Panno Cotta means 'cooked cream' in Italian. But it's so much more than that....creamy, rich, decadent. And so easy to make. Well, not as easy as it used to be actually. It's one of those dishes that as food safety got better, it got harder to make.
Panna Cotta was originally made with cream fresh from someone's cow. It's difficult to find fresh, unpasteurized cream any more due to (cough-cough) health concerns.
If you don't have access to a cow or it's cream, I've included the modernized recipe to make it easier. Even though you have to do a few extra steps to make it's creamy goodness, it's still easy and worth every minute.
Start by preparing your 3 serving dishes. Panna Cotta can be served in just about any sort of a bowl that you like, I used martini glasses just to show off the layers. (Seriously. I wouldn't serve them to my family like this. I have big dogs and dinner time can be precarious. I once dropped a coconut cream pie to the floor. There is no 5 second rule in this house. All 4 dogs were on it in a heartbeat scarfing and growling and slobbering. For weeks after they skulked about the table, hoping another pie would miraculously appear on the floor. Alas. It hasn't. However, say the dogs, eternal vigilance is the price of a pie.)
Ingredients
1 3/4 cups heavy cream
2 tablesppons sugar
3 tablespoons Elderflower cordial
1/2 cup fresh or frozen berries
1 to 2 envelopes powdered gelatin
Place a 1/4 cup cream in a bowl and sprinkle with 1 and a half teaspoons of powdered gelatin. Let gelatin soften for 5 or 10 minutes.
Place the other 1.5 cups of cream in a saucepan. Whisk in 2 tablespoons of sugar and 3 tablespoons of elderflower cordial. Place on stove and bring to a simmer. Continue to whisk while adding gelatin mixture. When the cream begins to simmer again, remove from heat and divide evenly into your serving bowls, martini glasses, whatever.
Place in the refrigerator to let it firm up, while preparing the second layer.
Measure 1/4 cup of water into a bowl and sprinkle 1 teaspoon of gelatin over it. (You can 'fudge on the amount of gelatin that you use here. I like it a little softer, so I use less gelatin. You may like it a little harder. It's totally up to you.) Let the gelatin soften for 5 or 10 minutes. Place 3/4 cup of water in a saucepan, add 2 tablespoons of sugar and a 1/2 cup berries. Add the gelatin mixture, stirring constantly and let the mixture come to a simmer. Remove from heat. Pour the berry mix into a heatproof liquid measuring cup and let it sit until it comes to room temperature. This step important, because if the mixture is too hot, it will melt the layer of panna cotta underneath and you'll end up with a muddy mess.
When the berry mixture is cooled to room temperature, carefully pour in equal amounts over the panna cotta layers. Then refrigerate for an hour for gelatin to set.
Showing posts with label blackberry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blackberry. Show all posts
Saturday, May 4, 2013
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Wild Tea
I have a problem with some herbal teas.
They just don't have much flavor. I have to mix them with other more flavorful teas to really enjoy them.
See, the art of having a cup of tea is therapy in itself. It's calming. It's relaxing. It lets you stop for a moment and think. Often it is at these relaxed times that great ideas wander into my brain, exactly when I am not thinking about them.
But it's hard to have a good 'cuppa' when the tea has little color and even less flavor. What's the point?
I have never satisfactorily solved this problem, until now.
Years ago, I was reading Euell Gibbons and he mentioned accidently fermenting a pitcher of mint tea. It was that fermentation process that changed the tea from a barely noticeable mint flavor to a 'wowie-zowie' flavor. I tried it a couple of times, but have never been able to actually drink the result. I just couldn't get over the idea of drinking water that leaves were rotting in.
Move ahead to a few months ago, when reading Henriette K. new book and she mentions that she ferments the leaves only.
Hmmmmm.
Real tea is made from the leaves of Camelia sinensis plant. Green tea is unfermented leaves, Oolong tea is made from leaves that have been fermented a short time and black tea are leaves that are fully fermented.
I tried Henriette's method which involves bruising the leaves, placing them in a jar with the lid loosely attached and held at 118 degrees for 24 hours on top of the dehydrator. I used blackberry leaves.
Henriette's recipe gives a tea with more color than plain unfermented leaves, but the flavor was still bland. I just wasn't satisfied. I wanted a dark, rich cup of tea.
