Witchy Kitchen

Tag: parsley

  • Cabbage-Stuffed Hot Cross Buns

    Cabbage-Stuffed Hot Cross Buns

    The latest installment in James Wan’s The Conjuring Universe has arrived. The Nun, directed by Corin Hardy (The Hallow), starring Demián Bichir (Alien: Covenant) and Taissa Farmiga (American Horror Story, The Final Girls), is a departure from the usual haunted houses of the franchise and takes us to a Romanian monastery inhabited by a terrifying demon nun. Two nuns up, or a bunch of nunsense? You can read the Nightmare on Film Street Review here.

    No matter your feelings on the movie, the setting is beautiful. From the castle-like abbey to the creepy crypts and underground tunnels, the Romanian architecture and religious iconography create a gorgeously gothic atmosphere.

    This Nun-inspired recipe draws on both Romanian cuisine and religious symbols. The filling is a pumped-up version of a Romanian stewed cabbage dish called varza calita, flavored with garlic, white wine, tomato, herbs, and delicious smoked paprika, which sinfully makes all vegetarian food taste like ham. The buns are similar to German bierocks, but crossed like hot cross buns to evoke our wicked demon nun. The combination of bread and a filling splashed with wine makes these the body and blood of Christ rolled into one – and a recipe every bit as blasphemous as the film. Enjoy!

    Cabbage-Stuffed Hot Cross Buns

    For the dough

    • 1 cup milk
    • 2 tablespoons melted butter
    • 3 tablespoons sugar
    • 1 1/2 ounce package yeast
    • 1 egg, lightly beaten
    • 1/2 teaspoon salt
    • 3 1/2 – 4 cups flour

    Lightly warm the milk (not so hot as to kill the yeast), and in a mixing bowl, mix well with butter and sugar. Mix in the yeast and allow to sit for 10 minutes until foamy. Stir in the egg and salt, and 3 cups of the flour. When it pulls together in a shaggy ball, dump on a well-floured surface and knead for about 10 minutes, adding flour a little at a time when it becomes too sticky to handle (another ½ cup to 1 cup). You are aiming for a slightly tacky, very elastic dough. Roll into a ball and place in a greased bowl covered with a damp dishcloth to rise for about an hour.

    For the filling

    • 3 tablespoons butter
    • 1 onion, diced
    • 3 cloves garlic, grated
    • 1 tablespoon smoked paprika
    • 1/4 cup white wine
    • 1 14 ounce can diced tomatoes
    • 1/2 – 1 teaspoon salt
    • 2 bay leaves
    • 1/2 pound sauerkraut
    • 1 tablespoon finely chopped dill
    • 1 tablespoon finely chopped parsley

    Heat butter on medium heat and cook onion until deeply golden. Add garlic and paprika and stir until fragrant, and splash in the wine. Cook until dry, then add tomatoes, salt and bay leaves, and cook, stirring often, until tomatoes are completely broken down and jammy. Add sauerkraut (you don’t need to drain, but pull out with your hands so you don’t take too much of the liquid) and cook until mixture is thick and mostly dry. Remove from heat, stir in dill and parsley, and adjust seasoning if necessary. (Since this is a filling, you want it a little drier and saltier than if it were a side dish).

    For assembly

    • 1 tablespoon milk
    • 3-4 tablespoons flour

    Punch down the dough and divide into 8 equal balls. One at a time, roll out to about 6 inches in diameter and put a couple spoonfuls of the cabbage mixture in the center. Gather the dough around the mixture and pinch together well to seal, then gently roll the whole ball in your hands to shape. Place sealed side-down on a greased baking sheet and continue with remaining buns.

    Allow to rise for 30 minutes. 20 minutes into the rising time, heat the oven to 375°. Brush the balls with milk. For the crosses, whisk together flour with enough water to make a consistency thick enough to hold its shape but thin enough to be piped. Scrape into a piping bag and pipe crosses.

    Bake for 20-25 minutes until golden brown. Cool slightly and serve.

    First published on Nightmare on Film Street.

  • Linguine with Clam Sauce

    Linguine with Clam Sauce

    You are in my blood. I cant help it. We can’t be anywhere except together.

    Weetzie Bat by Francesca Lia Block is a glittery glam fairy tale, full of enchanting characters living deliciously on a sparkling sun-soaked LA backdrop. Though it views the world through neon pink colored glasses, it sensitively takes on some very real issues. I loved this and the rest of the Dangerous Angels books as a young adult, and adored revisiting it for our podcast.

    Illustration by Jill Lydon

    Weetzie, her boyfriend Secret Agent Lover Man, her best friend Dirk and his partner Duck, and babies Cherokee and Witch Baby, make a beautiful if unconventional family. Toward the end of the novel, after ups and downs and all being said and done, there is a lovely dinner scene with everyone around a table, with Weetzie feeling perfectly content with her chosen family.

    And what’s the dish? Linguine with Clam Sauce, a classic family dinner. I believe on the podcast I said old school, because it feels like in the days before carb aversion and when Italian was “exotic,” everyone’s idea of a fancy dinner was pasta. (But isn’t classic a classier way to say that?) It’s elegantly simple, exactly the type of thing My Secret Agent Lover Man would be making. It’s the type of food that makes you feel warm and safe, surrounded by the people you love, comfort food with style – because Weetzie never does anything without style.

