The icy side of coffee

Coffee beans. Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books

More than a few years ago, B.K. (before kids), my husband and I were free-wheeling adults given to do crazy things like shop for groceries late at night. In the nearly empty Kroger store at 10 p.m. (hey, it was late for us, I didn't say we were night owls), we would scoot along, filling up our buggy and dancing along to the oldies played over the in-store p.a. You'd get kind of lost in your own little world, just listening along, selecting your items, thinking you were all alone, until you turned a corner and saw another human. One one trip, we turned into the aisle with the coffee beans and grinder and heard a ghostly voice say "coffee" except it came out in a Vincent Price way "COF-feeeeeeeeee." From our end of the aisle, I couldn't tell if it was from a male or female, but my husband and I got the giggle fits and since then, whenever I've really needed a cup of coffee, that's how it's pronounced around here. COF-feeeeeeee.

For years, I liked my coffee "Airplane" style, if you know what I mean. (and if you don't get the reference, it's ok, we'll just move on). Every morning, I plop a filter followed by two scoops of medium roast into the basket, pour in 4 cups of water and let it brew. No cream, a little bit of Splenda, and I'm good to go. Until this summer, when I discovered bliss in a grande cup - the iced coffee.

Iced coffee. Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books

You may think that iced coffee is simply the morning's hot-brewed coffee poured over ice. But, there you would be mistaken, because the best iced coffee is made from a cold brew; ground coffee beans steeped overnight in water, mixed with sugar to form a concentrate that is then stored in your fridge for whenever the mood, or maybe I should say need occurs and only an iced coffee will do. When this mood hits, you pull the coffee concentrate out of the fridge and mix it 50/50 with milk or half-n-half, add a splash of hazelnut syrup or even a squidge of chocolate syrup, finish with a straw and enjoy a caffeinated pick-me-up. Well, this drink not only is a pick-me-up, it's a rocket booster.

Iced Coffee
adapted from The Pioneer Woman blog

for concentrate
2 quarts cold water
2 cups ground coffee beans
1 cup sugar, more to taste

for iced coffee
Ice cubes
Milk
Flavored syrups such as hazelnut or chocolate, optional

1. To make the concentrate, in a large container with a lid, stir ground coffee into water. Cover with lid and leave at room temperature for 8 hours or overnight.

2. Line a strainer with a coffee filter or cheesecloth and place over two-quart container with lid. Carefully pour cold-brew through the filter and discard the detritus (coffee grounds), in a composter, if you have one. Stir in sugar to taste, cover with lid and place concentrate in refrigerator where it can stay for a couple of weeks, until ready to make iced coffees.

3. When ready to make the beverage of bliss, remove concentrate from refrigerator. In a tall glass, over ice, pour in concentrate, then milk. I like a ratio of 50/50, but this is a very personal thing, depending on the type of bean that you used, the level of sweetness you like and the richness of the milk (whole v. skim, etc.). Stir in syrup, for a flavor kick. Add a straw and keep by side your side all afternoon, taking a sip every now and then, to get you through that evening supermarket trip.

Iced coffee with milk. Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books

Text and images copyright 2011, Lucy Mercer.

Rice Pudding, for Cheryl

More than a few months ago, in the last days of summer, I had a hankering for rice pudding, and because I get kind of lonely in my kitchen, I posted on Facebook "The heart wants what the heart wants, and that's why I'm making rice pudding." My friend Cheryl, who loves rice pudding like I do and has yet to find the perfect recipe, has been after me ever since that post to actually write up the recipe.

Wait no more, Cheryl, here it is, not a fancy rice pudding, just an easy stovetop version, adapted from  the America's Test Kitchen Family Cookbook. It's just the ticket, slightly warm on a cool night, or slightly cool on a warm afternoon. And in the realm of alternative breakfasts, it's a filling start, fortified with dried fruit.

