Lekshe's Mistake

Little Worlds

All right, I confess. I am a sucker for making things. All kinds of things. I love useless projects whose products disappear into the homes of friends. While I am sensitive to having "stuff," I like to play and I like to make things. Thank god I have friends who like to get them. Just in time for Easter, then...

Making Sugar Eggs, directions by Martha "Sell Now" Stewart

Wait for a dry day for this project, since the sugar won't set as well if it's humid. And make some extras: like real eggs, these are fragile and may break while you're working on them. The directions below may look daunting, but the project is really very easy.

1. Mixing and coloring the sugar.

Place 4 1/2 cups of superfine sugar (2 boxes) in a mixing bowl, and add 3 tablespoons water. Use your hands to work the water into the sugar.

Add tiny drops of liquid or gel food coloring to reach desired shade. One batch makes one large egg (5 inches to 6 inches tall) or several smaller ones. To keep the sugar from drying out while you're working, cover it with a damp paper towel.

2. Molding.

Pack sugar mixture firmly into egg-shape plastic candy molds. Some egg molds have one flat side on which the egg will sit; if you prefer an egg that's rounded on both sides, simply make two halves from the rounded half of the mold.

3. Baking.

Heat oven to 200 degrees Fahrenheit. Invert molded sugar onto a cardboard cake round or baking sheet. If it breaks or any cracks appear, repack and try again.

Transfer cardboard round to oven. (Note: cardboard will burn if the oven's too hot; if you have any doubts about the accuracy of your oven's thermostat, test it with a thermometer or use a baking sheet instead.)

Eggs that are 6 inches or larger should bake for about 20 minutes, smaller eggs for about 10 minutes. Adjust baking times as necessary. When the egg is ready, the surface will feel firm when you press it gently with your finger.

4. Carving.

Eggs can remain solid, but if you plan to hang them from ribbons or use them as boxes, they should be hollowed out. Let egg halves stand at room temperature for about 2 minutes. Then hold one gently in your hand and hollow it out with a melon baller or small spoon, leaving the shell 1/4 inch to 1/2 inch thick.

The sugar that you scoop out can be reused for another egg.

5. Sanding.

Smooth the rough edges so egg halves join easily. Rub the cut edge in a circular motion over sandpaper.

6. Joining halves.

If you are decorating the eggs (see below), do so before you join the two halves.

Pipe Royal Icing (recipe below) onto edge of one egg half, then press other half against it. Hold in place for a few seconds, then set aside to dry.

Decorating Sugar Eggs

Decorate eggs with a sprinkling of sugar or piped-on Royal Icing, which hardens as it dries. Or use a combination of the two in a technique called flocking.

-- Sugaring: Make stripes or plaids, or cover the entire egg with sugar. Dab small amounts of powdered coloring into superfine sugar, or leave it white. Combine two egg whites with a few drops of water (less than a teaspoon); beat with a fork until frothy. Paint egg whites onto sugar egg with a soft paintbrush. Then spoon sugar generously over wet egg whites, and gently shake off excess.

For plaid eggs, make all the sugar stripes in one direction, then let dry, about 15 minutes. Next, make the stripes in the other direction, painting whites directly over the first stripes.

-- Icing: Tint Royal Icing with liquid or paste colors, and transfer to a pastry bag fitted with a small round icing tip (No. 1 or NO. 2). Pipe designs onto egg halves. For more elaborate decorations, use leaf and star tips. Let dry.

-- Flocking: Pipe icing onto an egg, then spoon sugar (tinted or white) over it immediately. Continue, piping and sugaring one small area or design at a time. Let dry, then gently brush off excess sugar.

Royal Icing

Makes about 3 cups

5 tablespoons meringue powder

scant 1/2 cup water

1 pound confectioners' sugar

Beat all ingredients on low speed with paddle attachment until fluffy, 76 to 8 minutes. Thin with water to desired thickness. Use stiff Royal Icing to glue egg halves together and to pipe on decorations like flowers. Medium-stiff icing is good for piping lines.

If not using icing immediately, leave at room temperature covered with a damp paper towel.

I Remember These

Oh sure. Bring the jelly beans and we'll make on on Saturday. *giggles.

Perfidy Allium Sativum - (sounds like a spell, doesn't it?)

It's indecorous, I suppose, to refer to someone's site twice in one day, but since I have so little reputation left to protect, I'll just let you know that Carlos has posted his recipe for Garlic Soup on his blog. This, and one more undershirt will get us through the winter.

So it's settled... my house, tomorrow, 6 o'clock. Bring your own allium sativum. I have olive oil-probably in excess of the local legal limit, so slip in the back door if you would. No shouting, "Olive oillll" as you come up the drive.

I own exactly 12 soup bowls, and as many spoons, so first come, first serve. We'll build a fire. There is red wine somewhere in the house.

I was thinking as long as we are posting recipes, it seems fair that we offer something to those who still eat meat, no? It's another simple recipe, with garlic as the main character.

I suppose this is James Beard's recipe, but it came to me from Bug, the kind mother of Palmer, who lived upstairs from me for two years in college. Bug was a cook by affection, and Palmer was her only son. She worked for an airline. The fortunate collision of those three details meant that for the two years Palmer and I shared a house, Styrofoam boxes of food packed on dry ice arrived on a regular basis. Some mothers send cookies. Bug sent espresso mousse and Chicken with 40 Cloves of Garlic. She also once sent white-on-white hand monnogrammed linen sheets and a 30 foot long windsock.

