Monkey Bread Minis

Sounds cute, doesn’t it? In fact, it sounds downright adorable. For those who don’t know, monkey bread is the distant cousin of the cinnamon roll. Or at least they look alike. Think sweet dough, caramely brown sugar, melted butter, and cinnamon, all baked into a delicious, pull-apart treat.

Upon seeing a full-blown monkey bread recipe on smittenkitchen.com, I was reminded of a similar (and easier-looking) recipe I clipped from an old Rachael Ray magazine in 2008, but had never made—the story of my life, until this blog came around.

The Recipe

Monkey Bread Minis, from Everyday with Rachael Ray, September 2008 (can also be found on her website)

Apprehension Meter

The meter reads at medium-high for this recipe. Before using my food processor for the first time last week, the meter would have been at high, because this recipe requires the use of one. Now I practically feel like a pro.

With my food processor-fears vanquished, the real reason it took me almost two years to try this recipe was that it had “bread” in the title. All I know about making bread is that it involves yeast, time, letting things rise, and punching dough. Needless to say, I’m not quite there yet.

This recipe didn’t require most of those components, and while it still involved “lightly floured surfaces” and pulsing dough until “course crumbs form” (what’s a course crumb?), it seemed like a reasonable introduction to homemade bread and bread-like things.

The final deterrent was one of the ingredients: pure maple syrup. Did you know that brands like Eggo actually contain no real maple syrup? Check the label the next time you are at the grocery store- you’ll find high fructose corn syrup at the beginning of the ingredients list. And that’s why it’s small fraction of the price of pure maple syrup. The cheapest bottle I could find at Whole Foods was about nine dollars. That kind of hurt.

Here’s How It Really Went

Today I had a little helper—my boyfriend—which made for a fun and interesting experience. Like me, he’s also a novice in the kitchen (slightly more so—he makes me feel like Julia Child), so we stumbled through the recipe together.

Good job, bf.

I have to give kudos to Ms. Ray in that this recipe was very simple to follow, and didn’t require reading it though seven times. The bf prepared the maple syrup/butter concoction, while I put together the sweet mixture of sugary powders (here we have granulated sugar, brown sugar, and cinnamon).

Next was on to the food processor. After pulsing like a pro to mix the dry ingredients (flour, baking power, and some sugar and salt), it was time to figure out how to create those course crumbs.

Dry ingredients, pre-processing

Post-processing, pre-course crumbs

After adding the butter, and pulsing for about three seconds, four to five times, I ran my fingers through the mixture and decided that what I felt were course crumbs. Basically, the mixture didn’t have any visible butter chunks, but I did feel some little clumps (about the size of a pea or smaller) throughout the dough. Also, remember to remove the blade before running your fingers through the dough. Like a true novice, I didn’t.

Into the processor went the not-so-delicious smelling buttermilk, added to the mixture and pulsed until…dough! It was that easy. Nothing had to rise, and I didn’t have to punch anything, and I had just made my first dough!

The “lightly floured surface” I chose to use was my cookie sheet, set over my stove, due to lack of counter space.

This stuff gets sticky- be prepared to flour your hands a little, too, in addition to your surface.

I cut the flattened dough into 64 little squares, though I did have to combine a few of the too-small-squares when it came time to roll them into balls. I used a regular kitchen knife, but now that I think of it, a pizza cutter would make a lot of sense here.

Then came the really fun part. Dough turns into ball, ball takes a syrup/butter bath, gets tossed around in a delicious cinnamon/sugar mixture, then into the muffin cup it goes. In hindsight, I would have not coated them so much in the cinnamon/sugar mixture. They ended up a little on the sugary side. I would have liked to have tasted more of the dough, butter, and maple syrup.

Yum- can I eat this raw, right now?

Alas, they still turned out quite well. Plus- look at them. They’re kind of novel. I found them to be a little more fun to make than to eat, but the bf and some other friends seemed to enjoy them quite a bit.

Plus, it’s a great and non-scary way to enter into the world of homemade dough. Its probably the easiest dough you’ll ever make.

Coming next on She Tries Cooking… homemade pizza dough?

Traditional Hummus

If hummus were a character on Arrested Development, it would be George Michael. Honest, simple, well-meaning, somewhat plain, but oh-so enjoyable.

