Adapted from the Dec., 2012 Bon Appétit

Many years ago, when I was around 3 or 4 years old, my parents decorated the eating area in our house with a hilarious poster of a smiling, middle-aged Asian guy holding a sandwich he’d presumably just taken a bite out of. Above his head were the words, “You don’t have to be Jewish,” and below it the phrase’s now famous kicker: “to love Levy’s real Jewish rye.” Even as a little guy I was fascinated by that image, and forty plus years later I still find the language from that poster working its way into my head at random moments. Case in point—while I was making the popovers presented here. Now obviously unlike the rye bread from that Levy’s poster, popovers have no particular ethnic association. Still, in their very English, Downton Abbey-ness, popovers do call to mind a certain Anglican attitude that’s the very antithesis of a good deli sandwich. And because the batter they’re made from is essentially the same as the one called for in Yorkshire pudding, and because that dish is for me a key component to any Christmas feast worthy of the title, it naturally made me flash back to that poster’s copy. Or rather, to the copy’s flipside: you don’t have to be Christian to love Christmas dinner.

And that’s the truth, because no matter what you may think about the religious or material associations linked to the holiday, to my way of thinking there is nothing bad that can be said about the big meal that comes along with it. Or at least, the big meal as I have come to know and love it, featuring some sort of cheese- and cream-laden potato dish, sautéed spinach (to balance things out), and a standing rib roast paired with a horseradish infused crème fraîche. In the company of these items, but most especially that roast beef, the buttery, eggy-ness of a crisp/tender Yorkshire pudding is pure decadent perfection—the sort of thing best justified by the phrase, “Hey, it’s the holidays!”

Which is exactly why this recipe from the December issue of Bon Appétit grabbed me by the collar and wouldn’t let go. Years ago, when I was first attempting to prepare a Christmas dinner on my own, I learned that Yorkshire pudding is traditionally made using the fat drippings produced by that aforementioned roast—a rich, buttery payoff that can prove a drag on meal preparation since the making of the popovers must follow that of the meat. Enter the popover, Yorkshire pudding’s duplicate in all things except form, since the brioche shaped pastry is baked in a muffin or popover tin and not a casserole dish. It’s a difference that can lighten the cook’s load immeasurably, as the popover’s smaller shape seems to respond just as well to melted butter as it does to rendered beef fat (key, since without the warm fat to greet the batter the pudding won’t inflate as desired—an important component to the dish), which means you don’t have to wait until that roast is out of the oven to get things going. What’s more, it makes for a tidy, individually sized package on everyone’s plate—something that both looks nice and streamlines the serving process.

Now you might guess from all this rhapsodizing that popovers are something I’ve made before, and you’d be right. But what prompted me to put aside the more than serviceable recipe I’ve used in the past and give this one a try was its addition of three surprise ingredients: freshly ground black pepper, freshly grated nutmeg, and freshly chopped flat-leaf parsley. In other words, along with the signature flavors of butter, eggs, and flour, the dish now has a little something extra—a subtle bite of heat thanks to the pepper and the nutmeg, and a quiet grassy note delivered by the parsley. As such it’s just the thing to round out the buttery richness of the confection in its most basic state.

And it couldn’t be easier to make. To start you whisk together your various dry ingredients (the flour, the salt, the pepper, and the nutmeg), along with the freshly chopped parsley, and in a separate bowl do the same with your wet items (the milk, the eggs, and 3 tablespoons of the butter, melted). Into the egg mixture you gradually add the flour/parsley combo, and once combined you’re good to go—proceeding either directly to the muffin tins, or chilling and refrigerating the mixture for up to a day. This last detail bears underscoring as it’s one more way this recipe serves the harried chef, since any opportunity to get things done ahead of mealtime can obviously lighten the load immeasurably. Either way, once you are ready to start baking, douse each cup with a 1/2 teaspoon of melted butter (made from the remaining 2 tablespoons of butter), then fill the muffin tin three-quarters of the way full with the batter. That said depending on the capacity of your tin (although the recipe calls for “standard muffin cups,” and even if you’re using one described as such, there seems to be some variation as to how much it holds) you may find yourself with excess batter. If so, call a second tin into service and be grateful you have extra!

All that remains at this point is to bake the popovers in a 425˚ oven for 30 to 35 minutes, or until the dough is golden brown, crisped around the edges, and puffed up like a miniature hot air balloon. (For the record, on each occasion I’ve made these I’ve needed that additional five minutes to achieve the correct level of doneness.) What’s more, although it’s not suggested by the recipe, midway through the baking process you may want to rotate the pan if it looks as though the popovers are not browning or puffing up evenly. If you decide this extra step is called for, however, be sure to move quckly as you don’t want to lower your oven’s temperature and risk deflating the pastry—the source of much of its goodness. Similarly, once the popovers are out of the oven you’ll want to get them to the table immediately, so make sure everything else is ready to serve by the time they’re done.