Chicken with 40 Cloves of Garlic

Just do to a whole chicken whatever your family does. Wash it, pat it dry, pray for it, whatever. I suppose you could tie the legs and tuck the wings under, but I have never enjoyed the sight of a small bird in bondage at the table.

Put it in a large pot which can be put in the oven. The pot must have a lid and you must be able to find the lid.

Chop one stalk of celery. Add to the pot. Two is not unreasonable.

Add a little salt, and pepper.

Peel 40 cloves of garlic. Not 40 heads, as my brother first did. 50 is reasonable if it's snowing or you're depressed or have a heart condition. Leave the extra in the kitchen if you suspect you have vampires.

Add water, one cup or so. More if your heart tells you to. A half cup of dry white wine is helpful (in the pot, you may drink as much as you like, of course).

Add a bit of fresh tarragon from the garden. If your herb garden is snowbound, you can use dried. This dish will not fail without tarragon. Nothing will. You could add parsley, rosemary, thyme--all those things. Or not. If you would like to kiss someone who's coming for dinner, add a whole bay leaf. Try to get this leaf into the dish of the person you wish to kiss. This will take work, but of course, a good kiss is worth working for. When they find the leaf, if you've trained your friends, they will say, "He who gets the leaf kisses the cook!" Try to look surprised.

This next step is important. Make a small ball of dough from flour and water. Roll a snake whose length is the circumference of the rim of the pot. Make a fat snake. Not like a cobra, more like a gardener. Now, put the lid on the pot and put the dough-snake where the lid and pot meet. This will seal in the moisture while baking. Cover the snake-seal with tin foil, all the way around. A single layer will do. It might work without this, but you will spend a half hour opening the pot. If you have children, make double dough and let them make snakes while you cook.

Cook this for about one and a half hours at 375 degrees. Cook rice or some like-minded grain while the chicken cooks.

Open the pot. Be mindful of steam. Let the chicken rest for a few minutes. I know this sounds silly--as if he's been working in that pot--but it helps.

Lift the chicken onto a plate. Celebrate his arrival with some garnish for colour. He will be pale. We're used to that in winter here, but if you're not, you can broil him.

Put the garlic in a several small bowls. It will be very soft and can be used, like butter, on bread. Use an earthy loaf, like baguette.

You can serve a small amount of the liquid in the pot with a bit of cooked rice or other grain. A little ladle full over each serving of chicken is nice, too.

This can be served with Grilled Radiccio, which does add drama, but since that usually means a trip to the store in winter, I say forget it. Have a fresh green. But if you must,

2 heads radicchio, quartered
3 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
2 tablespoons olive oil
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Real Chai

Stop...don't buy a "box" of chai. There's no such thing. Ack!!

Next trip to the supermarket, I am going to put the entire shelf full of chai mix (mix?) in aseptic cartons into a shopping cart and send it rolling down F-- street. Peh!

Here is the Nepali recipe for chai. It's quite different than Kashmiri chai, (good for colds) or that made in India (especially that which is served in little clay cups which are thrown on the ground after use--dust to dust). No shortcuts, but it's worth it. It's best with waterbuffalo milk, but if you haven't got a waterbuffalo (slaughtered it for Dasign, did you?), use cow's milk. Praise Laxmi.

Put equal parts milk and water in a pan. Add a few crushed cardamom pods, whole cloves and cinnamon (crushed bark is nice, but powdered will do) and a few slices of fresh ginger, peeled or not. The more ginger, the more bite the chai will have. Don't be a snob about the spices, just use what you have.

At some point along here, you could add sugar. I often drink it without, but this is thought to be lacking spirit in the Nepalese view...Definitely not the sort of thing you'd offer company. For god's sake, don't use honey. Let yourself go. Cheap white sugar.

Now bring the half milk-half water (with spices) mixture to just short of boil. Stir it every so often.

When this mixture is hot, add some tea. Keep the heat up. I like a mixture of Assam (which is granular) and a good Darjeeling. Truth is, it's a waste of good Darjeeling. The cheapest tea (even dust tea) works fine. Too much tea will leave a bitter, tannic taste. Too little will make a good kids' drink.

Now, let this mixture boil up to the brim of the pot (assuming you are using a small saucepan). Blow on it. It will calm back down. Let it boil up again. Two or three times should do it.

Stir one last time. Pour the lot through a tea strainer into mugs, at least one of which should be chipped, unless you are serving the Queen. I cheat and fish out the ginger and put it in my cup. (I pre-heat the cups on cold mornings...a fetish, I confess, but in Nepal it was sometimes so cold that the water would freeze in the cups after rinsing and half the point of morning tea was to hold the hot cup.)

This is not called "chai" in Nepali. Or at least not outside the city and not until recently. It's called "tea." The Nepali word is "chia," (tea) or "dudh chia" (milk tea). This is the drink that woke up Siddhartha.

(Note for children: I am the only person ever to reside in Nepal and outside the British embassy compound who thought that slurping chai was mannerless. Slurp if you must. Most people do.)

Cheers.