Vinegary Epiphany

My Thanksgiving cactus seems to be putting all its energy into growing new segments instead of blossoms this season. Thus, here you see the single bloom brightening my window, now that the amaryllis is done for the year.

I never could keep it straight, the difference between Christmas and Thanksgiving cactus, until I did a good Google session last year. Basically, the leaf segments give you the identification. The Christmas cactus has scalloped edges. The Thanksgiving cactus has toothed edges. Paul Brunelle has a page with photos and excellent information on some of the different flowering cacti.

Finished off the venison I'd chopped up for sandwich filling but I put it into a slightly different form. Whupped up a small batch of Yorkshire pudding batter and baked it in a couple of the Corning Ware bowls. While that delicacy was blooming in the oven, I tossed the minced venison and onion mixture into a smidge of olive oil in a small frying pan on top of the stove, dredged it in a bit of flour and added enough milk to make a lovely venison gravy. When the puds came out of the oven, one was turned out onto a plate and filled with half the gravy and, shazzam! I had lunch. Later, the second one and the final portion of gravy became dinner.

So you don't have to look it up, I'll remind you this is the Yorkshire pudding by volume version. I love this way of doing it because you can make different amounts of batter without doing any rocket science cogitating. Just remember to keep the volume of the main ingredients the same. Since I only wanted a bit of batter (that has a certain lilt to it), I matched everything up with the volume of the egg. One large egg equaled 1/4 of a cup so I whisked it with 1/4 cup flour and 1/4 cup liquid (half milk and half water) and then added a pinch of salt and a capful of vinegar. And I think I had a minor epiphany as the vinegar splashed into the puddle of milk.

UK celebrity chef Brian Turner, commenting about the vinegar in the recipe, said he wasn't sure why it was there but his Granny used it so why change what works? Now, Coffee Mates, what do we use when the recipe calls for buttermilk and we only have regular milk on hand? Why, we splash in some lemon juice or vinegar and magically produce the clabbered goodness the recipe has requested. I'll betcha Brian's Granny made good buttermilk biscuits, too.

You think?

Earlier this afternoon the weather began to go from overcast to downright sloppy. Now the wind has begun to whistle about and rain is steadily splattering against the windows. Bah! This is when a good fireplace would be ever so comforting. I'll have to settle for curling up with a warm fleece blanket and a purring cat, with a mug of steaming coffee and a good book. A most excellent way to tune out the outside tempest.

WHOOPSIE ADDENDUM: Ava's comment made me realize I hadn't included baking info above. Sheesh. For the full tale of the individual Yorkies, go to the November 1, 2007 post, Another Addiction. Otherwise, this is the deal: I use the 5 1/2 inch Corning Ware baking dishes, the ones with handles. (One can use 6 inch cast iron skillets, too.) Put a teaspoon of olive oil and about the same amount of butter in the bottom of each and put in a 400 degree oven. Let heat for about 10 minutes. Pull the baking dishes out and pour in the batter. Put back in oven and cook for 25-30 minutes, or until sides are a rich brown. See photo at the link. It's important to pour the batter into hot containers, with the oil/butter sizzling. Also, it seems to help with the rise to have the batter sit at room temperature for at least an hour. Your mileage may vary. When the Yorkies are done, slide a table knife or thin spatula around the sides and gently lift them out onto serving plates, then fill with whatever you've decided to load in there. Happy munching!

Another Addiction

You remember how I was whining the other day because I didn't have any baking pans or dishes small enough for individual Yorkie puds? Remember how I mentioned ordering some 6-inch cast iron skillets just for that purpose? And I'm glad I did. Got a great deal on some refurbished Lodge Logic pre-seasoned puppies (and free shipping) so there's no way I'll complain. Still, there was a moment of epiphany this morning when I had to just stand there and thunk my forehead with the heel of my hand and say, "Fool! Back to the scullery with you, wench!"

See, I have four -- count 'em, folks, FOUR -- Corning Ware individual (5 1/2 inch) baking dishes that I've been using as soup bowls. Corning Ware goes in the oven. Corning Ware works just perfectly fine for individual servings of whatever. Sheesh!

Just to prove it to myself, I whupped up a batter in small proportions while the Corning Ware was heating in the oven, laced with a teaspoon each of olive oil and butter. One egg came to 2 ounces so I added 2 ounces of flour and 2 ounces of milk, a bit of salt and a teaspoon of rice vinegar. (I like to fiddle with different vinegars.) The batter was ready by the time the butter/oil mixture was beginning to pop and sizzle so I poured it in and popped the whole thang back in the 400 degree oven. By the way, just in case, I had the Corning Ware dish sitting in the middle of my beat up old pizza pan. I wasn't sure if the batter amount would be contained or if any of the oil would spill over. It was and it didn't so all turned out okay.

There wasn't as much rise with this Yorkie as the monster the other day and I'm wondering if the difference is not letting the batter sit for a few hours. So many of the recipes recommend this and that's what I did with the big one. Nevertheless, my little pudding came out so beautifully I almost couldn't bring myself to eat it.

If you believe that, I have a bridge I want to sell you.

While the Yorkie was ballooning away for its 15-minute baking period, I mini-diced a small potato and fried it nice and golden-crispy in some olive oil. Added seasoning and a spoonful of flour and tossed everything around until the potato bits were well-dredged. Added about a cup of milk, half a cup at a time, and kept stirring until everything was nice and thick. Threw in a handful of precooked shrimp, then stirred in about half a cup of shredded cheddar, removed the pan from the heat and put a lid on it until the Yorkie came out of the oven.

Well, good golly, Gertie. Ladled about half of my tater/shrimp mixture into the Yorkie -- which I had slid from the Corning Ware onto a dinner plate -- and sat down with a fork and sufficient gusto to obliterate the whole thing without even raising a sweat.

Excuse me. Ladies don't sweat. We glisten. But I didn't even have to do that. My only regret is that I didn't make enough batter to do a second one later, for the rest of the tater/shrimp stuff. That's okay. I've got some homemade jalapeño bread and a toasted slice of that will do quite well as a base. But that's for later. I'm still full and content from lunch. I'll tell you what -- it would not surprise me to find I've acquired a new addiction. That doesn't alarm me. One could do much worse than getting hooked on Yorkshire puddings.