This dessert came from a picture in my head, and sadly, I’m without photos of its fruition this past weekend. I apologize for that and the stock photos below, but I felt inclined to give you something to look at. It sounds weird, but brownie sundaes with burrata and balsamic glaze were the perfect end to a fantastic dinner with friends.
Tasked with the dessert portion of the menu, I wanted to come up with something new and different. I started thinking about what to make, and easy and traditional just didn’t seem right given the guest list. If you took attendance, you’d find that 2/3’s of the table were foodies, worked in the food industry, or some combination thereof. In fact, in thinking back to the previous dinner party at our hosts’ house, the burrata cheese appetizer she made came to mind.
Much discussion had centered around that burrata we’d had a few weeks prior, so I wanted to incorporate it into my dessert. But how? Burrata is a traditionally savory ingredient, and I was to be making dessert. I mulled it over, and then over again, and thought, ‘why couldn’t this silky-in-the-center mozzarella from the water buffalo take the place of ice cream?’ Made with milk and cream, it seemed like a perfectly suitable stand-in.
And it was. I was pleased that the dessert came together as I had imagined because I didn’t have time for a trial run prior to arriving. Fortunately, it was perfect: a layer of the burrata over the sweet chocolate brownie base was topped with a touch of fleur de sel and a balsamic glaze I had reduced earlier in the day. The dessert touched three of the five basic tastes, sweet, salty and sour, and in my opinion, seemed like something you would find on a high-end restaurant’s menu. Molto bene!
Salad
Mache is a tender lettuce also known as lamb’s ear. I first used this in Bordeaux during my cooking class, and have been wishing for it ever since. Perhaps I didn’t search well enough because I found it today at Trader Joe’s in the bagged salad section. It’s grown hydroponically so sometimes you’ll find it in plastic cartons with the sponge still attached. Just snip it off.
For the dressing, combine the juice of a lemon, 1/2 cup of extra virgin olive oil, 1/4 cup of spring onion, one small clove of garlic, minced, and season with salt and pepper. Whisk to combine and pour over the mache topped with slices of avocado.
Cornbread
I cheated and used boxed cornbread mix. It’s just as good and makes things simple, freeing up my time and attention for the rest of the meal.
Goat Cheese & Chive Smashed Potatoes
Before you get jumpy about how fattening these sound, just know that these potatoes are surprisingly figure-friendly. Goat cheese is lower in fat than you think, and I opted to use Yukon Gold potatoes that are a good source of Vitamin C. You can peel the potatoes, or leave the skin-on, which is what I did because I like the variation in texture. The goat cheese helps the milk and butter make the potatoes creamy, and the chives give it a punch of color and a punch on your tongue.
Cover the potatoes with cold water and boil until fork tender, approximately 15-20 minutes. Drain and return to pan. Add in 5 ounces of goat cheese, 4 Tbsp of butter, and start with a 1/2 cup of milk. Season with salt and pepper. Mash with a potato masher, or you can mash them with a fork. Add more milk if necessary, and stir in the chives when you achieve the desired consistency.
Mini Turkey Meatloaves
One of the challenges of cooking for a group is that not everyone likes the same things. This person doesn’t eat red meat, this person doesn’t like mushrooms, and so forth. It’s an ongoing challenge. Tonight, I’m making meatloaf work for everyone by using ground turkey. And I’m livening it up by making the mini meatloaves in a muffin tin. Charming, quicker, and a good way to portion the meatloaf: winner.
This recipe came from Ina Garten as part of her ‘Barefoot in London’ episode on The Food Network. For people who hate to bake (myself included), this should be your new go-to dessert. It’s incredibly simple. 
 |
| Apple Pie Stuffing |
Nothing says “Happy Thanksgiving” like stuffing and apple pie, so I figured, ‘Why not combine them both together?’ I wrote this recipe last year, but in the mayhem of a smallish kitchen, cooking it got put on the back burner, as they say.
 |
| Prepped Ingredients |
 |
| Par-Baked Crust and Stuffing |
Crust
 |
| Oven-Bake Bacon for Easy Clean-Up |
Today, our journey took us into the depths of St. Petersburg on the metro, and out of the historical city centre. Exiting the metro, we’d find architecture that triggered immediate ideas of Communism; we had ascended into the projects. Real estate prices here, however, fetch surprisingly high tariffs, and we still are at a loss for an answer as to how people pay to live in this city. It is incredibly expensive.
