie if he hadn't been expecting a traditional pie.  Oh well.  That's what he gets for pronouncing pecan wrong :)

Chocolate Pecan Pie (serves 8; approx. $1.48/serving)

1 single-crust pie crust - mine was whole wheat but use whatever works for you

2 eggs

7 ounces raw sugar

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 ounces whole wheat flour

8 tablespoons butter, melted and cooled

6 ounces dark chocolate chunks

4 ounces chopped toasted pecans

1 tablespoon Irish whiskey (plus a little for the cook if you're so inclined)

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Rosewater whipped cream to garnish (optional, not included in cost per serving)

Equipment:

• Stand mixer with paddle attachment
• Pie plate

1. Preheat your oven to 375.
2. Line your pie plate with the pie crust.
3. Beat the eggs in the stand mixer on high speed until "light and lemon colored."  You'll know what that means when you see it.
4. Add in the sugar gradually.  Beat until thoroughly incorporated.
5. Reduce speed to low.  Add the salt, flour and melted butter.
6. Stir in the chocolate chips, pecans, whiskey and vanilla.
7. Pour the mixture into the pie crust and trim the edges.
8. Bake until golden, about 45 minutes.
9. Serve, garnished with the whipped cream if you're feeling fancy.

Recipe: Parsnip and Nutmeg Bread

Recipe Source: Shapter, Jennie.  Bread Machine. Anness Publishing, London, 2001 p. 162

Some time ago I got into a little dispute with our pediatrician.  Our daughter was not only not gaining weight she was losing weight despite gains in height.  (I will avoid indulging in envy here.)  She was eating almost constantly, but her favorite foods were not exactly high in calories.  She loved those ghastly "puffs," which have approximately 20 calories per jar.  She loved grapes, apples, carrots, squash, broccoli.... in short, she loved vegetables and fruit of any kind.  The doctor told us to stop giving her puffs, which wasn't a problem for us since we wanted to cure her of her addiction to them.  She also told us to stop feeding her vegetables.  "If you MUST give her vegetables," she said, "drench them in butter or incorporate them into baked goods."

I'm sure you can see why I objected.

Anyway, our concern for Fearless Baby's health led us to try the doctor's advice.  We drenched absolutely everything in butter.  We went through scads of the stuff.  The result was that she stopped eating anything at all for about two weeks.  She did not like butter.  I don't see why we, or the doctor, were surprised.  Neither my husband nor I cares for fatty foods that are drenched in butter.  we don't even put butter on our bread.  As for incorporating vegetables into baked goods only, that was right out as well.  I've got a kid who adores vegetables, eats them without complaint.  Why am I going to screw it up and set her up with unhealthy ideas about food for life?  The idea stayed in my head though.  While it was not a strategy to get more calories into Fearless Baby, it was an interesting idea.  Why could I not incorporate more vegetables into our diets by working them into some baked goods?  I haven't experimented with this idea as much as I could have, but it's still in my brain.

At any rate, I decided to make this bread for our Thanksgiving dinner.  Parsnips are seasonal.  Nutmeg goes well with Thanksgiving.  I made a few small changes as you might expect.  I used whole wheat bread flour in place of white.  I prefer whole wheat bread and I knew that at least two of our guests shared that preference.  I omitted the nonfat dry milk because of a brain cramp.  I accidentally used too much water, having been working on two bread recipes at the same time and gotten a tad confused.  (I can be justified in pointing out that the author of this bread cookbook is one of the authors of the other cookbook, with the same publisher and same editorial team.)  This meant that I needed to add a LOT of additional flour, which resulted in the production of two loaves instead of one.

The recipe calls for cooked, mashed parsnips.  I decided to steam the parsnips in order to keep as much of the nutritional value of the vegetables as possible.  I've always steamed the same way, with the same pot.  I had to steam the parsnips in stages - I bought quite a lot of parsnips, intending to make this for another large party the following Sunday.  When I started the last batch there was plenty of water in the pot.  When I finished the pot was ruined beyond repair.  Yes, I have successfully burned water.  Granted, the pot was kind of crappy anyway - we only used it for making pasta or steaming anymore.  Still, the mess irks me.

