Srečno novo leto! Happy New Year!

 

We returned home to California with happy memories, Christmas gifts, and a single loaf of potica from the stash I had taken with me. The rest was happily consumed or given away during our week in New York.

The surviving loaf was all that remained of the dairy-free artisan batch I baked and froze in mid-December. It defrosted in my luggage on December 20th and ten days later we are still eating it.

Last night, we toasted the new year with the three family traditions I grew up with:  a few slices from that well-traveled loaf of potica,  homemade Scottish shortbread, and eggnog. 

The potica still tastes good. It remains surprisingly moist, although a little toasting this  morning seemed to perk it up. 

Potica has staying power, in more ways than one.

And there is plenty more left in the freezer, from the other batch I made, using the traditional family recipe. 

Happy New Year! 

Vesel božič iz New Yorka! Merry Christmas from New York! (And a potica update)

                                     

Greetings from chilly New York City, where we have gathered with our children to celebrate Christmas. Last year, thanks to Covid, we had to cancel the trip and isolate at home in California. So I am grateful to be here, despite the wind and rain and yesterday's 40 degree temperature drop. We even had a little snow. 

I may not have brought enough warm clothing, but I had plenty of potica stowed in my luggage. Multiple loaves and two different kinds: the tried-and-true family recipe--and my latest experiment.

That new one is actually a double variant. It's a meet-up of dairy-free and the popular Artisan Bread in Five no-knead approach. I tried it for the first time last December, in preparation for the New York trip that never happened. It turned out quite well. Unfortunately. the person for whom it was intended--the girlfriend of the son who lives in New York--never tasted it. 

I posted that recipe earlier this year, here, as No-Knead Artisan-Style Potica. 

This time around, I decided to make one change, to get a little closer my family recipe. Instead of the coconut cream of last year, I used a plant-based sour cream. And I skipped the apricot jam I had added to the filling last year, as a sort of marker for identifying the dairy-free loaves. (Instead, I just shaped the loaves a little differently.) 

I am happy to report that the latest variant was quite a hit with our sons--and the dairy-free girlfriend. My husband had already given his seal of approval, when we tried it at home. Everyone agreed that it was hard to tell the difference between the original family recipe and this one. 

No-knead Artisan-Style Potica (dairy-free)

                                               

 

 

Caraway Cheese Tart with Buckwheat Crust (a !0th Anniversary Update)

 

This original version of this dish was the featured entree for the Week Five Dinner  of my 2012 year of Slovenian cooking. 

It was based on a recipe in Woman's Glory: The Kitchen, the mid-century cookbook published by the Slovenian Union of America that inspired my year-long cooking adventure. At the time, I thought it would be just another American-style French quiche. But it turned out to be something different and more complex: Denser than the usual quiche, and with the flavor of Central Europe, thanks to the caraway seasoning. 

For this 10th anniversary remake, I made a few changes, both planned and unplanned.

The biggest change: I made a buckwheat crust. I also made a little more of it this time and pre-baked it before filling. 

With the filling, the changes were subtle, but they made the dish even tastier. Instead of the original onion and bacon, I used shallot and pancetta, because we had them on hand. Originally, I had substituted fat-free Greek yogurt for sour cream, which made the tart a little dense and chewy. This time, I tried light labne, a cultured Middle Eastern dairy product that is probably the equivalent of light sour cream.

The result:  Even better than the first version, with even more of a Slovenian tang because of the buckwheat! 

Caraway Cheese Tart with Buckwheat Crust

For Filling:

6 thin slices pancetta, chopped
4 tablespoons minced shallot (or onion)
6 eggs
6 tablespoons light labne (or sour cream)
1/2 teaspoon salt
pepper to taste
1 teaspoon caraway seed, divided
1 1/2 cups gruyere cheese, grated

For Crust: 

1 cup all purpose flour

1/2 cup buckwheat flour

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup olive oil

1/4 cup milk

Easy Press-In Buckwheat Crust:  In the bottom of a 10-inch pie or tart pan, mix together the all-purpose flour, buckwheat flour and salt. In a cup, beat the oil and and milk with a fork and stir the mixture into the flour. Mix with fingers into crumbs. Press into pan. Cover with foil or pie weights and pre-bake for 10-15 minutes in a 350 degree oven. Let cool.  

