Huck & Young

Stormy Weather? Try This Recipe For Indoor S'mores!

Into every life a little rain must fall, that is a concrete fact of existence. But should a passing shower douse the campfire before the s'mores have been toasted? Well, that thought is just too much to bear.

To stave off such an unspeakable tragedy, we've created Indoor S'mores. They're a gooey, honey-sweet homemade marshmallow-y treat with a hint of chocolate and a buttery graham cracker crunch. Everything a proper s'more should be, no flame necessary.

This summertime delight can be prepared in any home kitchen, perfect for soggy backyard campers who come rushing in from a downpour. We also find Indoor S'mores to be a welcome consolation prize for anyone who finds one's self jonseing for the great outdoors' greatest dessert, but can't seem to steal a weekend off of work for a even the quickest campfire getaway.

Not that we know any poor soul such as this. But if we did, we'd surely show up at their tiny Brooklyn apartment (hypothetically speaking, of course) with a whole tray of Indoor S'mores. And also a  bunch of really good ghost stories, and maybe a flashlight or two, to add some verisimilitude to the whole operation. Just an idea. 

 

Indoor S’mores

Makes about 42 squares

 

For the Graham Cracker Base and Crumb Topping:

2 1/2 cups (6 sticks) unsalted butter

1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons firmly packed dark brown sugar

1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons cup granulated sugar

1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons light-bodied honey, such as clover or wildflower

3 3/4 cups graham or whole-wheat flour

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

2 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt

3/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon

6 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped

 

For the Marshmallow Middle:

3 envelopes unflavored gelatin (about 3 tablespoons)

2 cups sugar

1/4 cup light-bodied honey such as orange blossom or clover

1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

2 large egg whites

1 tablespoon vanilla extract

 

1. First, make the graham cracker base and crumb toppling. In the bowl of an electric mixer cream the butter, sugars, and honey until smooth. In a medium bowl combine the flours, salt, and cinnamon. Add the dry ingredients to the mixer and beat until the dough just comes together.

2. Divide the dough into 2 pieces, 1 piece roughly twice the size of the other. Wrap the dough pieces in plastic and pat into rectangles. Chill the dough in the refrigerator for at least 1 hour and up to 2 days before rolling out.

3. Preheat the oven to 325°F. Lightly grease 2 rimmed baking sheets or line with parchment.

4. Place the larger piece of dough into 1 of the prepared baking sheets and roll or press the dough to fit the entire sheet. Turn the remaining piece of dough out onto a lightly floured surface, and roll into a rectangle about 1/8-inch-thick. Carefully transfer the dough to the remaining prepared baking sheet. Bake until the graham crackers are golden brown, 15 to 18 minutes and transfer the baking sheet with the smaller piece of cracker to a wire rack to cool completely.

5. Take the baking sheet with the larger graham cracker out of the oven. Scatter the chocolate pieces all over the graham cracker base and return it to the oven until the chocolate melts enough to spread, about 1 minute. Use a spatula or butter knife to spread the melted chocolate all over the graham cracker base and transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.

6. While the graham crackers are cooling, make the marshmallow middle. Place the gelatin in 1 cup of cold water to bloom. Place a candy thermometer in a saucepan over medium heat, cook the sugar, honey, and 1/2 cup water, stirring until the sugar dissolves, and the mixture reaches 240°F.

7. As the sugar mixture begins to bubble, use an electric mixer to whisk the egg whites until soft peaks form. When the sugar mixture has come up to temperature, carefully pour it into the egg whites while whisking. Continue whisking until the mixture has cooled slightly, about 1 minute, then add the gelatin and water mixture and the vanilla. Continue whisking until the mixture begins to thicken and quadruples in volume, 5 to 7 minutes.

8. Scrape the marshmallow onto the chocolate-topped graham cracker base and smooth the surface with a spatula. Take the smaller piece of graham cracker and crumble it, sprinkling the crumbs all over the top of the marshmallow. As the marshmallow sets, the crumbs will stick to it. Allow the s’mores to set for 4 hours or overnight at room temperature. Cut the s’mores into squares before serving. Or, wrap well in plastic and store in the refrigerator or at room temperature. The s’mores will keep for about 2 days at room temperature, up to 4 days if chilled. 

