Baking with Beer: Not Your Mother's Gingerbread

It's he-ere (imagine this said in a scary, Halloween-y voice).

David and I woke up yesterday morning to find that it had snowed.  It was less than an inch, and it promptly became ice on the streets, but I was happy to see it.  This apparently is not a normal reaction to snow, but I was happy.

Maybe it's because the gray and brown that had taken over for the past few weeks were now clean and white.  Maybe it's because it's now time for the holidays.  Maybe it's because I didn't have anywhere to be until 6 p.m. last night.  Who knows?  All I can say is that I got a little giddy.

My brother-in-law Philip, who lives in Brooklyn, couldn't believe that it snowed in Manhattan before Anchorage.  Here is a totally random photo from our front window yesterday morning, which was initially as close to the snow as David wanted to venture:

I hope it doesn't keep what is usually a flood of trick-or-treaters from our door tonight--I may have overstocked on candy a little.  Oops.  Whoever comes will be greeted by our not-very-well-crafted pumpkin that we carved this weekend at our friends' annual pumpkin-carving party.

 I can't believe October is over today.  Not only does this remind me that my play opens in 26 days (eek!), but it brings an end to the Oktoberfest cooking with beer festivities.  For the last installment, I wanted to try using beer in a dessert.  

This dessert is adapted from a fun cookbook called All Cakes Considered, and is written by a National Public Radio staffer who began taking cakes to work and eventually was dubbed "the cake lady."  There are worse nicknames.

This is some seriously zingy gingerbread.  I can't taste the beer, although it might be contributing to the malty quality of the cake.  It's the perfect dessert for sliding (or, as I said the other day, slouching) into winter.


I may not be good at carving pumpkins, but at least I buy good candy.



Not-Your-Mother's Gingerbread

Adapted from All Cakes Considered by Melissa Gray

For the gingerbread:

1/2 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature

2 tbsp. dark brown sugar

1 large egg, at room temperature

1 cup dark molasses

1 cup dark beer

2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour

1 tsp. baking soda

1 tsp. ground cloves

1 tsp. ground cinnamon

1/2 tsp. ground nutmeg

Small pinch of kosher salt

1/2 crystallized ginger, roughly chopped

For the frosting:

3 ounces reduced-fat cream cheese (Neufchatel)

1/2 unsalted butter, at room temperature

1 tsp. vanilla extract

2 cups powdered sugar

1/2 tsp. ground ginger

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and center a rack in the middle.  Using either butter or nonstick baking spray, coat an eight-inch square baking pan.

Cream the butter with a hand mixer on medium speed, then add the brown sugar and beat to combine.

Continuing on medium speed, add the egg, beer and molasses all at once and beat for up to two minutes, until well-combined.

Whisk together the flour, baking soda, spices and salt in a medium bowl.  Add to the butter mixture in three separate installments, beating well each time.

Gently stir the crystallized ginger into the batter and pour the mixture into the prepared baking pan.  Bake for 45-50 minutes, or until a toothpick stuck in the cake comes out clean.  Cool thoroughly on a baking rack.

While the cake is cooling, prepare the frosting.  Cream the cream cheese, vanilla and butter using a hand mixer on medium speed.  Add the powdered sugar in three installments, beat after each one.  When the mixture, is thoroughly blended, add the ginger and beat until combined.

Spread the frosting over the cake.  When serving, garnish each piece with a small chunk of crystallized ginger.

Serves 12-16, depending on how much you feel like sharing.

Cooking with Beer, Part Two: Mussels in White Beer-Mustard Sauce

Is there an unexplored market out there for people wanting to cook with beer?  The last cooking with beer post had an overwhelming response.  I kept thinking of a line from that 10,000 Maniacs song "Candy Everybody Wants":  "give 'em what they want."

Seriously, I'd forgotten what a good song it was.  Check it out.

But I digress.  It's been that kind of day.  I leave tomorrow for Portland to do the marathon on Sunday and I'm running around in circles. 

Hence, the need for a simple but satisfying fall dinner.  This recipe is adapted from a Bon Appetit recipe that called for five fresh herbs and about fifteen other ingredients.  I've streamlined it to use what I had in my fridge, but you could substitute whatever fresh herbs you had around:  the others in the original recipe were chives, tarragon and chervil.  Don't go crazy buying herbs for this, because whatever you've got will be just fine.  It's that kind of meal.

The recipe calls for Belgian white beer, but I went local again with another beer from Midnight Sun Brewery. 


Once again, who names these things?  Check out the Lady Godiva-esque figure.  Riding a caribou, no less. 

This goes together in less than half an hour, assuming you don't get all fancy about it.  I recommend against it.