For the filling:  Brown pancetta and shallot (or onion) together, let cool. Beat eggs, labne (or sour cream) and seasonings, using half the caraway seed.  Stir in the cheese and pancetta-onion mixture.  Spread filling in pre-baked crust. Sprinkle with remainder of caraway seeds.  Bake at 350 degrees for 25 minutes or until firm.

Beli Kruh (aka white bread), a 10th Anniversary Update success

 

Back in March, I started to revisit my year of weekly Slovenian dinners. I have now reached the halfway point. Many of those dishes from 2012 were familiar, since they had become favorites over the past decade. Others had fallen by the wayside, so it was a chance to rediscover them.

Sometimes the most rewarding recipes were the ones that didn't quite work the first time. This bread recipe was one of them, probably because it had to meet an impossibly high standard: my memories of my grandmother's bread. I was determined to recreate it. She served it every time we visited, when it was still warm from the oven. 

I remembered a high-rising homestyle loaf with a texture that was light and tender, but also hearty. My brother (also a baker) describes a somewhat coarse crumb. My husband wonders if it was cake-like. My grandmother never used recipes. I have no idea how she worked her magic. But I figured there might be a hint in my collection of vintage Slovenian American cookbooks.

The Progressive Slovene Women of America caught my eye with a recipe they called by two names: white bread or beli kruh (which I initially misunderstood as a reference to the bread's beauty rather than its color!).The ingredients were ordinary enough, but the method was more elaborate than similar recipes, because it called for an initial sponge and then three more risings.

The first time I made this recipe, the bread looked beautiful (see below) and the flavor and texture were pretty good. But it was nothing out of the ordinary. Not worth the extra time and effort. So I went on to try other recipes. Potato bread, after my mother recalled that her mother might have used potato water. A special braided bread similar to challah that was lovely, but not like my grandma's delectable everyday bread. 

And then my 2022 Anniversary Update brought me back to the original bread recipe I had tried. And I saw the problem. I had used bread flour, which absorbs more liquid, rather than the standard all purpose flour that mid-century bakers would have used. And I had compounded the problem by either ignoring or misunderstanding the implications of "6 cups sifted flour." By measuring before (or without) sifting, I would have ended up with 20-30 percent more flour than the recipe called for. No wonder I had trouble kneading it all in! 

So made the necessary adjustments and tried to make the bread again, following the recipe closely. And then I made it one more time, just to be sure I had it right.

Prepared correctly, this recipe turned into a winner! It is very close to the bread I remember savoring in my grandparents' small bungalow in Cleveland, all those decades ago. In the recipe that follows, you do not have to sift the flour. But I have tried it both ways, and I think sifting may improve the texture. So why not try it the old-fashioned way, at least once? 

White Bread or Beli Kruh (adapted from The Progressive Slovene Women of America)

1 tablespoon yeast
1 cup lukewarm water
113 g all purpose flour (= 1 cup sifted or about 3/4 cup unsifted)
1 egg, beaten
2 tablespoons sugar

678 g all purpose flour (= 6 cups sifted or about 4.5 cups unsifted)
2 teaspoons salt
1 tablespoon melted butter
1 cup lukewarm water

additional flour, as needed

(Note about sifting: It is probably optional if you measure by weight, but I think sifting improves the texture.)

First make the sponge: Combine the first five ingredients. Let rise in a warm place until doubled in size.

Add remaining ingredients to the sponge, using enough additional flour to make a soft dough. Mix well and knead until smooth.

Put dough in an oiled bowl and let rise in a warm place until doubled in size. Punch down and let rise for a second time until doubled. 

Form dough into two loaves and put in oiled bread pans. Let rise for the third time until not quite doubled. (Or make one large loaf and one smaller flatbread, about 1/2 inch thick. Or make two free-form round artisan-style loaves.)

Bake at 350 degrees for about 45 minutes for a standard loaf, less time for flatbread. Brush with melted butter during baking if you wish. Let cool before eating. Enjoy!

