Yesterday was the day. On Friday night, Laurie sent me the recipe for the poolish, the starter that would bring the ciabatta to life. Keep in mind, I’ve never made ciabatta. I’ve always tried whole wheat breads and baguettes. Turns out those simple baguettes are the most difficult to get right. Tip #1 from Laurie: Stick to the Ciabatta – no shaping or scoring involved!

Laurie arrived at 11am and we quickly jumped into making the dough. We used the ciabatta recipe from Jeffrey Hamelman’s Bread, dumping in the poolish, water, salt, and flour. Tip #2 from Laurie: Always use bread flour! (I’m guilty of not doing this… my regular grocery store doesn’t carry bread flour and I often substitute all purpose. Of course, I’m never happy with the result!)

I measured the ingredients for my recipe with measuring cups and spoons while Laurie used a scale to measure the ingredients for her baguette recipe. I should have followed her lead because somewhere along the way, I must have mis-measured and the dough was way too stiff. Without a blink, Laurie said no worries and fixed the dough by adding a bit more water and flour to get it to the right texture. Tip #3 from Laurie: Always use a scale for measuring bread ingredients!

We let the dough proof in their bowls for an hour then flipped them onto the counter and stretched and folded them before letting them rest for another hour.

At this point, the baguettes were ready to be shaped while the easy breezy ciabatta just needed one more round of stretching, folding, and resting. We shaped the baguette dough into small rolls, round loafs, and long skinny loafs.

When the ciabatta was ready to become ciabatta, we dusted the counter with a thick layer of flour, simply cut the dough into the size of loaves we wanted, then flipped them over onto the flour. (See, no shaping involved… this is way too easy.)

We fired the oven up to 550 degrees with a baking stone set on the top rack and a cast iron skillet on the bottom rack. We pre-steamed the oven by pouring a half cup of water or so into the cast iron skillet and quickly shut the oven door. Using the back of a sheet pan and parchment paper, we slid the first round of rolls into the oven and added more water to the cast iron skillet to create more steam. The bread was baked within ten minutes, the ciabatta looking beautifully rustic and the baguettes, well, we both agreed they could use some improvement on the scoring, but the texture was better than any baguette I’ve attempted to make in the past (hence, the sticking to ciabatta!).

It took a while to get all of the bread in and out of the oven, but I was glowing as the rolls and loaves stacked up on my counter.

I admired the texture of the ciabatta, snapping pictures and picking it up for further inspections.

This may be the best bread I’ve ever baked. It’s amazing how a few tips and tricks from a pastry chef can get you just a bit closer to that perfect loaf of bread.

Cascade Huckleberry Crisp
(6 servings)

10 oz. bag of wild red huckleberries
5 oz. (half bag) of wild blue huckleberries
3 tablespoons granulated sugar
1/2 cup regular rolled oats
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1/4 cup emmer flour (I used Bluebird Grains)
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 cup butter

Place huckleberries (frozen or thawed) in a 2-quart square baking dish. Stir in the granulated sugar.

In a medium bowl combine the oats, brown sugar, emmer flour, and cinnamon. Cut in butter until mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Sprinkle topping over huckleberries.

Bake in a 375 degree oven for 30 to 35 minutes or until huckleberries are tender and the topping is a golden brown.

Credit: Recipe is a modified version of Better Homes & Gardens fruit crisp recipe.

The only thing missing is a heaping scoop of Whidbey Island Almond Vanilla Ice Cream…

I waited until the last minute to throw together the menu and was afraid I would not be able to acquire my choice ingredients. I got up early on Saturday to visit the University District Farmers Market in search of a local ham to be the centerpiece of the meal. One vendor politely told me they had already ran out, and another looked at me like I had two heads. I felt defeated and a bit intimidated through the process, but I did manage to pick up a sack of potatoes from Alden Farms, some chives from an unmarked flower stand, and a tub of Fromage from Mt. Townsend Creamery.

