Snowed In! Famous Barr's French Onion Soup Recipe

Famous Barr's french onion soup is renowned in St. Louis, and for good reason. My parents' generation would line up at the old department store's restaurant just to get a bowl after a day of window shopping. My generation has grown up hearing about the soup, and I was lucky enough to have a mom with the recipe and the patience to make it. Mama BaCon sent me this recipe years ago, and I love making it as much as I love eating it--your house smells so amazing as the onions simmer in pure sweet butter for 1 1/2 hours (yeeessss!!!).

My craving for Famous Barr's french onion soup was so strong this weekend that Mr. Luz went out in 17 inches of snow to pick up the necessities for the recipe. (Truth be told, we were out of beer and wine and the Saints were playing that night, so he had to go out anyway.) After he'd dug the truck out of the alley and mentally prepared to slide his way to the Safeway, Mr. Luz peeked his head in the front door and asked "What do you need for the recipe?" My reply-"Cheese, bread, 5 lbs. of onions, and 7 large cans of beef stock." This is truly the stuff of dreams, people.

I'll post the recipe exactly as it was originally published, with my tips and comments at the end (I've read that the St. Louis Post Dispatch published the recipe some time ago, but Mama BaCon got a copy when she bought these adorable Scandinavian-inspired soup crocks from the department store before it closed.)


This is what 5 lbs. of onions, peeled & sliced, looks like before the 90 minute saute in butter
This is what 5 lbs. of onions looks like after a 90 minute saute in butter. Nom. Nom. Nom.
Famous Barr's French Onion Soup Recipe:

5 lbs onions, unpeeled
1/2 cup butter
1 1/2 tsp. black pepper
2 Tbs. paprika
1 bay leaf
7 (16 oz.) cans beef broth, divided
1 cup dry white wine (optional)
3/4 cup all-purpose flour or instant flour
Caramel coloring (optional) or Kitchen Bouquet (optional)
2 tsp. salt
French baguettes (optional)
Swiss cheese (optional) or gruyere cheese (optional)

1. Peel onions and slice 1/8 inch thick, preferably in a food processor.
2. Melt butter in a 6-quart (or larger) stockpot. Add onions; cook, uncovered, over low heat for 1 1/2 hours, stirring occasionally.
3. Stir in pepper, paprika and bay leaf; saute over low heat 10 minutes more, stirring frequently. 4. Pour in 6 cans broth and wine. Increase heat and bring to a boil.
5. Dissolve flour in remaining 1 can broth.
6. Stir into boiling soup.
7. Reduce heat and simmer slowly for 2 hours.
8. Adjust color to a rich brown with caramel coloring, season with salt. Refrigerate overnight. To serve, heat soup in microwave or on stove top.
9. If desired, pour into ovenproof crocks or bowls.
10. Top with a slice of bread and a sprinkling of grated cheese. Heat under the broiler until cheese melts and bubbles, about 5 minutes.
11. Leftover soup can be frozen.This recipe makes about 1 gallon of soup.

Tips and Tricks:

• I have to split my recipe into two pots to add the correct amount of broth. After the 2 hour simmer, I can usually put them back together.
• I increase the salt a bit, and add some cayenne pepper and extra black pepper for the tiniest bit of zip.
• Don't skip or skimp on the paprika. Besides the caramelized onions, it's what makes this recipe.
• This recipe says that the cheese and bread are optional. They are NOT optional.
• Rather than putting the whole bowl of soup under the broiler, I make cheese toast in the broiler or toaster oven to float on top. No burnt paws that way.
• I also slice the edges of the french bread pieces so that you can easily separate one bite of cheese bread with your spoon. If you don't slice the edges, you can sit there hacking away at the chewy french bread crust with an ineffectual lil' spoon forever.
• "Kitchen Bouquet"...tee hee.

Wild Mushroom Risotto Recipe and Eff-You, 2009

Like most food bloggers, I've been a total slacker this holiday season. I've continued cooking and baking like a mad woman, but I've fallen off on blogging, mainly because of what I'll call The Macro Effect.

The Macro Effect is the term I came up with to describe the hyper-styled, "perfection in a food photo" approach that magazines, cookbooks, and now food blogs take to recipe sharing (and named after the setting on my camera that conveniently allows me to zoom in on the pristine image of the food and shut out all of the dusty crap and empty wine bottles in my dining room). If I'm being honest, my blogging declines when I'm busy thanks to the Macro Effect, because I don't have enough light/time/creativity to take the food photos that I want to for my posts. Sure, I dream of book deals, but I blog to express myself and connect with people who share my passions, so I shouldn't let the Macro Effect keep me from posting. (Also, I wouldn't trade places with Julie Powell for a second. Nora Ephron and Amy Adams?! Are you kidding me?!)