Rice Pudding

2 cups water

1 cup long grain rice

¼ teaspoon salt

4 cups whole milk

2/3 cup sugar

1 ¼ teaspoon vanilla extract

1. Bring the water to a boil in a saucepan, preferably non-stick (you’ll thank me later). Stir in rice and salt. Cover and simmer until rice is plumped, about 15 minutes.

2. Measure milk into a pourable cup and microwave for one minute. Stir milk followed by sugar into the rice. Let cook for about another 45 minutes, until mixture is very thick.

3. Remove pan from stovetop and stir in vanilla.

4. A sprinkle of cinnamon is nice, so is nutmeg. If you’ve ever read or listened to Carmen Deedy's stories about growing up in Havana, Cuba, and Decatur, Georgia, you’ll want to add a squeeze of half of a lime to the mixture. Raisins, craisins and other dried fruit are nice.

Text and images copyright 2011, Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books.

Just a note on the aggressive watermark on this photo. The picture of rice pudding is the most-purloined image from the blog. While I'm happy to lend a cup of sugar or rice to a neighbor, I charge to use my photographs. So, if you're tempted to borrow my picture, please consider this: Rice pudding is as simple a dish as can be, please stir up your own pot of pudding, take it outside to get some good natural light and snap away with either your phone's camera or a point and shoot or whatever you have around. I used a very basic Nikon CoolPix for this shot and PicMonkey to edit it. You can do it, I know you can. Be assured that if you use my photograph, I will call you out on it.

A Southern Favorite: Buttermilk Chess Pie

Buttermilk Chess Pie by Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books

Pie is the new cupcake. Did you know that? That's why I've spent the last month turning out my favorite pies for my family -  from Pie Lab's Apple Cheddar Pie to my favorite Sweet Potato Custard Pie - it's so nice to be able to announce that there is pie for dessert. Here's a buttermilk chess pie that I love, and each time I make it, I think of that Southern tradition of drinking buttermilk, a drink I'm convinced you have to be raised on to appreciate.

My last quarter at the University of Georgia in Athens, I rented a room in an elderly woman's house. Mrs. Willson was a widow and her only daughter lived in Columbus. This was, sigh, more than a couple years ago, and only a few memories rise to the surface - her red brick ranch house with the laundry room off the carport, the old-fashioned medicine cabinet with a slot for dull razor blades, and the refrigerator that she allowed her boarders to share, giving us each our own corner of a shelf. She hid her beer in the back of the fridge, small baby bottles behind the mayonnaise and pickle jars. Mrs. Willson also liked buttermilk and cookies as an evening snack. I always accepted the Grandma's oatmeal cookies, but declined the buttermilk.

To this day, I keep buttermilk in the fridge, but never for drinking straight. It's the base for ranch dressing, with the fresh herbs from the CSA box; it makes a moist banana bread; superlative biscuits (if you use White Lily flour); and this thoroughly excellent Chess Pie.

This is one of the first pies I made. As a new bride, I subscribed to Southern Living magazine for the recipes and the decorating ideas. My husband picked up an issue and remarked that he always liked chess pie. He says nice things about this pie, so I've kept it in my tried and true file. I've cut the sugar by one-fourth, but it's still very sweet. Take your coffee black with a slice of this pie.

Buttermilk Chess Pie by Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books

Buttermilk Chess Pie

1 1/2 cups sugar

2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

5 large eggs, lightly beaten

2/3 cup buttermilk

1/2 cup unsalted butter, melted

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 unbaked 9-inch pie crust

1. Preheat oven to 350.

2. Combine sugar and flour in a large bowl. Add eggs and buttermilk, stirring until blended. Stir in melted butter and vanila and pour into unbaked pie crust.

3. Bake at 350 for 45 minutes or until set. Cool on a wire rack at least an hour before serving. Store leftovers, well-wrapped in refrigerator.

Text and images copyright 2011, Lucy Mercer.

