Aaaah, beer. In my opinion, there are few things more satisfying on a hot day. For those of you of like mind, here are a few nifty ideas for getting your beer on:
Bearing likeness to pliers and wrenches, these tool bottle openers will impart a greater sense of productivity to the opening of your next brew. $25, from The Curiosity Shoppe
My first experience with shoo-fly pie ended in disappointment. I was probably ten, had recently learned the basics of pie making from my grandmother and was firmly in the grips of a sort of pie mania. One day, while paging through a now-forgotten cookbook, I found a recipe for shoo-fly. I was intrigued—It was a pie that I had never tasted, let alone heard of. Adding to its lure, the recipe called for just a handful of common ingredients, all of which we had on hand, and was accompanied by, as I recall, a rather provocative image of a crumb-topped beauty with a ring of sticky, tar-like goodness around its perimeter.
I think it may have been my mother who claimed to have tried shoo-fly pie once and found it unpleasant, admonishing me against making it, but I proceeded, undeterred. Unfortunately, the result was a bitter, overwhelmingly molassesy flop of which nobody but my intrepid stepfather could tolerate more than a mouthful.
It wasn’t until recently, when my husband and I started planning for a weekend trip to Lancaster, Pennsylvania, that I gave shoo-fly another thought. The pie is a specialty of the Pennsylvania Dutch or Amish, who are prevalent in the Lancaster area and known in no small part for their tradition of fresh, simple, soul-satisfying baked goods. Shoo-fly consists of an unbaked pie shell filled with a molasses mixture that is layered, mixed or topped with a crumbly mixture of flour, butter, and sugar before baking.
Originally intended as a simple breakfast to be enjoyed with morning coffee before a hard day’s work, shoo-fly pie is heavy, rich and thoroughly satisfying, best enjoyed in smallish portions.
Because molasses remains the central flavor of this pie, it is important to use one that you like. To my taste, a half-and-half mix of Grandma’s Original molasses, which is mild to the point of tasting like a brown-sugar simple syrup, and Brer Rabbit, which is much more aggressively flavored and rich, works nicely.
Read my feature on shoo-fly pie to learn more about this dessert.
Icy cold popsicles can be a welcome addition to summer gatherings, even more so if you make them yourself in festive colors and interesting flavors. While popsicle-making is a simple endeavor, the range of equipment options for making them is extensive.
Tovolo Shooting Star Pop Molds, available at Amazon. My favorite commercial mold.
There are molds made specifically for this purpose that can be purchased this time of year at nearly every grocery, kitchen, and department store. They tend to be fairly inexpensive—usually somewhere between $1 and $20 for a set—and can be reused. Some models come with plastic sticks, which are almost always fitted with a cap that snaps in place over each popsicle cavity, holding the stick upright and in place and preventing prefreeze slops and spills.
After the ice pops made in these molds are frozen and unmolded, the cap-handles catch drips. And, because the sticks and handles are made from smooth plastic, there's no danger of splinters. The main drawback with these molds is that there's a finite number of stick-caps, usually one per pop compartment, so you can only make one batch at a time. Plus, the sticks almost invariably end up chewed and gnarled or just plain lost. (Though kids generally prefer the colorful plastic sticks that the kits come with, a serviceable remedy to the lost-stick issue is wrapping the filled compartments tightly with plastic wrap or tin foil, making a small puncture in the wrap with a paring knife, and then slipping a wooden stick in place through the puncture.)
Of this variety of mold, my pick for 4th of July pops is Tovolo’s Shooting Star Pop Molds (right) which yields a half dozen manageable-sized pops that are star-shaped in section.
Replacing artificial colors and flavors with the natural charms of fresh berries and tangy cheesecake, nobody will miss the true blue in these delicious homespun versions of the familiar day-glo red-white-and-blue rocket pop. For a more in-depth how-to on this recipe, including all the gear you'll need to make it, see our entry How to Make Homemade Bomb Pops.
My paternal grandmother, a no-nonsense mother of seven and grandmother of more, was the master of simple, hardy crowd-feeding fare. Aside from slabs of ice cream—cut thick from half-gallon blocks—the dessert I associate with her most is the plop, a sticky, fruity cake-like concoction.
A less than appetizing moniker, plop is nonetheless illustrative of the dessert’s honest, homey simplicity. I’ve always supposed that the name refers to the fact that one just plops all of the ingredients into the baking pan, but it may also refer to the method of serving the often structureless dish: by plopping heaps of it into bowls or onto plates. Regardless, it’s a dead simple, versatile, delicious crowd pleaser that requires no refrigeration and only gets more moist and tasty in the heat and humidity of a summer’s day, making it just the thing for an informal 4th of July gathering.
Consisting of little more than pancake batter poured over a thick layer of fresh fruit, plops fall somewhere between cobblers and quick breads, sharing territory with dowdies and buckles. And, as with all those dishes, there are no hard and fast rules for making plops.