Don’t get me wrong, on occasion I enjoy the varieties of hummus that incorporate roasted red peppers, feta cheese, zucchini, roasted eggplant, etc. But why dress up something that is so good in its plain and natural state?

Today I was in the mood for good, old fashioned, traditional hummus.

Lucky for me, I received my first ever food processor for Christmas. Owning a food processor opens many culinary doors, among them, the ability to make your own homemade hummus.

Which is exactly what I did.

The Recipe

Traditional Hummus from Cooking Light

Apprehension Meter

The meter reads fairly low for this one. The ingredient list was very simple and familiar, with the exception of tahini, which was completely foreign to me. I had no idea what to look for when I went grocery shopping this weekend, but found a jar in the Middle Eastern section of the store. I was happy to have found it, but not happy that it cost about eight dollars. Ouch.

Aside from the tahini, the only thing that sprung the apprehension meter above zero was the fact that I was going to use a food processor for the first time. Much like the first time I boarded the CTA, I was nervous and excited.

Here’s How It Really Went

Aside from some technical glitches, this one went pretty well. To be honest, it’s hard to screw this one up. Basically, you add all of the ingredients, in two phases, into the processor, pulse away, and voila, hummus.

But first thing was first: assembling the beastly Black & Decker food processor. It was actually not very difficult once I grasped the concept of how it works, but all of these weird plastic tubes and different blades were intimidating at first.

The beast, in all its glory.

Confession: I didn’t wash the processor before using it for the first time—sorry, Mom. I was too excited and couldn’t be bothered with extra steps. However, to other novice cooks out there—wash your new stuff before you use it. But you already know that.

Anyway, then came the ingredients. One can of chickpeas? Check. One smashed clove of garlic? Check. And in they go.

The recipe instructs you to pulse five times before adding the tahini, lemon juice, water, and olive oil, which is exactly what I tried to do…until I was met with a deep and vast silence. I had followed the assembly instructions, the bowl and the lid were firmly locked in place, the processor was plugged in, but when I turned the large gray knob to “P”…nothing.

I felt disappointment. Frustration. Anger. Fear. Just kidding. Sort of. I resecured the parts, tried a different electrical outlet and still, nothing.

For lack of a better plan, I resecured the bowl and the lid for the third time, and twisted the dial to “P,” and all of the sudden… loud noises! It worked! I was so shocked when the blade began to puree my chickpeas that I immediately let go of the dial. Success!

Following the five prescribed pulses, I added the rest of the ingredients (tahini turned out to be a runny paste-like concoction of pureed sesame seeds, I think). I pulsed, pulsed, and I pulsed some more. And voila! Hummus.

Note: after tasting the hummus, I ended up adding the juice from the other half of the lemon as well. But taste yours before doing this- I just really like lemon, and the juice of a whole lemon might be too much for some people.

Well, you can’t eat hummus all by itself. Enter pita chips. These are incredibly easy: simply cut a pita into triangular slices, arrange on a baking sheet, drizzle olive oil and a little garlic salt over the pieces, and pop in a 450˚ oven for about 4-5 minutes.

All in all, a quick, yummy, and healthy snack that’s fun (and loud) to make—once you figure out the temperament of your food processor.

Beef Daube Provençal

Sounds fancy, doesn’t it? And a little complicated, too. That, combined with its French origin, put this dish towards the top of my list.

I discovered this recipe on the Cooking Light website while searching for crock pot recipes. This was listed as one of the readers’ favorites, and after enjoying it, I can certainly see why.

The Recipe

Beef Daube Provençal , from Cooking Light

Scare Factor

Okay, from now on, I’m not calling it the Scare Factor anymore. I’m sick of feeling like a wimp. From now on, it’s the…

Apprehension Meter

This new device measures how apprehensive I am to try a given recipe. For this recipe, the meter reads between medium and high.

I had never used a slow cooker before. They seem incredibly easy—that’s kind of their “thing,” isn’t it?—but still, it was new to me. But what was slightly more intimidating were some of the ingredients. Two pounds of boneless chuck roast. Oh, goodness.

Seasoned home cooks are probably rolling their eyes right now, and…please, go ahead. I kind of deserve it. I’m 24. I should not be afraid of a little raw red meat.