Mussels Steamed in Beer with Parmesan Croutons
Adapted from Bon Appetit Magazine, May 2010

3 slices hearty white or sourdough bread, cut into 3/4 inch cubes

1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese, shredded

1 tbsp. olive oil

3/4 cup chopped fresh parsley

2/3 cup 2% milk

2 tbsp. Dijon mustard

1/2 tbsp. grainy mustard

1 tbsp. unsalted butter

3 garlic cloves, minced

2 tbsp. fresh thyme, chopped

2 lb. mussels, scrubbed

1/2 cup green onions (white and pale green parts only), chopped

1 12-ounce bottle white beer, local if possible

Fresh-ground black pepper and salt, to taste

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.  Toss the bread cubes, cheese and oil in a small bowl until the cubes are coated;  add extra oil if necessary.  Spread the cubes on a baking sheet and bake for 15 minutes or until golden brown.

While the croutons are baking, whisk together the milk and mustards in a small bowl and set aside. 

Chop the parsley and set aside.

Melt the butter in a large pot that has a lid.  Add the garlic and chopped thyme, stir for a minute until the garlic starts to brown.  Add the mussels, green onions and beer.

Add the mustard mixture and some pepper, then cover with the lid and allow to steam for 3 minutes. 

Add 2/3 of the parsley and cover the pot again.  Allow to cook for another 5 minutes.

Take off the lid and get rid of any mussels that are cracked and unopened.

Serve the mussels in a bowl with the broth poured over them;  garnish with the croutons and remaining parsley.

Makes up to 6 appetizer servings;  serves 4 as a main course.

Food/wine pairing:  David drank the leftover beer and I managed to try it--I think if you like beer, it's a great match.  Otherwise, pair with a high-acid Spanish wine such as Albariño.

In Praise of Oktober: Cooking with Beer

Yes, you read that title right.  Friday was the start of Anchorage's Oktoberfest, which obviously doesn't have a patch on the German version but is a much-loved event.  Polka bands, dancing, beer songs, and of course lots and lots of different kinds of beer.

I'm not a beer drinker.  With that said, I like the flavor of beer in food.  It gives a rich, malty quality to chili, tastes good in mussel dishes and--most especially-- is the essential flavor in beef carbonnade.

I first learned about this dish when David and I went to Brussels last year.  Although I picked a great hotel near the subway line, it wasn't particularly close to any interesting restaurants.  We wandered around and around our first night there and finally went into a undistinguished-looking little café.  The menu wasn't huge or varied, but there was the expected large beer list and the best dish I ate in Brussels:  beef carbonnade.

This is essentially a beef stew flavored with dark beer, either Belgian or Belgian-style.  The Midnight Sun Brewery in Anchorage makes a dark Belgian-style ale called Monk's Mistress, and I appreciate the local connection.  Sure, you could always use Chimay, but it might be fun to try a local beer.



Seriously, who gets the job of naming these things? 

This is Oktoberfest food:  full-flavored and hearty, tasting of fall. 

Beef Carbonnade (Belgian Beef Stew with Dark Beer)
Adapted from Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything and Bon Appetit Magazine

2 lbs. beef top round, trimmed of fat and tendon and cubed
All-purpose flour
4 tbsp. olive oil
2 large yellow onions, sliced into thick rounds
2 tbsp. unsalted butter
3 tbsp. brown sugar
6 garlic cloves, peeled and sliced
4  bay leaves
20 oz. dark Belgian or Belgian-style beer
2 cups beef broth, plus more to thin stew if needed
1/2 tsp. fresh thyme leaves
3 tbsp. red wine vinegar
1/4 chopped fresh parsley
Salt and fresh-ground pepper to taste

Dredge the beef cubes in flour.  Heat three tablespoons of oil in a large Dutch oven until shimmering.  Add the beef to the hot oil in batches--making sure not to overcrowd the cubes.  You don't want to overload the pan, otherwise the meat will steam rather than brown.  Brown each batch of cubes thoroughly, then drain on paper towels.

When the beef cubes are done, add the butter and last tablespoon of oil to the pan and stir to release the brown bits on the bottom.  Add the onions, sugar, the last tablespoon of butter and a tablespoon of red wine vinegar.  Sauté the onions until caramelized and soft, approximately 20 minutes.

When the onions are done, add the beef, beer, stock, garlic, bay leaves and thyme to the pot.  Cover the pot and simmer on the lowest heat for at least 1 hour and 45 minutes, until the beef is very tender.  Stir occasonally and add the last two tablespoons of red wine vinegar about half an hour from the end of the cooking time. 



The steam keeps it from being totally clear, but the stew thickens beautifully.  If you need to thin it, add extra stock.  If you like it thicker, use a flour-water slurry.

Add salt and freshly-ground pepper to taste.  Serve over hot egg noodles and sprinkle with parsley. 

Serves 4-6 as a main course.

Food/wine pairing:  Actually, beer might be the better choice here.  Drink a lighter-style Belgian ale, a German wheat beer or a stout.  If you prefer wine, try a Cabernet/Syrah blend such as Charles and Charles from Washington State.