I want candy (bacon)

Candied bacon by Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books

Breakfast during the week is usually a filling bowl of oatmeal, or maybe vanilla yogurt with my homemade granola, some mornings a whole wheat bagel with a shmear. On the weekends, though, I'll put together a bigger breakfast, and have it ready for my sleepyheads when they wander downstairs. Crispy, yeast-raised waffles, or buttermilk pancakes, sometimes with ham, sometimes with this decadent bacon, baked in the oven with brown sugar. This is the sinful salt, sugar and bacon fat matrix - you can't stop at just one piece, so save it for a sometimes treat for your family.

I gave up frying bacon on the stovetop a long time ago. I bake it in the oven now and I have a system that guarantees easy clean-up and crispy bacon.

Candied Bacon
1 pound thick-cut bacon (I use Oscar Mayer hearty thick cut, but other brands will work)

2 tablespoons brown sugar (light or dark will work, I favor dark)

Cayenne pepper, optional

1. Preheat the oven to 350. Take a half-sheet pan or rimmed baking sheet and cover it with foil, making sure to push the edges of the foil against the sides of the pan. Place a nonstick baking grid on top of the foil (if you don't have one, it's ok, but the baking grid will keep the bacon out of the grease).

2. Place the strips of bacon on the baking grid. Sprinkle the strips with brown sugar and a bit of cayenne, if using. Bake at 350 for 25 to 30 minutes, or until desired level of crispiness is reached. Remove from oven and drain on paper towels.

Text and images copyright 2011, Lucy Mercer.

Crispy, sweet date candies

Crispy date balls. Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books

Anyone else remember these sweet treats from their childhood? I'm revisiting the Christmas treats of my youth this year, making orange-pecan-coconut balls, and this no-bake treat. It's a smooth date filling combined with crunchy Rice Krispies and rolled in confectioner's sugar. There's a lot of variations out there, but I'm a purist, sticking to the recipe on the back of the Amport Dates package. Be sure to buy two packages for this recipe.

Date Balls 

2 (8 oz.) packages pitted dates (Amport brand)

1 stick unsalted butter (1/2 cup)

1 cup brown sugar

4 tablespoons water

1 teaspoon vanilla

2 cups Rice Krispies

Confectioner's sugar or coconut for rolling

1. In a saucepan, mix together butter, water, dates and brown sugar. Cook over medium heat until dates disintegrate and form a paste.

2. Remove from heat and add 1 teaspoon vanilla. Stir in 2 cups Rice Krispies. Let mixture cool until it can be comfortably rolled into balls. I used a 1-inch scoop and rolled the balls in confectioner's sugar or coconut. Store in an airtight container.

Look for more ideas for gifts from the kitchen like orange pecan coconut balls , roasted almonds and my never-the-same-way-twice snack mix on A Cook and Her Books. Looking for Christmas cookies? Try Scottish Shortbread and Macadamia Tassies.

Christmas cut-out cookies

This is the Christmas cookie of my childhood. Somewhere in my mom's kitchen is a mimeographed (if you don't what this is, ask a teacher nearing retirement-on-years) copy of this recipe. It was given to her at a Tupperware party sometime in the 70s and has been baked by either her or me every year since. These cookies have a distinctive aroma and taste that I assume comes from the cream of tartar, an unusual ingredient for cookies, but readily available in most supermarkets. These cookies are buttery and sweet, and the dough, while a bit stiff when cold, rolls and cuts beautifully, without a lot of spread in the oven.

You have to sacrifice your kitchen when you decorate these cookies, but to minimize the damage, be organized before inviting the kids in the room. Wax paper on the counters (cheaper than parchment), lots of bowls of icing and shakers of sprinkles. Let the cookies dry for about an hour before putting them in containers and be sure to layer with wax paper.

