All Posts By Food Network Kitchen

Melted Ice Cream Is Your Friend

by in Holidays, December 23rd, 2010
Don't cry over melted ice cream.

Reading through Food Network Magazine’s 50 Holiday Drinks booklet, you’ll notice a couple of recipes that call for melted ice cream.  Homemade eggnog usually requires making a custard, which isn’t difficult to do, but takes time and makes a lot of cooks nervous. Melting a good-quality ice cream is a great time-saving technique that can give you the same rich, luscious end-product as making custard from scratch.  In the booklet, you’ll find a French Vanilla Eggnog (recipe #16), but with the same combination of liqueurs, you could easily replace the French vanilla ice cream with coffee or chocolate ice cream. And with a little tweaking, such as replacing the crème de cacao with amaretto, you could push the limits even further by using a festive, seasonal ice cream flavor like pumpkin pie. Choose a couple of your favorite ice cream flavors and see what kind of fancy eggnogs you can come up with . . . have fun with it!

French Vanilla Eggnog from 50 Holiday Drinks

Whisk 3 cups milk, 6 tablespoons sugar and 1 teaspoon nutmeg in a pitcher or punch bowl; whisk in 4 ounces each brandy and rum, 2 ounces crème de cacao and 3 cups melted French vanilla ice cream.

By Andrea Albin, Recipe Tester, Food Network Kitchens

Dressed-Up Punch

by in Holidays, December 21st, 2010
Holiday drink #25 in Food Network Magazine's 50 Holiday Drinks booklet: Shirley Temple Punch.

The Shirley Temple Punch (# 25 in Food Network Magazine’s 50 Holiday Drinks insert) is a kid-friendly favorite that can easily be dressed up with a festive ice float:

Layer sliced oranges and maraschino cherries in a 10-inch Bundt pan.  Cover with 3 to 4 cups of water and freeze until completely set.  Run cold water over the Bundt pan to help release the ice ring.  Place in the bottom of your serving bowl and top with punch.

If you’re serving adults, stir in some bourbon, gin or vodka for a spiked refreshment (they’ll still love the ice ring!).

Shirley Temple Punch from 50 Holiday Drinks

Mix 5 cups ginger ale, 2 cups orange juice and 1/2 cup grenadine in a punch bowl. Add sliced oranges and maraschino cherries. Serve over ice.

By Leah Brickley, Recipe Tester, Food Network Kitchens

Easy Holiday Drink: Winter Slushes

by in Holidays, December 20th, 2010
Holiday drink #47 in Food Network Magazine's 50 Holiday Drinks booklet.

I knew that I was finally an adult when my mother let me have my first Brandy Slushie (#47 in Food Network Magazine’s 50 Holiday Drinks booklet) at our annual holiday party one year.  I tried to recreate this recipe from memory for the booklet, and when I gave my mom a copy of the magazine, she approved, but said that something was missing.  It turns out that all those years she had boiled her water and sugar with a secret bag of green tea!  The difference with the tea is subtle; either way the slushes are yummy.  Experiment with your favorite tea and start a family tradition.

Brandy Slushes from 50 Holiday Drinks

Bring 1 cup each water and sugar to a boil; cool completely. Mix with 1-1/2 cups brandy, 2 cups orange juice and 1/2 cup lemon juice in a baking dish; freeze until slushy. Scoop into glasses, top with seltzer and stir to desired slushiness.

By Leah Brickley, Recipe Tester, Food Network Kitchens

This blog is now officially

by in View All Posts, February 3rd, 2010

The pictures of Dave blog:

doritosironchef

Dude, also, legitimately not an attempted viral marketing campaign; we actually do this (not always with Doritos — previous iterations have been Cheez Whiz, Spam, and, much less compellingly, pork tenderloin), and we take it fairly seriously, to the extent that it’s no longer judged, as certain people had a tendency to get a little out of control with the bragging rights winning bestows. [us via eater and videogum]

Rupa Bhattacharya, Culinary Writer

Separated at birth

by in View All Posts, February 2nd, 2010

Apologies for the long hiatus — what better to come back with than this, via the New York Post, on potential new careers in the culinary world, and our very own Dave:

courtesy Michael Sofronski/NYDN
Image courtesy Michael Sofronski/NYDN

Which is sort of oddly reminiscent of old careers available in the culinary world, by virtue of this shot from former ICA challenger Ludo Lefebvre‘s cookbook:

Image courtesy Stephen Wayda/Crave
Image courtesy Stephen Wayda/Crave

Rupa Bhattacharya, Culinary Writer

Eye of Newt, Neck of Duck

by in View All Posts, December 14th, 2009

I don’t dine out much. But recently, upon the advice of Rupa B., I found myself in a wonderful Swiss restaurant, accompanied by mom, dad, and girlfriend. The momdad was in town on a brief visit. Parents and girlfriend were meeting for the first time. Ice was being broken, jokes were being cracked, good feelings were in the air. Menus were passed.

I immediately zeroed in on an appetizer that Rupa had been singing hymns to for months, the dish that in truth, though unbeknownst to anyone else at the table, had landed us there in the first place: braised, breaded, and fried duck necks. Not legs, not breasts, not even livers. Necks. Rupa had described it in its crispy, bony, messy glory as a sort of ennobling of the Buffalo wing, which was more than enough to sell me on it. My mother scanned the menu and honed in on the same. Somewhere a needle spun wildly.

My mother, you must know, is a woman of strong opinions, strenuously expressed. Her moral compass is nothing if not a sensitive instrument. I have known this for 38 years. I have also known that it can chart some very odd courses. And yet somehow one is prone to forgetting. Until something comes up. In a restaurant. Something like duck neck.

