Step 13: Air Conditioning, cinnamon bread

My friends, yesterday was hot.

I don't mean that in the colloquial sense, I literally mean it was 90 degrees in our apartment and I refused to blow dry my hair. I wore a dress not because it was an occasion which required it, but because I don't own a pair of shorts. I was excited for work not only because I enjoy my job, but because the YMCA is air conditioned.

Just a few days ago, I remember thinking to myself that we should hold out, that we should attempt to make it through the summer without buying window units, because we're moving in September, and our new housing is (so far as we know) air conditioned. That it would be silly to buy something that we would only use for three months, and that instead, we should spend our money on, you know, something permanent. That we lasted a good two months of hot weather in this apartment when we moved here in August, and it was just fine thankyouverymuch and we are capable of suffering through this time.

I was wrong. Oh man, I was wrong.

Perhaps it's because my family always kept the house at a cool low-60-some degrees from late spring to mid fall. Perhaps it's because the humidity on the first hot day here was so high that I felt like my pillow had a layer of damp on it when I laid down. Perhaps it's because I absolutely refuse to turn on the oven when the house is that warm. Perhaps it's because I'm a wimp. (I'm thinking it's all of the above, but mostly the last one).

J. and I bit the bullet, and used jar money (the money we refuse to admit to ourselves that we have until a. air conditioning is needed, b. emergencies, or c. vacation) to buy two window units, and I am more thankful than I have ever been in my life that J. and I are equally stubborn when it comes to being uncomfortable in our own home. It should also be noted that J. installed both units, for which I am eternally grateful.

Because of the aforementioned air conditioning, I have a slightly unseasonal recipe to post today. For some inexplicable reason, I was craving cinnamon bread. I've been thinking about it for days. The spiced swirl, the soft, chewy interior, the just slightly crispy crust. Eating it by unfurling it like a cinnamon roll, rather than a piece of bread. Completely good on its own, no need for any topping. I simply couldn't help myself.

It's worth it, even in 90 degree weather. I would have considered making it even without the air conditioning.

Cinnamon Swirl Bread
Lightly adapted from the Pioneer Woman

For the bread
1 cup milk
6 tablespoons butter/margarine
2 ½ teaspoons active dry yeast
2 whole eggs
⅓ cups sugar
3 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup whole wheat flour
1 teaspoon salt

For the swirl
Scant 1/3 cup sugar
1 tablespoon brown sugar
2 tablespoons cinnamon

For the top
egg and milk, mixed together, for brushing

Melt butter/margarine with milk. Heat until very warm, make sure not to boil. Allow to cool slightly. Sprinkle yeast over the top, stir gently, and allow to sit for 10 minutes.

Combine flours and salt.

In the bowl of an electric mixer, mix sugar and eggs with the paddle attachment until combined. Pour in milk/butter/yeast mixture and mix to combine. Add half the flour mixture and beat on medium speed until combined. Add the other half and beat until combined.

Switch to the dough hook attachment and beat/knead dough on medium speed for ten minutes. The dough should come together in a ball around the hook. If dough is overly sticky, add 1/4 cup flour and beat again for 5 minutes.

Heat a metal or glass mixing bowl so it’s warm. Drizzle in a little canola oil, then toss the dough in the oil to coat. Cover bowl in plastic wrap (I didn't have any, I used a towel and it worked just fine) and let rise for at least 2 hours.

Turn dough out onto the work surface. Roll into a  rectangle no wider than the loaf pan you’re going to use, and about 18 to 24 inches long. Smear with 2 tablespoons melted butter. Mix sugars and cinnamon together, then sprinkle evenly over the butter-smeared dough. Starting at the far end, roll dough toward you, keeping it tight and contained. Pinch seam to seal.

Smear loaf pan with softened butter. Place dough, seam down, in the pan. Cover with plastic wrap and allow to rise for 2 hours.

NOTE: I skipped this. I was hungry and impatient. The bread turned out just fine. At some point I'll try it again with the second rise, but if you, like me, are feeding both a craving and a boyfriend, it's acceptable to skip it. 

Preheat oven to 350°.

Mix a little egg with milk, and smear over the top. Bake for 40 minutes on a middle/lower rack in the oven.

Allow to cool for 15 minutes (I did 5 in the pan, and then turned it out onto a cooling rack for 10. The fact that it lasted that long before I cut into it is a miracle, due to the previously indicated hunger and boyfriend. Just saying.)