I'm listing this as a fail because of the pot and because it made me so very irritated, but I'm not being fair to the recipe or myself.  The bread was good.  My daughter's been eating it with gusto.  So has my husband.  There isn't any kind of clinging "parsnip" flavor; it doesn't taste like plain whole wheat bread but it doesn't taste like someone worked vegetables into a bread to make it healthier either.

Parsnip and Nutmeg Bread (serves 20; approx. $0.43/serving)

2 1/2 cups warm water

2 cups mashed, cooked parsnips

6 cups whole wheat bread flour, perhaps a little extra

1 teaspoon nutmeg

3 tablespoons butter

1 1/2 teaspoons salt

1 1/2 teaspoons raw sugar

1 1/2 teaspoons active dry yeast

Equipment:

• Stand mixer with dough hook attachment
• Cooking spray
• Bowl
• Plastic wrap

1. Combine the water with the sugar in the bowl of the stand mixer.
2. Sprinkle the yeast over the mixture and let stand in a warm place until the surface becomes frothy.  This time depends on the age of your yeast, the temperature of the room and the temperature of the water but should be around ten minutes or so.
3. Add the remaining ingredients to the bowl.  Knead on the lowest speed until the ingredients are combined.  If you need to add more flour do it in increments.
4. Increase speed slightly - from 1 to 3 of 11 on my mixer - and knead until a ball forms.
5. Divide the ball in two.  Put one ball in one bowl and the other in the bowl of your stand mixer.  Lubricate the sides of the bowl with cooking spray.
6. Cover with plastic wrap and set aside in a warm place to rise until doubled in size, about 1 to 1 12 hours.
7. Preheat your oven to 425 degrees.
8. Punch down the dough.  Form into loaves, cover and set aside to rise another half hour to 40 minutes or so.  Longer is fine.
9. Slash the dough and bake 40 minutes, rotating halfway through.
10. Serve.

Recipe: Roast Duck with Sage

I have been craving duck recently.  I don't know why, but when I think about what I want to eat on any given day for some reason the first thought that comes to my mind is "duck."  This is not really a good thing.  Duck is fatty.  So am I.  I do not need to add to my extra fat by consuming something whose mission in life it is to stay warm on chilly ponds in winter.  This craving has plagued me for a while, though, so I finally gave in.  I figured once in a great while is probably an allowable indulgence.  After all, if I've been craving it for months it must have something my body needs right now, and clearly abstaining hasn't done me much good either.  I decided to go ahead, pick up a duck and have it on a special occasion.

The special occasion I chose was the day after my big medieval-history party.  I knew I'd be craving something a little indulgent, so my brain would feel vaguely rewarded or something.  I  don't know.  My friends Laura and Kevin were going to join us for dinner.  While Kevin, a vegetarian, had no intention of partaking of the duck, I figured Laura would enjoy it.  After all, being married to a vegetarian means she doesn't indulge in meat all that often either.  The boys were going off to a regional sports practice, so I was left alone with the duck.  I decided I would cook in our Big Green Egg.

The problem was that the day was intermittently windy.  This made it hard to stabilize the Egg's temperature.  I was going for rare.  What I got was well-done.  Oh well.  No one really complained - except me, of course - and my daughter has been joyfully feasting upon the leftovers.

Roast Duck with Sage (serves 4; approx. $5.18/serving)

1 duck

2 lemons, thinly sliced

Kosher salt and black pepper to taste

1 handful fresh sage leaves

Equipment:

• Big Green Egg (optional; you could make this indoors but it wouldn't be nearly as good)

1. Preheat your Big Green Egg to 425 degrees.
2. Rub the flesh under the skin of the duck with kosher salt and black pepper.
3. Slide the lemons and the sage under the skin as well.
4. Roast until the internal temperature is to your liking; 140 is usually rare.
5. Remove to a cutting board and tent with foil.  Let rest for at least 15 minutes.
6. Carve and serve.