Other ingredients listed on the recipe were fresh rosemary and fresh thyme. Key word: fresh. Fresh = buying fresh, expensive herbs, using 1 teaspoon for a recipe, then letting the rest go bad.

1 bay leaf. Ugh. I’m finally going to have to buy some bay leaves. Bay leaves aren’t scary, it’s just that at the end of my trip to the grocery store, when my basket is already so heavy it’s cutting off circulation to the lower part of my arm and I’m already over budget, an $8 jar of bay leaves seems impossible.

Here’s How it Really Went

Very, very well, actually. This dish was not only one of the tastiest things I’ve ever made, it was also fun. Chopping the garlic and browning the meat, pouring red wine into a pot in thick glugs, sprinkling herbs into a bubbling stew… you just feel like a real chef.

But it wasn’t without its complications, either. For starters, the garlic.

12 little garlic cloves, still all cozy in their peels

I was confident, having recently learned how to peel and chop fresh garlic, but once all of my little cloves were splayed out on my cutting board, I realized that the recipe called for “crushed” garlic. What? How do you “crush” garlic? Does this mean turn it into some kind of paste? I was hungry and didn’t feel like researching, so I just chopped my garlic. It turned out okay, but I think that when I make this again (and I certainly will), I’ll put more effort into crushing the garlic. It seems like that would infuse the garlic flavor into the broth a little more.

Another bump in the road: While chopping the onion, I accidentally chopped my middle finger, too. My first kitchen injury! A little soap, water, and a Batman Band-Aid and I was as good as new.

Chopped onion, carrots, and garlic, basking in the winter sun

I also have to mention that I regret not using more carrots. I used the amount the recipe called for (2 cups), but the carrots turned out to be one of my favorite parts of the stew in the end. They were so flavorful and tender, and next time I’ll be using at least 3-4 cups.

Oh dear God

Then it was onto the meat. I saved this prep step for last, simply because I was dreading touching it. Not to mention, if there’s one thing I hate about cooking, it’s trying to cut raw meat. I ended up cutting the roast into about 1-2 inch cubes, and probably ended up wasting a lot of it, because I didn’t really care to fight for the stuff that was adhered to the thick, solid strips of fat.

Sizzling away, almost ready to be flipped

When it came to browning the meat in the Dutch oven (or just a regular pot, like I used), I remembered a little tip I’d heard from Lucinda Scala Quinn of Martha Stewart Living fame: when browning meat, never crowd the pan. So, I didn’t. And I felt like a genius. I browned the meat in three batches, using my new tongs to flip the meat from side to side in the pot. (Note: if you are a novice cook and are stocking your kitchen for the first time, tongs are a must. I went without them for so long, and now that I have a pair, I wonder how I lived without them.)

Yum! Preparing for the crock pot

The part where it got really fun was adding all of the ingredients back into the pot and dousing them with red wine and beef broth. The smell was just incredible.

I know the recipe called for fresh herbs, and I had every intention of buying fresh rosemary and thyme, but frankly, it was the same thing that happens with the bay leaves (except this time I really did buy bay leaves). I was ready to check out at the grocery store, and adding two more $4 items seemed like too much for my basket and my wallet.

So I went with dried herbs, which I think worked perfectly fine.

If you make this recipe- just leave. Just leave for five hours, or you'll be forced to count down like I did.

One of the biggest challenges of this recipe? Waiting. The recipe gives you the option to bake the stew in the oven, but I don’t have a “stove-to-oven” pot that’s big enough, so I opted to torture myself by letting it simmer and cook for five hours while I eagerly checked off the hours, salivating.

Once five long hours had passed, I cooked a batch of egg noodles (per the serving suggestion on the recipe), upon which I served the stew.

And… oh my gosh. It was delicious. So good. I could hardly believe that I made it.

This recipe is really a must for other novice cooks. If you’re nervous about cooking meat, this recipe is a great intro, because when meat cooks for five hours there’s really no way it can not be done (which is always my main fear). And since it’s simmering away in a winey broth, it can’t dry out. In fact, it gets so incredibly tender, it just falls apart in your mouth.

A great, fairly easy, fairly painless, very delicious, and very fun meal to make on a cold winter weekend.

Fin.