Folks who write about these things hypothesize that the Macro Effect has caused food blogs to become more commercial to their detriment. The argument is that we get enough glossy perfection every time we turn on the TV. Food blogs should allow people to connect on a real and personal level about real life and real food, rather than simply tossing around recipes and cutesy, sterilized anecdotes while painting a reality where people eat on adorable china with a fresh-picked bunch of yellow daisies "casually tossed" next to their tomato bisque every day. Food bloggers keep a majority of their stresses--illness, heartbreak, or just run-of-the-mill disappointment--out of their blogs. The internal reasoning goes something like this: Journalists don't talk about their messy divorce in an article on seasonal preparations of spaghetti squash, so I should keep my personal life private as well. But again, the argument goes, food bloggers shouldn't hide behind their commercial aims because part of what they "sell" is the experience of being human, and all the emotions and difficulties that go along with that.

I can understand their criticism, though I'm not entirely ready to give up my cutesy anecdotes and my serving plates sourced from Salvation Armys far and wide. However, as penance for me letting the Macro Effect keep me from posting, and posting honestly, I will: post an ugly photo (see above) for my Wild Mushroom Risotto with Manchego Cheese recipe (see below) and tell you, readers, that it has been sort of a shit year, emotionally, here at BaCon. In the grand scheme of things, I am very blessed. I have a close, happy family that is made up of some of my favorite people on the planet, a great job, and an understanding and deeply passionate partner who loves me for all of my imperfections rather than in spite of them. I have also lost two very close friends in the past 4 months--they haven't passed away, there has just been a decision to "part ways," and it's been very difficult for me. I know it seems silly, but here are 2 people who know me better than anyone, and in the past 120 days they've both decided after years of friendship to give me up in one way or another. And although I'm very blessed, all of that doesn't keep me from feeling sad, hurt, and sometimes angry about how everything has worked out.

I'm hoping reconciliation is possible with one of them. But I didn't want to just write about the reconciliation, citing peace and the magic of forgiveness and all that, after the fact and without the mess. Because that would just be soo Macro Effect, wouldn't it? So, here's the mess. I'm a lucky, lucky girl who sometimes feels very lost, and who maybe has done something to drive her two best friends away in completely separate instances. Or maybe they weren't really my best friends. Or maybe they were, and relationships just change. And maybe I can be close with one of them again, some day.

And for bearing with me through all of this, here's a yummy, creamy and rich (vegetarian!) Mushroom Risotto recipe for you. Thanks for listening.

Wild Mushroom Risotto with Manchego and Parsley:


8 cups mushroom or vegetable broth
1 oz. dried wild mushrooms, reconstituted with 1 cup hot water & chopped
1 1/2 Tbs. olive oil
1 medium onion, diced
2 large garlic cloves, minced
1 1/2 lb. portabella mushrooms, gills removed and chopped small (or 1lb. baby bellas, chopped)
2 bay leaves
2 Tbs. fresh thyme, chopped
1/4 cup fresh Italian parsley, chopped
1 tsp. Cinnamon
Salt and black pepper to taste
2 cups Arborio rice
1/2 cup dry white wine
1 cup Manchego cheese, chopped

Bring broth to a simmer. In a deep skillet or heavy bottomed pot, heat oil over medium heat. Add the onion and garlic and saute until translucent. Add the portabellas and cinnamon, salt and pepper, and saute until browned. Add rice and reconstituted mushrooms and cook, stirring, for 2 minutes. Don't let the rice brown. Pour in wine and cook until almost completely absorbed.

Add about 3 cups of warmed broth into rice and cook, stirring often and vigorously, until it's all absorbed. Add 2 cups and repeat. Add fresh herbs. Repeat broth/stirring steps, adding 1 cup of broth at a time until rice is tender and the sauce is very creamy. (This takes awhile. Grab a glass of wine and call me to talk about what's stressing YOU out. I owe you.)

Stir in cheese and continue cooking until melted. Serve promptly.

Beer Cheese Soup Recipe

It's Autumn in D.C., which means I'm thinking about 3 things...Halloween, comfort food, and watching Saints games in NOLA every Sunday with a bucket of Popeye's chicken. (Ok, 4 things--I'm also thinking about how much I hate the onset of winter in D.C., but it's a bit early to start whining about that now.)

And if you're anything like me, this beer cheese soup recipe will easily satisfy your craving for great comfort/football food. You can serve it with sandwiches and chips at your next NFL-related get together because, duh, it's beer and cheese. It also works as a light dinner with some crusty bread or microwavable soft pretzels and a side salad. The malty beer adds some sweetness and depth to the sharp, tangy cheese, and leeks and carrots are just awesome in general.

And unlike alot of other flavorful soups, this one doesn't have to simmer for hours, so go ahead and make a batch between trips to the store to replenish the Halloween candy that keeps mysteriously disappearing.

