Showing posts with label zest. Show all posts
Showing posts with label zest. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Z is for Zest and Zuppa Inglese


Well, I’m sad. This has been a very fun month for me with interesting posts to write and all sorts of swell folks dropping in to comment. Thank you for that! I do hope that you are intrigued enough to read my culinary mystery, Mission Impastable (and the sequels), as well. If so, I would love hearing from you about your reading experience. And if you’re in a book club that reads mysteries, and you choose Mission Impastable, I am available to Skype with your group. Check out the book club kit I put together for MI, too! Free for the taking!

Now let’s get to it!

Z is for Zest
Zest is both a noun and a verb. Cool, huh.

The noun definition for zest is the colored part of the skin of citrus. (Not the bitter white underneath layer). Zest is filled with oil and is an intense version of the fruit. When it is removed and added to dishes, as an ingredient or as a decorative element, zest elevates the dish beyond using juice alone.

My salmon marinade includes fresh orange juice and the zest of that orange. The bright notes of the citrus really give a pop to the dish.

The fun comes when zest is a verb. To zest (the verb) citrus means to use a special grater that creates these light and fluffly little shreds of zest (the noun) so you can use it in recipes. You run the sharp blades of the zester across the skin and collect as much zest as needed for recipes.

Yes, there is a special kitchen gadget called a zester. Here’s a link to buy your own zester if you don’t have one. Okay, true, you can do zesting the old-fashion way with a paring knife or veggie peeler, but why would you? Truly, this zester is a tool I use at least once a week, so I keep it handy! http://amzn.to/1o31dRP
 
I zest lemons, grapefruits, and oranges from our own trees and freeze the zest to use in recipes later. Not quite as good as the fresh, but dang close!


Z is for Zuppa Inglese (ZOO-puh   een-GLAY-zeh)
Zuppa Inglese is a soup--a dessert soup. In Italian, it means “English soup” and is very like a British trifle.

I’ve never made zuppa inglese, but I have made trifle. The pictures on the Web do not look like soup at all. They all look very like trifles. The origin of zuppa inglese is unknown, though there are many colorful tales about its creation. We do know that it goes back at least to the 1500’s.

Traditionally, zuppa inglese is sponge cake (flavored with the zest of lemons or oranges! and an Italian herb liqueur or rum). The cake is layered with custard. Sometimes candied fruit and/or toasted almonds are added. Meringue might be on top.

But why zuppa inglese is called soup is lost in history, cause this ain’t soup!

We’ve come to the end of our month together, but I hope you looked around “Parsley, Sage, and Rosemary Time” to see the range of offerings and that you are enticed to return. Every February, my readers choose a category, and I post at least one recipe a day in that category. In 2012 I posted soups. In 2013, I posted chicken recipes, and this year was appetizers. Come back next February, if not before, and see what I am cooking up. 

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

A (Citrus) Zest for Life

Who knew? DH, ignoring stacked up dirty pots, picked up my zester from the counter and said suspiciously, “What’s this?”


“Oh, you know. My zester.”


DH: “Huh? You use this to feel more zest? I can make you zestier.” (Waggling of eyebrows)


“I didn’t say it is to make one ‘zestier’; it is to make ‘zest.’


DH: “How does it work? There’s no plug.”


“Right. Not all kitchen gadgets have plugs. Here’s what you do.” I picked up an orange from the fruit bowl, and began to zest away.


DH: “It’s going to take a long time to ‘zest’ a cup of that. Then what? We eat it? And don’t you have it upside down?”


“Look, I’m the professional amateur here. I know what I’m doing. See all this great zest?”


He shook his head and wandered away from my kitchen. Good riddance. If you can’t at least wash up a pot while you’re here, go do something else. But don’t question my gadgets.


I happily zested away when I first got my zester. I zested fish for broiling. I mixed zest into frostings. I seasoned salad dressings. Oh, what fun it is to zest!


BUT—horrors! I was watching a food channel show and the host picked up the zester and began to use it wrong. Or . . . could it be? Was I wrong?


I was initially mortified. DH was right. I had it upside down. The professional was zesting holding the zester under the fruit and moving the fruit across the surface with zest falling into a fluffy pile of lemon yellow beneath.


I, on the other, and apparently wrong, hand put my zester on top of the fruit and move the zester. This way, the zest accumulates in the little trough and I can tell if I have a tablespoon yet.


I may be wrong, but I still believe using my zester the wrong way is the right way. How do you know how much you have zested because those little cutting teeth have a whole bunch more that you can add to your pile.


My advice is to try it the professional’s way and my way. You can vote below so we can see who prefers what.


We have orange, lemon, and grapefruit trees in our backyard. Excuse me while I go hunt for more recipes with zest. Though I have many recipes, so far my favorite original creation remains my Cranberry-Lemon Cream Scones. Easy-peasy, and I always get compliments.


Surprise your family with some for breakfast tomorrow morning. They’ll adore you even more than they already do.


Cranberry-Lemon Cream Scones (makes 9 scones)

3 c. flour

3 T. sugar

3 t. baking powder

½ t. salt

2 c. Bakers’ whipping cream

6 oz. pkg. dried cranberries

½ c. almond slivers, toasted

zest from 2 lemons, divided

1 ½ c. powdered sugar

Juice of 1 ½ lemons, divided

Heat oven to 400°. PAM a cookie sheet. Combine flour, sugar, baking powder, zest of one lemon, and salt. Add cream. Mix. Add cranberries, almonds, juice of ½ lemon, and zest from one lemon. (Tip: handle scone dough as little as possible to keep it tender.) Divide dough into nine balls. Flatten each ball into rounds like a hamburger patty. Bake for 10-13 minutes or until golden brown. Cool 5 minutes. Mix powdered sugar with remaining lemon juice and zest. Use your taste-o-meter to see if you want it more lemony. Drizzle over warm scones.