homemade sriracha

those who know me,

know that i will never get

over the thrill - a thrill that

is probably only mine - of making

something in my kitchen that

a saner person would settle for

coming out of a bottle, box or bakery.

so, i appreciate my small doses of joy,

making marshmallows and quince paste

and preserved lemons, and other things

like beer mustard, grape nuts,

graham crackers and sesame-topped

hamburger buns, which

i don't think i've ever told you about.

(scratch that - i did talk briefly about

the buns.) i always keep my eyes

open for the next homemade adventure.

i discovered the newest project to

make my family ask why,

(why, brooke, why?

you know you can just buy that, right?)

several months ago,

tucked into the finalist page of

food52. the contest was

your best condiment and

the candidate i was instantly

drawn to was

fresh sriracha (aka, homemade "rooster").

to be honest, this one was chosen as the

runner up and i cannot remember what won.

(ok, to be fair (or maybe meaner?),

i just looked up the winner.

it is called

dead guy sauce.

maybe i never knew?

i think i would have remembered

something with a name like that.)

but, i've digressed.

back to the rooster.

we are a family who

always has sriracha in the fridge door

(along with too many other hot sauces,

mustards and other condiments to count),

so how could i pass up the opportunity to

make a from-scratch batch?

there was only one roadblock:

red fresno chilies. i could not find

them anywhere and when a recipe

only has 5 ingredients, i think it's

a pretty good idea to stick closely

to the original.

i looked in my local grocery stores.

i looked in my asian markets.

i asked people, from my friends to

my boss, to keep an eye out for red fresnos,

promising that i'd pay them back and

give them sriracha for their troubles.

my (now former) boss said ok,

but i think he was surprised and tried,

as was his right to do, to promptly

forget the request.

and then, because everything has

just been slightly easier over the past

couple weeks, i turned around in

a new-to-me market and realized

i was staring at a basket of them.

i grabbed three handfuls and headed

to the scale, shocked that i had

pulled exactly 1/2 pound and thinking

maybe this was a sign that the recipe

was meant to be.

when i got home,

i set to work seeding and chopping

the peppers using my wing and a prayer

method: don't use gloves and then

cross your fingers that you don't

accidentally touch your eyes.

i tossed them into a container with

a few giant cloves of garlic,

distilled white vinegar and kosher salt.

i shook it a couple times, because

i can't leave well enough alone, and

faced the consequences the next morning

when i accidentally tipped a good tablespoon

or two onto the counter.

later that next day,

i tossed the whole lot into a

small saucepot with a few tablespoons

of tropical, gooey palm sugar, let the whole

thing simmer for five minutes and then,

waited really impatiently for the

mixture to cool. after 10 minutes,

steam was still rising from the top.

so, i transferred it to the blender,

hoping it would cool faster outside

of the hot pot. after 10 more minutes,

i couldn't take it. i wanted out of the

kitchen. sometimes i get like that.

so, i took my chances, tossed a dish towel

over the blender, hit puree and pressed on the lid

with all my might, praying that larry wouldn't

come home to me and our schoolhouse slate-colored

walls, covered in chili sauce. he didn't have to.

and two minutes into the blending, i gathered

up the nerve to let go and take a picture.

i almost didn't strain the mixture.

it seemed like the right consistency, and frankly,

i have a certain hatred for straining, especially

when recipes instruct you to press hard to

extract all the liquids. but i did and it was

barely any work.

and, then, i tasted the sriracha,

worried that i would be forced to admit

that i should have, for once,

just left well enough

alone and continued to buy our

standard squeeze bottle.

but, happily, that is not the case.

this recipe does everything it promises -

delivering the same flavor we expect

from our asian chili sauce, but significantly

fresher, less salty and, as i already knew

from the ingredients, without the

crazy preservatives.

and, i'm sure you'll be shocked to know:

i think it was totally worth it.

homemade sriracha

adapted from edamame2003 via food52

i wasn't sure if i was meant to seed the peppers or not - it didn't say in the recipe (which i think most people would take to mean, don't seed). i opted to take the seeds out, worried about the potential spice level if they were kept in. but, i did make the decision not to sweat it if some seeds made their way into the vinegar. i was very happy with the spice level, but for a spicier sauce, i'm guessing you could keep them all in.

also - as i think you can see from the picture, the chili sauce was slightly foamy when first made. that went away after it spent a night in the fridge.

1/2 pound red fresno chili peppers

4 large cloves garlic, peeled and trimmed

1 teaspoon kosher salt

1 cup distilled white vinegar

2 tablespoons palm sugar

halve peppers; seed (or don't - see note). chop peppers. place in jar or container with lid; add garlic, salt and vinegar. stir; cover tightly. let sit overnight.

the next day, transfer mixture to small saucepot; add palm sugar and stir to combine. over high heat, bring to a boil; reduce heat to medium-low. let simmer 5 minutes. remove from heat; let cool.

transfer cooled mixture to blender; puree 5 minutes, or until smooth and mixture is an orange-reddish color. pour into strainer set in bowl; pressing to release as much liquid as possible. (it may seem a little thin, but it will thicken up in the fridge.)

transfer chili sauce to a jar, bottle or squeeze container. the mixture should keep for about 1 month.

homemade pride

there are several things

that i have made,

simply because i'm

surprised

and

amazed

to find out that i can.

that's how the whole deal

with marshmallows began,

why i first made graham crackers,

and how i ran to the store late

one saturday night to get yeast,

determined to make english muffins

for sunday morning's breakfast.

and that was initially most of

my thought process with

ricotta cheese.

i can't even remember how long

ago it was that i learned

ricotta cheese could easily

be made at home.

and even though i printed out

a recipe and debated what i should

use it for,

i still held onto that piece of paper

for way too long.

last week i decided - no doubt

fueled by the success of

slow-roasted tomatoes -

that that was it,

no more excuses:

i was making ricotta.