Beer Cheese Yummy Recipe

2 Medium Leeks (well rinsed, white and pale green parts only) chopped
3 Medium Carrots, chopped
2 Celery Ribs, chopped
2 tsp. chopped Garlic
2 Bay Leaves
1/2 stick (1/4 cup) Unsalted Butter
1/3 cup Flour
2 cups Whole Milk
2 cups Chicken Broth
2 bottles Sam Adams Red Ale or other malty ale
1 Tbs. Worcestershire sauce
1 tsp. Dijon mustard
Black pepper, cayenne pepper, salt to taste
12 oz. extra-sharp Cheddar
Soft Pretzels (optional)

CHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESE!!!!!!!

Melt butter over medium heat in a heavy bottomed soup pot. Cook leeks, carrots, celery, garlic, and bay leaf in butter, stirring occasionally, until vegetables begin to soften.
Reduce heat to low and sprinkle flour over vegetables, then cook, stirring often, for 3 minutes. Add milk, broth, and beer whisking continuously, then simmer, whisking occasionally, 5 minutes but do NOT boil. Stir in Worcestershire sauce, mustard, salt, and pepper.
Remove bay leaf, and carefully blend with either a handheld blender or a counter-top blender until the vegetables are in small pieces and the soup is mostly smooth. Add cheese by handfuls, stirring constantly, and cook until melted, 3 to 4 minutes. Serve hot garnished with sliced green leeks or warm soft pretzels.

Foodbuzz 24, 24, 24: Celebrating the Grand Opening of New Orleans' Green Goddess Restaurant

NOTE: Greetings from sunny New Orleans! To celebrate its May 24, 24, 24 event, Foodbuzz.com sent Mr. Luz and I down here to enjoy the riches of Chef Chris DeBarr's brand new NOLA restaurant, the Green Goddess. This write up highlights the dinner menu, but the Green Goddess also serves amazing lunch and brunch menus, which are overseen by the highly-regarded Chef/Co-Owner Paul Artigues. The Green Goddess is in Exchange Alley, between Royal and Chartres and on the Canal St. side of the LA Supreme Courthouse. Please stop by, we promise you'll love it.

Our journey begins with a Pimm's Cup cocktail at the Napoleon House, as Mr. Luz and I sit and sip, preparing for the amazing dishes that await us at the Green Goddess. The Napoleon House is quintessential New Orleans. The paint that peels off the thick stucco walls has probably been there for decades, and the orange light bulbs in the overhead fixtures burn like the hot, hot tropical nights that are to come as Louisiana moves towards summer. The patrons move slowly, and gaze out the windows onto the street for long periods of time--they observe the landscape, and they are the landscape. Mr. Luz and I breathe it all in--we've been suffocating, and this--right here--is our lifeblood.

We talk about Chef Chris DeBarr, who was named New Orleans Best New Chef in 2006, the draw of his food, and his new restaurant, the Green Goddess. Chef DeBarr has emailed me at 4 a.m. in the past few weeks to update me on the Grand Opening of the Green Goddess, and to describe the amazing products he managed to procure for his endeavor. Waking up to pages and pages of Chris's writing detailing the amazing ingredients discussed below was like beginning the day with a book of poetry. There's something about the early morning light and the late-night musings of a passionate chef that just feels right in my world. As we finish our drinks, Mr. Luz and I also reflect on the urban bohemian utopia that is New Orleans, and how Chef DeBarr at times embodies the wild, lyrical tolerance-nay, celebration of diversity, that is this city.

We leave the Napoleon House, and took the short walk to Exchange Alley. The Green Goddess is in an intimate alley that gets full sun approximately 2 hours of the day, and is a breezy, shady oasis otherwise.

After reaching the Green Goddess, we had the pleasure of talking with Miz Marrus, designer of the Green Goddess's gorgeous sign (absolutely essential to any N'awlins establishment). She told hilarious stories about iterations the image went through--at one point Chef DeBarr requested imagery from Greek and Roman mythology, the Statue of Liberty, and a Mardi Gras Indian all at once--to get to the wild, powerful image we have today. You can find more details here.We peek into the intimate, bronze-gilded dining area, and say hi to Chef DeBarr. Then, like any good and unobtrusive dinner guest, I start taking pictures of things. Scott greets us, and takes our drink order. At his previous restaurant, Chef DeBarr preferred to dispatch with the waitstaff and serve the food himself, which means you always have an expert describing your dishes and answering your questions. Keeping with that theme, Chef DeBarr staffs the Green Goddess with cooks and chefs that are as comfortable serving tables in the the front of the house as they are trained to create the dishes in the back of the house. Scott served us at our table, but also helped prep and cook our dishes. Needless to say, the enthusiasm and pride among the front of the house staff was palpable, and we loved discussing the dishes with their creators as we were experiencing them.

Mr. Luz started with the Brazilian Samba and I ordered the Island Sea Breeze from the Green Goddess "Juicy Cocktail" menu. The Brazilian Samba features cashew fruit juice, sparkling apple juice, white tea, and agave with frozen young coconut juice floating on top, and the Island Sea Breeze has Ting (Jamaican grapefruit soda), hibiscus, acai juice, and lime juice. The drinks were complex, refreshing, and perfect for a sunny New Orleans late afternoon. Like any perfect creation, you can taste all of the elements independent from one another, and you also get an entirely different experience as all of the flavors harmonize into one.