 

Terrain Lights Up Our Life

Terrain

Last week, we had our first honest-to-goodness book event. And boy, did we feel spoiled. Not only did we discover that Amtrak has loads more legroom than the Long Island Rail Road (so that's why you're so expensive, Amtrak!), we got to spend our entire day in a magical place called Terrain. If you love gardening, food, beautiful things, and ridiculously nice people, then you absolutely must hasten to this sprawling Philadelphia haven. Seriously, it's worth planning  a vacation around. After a couple of happy hours spent dishing about campfires, signing books, and passing out well-received samples of our Indoor S'mores (recipe coming soon!), we changed our train ticket so we could squeeze in some shopping. We brought home all kinds of booty, but above are a few of our favorite high-stylin', camp-worthy items we ferried back to Brooklyn. Tell us these wouldn't make a perfect gift, perhaps with a copy of our book? Included:

1. A nifty firestarter kit with everything needed to set a blaze in a hurry (tucked into a cool glass beaker that we will eventually repurpose as a spice jar).

2. A dogwood-scented soy and beeswax candle, for those stuck-at-home days when you want life to smell of rugged adventure. Quick fact: rugged pioneers used to brush their teeth with wild dogwood branches.

3. Farmaesthetics Tansynella Bug Screene, a natural insect repellant with a fragrance redolent of eucalyptus. We can't wait to dab a little behind our ears on our next hike.

4. A pretty, rustic-looking box of matches, because why not light a fire with flair? Also, the longer length buys you an extra moment before that match fizzles out and scorches your fingertips.

We had such a great time at Terrain that we're already planning our next event there, an evening of camping-inspired food and drink at their cafe in October. Think fireside mugs of steaming, spiked cider and bowls of hearty stew. Stay tuned!

 

Favorite Brunch Recipe: Toad-In-The-Hole

Whilst doing a spot of gardening, we came upon this little fellow pictured above. Who knew toads actually resided in holes? Next we’ll be seeing Mr. Toad whizzing by in a Model T, having a wild old ride with his freewheeling amphibian companion. 

When we think of Toad-In-The-Hole, we think of one of our favorite brunchtime recipes. We do a truffled version in our book Campfire Cookers: Adventuresome Recipes and Other Curiosities for the Great Outdoors (out June 1 from Stewart, Tabori, & Chang) over the open fire, but this dish is a snap to replicate in one’s home oven. But of course, it makes a brilliant treat for patio dining!

Toad-In-The-Hole

Provides four to six portions

 

2 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus additional for coating

1 pound good-quality pork sausage, cut in half crosswise

3 large eggs

1 cup whole milk

3/4 cup all-purpose flour

1 generous pinch kosher salt

4 sprigs fresh thyme

1. Preheat the oven to 425° F. Coat the interior of a 2-quart soufflé pan or baking dish with the additional oil, taking care that the sides are not neglected. Place the pan in the oven to warm.

2. In a skillet set over medium-high heat, warm 2 teaspoons of the oil. Add the sausages and brown well on all sides, 7 to 10 minutes. Meanwhile, in a medium bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk, flour, and salt until few lumps remain.

3. When the sausages are ready, carefully remove the warm pan from the oven. Scrape the sausages and their meaty juices into the pan and scatter the thyme sprigs on top. Pour the batter over the sausage-thyme mixture and return the pan to the oven. Bake until the pudding has puffed and the edges are a crisp, golden brown, 20 to 25 minutes. Serve hot, in or out-of-doors!

 

Drinky Poos: The Strawberry-Rhubarb 75

 

 

If our purses bulged a bit more, we would pluck out some pennies each spring for a splash over to Paris.  For although we love the blooming of the Great Outdoors this time of year, it is also a sublime moment to visit The City of Lights, the hour at which roughly 2,000,000 sybarites emerge from hibernation in search of open-air debauchery. One could hardly be blamed for a fleeting willingness to swap the drift of woodsmoke for the haze of Gauloise fumes floating defiantly across Paris' terrasse-lined, champagne-soaked boulevards.

But with a decidedly deflated purse and the thrum of accordians a long way off (3628 miles, or 5838 kilometers, to be precise), we determined last weekend to take matters into our own hands--"matters" being an immediate need to approximate French cafe revelry without digging up the ole' passport. A friend's birthday (see her excellent blog here) provided the perfect excuse, and a battered Savoy cocktail manual supplied the inspiration: the French 75, a concoction so powerful in its ability to inebriate that it is named for the French 75mm howitzer, a 19th-century field cannon that could deliver dozens of rounds per minute.

We aren't sure of the exact correlation between artillery rounds and alcoholic strength, but we can say that it only takes a single round of this champagne cocktail to send one spinning. To give the drink an "ode to spring" spirit, we subsituted the usual sugar for a rosy-hued rhubarb syrup, and garnished with some finely chopped, sweet-as-can-be local strawberries. Pretty, festive, and potent, it is just the thing for a patriotic weekend of fireside celebrations, backyard barbecues, and park floor picnics (European military roots notwithstanding).