I found my local ham at the Metropolitan Market, made by Hempler’s in Ferndale, WA. I also picked up milk from Twin Brook Creamery, some green beans (a staple at Lybecker family gatherings), and parmesan cheese. A few more items were contributed by my amazing mom-in-law and here is how the menu came together:

Mt. Townsend Creamery Fromage with Oregon Hazelnuts and Orange Zest
served with Eat Local camelina crackers

Mom’s Whole Wheat Bread
made with Twin Brook Creamery milk and Bluebird Grains cracked emmer

Bok Choy Salad
with green onions, chow mein noodles, slivered almonds, and soy sauce vinaigrette

Alden Farms Mashed Potatoes
with locally grown chives

Sautéed Green Beans
with fresh lemon juice, slivered almonds, and parmesan cheese

Hempler’s Slow Cooked Ham
with Rockridge Orchards spiced apple cider, stone ground mustard, and honey

Grand Central Bakery Coconut Cake
with vanilla bean ice cream

I felt the pressure to please everyone with dinner, but I relaxed the day of and had fun with it.  The meal received plenty of thumbs up and my husband’s mom even called me the Rockstar of Easter! I call that a glowing success.

The first course was a surprise; Charlie refused to tell me what he was preparing with the tomatoes and asparagus I saw him pull out of his grocery bag. While I did some prep work so my dishes were mise en place, Charlie put together a cheese plate with Mt. Townsend Creamery’s Seastack and Fromage, some water crackers, and dried cranberries. This was a freebie course – an oversized amouse bouche so to speak.

When I was finished rolling pasta, I sat and enjoyed a glass of sparkling wine from O.S. Winery in anticipation of the first course. Charlie brought to the table a ramekin filled with asparagus risotto set on a plate with a tomato and asparagus salad dressed with lemon vinaigrette. He served it with a Portuguese white wine we picked up from our local wine shop, West Seattle Cellars. How could I possibly follow this act?

I hand made ravioli for the pasta course. I completely botched the first go round, but luckily had prepared enough filling for a second try. I baked a salmon fillet from the Loki Fish Company and mixed it with Mt. Townsend Creamery’s Fromage, lemon juice, and dill. The finished raviolis were dressed in a dill butter sauce.

For the meat course, Charlie put forth one of his Chef signatures. Marinating a t-bone steak for hours, letting it come to room temperature, then grilling on each side for a calculated amount of time to achieve the perfect doneness. He served it with a red wine and balsamic reduction that I was mopping off the serving plate. The dish was accompanied by a glass of Cuillin Hills Cabernet Franc.

I chose an old standby for dessert, the same one I made last Valentine’s Day – Chocolate Decadence. I couldn’t resist the heart-shaped cake oozing from the middle with chocolate. I topped it off with a dusting of powdered sugar and a scoop of vanilla bean ice cream.

Sharing the kitchen with my husband, showing off our cooking skills, spending hours eating and drinking wine; we should do this more often. I wonder how Chef and Cook will celebrate Valentine’s Day next year?

In year’s past I have made bread rolls from scratch using my Mom’s Whole Wheat Bread recipe and I was asked to contribute the same this year. Knowing I could not source all of the ingredients from the state, I felt I had to make one more dish.

I wandered the West Seattle Farmer’s Market with my husband contemplating what to make. “Does your family like swiss chard? What if we do a fruit and cheese plate? How about glazed carrots?” The answers I got were, “Nope. Nah. Uh uh.”

We finally settled on a salmon spread served with locally made crackers. The ingredients – Fromage cheese from Mt. Townsend Creamery, rosemary from Stoney Plains Organic Farm, and salmon from the Loki Fish Company. After we made the purchases, my doubt began to take back over. The salmon wasn’t technically from Washington State; it was caught in Alaska. I was beginning to think I failed the challenge.

Discouraged, but determined to complete the dish that was decided, I moved on to the bread. Surprisingly, instead of dwelling on the fact that it was not a local dish, I saw this recipe as an opportunity to incorporate local ingredients. I added Bluebird Grains’ cracked emmer to the recipe and the liquid mixture contained milk from Twin Brook Creamery. I was feeling positive… until I killed the yeast.

