In Jennie's Kitchen

my best chocolate chip cookies

The perfect chocolate chip cookie. Is there anything left that hasn't been said about it? Whether it's your grandmother's or David Leite's, every day someone claims to have the best chocolate chip cookie recipe you'll ever need. I've literally worked on this one for years.

I kid you, not.

I'd been making chocolate chip cookie dough and storing it in the freezer for over a decade and always wondered why it tasted so much better when I baked it after the fact, instead of when the dough was fresh made. Well, unless you've been living under a rock, you probably know why having read David's article. And if you just came to from an extended sleep, the reason makes absolute sense. Spoiler alert: A chill time in the fridge allows the flour time to absorb all the flavors and moisture.

I like to call it marinating time, which always illicits a chuckle or two. Gail prefers "dry aging", and that's why I adore her.

 

I swear this was not a posed picture. It's the hazard of juggling a cookie shoot and watching a 22-month old at the same time.

So back to this best of the best cookie slug out. It's like the wild west in food blogging. What makes my recipe so different, you ask? Well, I don't claim it to be the best and only recipe you'll ever want or need. Life is too short for definitives, don't you think?

After years of making variations of this recipe, it is my best chocolate chip cookie. An original recipe that has been in the works for years. And while I'm happy to share some credit with Mr. Leite, whom I immensely respect, I'd been doing that marinating thing for over a decade. He just helped understand why it made such a difference.

Oh, and he also won me over with the chocolate discs. They lovingly spread as they melt, leaving you with a bit of chocolate in each bite. I'm not going to tell you these are the only type of chocolate you can use, though. That's too fussy for a cookie of this simple nature. I'm lucky enough to live near a store that sells Guittard 55% chocolate discs for only $4.20 a pound. Take that Fresh Direct and Whole Foods with your hoity toity prices.

No, rather than dictate what type of cookie you should eat, I want to help you find the right cookie for you. So, if you like regular chips, don't worry about the cookie police. I'll throw them off your scent. Frankly, Ghiradelli and Scharffen Berger make great quality chips that I've happily enjoyed in past incarnations of these cookies.

One thing I will urge, though, is to stick to the baking time as noted. The'll look undercooked when you first take them from the oven. You'll be tempted to put them back in for another minute, or even two. I've been guilty of said "crime" and my punishment was a too crisp cookie with nary a chewy center. The reward is in the inner-chewiness of the cookie, so trust me. The two minute cooling period on a rack will finish the "cooking process".

Most recipes I create are inspired for or by someone else. I was a bit selfish in this one. These are my cookies. I created the taste and texture just for moi. But I'm not too selfish to share the recipe with you. In fact, I'm going to be quite generous and share lots of these cookies at Annie's Blue Ribbon General Store on Saturday, March 27th for my friend Alison's book party. Come join us from 3:00 to 5:00pm for some of these cookies and a sneak preview of my deep chocolate cherry cashew ones. And, yes, there'll be plenty of cold milk for dunking.

homemade hazelnut chocolate spread

When I first mentioned last week that I was attempting a homemade version of Nutella, a twitter friend said I was going too far. Oh, how does his lovely wife Michele live his incessant teasing? They are a very cute couple, by the way, and I'm so glad to have met them in person last year.

Ah, but I've gotten off track, and so soon into this post. That may be a record for me. Alas, my goal in making my own nutella wasn't to improve upon the original recipe. And when I say original, I mean the one in the glass jars that are imported from Italy, not the plastic containers made domestically in the U.S.—they used to contain HFCS, and while that ingredient has been removed it still is made with palm oil. My goal was to simply recreate the recipe as stated on the label of those glass jars I'd been paying $5.79 for to support Isabella's habit.

Well, at least that was my original intent. Of course, I decided to push the envelope, and we'll see what Chef John has to say about it. The ingredient list is short, and um...sweet: zucchero (sugar), olio vegetale (vegetable oil), nocciole (hazelnuts), cocoa magro (which translates to thin cocoa, which I interpreted to mean cocoa powder) and from here there are three more ingredients with very funny literal translations, but they're basically powdered whole milk, powdered skim milk, emulsifiers and flavoring.

What that translated to in my Italian-American kitchen was confectioners' sugar, hazelnuts, melted chocolate, cocoa powder, vanilla bean seeds, and a few drops, I really mean just a scant amount, of vegetable oil—for an ultra smooth spreading consistency.