THE STRAWBERRY-RHUBARB 75

Makes 2 cups syrup, or enough for one dozen moderately sweetened cocktails; scale cocktails measurements accordingly

 

Rhubarb Syrup:

3/4 pound rhubarb, trimmed and cut into 1-inch pices

1 1/4 cups sugar

2 cups water

 

The Actual Cocktail (per serving):

2 ounces gin

1  to 2 ounces rhubarb syrup, to taste

1 ounce freshly squeezed lemon juice

1/2 ounce Grand Marnier (optional)

5 ounces champagne or prosecco

Finely diced fresh strawberries, for garnish

 

1. In a large saucepan, combine the rhubarb, sugar, and water. Bring to a simmer and cook until the rhubarb is falling apart, about 20 minutes. Strain mixture through a fine-mesh sieve into a bowl, pressing on the rhubarb solids to extract maximum flavor. Discard solids and cool syrup completely. Transfer to a smart-looking carafe (or store in an airtight container).

2. In a cocktail shaker filled with ice, combine the gin, rhubarb syrup, lemon juice, and Grand Marnier, if using. Shake and strain into a highball glass. Top off with champagne or prosecco; garnish with a smattering of strawberries. Continue firing off cocktails in quick succession until ones's battalion of guests beg for mercy (or the syrup runs out).

 

 

 

 

 

Adventures: Porch Camping

 

May is the month we usually circle with a fat red crayon in our appointment diaries. It is The Turning Point, the month where buttery sunshine, freshly lacquered toenails, and placid cross-breezes in otherwise stuffy apartments lure one away from indoor obligations in favor of outdoor frolicking.  It is a just reward for slogging through the harsh wallop of winter and insulting slush of early spring.

May is meant to be camping season.

Assuming that the sky simply could not--wouldn't dare--unleash one more torrent, we determined last weekend would be the season's inaugural firepit lighting. Dismissing dismal weather reports, we cockily hatched plans for Dutch oven stews and improved-upon baked beans and spring-worthy champagne cocktails. We even hoped to squeeze in a rousing round of badminton. So much optimism--and all of it dashed against the cold, entirely unmoved, slate-gray sky. But as the rain continued unabated, so did the beckoning of the outdoors. Finally, we pulled on galoshes, piled a platter high with spring edibles, and set up a campsite beneath the (somewhat leaky) overhang of our front porch. From this vantage point, we had a lovely vista of Brooklyn's alternate-sides parking, the untrammeled expanse of a newly laid speed bump, and the neighborhood's stray cat wrestling with a squirrel.

But the cool, damp air refreshed and the food more than satisfied. We were in the mood for a ploughman's platter kind of meal, but lighter: whole smoked trout (procured at the farmer's market, but tasting of campfire nonetheless); a lemony, hazelnut-studded salad of spring vegetables that requires no blaze, just one's trusty vegetable peeler; crumbled aged cheddar; crusty bread; and the first strawberries of the season. Naturally, we included a frequently topped-off carafe of rose wine.

In the event that you, too, are flushed with a cabin fever that ought to be spring fever, we present this delicate, no-cook salad of shaved asparagus, carrots and parsnips. It is perfect for drizzly May dining, comes together awfully quickly, and will probably have you gazing longingly at your macintosh in a week or two. Just be sure to dig up the smallest and crispest vegetables you can find, as those will be the sweetest and most tender.

A mound of leftover carrots and parsnips also provides an opportunity to practice one's whittling skills.

 

SHAVED SPRING VEGETABLE SALAD WITH TOASTED HAZELNUTS

Serves 4

1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice

1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

1/4 pound small, crisp parsnips, trimmed and peeled

1/4 pound small, crisp carrots, trimmed and peeled

1/4 pound medium, crisp asparagus, ends trimmed

1/4 cup toasted, coarsely chopped hazelnuts

2 tablespoons chopped fresh chives

Crumbled cheese, such as aged cheddar or feta

Freshly ground black pepper, to taste

 

1. In a small bowl, whisk together the lemon juice and salt. Whisk in the oil.

2. Using a vegetable peeler, peel the vegetables, head to toe, into long pretty ribbons. Continue ribboning until the vegetable is just a stub of its former self. Transfer them to a bowl, then toss with the vinaigrette, hazelnuts, and chives.

3. Arrange salad on a rustic-looking platter that wouldn't be out of place in wild environs. Garnish with cheese and black pepper and serve.

 

Window-Seat Bird Watching: Our Top Tips

Who amongst us does not look out the window on a rainy spring day and ask, “Is the world made up of no other colors than muddy brown and varying shades of green?”

And the world might answer, “Well, it so happens I have all manner of flowering trees and shrubs and, er, flowers it’s just that they’re a little soggy right at the moment.”

But it doesn’t matter what the world might say because none of us can understand it. Honestly, the world needs to enunciate.