We begin the Tasting Menu with the Niigata Bruschetta with edamame and mint tapenade with Japanese crazy wintry malted chiles on olive bread, paired with Chef DeBarr's Salty Banana Mango Lassi with basil seed drink "fault line" and curry sugar rim. If the Green Goddess were a microcosm of the utopian bohemia that is New Orleans, this dish would best represent the diversity that makes New Orleans so exciting. As Chef DeBarr tells the story, the tapenade is made of chiles that grow in the mountains of Japan. The chiles are packed in snow to mellow and sweeten their spicy elements, and then fermented in rice malt from the Niigata region of Japan for three years. The result is a salty, umami chile that Chef DeBarr mixes with fresh edamame and mint from his garden before spreading on thin, soft slices of bread. The dish is simultaneously sweet, earthy, and light on the palate. Chef DeBarr pairs the Niigata bruschetta with his dynamite Mango Banana Lassi (an appetizer in itself ) for a fantastically bright and decadadent first course.
The second course is a Pacific fiddlehead fern, fennel and absinthe bisque. Chef DeBarr roasts the nutty fiddlehead ferns with exotic Bengali seasonings, before cooking them a second time in the bisque. The aromatic ingredients nestle in the fiddleheads in a perfectly engineered dish.
Love. That bohemian theme is present in every element of Chef DeBarr's third course--the roasted golden beet carpaccio “ravioli” stuffed with truffled chèvre, finished with pomegranate molasses, Sardinian Saba, and avocado oil. This dish is all consuming, and almost bittersweet. Chef DeBarr roasts the sweet golden beets and slices them thin, with the tangy goat cheese between two slices. The pomegranate molasses is tart, and absolutely takes control of the roof of your mouth while the other elements dance on the front and sides of your tongue. The pink Himalayan salt that finishes the dish keeps it savory, and gives the subtle beets the kick they need to stand up to the more powerful elements.
The beet "ravioli" is paired with Chef DeBarr's Huckleberry Snowball, a "juicy cocktail" made of crushed ice sinking in Tazo Brambleberry Tea, Hansen’s Dragonfruit Sparkler, and an earthy huckleberry granita. The dark fruit flavors sink deeper into the shaved ice as you sip, and immediately, you are in love.
As we finish our Snowball, a brass band leads a second line of dancing, stomping folks past Exchange Alley and we pause to take in the joy that is strolling past us to the music of brass and drum.
Our fourth course could represent the Spirituality that strums beneath the NOLA way of life. Chef DeBarr's dish of lightly roasted asparagus, morels, petite green peas and shallot “Jam” with a juicy red wine reduction and fluffy red quinoa was the crescendo of the evening. The sauces sunk into the fluffy, earthy morels, and the caramelized shallots offered an intense sweetness to the bright spring flavors and the deep acidity of the red wine reduction. Mr. Luz tasted the Catholic incense of his alter boy days in the floral quinoa, and frankly, we were both emotional as we enjoyed the thoughtful purity of the dish in the peaceful New Orleans evening.
Music is the final urban bohemian element present in Chef DeBarr's Green Goddess tasting menu. His lychee ginger mint "cocktail" with lime absolutely sings. Mr. Luz described the ginger in this cocktail as analogous to hops in a good beer--it was aromatic, and exciting. The mint and lychee added subtle sweet and tangy flavors, and the candy mint danced across your tongue and left your mouth cool and fresh. Like the second line that graced our tasting menu earlier in the night, this "cocktail" alternately bounces and drifts across your palate, and is not to be missed.
Chef DeBarr finished the evening with his Mt. Hood Medicine Man salad, with shaved fennel, candied yuzu peel, hazelnuts and wild foraged spring greens with blood orange vinaigrette and avocado oil. This dish is perfectly lagniappe (meaning "a little something extra" in N'awlins-speak). Every bite is different, and the shaved fennel in particular changes whether you eat it with a bite of some of the bitter greens, the citrus-y yuzu peel, or the sweeter hazelnuts. The greens are foraged by hand on Oregon's Mt. Hood by a man named Running Squirrel. The greens truly taste wild, with a myriad of hidden flavors highlighted by Chef DeBarr's preparation, and they are fleeting in that they will only be harvested for a short time. In sum, Chef DeBarr's salad is a fresh, fleeting masterpiece in an otherwise stale culinary world where famous chefs haven't changed their menu since 2000 (sorry, Emeril).
The tasting menu ended with a toasted hazelnut tuile and blood orange sorbet with pine bud syrup, and a Louisiana strawberry crème brulee topped with caramelized balsamic syrup. The desserts progressed from citrus-y and bright to creamy and deep. (Maybe we also tasted Chef DeBarr's bread pudding with chocolate hazelnut--decadent!--and his Saturn Calling dessert made with sticky black rice pudding, coconut milk, mango and amaretto with tapioca pearls, which I highly recommend!)