Christmas Cut-Out Cookies

3 cups confectioner's sugar

2 cups unsalted butter, room temperature

2 eggs

2 teaspoons vanilla

1 teaspoon almond extract

5 cups flour

2 teaspoon baking soda

2 teaspoons cream of tartar

1. In a mixer, cream sugar and butter, add eggs and flavorings. Mix in dry ingredients until dough forms. Pack in an airtight container and refrigerate two hours or overnight. I use a rectangular container and "slice" dough when I'm ready to bake.

2. When ready to bake, preheat oven to 375. Cut off a 2-cup portion of dough and roll out on floured countertop. Use cookie cutters to cut out shapes and place on cookie sheets lined with either a Silpat or parchment paper. Bake each sheet of cookies at 375 for 7 minutes. They will be just brown and delicious. Let cool on wire racks until ready to decorate.

Tips for Success

1. Remember to dip cookie cutters in flour to prevent dough from sticking.

2. Re-roll scraps with scraps, not fresh dough.

3. To quickly cool a baking sheet in order to fill it up with the next batch, remove liner and run pan under cold water. Dry, replace liner, and place cookies on it.


Icing

This is one of those times when you don't really need a recipe: Get a bowl, carefully pour a pound of confectioner's sugar in it. Using a whisk, stir in milk a tablespoon or two at a time until mixture reaches the desired spreadability. I use food coloring to tint small bowls of the icing. Gels will give purer, more intense color. Use a toothpick to swirl little globs of the coloring gel (look for Wilton brand) into the bowls of icing. 

Text and images copyright 2011, Lucy Mercer.

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Random (and sweet) acts of kindness

Christmas and cookies are synonymous in my house. I bake throughout the year, but when the frost is on the pumpkin, the unsalted butter and eggs go on the counter for a day (and ok, maybe a week) of cookie baking. Each holiday season, I make my mom's buttery, crisp Christmas cut-outs and the cookie of my childhood, spicy ginger with jam.

This year, I got a head start on my baking thanks to a fun program sponsored by Imperial Sugar Company, makers of Dixie Crystals sugar. The program is called Bake It Forward and begins with a tin that you fill with your favorite baked goods then give to a friend who in turn can fill it and send it to another friend. Each tin is marked with a code that can be tracked online; tins may be purchased for $5 from Bake It Foward.

I baked two kinds of cookies for my tin - the favorite ginger cookies and all-purpose second runner-up, oatmeal raisin. I mailed them this morning to a fellow cook, baker, friend and blogger from Open Salon. This has been a year of blessings, and I treasure the community of friendship that I've found on Open Salon.

Spicy Ginger Cookies with Strawberry Jam

2 1/4 cups flour

1/2 cup pecan meal

1 3/4 teaspoons baking soda

1/8 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon ground ginger

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground cloves

3/4 cup unsalted butter, softened

1 cup firmly packed brown sugar

1 egg

1/8 cup unsulphured molasses


1/8 cup honey

1/2 cup granulated sugar for coating the unbaked cookies

About 1/4 cup good-quality strawberry jam

1. In a bowl, stir together flour, pecan meal, soda, salt, ginger, cinnamon and cloves; set aside. Preheat oven to 350.

2. In mixer bowl, combine butter and brown sugar; beat until well blended. Beat in egg, then molasses and honey. Gradually add flour mixture, beating until blended.

3. Spread granulated sugar in a shallow pan. Drop cookie dough by heaping tablespoons into sugar. Roll cookies to coat well, shaping them into balls as you roll.

4. Place about two inches apart on parchment-lined cookie sheets. With your thumb, make a small depression in the center of each cookie. Fill each thumbprint with about a 1/4 teaspoon jelly. I find that a baby feeding spoon, the narrow kind with the long handle, is just perfect for scooping the jelly and placing it on the cookie.

5. Bake the cookies until they are brown and feel firm when touched lightly, about 15 minutes. Remove to wire racks to cool. Yield: 30 cookies.

The oatmeal raisin cookies are just homey perfection - buttery, cinnamony, somewhat rustic, and if you underbake them slightly, they will maintain just the right amount of chew. The recipe can be found here - it's from Susan Purdy's "Family Baker."