Of course, even a cold, slightly deflated popover can be irresistible—something I tend to experience each Christmas when faced with the dilemma of what to do with the 2 or 3 that remain uneaten (I’ve been known to succumb to temptation and pop one more in my mouth, even after multiple servings of dessert). Still, it’s not a question I anticipate having to resolve this year; with the “secret” ingredients in these popovers, I fully expect they will all be devoured. Seriously, they’re that good.

Ingredients:
—2 cups all-purpose flour
—2 tbs finely chopped flat-leaf parsley
—1 tbs kosher salt
—1 tsp freshly ground black pepper
—1 tsp freshly grated nutmeg
—3 large eggs
—2½ cups whole milk
—5 tbs melted unsalted butter, divided

Directions:
—Preheat oven to 425˚.
—In a medium bowl whisk the flour, parsley, salt, pepper and nutmeg. Set aside.
—In a large bowl whisk the eggs and the milk until well blended. Gently whisk in the flour mixture, followed by 3 tbs of the melted butter (don’t overmix).
—Melt the remaining 2 tbs butter; grease 12 standard muffin cups with ½ tsp melted butter each. (See TRG note #1, below).
—Pour batter into prepared muffin tins, filling cups three-quarters full and dividing equally.
—Bake popovers until puffed, golden brown, and crispy around edges, 30 to 35 minutes. (See TRG note #2, below.) Using a thin knife or an offset spatula, remove popovers from pan. Serve immediately.

BA Note #1: The batter can be made 1 day ahead, covered and chilled, and poured into the prepared muffin tin just prior to baking.

BA note #2: For an intensified flavor, substitute melted duck fat for the melted butter.

TRG note #1: Although the recipe calls for 12 standard-sized muffin cups (which should each hold 1/4 to 1/3 cup batter) you may find you’re left with excess batter once the requisite amount has been poured into the cups. If so, call a second muffin tin into service and use the remaining batter to make as many additional popovers as you’re able.

TRG note #2: If the popovers look to be baking unevenly, try rotating the pan mid-way through the cooking process.

Makes 12 popovers (or more, depending on the size of your pan)

The post 12/06/12 • POPOVERS WITH A PLUS appeared first on THE RECIPE GRINDER.

From the Nov., 2011 Saveur (click here to view the recipe)

Since sitting down to write this week’s posting I’ve been slammed with “urgent” emails relating to everything from a mysterious leak that’s appeared in my downstairs neighbors’ closet; a busted basin in my bathroom that’s rendered the sink unusable; a variety of issues relating to my upcoming office move (insurance certificates, the correct meter number for Con Ed, Internet provider options, etc.); outstanding payment for a story I filed way back in early September; and a number of other subjects too tedious to mention. In other words, I’m dealing with the sorts of things we all contend with on a daily basis . . . but that today are proving particularly difficult for me to shut out — something I must do, though, if I’m to get to that quiet place necessary from which to write a coherent sentence. It reminds me of this ad I used to see as a kid on TV in which a harried working mom, stressed out over her job, her baby, even the family dog (!), throws up her hands and exclaims in a desperate voice, “Calgon take me away!” (followed by a quick cut of said harried mom luxuriating in a bubble-bath).

Well, I haven’t been magically teleported to my bathtub, but just listing a few of this morning’s distractions does seem to have served a similar function — my mind is quieter, at least for the moment. Which means I can turn my focus to more important things . . . namely food, and specifically the subject of this week’s posting.

It’s one I’d categorize as a happy accident. Not because I came up with it myself while playing around in the kitchen (it comes from the November issue of Saveur and not my head), but because I decided to make it thinking it would be one thing and early in the process discovered it to be something else entirely — something even better than anticipated. You see, the thing I thought I was making, and that originally brought me to the kitchen with all the various ingredients, was based on the recipe’s captivating title: “Onion and Bacon Tart.” Through no fault of the magazine, these four words led me to believe that the end result would produce something flat and crusty — like a bacon and onion pizza, but without the cheese and tomato sauce. I like the cheese and tomato sauce in a pizza, but I’m also a big fan of caramelized onions and bacon, and the idea of giving these two complementary items a star turn atop a homemade crust sounded pretty appealing. I also thought it had the makings for a perfect weekend lunch, or an enticing pre-dinner snack (sliced into bite-sized pieces). I don’t know about you, but it doesn’t take much more than that to get me into the kitchen. . .