Chef DeBarr's Green Goddess restaurant takes a purposefully and almost prayerfully distilled approach to melding fresh ingredients with exotic whimsy. In that way, he takes the traditional N'awlins approach to cooking, where roux-making is almost spiritual, and makes it his own. It is eclectic and original, in the most warm, approachable, and thoughtful way. Mr. Luz and I felt privileged to be able to attend a tasting dinner at the Green Goddess, and to enjoy the celebration of music, love, diversity, spirituality, and above all--rare and complex ingredients prepared with reverence--that the Green Goddess has to offer.

Other highlights from Chef DeBarr's dinner menu at the Green Goddess:

South Indian Savory Ivory Lentil Pancake (aka: utthappam) with petite green peas,
mustard seeds, kalonji, and spiced tomatoes with tamarind chutney & fiery dal. This dish tastes like an inside out samosa, fluffy and fun, and the tamarind paste puckers your palate in a good way!
Second favorite dish of the night: “Spooky” Blue Corn Crèpes with huitlacoche, (a
rare Aztec corn fungus) mushrooms & brandy ragout, finished with porcini salt and butter.

Holy Lord.

The huitlacoche can best be described as a sort of "noble rot" that gives the corn a meaty flavor and texture. The porcini salt and butter hits you in the face all at once and with every bite, and lends a truffled element to the dish.

Our final entrée was the Bison Bacon Meatloaf with asparagus roasted with serrano ham and twice baked potato and spicy steak sauce. My favorite part of this dish is the twice baked potato. The potatoes are whipped with yogurt instead of sour cream and then baked with manchego cheese. Scott told us that "you can't get the potatoes creamy enough for Chef Debarr-you could whisk butter, cream, and yogurt into them for hours and they're still not creamy enough." Awesome.

Pear, Goat Cheese Strudel Recipe: The Daring Bakers Are At It Again!

How did it get to be the end of May already?!! I want this summer to be as long and sunny as possible--winter in D.C. almost did me in after 3 years in NOLA. Luckily, Liza Jane and I have decided that this is "The Summer of No Sleep," and we intend to enjoy every balmy, humid hour of every day from now until August. We shall have rockin' tans, and lots of mosquito bites.

All of this is to say that it's the 27th, so it's time to reveal the May Daring Bakers' Challenge.

This month's challenge was a rustic Strudel recipe. I'm not much of a baker, so I joined the Daring Bakers to learn. Sure, I braise, fry, smoke with confidence, but give me a recipe with exact measurements and I die a little inside.

And in the case of this strudel recipe, I fudge it, and use some "E.Lee Tips and Tricks" that go horribly wrong, and I end up throwing my second batch of dough on the floor before deciding to stick to the recipe on the third batch.

Luckily, following the recipe actually worked. Go figure. The real challenge to this recipe is the stretching. According to one Daring Baker, you should "be able to read a love letter through the dough" once it's properly stretched. Yikes! I opted to simply ensure that you could see my middle finger raised at batches #1 and #2 through my stretched batch #3, and it seemed to work out well enough.
The May Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Linda of make life sweeter! and Courtney of Coco Cooks. They chose Apple Strudel from the recipe book Kaffeehaus: Exquisite Desserts from the Classic Cafés of Vienna, Budapest and Prague by Rick Rodgers.

Once it was stretched, I filled my strudel dough with sliced super-ripe pears, dried cranberries, goat cheese and almonds, and then I topped it with a muscato-honey drizzle with nutmeg and fresh flowers. It was goaty, and super sweet, and pretty tasty. And so I say, take THAT jerkface strudel dough!


Preparation time
Total: 2 hours 15 minutes – 3 hours 30 minutes

**I substituted the Apple filling for a Pear, Goat Cheese filling, using the Kaffeehaus recipe as a guidepost***
2 Tbs. Golden Rum
3 Tbs. Dried Cranberries
1/4 tsp. Ground Nutmeg
1/4 cup Sugar
1 1/2 cups ground Honey-flavored Cookies (not low-fat)
1/2 cup Almond Slivers
2 lbs. peeled ripe Pears
Strudel Dough (recipe below)
5 Tbs. Butter, melted
4 oz. Goat Cheese
2 cups Muscato wine
1/4 tsp. Nutmeg
2 Tbs. Honey

1. Mix the rum and cranberries in a bowl. Mix the nutmeg and sugar in another bowl.

2. Put the rack in the upper third of the oven and preheat the oven to 400°F. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper. Make the strudel dough as described below. Spread 3 tablespoons of the remaining melted butter over the dough using your hands. Sprinkle the buttered dough with the cookie crumbs. Spread the almonds about 3 inches from the short edge of the dough in a 6-inch-wide strip. Mix the pears with the cranberry-rum mixture, and the cinnamon sugar. Spread the mixture over the almonds. Dot with teaspoonfuls of the goat cheese.