--

larry reacted true to form.

first giving me that look,

letting me know that he thinks

i'm crazy.

next, he asked, very simply, why?

and after that didn't work,

he gave it a last ditch attempt,

reminding me that i could

buy it for a lot less work.

later, he asked what i was going to

do with it. when i said i didn't

yet know, but that wasn't the point,

he shrugged his shoulders and

dropped the subject,

no doubt clear in his defeat.

--

but because i'm never content

to just make it easy,

i searched for a different

recipe, wanting to guarantee

that i went with the right method.

i found this one,

then debated all afternoon.

it wasn't until i was in the store,

staring at all the milks

that i decided to stick to my guns

and go with my first recipe.

i owed it that much after

years waiting its turn

in the binder.

i made one change,

breaking a major rule of mine:

never ever change a recipe the

first time you make it.

make it the way it was intended first,

then feel free to play, tinker and add.

it's not that i don't adjust

here and there,

but when a recipe is fundamentally based

on very few ingredients,

it seems more than wrong

to mess with any

of them.

i never buy full-fat ricotta,

so, it seemed kind of weird for me

to make the cheese all fat at home.

i took a big leap, and bought

1% milk, knowing that if i didn't

have cheese at the end of the

experiment, i'd have no one

to blame but myself.

i also switched the heavy cream

for light cream, worried that i needed

extra fat that whole milk

just would not be able to provide.

in spite of these changes,

when i mixed together the

milk,

cream,

and salt,

in a pot, and brought them

to a boil, they boiled anyway

(not that there was really

any doubt about that part).

and after, i

added the lemon juice

called for,

plus just a smidge more,

i crossed my fingers

that the mixture would

in fact curdle.

at first, i thought the curds

were tiny, and that there

weren't enough.

i was sure that the whole

thing concoction would slip

through the cheesecloth

and all wind up in the bottom

of the bowl,

still liquid.

but a minute later, i experimented,

lifting up the spoon i was using to stir

and was pleasantly surprised to

see that it contained a good amount of cheese.

it was now or never.

i poured the mixture into

the cheesecloth-lined strainer,

eyes half closed and was very

happy to realize that there was quite

a lot of cheese in the bowl.

i tasted i small bit -

very hot

still wet -

but unmistakingly, ricotta.

even though this recipe had said to strain

the cheese for one hour,

the other one called for only 15 minutes.

i took a chance around 20

(after a quick straining test to make sure

it wasn't still dripping wet)

and spread it onto the

whole grain pizza dough i had just grilled.

then, i topped it with the

heirloom bruschetta i had stirred together

while the cheese was draining.

and i was so glad for that.

you see - i like ricotta.

i can appreciate the creamy texture

and the smoothness it lends

to a dish. i can get behind the

hard to beat clean cheese flavor.

but, i can't help to find ricotta

a little bit bland.

i rarely use it without

spicing the whole mixture

up with

garlic

lemon

salt

pepper

and more.

this time, i wanted to enjoy

it for the simple ingredient

it was. i added nothing to it,

but on top, was a different story.

the balsamic, basil and red onion-spiked

bruschetta over the crispy smoky crust,

encouraged the cheese to taste like

the most complex of

ingredients.

the next night,

i scooped a spoonful of the

significantly dryer ricotta

into a bowl,

sprinkled it with ground cinnamon,

drizzled everything with honey

and tossed a handful of blueberries

on top.

it was a lovely treat -

creamy and indulgent,

gently spiced and

not too sweet.

but thanks to the summer fruit,

extremely fresh.

oddly,

i've waited years to

make ricotta, never actually

discussing it with anyone,

but just days after this batch

was made, my friend colleen

wrote about her experience

making ricotta that very

weekend. it's not such a

surprise - in the past

we've made garlic scapes

at the same time and

this past weekend for my

birthday, she whipped up a

batch of peach cupcakes that i

had my eye on to bake.

but to me, the best part was

that she had made the other

recipe, so i now have proof

that both work.

obviously, if you're in a hurry,

i cannot dispute that it's easier

to buy a container

from the store.

but if you have even

the tiniest

bit of time,

it's worth it to make

ricotta at home.

the only reason

this actually takes

a few extra minutes

is because you have to

wait for the mixture to come

to a boil.

after that, it's fast,

smooth sailing -

the equivilant of making pasta.

seriously.

don't wait as long as i did.

homemade ricotta cheese

adapted from gourmet magazine

the original recipe called for whole milk and heavy cream, which i'm sure would have been delicious. i made this with 1% milk and light cream. on the first night, it was lovely. the second night it was still good, but much dryer. the original recipe called to let the mixture drain for 1 hour. i was very happy with the texture after 20 minutes of draining - so i used it then. if you prefer a less wet ricotta, let it strain longer.

1/2 gallon 1% milk

1 cup light cream

1/2 teaspoon salt

3 generous tablespoons fresh lemon juice

line a large sieve with cheesecloth (i gave it four layers); place over a large bowl and set aside.

in large heavy saucepot over medium heat, bring milk, cream and salt to a rolling boil, stirring occasionally to prevent scorching.

add lemon juice; reduce heat to low and cook 2 minutes, or until the mixture curdles, stirring constantly. gently pour mixture into sieve. let drain 20 minutes to 1 hour.

cover and chill in fridge. keeps for up to two days.