The thing I’d failed to register, though, was the fact that the recipe offers the revealing statement that the dish’s custard-like batter is “a cousin of Yorkshire pudding,” and that it “puffs like an enormous popover in the oven.” I’m not quite sure how I missed this statement since it’s the first sentence of the actual recipe, and because the words Yorkshire pudding are ones that typically grab my attention, but miss it I did. And in truth, such is my excitement when I come across a new recipe that it’s not so unusual for me to overlook a few key details until I actually get down to cooking. Which is to say that as I began assembling my various ingredients I discovered that what I was undertaking was not so much the perfect weekend lunch but rather the ideal accompaniment to the prime rib I’ll be making for Christmas dinner.

Now I’m a big believer in staying true to certain food traditions — I like a turkey on Thanksgiving and a roast beef on Christmas. But if there’s a way to gently tweak those traditions in an interesting way, I’m all for it. And here was just such a way. Rather than the Yorkshire pudding standard, which in my experience is at most enlivened by some dried thyme or rosemary, here was one that went whole hog . . . with a scattering of slivered bacon and caramelized onions. What’s more, the recipe offered an alternative to the standard cooking approach, which calls for using the meat drippings from your finished roast as a base for the pudding — a rewarding but time consuming step when you’re trying to juggle multiple dishes and coordinate getting everything on the table before anything goes cold. Instead, the Saveur recipe calls for taking the fat rendered from the cooked bacon and using that as the base for the pudding. It’s a strategy that’s as decadent as it is simple, allowing you to cook the pudding independently of the roast, thereby excising at least one bit of stress from your holiday season.

Of course, you can always make a Yorkshire pudding with melted butter instead of meat drippings, and even without the various enhancements listed above it will be pretty wonderful (particularly in the company of a few slices of roast beef and a dollop of horse radish-enhanced crème fraiche). But trust me when I say that the addition of the onion and bacon here takes the pudding into new and exciting territory. For one thing, these enhancements give it some extra heft, creating a more substantial side dish than the airy, buttery Yorkshire we know and love. What’s more, the caramelized onion acts as a foil for the richness of the bacon and the rendered fat, which for its part deepens the overall flavor of the dish and imbues it with a subtle, smoky quality. And for those of you questioning whether it might all be a little too much — pork and beef . . . on one plate, I say simply: it’s the holidays! (But yes, you can always have the tart on it’s own, served with a side of greens as I did in the images here; an infinitely more sensible option to be sure, and almost as satisfying as the holiday meal I’m conjuring).

And did I mention that it’s easy, too? A simple batter of flour, mustard powder, pepper, milk, and eggs is whisked together, allowed to rest for a few minutes, then poured into a baking dish that already holds the rendered bacon fat (and which has been heated in a 425 degree oven for ten minutes). The crisped bacon and caramelized onion are then sprinkled across the batter, at which point the baking dish is returned to the oven for 30 minutes of cooking. This is when the real fun starts, as there are few things more gratifying than watching as something you’ve prepared turns all golden brown and bubbly before your eyes. Imagine a popover, but in one large baking dish. Now imagine biting into it. . . buttery, a little chewy, with just a hint of smoke and sweet. Yes, it’s just that good. Wonderful things can happen when eggs, flour and milk are introduced to a little liquid fat!

One final time saving suggestion: instead of the slab bacon called for in the recipe, look for the thick cut variety sold at many markets. This will trim your prep time in half, since the bacon must ultimately be sliced into matchstick slivers before cooking.

Ingredients:
—6 oz. slab (or thick cut) bacon, cut into ¼” matchsticks
—4 tbsp unsalted butter
—2 medium yellow onions, thinly sliced lengthwise
—Kosher salt
—Freshly ground black pepper
—1½ cups flour
—2 tsp dry mustard
—1¼ cups milk
—3 eggs lightly beaten

Special equipment:
—One 9″ x 11″ baking dish

Directions:
—Heat bacon in a 12” skillet over medium-high heat, and cook, stirring occasionally, until fat renders and bacon is crisp, about 12 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer bacon to paper towels to drain; pour bacon fat into a 9” x 11” baking dish and set aside.
—Return skillet to medium-high heat, and add butter; add onions, salt, and pepper, and cook, stirring, until lightly caramelized, about 10 minutes. Remove from heat and set aside.
—Heat oven to 425 degrees. In a large bowl whisk together flour, mustard, and pepper; add milk and eggs, and stir until smooth. Let batter rest for ten minutes.
—While batter rests, place baking dish with bacon fat in oven and let heat for 10 minutes. Remove baking dish from oven, pour in batter, and sprinkle with rendered bacon and caramelized onions; return to oven until puffed and golden brown, about 30 minutes.
—Cut into squares and eat immediately.

The post 12/08/11 • BACON ONION BONANZA appeared first on THE RECIPE GRINDER.