sriracha salt

i box myself in. a lot.

i made the sriracha because

we like sriracha. because i wanted

to make something instead of buying

it in the store. i made it as an experiment.

but, if i'm being honest, bottles of sriracha

that we buy spend a long time in the fridge

before they're finished.

but, then. i did it anyway.

i made a huge quantity of a sauce

that says it's best used within one month.

i'll admit, i tend to ignore those time frames,

often viewing them more as suggestions,

than an absolute rule. but still - i was nervous.

i had a lot of sriracha.

so, i searched out recipes.

i found two that were intriguing - one

for a cheddar bread that is swirled with

sriracha and a second that didn't even involve

an oven or a stove: sriracha salt.

i haven't made the bread yet.

but, the next morning, while larry was

making the coffee, i pulled out a baking sheet,

parchment paper and salt. larry and erin, who

had spent the night, looked at each other.

they clearly were worried. i think they were

imagining an elaborate sunday morning breakfast

that they would not actually get to eat until

well into the afternoon.

i promised them that it wouldn't be bad

and that it would be over quickly. i begged

larry to keep making the coffee.

i placed the salt in the bowl and from there,

erin took over. she added sriracha, stirred

it into the salt and then spread it onto

the parchment-lined baking sheet with

much more patience than i would ever have.

and that was it.

i placed it on the side of the kitchen,

stirring it probably three times over three days.

the first two times, i worked to break up a few

of the clumps that had formed.

when the salt was completely dry,

i transferred it to an air tight container.

have i used the salt?

once - in three weeks.

the irony is not lost on me.

sriracha salt

adapted from the sriracha cookbook via epicurious.com

i loved the idea of this and if you don't mind the fact that you'll have a sheet pan sitting out in your kitchen for a couple days, it's a fun recipe to try. i wish that the sriracha flavor was more pronounced. every once in a while, when weirdly tempted to try it, i get a spicy grain. But otherwise, the infusion is, what i would call, mild. the grains are, however, quite a pretty pink color.

1/2 cup kosher salt

5 teaspoons sriracha

in bowl, stir together salt and sriracha. on a parchment-lined baking sheet, spread into as thin of a layer as possible. let sit, stirring once or twice, for one to two days, or until completely dry. when i stirred, i broke up the small clumps that had formed.

store in a small airtight container.

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.

i made quince paste!

everyone who cooks

has that giant stack of recipes

somewhere - in a binder,

a notebook, a file on the computer,

in their minds - titled

some variation of,

to make, some day.

while this is certainly true

for me, i have about five or six

that have stayed at the very

top of the list for years,

seemingly always edged

out by another recipe

or simply, because

it's the wrong season.

but somehow,

over the past week

(and this one that i'm

going to tell you about today,

a little longer ago),

i've made my way through

four of them.

yes, four, after years of waiting.

i can't believe it either.

i'm not sure if i just

got it together or

it was the pressure (um, inspiration)

of this blog, but somehow,

i did it. i can attest that three

were a huge success. the other

one? we're having tonight

for dinner, so i'll let you

know soon.

first up?

obviously, quince paste,

also known as membrillo.

i had my first bite

of manchego and membrillo

years ago at a press party in

california. the combination -

hard salty cheese

on top of the orange fruity paste -

and i became fast friends,

mostly because all the other

passed options were

filled with meat or

wrapped with bacon.

after that, quince paste

sort of floated in and out

of my life, sometimes popping

up on cheese and dessert plates,

or on delicious crostinis.

somewhere along the way,

i looked it up,

found this recipe that

looked simple enough

and made a mental note.

but that was out.

this year, larry and i welcomed

in the new year at home

and to celebrate, i made us

a cheese plate. after picking

out the cheeses,

my eyes fell upon the pricey

quince paste.

we had had a rough week

and i decided to splurge.

it was so worth it and

absolutely the best

thing for a cheese plate,

which, um, hello?

of course it was.

but really, the sweet, firm

almost gumdrop-like

paste was delicious

next to the soft

and firm cheeses alike.

this is not just a

manchego condiment.

but we had a lot

left over and i was determined

for it not to go to waste.

true inspiration came

the next time i was making

turkey burgers. i usually stuff

them with boursin and then

never know what to put

on top. i've tried lots of condiments

to not so favorable results and just

dry, which is also not

ideal.

i cut very thin slices and placed

them on top of the patty.

it was amazing and i was so

happy to have solved

my always-forget dilemma.

only problem?

there was no way that i

was spending $7.99 again.

so i revisited the recipe,

but then realized that directions

meant very little

without quince,

the apple-looking fruit that

is used as the base.

so i put the recipe

again to the back of my mind.

then, months later,

larry was meeting

friends for dinner and i decided

to stop at a different

grocery store to pick up a few things.

right there, quince for just $1.99 a pound.

i remembered two pounds

and grabbed four, hoping

my memory was not failing me.

it didn't and when i got home

and consulted the recipe,

i was relieved to note that the only

other things i needed

were sugar and water,

two items that are always

easy to come by in this house.