Here's where I may have gone too far. I was going to use Scharffen Berger cocoa powder. But right next to it on my pantry shelf was that alluring dark box of Valrhona cocoa. It's as if it was batting its eyelashes, saying "you know you want me".

I caved.

Then there's the matter of the chocolate. I could've used milk chocolate, which would've better recreated the exact flavor.

I could've. But I didn't. 

I used some Guittard 55% chocolate wafers. The resulting flavor is a quite decadent treat, as if Nutella in itself doesn't scream decadence spread on toast...for breakfast. Back when I was in middle school—I believe my daughter thinks that's when dinosaurs roamed the earth, we used to rent an apartment from an Italian family. I was always jealous of their morning Nutella ritual but my mother said chocolate wasn't for breakfast.

Now that I'm a grown up, I can have it whenever I want. I also get to be a pretty cool mom when I let the kid have a tiny smear on toast before she goes off to school—hey, it's whole wheat bread and it gets her to eat something in the morning, as well as drink a big glass of milk. 

So, while this recipe is richer and has a deeper chocolate flavor, it's pretty darn good and kid approved. If you really want to be a purist and crave more of that creamy, milk chocolate undertone, by all means swap in milk chocolate discs and regular cocoa. Trust me you won't be disappointed by either version. 

lentil burgers + crispy oven fries

The sun is shining. Since I'm convinced I run on solar energy, this is a good thing. We may be getting some wet weather tomorrow, but for today, I will soak up the sun. I'll let it radiate and recharge me for this busy week ahead. Right now I'm doing some oatmeal raisin cookie recipe testing. I'll keep you posted, but so far it's smelling quite good in the house. And speaking of cookies, I'm off to a luncheon today for Glad to Give to help raise awareness about childhood cancer (the story behind this cause is very touching, so stay tuned for more news soon). Speaking of helping children, New York City food bloggers, you can join in the spirit of loving thy neighbor and join the national food bloggers bake sale on April 17th to benefit Share Our Strength.

The week is devoted to children's causes, now that I think about it. On Friday, I'm helping support my friend Julia at a luncheon she's organized for R Baby, a foundation focused on improving pediatric emergency care. Every child deserves a fighting chance from the beginning. Without them there would be no future. So, can you do me a big favor this week?  Take a few minutes to learn about each of these causes, and join me in lending a helping hand, whether it's volunteering your time, baked goods or making a donation.

And with all this busyness, what am I cooking this week? I started off with homemade gnocchi last night baked in a tomato basil sauce and topped with generous amounts of freshly grated Parmesan cheese. Tonight will likely be chicken noodle soup—I'm thinking cheddar and apple paninis will go great with it (although I just found out it's Dr. Seuss' birthday and reserve the right to make a spinach & pancetta frittata as an Italian homage to green eggs and ham). At some point this week, I'm sure I'll be making these lentil burgers too (yes, finally, the recipe is below!). I hope you're not tired of my going on about lentils. They really are an inexpensive alternative to meat and good for you too!

It sure looks like the real thing, right? And that City of Roses egg-based mustard you see below is perfect for dipping the oven baked fries or smearing on your lentil burger.

lentil-ricotta "meatballs"

Ever have the feeling your best wasn't good enough...even when you know you gave it all you had? When can you feel good about just letting go?

That was the feeling I walked away with today. I've been a caretaker most of my life. I saw things kids should never see. I felt things kids should never feel. I've put up barriers to protect myself, but every now and then they come crashing down. These are good walls. Trust me. I've been through therapy. I've had my say and confronted the people who caused me pain. The walls are there because sometimes after you surrender to the situation, you need to shore yourself up to let the healing begin.

And through it all, I smile. It's is not a fool's smile, though. A co-worker once asked me many years ago how I stay so upbeat—I'm legendary for my chipper personality contrary to the blue mood I'm in at the moment. I still believe what I told him back then. There are two ways to wake up in the morning. In a good mood or a bad one. It seems a no-brainer which choice to make. If I don't hold out hope that each day has some good in it, why bother wake at all?

I know my life is so rich. I am aware of that every morning I go into my girls' room and gently wake them. The way the Virginia pops up in her crib, all sleepy-eyed and joyfully squeals "Mama" is better than a steaming cup of coffee. The smell of Isabella's morning breath. Well, call me crazy, but I've loved it ever since she was a baby.