Šmoren, Revisited

Šmoren at home

The second meal I made for my 2012 year of ethnic cooking was a breakfast dish and a new discovery: Šmoren. It sounded like a cross between a big pancake and an omelet that gets chopped and stirred into bits.

That first attempt turned out to be an eggy treat I quite liked, partly because the batter could also be used to make crêpes, otherwise known as palačinke in Slovenia. (Also known in my childhood as jelly rolls.) I went on to try a less eggy recipe. I also came up with a buckwheat version. They were all good. 

In honor of the 10th anniversary of my year-long cooking adventure, I decided to try one more šmoren recipe from a classic cookbook I acquired more recently: Pots and Pans, the SUA's first update to their venerable Woman's Glory. 

That recipe seemed to have less milk than the other versions I had seen. It was the closest yet to a conventional American pancake in taste and texture, which might have been less appealing--except for one thing. It closely resembled the šmoren I had finally tasted on our last trip to Slovenia. 

We had wandered one day into a food festival in the Ljubljana farmers' market and discovered classic Slovenian dishes being prepared on a large scale. I was fascinated when I saw a young man preparing šmoren in the largest frying pan I had ever seen! When we bought a serving to share, my first thought was that it seemed just like a big chopped up American pancake.  

So maybe this is the authentic Slovenian way. If you would like to try it, just follow the recipe below.  

                                                                         šmoren in Ljubljana

Šmoren  (from Pots and Pans)

4 large eggs, well beaten

1 cup flour

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 cup milk

4 tablespoons hot fat (lard preferred) 

Beat eggs, gradually add the flour mixed with dry ingredients. Add milk and beat until smooth.  Heat fat or oil in ten inch skillet. Pour in entire mixture, cover, let fry until edges start to roll. Break into large pieces and turn. Keep turning into all edges are brown. 

The original recipe suggests serving with a salad or topping with pork cracklings or sour cream. I would be inclined to stick with fruit and sweet toppings like honey and jam. I would  also skip the lard and use a smaller quantity of oil or butter for frying. 

Ten Years Later: Revisiting My Year of Ethnic Cooking

In late March, I had a hankering for stuffed cabbage, the dish that launched My Year of Ethnic Cooking. I began to feel nostalgic. Why not revisit those weekly dinners, recipe by recipe? Then it hit me: There couldn't be a better time, since this is the tenth anniversary of the project I launched in January 2012.

So I dove in with a vengeance. I was enthusiastic--and behind schedule. But I had to find my special notebooks with the handwritten recipes and notes.  Eventually I did--thank goodness! 

                      

I have now completed fifteen weeks of those 2012 dinners, mostly following the same order as my original project. From stuffed cabbage in late March to oven-baked sauerkraut last night, it has been fascinating to retrace my steps, and to recall what it was like to take a deep dive into Slovenian cooking--and into my family history, which was the original purpose, of course.

I have been revisiting these recipes but not necessarily trying to replicate them exactly as written. When I do, sometimes I am reminded how tasty the dish really is. Sometimes I tweak the recipe or try a new version. Or I discover I made a mistake and correct it. 

After a 2+ month break (sorry about that!) I am finally starting to write about what I have been learning.

When there are few if any changes to report, I am adding a short note at the bottom of the original blog 2012 blog post. When a new post is merited, I will be doing that. 

Here are the old favorites I have explored so far:

stuffed cabbage

šmoren

chicken ajmoht and žganci

goulash 

caraway cheese wedges

Vipaska corba 

stuffed peppers

mushroom soup

beli kruh and cevapcici

štruklji

chicken paprikash (planned for tonight)

pasta fižol with bleki

cevapčiči

djuveč

oven-baked sauerkraut  

There is a photo for the first one, stuffed cabbage, above. I tried a new recipe that had a major flaw--too much rice! I won't be sharing that complete recipe. But I did make a few other interesting changes that are worth trying (savoy cabbage, freezing rather than boiling, tomato juice) and am adding an update. 

If you are interested in following along on this new/old food journey, keep your eye out for comments at the bottom of the 2012 posts that start like this: 

2022 10th Anniversary Update 

Dober Tek! 

 

Happy Spring! Onion Skin Eggs for Easter and Passover