I used my handy-dandy pasta machine (that I got for a buck at a garage sale), cut the blackberry leaves into long, thin strands with the 'cutting' side, then put the leaves through the 'roller' side (twice) to bruise them. I filled a mason jar about half full (leave room for shaking), screwed the cap on tight and put them in my dehydrator. (OK, confession time. My 'dehydrator' is a broken down 1985 Jeep Cherokee that's been sitting in the front yard for years. I outfitted it with solar fans for air movement. OK. Now my red-necked secret is out.) I put the jar under a seat, out of direct sun. I shook the jar twice each day to redistribute the moisture from the juices. I didn't want the moisture to pool up on the glass and mold. After three days, I removed the leaves and dried them as usual.
And here's the final results. The top cup of tea is simply dried blackberry tea. The second brew is more like an oolong tea, of medium body and color. This tea was fermented 24 hours. The bottom cup is a full 3-day ferment, and loaded with a beautiful color and flavor.
Alas, the technique doesn't work for all teas. It didn't seem to make a difference with sage or Tulsi basil. But pretty much anything in the rose and mint families will have make a delightful, delicious cup of tea. Actually, people that normally don't like herbal teas are comfortable with this one because it has the appearance and taste of traditional teas.
My next step will be to try smoking (in a smoker, like a ham, not like a cigarette), because I've had smoked teas made from C. sinensis, and they are wonderful. And there is another type of tea called Pu'er that undergoes a double fermentation process. Might have to give that one a go, as well. (In my spare time of course. I think I can use those 10 minutes that I normally reserve for brushing my teeth...)
They just don't have much flavor. I have to mix them with other more flavorful teas to really enjoy them.
See, the art of having a cup of tea is therapy in itself. It's calming. It's relaxing. It lets you stop for a moment and think. Often it is at these relaxed times that great ideas wander into my brain, exactly when I am not thinking about them.
But it's hard to have a good 'cuppa' when the tea has little color and even less flavor. What's the point?
I have never satisfactorily solved this problem, until now.
Years ago, I was reading Euell Gibbons and he mentioned accidently fermenting a pitcher of mint tea. It was that fermentation process that changed the tea from a barely noticeable mint flavor to a 'wowie-zowie' flavor. I tried it a couple of times, but have never been able to actually drink the result. I just couldn't get over the idea of drinking water that leaves were rotting in.
Move ahead to a few months ago, when reading Henriette K. new book and she mentions that she ferments the leaves only.
Hmmmmm.
Real tea is made from the leaves of Camelia sinensis plant. Green tea is unfermented leaves, Oolong tea is made from leaves that have been fermented a short time and black tea are leaves that are fully fermented.
I tried Henriette's method which involves bruising the leaves, placing them in a jar with the lid loosely attached and held at 118 degrees for 24 hours on top of the dehydrator. I used blackberry leaves.
Henriette's recipe gives a tea with more color than plain unfermented leaves, but the flavor was still bland. I just wasn't satisfied. I wanted a dark, rich cup of tea.
I used my handy-dandy pasta machine (that I got for a buck at a garage sale), cut the blackberry leaves into long, thin strands with the 'cutting' side, then put the leaves through the 'roller' side (twice) to bruise them. I filled a mason jar about half full (leave room for shaking), screwed the cap on tight and put them in my dehydrator. (OK, confession time. My 'dehydrator' is a broken down 1985 Jeep Cherokee that's been sitting in the front yard for years. I outfitted it with solar fans for air movement. OK. Now my red-necked secret is out.) I put the jar under a seat, out of direct sun. I shook the jar twice each day to redistribute the moisture from the juices. I didn't want the moisture to pool up on the glass and mold. After three days, I removed the leaves and dried them as usual.
And here's the final results. The top cup of tea is simply dried blackberry tea. The second brew is more like an oolong tea, of medium body and color. This tea was fermented 24 hours. The bottom cup is a full 3-day ferment, and loaded with a beautiful color and flavor.
Alas, the technique doesn't work for all teas. It didn't seem to make a difference with sage or Tulsi basil. But pretty much anything in the rose and mint families will have make a delightful, delicious cup of tea. Actually, people that normally don't like herbal teas are comfortable with this one because it has the appearance and taste of traditional teas.
My next step will be to try smoking (in a smoker, like a ham, not like a cigarette), because I've had smoked teas made from C. sinensis, and they are wonderful. And there is another type of tea called Pu'er that undergoes a double fermentation process. Might have to give that one a go, as well. (In my spare time of course. I think I can use those 10 minutes that I normally reserve for brushing my teeth...)
Labels:
black tea,
blackberry,
fermentation,
foraging,
green tea,
oolong,
recipe,
tea,
wild
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