the proccess looked easy.

i just had to set the quince in

the oven to bake for two hours,

peel them, puree them,

then stir the puree together

with sugar until firm,

pour into a mold, wrap

and wait.

in theory, it's that easy.

but i think quince are typically

available in the fall

and that is probably the best

time to make this dish

if you are, like me,

in a kitchen without

an air conditioner.

once they were peeled

and pureed, they were supposed

to go through a strainer.

i started to, but i quickly realized

i wasn't going to make it

through all the batches

with my sanity still in tact

and that the texture was smooth

enough for me. so i stirred

the one strained bowlful

back into the rest of it and

crossed my fingers that it

would balance everything out.

i tasted the pale beige mixture

just before simmering and it

looked and tasted like baby food,

nothing like the silky paste

i've enjoyed in the past.

i set the timer for 25 minutes,

turned on the burner

and started simmering.

when you're alone and stuck

with a mind-numbing task,

you need to make deals with yourself

to get through.

so, i promised myself

i wouldn't look at the clock for at least 10

minutes. instead, i would carefully

examine the puree, watching

for color or texture differences

and think about how at least when

you make risotto, the constant stirring

is broken up by occasionally adding

broth to the pan. soon, i knew it hadn't

been 10 minutes, but i had to look.

23:39.

oh no.

so i made a decision that i was

early enough in the process that i could

stop stirring for the 15 seconds

that it would take for me to run

and turn on the cd player

in the living room,

taking my chances with whatever

disc was inside.

the five indigo girls songs that

followed made the entire situation

so much more manageable.

in between closer to fine

and least complicated,

i was actually able to ignore

how hot i was and appreciate

that after about 10 minutes of

stirring, the puree had deepened

in color a bit,

and with 5 minutes more,

the texture had changed considerably.

(my neighbors, on the other hand,

probably were not so happy.)

the recipe had read to stir for 25 minutes,

or until it is thickened and the mixture

pulls away from the pan.

with about 3 or 4 minutes left,

the texture did change,

but not quite like the directions had said.

so i kept stirring

and after 25 minutes were

up, i held on for two extra minutes,

before deciding that i had

probably put in

several minutes of overtime.

i quickly poured the paste

into the readied loaf pan

(i don't have a terrine).

once cool, i wrapped it up

and stuck it in the fridge.

it no longer looked like

baby food, i thought -

much more membrillo-like.

it wasn't until the next day

that i realized i don't very often

put out cheese plates

and that it might be quite

a while until i actually

would need or even use the paste.

thank goodness the recipe says

that you have three months.

it took a while, but i made

the turkey burgers and while

i worried that the paste was

too firm thanks to the

overzealous cooking,

once put on the hot burger,

it softened.

and oddly enough,

we ended up with a few

cheeses recently,

and i was very excited

to pull out the loaf and cut

off another slice.

just as the purchased

membrillo was

8 months earlier,

this one was a delicious

sweet foil for the

rich cheeses.

i still have a bunch

left - i'm formulating

plans. but i'm so glad

that i finally got my

act together and made

a batch. now that i did

it, i have no idea

why it took me so long.

quince paste (membrillo)

adapted from gourmet magazine

with the exception of straining, i followed this recipe exactly. i wanted to use less sugar, but i was too afraid that the mixture wouldn't gel. so i used almost all of it all - and while it's a bit of a sweet food on its own, that's not usually how you eat it. with cheese or on a turkey burger, it's exactly right. if you have help - someone else to take turns stirring or to help you pour into the terrine, you'll be happy - but if not, go for it anyway. i did it alone and lived to tell the tale. just have good music on standby.

4 medium quinces (about 2 pounds total)

1/4 cup to 1/2 cup water

2 to 3 cups sugar

heat oven to 350˚f. lightly oil a 1 quart terrine or loaf pan.

wash quinces; dry well. place quinces in a heatproof baking dish. cover tightly with foil and bake 2 hours or until quince can be pierced easily with a fork. transfer quince to a rack until cool enough to handle. using sharp knife, peel, core and cut them.

in food processor, puree pulp with 1/4 cup water. blend until smooth adding extra 1/4 cup water, if necessary (note, this took me the full 1/2 cup water). you can strain it here into a bowl if you want, i didn't.

measure puree. measure out an equal amounto of sugar (example: if you have 2 1/2 cups of puree, use 2 1/2 cups of sugar). i had about 2 2/3 cups of puree and i used just under that amount of sugar (about 2 1/2 cups).

add puree and sugar to a heavy three quart saucepot. heat over medium-high heat for 25 minutes, stirring constantly, or until the mixture is thickened, changes color and pulls away from the pan. immediately turn off the heat, pour the puree into the greased pan and use an offset spatula to smooth down the top. loosely cover with plastic wrap and chill 4 hours, or until firm.

run knife around mold and invert onto plate. use, or wrap well: wrap in wax paper, then in plastic wrap and chill. it will keep for up to three months.