3. Fold the short end of the dough onto the filling. Lift the tablecloth at the short end of the dough so that the strudel rolls onto itself. Transfer the strudel to the prepared baking sheet by lifting it. Curve it into a horseshoe to fit. Tuck the ends under the strudel. Brush the top with the remaining melted butter.

4. Bake the strudel for about 30 minutes or until it is deep golden brown. While the strudel is baking, bring the muscato to a slow boil over medium high heat in a small sauce pan. Add the nutmeg and honey, and boil until the liquid has reduced to 3/4 cup. When the strudel is done baking, cool for at least 30 minutes before drizzling with the honey glaze and slicing. Use a serrated knife and serve either warm or at room temperature. It is best on the day it is baked.

Strudel dough

1 1/3 cups Unbleached Flour
1/8 tsp. Salt
7 Tbs. Water, plus more if needed
2 Tbs. Vegetable Oil, plus additional for coating the dough
1/2 tsp. Cider Vinegar

1. Combine the flour and salt in a stand-mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Mix the water, oil and vinegar in a measuring cup. Add the water/oil mixture to the flour with the mixer on low speed. You will get a soft dough. Make sure it is not too dry, add a little more water if necessary.
Take the dough out of the mixer. Change to the dough hook. Put the dough ball back in the mixer. Let the dough knead on medium until you get a soft dough ball with a somewhat rough surface.

2. Take the dough out of the mixer and continue kneading by hand on an unfloured work surface. Knead for about 2 minutes. Pick up the dough and throw it down hard onto your working surface occasionally. Shape the dough into a ball and transfer it to a plate. Oil the top of the dough ball lightly. Cover the ball tightly with plastic wrap. Allow to stand for 30-90 minutes (longer is better).

3. It would be best if you have a work area that you can walk around on all sides like a 36 inch round table or a work surface of 23 x 38 inches. Cover your working area with table cloth, dust it with flour and rub it into the fabric. Put your dough ball in the middle and roll it out as much as you can. Pick the dough up by holding it by an edge. This way the weight of the dough and gravity can help stretching it as it hangs. Using the back of your hands to gently stretch and pull the dough. You can use your forearms to support it.

4. The dough will become too large to hold. Put it on your work surface. Leave the thicker edge of the dough to hang over the edge of the table. Place your hands underneath the dough and stretch and pull the dough thinner using the backs of your hands. Stretch and pull the dough until it's about 2 feet (60 cm) wide and 3 feet (90 cm) long, it will be tissue-thin by this time. Cut away the thick dough around the edges with scissors. The dough is now ready to be filled.

Tips
- Before pulling and stretching the dough, remove your jewelry from hands and wrists, and wear short-sleeves;
- To make it easier to pull the dough, you can use your hip to secure the dough against the edge of the table;
- Few small holes in the dough is not a problem as the dough will be rolled, making (most of) the holes invisible.

Bacon Chocolate Caramel Cheesecake Recipe

Teehee...sometimes I like to think of myself as a cooking-villain. Like just when you commit to having that iceberg lettuce salad for dinner, I swoop in and drop a perfectly grilled Angus beef burger in your lap, zap it to add melted brie, mushrooms, and bacon, and you'll forget all about the leafy, boring culinary mistake you were about to make.

So, what's a villain to do when "Jenny Bakes" of the Daring Bakers challenges her to take a classic cheesecake recipe and make it her own? (Thanks for a wonderful April Daring Bakers Challenge, Jenny!) Cover it in bacon fat, of course! MUWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!To be honest, the bacon is pretty subtle in this recipe. (Drat!) Every once in awhile you get a definitively meaty bite in the crust or the chocolate candy drizzle, but it just adds a smoky richness to the caramel sauce that tastes nothing like your Sunday bacon n' eggs breakfast.
The April 2009 challenge is hosted by Jenny from Jenny Bakes. She has chosen Abby's Infamous Cheesecake as the challenge.

Jenny Bakes of the Daring Bakers & BaconConcentrate Present:

Abby's Infamous Cheesecake with a Bacon Crust and Bacon Turtle Topping:

Crust:
2 cups Low-Fat Graham Cracker Crumbs (cookie must be low-fat to avoid soggy crust)
2 Tbs. Butter, melted
2 Tbs. Sugar
1 tsp. Vanilla Extract
1/2 cup extra-crispy Bacon Crumbles
1/2 cup ground Almonds

Cheesecake:
24 oz. Cream Cheese, room temperature
1/2 cup Sugar
3 Large Eggs
1 cup Heavy Cream
1 Tbs. Lemon Juice
1 Tbs. Vanilla Extract
1 Tbs. Bourbon

Bacon Turtle Topping:
1 cup Sugar
1 Tbs. water
3 Tbs. cold Bacon Fat (drained and chilled until solid after cooking the bacon)
1 Tbs. Butter
1/2 cup Heavy Cream
1/2 package of Semi-sweet Chocolate Chips
1/3 cup extra-crispy Bacon Crumbles

Make the Cheesecake:

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Begin to boil a large pot of water for the water bath.