Recipe: Galangal Fried Rice

Another of the ingredients I inherited from the feast cook for my big medieval-history party was cooked white rice.  Now, I know what some of you are going

to say.  "White rice is bad, you should only be eating brown rice," blah blah blah.  Yeah, I know, brown rice is a lot better for you than white rice is and I don't buy white rice anymore.  I will not, however, let perfectly good rice go to waste just because it is more processed than I would prefer myself.  It just doesn't make sense.  I used some of the rice, maybe three cups' worth, to make this fried rice side dish the day after the event.  (Besides, I still like white rice from time to time and I really think it does make a better fried rice.)

Fried rice usually has a little more... something in it, you know?  Meat, or a vegetable, or something.  I could have made this turnip fried rice, I suppose, adding fiber and whatever else turnips are good for to the nutritional value of the dish.  I didn't.  I was tired.  My feet hurt.  I just wanted to go ahead and have something starchy for the fighters when they came back from the regional practice that day.  In that I succeeded.  I do feel that the hot pepper sesame oil might have overpowered the galangal just a tad, though, which is why I'm including this in the Fail Files.

All in all, though, people seemed to like this.  It was eaten with gusto.  And I suppose that the soy sauce made the rice brown enough for most of us, at least for the day.

Galangal Fried Rice (serves 4; approx. $0.99/serving)

3 cups cooked white rice, preferably 1 day old

2 tablespoons hot pepper sesame oil

2 tablespoons galangal

1 tablespoon garlic paste

6 scallions, thinly sliced (white and green parts)

2 eggs, beaten

4 tablespoons soy sauce (I used reduced sodium soy sauce)

Equipment:

• Wok

1. Get your wok good and hot.
2. Add the oil.  Let it sizzle for about three seconds.
3. Add the galangal and garlic pastes.  Saute for about thirty seconds.
4. Add the scallions.  Cook until the scallions have softened.
5. Add the rice.  Stir-fry until the rice no longer clumps together quite so much and the pan mixture is evenly mixed.
6. Push the rice to the sides of the wok, creating a well in the center.  Add the egg to the well.
7. Let the egg sit in the well until just beginning to set.  Then stir furiously, mixing the eggs into the rice thoroughly.
8. Add the soy sauce and mix well.
9. Serve.

Recipe: Kale Quesadillas

Have you ever noticed that reality rarely meets intentions?  When I found out that I was having a baby I knew I wanted to minimize the amount of processed food I gave her - especially in light of the fact that she was going to be a bottle baby.  It's not that I think processed food is evil, it's just that I wanted to have more control over what she eats.  Processed food is often less flavorful than homemade food and often involves more sugar than I really think is good for her.  That said, a lot of the time she gets frozen ravioli.  I try to get good quality frozen ravioli, but it's still made by someone else, in a factory.  When I have time, though, I do make an effort to prepare food for her rather than rely on other stuff.

This recipe was intended to be a healthy, delicious dish my daughter could enjoy.  I got whole-wheat wraps.  I had kale, which is always delicious.  I did use jarred salsa but mostly to use it up and get it out of my cabinet.  I made the dish.  I cooked the dish.  I set it on top of the stove to cool.  I turned around to put my daughter in her high chair.  I turned back.  Five of the six quesadillas were gone, and one of them looked partially eaten.

I did sample the one that was only partially eaten.  (Sounds gross, but I ate from an untouched side.)  I guess the dog was really taking one for the team, because I didn't like these quesadillas one bit and I love kale.  Feta mitigates the bitterness of the greens.  Cheddar, as it turns out, does not, or at least does not in the quantity I used.  Oh well.

Kale Quesadillas (serves 6, or one hungry and ill-mannered Golden Retriever.  Approx. $1.27/ea)

6 whole wheat wraps

1 bunch kale, chopped

2 ounces cheddar

2 ounces extra-sharp cheddar

1/2 jar mild salsa

1 red onion, sliced

3 garlic cloves, chopped

2 teaspoons olive oil

Equipment:

• Saute pan
• Baking sheet

1. Preheat your broiler.
2. Heat your oil in the saute pan.
3. Add the onion and garlic with a little bit of salt if desired.
4. Saute until softened.
5. Add the kale.  Saute until wilted.
6. Lay out the wraps.
7. Sprinkle one half of each wrap with cheddar.
8. Layer 1/6 the kale on top of the cheddar, followed by the salsa and the extra sharp cheddar.
9. Fold the wraps over.
10. Broil about 5 minutes, until the cheese is melted.
11. Let cool.
12. Serve.  Or let them get eaten by the dog.  It's up to you.