And so we all go back to glowering out the window at a view that may appeal to connoissuers of authentically dressed toy soldiers but certainly does not appeal to us. No. After our lengthy winter lethargy we want to gaze at riot of color: India ink blues, brazen crimsons, lurid oranges, and a splash of jet black to add drama. Colors not necessarily considered natural hues, yet one may find them, even on a grey spring day, fluttering just on the other side of the glass.

Because, rain or shine, the month of May is when migrating songbirds return to North America.

Though one needn’t go out of one’s way to witness these joyful, color-drenched little show-offs (all a viewing requires is an appropriately placed window and an abundance of time ear-marked for sitting still and looking), there are a number of “tips” which we have successfully employed to spot glorious golden finches, Baltimore orioles, indigo buntings, cardinals, and rose-breasted grosbeaks. And we are pleased to share them, below.

First: Entice feathered beauties with a luxurious meal. Like Hansel and Gretel nibbling on a gingerbread house, songbirds will stop and stay a while if they are given their very most favorite food. And it’s not baked goods, it’s not even that temptingly named “Mixed Birdseed” one may buy in bulk at the hardware store. Songbirds love thistle seed, they are absolute gluttons for it. Thistle seed can be procured from most gardening emporiums, it costs a bit more than standard seed but is worth the ever so minor splurge.

Second: Orange birds are partial to oranges. Baltimore orioles and the even more reclusive scarlet tanagers (don’t let the monikers mislead, both birds are as orange as Florida’s fresh-squeezed) will happily bury their beaks into the cut-side of half a citrus fruit. Artfully wedge or hang the orange in the branches of a leafy tree to attract the like-colored twitterers.

Third: Pretty birds are skittish little things so keep one’s personal movement to a minimum. Stay still, loud plumage is best appreciated in quiet repose. This does present a bit of a bother when attempting to photograph these delightful flyers. We recommend using window seat bird watching as an opportunity to exercise one’s ability to take mental pictures.

Fourth: Keep the cat indoors.

 

Pickle Me: The Ravishing Green Radish

 

We originally thought to sidle into spring with a nothing-says-seasonal-like-this recipe for pickled ramps. Last year's batch, pickled last May, provided contented cocktail munching all winter long, but the jar finally dwindled down to one sad little pickle just last month. The only cure for our despair was the realization that in just a few short weeks we could begin the cycle anew.

But "mann tracht und gott lacht" as we like to say, and we arrived at the farmer's market on Saturday bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and completely unprepared to find that ramps had already come and gone, both for the day, and, the farmer told us apologetically, probably for the season.

With the full swing of East Coast spring still a week or two away and a pretty serious hankering for something pickled, we eyed our options--potatoes? Out of the question. Apples? Hardly. Asparagus? Perhaps, but why bother? And then we spied this:

And we had a pretty good feeling about. Green radishes!?!?! From what we could deduce in our swift research, these fat, parsnip-looking behemoths (10 inches, oh my!) are de rigeur in Chinese culinary circles, prized for their sweet, mild flavor. We scooped them up, hustled them home, and were stunned to slice into this:

So spring-like and lovely, no? And though we wasted no time in slicing up these verdant roots for delicious, vaguely Chinese pickling (ahem, note rice wine vinegar and gingerroot in the recipe below), they are so gently flavored that they wouldn't be amiss shredded in something more Southeast Asian-y, like a green papaya-inspired slaw, which is what we will be doing with next weekend's market booty. Unless, of course, those ramps turn up after all.  

 

PICKLED GREEN RADISHES

Provides about 1 tightly packed pint

1 1/2 pounds green radishes or other radishes of one's choosing, trimmed and peeled

1 1/2 tablespoons kosher salt

2 inches gingerroot, peeled and sliced into paper-thin rounds

1 1/2 teaspoons coriander seed

4 garlic cloves, peeled and smashed

1/8 teaspoon red pepper flakes, or more for those of fiery constitution

1/3 cup rice wine vinegar

2 tablespoons sugar

Slice the radishes lengthwise into quarters; slice each quarter crosswise 1/4-inch thick. Place them in a large bowl and toss with 1 tablespoon salt. Let radishes stand one hour at room temperature, then tip any excess water out of the bowl (do not rinse the radishes). Add the ginger, coriander, garlic, and pepper flakes.

Pour the vinegar into a small bowl and whisk in 1/2 tablespoon salt and the sugar until both have dissolved. Pour the liquid over the radish mixture; toss gently to combine. Pack the whole thing into a pretty jar, cover tightly, and transfer to one's icebox to pickle for as long as one can stand (we find the flavor begins to shine after four hours and it dazzles after twelve). If one is able to resist eating them all in one go, they will last, chilled, in an airtight container for two to three weeks.