Easy Chocolate

I fear that too often this blog becomes just a long litany of the things I find wrong with the Netherlands.  It's true that I do tend to write when I'm upset about something.  Take yesterday, when I came home crying after three teenagers laughed at me.  I was walking behind them on my way home from the store when one of the girls tossed her empty energy drink can into the bushes.  (What is it with those energy drinks?)  I'd like to think that most people would say something when confronted with such a blatant act of littering, and I did.  Maybe my Dutch sounded terrible, or maybe they were just assholes.  Either way, they looked at me laughed in my face and just kept walking.  I did tell them in English that they were assholes as I walked past them, and I'm not sure they understood me.  I'm not sure why I let three teenagers get under my skin, but I cried about it off and on for a good hour.

It was nothing that a bout of baking couldn't fix, which is the reason I found myself going to the store in the first place.  My brother-in-law and his girlfriend were coming to dinner, and it was high time for me to get back into the kitchen and dust off those baking skills of mine.  I picked a nice and easy chocolate cake for our mid-week meal, one that didn't even involve melting chocolate.  The recipe didn't even need a mixer, just two bowls and a box of really good cocoa powder.  In the world of chocolate, I know the Belgians get top billing, but when you think of cocoa, you really have to go to the Dutch--all because of that famous "Dutch process" some inventive nineteenth century Dutchman came up with.  I took Niek at his word a few years ago when he told me the Dutch were the largest exporters of cocoa in the world.  Apparently, the Dutch really are that important when it comes to moving cocoa all over the world (with 25 percent of the world market), although I hope they thank their growers in West Africa.  (If you're bored, you can check out this study done on the demand for Nigerian cocoa in the Dutch market.  So many Dutch companies tied up in the economic developments of that country.)  This is all to say that it's easy to find good cocoa here, easier even than in the States.  Also, I love the packaging.  Check out the sweet looking nurse on the front of the Droste box:

Full disclosure: I ended up using the last of the fancy cocoa from Fassbender & Rausch, which is not Dutch process cocoa.  It felt so great to make a cake again.  It was an easy three layer cake, and I think prepping the cake tins took longer than mixing the batter.

My assistant was less than helpful.

The baking time should have been twenty-five minutes, but it ended up taking three times that long thanks to my tiny oven.  It really is a pain to bake only one layer at a time.  I should be grateful that we have an oven, since landlord's aren't required to provide one.  I think it turned out well in the end.

Summertime quiche

Is there something about summer that makes people want to be productive in the kitchen?  I have been on some sort of weird cooking/baking bender as of late, and I have plenty of pictures to prove it.  Too bad I haven't been posting those pictures.  After letting these sit in my camera for a month, I finally decided today would be the day I would finally upload them.

Is it a procrastination technique in progress?  You betcha.  I haaaaaate the chapter I am editing and want to avoid looking at the mess on the page.  I think I dislike editing in general, but I've returned to a chapter I sort of gave up on about nine months ago, and what I wrote then is not very pretty or even coherent.  The voice of reason inside my head tells me that avoiding my chapter is not going to make it go away, and it will probably make my anxiety worse.  That is so true, and I hate my inner voice of reason for that, which is why I'll suppress it for about twenty more minutes.

Back to more interesting things, like quiche.  I am totally in love with this recipe from Piece of Cake, and I just throw in whatever vegetables happen to look good at the market.  Lately, it's been things like carrots and leeks, but I'll see where the summer takes me.  Quiche from start to finish: as easy as 1,2,3,4

Ah, delicious dinner, brought to me through the joy of using my rolling pin and my pie plate.  I don't really know what I would do without my American pie plates.  How do the Dutch cope without them or regular cake tins, for that matter?  Actually, I'm pretty sure they bake 99% of their cake/pie/quiche concoctions in springform pans.  Finding a cake tin that does not come with removable sides involves some good sleuthing skills (until you find the large cooking store in Amsterdam, at which point you cry out of happiness and learn that all searches for baking supplies should forever after start there).  So I am sure that if your kitchen does not house the "exotic" pie plate, you could make this quiche, too.