Slice. Consume. Enjoy. Repeat.

Step Twelve: Birthdays and Bruschetta

As of yesterday, I am 24.

It's been a nice birthday. It was well timed to be just after an alumni event for the theatre department at my alma mater, so I was able to see friends and family, and it just so happened to fall on a day when my only class was to go fight choreograph a show. J. gave me very thoughtful, personal gifts, and brought home this absolutely stunning orchid, followed by incredibly vibrantly cheerfully yellow sunflowers, and absolutely divine smelling lilac.

For my birthday dinner, we drove down to Newport and ate at one of our favorite restaurants. My lobster mac and cheese was good, but I have to say, all of the food was utterly forgettable when compared to the bruschetta.

I don't like raw tomatoes. I make an exception for bruschetta.

This particular bruschetta had a perfectly seasoned batch of tomatoes, on top of the kind of bread that is both wonderfully crispy and still soft and chewable, fresh basil, melty and creamy and delicious fresh mozzarella, and balsamic vinegar.

Oh Lord, the balsamic vinegar.

This wasn't just a drizzle. It was a separate bowl. Of balsamic reduction. Clearly high quality balsamic vinegar that was reduced to the consistency of the most luscious, smooth, thick syrup in the history of ever.

Yes, I said it, and I meant it. The history of ever.

J. and I couldn't stop just dipping our fingers in it just so we could keep that incredible taste on our tongue as we waited for our entrees. We agreed, that particular reduction would make cardboard taste gourmet. I've been known to make inappropriately excited noises about ice cream (okay, about Jeni's ice cream) but never for anything like this. My god, I'm still drooling now. I legitimately dreamt about it that night.

So it's no surprise that I attempted to make my own at home. I must say, I had a near perfect replica in all but the reduction. The first attempt I let it reduce so much that I now have a bowl of balsamic caramel sitting on my counter. Tasty, sure, but not right for bruschetta. And it sticks to my teeth in a way I find unpleasant. The second attempt came much closer, I think had I left it on the stove for another 3-5 minutes it would have been perfect.

And so, I give you my version of the Brick Alley Pub's Tuscan Bruschetta

Bruschetta
Makes 8-10 slices depending on how much of the tomato mixture is used per.  

For the Tomato Mixture
2 Cloves Garlic, crushed
1 Tomato, seeded
2-3 teaspoons grated pecorino romano cheese
1 tsp Extra Virgin Olive Oil
Several tablespoons shredded basil, to taste
Salt and Pepper to taste

Combine, stir, let chill in the fridge for 2 hours so that all of the flavors can meld and turn into something entirely out of this world. Drain off excess liquid before serving.

Put good balsamic vinegar in a pan. Let reduce until clearly thickened, coating the back of a spoon, about the consistency of a thin syrup. This will continue to thicken as it cools. Let cool before serving. 

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Slice french bread into one to one-and-a-half inch slices, cut diagonally. Melt enough butter/olive oil in a skillet to coat both sides of the bread. Cook till golden brown. Top with slices of fresh mozzarella. Bake for 3-5 minutes, until cheese is melted and is beginning to show signs of pizza like browning.

Top the cheese bread with 1-2 tablespoons of the tomato mixture. Drizzle with the balsamic reduction. Make inappropriate noises and think of me.

Step Eleven: Long hiatus, production weeks, and quitting your job

So, I've been a terrible blogger.

My last two months, in review, and then the fun stuff:
Early January: Came back from Ohio, launched into rehearsals for the show I was in, as well as the two shows I was directing, and the show for which I was assistant directing.
Mid January: Show I was in went up, left my job
End of January: Show I was in concluded
First week of February: Show number one I directed
Second week of February: Show number two I directed
Third week of February: Show number three, which I assistant directed

Whew! Five production weeks, four different shows, in three different cities, and two different states.

I... am exhausted. Thoroughly. If I ever try to do this again, someone smack me, alright? Seriously...

Now, in that time frame, some very important things happened. One, I learned never to do this to myself again. Two, J. built us a headboard and we bought a couch. Three, I celebrated an anniversary. Four, I learned how to leave a job.

This last one may sound trivial, but as someone who has never, ever before done anything like that, it was a pretty huge experience, and it was a necessary one. I miss my students, and I felt like a terrible person leaving them behind, but for my finances, and my sanity, it was one of the best decisions I've ever made. Though I've only ever done this once, a word of advice: Stand your ground. Know that this decision is the right one, and go in there with that conviction. It also helps to have other jobs lined up. Which I did.