I acquired a Nuscüp (pronounced: noo-skoop) adjustable measuring cup last year out of curiosity rather than need. I already had an adjustable measuring cup—the Metric Wonder Cup—with which I was perfectly content, but thinking it might make for a worthwhile write-up here on Serious Eats, I scarfed up the last Nuscüp in stock at the local Sur La Table—a boxless floor model.
My first experience with it was one of utter disappointment. As soon as I got home, I ran to the sink to measure out some tap water; the water slipped right past the rubber gasket (around the edge of the cup’s adjustable bottom) and into the body of the cup. I took the Nuscüp apart (it is constructed of two interlocking pieces for easy cleaning), washed it, reassembled it, tried to measure water again, and failed. I wasn’t sure if it was just a useless, poorly designed gadget or if the cup had been damaged during its life as a floor model. Mildly disgusted either way, I threw the cup in my gadget drawer where it stayed until recently, when I was packing up for our kitchen renovation.
The hall floor, before and after renovation.
Physical work on our new kitchen began about two and a half weeks ago and has been moving along. Our new tile floor is down and looking lovely, demolition is done, our stove hood ductwork is in place, most of the plumbing is completed, and electrical work is in progress.
There have, however, been a few minor snags. These have mainly resulted from the fact that none of the surfaces in our kitchen or its adjoining hallway are level, square or even smooth. When measured from a level line struck around the perimeter of the room, the height of our ceiling varied by about two inches—a significant variation in a 10 x 10-foot space. Because our cabinetry had been designed to come very close to the ceiling, it was imperative that the ceiling be leveled as much as possible. Our contractor set about doing so, using furring strips that were individually shimmed—relative to the hills and valleys of the ceiling—to provide level points of attachment for new sheetrock.
Then the tile guys, faced with a floor of similar irregularity, did the best they could to level the floor without floating it (essentially, pouring a thin, level layer of concrete), which would have resulted in an undesirable step up into the kitchen and the loss of a precious inch or so of overall room height. And these same intrepid tile guys are probably still cursing us for specifying a one-tile-wide contrasting border about 5-inches in from the walls all the way around the undulating perimeters of the space.
Wandering through the aisles of a local Whole Foods last week, I happened upon a novel curiosity, the Organic Batter Blaster. Had I discovered this pancake batter dispenser (à la Reddi Wip) at a regular grocery store amid packages of gray bologna and preshredded mozzarella-type cheese, I probably would have moved fearfully onward without giving the thing a second look. But there it was, getting cozy with a rainbow of soy milks, a few aisles over from the organic burdock tea, and my intrigue was piqued.
I paused, walked on, doubled back, picked a can up and read the label, put it back, paused again, snuck a can into my cart, slipped it back on the shelf, and walked a few steps away, before finally doubling back and taking a can once and for all.
After I got it home and tucked it away in my fridge to await its debut at Sunday-morning breakfast, I did a little checking online. From treehugger.com to Serious Eats Talk, I found an endless stream of comments from incredulous revilers, and to an extent, I understand where everybody’s coming from—hence my hesitation at buying the Batter Blaster in the first place. I, too, tend to prefer homemade and whole, natural foods to packaged and heavily processed ones, and I’ll admit the garish mustard-and-ketchup graphics on the container (nevermind the unfortunate name itself) only served to heighten the Blaster’s aura of indecency. Besides, pancake batter is damn easy to make from scratch, so why invest in a product to make something easy any easier, especially if said product allows you no control over ingredients and uses a fair amount of packaging to boot?
Equipped with little more than a hibachi grill and an improvised chimney (a rusty old bottomless chicken-feed bucket that has been a part of his life for at least as long as I have), my father has expertly rendered some of the most delicious, perfectly cooked steaks of my life. On the other end of the spectrum, he’s also been known to make phone calls to the 800-number on the back of a frozen fish stick box to inquire whether or not said fish sticks could be microwaved rather than baked and how to do so.
Cooking can be uncertain ground with dads, but eating and gadgetry rarely are. So, gifted chef or Chef Boyardee, here’s a spectrum of gadgets and gizmos to satisfy all sorts of chow-loving pops.
If Dad’s a lover of trivia and does anything that might require the use of a measuring cup, the Equal Measure might be for him. Whether he’s mixing up marinades or cement, he’ll no doubt delight in discovering that one cup is only a smidge less than the volume of “water in a cumulus cloud the size of a bus” and lots of other interesting volumetric facts. $12.99, from ThinkGeek
Nice post, Robinsue! Your push-up pops look nummy. Nice method with the pastry bags. :o)
@Robinsue: I could definitely see trying out plastic pastry bags for making stickless, push-up style pops, as long as you could figure out a good way to seal them well while they freeze, but because the bags lack any real structure or stiffness of their own I think they could present a bit of a challenge for making pops with sticks without making a mess of your freezer. Also, unless you fill only just the first few inches of each bag, the pops might end up a little awkwardly proportioned for easy, tidy eating.