    Linguine with Clam Sauce

    Adapted from Anne Burrell’s Linguine with White Clam Sauce

    • 1 pound clams (I used steamer, next time will probably use littleneck)
    • 1 pound linguini
    • sea salt or kosher salt
    • 3 tablespoons olive oil
    • 5 cloves garlic, sliced
    • Good pinch red chili flakes
    • 1/2 cup dry white wine
    • 2 tablespoons butter
    • handful finely chopped parsley, grated parmesan, olive oil and lemon wedges for garnish

    Clean your clams well. I have heard if you soak them in a bowl in the fridge with a couple spoonfuls of flour it will help get all the grit out – I don’t think this is true? But I tried it anyway.

    Heat a pot of well-salted water, and cook your linguine to even less than al dente (it will finish in the sauce). If you are some sort of time wizard, you can try to coordinate finishing cooking your linguini with finishing your sauce, so you can directly transfer it to the pot, but I just reserve a mugful of the starchy cooking liquid before draining the pasta. Don’t rinse, the starch will help the sauce stick to the pasta.

    Meanwhile, rinse your clams and have them ready. In a pot with a cover (or a wok, as I did), heat olive oil on medium high and add garlic. Cook for a few minutes, stirring, until garlic is golden (being careful not to burn). Add white wine and another half cup of water and bring to a boil. Throw in your clams and cover the pot or wok.

    After two minutes they should be steamed open – remove clams and reduce liquid to more than half. Reduce heat to medium and add in the butter and stir to make a silky sauce. Using tongs or forks, toss your pasta in the sauce, adding some of the reserved cooking liquid if necessary. When the linguine is thoroughly coated and cooked, transfer to a large plate, arrange the clams around the edge, and top with finely chopped parsley, grated parmesan, and drizzles of olive oil. Serve with lemon wedges.

    Recipe for Fiction Kitchen Episode 15: WEETZIE BAT in which Diana and Carrie discuss the slinkster cool world of Weetzie Bat by Francesca Lia Block, including classic LA eateries, ubiquitous avocados, “fancy” family meals, questionable burrito contents, and strawberry sundaes with marshmallow topping.

  • Codfish Pudding

    Codfish Pudding

    Just always be waiting for me.

    I reread Peter Pan by JM Barrie, a book I loved as a child, a couple of years ago; it was just as sweet and funny as I remembered, but it’s now layered by my adult experience. There’s some unfortunate misogyny (poor Wendy), and now knowing that it’s about the death of a child, much of it is just so unbearably sad.

    But from unbearable tragedy comes a charming and awfully big adventure, and I made a recipe to match. This is equal parts British nursery food for darling little children and the worst insult to effeminate one-handed pirates.

    I based my dish on this recipe from Cook it Simply with several adjustments in ingredients and cooking method (Do I look like I have suet? Or a pudding basin? But I got through it, oh the cleverness of me!). The result was like a crustless mini quiche – super tasty, and I think the lemon zest brought out the pleasant fishy flavor and brightened it several shades above stereotypically tasteless nursery fare.

    It was very good warm the night of, my kids loved it, and, because I am a monster who eats straight from the fridge, can offer that it was even good cold the next day.

    Codfish Pudding

    Adapted from Cook it Simply

    • 1 pound skinless cod, sliced into small cubes
    • 1 stick butter, melted
    • zest of one lemon
    • 1 teaspoon salt
    • fresh cracked pepper
    • 2 eggs, lightly beaten
    • 1/2 cup milk
    • 2 slices bread
    • handful parsley

    Heat oven to 350° and grease a muffin tin.

    Combine cod, butter, lemon zest, salt, pepper, eggs, and milk. In a food processor, blitz bread and parsley to fine crumbs. Stir into cod mixture.

    Divide evenly between muffin cups. Place the muffin tin on a large rimmed baking sheet in the oven, and add water to the baking sheet to about three quarters full.

    Bake for one hour (start checking at 50 minutes, it’s fine for the tops to brown but if they start getting too done cover with foil) until the mixture is fairly solid. Remove to a rack and cool 15-20 minutes.

    Gently remove each pudding, I spooned around the rim to loosen it and used two spoons to lift it to the plate. They’ll get less delicate as they cool.

    Garnish with a little extra chopped parsley and serve warm, or enjoy later room temp or even cold.

    Recipe for Fiction Kitchen Podcast Episode 45: PETER PAN, in which Carrie and Diana discuss the novel and various adaptations. Diana dreams of cakes, Carrie gets emotional, and there’s pretend feasts, medicine, panpipes and nursery food to go around.

    Lovely artwork by Renae De Liz

  • Kuku Kadoo

    Kuku Kadoo

    Under the Shadow is the story of Shideh (Narges Rashidi, brilliant) and her daughter Dorsa who become haunted by a djinn. It’s currently on Netflix, I enjoyed it a lot and suggest checking it out!