Just out of amusement, I took a picture of our dinner menu for that week.  It looks like a love letter to the god of carbohydrates.  In case you can't read it, here is the menu:

Sat) Pizza

Sun) Vegetable quiche

Mon) Pasta with pesto

Tues) N[iek] not eating at home

Wed) Zucchini soup with puffed pastry vegetable tarts

Thurs) Pasta with vegetables

Fri) Black bean tacos

Is pasta twice a week overkill?  When I lived in L.A. I ate it maybe four times a week.  I suppose I can chalk it up to life of a student and all that that entails.  I'm still a student, kind of, so I see pasta twice a week as a major improvement.

Coconuts

I'm back already!  To discuss something very important: the deliciousness of coconuts.

Actually, Diana's post on eating locally made me think about the availability of food here in Nigeria.  Many of the ingredients we buy in the market are local because, well, they have to be.  The system for distributing goods in Nigeria is shaky at best, so farmers sell their produce (vegetables, fruits, chicken, beef, etc.) close to home.  Locally-grown food is incredibly cheap: a huge bunch of greens for vegetable stew only costs 20 naira (about 13 cents).  A large bag of okra costs 50 naira (30 cents).  However, there is also a surprising amount of food imported into Ibadan.  Most of the vegetables come from the Middle Belt or northern Nigeria.  Much of the fish is frozen and flown in from abroad.  Whole stalls are dedicated to selling only canned and pre-packaged foreign goods.  Even ingredients grown in Nigeria are often processed somewhere outside of the the region.

There is little variety in the options of imported foods, but every week brings new and interesting local produce to the market.  Right now, for example, mature coconuts are in season and being hawked on every street corner.  (See how I brought this discussion back to coconuts?!  Phew.)  I love fresh coconut meat, pried out of the shell and sold in large pieces to eat as a snack with roasted corn.  In fact, if I don't reign it in a bit, I might turn into an ear of roasted corn myself.  With a side of coconut.

 

Sarah, my housemate, and I decided to try opening a coconut ourselves.  It provided ten solid minutes of entertainment, between throwing the shell as hard as we could at the floor and then trying to pry out the pieces with butter knives.  I am happy to report that the only lasting injury was a small cut to my ankle.

{Yes, my legs and arms are completely different colors. Kind of awesome, huh?}

Carried away by our coconut fever, Sarah and I have even started baking a mean coconut cake.  Of course, we use canned coconut milk from the supermarket and have thus far been too lazy to grate fresh coconut for the glaze.  But it is a Nigerian coconut cake in spirit.  I promise.

(recipe adapted from 'Vanilla Bean-Coconut Cupcakes' in the April 2009 Bon Appetit)

Combine:
2 cups flour
2 1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup butter
1 1/3 cups sugar
3 large eggs
1 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup coconut milk

Bake at 350 degrees for 20-25 minutes.

In a saucepan, heat leftover coconut milk (from 13-14 ounce can) with a spoonful of sugar, allowing liquid to reduce slightly.  Mix in 1 cup flaked/shredded coconut and pour glaze over warm cake.

{James checking out our coconut cake via Skype.  Mmmmmm.}

I have just one more week to eat locally in Nigeria - wish me luck!

A Nigerian Easter pie

I realize that I'm a few weeks behind here, but I can't miss the opportunity to tell you about the delicious pie that wasn't . . . 

James, my housemates and I invited Abigail and her family over for a good old-fashioned Easter celebration.  Egg-dyeing, candy-hunting and general tomfoolery.

 

I was excited to bake a 'real American' dessert for the occasion - pie.  Since pie is an unknown entity in Nigeria, James had to bring me pie plates from home (along with Cinnamon Life cereal, Cheez-its, peanut M&Ms, lavender and a vegetable peeler).  I proudly showed them to Abigail and assured her that my pie would knock her socks off.  She would be converted to the Way of Dessert.  But then, instead of baking a know-it's-going-to-be-good apple pie like a sensible person might, I decided to get tropical: I would bake a mango pie.  A beautiful, tasty culturally-symbiotic pie!