So what does this all have to do with lentil ricotta "meatballs" you're wondering? Well, nothing...and everything. See, if I hadn't take a risk and tried the unthinkable then they wouldn't exist. The idea blossomed out of thrift. If you've been reading this blog for a while, you know my feelings about buying clean meat. The stuff free of antibiotics, added hormones and pasture-raised, the way cattle was meant to live. Well, that comes at a price of about $8 a pound here in New York City. And while I'm okay with that price and really believe it is fair, it means we don't eat meat every day. In fact, we only eat it once or twice a week as a main protein. More often, it's stretched out in dishes like a bolognese. 

A few weeks ago I set out to do the unthinkable. I challenged myself to make a meat-free meatball that could match, if not rival, the tender, moist memory ingrained in my tastebuds from my regular beef and pork recipe. Well, this one is a keeper my friends. Look at the pictures if you need proof. It looks like a meatball. It smells like a meatball. Most importantly, it tastes like a meatball...and it's made with lentils.

preparing dry lentils

 

I'm stressed and it seems almost insurmountable this week. Our tax appointment with the accountant is imminent and this is where my non-organizational skills become an issue. There's lots of paperwork to be coordinated and receipts to be calculated. Thankfully, that's done but it's now a hodgepodge of piles tucked away in the dark hole of a desk that doubles as my office. I use that term lightly and one day dream of having a real home office. But I have an amazing kitchen to work in, so there's always something good to balance out every con, right?

This is also a busy work week, lots of events and appointments which means I'll be making up time at night after the kids are tucked in. It also coincides with my pledge to Huff Post's Week of Eating In Challenge. Normally I wouldn't break a sweat about preparing homecooked meals for seven days straight. It's something I enjoy so much, I decided to build a career based on it. This week, though, is what is giving this challenge its fuel. On a week this busy, I'd be tempted to order take-out or pick up a roasted chicken from the local gourmet market at least once or twice for a quick, time-saving dinner solution.

Yet, I made this pledge, and while none of you would have been the wiser, I need to stick to this goal for myself. I'm not trying to be Superwoman, though the Mr. would undoubtedly disagree. The real reason is that a homecooked meal centers me. It brings me down to earth and makes me feel connected. In some ways it's the one thing I can be certain of retaining control over. A few deep breaths, a little more planning than usual and a well-stocked pantry will make this week a delicious one indeed.

steel cut oats with ricotta, pistachios & raisins

Oh my. Only 25 hours since the Mr. and I came home from our kid-free get away and it feels like a dream. Did I possibly have 48 hours of no whining? Well, of course not—the Mr. was with me. Seriously, though, we had a lovely time, and even caught up with a few best picture nominations, so I won't feel like too much of a shut-in come March 7th! It's certain to say those two days filled me fodder you're sure to hear about here soon. For now, though, my head is spinning.

I used to love Saturdays because they meant Greenmarket days. Now we juggle art class for IRP, the occasional birthday party—today being one of them, and and a visit from my in-laws. When all three coincide on the same day it leaves me a tad grumpy. I'm human, and don't think sugar-coating the craziness of motherhood does any of us any good. Art class is done, IRP is at said birthday party and my mother-in-law will be here in two hours. Did I mention it's her birthday too? Did I also mention that I refused to let the Mr. buy her a cake, yet I haven't baked one yet? The woman is turning 79 years old, and the least I can do is serve her a homemade birthday cake. But I'm here writing this instead.

steel cut oats with caramelized onions & ricotta

After weeks of testing devil's food cake recipes, followed by a special trip to get some cookies baked by none other than Dorie herself, and the boxes of Nunu's chocolate scattered around the dining room table from Valentine's Day, I've reached my limit. Yes, the girl with an insufferable sweet tooth has been broken. I'm sure this is just a temporary phase. How long it will last I'm not sure. Considering the Mr. and I are embarking on a brief kid-free staycation, my guess is there will be some pastry, cookie or other confection to woo me back. Until then, I started easing away from my addiction last week.

While I've been partial to oatmeal with fresh jam or dried fruits—you'll see what I mean in an upcoming post, I decided to take a savory twist. I love making and eating fresh ricotta (it's really easy I promise). And caramelized onions—well, who wouldn't want to eat those any time of day? One could say I've just swapped one addiction for another I suppose. Throw in the nutty flavor and pop of steel cut oats with each bite and it's such a delightful way to start the day. I'm not alone in this sentiment. Each morning, I ladle some into my bowl and snuggle up on the couch with the baby after the Mr. and IRP have left for school and work. Then we giggle and take turns lapping up this creamy, comforting concoction. So, yes, it's baby-tested and approved.