Now onto the fun stuff.

Thoroughly Modern Millie went up with only minor challenges. The performances were incredible, the students had a great experience, and I was absurdly proud of all of them. We will, however, be scheduling next year's "fall" musical actually in the fall... This time of year there are too many illnesses going around, I had one of my Priscilla girls get pneumonia during tech week and we had to replace her, and another of my Priscilla girls got a nasty flu between the final dress on Saturday morning and the performance on Saturday night.

I know, right?

Guys and Dolls goes up this weekend, which is exciting. And even more exciting (in some ways) are the additions to our humble apartment. J., built us a beautiful headboard out of an old five panel door, and we bought our first big piece of "grown up" furniture, in our lovely new couch. We're finally able to upgrade from futon to full couch, which has been a blessing, and our apartment is finally beginning to look like a home, and not one lived in by poor college students. This is not to say that there's anything wrong with college student living, or post college student still poor living, but we were getting some serious apartment envy from my former roommates, including one Mrs. Bean.

I've had little opportunity to cook. We've been doing a lot of quick, easy, repetitive meals. That being said, I would go absolutely bonkers without the opportunity to at least occasionally set aside for a good meal, and the perfect timing came when J.'s parents came to Providence to visit.

They just so happened to give us a pasta machine for Christmas, and we thought their visit was the perfect opportunity to make homemade fettuccine with vodka sauce, which, if I do say so myself, was an excellent choice.

This is, quite possibly, the simplest, cheapest recipe for homemade noodles ever. We took it and adapted it not one bit from our favorite new cookbook, The New Best Recipe. While some homemade pasta recipes call for the nest of flour and beating the eggs in a little at time, this uses a food processor, making this recipe appropriate for even the most chaotic of evenings.

Fresh Egg Pasta
Makes about One Pound


2 cups (10 ounces) unbleached all-purpose flour
3 large eggs, beaten

1. Pulse the flour in a food processor fitted with a steel blade to distribute and aerate. Add the eggs, and process until the dough forms a rough ball, approximately 30 seconds. If the dough resembles small pebbles, add water half of a teaspoon at a time,  if the dough sticks to the sides of the work bowl, add flour a tablespoon at a time, and process until a rough ball is formed.

2. Turn the dough ball and small bits out onto a work surface. Knead the dough until smooth, one to two minutes. Cover with plastic wrap and let rest at least 15 minutes, or up until 2 hours. The dough can also be wrapped well in plastic wrap and kept refrigerated up to one day before rolling out.

3. Using a manual pasta machine, roll the dough.

4. Let dry for a bit. Cook until done, not more than a few minutes.

(Yes, I know that's a horrible direction "Cook until done" but it really varies, and seriously, cooks up fast. Check it at two minutes, use your own discretion.)

If you are making more than one batch, this can be time consuming. When we cooked for 18 people at Christmas, this process took the entire afternoon, but that was for five batches of pasta. For a one pound batch, I would set aside 30-45 minutes, depending on how practiced you are with the pasta machine.

Also, beware running out of space on your drying rack. Like we did. Quite a bit.

The cut pasta can also be laid out upon and separated by layers of paper towel. If you have some in the house. Which we didn't.

Oops.

Light(er) Vodka Cream Sauce
Serves 4

1 tablespoon olive oil
1/2 cup finely chopped onion
1 teaspoon salt, divided
1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper
1 garlic clove, minced
1/2 cup vodka

1/4 cup chicken broth
1 can crushed tomatoes
1/4 cup whipping cream
3 tablespoons thinly sliced fresh basil (or more to taste. Basil is my favorite, so I like it with quite a bit)

Heat oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add onion to pan; saute until tender. Add 1/4 teaspoon salt, pepper, and garlic; saute 1 minute. Add vodka; bring to a boil. Reduce heat, and simmer 3 minutes or until liquid is reduced by about half. Stir in 1/2 teaspoon salt, broth, and tomatoes; bring to a boil. Reduce heat, and simmer 8 minutes. Stir in cream. Cook 2 minutes over medium heat, stirring constantly. Remove from heat. Stir in cooked pasta and remaining 1/4 teaspoon salt. Serve garnished with freshly grated Parmesan cheese and sliced fresh basil.

Consume and think of me.