2. Mix together the crust ingredients and press into the bottom of a 9 inch springform pan. (Use enough of the crust ingredients to make the crust 1/4 inch deep). Hello, lovah!
Tap your crust with an empty drinking glass for an even texture. It should be fairly dry...the bacon will render some fat into the crust as it bakes, and anything else will result in the dreaded soggy-crust. Doesn't my thumb look gross in this picture? I'm a hobbit!
Cover and store the extra crust crumbs in the refrigerator.

3. Combine cream cheese and sugar in a large bowl and cream together with a hand mixer until smooth. Add eggs, one at a time, fully incorporating each before adding the next. Scrape down the bowl in between each egg. Add heavy cream, vanilla, lemon juice, and alcohol and blend until smooth and creamy.

4. Pour batter into prepared crust and tap the pan on the counter to remove air bubbles. If using a springform pan, place the pan into the center of the oven, and place 3 smaller cake pans around and under the cheesecake. Fill the empty cake pans with boiling water. (Ok, ok, or use a true water bath. Hate, hate water baths.) If using a foil baking dish, insert into a larger cake pan and fill the outside, empty pan with boiling water.5. Bake 45 to 55 minutes. The edges will be set, but the center will have alot of jiggle to it and will appear uncooked. Carefully run a knife around the edges to release the cake and avoid cracking. Without removing the cake, close the oven door and turn it off; let the cake rest for one hour. Remove it, cover, and refrigerate overnight.

After the cheesecake has cooled overnight, remove it from the springf orm pan, press the remaining crust crumbs into the sides of the cheesecake, and place on your serving plate. Mr. CheesecakeFace looks on disapprovingly, and says "You should have used a true water bath, E.Lee"Make Bacon Caramel Sauce:

Stir together sugar and 1 tablespoon water in a shallow sauce pan. It should be dry and crumbly. Cook the sugar/water over medium-high heat. Gently stir the grainy sugar mixture into the sugar that is melting in the center of the pan.
Shake the pan rather than stirring after all the sugar has melted, and bring to a boil. Let boil until amber in color. Add the bacon grease and butter. Gratuitous bacon fat picture below, just for Liza Jane and PapayaBlue. Remove from heat and stir in cream. Let the sauce thicken for 20 minutes, then pour over the top of your cheesecake, letting some pool in the middle.

Make Bacon Chocolate Drizzle:

Microwave the chocolate chips in a medium-sized bowl for 1 minute. Stir. Microwave for 30 seconds, and stir until all of the chips are melted. If some pieces remain, microwave for another 30 seconds and stir.

Carefully fill a piping bag with the melted chocolate and decorate your cake. Sprinkle the bacon pieces onto the chocolate immediately. The chocolate will harden into a bacon-candy shell once cooled.

Smoked Tomato Pasta Sauce with Portabellas and Fennel

This recipe started out as an experiment--a quest, if you will--to make an interesting and unique pasta sauce for a recipe contest. My thought process went something like this: "Bacon is smoked meat, and bacon is yummy. Why not smoke vegetables? Then they'll taste like BACON!"

Maybe that's not 100% accurate, but these smoked veggies gave the pasta sauce a definite smokey, almost meaty flavor and a silky texture.

I wanted the herbs to "pop" against the strong smoke flavor, so I used fennel and tarragon. And the ricotta salata cheese has a mild, salty flavor and beautiful white color that's perfect for this flavorful, zesty tomato sauce.

To smoke veggies [for tips on smoking, check out this post]
5 large Tomatoes
1 large can Artichoke Hearts
3 Portabella Mushroom caps, gills removed
1 bulb of Fennel
1 Anaheim Pepper
Extra Virgin Olive Oil
Hickory Chips for smoking
Salt and Pepper

For sauce
4 slices Bacon
4 Garlic Cloves, diced
1 cup chopped Onion
¾ cup White Wine
1 Tbs. Balsamic Vinegar
1 ½ cup Water
12 oz. can Tomato Paste
2 tsp. chopped fresh Tarragon
5 oz. Ricotta Salata Cheese
1 Tbs. Sugar

Salt and Pepper to Taste

Prepared Pasta (I used Buitoni Braised Beef and Sausage Ravioli)

Smoke the Vegetables

Cut the bulb of the fennel and the Anaheim Pepper into two large halves, and place in a bowl of water + 1 Tbs. olive oil. Add the artichoke hearts and portabella mushrooms to the water/oil mixture, and soak everything for 1 hour. Score the skins of the tomatoes with a large X, and coat with olive oil, salt, and pepper.
Soak two handfuls of the hickory chips in water for at least 30 minutes. Prepare a charcoal grill so that the hot coals are spread on 2 sides of the grill, with an aluminum pan filled with water in the middle and separating the coals. Place the soaked hickory chips over the hot coals, and replace the grilling surface.