I was working way too quickly and not measuring temperatures diligently. I poured the liquid into the bowl with the whole wheat flour and yeast when it was twice as warm as it should have been. Steam rose up from the mixture, but I was hopeful. I kneaded the dough and left it on the counter to rise.

But it didn’t. I formed the un-risen dough into small round balls and crossed my fingers they would miraculously rise up for the second round. They didn’t. The bread had failed.

We showed up at grandparents’ doorstep with unleavened bread and the salmon spread.

My mother-in-law thought they were both delicious, the brother-in-law went back for seconds, and our family friend raved over the round little bread balls. I wanted to share my accomplishments of incorporating local ingredients. I wanted to wave from my boat saying, “Look at me, look at me. I may have failed, but I certainly tried.” But I didn’t have time to take pride; there were turkey, mashed potatoes, and grandma’s dressing to be devoured.

Of course, being a lover of food, I had to serve some bites to go along with the drinks. I assembled a cheese plate with Rogue Creamery’s Smokey Blue, aged Gouda, and Mt. Townsend Creamery’s Fromage. They were accompanied by some La Panzanella crackers, dried cherries, and walnuts.

I made some pizza dough from scratch, topping one pie with home made tomato sauce (using my canned tomatoes), slices of fresh mozzarella, and basil, and the second pie with a combination that is quickly becoming a favorite of my hubby and friends. I brushed the dough with olive oil and baked on the lowest rack in the oven for eight minutes. Then I layered on mozzarella, red onion, sliced apples, grilled chicken, smoked blue cheese, and chopped walnuts.

For dessert we had to have cake for Chris and Renee to slice into, but I couldn’t stop there. I also baked up some mini cupcakes and dressed them in Bella Cupcake Couture.

The table was complete when Chris and Renee arrived with a chocolate loaf and their infamous cheese ball made with Old English, blue cheese, and walnuts. The food didn’t last for long.

The food was delicious, the drinks were flowing, and bride- and groom-to-be were glowing.

The aunts and uncles politely let us impatient kids start the buffet line. There were plates, and then forks, followed by a slow cooker of Grandpa’s beans, which often prompted a rendition of “beans, beans, the more you eat, the more you…” As a shy seven-year-old, the lyrics tinted my face red.

I started as usual with the carved turkey, white meat only, and mashed potatoes with gravy made from the turkey drippings. Some of the side dishes changed with the distinct seasons of Northwestern Minnesota, like Aunt Kari’s scalloped corn and Uncle Dave’s smoked walleye. He was a fishing guide and often brought the local star of our 10,000 lakes back to the family table. The staples were my mom’s bok choy salad and Keith and Connie’s wild rice hotdish, a Minnesota-style casserole in which the rules of ingredients are endless.

The most comfortable component on my plate was my grandma’s homemade bread. There was love in those loaves and I felt it with every bite.

Our church closed its doors when I reached high school and our Sunday dinners slipped further and further apart. I went off to college, and then replanted myself on the West Coast. The comfort and familiarity of a meal with my oversized family became a memory and a rare occasion.

Although I return to the Midwest often, I long to recreate the feeling and traditions of my family’s weekly feast in my West Seattle home.

The opportunity presented itself just a few weeks ago when my grandma and parents came to visit my husband, Charlie and me. On Sunday, we invited my husband’s family and my aunt and uncle who live nearby, scrounging up enough bodies to constitute a dinner party. My husband’s eyes were wide when I told him we were going to feed eleven people; I just smiled and started putting together the menu.

I roasted a chicken from Stokesberry Sustainable Farms, mashed potatoes, made gravy from the chicken drippings, and glazed medallion-sized carrots. We ate mixed greens with goat cheese and pecans and corn bread muffins, a quick bread substitute for my grandma’s loaves. I baked an apple raspberry crisp for dessert. As I looked around the table, I saw forks moving from plate to mouth, then wide smiles. I heard conversation echo. The sensation of Sunday supper filled the room.