Lemons - You're on the money with the clafouti comment. The plop has a different, more cakey texture, but add some more egg and milk to the plop batter and clafouti is more or less what you'd get. To answer your question, Grandma was German.
I shy away from recipes that span hours or days, like those that require brining, marinating, proofing, aging, etc. In a kitchen with an eternally cluttered fridge and limited counterspace, I just don't have the room to spare for such things. Plus, unless I'm planning for a special event, I don't usually think about meals more than a few hours (often a few minutes) in advance, and protracted recipes just don't work well with that.
@Kerosena: For what it's worth, I've nuked Mason jars (without their metal rings or lids) in the past with no repurcussions.
According to the FDA you should only use vessels labeled as safe for microwave use.
Less conservatively, a Michigan State University page I found provided the following guidelines for determining the microwave safety of a glass vessel: Microwave the empty container for one minute. It's unsafe for the microwave if it's warm; it's OK for reheating if it's lukewarm; and it's OK for actual cooking if it's cool.
You can read more from both points of view here:
http://www.foodsafety.gov/~fsg/fs-mwave.html
http://web1.msue.msu.edu/imp/mod02/01500615.html
As an aside, several other websites I found pointed to the benefits of using microwave-proof glass or ceramics for microwaving, especially for fatty foods, in order to avoid the possibility of the migration of toxic constituents from plastics to food during heating.
Lots of surface area=lots of opportunity for browning and tastiness. Me likey octodogs....but I think I'd prefer a good old paring knife to a 15-dollar gadget for this particular job.
@Maureen: I'd say Mason jars definitely beat plastic containers for storing spices. Glass has little or no permeability, but some/most plastics have quite a bit (which is why plastic containers tend to stain and hold on to flavors and aromas, despite washing and soaking). Mason lids in good condition also seal very well - in my experience far better and more reliably than most plastic storage containers - keeping contents fresh. The one thing to keep in mind with spice storage, no matter how airtight or impermeable, is that spices are light sensitive and should be stored away from direct light sources (e.g. in a cabinet or closet), particularly if they're being stored in clear glass or plastic containers that provide little protection from light degradation.
Thanks all for your comments.
Jenilowrance - I'm so with you on freezing. Some of my jars are even embossed with "for freezing --- fill here" lines. It's just important to be careful not to give frozen jars too much of a temperature shock during thawing to avoid possible breakage.
I agree, Wally.
Nice video, Cooking Up. I never imagined that somebody placed each loop by hand! Thanks so much for sharing!
If it's macaroni and it's got cheese (or some rendering thereof) on it, I'll probably eat it. Reared on the Blue Box, no snob am I. However, I have found that a little hit of blue can add pleasant dimension - a boost of tang and salt, with perhaps a touch of sweet.
I love this! The parchment cones are especially awesome.
@Tumerica: The recipe was linked to in this post, but it looks like people are not seeing it, so I went ahead and placed it here; it appears just after all of Amanda's handy info on molds and freezing.
This is a simply wonderful, well-researched, and imaginative post. Darn. Wish I'd written it! Now, how about some recipes, Amanda?
Nice post, Robinsue! Your push-up pops look nummy. Nice method with the pastry bags. :o)
This is such a great summer concept.
I've actually got a load of recipe for homemade pops (including some tantalizing adult varieties... margarita pops, anyone?). Unfortunately, I've yet to move forward with my project! Thanks for giving me (yet another) kick in the butt.
Hey Amanda thanks. I did go ahead over the weekend to give these a try. Curiosity killed that cat, I guess. I blogged about it here with props to your article! Thanks for inspiring me and my kids thank you too!
plopls.....grunts......dump cakes.........sounds more like bathroom sounds than cakes.....lol
@m0pngl0w...I was looking at a cherry clafouti recipe on epicurious.com while trying to figure out what exactly my mother used to make. They substituted a 16 oz package of frozen cherries, thawed and drained, for 18 oz of fresh cherries in the clafouti. Since this recipe is similar to a clafouti (depending on the definition of clafouti, as some have the pancake-y topping and some are more custard-like), I think you could make the substitution. If the good folks from Bon Appetit and Gourmet would sub frozen for fresh, I'd give it a try. And I wouldn't call you lazy or frugal...just enterprising! :) Fresh cherries of good quality aren't always in abundance, after all, even when they're in season.
Call me lazy or frugal but here is my question -- Can I make it with frozen cherries?
Anything that requires me to visit more than 2 grocery stores is out. I'll make substitutes where I can, but I have a one-year old - time is a luxury I'd rather not spend grocery shopping.
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Favorite foods: bacon, count chocula, fresh bread, cheese in all forms, butter, Upstate New York moon cookies (no dry, sissy black-and-whites for me), red licorice, etcetera (see below)
Last bite on earth: Current tie: the brisket from Tujagues, New Orleans; perfectly browned corned beef hash from the Blue Benn diner in Bennington, VT; or a freshly fried sugar donut from the farm market in Galway, Ireland