A note: as I researched this story, I found another "Bake It Forward" that doesn't appear to be a part of the Imperial Sugar program. The other Bake It Forward pops up first in a Google search.  Here's the link for the Imperial Sugar Bake It Forward program. Be sure to check out its Facebook page, too. I'll keep you posted about the tin's progress across the country!

Text & images copyright 2010, Lucy Mercer.

Marcus Samuelsson's lesson on rum and mango mojitos



Marcus Samuelsson's mango mojito by Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books


On my wrist, I wear a golden reminder of the brutal past of slavery in the Caribbean. It’s a charm of a sugar mill, a common sight in St. Croix, now in the U.S. Virgin Islands, where the charm was crafted by Brian Bishop, an artisan creating jewelry in Christiansted. Bishop makes the mills accurate as they exist today - mostly abandoned, metal parts rusted or gone entirely, with trees growing through the doorless entries.

Crucian Gold charm bracelet by Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books

The sugar mills are from the time when the Virgin Islands were a stop on the slave trade, the Triangle Trade as it was known. The Dutch who settled the islands in the 17th century enslaved Africans who were brought to the islands to plant and process the sugar. The sugar, usually in the form of molasses or sugar cane juice, was then taken to the American colonies, usually Boston, to be distilled into rum. The rum, in turn was loaded onto ships and sent to Africa were it was traded for more slaves. The Triangle trade - molasses, rum, humans, molasses, rum, humans.

When contemplating rum, as with many foods, the modern interpretation is vastly different from the historical truth. Rum today is the essence of the tourist-dependent Caribbean - a fruity, umbrella’d cocktail on a sun-bleached beach beside the deep blue sea. A good book, a comfy chair, a cooling drink, and hours spent trying to find the horizon, the place where cerulean sky and azure sea meet. Rum, with its sharp acetone fragrance, is made for fruit, especially the tropical bounty of the Caribbean - pineapple, mango and coconut distract you from the kick.

I suppose I could open up a copy of Mr. Boston's to come up with a recipe to spotlight rum, but in this case, I decided to consult a master, Top Chef Masters Season Two winner, celebrity chef and all-around nice guy Marcus Samuelsson.



Marcus Samuelsson by Pedro Soto/Foodie Atlanta


That’s right, cutie pie competitor Marcus Samuelsson, he of the engaging grin and fierce competitive streak, not to mention spiffy candy-apple red Chuck Taylors, showcased on the most recent season of the reality show that pits seasoned chefs mano a mano in food challenges. Samuelsson bested a field of 16 big-name chefs, coming out on top with a three course meal that described his culinary journey across three continents.

When I asked Marcus about rum drinks, he said immediately, “Well, do you know about rum and Barbados and the slave trade?” Samuelsson has a duality that’s apparent once you know his intriguing biography - born Kassaham Tsegie in Ethiopia 39 years ago, he lost his mother at age 3 in a tuberculosis outbreak, was then adopted by parents in Sweden, his identity changed with one airplane flight - he became Marcus Samuelsson. He found his art at his Swedish grandmother’s apron strings while learning to cook meatballs with lingonberry sauce and other comfort foods, then went on to apprentice at fine European restaurants and eventually emigrated to this country 20 years ago.

What a curious gift to see in a bottle of rum the duality of your ancestry, biological and adopted - the enslaved and the enslaver. To identify with the Africans who were forcefully taken from their homes and families to work in harsh conditions half a world away, and at the same time the Europeans who traded humans for molasses and rum. I want someday to ask Marcus more about this, but today he just had time for a recipe - dark rum (he insisted it must be dark rum), infused with mango, muddled with mint, strained and poured over ice. I'm not one to argue with the chef, especially the one who beat Susur Lee for the Top Chef Master title. (And the drink is delicious.)