    Under the Shadow

    As a 2016 mother-child horror movie, it’s comparable to The Babadook, but whereas Amelia in the Babadook is haunted by her internal grief, the djinn that haunts the collected, ambitious, and modern Shideh seems to compound the ways she’s already being suffocated in her everyday life – ways there are no shortage of in 1980s Iran. Her dreams of becoming a doctor have been crushed, she and her neighbors live almost casually with the daily threat of missiles, and the morality police are more concerned with how she’s scandalously uncovered when she bolts outside in fear than by her and her child’s safety.

    Add to that the folkloric element of the tricky and unnerving djinn, who seems to target Shideh’s deepest insecurities. I cried hot tears as it takes the form of her husband telling her what a horrible mother she is, and almost applauded its pettiness as it destroys the only thing that seems to relieve her frustration: her beloved Jane Fonda workout video. So 80s. So culturally forbidden.

    Shideh doesn’t seem like a character that cares much about cooking, but at one point in the film, she’s seen in the kitchen chopping what looks like zucchini and potato, and then sweeps it into a pot. I took this as opportunity to try kuku kadoo, sort of an Iranian frittata which uses those ingredients. It’s a portable dish that works at all temps, so it’s good to take either to the apartment basement during an attack or as a road snack while on the run from supernatural forces.

    Kuku Kadoo

    Adapted from the defunct Lucky Peach

    • olive oil
    • 12 eggs, lightly beaten
    • 1 pound zucchini, grated and squeezed of moisture
    • 3/4 pounds potatoes, parboiled, cooled, and grated
    • 1 bunch green onions, sliced
    • 2 tablespoons yogurt
    • 2 tablespoons flour
    • 2 teaspoons baking powder
    • 2 teaspoons coarse salt
    • 1 handful parsley, chopped
    • 2 cloves garlic, grated
    • 1/2 teaspoon turmeric
    • black pepper to taste

    Heat oven to 400°. Line a baking pan with parchment and grease with olive oil.

    With a spatula, combine eggs, zucchini, potatoes, green onions, yogurt, flour, baking powder, slat, parsley, garlic, tumeric, and black pepper. Spread into the baking dish an dback for 35 minutes, until top is golden. Check that it’s cooked through by inserting a knife into the center, should come out clean.

    Cool, remove from dish and slice into squares to serve.

  • Roasted Red Pepper and Pomegranate Patatas Bravas

    Roasted Red Pepper and Pomegranate Patatas Bravas

    This month’s Food ‘n Flix movie, hosted by Katharina at Pretty Cake Machine, is both one of my favorite films of all time as well as somewhat eerily timed. Pan’s Labyrinth is a dark, dreamy fairytale layered over a bleak period of fascism. It’s heartbreaking and beautiful, an invitation to retreat into fantasy when the world becomes too cruel, but also a reminder to return to reality and fight for those weaker than us, no matter the cost.

    My dish is a version of the Spanish classic Patatas Bravas, inspired by the potatoes we see the servant Mercedes slicing multiple times in the movie (and the subsequent cleaning of Chekhov’s knife on her skirt). Instead of the traditional tomato sauce, I made a spicy red pepper sauce, as we see red peppers at one point during the film. A small shadow of the fantasy world makes it’s way into the dish with a drizzle of pomegranate molasses from the iconic Pale Man’s feast.

    Roasted Red Pepper and Pomegranate Patatas Bravas

    For the potatoes

    • 1.5 pounds potatoes (I used red), peeled and cut into 1 inch cubes
    • olive oil and sea salt for roasting

    Heat oven to 400° and place potatoes in a single layer on a baking sheet. Toss with olive oil and sea salt and bake for 25-30 minutes, turning every 10, until potatoes are golden and easily pierced with a fork. You can turn off the oven and leave them inside to warm while you finish the sauce. When ready, move to a dish.

    For the spicy red pepper sauce

    • 3 tablespoons olive oil
    • 1 onion, diced
    • 3 cloves garlic, chopped
    • 1 teaspoon salt
    • 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
    • 1 teaspoon ground coriander
    • 1/2 – 1 teaspoon cayenne
    • 1/4 cup slivered or sliced almonds
    • 1/4 cup white wine
    • 1/4 cup water
    • 2 red peppers, roasted (broil, turning, until blackened, cover in a bowl to steam, then peel and deseed)

    Meanwhile, heat olive oil on medium high and saute onion until translucent. Add chopped garlic and saute for a minute or so. Add salt, paprika, ground coriander, cayenne, and almonds, and cook, stirring, until spices are fragrant and almonds are slightly toasted. Add white wine and cook until liquid evaporates. Remove from heat and puree with the water and the red peppers. Return to heat and gently heat through.

    Pour over warm potatoes.

    For the garnish

    • pomegranate molasses (storebought, or made by reducing pomegranate juice to about 1/3 of the beginning volume)
    • mayonnaise
    • chopped parsley

    Drizzle pomegranate molasses and mayonnaise over potatoes, sprinkle with chopped parsley. Serve hot.

    Previous Pan’s Labyrinth-inspired dish: Sugared Grapes

    Also, you can hear me and my cohost Diana discuss Pan’s Labyrinth at length on our podcast, Fiction Kitchen.