Charlie had already finished getting ready for the day by the time I even found a recipe I could morph. I googled blueberry corn muffins, blueberry streusel, blueberry corn bread. Nothing struck me until I stumbled upon cornmeal coffee cake. I closed my eyes and traveled back fifteen years to bright-eyed me sliding my oversized fork down the side of brown sugar-laden coffee cake that mom had just pulled from the 425-degree oven.

I took a deep breath, opened my eyes, and came back to the present. I rushed to the pantry for the cornmeal, flour, baking powder, salt, sugar, and oil, and to the refrigerator for the eggs, milk, and blueberries. I preheated the oven to the magic temperature and mixed the dry ingredients together in my bold blue Crate & Barrel mixing bowl.

Digging a well into the mixture, I added the milk, eggs, and oil, beating them together whilst incorporating into the dry ingredients.

[This is where I wished I had tossed in a half cup of blueberries into the batter… But don’t worry! I have since added this step to the full recipe.]

I evenly distributed the batter between my four crisply white ramekins and topped each with a handful of blueberries.

After sprinkling the top with a tablespoon of sugar, I slid them into the oven for twenty minutes of baking.

The finished blueberry cornmeal coffee cakes were playful to the eye and satisfying to the tummy. Charlie even told me to keep this one in the recipe file. If that isn’t a compliment to a cook, I’m not sure what is.

Follow this link for the Blueberry Cornmeal Coffee Cake recipe.

Towards the end of the market, the blueberry peddler snuck over to steal a few bites of hummus and before long she returned with a half flat of blueberries… “Want to trade?” Absolutely! I left the market with six pints of luscious purple berries.

How was I going to use up six pints of blueberries? I got to work brainstorming a list: blueberry sage halibut, blueberry cinnamon rolls, blueberry spritzer, blueberry crisp, blueberry smoothie, blueberry jam. I eventually settled on the cinnamon rolls, crisp, and the jam.

The filling in the blueberry cinnamon rolls (recipe found here) was a concoction of butter, Marilyn’s cinnamon walnut pecan nut butter, brown sugar, and whole blueberries. It a long process with the rise of the dough and the bake, but it was well worth the wait.

On Monday night, we had an out-of-town friend over for dinner. My husband crafted his infamous Spaghetti and Seafood and I was left in charge of dessert. I topped blueberries, sugar, and lemon juice with a crumbly mixture of brown sugar, flour, oatmeal, and butter (classic blueberry crisp). Fresh out the oven, I served the sweet dessert with French vanilla ice cream.

I nibbled on a few for a snack and sprinkled some on my cereal, but I still had three pints of plump berries left at the end of the week. I bought cute little mason jars and decided to make a no fuss freezer jam with sugar, pectin, lemon juice, and crushed blueberries. The finished product was sweet and tangy, the perfect accompaniment to freshly baked drop biscuits.

I was in blueberry heaven for less a week, but I plan to guard the jars of jam as a reminder of the mid-summer long after it is gone.

My palate has expanded light years since moving to the Pacific Northwest and perhaps so has my mom’s, still planted in northwestern Minnesota, but the more I look back the more seedlings I uncover. My brothers and I did eat our fair share of macaroni and cheese with hot dogs (economical), venison chops (our freezer was stocked for months after hunting season), and every version of hotdish (Minnesota for casserole) you could imagine, but there were a few shining stars. Experiments and new recipes were thrown in to shake up our taste buds.

One that recently comes to mind is bread pudding. Back then I didn’t realize it was such a jewel, but I recently rediscovered the recipe and developed a new love for a refreshed version. On a quiet Saturday, I went a little overboard with corn muffins. They were piled high, overflowing from a woven basket, and they were not exiting fast enough. Unwilling to throw them away, I scoured a dozen recipes in an attempt to repurpose the muffins. This is when I stumbled upon bread pudding. My mom’s version contained stale white bread and raisins, but I kicked my version up a notch. I broke apart the corn muffins, replaced the raisins with frozen berries I found in the back of my freezer, and whipped up the egg and milk mixture to pour over top. The result was heavenly – sweet, not too heavy, with a delightful texture.

Now I make cornbread just for the cornbread pudding. Make your own using the recipe found here.

Stay tuned for more snippets of the culinary side of my upbringing.