 

Unfortunately, my pie was kind of yucky.  It looked like a pumpkin pie, but tasted like a weird eggy mango custard.  Good thing we had Starbursts to eat after the egg hunt!  While the other Easter festivities were a roaring success, mango pie was not . . . so, lesson learned?  Eat pies.  Eat mangos.  Separately.

 

(James claims to have liked the pie.  

But he's very committed to Team Pie in the eternal pie vs. cake debate.)

Scones and Work

Do you ever feel like you are just going to die if you don't get something as soon as possible that is sugary, breadlike and goes well with an afternoon coffee?  No?  Well, good for you, although I don't understand you at all.  I get those urges a lot, and Niek's suggestion to go eat a piece of fruit to stifle that craving is insulting.  Firstly, gross, fruit and lattés don't go together at all.  Secondly, I have tried that trick before and no matter what nutritionists say, an apple does not make my desire for cake go away.  If anything it leaves me irritated, because I feel full from that stupid piece of fruit but completely unfulfilled.

I'm trying to get myself into a bit of a re-writing frenzy (when am I not doing this?) so I can finish a chapter and send it to my advisor.  This means spending a lot of time at home willing myself to be productive and taking lots of "breaks" with housework and yes, occasionally baking.  There's nothing particularly Dutch about the scones I made for myself during one of these said breaks.  Regan could even make these in Nigeria if she could her hands on some chilled butter.  Fortunately the Dutch are plagued/blessed with a surplus of dairy cattle, so that's not a problem for me.

In fact, the price of milk and butter is shockingly low here, probably because they've been conditioned to consume dairy in large quantities.  It's the only place I've ever been where it is standard practice to serve milk and buttermilk as drink options during a conference lunch.  I've been to a few history conferences here, and it's always the same lunch: lunch meat sandwiches and cheese sandwiches (but never meat and cheese together) and your choice of milk or buttermilk.  You should have seen the look the caterer gave me when I practically had to beg for a glass of water instead.

So when I found myself needing a snack to go with my coffee, I went for quick and easy.  A few turns of the food processor and fifteen minutes in the oven later, I had dense scone topped with some sugar and cinnamon to complement the coffee and work.  So much more satisfying than an apple.

Banana bread, Nigerian style

 

My backyard banana tree.  Mmmmmm.

Here in Nigeria, I don't cook.  I don't clean.  I don't wash my own clothes.  Basically, I get to be a lazy bum.  But to make up for my laziness, there is one thing I can do: bake cakes.  Honey cake, vanilla cake, lemon cake, banana cake . . . my cake evangelization may even have led to some conversions: I've been asked to bake birthday cakes, which always get a warm reception.  And believe me, if Nigerians didn't like the cake, they would tell me - no worrying about delicate feelings around here!

My campaign for cake awareness in Nigeria got off to a slow start, what with my liberal use of sugar (which is called 'iwo oyinbo,' or 'white person salt' in Yoruba) and my refusal to do frosting.  However, it has really picked up speed recently.  I'm trying to use more fruit and local spices -- and when I have enough self-control to get out my camera and snap a photo of the cake before cutting it up and wolfing down a piece, I'll be sure to blog about my experiments . . .

But for now, I'll just share my super simple banana cake recipe.  I picked this recipe off the internet because it called for melted butter - no need for a mixer.  What can I say?  My needs are simple here.  [And I can't remember where I found the recipe: but Thanks, random website!]

Combine:
1/3 C melted butter
3/4 C sugar

Add:
4 ripe mashed bananas
1 beaten egg
1 t vanilla (I like to add an extra 1/2 teaspoon.)

Fold in:
1.5 C flour
1 t baking soda
pinch of salt

Pour in loaf pan or square dish and bake at 350 F for 45 - 60 minutes.

This is the only picture I took of the baking/eating process. Oops!  

Diana, here is a warm, sunny picture of banana leaves to give you a taste of the tropics.  

And although my bananas are probably a lot better than yours,  you get to drink lattes.

Lucky duck.