Recipe: Mashed Potatoes with Cheese and Herbs

Recipe Source: France, Christine. Barbeque. Anness Publishing, London, 2004 p. 150

This is another recipe from the Triple-Booked Weekend – I made it in the morning and left it for the open house. Unfortunately this did not come out the way I intended. I'm sure there are a variety of reasons for the difference and I'm sure I could have salvaged the original intent had I had the time and patience to do so. I did not. I was actually quite frustrated and irritable with the thing. I would have discarded the whole mess had I not tasted it. The original were supposed to be a kind of "polpette," meaning "meatball." I guess it would have wound up being more like a croquette. As it was, I told my husband to serve it as mashed potatoes.

I made a few changes to the original. First, I increased the recipe. Second, as already mentioned, I did not form them into balls and either grill or fry them. I increased the dill because my husband loves dill and I had plenty on hand. I added some fresh oregano because I had some wonderful fresh oregano on hand. Instead of feta I used leftover grated cheese from the pulled pork enchiladas. I reduced the amount of oil. Like I said, this was a very tasty dish despite not working quite the way I wanted it to.

Mashed Potatoes with Cheese and Herbs (serves 12; approx. $0.87/serving)

2 ½ pounds potatoes, washed and chopped

Kosher salt to taste

8 ounces mixed cheddar, pepper jack and Monterrey Jack cheeses

½ bunch chopped fresh dill, finely chopped

6 sprigs fresh oregano, chopped

2 eggs, beaten

2 tablespoons lemon juice

1 tablespoon olive oil

Equipment:

• Large saucepan
• Immersion blender
• Colander

1. Fill the saucepan with salted water and bring to a boil.
2. Add the potatoes and boil until tender. Personally I like to leave the skins on; it keeps more of the nutritional value in the food.
3. Drain and return to the pot.
4. Use the immersion blender to process to a paste.
5. Add the remaining ingredients while the potatoes are still hot; this will cook the eggs. Process to blend thoroughly.
6. Serve.

Recipe: Blackberry Goo

Recipe Source: Teubner, Christian. The Chocolate Bible. Penguin Studio, New York, p. 79

Okay, here is another recipe from the Fail File. Unlike yesterday's recipe, this recipe did not fail because it didn't get used, it failed because…. Well…. It just failed. I followed the instructions fairly literally, only substituting out the liquor for water for reasons that I can no longer recall, and well, it didn't work. It turned into a kind of sticky, solid goo. It was the goo of science fiction movies, the kind you used to watch with your dad on soggy Saturday afternoons where the goo becomes radioactive and eats the entire state of Texas or something like that. (At least that's what I used to do with my dad on soggy Saturday afternoons. I don't know what you used to do.) I wound up scrapping the dessert with which I planned to serve this because we just didn't need it and it's just as well. I couldn't use the goo for its intended purpose. I decided to try to use the goo to make a tasty non-alcoholic drink, but even after THREE DAYS in tonic water the stuff just would not dissolve. Oh well. It was a learning experience. I'm not sure what I learned, but I'll probably figure out what I learned the next time I go to make something similar.

Blackberry Goo (serves no one at all, cost per serving not applicable)

½ pound fresh blackberries

½ cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar

2 teaspoons lemon juice

6 tablespoons plus 1 teaspoon water

Equipment:

• Saucepan
• Strainer
• Bowl

1. Combine the berries, sugar, lemon juice and water to a boil. Stir constantly.
2. Simmer 20 minutes.
3. Strain the contents into the bowl. Discard the solids.
4. Let cool.
5. Curse, swear and order takeout.