I love Brazil nuts. Before moving to New England I would buy them pre-shelled in the bulk section of a nearby Wegmans über grocery store (go Wegmans!). The stores in my new little town don't carry them.
But now, thanks to THIS recipe, I can stock up while the nuts are plentiful at Christmas time, and shell them in a big batch!
Can you say WOOT?!?
And while I'm nattering on about nuts, I've got a complaint to make.
When I Google Brazil nut recipes, it comes up with a measly 271,000 results. Contrast that with pecan recipes which get 13,800,000. Walnut recipes come in at 14,400,000.
Why, oh why?
Yes, they are a bit hard to shell. But I'm sure it's more an issue of cost and availability. Brazil nuts are grown in rain forests, of which the U.S. has few. They also apparently require special bee-attracting orchids for pollination.
Sigh...
Guess it's time to build a bio-dome in the back yard. Can't put it off forever.
And while I'm waiting for it to be finished, and for the trees to reach maturity, and for the orchids to thrive, I'll read this little booklet and plan what to make from the fruits of all this labor:
I can't believe I missed St. Lucia Day! It was December 13, but in my view it's never too late to celebrate a cool saint, and to bake something delicious.
First, a tribute to Lucy from the King.
Next, a bit about the saint. She was born into a wealthy family in about 283 and consecrated her virginity to God. She was killed during the Diocletion persecution, after refusing to wed her pagan betrothed. Prior to her death, Lucia either plucked her own eyes out as a gift to her fiance in hope of being allowed to live and worship her God in peace, or had them torn out with a fork by guards.
Because of this, she is the patron saint of the blind, and is frequently depicted carrying her eyes in a platter or vessel. Check it out:
Wow.
She is honored in many places, including Sweden and Sicily.
There are a variety of recipes associated with St. Lucy, including cookies formed by special eye shaped presses, and a wheat-berry pudding (la cuccìa) that has been eaten traditionally ever since she provided assistance during a famine by sending a ship full of wheat into a starving port town.
You can Google those if you'd like to do a complete St. Lucia's Day feast, or if you'd like to try something a bit better suited to American tastes, here's a recipe for :
INGREDIENTS
1/2 cup warm water
1 package active dry yeast
1/2 cup warm milk
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 cup butter or margarine, softened
1 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon saffron powder
4 1/4 to 4 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
3 eggs
powdered sugar frosting, optional (recipe follows)
red and green candied cherry halves, optional
6 candles, optional
Place 1/4 cup warm water in large warm bowl. Sprinkle in yeast; stir until dissolved. Add remaining water, warm milk, sugar, butter, salt, saffron, and 1 1/2 cups flour; blend well. Stir in 2 eggs and enough remaining flour to make soft dough. Knead on lightly floured surface until smooth and elastic, about 6--8 minutes. Place in greased bowl, turning to grease top. Cover; let rise in warm, draft-free place until doubled in size, about 1 hour.
Punch dough down. Remove dough to lightly floured surface; reserve 1/3 of dough for top of crown. Divide remaining dough into 3 equal pieces; roll each to 25-inch rope. Braid ropes. Place braid on greased baking sheet. Form braid into circle; pinch ends together to seal. To shape top of crown, divide reserved dough into 3 equal pieces; roll each to 16-inch rope. Braid ropes. Place braid on separate greased baking sheet. Form braid into circle; pinch ends together to seal. Cover braids; let rise in warm, draft-free place until doubled in size, about 1 hour.
Lightly beat remaining egg; brush on braids. Bake at 375 F for 15 minutes or until done (small braid) and 25 minutes or until done (large braid), covering large braid with foil during last 10 minutes to prevent excess browning. Remove braids from baking sheets; let cool on wire racks.
To decorate, make 6 holes for candles in small braid. Place small braid on top of large braid. If desired, drizzle with powdered sugar frosting and garnish with candied cherry halves. Insert candles in prepared holes.
Powdered Sugar Frosting:
In small bowl, combine 1 cup powdered sugar, sifted; 4 to 5 teaspoons milk; and 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract. Stir until smooth.
(You can tell this is a recipe from the fifties; just look at the candied fruit!)
I'm not a big fan of cooking with egg nog. I like to drink it, in moderation of course; even without rum, it is rich stuff. I once used it for french toast because there was till some in the house after the Yule Tide went back out. It worked, though the result tasted strongly, and not surprisingly, like chewy egg nog.
(Speaking of which, the egg nog purchased in cartons from the grocery store lasts a disturbingly long time. Not sure what they put in there to inhibit bacterial and fungal growth, but it works.)
As I typed the title of this post, I wondered: are there other kinds of nog? In case questions like this trouble you too, here's what I discovered: nog can be a strong ale brewed in Norfolk, England, a psychedelic novel, and a Firengi character from Star Trek.
The food timeline says that the term "egg nog" wasn't used until the 1700s, but that the stuff itself was around well before hand. The term for it back in the 1600s was "Egg Caudle" or "Sack Posset", which I think explains the name change.
Here's a 1685 version you may not have tried:
Egg Caudle
Boil ale or beer, scum it, and put to it two or three blades of large mace, some sliced manchet and sugar; then dissolve four or five yolks of eggs with some sack, claret or white-wine, and put into the rest with a little grated nutmeg; fire to a warm and serve it.
Don't forget to scum it. That really is the most important step.
The first recipe in this month's holiday extravaganza led me on a quest.
Not being much of a candy maker (I'm afraid of boiling sugar), I can't quite tell what the texture of the candies is like, but their snowy whiteness makes a great backdrop for the neon-colored candied fruit of the era.
We always had little plastic tubs of the stuff in my childhood kitchen. I never liked it, but it was a holiday staple, as you will see from recipes to come throughout the month.
I imagine this candy to be very sweet, slightly chewy, and studded with the weirdly textured candied fruit flavors of the past. But they aren't what I ever imagined sugar plums to be.
And so I set out to find out what a sugar plum is. Turns out this is not a straight forward question.
Here are a few examples of the most common version found on the interwebs today:
Look! She's wearing candied cherries! Surely she will know.