I was on the verge of ordering the vertebral morsels when my mom got wind of it and went…BALLISTIC. It was as if the chef had put the contents of his shower drain on the menu under the cynical supposition that someone would be idiot enough to pay for it-and that someone turned out to be her own flesh and blood.

“Ridiculous! $8.50 for DUCK NECK!? There’s no meat in it! This is Depression food! No, worse, shtetl cuisine!  Your great grandparents did not come to America for you to eat duck neck. Leave the duck necks in Kiev! Blechhh!!!”

The notion that a restaurant would show such little regard for its customers as to attempt to serve them the NECK of a DUCK; and worse, the idea that her son would show such little self-regard, would actually encourage the practice by ordering a DUCK’S NECK, produced paroxysms of maternal indignation that nearly derailed the entire evening and resurfaced in blood pressure-raising spasms throughout the weekend. I’ve long been fascinated by the ways different cultures value types and cuts of meat, the ways meaning gets inscribed in meat, such that animal anatomy can be read as a kind of map of a culture. But tonight was not the night to engage in a discussion of cultural relativity, sociology, or the ethics of offal-eating. The duck neck would have to wait.

Until last night, that is, when I returned with Rupa. This time around the menus were unnecessary. We sat at the bar, we drank good ale, and we gnawed our duck necks with extreme relish, in peace and without compunction. They turn out to be extremely, um, skeletal. And delicious.

Mom, you missed out.

Jonathan Milder, Research Librarian

It Came From the Library: Something about Cookbooks

by in News, November 23rd, 2009

For this librarian’s money the must-read article of last week was Adam Gopnik‘s brilliant, lyrical meditation on the pull of cookbooks and what they teach us about desire and disappointment. Though Gopnik at times risks overburdening the cookbook with significance (“Anyone who cooks knows that it is in following recipes that one first learns the anticlimax of the actual, the perpetual disappointment of the thing achieved.”), his essay got me thinking about why it is that this deep into the digital age, with old media fast collapsing around it, with the proliferation of blogs and unending flows of free content/recipes/instruction, the cookbook — the kind you can touch and stain and dogear and shelve, the object -- endures, a bright (i.e. profitable) spot in the beleaguered world of book publishing. And it seems to me that cookbooks have held up so well because as books go there is something fundamentally different about a cookbook. It’s an obvious point, but it’s not simply that a cookbook is also a sort of manual, a tool (plenty of self-help guides fit that description), or that a high percentage of cookbooks are purchased as gifts (it’s tough to wrap a bow around an e-book).

The difference, I think, is not in the uses the cookbook is put to; it runs deeper and relates to how a cookbook is, or rather is not, read. Because in a way we don’t read cookbooks so much as we reread cookbooks. Unlike other forms of printed matter, we return to cookbooks again and again. And in the process a relationship forms, an intimacy results. We need cookbooks on our shelves because their presence matters, because their materiality is a form of companionship, and because nothing the digital age has come up with confers presence, offers a person something they can form an attachment to. Respected newspapers my close, beloved magazines may shut down, but cookbooks, I suspect, won’t be going away any time soon.

Jonathan Milder, Research Librarian

It Came From The Library: On Jonathan Gold

by in News, November 6th, 2009

The restaurant critic Jonathan Gold may have won a Pulitzer for criticism (the first food writer to do so), but I prefer to think of him as LA’s poet laureate. Check out the profile of Gold in this week’s New Yorker (subscription only) and you’ll understand why. Or better yet click on over to the LA Weekly for an all-you-can-read buffet of Gold’s writing. He’s the best.

Jonathan Milder, Research Librarian

Fritter, Happier

by in View All Posts, October 28th, 2009

Am pretty sure the latter was posted a few months ago, but is there a new trend I’m not aware of, of discussing food and wine in Radiohead terms?

From Jarrett Wrisley‘s piece in today’s Atlantic Food Channel:

And this: “Black pepper, cumin, soil and leather. Elegant. A hint of fruit, but not a lot…Cherries. They’re playing ‘Paranoid Android’, which is also nice.” I wrote that about the Meerea Park Terracotta 1998, which an iPod at the wine bar decided to pair with Radiohead’s best album. Welcome to the New World.

Then there was a Thomas Wines Kiss 2007 that was aggressively oaked and very fruity, and finally the Brokenwood Graveyard 2005. The Graveyard Shiraz is probably the Hunter’s most celebrated red. That wine, which was equal parts red fruit and savory earth, tasted like it would age wonderfully, but it was admittedly strange at first. Sort of like OK Computer.

Which is all completely fine, and understandable on the face of it, but in the context of my recently having seen this in McSweeney’s, I have to wonder.

(Unrelatedly, Daniel Maurer over at Grub Street had a whole analogy comparing David Chang to Fugazi-era Ian MacKaye, which I can totally get behind, though if it were my metaphor, I’d probably err on the side of Minor Threat-era.)

Rupa Bhattacharya, Culinary Writer

Goats R Us

by in View All Posts, October 27th, 2009

Yeah, sure, I'll take care of your landscaping [photo courtesy Rent-A-Ruminant]
photo courtesy Rent-A-Ruminant
So I am sure there are all kinds of merits to goat-powered crop control, and I am sure it’s environmentally friendly, and they’re completely adorable, and all of that — but even if the entire industry didn’t exist, someone would have to invent it, if only to be able to have a company named “Rent-a-ruminant.”[via]

Meanwhile, The Onion provides the goat’s side of the story.

Rupa Bhattacharya, Culinary Writer