Place the veggies in the center of the grill, and try to avoid putting them over direct heat. (You may have to make smoke the vegetables in batches). Use a metal tray to keep the artichoke hearts from falling through the grate.

Close the lid and smoke the veggies for 30 minutes. Remove the veggies from the grill--they may not be completely cooked, but they'll finish in the sauce.

Make the Sauce

Once the veggies have cooled, chop the pepper and fennel. Cut the portabellas and artichokes into bite-sized pieces.

Chop the bacon, and saute it in a large, heavy-bottomed pot. Once the bacon begins to brown, add the onion and garlic and saute for 5 minutes. Add the fennel, pepper, portabellas, and artichokes and saute until all of the vegetables are soft and the fennel is sweet.

Peel the skin off of the smoked tomatoes, and core and seed them. (I do this by holding the whole tomato over the pot and using my fingers to slide the soft, smoked tomato off of its core. Ewwww.) Add the tomatoes to the pot, and stir until all of the browned bits come off the bottom of the pan.

Stir in the white wine, balsamic, tomato paste, and water. Add salt and pepper to taste. Bring to a vigorous simmer, reduce heat, and simmer for 1 1/2 hours. Add the tarragon, and simmer for 10 more minutes. Taste the sauce--if it is too smoky for you, add the sugar and simmer for 10 more minutes. Right before serving, crumble or shave pieces of the ricotta salata cheese into the sauce, and enjoy!

Gruyere Potato Gratin Recipe

One of my favorite things about St. Louis (aside from Cardinals baseball, pork steaks, and my family) is the gruyere cheese potato gratin at Annie Gunn's Restaurant. It is, as one of the roomies stated "a brick of potatoes and cheese."

That stuff is nutty, starchy with a touch of cream, and dense as all hell. I'm sure that a single square inch of it could cause me to lose the Cholesterol Contest at work outright. So of course, I have to try to recreate it at home.

Chef Lou's potato gratin is fairly no-nonsense. I've watched them make it, and it's comprised of approx. 6 ingredients---fresh butter, fresh cream, organic potatoes, the-worlds-most-expensive-gruyere-cheese, and salt and pepper. My budget does not allow me to cook with the cheese of cows that have been swathed in silk and read Pablo Neruda poems. So instead, I sub in 90% of the cheap stuff, bacon, and leeks. The result is pretty creamy, nutty, and dense. Just do me a favor, and buy the tiniest hunk of fancy gruyere you can to grate over the top. Once that stuff goes under the broiler, you'll be glad you didn't Kraft it up.

Gruyere Potato Gratin
4 slices of Bacon, chopped
1 cup chopped Leeks
1 Tbs. Butter
1 Tbs. Flour
1 1/2 cup Milk
1 1/2 cup shredded Swiss Cheese (cheap crap)
2/3 cup shredded Gruyere Cheese (fancy stuff)
1/2 tsp. Thyme
1/4 tsp. dried Nutmeg
4-5 large Potatoes
Salt
Pepper

Using a mandoline or a paring knife, slice potatoes 1/8 inch thick in the largest pieces you can. This is easiest if you remove the rounded ends, stand the potato up on the flat just-cut edge, and slice downwards. (The flat side will also help you layer your gratin later, and you can use the trimmings for skin-on mashed potatoes when you're done).

Cook the bacon until it's beginning to brown, and add the leeks. Sautee the leeks and bacon until the bacon is crispy and the leeks are soft. Drain and set aside.

In a heavy-bottomed skillet, make the bechamel. Melt the butter over medium-low heat, then quickly stir in the flour. Cook for 3 minutes on medium heat, stirring constantly, until the roux is a golden brown. Add the milk and wisk to make the bechamel smooth. Bring the mixture to a low boil, and simmer for 5 minutes to thicken. Add thyme and nutmeg.

Butter a loaf pan, and pour a thin layer of bechamel on the bottom of the pan. Put a layer of potatoes over the bechamel sauce, and top with the bacon/leek mixture, salt & pepper, swiss cheese, and another thin layer of bechamel.

You can use the bechamel sparingly on the bottom layers, because it'll spread throughout the loaf pan. Try to use approx. 1/4 of the swiss cheese (cheap crap) on each layer. Alternate the direction that you layer the potatoes, so the gratin is less likely to fall apart as you cut the finished product. Continue until you run out of bechamel, ending with one layer of potatoes only.

Cover the top layer of potatoes with the gruyere cheese (fancy stuff) and salt & pepper, and then cover with parchment paper. Gently lay several canned goods over the waxed paper to compress the gratin evenly. Let the gratin compress for at least 30 minutes.

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Bake covered for 40 minutes. Uncover and continue cooking for 10 minutes. Use your broiler to brown the top of the gratin, and enjoy!

[No finished product pic--though potato gratin smells and tastes awesome, it does not photograph well. The pics all looked sort of alien with the layers of white cheese, white potatoes, and then browned glistening stuff on top. Crispy, browned gruyere with leeks and bacon, people. That's all you need to know.]