Marcus Samuelsson's Mango Mojito by Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books

Marcus’ Mango Mojito

In a large measuring bowl, place three cups of cubed mango from about 3 or 4 fruits. Fill to 4 cup mark with dark rum (I used Cruzan Rum). Chill overnight or for several days - (due to deadlines, I haven’t tested this recipe beyond the two-day mark). When ready to serve, pull out your favorite highball glass, muddle some mint leaves in the bottom, fill with ice, strain infused mango rum over all, and garnish with mint.

In Marcus‘ trademark “why do, when you can overdo” spirit (after all, his fried chicken recipe takes three days, my friends, three days to reproduce to his exacting standards), I created a Caribbean mango sorbet using the flavors of his prescribed drink. I kept it kid-friendly, using rum extract, but there’s no reason that if you’re feeding grown-ups, you couldn’t use rum-infused mango chunks from the above drink, folding them into the sorbet while it is still soft.

Mango and lime sorbet by Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books

Sugar Mill Mango Mint Mojito Sorbet

We call the pit the “mango bone” in our house, it’s a favorite treat of my youngest daughter. When you cut up the fruit, save the mango bones and simmer them in the syrup to intensify the mango flavor. You will need an ice cream mixer for this recipe - I use a Krups with a freezable container.

1 cup sugar

1 cup water

3 to 4 mangoes to yield 2 cups cut fruit, saving the mango bones

2 teaspoons lime juice from ½ lime

3 or 4 mint leaves, chopped

1 teaspoon rum extract

1. In a saucepan over moderate heat, place sugar, water and mango bones. Let come to a boil and cook, stirring occasionally until sugar is dissolved. Remove from heat, add lime juice, mint leaves and rum extract and let cool. After at least 15 minutes, strain through a sieve and pour in container of ice cream machine. Follow manufacturer's instructions from here. Store leftovers, those precious leftovers, in the freezer. Trust me, they won't last long.

Text and Images © 2010, Lucy Mercer, with the exception of the picture of Marcus Samuelsson, which is provided by Pedro Soto of Foodie Atlanta.

Check out Brian Bishop’s spectacular jewelry at Crucian Gold.

If you visit St. Croix today, be sure to spend a morning at the restored working sugar plantation, the Whim Great House, complete with a working windmill/sugar mill.

Marcus Samuelsson and Lucy Mercer by Susan Loper.

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Banana Rehab

I have the best of intentions when I see bananas in the supermarket, especially if the clerk has just put them out and the bunches are creamy yellow, not marred by brown spots, and there is just the slightly fragrant smell, hinting at ripeness just a few days away. The girls will eat these bananas after school, I think, and indeed, if I remember to pack them in my purse, they will eat a banana in the car on the way home. The problem is remembering them...

As the wrestling coach who spoke at my high school graduation said, "If ifs and buts were candy and nuts, we'd all have a merry Christmas." (I can't remember much else about the speech, but the cliche has stuck with me.) So, intentions aside, I have a back-up plan. The plan used to be, and still is, freeze the mushy, smelly reprobates and give them new life as banana bread or snack cake. There is another solution, but this is entirely dependent on timing: the key to successful banana rehabilitation is to catch them just before they go bad.

If you have such a banana on your counter, check the freezer for vanilla ice cream or the fridge for vanilla yogurt, and if the answer is affirmative, get out a saute pan and go to town. Place the skillet over medium heat and sizzle a couple tablespoons of unsalted butter. Peel the banana or (s) as necessary, slicing the length of the fruit, then crosswise into 2-inch lengths. Saute the bananas in the melted butter until softened. Sprinkle a couple tablespoonfuls of brown sugar, light or dark, over the bananas, stir through. A pinch of salt would be ok, as would a finishing glug of vanilla. Have ready bowls of vanilla ice cream or that fridge mainstay vanilla yogurt, I say allow one banana for two servings, and spoon the syrupy bananas over the the vanilla ice cream. Lovely.