The food, on the other hand, is quite simple. Russian cuisine is hearty to a point of insulation, and it reminds me a lot of the cuisine I had in Poland earlier this winter. In fact, some of the words are even the same, however, their translations couldn’t be farther apart. Take “pierogi” for example. During our city tour the other day, our driver, Alex, took Brady and I to a traditional Russian “fast food” restaurant for pierogi. We walked in, approached the counter, and looked around for the tender dumplings of various fillings, only to find exquisite golden pastries bursting with sweet and savory insides. Lost in translation? Apparently. Russian pierogis have nothing to do with the dumplings you’d find in Polish milk bars and in the frozen food section of Trader Joe’s. They are bonafide pastries filled with everything from salmon to apricot jam. And quite good. But I digress. The cooking class is why you are reading.
Brady (or Buh-rian, depending on who you ask) and I jumped on the metro this morning and made our way far out of the city centre. You wouldn’t believe how deep these metros are here. A picture wouldn’t even do it justice (and we tried), and if that wasn’t enough, we descended to find just a row of metal doors with people hanging about. Where were the trains? Behind the doors, of course. We entered the train, the doors slammed shut with a resounding clunk, and we were not getting out. Russian suicide prevention, or something else? We wouldn’t find out, but this was unlike any metro either of us had ever seen. The train skated along the tracks briskly, and after about 40 minutes, we arrived at our stop, the 2nd to last on the line.
The plan was to meet our host there at the exit, but as we waited and waited, we both questioned why I hadn’t been more judicious in getting a description of this woman, or giving her ours. Clearly, we stood out; Brady, looking like a proper English gent in his camel overcoat, and me with flat boots and round eyes taking it all in. Everyone was staring. Suddenly, from nowhere, Polina appeared.
An unforeseen incident with her electricity forced us to her mom’s apartment around the corner where the three of us met her mom and Jack, the English Spaniel. Polina and I were about to be up to our elbows in Beef Stroganoff and Turkey Kotlety, so we got straight to work. Neither of these dishes required any special cooking equipment though, only time. The three of us had a chat before we got started regarding the American interpretation of Beef Stroganoff versus the Russian one. Being that it was invented by a chef in this city, I can without a doubt say, we’ve got it all wrong.
I didn’t see a can of mushroom soup anywhere today, nor did I see a mushroom for that matter. Egg noodles need not apply, as they’re not even a part of this dish. Our stroganoff included hand-pounded and sliced meet, an onion, olive oil, a bit of sour cream (save it people), Russian herbs (which Polina so graciously sent us home with), and salt and pepper. C’est tout. The dish truly could not have been easier and I can imagine having it on a cold winter’s night, assuming we actually have a winter this year. Based on current reports, it sounds like a long-shot. We boiled off some potatoes for a mash on the side, and there, my friends, you have the real Beef Stroganoff. Where we ever came up with this concoction over noodles is beyond me.
Next to our Beef Stroganoff and potatoes were massive patties called Kotlety. We ground the meat by hand, and passed all the other ingredients (garlic, carrot, onion, and a bit of white bread) through the meat grinder as well. Cinchy. Before forming the mixture into patties under water, we added in an additional Russian dried herb and salt and pepper, and then sauteed them in frying pans until they were golden brown. This was truly winter fare, and perfect for the flurries falling outside the window.
At the conclusion of our cooking, Brady, Polina and I sat down to a lovely lunch, and talked about all things everything. Polina has Russian citizenship, but was born in London so she’s a British national above all else. We each shared our interpretation of St. Petersburg, discussed immigration in our countries, pondered what living in the Soviet time must have been like, and laughed about how Russians can’t queue or drive for shit. She regaled us with some hilarious stories about being pulled over for driving on the wrong side of the road here (they drove over from London, and she drives on the opposite side in her car), and it was a really fun afternoon.
If you’re headed to Russia and fear the food, don’t worry. It’s really nothing more than meat and potatoes, just like my Irish ancestors noshed on in a similar effort to keep warm in blustery times. The cooking digs today were a real indication of what Soviet Era Russia must have looked like. From the austere apartment buildings with unfinished concrete hallways and stairwells, and the metro experience from start to finish, we were whisked away from European Russia and transported to decades of yesteryear. I’m realizing more and more that traveling through the lens of cooking is a fantastic way to move between countries. Fantastic and different. Really.
Culinary Hopscotch 