There’s a reason most marshmallows are made in a factory. I always imagined them, if I imagined them at all, as a foam squeezed out of metal tubes into perfect cylinders that traveled haltingly down a conveyer belt to another machine that would “jet-puff” them. That process would inflate them like balloons, at which point they would tumble into the plastic bags that would take them to the grocery store.

It turns out that I was wrong. Marshmallows are made by whipping sugar syrup until fluffy and then allowing to set. The recipe, Stephen Bruce’s from Serendipity Sundaes via Leite’s Culinaria, sounded easy enough. In fact, it was easy enough, to a point. The sugar and corn syrup boiled away without any problem, and although I don’t have a candy thermometer, a spoon and a bowl of ice water were all I needed to check when the syrup was at the soft ball stage. I poured it over my gelatin in my stand mixer, then turned it on and let it whirl away.

Disaster struck soon after. I found I had to keep scraping down the bowl to keep the increasingly voluminous marshmallow fluff contained. I turned away for just a minute to add the vanilla, and when I came back, my marshmallow had made a break for it. The stuff had crept up the beaters like an amorphous monster and leapt the lip of the bowl. At least half of it blanketed the countertop around my still beating mixer. Panicked, I shut the whole thing off, poured the remaining marshmallow into my prepared pan, and called for my dad to eat the spillage.

The saved marshmallow set in the pan, but not quite as stiffly as store-bought marshmallows. Whether this was because they were homemade or because I didn’t let them whip until completion, I’m not sure. The advantage is that they soften very easily. I was able to make some s’mores over the grill, and while the distance between the marshmallow and the fire prevented them from browning, they were gooey and just started to melt the chocolate. They weren’t as good as campfire s’mores, but not that far off either.

(more…)

I really like Bloody Mary mix. One of the best parts of flying is getting a can of Mr. & Mrs. T’s Bloody Mary Mix on the plane. In fact, I really wish it were cheaper in stores, since it’s a bit expensive to take a trip every time I want a hearty and spicy beverage. Someone I know once described a Bloody Mary as her favorite drink because its misdirection: the body gets so distracted by all the healthy vegetable nutrients that it misses the vodka slipping past.

The thing, though, is that vodka is about my least favorite liquor, which is why I usually stick to the mix. I probably never would have thought to make a vodka-based drink if I hadn’t just recently read about Amy Giaquinta’s Bloody Mary riff in Food & Wine. Even so, I probably would have just filed it away if I hadn’t soon after happened to see yellow tomatoes in the grocery store. With all these things working in my favor, I thought I’d give it a try.

I’m glad I did, since the drink is delicious. Fresh tomato juice is a completely different animal from canned, and has exponentially more flavor. More flavor meant that I minded the vodka less. This was actually a bit of a problem for my dad, who had to water it down and booze it up a little before reaching a good equilibrium. Of course, that was also my fault a little, since I was a little lighter on the vodka than the recipe suggested. I also halved it, used Frank’s RedHot sauce instead of Tabasco, and forgot to serve it with celery or ice.

(more…)

I seem to have a penchant for picking really good but discordant recipes.

Here’s another example. I thought that since both dishes were salady and room temperature and involve chopped vegetables, they would go together. It turns out, though, that I should have been looking for complementary rather than similar dishes. The shrimp, from Ina Garten’s Barefoot Contessa Parties! via Leite’s Culinaria, was delicious: meaty and delicate and fresh. It would be really perfect on a picnic on a boat. On the other hand, the eggplant, from Edward and Eugenia Giobbi via Food & Wine, was more sophisticated and would have been at home in a dimly lit restaurant. With the pungent capers and silky avocado, there was no question that it would be a hit, and it was completely gone by the end of dinner. Neither recipe seemed to be able to step up as the main dish, but they didn’t really work as a set of tapas either. I’d recommend both, but under different circumstances.

(more…)