Soaking steel cut oats overnight significantly cuts down cooking time the next morning, but I go one step further. They heat so well, I just make a big batch to last a few days. A quick zap in the microwave with a bit of milk to reconstitute the grain's creamy texture means steel cut oats in less than two minutes. The Mr. is worried about us leaving with the impeding arrival of another snow storm. Heck, we're just going across the bridge to the big city. This screwy weather is what derailed our plans to relax in a spa in the blue ridge mountains, but I'm not letting a few inches of the white powdery stuff call off our plans all-together (and I know Jen would agree). Instead, I'll make sure there's a vat of this oatmeal so the sitter and kiddies will have energy for a good old-fashioned snowball fight.

p.s. I forgot to mention I recently added a pantry basics page. This is by no means comprehensive...yet. It's a work in progress at the moment but a good beginning peak into my home cupboard. Right now you'll learn what kind of salt I use, why I call for room temperature eggs in most of my baking recipes and an answer to the age old question of salt vs. unsalted butter. 

p.p.s. I added this recipe to the Food 52 mix last week as part of their Best Porridge contest. I particularly liked Winnie's Okayu with Edamame, Porcinis and Matcha Salt—doesn't it remind you of risotto, Japanese-style?

slow roasted tomato soup

 

TGIF. The end of the work week. Well, a mother's work is never really done. That's something we all know from either experience, or watching our own. I'll be busy baking cakes for the Mr.'s big birthday this weekend. Oh, and making these amazing ribs (I can even say they're award winning). Did I mention he also requested fried chicken? So, 20 of our friends, kids in tow, will be helping us celebrate this very important birthday (it's a half century folks) on Super Bowl Sunday.

You, on the other hand have worked hard, right? I bet you deserve some rest and relaxation this weekend. So, it's only fitting to leave you with a recipe that doesn't require too much heavy lifting. Now if you've planned in advance, then you already have some homemade bouillon ready to go and hopefully haven't eaten all the parmesan skillet croutons (thankfully, they are quick and easy enough to make in case you did). You're ready to make the easiest, tastiest tomato soup.

homemade vegetable bouillon

You've been patient, and for that I thank you. Now, hopefully you've all tried or bookmarked my recipe for manicotti. Jennifer over at Last Night's Dinner gave them a thumbs up, so go check out what else is on her must-eat list after you're done visiting me here. A couple of weeks ago, I came across a recipe for homemade bouillon over at 101 Cookbooks. It was brilliant, and Heidi says even she hadn't thought of making it until reading about it in the River Cottage Cookbook.

This turned into an "a ha!" moment for me. If you love cooking from scratch as much as I do, or simply do it because you want to feed your family healthy, unprocessed food, there is no cure-all. Most of the basics on store shelves are just a ghost of what they pretend to be. And you know what, it makes sense. Those products must be processed to become shelf-stable. 

That's where the brilliance of homemade bouillon comes into play. You don't have to worry about freezer or fridge space to keep a ton of vegetable stock on hand. All you need is room to store the one quart of bouillon this recipe makes and you'll have 48 quarts of homemade vegetable stock at your beck and call. Depending on which brand you normally buy, that'll shave over $150 off your grocery bill in the long run. It'll also leave you with a tastier base for soups, risottos, and even veggie burgers (I used it to cook lentils for "burgers"). It's also comforting to sip for a light lunch along with a salad or sandwich.

homemade manicotti

  

I try to never go back on my word. It's one of the tenets of parenting. You must keep your promises (which is why it's also important to be careful what promises you make!). Well, I know I teased you with my last post on Parmesan Skillet Croutons. I said it was the start of a mini-series in baby steps in cooking that would lead to a velvety, comforting rich tomato soup. That was before i found out that my recipe for homemade manicotti was a finalist over at Food 52. So, please forgive me for my little white lie. I promise next week to come back with a recipe for homemade bouillon (baby step #2). But, today, let's talk about these tender pasta crepes filled with creamy tufts of fresh ricotta cheese and lightly dressed with marinara sauce.

I can't recall the first time I tasted homemade manicotti, but the experience left an indelible impression on my tastebuds. I'd never been a fan of them, and that was likely because the commercially manufactured ones are belly bombers. My family never made them from scratch.

Then one day I found myself in the kitchen with the urge to make them myself. I started by making some fresh ricotta. It's incredibly easy, so give it a try. If you pressed for time, then it's okay to buy it, but make sure it's fresh—you'd just be doing yourself a disservice otherwise. And don't forget about the marinara sauce. Surprisingly, I've never posted my recipe, so here's the short version.